Snatchers (Book 8): The Dead Don't Pray (11 page)

Chapter Twenty Two

"How far to go now?" Pickle asked Rick.

"Not far," was Rick's vague answer, and he continued to stare out of the passenger window, thinking about Celia. Bentley pointed up ahead and mentioned that the Powerhouse shop that had been spoken about before was a matter of yards away. All agreed to stop off before heading back.

The truck pulled up in the empty street and they could see other businesses in this area, but nothing that could be of use to them or the camp. There were six in all, and the Powerhouse store was at the end. The other five businesses was a guitar shop, a jewellery store, a place that sold suits, a bakers and a bank.

All three stepped out of the vehicle and looked around them. Where were the people? The dead? Lee told them that Lichfield was mobbed with the dead a few weeks ago, so where were they now?

Pickle approached the entrance of the place and stood next to the glass door. He peered in and could see no one inside, but there was evidence that some kind of attack had taken place.

All three now had their faces pressed up against the glass of the shop. Pickle was by the door, against the glass and peering in, and the other two were pressed up against the shop window. No bodies could be seen, but blood had been spilt on the floor, and smears were evident on some of the tubs of whey that still sat on the wooden shelves.

"Well, inside looks clear," Rick announced.

"Aye," Pickle laughed and turned to the side to spit on the floor. He then pointed at the end of the room; a door was wide open. "But that back door is wide open, and we don't know what's in there."

"Think we need the shotguns from the back of the pickup?"

Pickle shook his head. "Nah."

Bentley took one more look around the street and huffed, "We've been hanging around here for long enough."

Bentley tried the door and was surprised when it opened. He was even more surprised, and horrified, when a bell rang out. He looked up and could see the hanging door bell, then quickly took a gape at the opened door at the end. He took a step inside, and widened the shop door with his hand to allow Pickle and Rick to walk in with ease. He released the door, and winced once the small bell tinkled once more.

They looked at the shelves. Rick didn't know what most of the stuff was, but Pickle and Bentley did. There was countless 2kg tubs of whey in different flavours: banana, vanilla and chocolate. There was also a wide selection of vitamins, amino acid pills, glutamine and MRPS.

Bentley nodded towards the pack of carrier bags by the cash register, and said, "Let's fill our boots."

"Wait." Pickle held his hand up and pointed at the opened door at the end of the shop. "Better check that out first."

Pickle led the way and peered inside the large dark room that looked like a storeroom. There didn't seem to be much produce in the storeroom, and it appeared, from what light was available, that most of the stuff was in the shop area.

"Just close the door." Bentley stood close behind Pickle and looked over his shoulder. "No point going in if most of the stock is in the actual shop."

Pickle smiled. "I suppose."

A rotten hand came out from behind the door and Pickle jumped in fright. Bentley never hesitated and pulled Pickle back into the shop to protect him. Both men stepped backwards, further into the shop, whilst Rick stood in shock, next to the protein bar section, yards from what was happening.

Bentley front-kicked the beast in the midriff, and watched as it went flying back into the dark storeroom. Another beast appeared from the darkness, making Bentley and Pickle gasp in surprise, and it stumbled into the shop before Bentley had a chance to shut the door. This one was in a gross condition. From what they could make of the attire that they were both wearing, the two males seemed to be, or used to be, workers for Powerhouse. Now they were just dead.

The creature that stumbled into the shop was severely mutilated. The left side of its neck had been bitten into so brutally that its head flopped to one side. It stumbled over to Bentley whilst he went for his blade, but because of the limited time he had, Bentley knew he could be grabbed, so he palmed the creature under its chin. He had done this before, on a person. When he did this to a cheeky upstart in the prison, the inmate bit his tongue, fell to the floor and was unconscious with a broken jaw. On this occasion, after palming the creature, its head almost came off before it hit the deck.

Bentley brought the heel of his boot down onto the skull of the creature, smashing its diseased brains all over the ground. He looked up to see the other creature—the one that he had front-kicked—coming out of the room, wearing the same attire. Before Bentley could do anything, Pickle stepped forward and rammed his blade upwards, into the beast's forehead, the tip of the blade poking out the top of the skull. Pickle allowed the creature to fall to the floor, and removed the blade.

He wiped the dark blood on its tattered clothing, then placed it under his belt. He then closed the door to the storeroom and took a look at Rick Morgan, who stood motionless and wide-eyed.

"Not quite used to this world, are yer?" Pickle called over to Rick.

Rick shook his head, embarrassed that he was slow and hesitant to react to Bentley and Pickle's episode with the two dead.

"Don't worry about it, " Pickle cackled, easing Rick's guilt. "The more yer do it, the stronger and braver it makes yer."

"Okay." Rick gulped and blew out a breath. "So what now?"

Pickle nodded over to the stash of carrier bags. "Time to go shopping."

Chapter Twenty Three

Sheryl was making her way over to Karen, after sorting out Jimmy Mac.

Karen nodded. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

The two women made long strides towards the articulated lorry where three guards could be seen. Two of the men were sitting on the cab, the other was by the side, standing on the road, having a cigarette. Where did he get cigarettes from? Karen wondered.

As the two females reached the lorry, Karen called up to a guard she didn't recognise—she didn't recognise
any
of them—and asked. "Did Paul Dickson definitely go onto the estate?"

"Yeah," a young-looking guard confirmed. "I saw him turn left onto the Queensway road myself."

"And you couldn't stop him?" Sheryl looked with a scowl on her face, waiting for an answer.

All three of the guards looked shamefaced, and then the young-looking man responded once again. "He was too quick. By the time we knew it, he was by Queensway."

"Really?" Sheryl was now smirking.

"Er ... yeah, really."

"And you never thought to go after him?"

"We did shout after him, but..."

Sheryl laughed mockingly, "But you didn't go after him because you were too scared. Just in case the dead were around. The dead haven't been seen in mass numbers around these parts for weeks."

"Look..." Another guard decided to speak up, clearly irate at Sheryl's comments. The man was a large individual, bald, and looked like he was nearing retirement age. "We're not allowed to just leave our posts. Lee said that—"

"Fuck Lee!" snapped Sheryl. "You shouldn't have let him leave. He's a grieving father!"

Sheryl climbed up the step of the cab, opened the door to get inside the HGV and slid across the leather seats. She went across the seats to the other side. Karen followed suit.

As soon as both women stepped out and climbed down onto the road, now on the other side of the barrier, they began walking away from the large vehicle and checked that they had what they needed: A weapon and a water bottle.

Karen had her machete, whereas Sheryl had a large Eagle Handle Hunter Bowie Knife with a ten inch blade—a weapon she had taken from Hednesford's Industrial Estate, where the ill-fated run had cost Luke John his life.

"And where the hell are you two going?" A male voice bellowed from behind the girls, as they were walking away from the camp.

"Have a guess!" Sheryl called back. "Useless pricks!"

Another male voice bellowed from behind them. "You've got a serious attitude problem, Sheryl. You know that?"

"No I don't. I just don't have time for yellow-bellied wankers."

"Wow." Karen was walking by Sheryl's side and began to laugh. She took a swig of water from the bottle in her pocket. "You really know how to make friends."

"They're just a bunch of stupid, gutless men. Anyway, I don't bother making friends. They just end up dying."

"I can understand that."

"I bet you can."

Karen looked at Sheryl and said, with a smile, "Thanks for this."

"I'm doing it for myself," said Sheryl, her strides were longer than Karen's and was now getting further ahead. "John Lennon once said that boredom creates tension. He was right. Since Lee left me out of this run, I've been bored shitless."

Karen didn't know how to respond to Sheryl's comment. Karen thought that
she
could be obnoxious and had a potty mouth, but Sheryl seemed to be at a higher level.

Karen cleared her throat and said, "Well, thanks anyway."

"No worries."

The two women turned left and went on to the main road of the Pear Tree Estate, Queensway, and pulled out their blades. Karen had the machete, a weapon that she hadn't used in a while, and Sheryl pulled out her knife. They were both ready for whatever surprises that were about to come their way.

Chapter Twenty Four

Lee James took a quick peep at the fuel gauge and saw that the tank was three-quarters full. He had two miles to go before he reached Rugeley, and shook his head with a smile. This had been the easiest run he had been involved in. He then thought about Sheryl and how pissed off she was when he told her she wasn't needed for this particular trip.

He liked Sheryl, but the incident in the woods had mortified him. His family had been killed, and under two months since their death he had engaged in sexual activity with Sheryl, albeit briefly. He had no idea what came over him—the pair of them. They were tired, in an apocalyptic world, sweaty, and yet they seemed to have found the urge to fuck.

His mind wandered and he began to think about that macabre night; the night he lost his family.

Lee, Denise and his little girls had fled to the woods, because staying at their home was untenable. They wondered what the hell to do. Although they stayed in the woods, they remained close to the country road, as they didn't want to go too deep.

In the short time they had stayed in the wooded area, only three vehicles had passed by: Two cars and a prison van. The two cars never stopped for the family when they tried to flag the vehicles down, and they didn't bother with the prison van.

On that fateful night, Lee was supposed to be keeping a watch out for his family, but had nodded off for a few minutes as they slept in the darkness, curled up next to a tree. Denise's screams had forced Lee out of his sleep, and he turned to see the woods moving. He had fumbled for his torch and put it on to see that the woods weren't actually moving; the whole area was awash with the dead and they were encircling the family.

He quickly got to his feet, walked over and grabbed Denise. He remembered saying to Denise: "We've gotta go" over and over again. More screams came from the woman as she saw her two sleeping girls being eaten and ripped apart by six of the dead as they slept. Lee shone the torch to see his eldest girl was now awake while they pulled out her insides, and he briefly dropped to his knees in shock.

Denise ran over to her girls, but Lee held her back and told her that it was too late. He grabbed her hand, shone the torch all around, and could see a sufficient gap for them to escape. Another few seconds and they'd be completely surrounded by these diseased fiends.

Still holding onto her hand, he ran towards the country road, accidentally dropping his torch.

Lee couldn't see where he was going; it was dark and there was tears in his eyes, but he knew the direction where the road was. They reached the road and Lee had to pull an hysterical Denise back as she made another attempt to go back for her little girls. Lee grabbed her by both shoulders and told her there was no point going back.

They were dead.

It took two years to conceive their first child, and within seconds both of them were gone.

They ran in the darkness, along the road, and could see the silhouettes of a horde in front of them. They turned on their heels and had two choices: Back into the woods, on the other side of the road, or along the country lane in the opposite direction.

Still grabbing a hold of his wife's hand, Lee decided to run along the country lane, the opposite way, and both grief-stricken parents ran, their feet slapping the tarmac.

Two of the dead came out of the woods and one grabbed Denise by the hair. Lee released her hand and ran a few yards ahead, and she released a scream and begged him to help her. Lee stopped running and went back for his wife. By this time another five appeared from the side of the woods, and Lee thought that they were never going to escape from these persistent fuckers. He was convinced they were both going to die and panicked once he saw Denise take a bite to her arm. She fought her way out of the creature's grasps and staggered towards Lee.

The beasts grew in numbers and he could see, standing on the country road, that the right side of the woods had dozens of those things coming out, and there were many more in front and behind them. The left side of the woods was the only place they could go, but even then they'd be followed.

He took her hand and they headed for the woodland to their left, but Lee stopped running. He held his wife, looked her in the eyes, kissed her on the forehead and told her that he loved her. He then grabbed her shoulders as the horde gained, and pushed her over onto the road. They quickly, and predictably, swarmed around her, and Lee ran into the woods with his hands over his ears to drown out his wife's screams.

He tried to convince himself that they'd both be dead if they tried to flee together—Denise was screwed anyway with the bite to her arm. He was snowed under with guilt because he had forced his wife to endure such an horrific end to her life.

But it would be quick.

He convinced himself it would be quick.

In a matter of minutes he had lost his three girls. He didn't know if he wanted to continue living after what had just happened, but he needed to try.

On that night, the tears streamed down his face, and his throat was so tight he felt like he was choking. He was the same now, whilst driving the tanker, thinking about that awful night and the guilt that he felt—that he was still feeling. He snapped out of his daydreaming once a small figure appeared on the Hednesford Road from out of the bushes.

A little girl.

Before Lee had time to brake or swerve, the body went under the truck and Lee hit the brakes. Once the vehicle came to a stop, he threw his head back and tried to get his breathing back to normal. A minute passed and, with the engine on, he opened the door and jumped out of the truck, onto the empty road. He made hesitant steps towards the body of the little girl, but progressed no further and took a peep from a few yards away. The vehicle had messed her up, but he could tell by her face that she wasn't human when he hit her.

He released a sigh, and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes from his daydreaming before. He got back into the truck, engine still running, shut the door and moved away once again.

Another minute had passed as the tanker went along the road, doing forty, and Lee James stroked his dark beard, thinking about the next run. Where could they go next? Power Station Road, and finally get the barbed wire?

Most runs were hunches, but some were information they had received from newer residents, like the individual that told them about the tanker.

His eyes narrowed as the lorry progressed along the Hednesford Road, and he saw two females standing on the left hand side. As he passed them, he took a glance out of the driver's side window.

One had short blonde hair, five-six in height, and the other was an attractive woman. She had dark hair, tied in a long ponytail. They glared at him as he drove past, and he would have stopped for the women, but with them carrying a baseball bat each, he decided not to. The day had been trouble-free, and he didn't want it to end on a bad note. The two women weren't too far from the camp, so if they turned up, he'd check them out then.

He went by Slitting Mill, on his left, and eventually passed the road to Stile Cop on his right, then went by the 'Welcome to Rugeley' sign and entered Draycott Park. Another two dead stumbled out of a street, and this time he never flinched when he ran them both down. He added more gas and slipped the vehicle in a higher gear.

He was a minute away from the camp.