Snatchers: Volume Two (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 4-6) (45 page)

Bentley blew out his cheeks, and shook his head. "No wonder there were loads in there. They were feeding on some poor soul."

After a few minutes had passed, Bentley pointed up ahead and asked Paul to pull in. Once Paul pulled the car into a spacious part of the woods, both men and Kyle began walking. Bentley assured Paul his car would be safe, and he believed him.

Paul and Bentley began to strike up a conversation, and Paul's companion told him that he had been predicting this situation for years. Even way back, when scientists started cloning, he was aware that medical science had gone too far, and feared what else scientists were going to tamper with, and possibly fuck up.

At the time, the media had no idea where this virus had originated, although there were nods towards the biomedical centre in Newcastle. This made the situation even more frustrating, but Bentley was certain that it could only be something that occurred in a laboratory, possibly a research centre, and the first victim came from within that centre.

Bentley was what some people would call a prepper. He was somebody who was waiting and prepared for this kind of situation. Although people back in the old world may have thought that Bentley Drummle was insane, it was
he
who was now having the last laugh—although he never seemed smug about the situation. But what bothered Paul was why this so-called prepper was without a car. This was a subject he was going to ask about at a later date, as now, he was relieved to be in a positive situation.

When they got near the cabin in the woods, Paul seemed impressed. At around twenty yards away from the place, in all directions, the shack was surrounded by barbed wire to stop intruders. The wire had been wrapped around tree trunks to achieve this, and they left a foot gap around the bottom for Bentley to crawl in and out. Paul was surprised when Bentley had told him that not one ghoul had come from the woods and had approached the cabin so far.

Paul could see a pot of soup bubbling on a stove that seemed to be powered by one of the many gas canisters that Bentley possessed. Waiting at the cabin was Bentley's partner, Laura Davies.

She wasn't Paul's type; she had long ginger hair and was thin. Bentley introduced the pair of them to Laura; she was very welcoming and seemed pleased to have extra company. Paul told Bentley about the gallons of water and tins in the boot of his car, and Bentley told him that he would get them later on.

Paul explained to Laura what he and Kyle had gone through and promised that they would only stay one night, if that was acceptable. They all had soup, and then the exhausted father and son retired early to a room that was shown to them by Laura.

Chapter Thirty Five

"It's okay," a young voice called out.

Karen Bradley twisted her neck to find that it was young David Watkins in the back of the car that had given her the fright.

"What the hell are you doing?" Karen screamed.

"I'm sorry," the fifteen-year-old cried. "I wanted to come with you, but I knew you'd say no."

Karen lowered her head and rested it on the steering wheel for a while. She took a few deep breaths before making her next comment, trying to lower her rapid heartbeat. "What the hell do you wanna come out here for? You're just a kid."

"I wanted to do something worthwhile." explained David. "Harry is the only friend I have left. I wanted to..."

"What?"

David looked lost in deliberation, and eventually shook his head. "I don't really know."

"I can't go back now. You better not get in the way," warned Karen, and then took a look in the back of the car and investigated further. "You haven't even brought anything with you."

"What like?"

"Food. A weapon."

"I thought we were just picking them up?"

"I don't know what's happened yet." Karen sighed, then slammed her hands on the steering wheel in anger. "Sit back."

Karen fired the engine and pulled away. She turned left at a junction and saw two cars that appeared to have crashed into one another. She never bothered to look if there was anything inside the vehicles and drove on. She looked into her rear-view mirror and stared at David Watkins who was shaking and nibbling on the skin at the side of his fingers.

She muttered quietly, "Stupid little prick." She drove for a further minute and then suddenly slowed down, and cursed, "Cocksuckers!"

"What is it?" David Watkins questioned.

"Have a look for yourself."

David leaned forward from the back and squinted his eyes to see four members of the dead, stumbling around the middle of the road. The sound of the engine had alerted them, and slowly, one by one, they headed for the car.

"Can you ram them?" David was now beginning to panic.

"Probably, but we'd damage the vehicle. I don't fancy being on foot."

Karen switched the engine off and opened the driver's door.

"What the fuck are you doing?" David bawled.

"I'm going to talk some sense into them." Karen released a smile, but it soon disappeared that her cruel joke was something that Vincent Kindl would have said.

"What?"

"Just sit back and try not to shit yourself."

Karen shut the door and walked forwards to see the four beings more clearly. They were all female, and were dressed in laddered stockings, L-plates stuck on their chests, and were dressed in pink clothing. The first one that approached Karen was wearing a long necklace, and attached to the necklace was a chocolate in the shape of a penis. She had no idea how these women had ended up in the middle of the countryside, but it appeared that, as human beings and before the apocalypse, they were on a hen night.

Karen took out her machete, while David watched from inside the car, and took out the beast with one strike down the centre of the skull. As soon as she pulled the blade out, the creature fell in a heap.

The other three shambled towards Karen collectively, and she knew that taking three out in such a short space of time was going to be hard work as well as dangerous. She went round the back of the car.

It worked out better than she had planned.

Two of the creatures went around the car one way, and the other went another. They had been separated, and Karen headed towards the one on its own. She held the blade with her right hand and rammed it into the skull of the second member of the now defunct hen party.

This time Karen went to the front of the car and allowed the two Snatchers from the back to head towards her, away from the car. Karen took a step forwards and swung her blade on two occasion. From the back of the car David watched in awe as he saw this young girl take off the top half of the heads of these diseased fiends.

As soon as the two creatures dropped to the floor, David opened his door and stepped out of the vehicle. He asked, "You okay?"

Karen nodded, and couldn't give the young man a verbal answer as she was out of breath. Eventually she panted, "Let's get going." She walked past David and was about to get in the front car, but turned around and glared at David Watkins who was standing over the first victim, staring at the thing.

"Come on!" called Karen. She then sighed impatiently and walked in David's direction. "What the hell are you looking at?"

"She looks quite nice," said David, almost as if he was in a trance. He tried to imagine what the creature used to look like when it was human, when it was breathing, and when it was warm.

"What?" Karen was unsure whether he was joking or not.

"No...I meant when she was normal—she looked like she could have been a good-looking person."

"You are one fucked up kid."

David pointed at the creature. "But don't you think she has a pretty face."

"Are we really having this conversation?" Karen couldn't believe what she was hearing and was unsure whether to give young David a slap. "What's pretty about her? Is it her blue skin? Her dried-in blood around her chin? Or is it her beautiful, mysterious dead milky eyes that do it for you?"

"What I meant was—"

"Is it the slice down the middle of her face? Do you two want some alone-time?"

"Of course not." David didn't realise that Karen was being sardonic, and protested, "I was just saying."

"Look." Karen placed her hands on her hips and tried to swallow her anger. "Let me put this bluntly."

"Wh-what is it?" stammered David, and looked at Karen.

"Get in the fucking car!"

*

The hour was nearly up and all members of Vincent's crew were frightened, hungry and dehydrated. Their hearts thumped faster once one of the doors to the hangar opened, and in walked Gavin and his sister. Vince didn't know which one was worse: Gavin, or the sister. He remembered a story Jack Slade had told him about the sister walking up to a family man and stabbing him to death while the beaten man lay on the floor, in the middle of a street.

"I'll tell them where we stay," said Pickle. "Fuck it."

"No you won't." Shaz was fretful but resolute. "If they go to the camp you're putting dozens of lives at risk. And what do you think they're gonna do when they see Karen? The same woman that broke that bitch's nose."

"She's right," admitted Vince. "We can't say anything. And even if they do, they'll kill us anyway."

"I wonder where they're from," Pickle said.

"Jack told me that they were hanging around Etching hill." Vince spoke with his throat as dry as it had ever been. "That's the other side of town."

"Anyway," Pickle whispered as the two siblings were near, "let's see what happens. It's Shaz's turn to answer their question. Maybe they'll give Shaz a break."

"Like they gave Harry a break," Shaz responded.

"On your feet," Gavin barked.

Eventually the three stood up and were guided, rather roughly, on their way back outside. Pickle felt for Shaz. She was putting on a brave face but the tears flowed.

"We'll try and get out o' this," Pickle said to her comfortingly.

"It's too late." Shaz spoke with realism, and cried, "It's gonna hurt, but eventually I'm gonna be with Spencer again."

"This is cruel." Pickle snarled at Gavin, who was walking by the side of them. "Why don't yer put a bullet in our heads and be done with it?"

Gavin never answered; he just wore a thin smile on his face as they reached outside.

Pickle felt his eyeballs watering and his throat tightening. He took another look at Shaz.
You brave, brave girl
.

The routine was the same as before when Harry Beresford had met his fate. Shaz was separated from the men, and Pickle and Vince were made to get on their knees this time. One of the guards was round the back of the shed, enticing the dead to the end of the hut, and Gavin's sister was crouched, staring through the spy-hole of the hut, seeing what was happening.

Gavin stood in front of the standing Sharon Bailey and said, "Just like before, I'm going to ask this just the once. Where-is-your-camp?"

Shaz stared through Gavin, and not only did he admire Shaz's resistance, he admired the two men for not speaking up and saving their friend, despite knowing the end result for not giving an answer.

Gavin smiled. "Fine. Take her in."

Two guards, on either side of her, hooked their arm underneath Shaz's and pulled her towards the hut. As they dragged her she twisted her neck to see both Vince and Pickle with wide eyes. "Don't worry about me," she said to them. "Spencer's waiting for me."

Gavin shook his head at the scene, and couldn't help feeling impressed with Shaz's attitude. His sister stood to her feet and grabbed the padlock. "It's clear."

"Good." Gavin nodded just the once, then he lowered his head and was lost in thought. "Wait!" The guards carrying Shaz had stopped.

"What's wrong?" his sister spoke with annoyance.

"Let's give them another day to think about it."

"No chance," his sister began to remonstrate. "I think we should—"

"Just remember who's in charge." Gavin looked at his watch. There was half a day left. He then turned to the bearded guard and said, "Get them back inside and put them back in the stationery room. Feed them, give them water. They're not gonna talk...not yet."

"Shit," his sister began to laugh. "You're going to torture them, aren't you?"

Gavin never answered.

Chapter Thirty Six

The vehicle slowed down after just four minutes on the road, and a petrified David Watkins sighed, "What is it now?"

As soon as the car came to a stop Karen pulled up the parking brake. She pointed up ahead. "Look. There's a house up ahead, on the right hand side."

David could just about see part of the building. "Maybe they stayed there the night, for whatever reason. The hangar isn't far from here, so they could have checked the place out themselves."

"That's what I was thinking."

She pulled the car forwards and parked in a lay-by. She grabbed her bag and machete and slowly exited the vehicle.

"Where're you going?" David was now frantically chewing on his nails.

"We walk the rest." Karen put the bag on her back and shut the door. She stood outside her means of transport. She waited for David to be out of the vehicle himself before adding, "We'll go over the field and through the back way."

David didn't say anything. He followed behind the machete-wielding twenty-three-year-old, and never asked another question until they reached the back garden of the place. Peering over for a few minutes, Karen announced that it seemed clear in the garden, and she had seen no movement through the windows of the house either.

They both entered the back garden and Karen could see a toilet window open. She assumed it was a toilet window because of the frosted glass. She had climbed through one of these before when she was at Heath Hayes with Pickle, but she didn't fancy her chances with this one. She looked David up and down and told him to go in.

"But what if those things are in there?" he cried.

"I didn't see any movement inside." Karen's patience was wearing thin with the youngster and couldn't hold her tongue. "What was the point in sneaking in the back of the car, and then you finally come here and act like a pussy?"

David Watkins lowered his head shamefully and seemed to have take an eternity to give Karen a response. "I...I kind of like you. That's one of the reasons why I wanted to come."

"For God's sake." She dropped her head in her hands, and once she looked up she almost felt sorry for the youngster. "Look, even if you were in your twenties and extremely attractive, nothing would happen. Just get it out of your head right now. Or you could go back to the car, toss off, then meet me back here. The days of holding hands and skipping through a field of daffodils are long gone. We're surrounded by death. Everywhere...there's death. Besides, I'm pregnant. My fiancé has only been dead for over a month. I smell. I'm hairy, and I haven't plucked by chin in weeks."

"I'm an idiot." David blushed and looked upset.

Karen had sympathy for the hormonal teenager and slapped him on the back. "Come on." She pointed at the bathroom window. "Get in, and see if there's a key to unlock the main door."

He did as he was told and got his skinny frame in with ease. It took a while before he managed to open the door, and Karen guessed correctly that he was probably peering around every corner to make sure there was no sign of the dead.

"The door was already open," snapped David.

"Oops."

Once they were both inside, she checked the ground floor and motioned David to follow her. As soon as they both reached the landing they began to check the back room and saw masses of tins and other products. They were all wrapped in cellophane and in cardboard trays.

"Wow." David hadn't seen so much food for a month. "Awesome."

"Keep your voice down, " Karen scorned. "If there's this much food, then people stay here. I saw wooden pallets stacked up at the side of the house. They must be emptying the hangar and moving as much food as they can into the house."

"Why's that?"

"Would you wanna stay in a hangar during the night?"

David added, "So really they're doing what Vince wanted to do. In fairness, they beat us to it."

"I agree," Karen nodded and scratched at her itchy scalp, "but where's Pickle and Shaz? Do these people have them?"

She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him along to the next room. She half-gasped when she went in and saw a man lying on a bed, fast asleep and fully clothed. His hands were wrapped around a shotgun, and she had no intention of prising it out of his grasp. They both then heard a vehicle pulling up and the slamming of doors.

She crept into the back room once again and took a peep. She recognised the faces straight away. It was a man and a woman, and her nose still looked damaged from when Karen had rammed a shotgun butt in her face a few days ago.

"Fuck," she said.

"What is it?" asked David in a panic.

She quickly looked around and went over to the bathroom. She saw a cupboard to the side and grabbed David. "Quick. Get in."

They crawled into the cupboard and Karen pulled it towards her, to close it, as the front door of the house was being opened.

"What is it?" David asked again in a whisper.

"These are people I've had a run-in with before." Karen then shushed him, and they both were silent as the two pairs of feet stomped their way to the first floor.

They heard voices in the nearest bedroom, and it sounded like they had woken the sleeping man. The door shut and all that could be heard were muffled voices, to Karen's frustration. The door then opened and they heard a man's voice tell someone, "Get your arse over to the hangar, and we'll be over in a while."

"What are you gonna do with the rest of them?" another male voice spoke, which Karen had guessed that it was the guard that had been sleeping.

"What do you think we're gonna do?" a female voice yelled, her tone was threatening. "We're gonna let that Vince and the rest of them sweat until tomorrow, and then get whatever information we can out of them, even if we have to beat them. If they cooperate, we'll give them a quick death. And if they don't, we'll throw them into the shed and let them get torn to pieces like that teenager that was with them."

David Watkins gasped and began to quietly sob after hearing about the demise of his friend, Harry Beresford. Karen gave David a gentle nudge, hinting to him to shut up. He tried his best, but the sniffling continued. Karen felt for the youngster, but they needed to remain quiet as she knew that these people were not to be crossed.

As the three individuals went downstairs, Karen then overheard the woman asking someone if the door had been fixed, and then the voices became quiet and muffled as they went to the ground floor. Two minutes later they had left.

"I can't believe Harry's dead," sobbed David.

"Shit. They've got 'em." Karen clambered out of the cupboard, her bag still attached to her back. She helped David out and went into the back bedroom again to check out the main road. Another truck pulled up and Karen shook her head. "Give me a break." She saw three men get out, all carrying guns, and she turned and saw a hatch above her with a cord hanging down. "Quickly," she snapped at David. "Into the attic."

David pulled on the cord and stepladders slowly lowered down. They both went up quickly and pulled the ladders up, which automatically closed the hatch.

"Now what?" asked David.

"You shut the fuck up."

"We're losing daylight."

"We're gonna have to stay here until the house is empty." She turned to David in the dusky area and said, "I suggest you try and get some rest."

Karen then sniffed and could smell an awful tang. She cupped her hand over her nose. "Was that you?"

"I'm sorry. I farted and must have followed through a little."

"For fuck's sake."

For hours the two of them sat patiently in the attic, waiting for the place to be human-free, but it never came. It wasn't planned, and it wasn't something that Karen had wanted, but exhaustion finally got the better of them and the pair of them eventually fell asleep.