Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield (4 page)

Chapter Seven

The black boots traipsed through the heavy bracken and another two pairs were following behind. The large figure then suddenly stopped, took a look around, and pointed west. "This way," he growled.

The two men that were behind him stared at one another briefly, shrugged their shoulders, then continued to walk in the same direction as him. The walk had been a quiet affair, and the trip through the woods had been ongoing for an hour, and they were almost out of water.

The big man scrunched his eyes and could see that the woods were now thinning and that they were coming to the end of this wooded section. Once all three stepped out and onto a dirt path, the huge chap stopped walking and turned to his two companions. "Get something to eat. We rest for ten minutes before we tackle that." He pointed up the big hill.

"What's up there?" Johnny 'Willie' Wilson was the first to speak.

"Food and water, hopefully," said the man that they called
The Bear,
or simply just
Bear
.

"I'm not familiar with this place." Frederick scratched at his short blonde hair.

The Bear growled, "I came here once when I was a kid. Up there's Cardboard Hill, and over that hill is an estate."

"Good." Willie stroked his ginger ponytail. "I don't care about food, I just want a drink."

The Bear went through his bag and pulled out a tin of tuna and a packet of digestive biscuits. He opened the tin with his blade, ate the tuna, then began to devour the biscuits.

Frederick and Willie were also munching away, and Frederick, with a mouth full of pretzels, turned to Bear and asked, "What do you wanna achieve, you know, in the long-term?"

Bear never showed an expression on his face, pulled out his kukri from the leather holster it was in, and began to sharpen it on the rock by his feet. "What do
you
think?"

Frederick looked at Willie and began to tremble. After the weeks they had spent together, they still didn't know this man well at all. He was from their prison, but was from a different wing. It was only by chance that they came together when they bumped into one another in Stafford.

Leaving Stafford and going to small villages and towns was an idea that Bear had come up with. If they wanted food they needed to go into a town or village, but Bear wanted them to stay away from the cities. The Bear had come to the conclusion that the city probably had thousands upon thousands of Roamers—a name that Willie gave the dead.

The Bear stood up straight and threw his bag over his shoulders, kukri in his right hand and glared at Frederick. "I'm waiting for an answer."

Thirty-one-year-old Paul Frederick shrugged his shoulders and said with a shiver, "To survive, I suppose." He looked at Willie for back-up, but he had his head down. On a couple of occasions Bear had given them a slap. And despite both Willie and Frederick being jailbirds and were in for heinous crimes, The Bear was at a different level to these two.

Paul Frederick was inside for rape. He had been sentenced to eleven years for three transgressions, and was found guilty two years ago for the attacks on three women over a six month period. He was a protected prisoner in jail, but outside it didn't seem to bother The Bear or Willie what this man used to do.

Johnny Wilson, or Willie, had been sentenced to six years for manslaughter eight months ago. In the old world, before he was sentenced, the twenty-seven-year-old was a normal guy that had a son and a girlfriend, but that had all changed on one Friday night.

He was out with his mates and an argument broke out between himself and a bouncer. Willie struck out at the bouncer and was just as surprised as anyone that the man fell to the floor. Willie wasn't considered a hard man, so it seemed satisfying that he had managed to put the bullying bouncer on his arse. Unfortunately, the bouncer had struck his head on the floor once he had hit the deck and never got back up.

The Bear, or Theodore Davidson, was forty three years old. His nickname came from his size as well as his name. In his schooldays Theodore was shortened to Teddy, and then was nicknamed Teddy Bear. His nickname progressed simply to The Bear or Bear once he began bodybuilding in his twenties and the name had stuck ever since.

Years ago he was just a regular guy, but always had a vicious temper. He worked at a car factory in Biddulph, but was sacked for throwing the foreman across the canteen after a row over overtime. After a week's discussion with bosses, it was decided that Theodore Davidson was to be sacked for his gross misconduct. Another week later, Theodore walked into his old job, went into the personnel department and entered a boardroom where his seven bosses were in a meeting and were discussing with their American partners on speaker phone. Theodore began attacking his bosses and killed three of them with his bare hands, the other four had managed to escape.

The whole ordeal was heard from the other side of the Atlantic.

When he was sentenced, he had spent four weeks in solitary in three months for his violent outbursts, and even the hardcore drug dealers and murderers stayed away from him. The only gang that had the balls to try and put The Bear in his 'place' was Jason Bonser's gang. Jason Bonser, Kyle Horan and two others went into his cell, before lock-up, armed with smuggled-in screwdrivers. The result was that Bonser received a broken nose, Horan was hospitalised with broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, and the other two inmates were knocked unconscious, both receiving serious head injuries.

As usual, Bear led the way up the back-breaking hill, and as soon as they reached the top, he stood still and stared at a cluster of trees.

"Anything wrong, Bear?" asked Willie, who had now pulled out a cigarette and lit the thing up.

He shook his head. "What time do you think it is?"

"Hard to tell," Frederick chipped in. He looked up to the cloudy sky and added, "It's so dull it could be any time. I'm guessing it's late afternoon."

Willie noticed that their huge companion was glaring at the cluster of trees and couldn't keep his mouth shut. "What're you looking at?"

Bear pointed at the trees and announced, "They never used to be there. But behind those trees should be a cabin. We can stay there the night, then start again the next morning."

"And if there're people already staying there?" queried Willie.

Bear smiled, it was a rare smile, and slowly twisted his neck so that he was gazing at Johnny Wilson. "Do you really need to ask?" he said in a deep voice.

"Guess not."

Bear walked along Cardboard Hill and, with his companions to the side of him, he went through the small woodland. He came to a six foot fence and a gate that was wide open. Frederick and Willie pulled out their baseball bats, but Bear was more relaxed and left his kukri in its holster.

He was convinced that the place had been abandoned, and the door to the cabin that was left ajar had confirmed that he was correct with his assumption.

They took a look around the garden area. There was a tree stump that had axe marks as if that was the place where wood-chopping took place, and to their left was a dilapidated shed that looked ready to collapse any day.

"What a shit hole," Willie cackled.

Bear nodded in agreement. "It is. But it's gonna be our digs for the night, maybe longer."

"It's only the afternoon," said Frederick.

"True." Bear nodded. "But it won't harm us to rest until tomorrow."

Chapter Eight

"He hasn't said a word for ages."

Pickle was talking about Rick Morgan, who was standing on the other side of the HGV, leaning against the back tyres. Karen had just arrived and brought the men a bottle of water each.

"Maybe he wants some
me
time." Karen added, "Anyway, you hardly know one another. You need to make the effort as well, Branston."

Pickle never responded, instead he cleared his throat and spat to the side of him.

"Charming," Karen giggled.

"What?" Pickle feigned anger and teased Karen. "How many times have you emptied your nose over the last five weeks or so?"

Not responding to his banter Karen suddenly lowered her eyebrows, almost knitting them together. She looked around and appeared perplexed.

"What's up?" Pickle noticed her puzzlement.

"Where's Vince?"

"He's gone to the bathroom." Pickle began to laugh.

"What?"

"Well, his actual words were:
I'm off to curl one out
."

"Charming." Karen looked up to the heavens. "What a weird day."

"Depressing, I know." Pickle peered to the skies. It was July, but the day looked like an autumn evening.

"I need to get back up." Pickle pointed up to the cab. "Thanks for the water. I'll put them inside the truck.

Karen smiled, but Pickle could see pain behind it.

He knew what was wrong with her, but asked anyway. "Shaz?"

She nodded. "It's still raw."

*

"Hurry up, Vince." Rosemary panted. "My knees are killing me."

"Nearly there," he announced, and speeded up his rhythm as he was getting near climax. Rosemary was bent over the bed, kneeling on the carpet, and was urging her casual partner to get a move on. She could tell by his moaning and frenetic thrusting that he was seconds away from finishing.

"Rock and roll!" yelled Vince as he began to slow down, suggesting that the best part of sex for him had been completed.

Rosemary quickly got dressed and gazed at him with a look that suggested she was in a bad mood. "Seriously? Rock and roll?"

"I just say what comes to my head. You'd be amazed what we say when we're in the heat of the moment." Vince also began to get dressed and added, "And besides, you wanna hear yourself sometimes.
Oh, Vince. Squeeze my boobs, pull my hair, tweak my nips, smack my arse
. I'm not a fucking octopus, you know."

"I'm not
that
bad." Rosemary looked hurt that Vince was teasing her.

Typical man! He was the charmer before he had emptied his balls! Now he is back to his old self.

"You can be a cruel sod sometimes." Rosemary began sniffing, her index finger scratching the inside of her nostril.

"I better go." He began to put his socks and shoes on. "I told them that I was going for a number two."

Rosemary said, "You've been away for nearly twenty minutes."

"I know. Better tell them that I was constipated. I did generally need the toilet, but as soon as I came here and saw you in those manky leggings, that haven't been washed in days, and that toothpaste-stained T-shirt, I knew I had to have you."

Ignoring his sarcastic comment Rosemary clapped her hands together and huffed, "Right. I've got young Kyle and Lisa coming round in half an hour. I need to nip to the toilet and drain myself. You better get back to your watch."

"Cant wait." Vince sighed, "Just me, Pickle and Father Stone." He leaned over and kissed Rosemary on the cheek. "Ciao, sugar muffin."

Rosemary smiled as he left. A kiss on the cheek? She wasn't expecting that. Maybe the apocalypse was softening Vincent Kindl. A bit of a sod one minute, a bit of affection a minute later. What was happening to him?

Vince had now left 24 Sandy Lane, and was now heading back to the barrier for a couple of more hours. He could see Karen talking to Pickle and held out his arms and produced a big smile. "Calm down, Karen. The talent has arrived."

He leaned over to kiss her on her neck, but she squealed, "Get off me, you weirdo." She pushed him away, making Pickle giggle. Karen inspected Vince and was curious why he was in such a good mood. "Either that was some great shit you had, or Rosemary has been sorting you out."

Vince shook his head. "I'd never do that while I should be on barrier duty. It's unprofessional."

"Really?"

"Of course." Vince smiled. "Anyway, I'm saving myself for you." He looked over to Pickle and produced a wink and added, "Why don't me and you pop into that cab and I'll let you jump onto the old pogo stick?"

"No thanks." She began to giggle, almost annoyed that he had managed to make her laugh.

"Go on.
My
treat."

"I'd rather shag Rick Morgan, thank you."

Pickle winced when she said this, and whispered, "Keep it down."

"Oh well," Vince bent down to tie his bootlace. "Your loss."

"I'll see you all later." Karen was about to walk away and heard Vince say to Pickle that Karen was the hottest thing on the Sandy Lane camp.

"Thanks." Karen was less-than-impressed.

"Just trying to be charming," laughed Vince, who was in an obvious good mood. "You know what they say, Karen: If at first you don't succeed..."

"Don't take up skydiving," Karen cackled and strolled away from the two men.

She then heard Vince say, from behind her, "I'll nail you one day, Bradley."

Karen sighed with exasperation, looked at her hands, and muttered softly to herself, "Sometimes, for certain people, you just don't have enough middle fingers."