Snatchers (A Zombie Novel) (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Jack Slade and his new friend, Robbie, jogged their way through the hallways of the hotel. Jack felt uncomfortable doing this, as he didn't know what was lurking around the corner. Robbie assured him that the hotel was secure, and there had been no reports of people feeling unwell during the night, and the chances of the things being in the hotel were nil, which was a blatant lie. Robbie felt he needed to protect Jack from this information from a selfish point of view. He needed to get home, and Jack provided the wheels. He didn't want to freak him out
so
much that the guest would lock himself back up in his hotel room, remain there and hope for the best.

Robbie was officially coming to the end of his twelve-hour night shift and Jack thought that once his adrenaline wore off, his heavy colleague would be exhausted. They got to the staircase and jogged down flight after flight. It seemed to have taken ages to get to the bottom of the stairs. Robbie pulled out a set of keys. He unlocked the door that led to the reception area. It was lifeless, and Jack didn't remember it too much.

"Wait a minute," Jack spoke up.

He went over to the drinks vending machine and kicked in the glass, he pulled out a couple of bottles of water and threw one to Robbie. Both men drank the bottles dry, threw the empty bottles to the floor before proceeding to the exit doors. They stepped out onto the barren streets of Glasgow City Centre, and Jack urged the security guard to follow him.

Jack pulled out his cleaver and Robbie did the same with the carving knife, both men were clearly shaking. They jogged past the building of Central Station and saw three cars that had been driven into one another. The cars were abandoned and the opened driver's side of the doors suggested that the drivers had fled on foot.

Was it due to panic? Or were they being chased?

They both turned left onto Argyle Street and headed under the bridge, heading for Jamaica Street. They both stopped running and turned their progression into a brisk walk. Jack by no means was a fit individual, and Robbie was glad of the change in pace.

"Hold up!" Robbie's voice echoed under the massive steel bridge where above, trains would normally move across. His voice echoed, piercing the quiet morning.

They continued to walk under the bridge passing numerous shops on their travels to Jamaica Street. Two figures appeared from around the corner about twenty yards away from the two men. They were definitely not living anymore. These two figures literally looked like death.

Both characters looked like they used to be young men. One was dressed in a white bloodstained tracksuit, which told the two men that this thing had already attacked some poor soul. The other individual was dressed in a suit.

As humans, the two of them couldn't be so different, but now they had changed, they were now both the same and had the same goal in mind. They stumbled toward the men; the one in the tracksuit leading the way, with the suited individual being three yards behind.

"Cross the road," Jack instructed. He could feel the agitation flowing through his body.

Robbie shook his head. "Nah, we can take 'em."

"Just cross the fuckin' road! I thought you wanted to avoid them!"

Robbie wobbled his head in defiance. "They'll just follow us. Besides, if we do this now, it'll desensitise us for the next time. There'll be a time when we can't run away from these things."

The suited figure fell over its own feet and was struggling to get up.

"Stand back," Robbie commanded.

To the two men's surprise, the tracksuit individual sped up with a decent pace. Robbie jumped back and brought up his carving knife, ready. Now, he was almost face-to-face with the thing. He could see the pale skin, like polished ivory, and the blackness around the lifeless black doll eyes that were wider than golf balls, and the coal coloured lips. It was a hideous sight to witness.

Although initially he hesitated, he pulled his knife back once more and rammed it through the left eye socket of the being. Black tar-like liquid dribbled out, as his weapon mashed up the eyeball, but the creature was still trying to progress forward, its arms now grabbing onto Robbie's shoulders.

A surge of panic shot through the man, and he used the last of his strength to force the knife deeper into the eye socket. It worked. The thing twitched like an epileptic, as he pulled the knife out. The black liquid ran off the knife onto the floor; it fell to its knees and fell face down with a deathly thump.

The other corpse was still struggling to get to his feet, and once it managed to get on all fours, Jack stepped forward and brought down the cleaver. These were tools that belonged to a professional kitchen, so he predicted they would be sharper than the average household instrument, and he wasn't wrong.

The cleaver embedded four inches into the skull quite easily, however, trying to retrieve the instrument seemed a little more difficult. Jack struggled a while before the weapon came free, he received splash back from the skull, and was sprayed by the black gunk that spat on his face. It was just a sprinkle, but it was enough to make him stand in fright.

Jack screwed his eyes in confusion. Robbie patted him on the back and pulled out a hankie. "Don't worry, I don't think you can get the virus by their blood hitting your skin, or whatever it's supposed to be. If you get it in your eye or an opened wound, however…" He glared at the gentle black spray that Jack was wiping off his face with the hankie. Robbie nudged Jack and pointed at the suited being corpse. "No wonder he fell over, look at the state of his ankle."

Jack threw the hankie to the floor and took a look. The ankle was twisted so badly, that it had turned ninety degrees to the right, facing inwards.

Said Jack, "He probably did it when he was in human form, running away from those things."

Robbie agreed. "Maybe it was the twisted ankle that cost him his life. Hard to run from these things when you're in that state."

Jack shook his head. "I couldn't believe how quick the other one sped up, when he was heading for you." Jack was still panting and said to Robbie, "I'm either gonna have to get a decent hiding place soon, or get drastically fit. 'Cos these fuckers are not as docile as they look. Like an alligator, they seem lifeless, until they attack you. I'm knackered already, that was hard work killing just
one
of them."

Robbie looked up. "I'm trying to think if there's a gun shop in Glasgow."

"A sword would be better. It's quiet, and you don't have to re-load a sword." Jack shook his head. "Let's just go, the car park is just around the corner by the St Enoch Centre."

Robbie nudged Jack and pointed to the floor. Jack could see his mobile phone smashed in two pieces and he mumbled an expletive under his breath. He picked the thing up but immediately dropped it back onto the floor once he knew it was defunct.

The two men both bent over and wiped their utensils on the clothes of the deceased. They continued to walk under the bridge on Argyle Street, and finally came to Jamaica Street that was situated to their right. To their left was Union Street, and they both noticed seven figures shuffling about further up near the Burger King restaurant. They looked down to the rest of Argyle Street, which seemed devoid of life, human
and
the others. They strolled down Jamaica Street, getting near the River Clyde; the car park was to their left which was situated around the back of the Matalan clothes store. They ran around the back and went inside the multi-storey car park and began to jog up the ascending road that curled round like a helter skelter.

"What floor is it?" Robbie asked with what little breath he had left, his voice echoing through the concrete sheltered car park. His belly swung to the left and right like a pendulum, as his feet slapped the concrete with each step.

"Second," Jack shouted back, he was ten yards in front of his new friend.

"Thank fuck!"

Robbie stopped and placed his hand on his knees, he was exhausted. His panting was ruthless, and there didn't seem to be any sign of his body recovering.

He thought to himself that maybe he should just wait for Jack to come down with his car, as it seemed frivolous that the pair of them needed to run up to the second floor, but Jack was already way ahead of him and had disappeared. For a brief panicky second, Robbie thought that maybe Jack would go without him. In a situation like this, it was pretty much every man for himself. Still looking up the steep road, Robbie began to cough. He then yawned and began to stretch out his arms.

He suddenly felt a hand on his thigh, which made him shoot up straightening his back. He turned around to see three varmints almost ambush him. They looked like they were teenage girls, and seemed dressed in attire to suggest that they had been clubbing, but they were now not of human form.

Where the fuck did they come from?

Robbie lashed out manically with his knife, catching two of them in the face, although the wounds were only superficial. He kicked one of them that was wearing a mini skirt and it fell over. The one nearest, felt Robbie's wrath, as he brought down his carving knife that embedded deeply into the top of the cranium of a blonde girl.

Fuck, they're strong!

The scantily dressed thing immediately fell, and he felt the bite of the other that had its hands on both of his shoulders and had bitten through his uniform and into his deltoid. He let out an angry shriek and pushed the girl over easily, thanks to the fact they were on an uphill and Robbie was higher than the rest on the incline. They both clambered back to their feet, and Robbie somehow managed the energy to run up to the remaining rest of the road. A Vauxhall Meriva pulled up beside Robbie, and Jack ordered him to get in and Robbie duly obliged.

"What happened to you?" Jack screamed.

"Fucker bit me."

"There are more of them? Maybe I should go out the proper exit, rather than down this road again."

"Nah. " Robbie shook his head. "The proper exit has safety barriers, you would have to ram them to get by."

"But I'm gonna have to ram those things to get past the other way."

Robbie looked at Jack with demonic eyes. "Are we
really
having this conversation? Just fucking move. Let's get to your house first, so I can get myself bandaged up. I don't want the missus and the kids to see me like this. I hope you've got alcohol back at your house; this wound may be infected with all kinds of shit."

Jack hit the gas pedal and headed back down the way they had ran up and sped at twenty around the curly road. He almost stopped when he saw the two figures, as his instincts told him to come off the gas and hit the brake. He hit the gas pedal harder and saw the two female things bounce off the car and roll along the ground like thrown dice.

"Well, that was fun." Robbie winced, and held onto his bleeding shoulder.

Jack shook his head. "This is such a fucking weird day. This is possibly weirder than the time I was sleepwalking as a teenager, and my dad woke me up and found me in my sister's room as I was about to piss in her ear."

Robbie, still clutching his wound, gazed at Jack in disbelief. "Thanks for sharing that."

"Sorry."

Chapter Fifteen

They both travelled with their windows down; the cool air was a welcomed feeling as the sweat trickled down the officers' backs. Once they got to a residential area, Jamie informed Janine that the windows would have to go up and they would have to make do with the air conditioning the van had to offer.

Janine looked around at the countryside they were driving in, and had gone by this way every day mostly, and never had time to appreciate how beautiful the area was. It was also a great area for a prison. If they had had escapes, there weren't many hiding places for the cons to use. The nearest residence was a mile away, and finding the escapees would be no problem as there was no building to hide in, no crowd to be lost in, or any vehicle to break into to enhance their escape.

They had only been travelling for three minutes and Janine had an announcement to make to Jamie before they went any further.

"You're gonna have to stop. I need the toilet."

"Seriously?" Jamie frowned at his partner, the corner of his lips dropping toward his chin.

Janine descended her head, and made a nodding gesture.

Jamie looked around; they were still in the countryside, everywhere was flat and the sign of trouble was non-existent. Even though it was early days, if they did need to stop, it may as well be now. "I suppose I'll go as well, seem as though it's clear."

Janine was still a little paranoid that Jamie could drive off and leave her, but her trust of him had grown a little, and she could hardly sit and piss herself.

He stopped the van and allowed Janine to jump out first. The engine was still running, and while he was waiting to kill some time, he tried the radio stations once more. By the time he had exhausted every station on the waves, Janine had returned.

"Right," Jamie opened the driver's side of the door, "my turn."

Janine took a swig of water from Jamie's bag and wondered how her family were. She unbuttoned her top button and took off her blue clip on tie. She had noticed Jamie had already done this. It was too incandescent for the attire that they were wearing, and it didn't matter now, the world had now become a different place, they had no governor to answer to and had no job either.

Jamie noticed that Janine had literally emptied her bladder behind the vehicle as the golden puddle sat there a yard away from the back of the van. He wondered why she chose that particular area. Didn't she trust him? Was she paranoid that he would watch her using the exterior mirrors?

He didn't want to dwell on it too much, as they hardly knew one another and only engaged in conversation on a professional basis when they were at work. He chose to use the side of the road and peed on the grass; it was a short affair as he didn't need to go that badly, but he thought he may as well try while they had stopped because he wasn't sure when would be the next available time to go. He returned to the van and fired the ignition.

The van began to move again, and as they approached a tight bend that veered to the right, the pair of them took in the scenery and appreciated it. They both looked at a farm that was to their left in the distance and both peeped at one another. Were they thinking the same thing?

Go to the farm and beg the owners to put them up for a few nights while all this blows over? The thought had caressed Janine's mind, but Jamie himself suspected that they were onto a winner driving a secured van with food and water. Janine would have rather had saved the fuel and just sat in the prison car park with the van locked and munched on the food they had, but Jamie was convinced there would be more food and fuel just waiting to be taken before thinking about some kind of refuge.

The van took a left and as it appeared on the new road, and they could see four figures in the distance walking with their backs to them. They both knew they were prisoners immediately, as all four were wearing the same clothes. They all donned blue trousers and red T-shirts.

"What do you reckon?" Jamie questioned Janine.

"Seriously?"

Jamie nodded.

Janine sighed unhappily, "If we pick them up, we pick nobody else up."

"I agree with that; we're definitely better in numbers. I'm just gonna slow down, see who they are."

"You don't think they'll attack us and take the van for themselves?"

"Nah, not these fellas." Jamie pointed at the four figures who were now facing them and frantically waving. "That's Pickle. He's a notorious drug dealer, but as honest as they come. If it was a serial killer like James Smithers, then I'd just drive on. We're better in numbers; don't worry about the food, we'll find more eventually."

As the van gained alongside the diminutive group, the four men held out their hands, desperate for the vehicle to pull over. The van pulled up adjacent to the cons, and Pickle was the first to approach Jamie's side of the door.

"Wanna ride?" Jamie smiled.

"Absolutely," Pickle cried, and all four inmates wore a relieved and excited grin. "I owe yer one, Jamie boy."

"Forget it, we're all in the same boat. As far as I'm concerned, considering what's happening out there, any fracas we've had in the past is forgotten about now." All four prisoners nodded in agreement. "We're all equal; to get through this we're better off sticking together."

Jamie switched the engine off, and got out of the van, Jamie and Pickle shook hands. Jamie knew that being in numbers would be more beneficial for his own safety. He knew Pickle; he didn't really know the other inmates, but knew Pickle would keep them in line.

Pickle had short brown hair, was a violent drug dealer, and slurred his words occasionally, but he and Jamie had always had a decent relationship on the wing. He knew that if Pickle was on his side, the other three wouldn't dare speak up or attempt anything untoward Janine and himself. Why would they? Not only had he released them from their cells, he was now giving them a ride!

"Let me introduce yer to these three fine gentleman," Pickle spoke; Jamie already knew one of the inmates but decided against on interrupting Pickle. "This is KP, he looks like a dick, but he's okay."

"I already know KP," Jamie spoke, nodding toward the inmate.

Jamie was unsure about KP; he was another violent thug, but his violence wasn't related to drugs. He was a repeat violent offender, who spent most of his time in and out of jail.

"Of course yer do." Pickle beamed. "What about the other two?"

Jamie frowned, his face suggesting he was struggling for names. "I think those two only came in a few weeks ago, plus they're both from E wing."

"This is Laz." Pickle pointed to a weedy looking prisoner who looked middle-aged. "And this fine looking kid is called Grass."

Jamie waved at Grass, whose real name was Conor Snodgrass. Now Jamie remembered him!

Conor Snodgrass was only twenty years old and was in for rape, but he had told prisoners he was in for GBH. Jamie knew that if Pickle knew the background of Snodgrass, he would kill him there and then. He didn't feel comfortable having a rapist on board, especially with Janine in tow, but he knew that if he opened his mouth, the young boy would be kicked to death for sure by all three prisoners.

On a wing, rapists and child molesters were usually protected by officers to stop them being attacked by other inmates. Some prisons across the country would have separate wings for these types of criminals, but in Stafford prison, they had them on E wing where ten sex offenders lived, and these were protected by opening them up at different meal times, escorting them to the toilet, etc. Jamie hated them, not just because of the crime that they had committed, but the fact that he had to behave like a personal babysitter for them, but he wouldn't want young Grass to be killed, no matter what crime he did in the past.

"No offence," Jamie indicated to Pickle. "But we need to throw you guys in the back."

"That's perfectly fine with us, ain't that right lads?"

All three of them agreed, with no reluctance on their faces.

"You got any food in the back?" KP called. "I could eat the scabs off a donkey's ring piece."

Jamie and Janine took a gander at one another.

"Don't worry!" Pickle exclaimed, almost as if he could read the two officers' intellects. "We won't eat all yer food, besides, once we make a stop off at ma house, we can get all the food we want and store them in the back o' the van."

"Got a place in mind?" Janine asked.

"Just name yer supermarket. Besides, I think there's a garage up the road, apart from petrol, there should be plenty o' food there as well."

"Sounds like a plan," Jamie responded excitedly. "We can get plenty of jerry cans from the garage and fill them up, but if the electrics go down in the gas stations, we're fucked, 'cos you need to use a switch to activate the pumps. What's at this house?"

"Guns," Pickle declared bluntly. "And there's plenty. So we need to head for Rugeley; there's a place that I think will be perfect. But firstly, I need to make a little stop on the way there. Agreed?"

Jamie smiled, the day was beginning to get better and stopping for Pickle had become a commendable idea.

Jamie spoke with zealous, "Right, Janine, let's get these guys in the back. We've got a garage to go to. By the way, lads, we'll keep those cells open, you're not prisoners now as far as I'm concerned."

Jamie pulled out the specially designed cell key for the seven tiny cells of the van and put it into the glove compartment.

Janine let them in the back one by one; the cells were already opened and each inmate picked one for themselves. Janine gave them all polite smiles.

First to get in was young Grass; he gave her a shy look and she felt sorry for the young boy, he looked scared out of his wits. The next to go in was Laz; he looked about fifty and was very skinny, his head of hair was completely grey. KP was next to go in; she had heard of him being a tough nut, and despite donning a beard, which was something she didn't find appealing herself, he was an attractive man. He blew her a kiss as he got inside; she responded with a shy smile. It had been a while since she had been with male company.

Last to go in was Pickle. "Don't yer worry, kid." He pointed at Janine. "I'll keep these wee monkeys under control, okay?" He winked and got straight into one of the tiny cells.

"The toilets are at the back," she announced, forgetting that these men had been in before.

Pickle gave her the thumbs up. He was six foot in height, and his muscular frame was almost as fierce as his reputation, but the forty-three-year-old seemed to be a genuine guy—although shouldn't be crossed.

Janine was a little put out that the guys had turned up; she thought that her and Jamie were getting on great in the short space of time they were out together. Although she did see the benefits of them being around, as she felt safer in numbers especially now that one of them was going to give them guns, she was hoping that it wasn't going to turn into one big boys club. She had only just shut the door to the back of the van, and she was already feeling a little left out.