Snatchers (Book 9): The Dead Don't Scream (20 page)

Chapter Forty

August 6th
.

Walking over the football field, Elza and Ophelia looked around a place they were unfamiliar with. Despite this, Elza knew the woods were near.

They were now on the dirt path at the side of the field, and could see it was coming to an end. They turned right up a steep path and were greeted by a hill. Cardboard Hill.

Elza was certain that once they made it over the hill, they'd be near the woods, but she could see the uncertainty on Ophelia's face. Elza understood her friend's unhappiness. The hill was a steep fucker, and looked like back-breaking work to get to the top.

"Come on." Elza smiled at her friend. "Even if we come away with nothing, think of the exercise. We can't be hanging about the church every day. It's not healthy."

They went through the gap in the hedge and saw a pile of bodies to their left, which confused them.

They moaned as they progressed upwards and once they reached the top of the hill, the pair of them threw their bags on the grass and collapsed to the floor.

Elza looked to her left and could see a cluster of trees. Maybe there was something behind them. She knew that walking the other way was where they needed to be if they wanted to go to the woods, and after a two-minute breather she got back to her feet and told Ophelia to move.

They went across the flat part of the hill and stopped once they reached the other side. They looked down to see a bank full of nettles and bracken. Beyond that was acres and acres of trees.

The woods!

They could either descend down the hill and walk through the nettles and bracken, or follow the dirt path that went round the area and go the long way round. Elza had already made a decision and walked through the greenery and descended down the hill, making sure she didn't get stung.

Once this was achieved, they entered the woods and were pleased that the area was spacious and any future danger would be seen in time.

Wordlessly, both females progressed through the woods and finally managed to reach a wide dirt path that consisted of sand and pebbles. With the spacious trees to either side of them, they were relaxed when they walked, and their journey had turned even more pleasing when they could hear the sound of running water.

"This is better than I'd planned," said Elza with a smile.

*

The sound of rustling had brought her out of her deep sleep and she shot up with a start, heart beating out of her chest. She took a short walk to her trap, to see that nothing had showed up, but she had more pressing matters to be concerned about at the moment.

She went back to the area where she had slept and watched intently as two figures could be seen walking through the woods. She could hear no voices; she could just see the legs of the two individuals progressing through the greenery. As soon as they entered the open area of the woodland, the young girl could see that the two individuals were women. They were both carrying bats and had bags over their shoulders.

The lone girl watched as the two females collected water in six large jars, screwed the lids back on, then put them into their bags. Three in each. The girl then overheard the woman with the brown tied-back hair say to her friend that after bathing in the stream, they were going to have a look around the area to see if there was anything for them to eat. The young girl, still crouching, out of view from the two adult females, watched as the women stripped and began to bathe themselves in the ice-cold stream.

The bathing only took place over a short period of time. No towel was with them, so they put their clothes back on whilst their bodies were still damp. With the stifling heat in the woods, the crouching girl thought that bathing in the stream must have been wonderful, but would have to wait until the adults were gone before she could experience the water on her flesh again, like she did the evening before.

The two women looked tough, especially the not-so-braw-looking one with the short blonde hair. She had no idea who they were. For all she knew, they could be bad people, and thought it would be for the best to stay where she was, let them have their fun and she could bathe herself once they were gone.

Rustling could be heard from a distance, near where the bathers were. They brought the bats back, and it appeared that they had done this sort of thing before: killing the dead, and possibly the living.

The young girl watched on as a group of beasts stumbled out of the greenery and walked alongside the stream, heading for the two girls.

A battle took place, but she could see that the one with the brown tied-back hair was struggling.

Does she act? Or let them be?

The young girl had a decision to make.

Chapter Forty One

Paul Dickson's eyes slowly opened and were full of water. He couldn't see the room he was in and was confused about where he was. He then realised he was in the  house, near the Wolseley Arms pub.

He sat up and allowed the water to fall from his eyes. He had been dreaming about an event that had happened only a few weeks ago.

He was in a car with Bentley, on the way to the supermarket, looking for Julie and Bell whilst Kyle was back at the camp, in the woods, with Laura, Bentley's partner.

Bentley tried to lighten the mood with some juvenile questions, then when they arrived they searched the inside of the supermarket and left empty-handed. When they left, Paul noticed Julie's car and saw his girls inside, reanimated. Bentley had to take care of them whilst Paul went back to Bentley's vehicle.

The dream then took Paul to the time where he had to sit down with Kyle, to tell his little boy that he was never going to see his mum and his little sister again. God, that was a heartbreaking moment.

Then he woke up.

Did he wake up naturally, or was it something else that woke him?

His senses were alerted when he heard a thud. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, slowly swung his legs and sat at the side of the bed. He dropped his head in his hands and tried to get his bearings.

Was he still dreaming?

It took him a while to realise where he was, and stood to his feet to gaze out of the window. It was a bright day, and Paul guessed correctly that he had slept through to the morning. Another faint sound was heard and Paul crept to the door, making sure he had the knife that he had taken from the kitchen in his pocket. He took out the knife and took the lock off the door, and slowly opened it by a couple of inches. He peered out with trepidation, but the landing seemed clear.

He opened the door wider. It
was
clear.

Maybe the noises came from downstairs. Was somebody in? He never heard the chairs that he had stacked up by the back door clatter.

Calm down, Dickson. It just might be someone like yourself, a survivor, seeking a place to stay for a while.

Despite trying to keep serene by breathing in and out slowly, his heart was beating out of his chest as he reached the top of the landing and gazed down the stairs, waiting for something to appear from the ground floor.

He stood for minutes, unsure whether to go down or not, and began to think about the man he had killed the day before, in the woods. Weeks ago he had hit the youngest Murphy with a hammer when he broke into Paul's house and went up to his first floor. The result was that the youngster, Lance Murphy, fell down Paul's stairs and banged his head off of the radiator.

He had killed him, but not intentionally. Killing Jim
was
intentional, and Paul wondered what kind of man he had become.

He heard stories about how Karen and Pickle had to kill people when they were out there, and now he was beginning to understand why. Even with the apocalypse in its infancy, some people had turned wild and out of control.

He had no idea why.

Maybe it was a mixture of losing family members, resulting in psychological damage, and having no law to fear. Over four hundred prisoners being released from Stafford Jail probably didn't help matters either.

Another noise was heard. It came from the floor he was on. He took a few steps across the landing, approached the first closed door and placed his ear against it. There was no sound. The thud must have come from the other room, thought Paul. He had no idea if it was survivors or not, or just the wind. Maybe a bedroom window had been left slightly open.

He puffed a breath out and was unsure whether to speak or not. He gently knocked the door and decided to say something. "Hello," he said in a whisper. "If there's anyone in there, open the door."

There was no response. Paul opened the door and peered in. There was nobody inside, so he stepped in, a little more calmer than he was before, and had a look around. He checked under the bed and had a look in the cupboard. Clothes were still present, suggesting to Paul that the original residents of the house were in a hurry when they left.

There was another door by the bed, and Paul wondered whether it was an en suite or a large walk-in cupboard. Again, he placed his ear against the door and heard nothing. He tried to push it, but it wouldn't budge. He then thought that maybe it opened out, towards him. He was right. He pulled the door and it flew open with two of the dead piling out.

He fell backwards as the two naked beasts stumbled out. Paul quickly got to his feet, pricking his hand with the knife he was holding. He yelped, dropped the knife and had to use both hands to push the first one away, forcing it to stumble backwards. The two dead were a male and a female. Old bites could be seen on their discoloured naked bodies, and he guessed that they could have been in there since the beginning.

But why were they naked? Were they a couple? Or did they used to be casual lovers?

With the two advancing towards him, Paul had to forget about the knife and left the room in a panic, banging into the doorframe on his way out. He fell over after hitting his head and tried to pick himself up as the two dead were only a metre away. He scrambled to his feet and went to the nearest door to his right.

Dazed and confused, Paul decided to go into the other room, stay there for a while to get his bearings, then leave the house by the bedroom window.

He swung the door open and his eyes widened with horror.

More naked bodies piled out, making Paul scream and move away from the dead on his trembling legs.

He reached the top of the stairs and could see the dead behind him, all naked. He didn't know how many. He took a few steps, heading to the ground floor, and felt a hand grab his shirt. Paul took a stumble on the stairs and fell the rest to the bottom, with one of them tumbling after him.

Paul was on his back and could see one of them falling, heading down towards him. It was a naked female, and the pair of them began to tussle once it fell on top of him. Paul yelped in panic and grabbed the naked woman by the throat, frightened that he could get infected.

He felt the cold breasts of the defunct woman stroke his face as they hung down whilst he pushed her head up, trying to stop himself from getting bitten. He took a panicky look to the side and up to the first floor, up the stairs, to see at least another nine gathering at the top, all naked, and cussed when a male fell down this time. The male ghoul lay across Paul's legs once it reached the bottom, and this made him double his panic.

He needed to get out. He needed to do something drastic, otherwise he was going to die ... today!

Paul tried to wriggle his way out of his macabre situation, and began to squeeze as hard as he could at the woman's throat, his nails digging in. His fingers sank into the rotten part of its neck, going into the slimy coldness, and he used all of his strength to try and rip its head off. He didn't think his fingers were long enough to penetrate through the eye socket and damage the brain.

He continued to squeeze and winced when his hands had gone straight in. He kicked out at the man, that had fallen on top of his legs, and could see him trying to take a bite at his ankles whilst the dead man's balls and penis were rubbing against Paul's thigh.

He continued to kick out at the man and finally managed to tear the woman's neck open, its head flopping to one side. Dark blood hit him as the neck came apart and dropped on his shirt. His hands were covered in gunk, but he had more pressing matters. Two more fell and were tumbling down from the top of the stairs.

He managed to push the woman away to the side, head flopped, jaws still gnashing, and scrambled away from the bottom of the stairs, leaving four of them on the floor.

He took a quick look up to the landing before making his exit, and could see six there. Another one fell, and watched as it went head over heels and banged its head off of the wall. Apart from the beast that had its neck ripped apart, the naked ghouls at the bottom of the stairs began to get to their feet and Paul Dickson left through the front door in panic, leaving it wide open.

He staggered onto the road, into the morning sun, and looked up the lane where the seven creatures were the previous night. Thankfully, they weren't there anymore. He walked with unsteady feet a few yards forwards, desperate to get to the camp, to get a wash and have a drink. He could now see that the seven ghouls from the evening before were at the side of the road. All had been destroyed.

Someone was here. Someone had taken care of them.

His walk turned into a light jog, but he suddenly stopped when he could hear the sound of an engine.
Fuck. Not more trouble. Maybe I should go the other way, towards the Wolseley bridge.

He turned around and saw nine naked beasts slowly coming out of the drive of the house he had just left. It seemed that all of them had now reached the ground floor and had exited the premises, except one. Except the severely damaged one that Paul had battled with.

"Fuck."

The nine naked beasts came towards him. He turned his back on them and began to jog along the main road, towards his old village.

Up ahead, from around the bend, a vehicle emerged. He waved at the vehicle as it progressed forwards, towards him, and hoped that they were good guys.

He had no idea what else to do. With the dead behind him, his options were limited.