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

Chapter Seventeen

Lee James took the keys from his back pocket and opened the door of the Ford Corsa. He threw his bag in and looked around the street. He knew that the keys to the lorry remained in the ignition at the Globe Island, and was hoping that the guards had fled and hadn't taken the vehicle.

If there were some guards there, he would have to persuade them to leave with him. There were hundreds of the dead on Sandy Lane and they were starting to filter through Hill Street and through the back gardens to Cross Road and Burnthill Lane. He could see seven of them to his right, from a distance, but knew there'd be many more if he hung around long enough.

He started the engine of the vehicle, slipped it into gear and drove away, plagued by guilt because of his selfish actions. Not wanting to attract attention, he chose to drive in the dark with just his sidelights on.

His vision was severely impaired, but it was just a trip from one road to the next. He drove onto Burnthill Lane and could see a few of them on the road ahead, but not enough to give him any trouble. He followed the road, that bent to the right, and was seconds away from the barrier. He turned left at the junction, immediately ploughing into a horde he never thought was there.

His feet came off the pedals, stalling the car, and he screamed out as the dead quickly gathered around his vehicle. There were so many around him that he was unaware that the HGV, that should have been visible to his left, wasn't there anymore. He looked around and every window in his car, apart from the windscreen, had dead faces pressing up against them.

He slipped the vehicle into reverse and hit the accelerator, but the movement from the vehicle was minimal. He couldn't see, but he guessed there were many dozens around him, at least four or five deep. The exact numbers that surrounded Lee James was worse. There were nearly sixty of the dead around his car and with his shaking limbs, he took it out of reverse and tried to slip it into first. Once he managed it, he tried to bring the car forwards. He had managed some success with this, however, the vehicle that was moving at a snail's pace wasn't moving fast enough, about three km per hour.

Lee thrashed the vehicle, but it was causing little progression. He was now crying, calling for God to help him, but his begging was never heard. His heart was drumming the inside of his chest and his breathing was becoming shallow and erratic with fear. Lee rubbed his teary eyes, and tried to ignore the beasts sprawled on the bonnet, trying to get at him.

The windscreen was the only window that didn't have dead faces pressed up against it, but he still couldn't see anything because of the amount of bodies around the bonnet. He turned off the engine.

He released a scream as the driver's side window began to give way, and began to move himself from the driver's seat to the back seat. In all the panic he began to shake, knowing—unless some miracle occurred—that he was going to die.

The driver's window was still closed, but dozens of arms were reaching in the broken window, in hope to grab the fresh meat that was inside. Lee shrieked when he now heard the passenger window caving in and went down, inbetween the back of the driver's seat and the front of the back passenger seat, and tried to make himself look small.

It was a hopeless and desperate attempt to stay alive, but it was all he could think of.

*

Paul Dickson lay on his bed with his hands behind his head; he had been there for a few minutes. The first screams had enticed him to his window for a brief while. He knew what was happening. His fear was minor, and with losing Kyle his life seemed pretty worthless now.

Was he having a mental breakdown?

He had no desire to go out and see if people needed help. Maybe everybody was hiding, including Pickle and Bentley.

Paul Dickson seemed almost calm about the situation.

If the dead come, they come.

Many minutes had passed and the noise from outside was beginning to die down, and he guessed that every person that was outside earlier had either been killed or had found safe refuge in one of the houses. His ears twitched as another sound of an engine could he heard. The sound was coming from behind him, from Burnthill Lane, and this time he got off the bed.

He walked gradually to his window. He opened it slowly so that the hundreds of the dead on Sandy Lane, below him, didn't see the movement and became enticed to the house he was in. He was immediately hit by a chorus of groaning from below. He peered his head outside and could see where the HGV should have been by the Globe Island. It wasn't there, and now there was no barrier, he could see hundreds of Snatchers pouring into Sandy Lane from Horsefair.

He then saw a car from his left come out of Burnthill Lane. He watched as it ploughed into many of the dead, attracting many more to the Ford. The vehicle was thirty yards away from where Paul was, and could see the car disappearing because of the amount of bodies around it. His morbid fascination forced him to glare at the spectacle and he wondered who was in there. Was it somebody he knew?

The seconds dragged and more of the dead circled around the car, if that at all was possible, and he knew that the poor soul that was in the vehicle wasn't going to get a happy ending out of this.

The unfortunate individual was going to die, like many had before, like his Kyle.

He watched as some were managing to crawl their way inside with now some of the  windows out. Paul Dickson stood watching, and the moment the blood-curdling screams hit his ears, he shut the window.

He went over to his bed and went back to his original position before the car had popped up.

With his hands behind the back of his head, he released a small sigh and closed his eyes. Trying to think of good times. He managed a small smile as his thoughts went back to Julie. To Bell.

And, of course, to Kyle.

Chapter Eighteen

Pickle, Sheryl, Vince and Karen sat in silence. The dark bedroom had been quiet for a while, and their ears were still alert, listening out. It had been a few minutes since they had heard a scream and now hoped that everybody had gone indoors and blocked themselves in. Sheryl sat with her eyes widened. It was like the first week all over again, only there were more of them compared to the first week. In fact, she had never seen so many of them in one place.

Their only hope was for them to leave once there was nothing else to devour, but Pickle and Karen were sure that 'giving up', especially knowing that people were inside these homes, was something that the dead didn't do.

Pickle thought back to the time when he and Karen were at a house in Heath Hayes. They had new arrivals, Jack and Thomas Slade with them, as well as Kerry Evans, Paul Parker and Lee Hayward. An injured Jason Bonser came back to the village with a massive horde of them behind him and the group had to escape from the house. But this was worse. There was more of them, and there was no prison van to escape in.

Sitting and waiting was all they could do. Wasn't it?

Their ears pricked up when they heard car tyres screeching. Pickle stood to look out of the window, his neck twisting from side-to-side.

"Anything?" asked Vince.

Pickle shook his head. "Can't see." He sat back down and tucked his knees into his chest.

"Sounds like someone is trying to escape," Karen spoke up. "We only have a few vehicles as it is."

Pickle sighed, "It's the guards that has the keys to the vehicles. But for some reason, they usually leave the keys inside the pickup. Probably because it's always being used for runs and stuff. Might be Lee or Robert trying to escape. Don't blame them. There's nothing anybody can do now."

Sheryl said, "Last time I looked, some of those things were going through to the back gardens. Nowhere is safe."

"We'll stay here until the morning. Try and get some rest." Pickle began to cough, then added, "Whatever we decide, we stick together."

"What happens if they get in?" Karen threw the question at Harry Branston, who looked lost. He didn't look sure how to answer her.

Vince said, "We can't leave. There'll be people that'll need our help. What about Rosemary?"

"As harsh as this may sound..." Pickle began to speak, then cleared his throat, unsure whether the next set of words should be passing his lips. "If they
do
get in, we'll have to go. If there's any chance that we can escape, just the four of us, then we should take it. Then we can come back for the rest in the morning, or when the danger's passed."

"I can't leave Rosemary and Lisa," Vince protested, shocked at what Pickle had just said. "And Stephanie has saved my arse more times than I can remember."

"I understand that. But if yer try and be a hero, yer will die." Pickle then added, "Anyway, it might not come to that."

"I don't know."

"They can't walk upstairs. Can they?" said Sheryl.

"They can't walk up the stairs like you and I," Karen began to explain, "But me and Pickle have witnessed them crawling
up
them. If they get in, we have to go. Simple. I think—"

Karen had been interrupted by the sound of female screams, coming from outside.

Vince looked at Pickle for a response, but there wasn't one.

One of the screams sounded like it was coming from a young girl. Lisa?

Vince went to leave the room, but Pickle pulled him back.

Pickle gritted his teeth and warned Vince, "Going out there could put us all in danger if they see yer."

"That sounded like Lisa."

"How can yer be sure?"

Vince gulped and hunched his shoulders. He wasn't sure.

"Just sit the fuck down and do what everybody else should be doing: Sitting tight and waiting this thing out."

"But there were screams."

"Can you hear screams now?" Sheryl queried with her monotone voice.

Vince listened out, but it was quiet and he shook his head.

"Then they're probably dead now," she said coldly. "Sit down. I don't want to be supper for these fucks because you wanna save the day."

"You can be a right heartless bitch, Sheryl." Vince snapped at her. "You know that?"

"We need cool heads," Sheryl spoke with calm and combed her black hair with her fingers. "If you do anything rash, then you could put yourself and us three in danger."

"She's right." Karen nodded. "You're no good to us,
or
Rosemary, if you become a meal for those cocksuckers out there."

"Fine. Have it your way." Vince huffed, "But it's my fault that this has happened."

"I told yer that I'd twist yer balls if yer blamed yerself again," said Pickle.

"I can't help it."

A smash could be heard from downstairs, and Pickle sighed and dropped his head in his hands.

Vince went over to the window and looked down. "The sheer numbers on the front lawn are coming through the windows. They're gonna get inside."

More smashing occurred, and all knew that it was a matter of time before they got in.

"We're gonna have to go, but we can't leave through the front," Sheryl said. She then turned to Pickle. "We'll go through the back garden. That's the quickest way to the pickup, if it's still there."

Karen also peered out of the window and shook her head in bewilderment. "Getting to the pickup will be more dangerous than leaving in it."

More smashing could be heard from downstairs. They were in.

"We may not have a choice," said Pickle, and pointed at the corner of the bedroom. "Give me a hand with that wardrobe. Let's get this thing downstairs. It might give us some time."

"So, are we gonna leave, or what?" Sheryl asked Harry Branston. For some reason, the three of them looked at him as the leader.

"For now ... no." Pickle rubbed his hands over his face and added, "Let's see how bad it gets,
then
I'll make a decision."

Sheryl seemed angered by Pickle's reluctance, "And if the pickup isn't there by the time you make a decision? What then? The roof? The high school?"

He never gave her a response.

*

With the sound of the dead downstairs, Stephanie Perkins went through the attic and opened the window that led to the roof. There weren't many houses that had an attic, but fortunately this house had
one of them.

The attic itself was a dark place, full of boxes, and although it hadn't been converted to a bedroom, it had been floored. She urged Rosemary and a frightened Lisa to follow her. She was the first to reach the roof and asked Rosemary to pass up her bow and bag. The large bag was heavy. There were only a few pine arrows left, but the heaviness was down to the crowbar inside of it.

Stephanie climbed to the top of the roof—the spine—and put the bag against the chimney. She had slid down a few yards to help Rosemary and Lisa out of the attic's skylight, and tried to ignore the groaning underneath her. It was obvious some of the dead were in the gardens, including the one that belonged to the house where
they
were staying.

A petrified Rosemary told Lisa to go first, and Stephanie held her hands out to the youngster. The nine-year-old was heavier than what Stephanie thought, but managed to drag her out. Seeing that she had struggled with Lisa, Rosemary looked around the attic for something to stand on, but could only find a sealed cardboard box. She had no idea what was in it. She picked it up, struggling because of the weight, but somehow managed to place it under the window. She stood on the box and climbed out with ease, then asked Stephanie which way.

"We're going to the high school." Stephanie hunched her shoulders. "I can't think of anywhere else to go."

Rosemary pointed north. "It's just a two-minute walk."

"I know." Stephanie pointed at the next back garden. It was dark, but the raging fire from the tanker at the front filtered through the alleyways by the sides of the houses, providing a little light. "That garden seems empty. We walk across the roof to the next house and climb down."

"Can't we just stay up here? In the attic?" Rosemary was now holding on tightly to a petrified Lisa.

"If we wait any longer, these gardens will be swarming and we'll be trapped ... for good. Your choice. But if you choose to stay, I'm off. I'm not gonna starve to death."

Although Lisa struggled and was also crying, all three females had managed to get to the top of the roof.

It was a humid night, and all three of them shivered with fright. Stephanie was standing up and was going to lead the way; Lisa was in the middle and Rosemary was behind.

"Put a foot each on either side of the spine of the roof," Stephanie commanded. "Follow me and take slow steps forwards."

"Are you sure?" Rosemary asked with terror in her words.

"Trust me." Stephanie turned her head around and smiled at the pair of them. "I've done this before. Just don't look down, keep looking forwards."

Their feet shuffled across and now they were passing the house that they'd stayed in and were now near the roof of the next semi-detached house. Next, they would have to climb down, possibly down the drainpipe, to reach the garden that didn't have the dead in them.

"Nearly there," said Stephanie, and turned around to see the frightened Lisa and Rosemary shuffling behind her. She broke her own code and looked down. She could see the silhouettes of two ghouls in the back garden. She could handle them with ease, but reaching the vacant one next to it was still the aim. After that, they would cut through the fence over the garden and end up at Burnthill Lane. Hagley Park High School would be their next destination after that.

A scream was suddenly heard from behind Stephanie, a young scream, and she turned around to see that Lisa had slipped and fallen a few yards down the side of the roof that looked over the back garden. Stephanie tried to shush her, forgetting that she was nine and frightened, hoping she wouldn't entice more into the gardens, making their escape a tad more difficult.

Rosemary went onto her front and slid down before Stephanie had a chance to react.

"Be careful," were the only words that came out of Stephanie's mouth, and watched as the brave Rosemary grabbed a hold of Lisa underneath her arm, a few yards from the spine of the roof, and got to her feet and was now crouching.

Stephanie took off her bow and held it out so Rosemary could grab the other end. Rosemary stretched as far as she could and managed a few fingers around it, but her foot slipped because of the loose tiles beneath her. And when she slipped, Lisa slipped with her. With her hand still under Lisa's armpit, Rosemary reached for the bow again. Stephanie reached as far as she could, knowing that she was going to struggle pulling up this woman and child once Rosemary had managed to get a good grip.

Rosemary lunged and tried to grab at the end of the bow once more, this time nowhere near it, and slipped further, only this time she and Lisa went tumbling over the side.

"No!" yelled Stephanie, and heard a thud, telling her that the two females had hit the ground.

Both Rosemary and Lisa's screams filled the night, and a helpless Stephanie began to cry. The two of them must have been injured once they hit the floor, and were now being devoured by the two ghouls that were in the garden.

Stephanie cried, but she couldn't dwell on this. She had to leave. She had to leave before the screams enticed more into the area.

With her bag and bow on her back, she shuffled to the end of the house, slid down the drainpipe at the side, and wasted no time in running through the vacant garden.

The screams had now stopped.