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

Page 23

by Shaun Whittington


  Shaz and Karen gave the young man a friendly nod and continued to walk by.

  "Is that it?" He began to laugh. "Is that all you've gotta say?" He reached for Karen as she turned her head over her shoulder. She slapped his hand away, pulled out her machete, and pressed his groin with the tip of the weapon.

  "Don't ever touch me or I'll take your balls off, son." Karen glared at the teenager with demonic eyes.

  The young man was frozen with fear; his three friends were standing behind, hammers in hand, unsure what to do. The young man held up his hands. "I just wanted to know who you are and where you came from. Relax."

  Shaz whispered in Karen's ear, "Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

  Karen removed the machete and tucked it back into her belt. "What are you doing hanging around here?"

  The leader answered, "We live in that house." He pointed behind him. "We were just about to go into the town centre and see if there's anything to eat."

  "You're all young men," Shaz spoke, pointing out the obvious. "Where's everybody else? Your parents?"

  He turned around to look at his friends who all dropped their heads. "They're all dead." He pointed at the house. "That's my house. I used to go to school with these guys. My sister and my little brother are in there. He's only four."

  "I'm sorry for your loss," Karen said, "but we need to be somewhere."

  Both women turned to walk away, but were stopped in their tracks when a voice blurted out, "Wait a minute. I know you."

  Karen looked round and could see one of the boys with a smile on his face, pointing at her. She assumed correctly that it was he that had spoken when her back was turned. He looked fifteen, covered in acne, and didn't seem a threat at all, even with the hammer in his hand. He stated, "You're Staff Nurse Bradley."

  Confused, Karen asked, "And you are?"

  "David Watkins." He held out his hand, but she never shook it.

  Blushing, he pulled his hand away and stammered, "You cared for my dad six months ago, before he died. Simon Watkins. He was in for an operation. Died a few days later."

  "MRSA." She nodded. She remembered him.

  "You seemed different back then."

  "I had less blood on me." Karen said with a straight face, and added, "I don't think I was carrying a machete either."

  "No, I meant...you seem a lot different now, you seem darker."

  "Aren't we all now?"

  "Anyway." He lowered his head bashfully, realising he was still blushing. "Me and my mum never forgot about you. Thanks for everything."

  "I was just doing my job."

  "So are you girls from the Sandy Lane camp?" The leader asked, while David took a step back.

  Both shook their heads. "We're...moving on," Shaz spoke, revealing very little. She didn't want to invite a bunch of people without Vince's permission. Maybe they would come back for them later.

  The leader, who still hadn't introduced himself, said, "I remember them swarming around the garden on the Sunday morning. We never had the TV on, so we didn't know what they were. My mum was the first to go, then my dad ran out with a knife and was ripped apart, right in front of my eyes. Then us lot was on Facebook and met here, and—"

  "Look, son," Karen interjected. "We've all got horror stories that'll curl your pubes, but we really need to go. Good luck with...living and stuff."

  Shaz and Karen walked away and left the boys. Their walk was peaceful. Unlike the old world, there wasn't a person in sight up ahead, not a single groan of a vehicle's engine, and not even the sound of a dog barking.

  Their walk continued for another two minutes. The two young women looked up ahead and could see an abandoned car. Shaz looked at Karen to see if she wanted to check it out.

  As if she could read Shaz's face, Karen moaned, "I suppose we have to pass it anyway." Karen pulled out her machete, preparing for the unexpected.

  As they gained closer they could see the back of the car more clearly and that the car was a red Ford. All windows were up, and covered in so much blood it was hard to see in at the side windows. Karen stepped to the front of the car and could see the front had severe damage, indicating to her that it had hit something, and that was probably the reason for it stopping.

  She placed both palms of her hands on the bonnet and leaned over to get a better look through the windscreen. She could see one person, or thing, moving in the back.

  Shaz was standing behind Karen and said, "Nothing for us here. Shall we go?"

  Karen walked around the side of the car and put her left hand on the handle of the passenger door, her machete in her right, and before she pulled the door open, Shaz reminded her, "Remember what we said about taking a step back?"

  "I know." Karen's face was apologetic, telling Shaz that she had already made her mind up that she was opening the door. "I think there's a child-Snatcher in there. It'd be wrong to leave it."

  "It's dead. Start thinking about the one in there. The one that's living." Shaz pointed at Karen's stomach. Karen never responded, so Shaz yelled, "Wait! I'll do it. You stand over there." She pointed at the front of the car.

  Shaz opened the passenger door with little hesitancy and almost threw up with the smell. She took a deep breath in, and held it as she took a look inside. There was a child inside, maybe five years old, and it looked like it had been abandoned for whatever reason. The child was dressed in white shorts and a Batman T-shirt, now heavily blood-stained, and its face was ashen and it snarled and gnashed at Shaz as it struggled to get out of the car. She took out her machete, and Karen looked away as Shaz put the thing out of its misery.

  Karen remained where she was, eyes away from the scene, and Shaz tapped her on the shoulder. She was ready to go.

  Both women walked along the main road. Karen took a peek to her right to see Shaz's face filled with sadness, tears in her eyes, and two specks of dark blood on the side of her cheek. Karen placed her arm around Shaz and both women comforted one another.

  Chapter Forty Nine

  His feet dragged so much that he was convinced he was going to fall down and never get back up again. His panting and sweating increased the further he ran, and he finally stopped running once he got to a field. He now had a road to go up and was dreading the climb.

  Harry Branston bent over and put the palms of his hands on his knees, panting hard. Just looking at the hill made his knees buckle, and he wasn't too sure how much more he could take.

  With his legs aching he decided to jog up to the peak of the road. He knew that the camp wasn't far away now, and had driven on this road before many years ago. His feet pounded the tarmac and it felt like he was going nowhere fast, like his legs were running through a stream. As he reached the top he cried out and fell to the floor. He had never ran so much in his life, and fighting with the beasts in the woods did nothing but deplete his energy.

  He lay in the middle of the road, staring at the light blue sky, and allowed his body to get its breath back. He continued to gaze to the heavens, and watched as a lone cloud skated across and finally disappeared from his vision.

  Snapping out of his hypnotic glare, he shook his head and quickly sat up. He reprimanded himself under his breath for his lapse of concentration, and knew that he was only a couple of miles away from the camp.

  "Come on, Harry," he panted. "God gave you another chance, don't blow it."

  Pickle was referring to being released by the two officers, Janine Perry and Jamie Thomson. Even though those two individuals were responsible for his and many other inmates' release, he was certain that God must have had some kind of influence on that situation. He knew what Karen would have said. She'd question that if it was God's doing, why were the other prisoners in the other houseblock left to starve to death. He smiled at her glass is half empty attitude and couldn't wait to see her again.

  He looked down the road and a slow smile emerged on his features when he could see that it was literally downhill, and once he was at the bottom there was a field he could
cut across.

  His legs began the decline, and his body shook as the momentum was speeding his legs up. He looked to his right, as he reached the bottom, and saw the grassland. He climbed over the wooden fence and stumbled along the field. To his left, he could see The Ash Tree pub in the distance, and knew that once he was on the main road he was nearly there. He looked to the right and saw a long line of bushes. He was sure that behind the bushes was a small wood and a farm, but could not see it when he was climbing the road.

  He looked up and winced at the burning sun. "Give me strength."

  *

  He turned the ignition and sighed once his eyes saw that the tank was almost on the red. "I told these pricks to fill it up." Vince slammed the palm of his hand against the wheel and took the parking brake off. "Honestly, some of these guys are about as useful as an ejector seat on a helicopter."

  Vince's passenger, Jack Slade, was in no mood for Vince's jokes. He was worried for both girls, and he had a blinding headache.

  "What are we gonna do when we get there?" asked Jack.

  "What do you mean?" Vince pulled away from the barrier and checked in his rear-view mirror to see the HGV being reversed back to its original position. It used to be Claire that moved the HGV for vehicles leaving and arriving. God, he missed that girl.

  "I mean, what is the actual protocol?" Jack queried.

  "Protocol?" Vince laughed and slapped Jack on his thigh. "Have you been reading that thesaurus in the bedroom, Jackie Boy? When we get to the pub we'll see if there's any sign of the girls, and if there isn't, we go back. Simples."

  Jack never responded to the driver's comment, and didn't speak to Vince for a few seconds before asking, "And there's definitely no chance of looking for them in town, with more of us?"

  "And lose more people just because we were looking for another two?" Vince had now taken on a more serious tone. "Do the maths, Jack. If I have to break any more bad news to the residents, they'll demote me to dishwasher. There's been enough deaths for one week."

  The truck pulled up by the pub on the right after the half-mile drive, and Jack told Vince he was going to take a step outside to see if he can get a better look. The truth was that he wanted some fresh air, and thought that there could be a danger of throwing up again. Throwing up on Vince was bad enough, but twice would have been testing his patience to the extreme.

  Jack stood in front of the truck, and could see down the main road that it appeared to be clear. He could hear Vince turning the engine off, and thought that maybe he was going to join him on getting some air, but he was wrong. Jack turned around to see Vince sitting in the driver's seat, staring into nothingness. Jack was certain that most of Vince's bravado was false, and wondered what was going through his mind.

  Jack took in a few gulps of air and surprisingly felt a little better, despite the headache. At least the nausea had gone away. As he usually did, he began to think about what had happened over the last four weeks. At one stage, after he had lost Thomas and was alone in the woods, he thought that he was losing it. He very nearly did lose his mind, but something had pulled him back to the real—or surreal—world. Maybe Jack was a lot stronger than he gave himself credit for.

  There must have been a few men and women out there, survivors, who had gone crazy. When he thought about Slick, and his sister, he thought that maybe they were normal, hard-working citizens, who used to have a family.

  He laughed and shook his head.

  Maybe not.

  Maybe they were always bad, but since the rules of society had gone up in flames it gave them a license to cause havoc. He had no idea of what some people were like before the virus had happened.

  He thought about Karen. Here was a nurse, with a normal life and fiancé. Now, she wouldn't even flinch if she had to take out a beast with a machete. And this was only week four! It was insane how people had to adapt, and those that didn't...

  Jack turned on his heels and headed back to the truck. He sat on the seat and slammed the door shut, leaving the window down.

  "Feeling better?" Vince asked.

  "A little."

  "You know what you need, don't you?"

  Jack shook his head, certain that Vince was having fun with him because he was in a fragile state.

  "You need a nice runny egg, served on pile of cow shit."

  Jack looked at the driver, confusion aplenty on his face. "I don't get you. I threw up on you, and you go mad. Now you're trying to make me feel sick again. What's that all about?"

  Vince shrugged and said with a serious tone to his voice, "Just trying to pass the time, that's all."

  Jack blew out some breath and couldn't work Vince out. He had never met anyone like him before. "I hope they're okay." Jack looked longingly down the barren road.

  "So do I." Vince nodded. "There ain't much to look at in the camp. It'd be good to have a bit of talent walking around the place."

  Jack laughed and gawped at Vince. "They're hardly gonna want to sleep with someone like you. Karen's old enough to be your daughter, and she's gorgeous...and pregnant."

  "A proper little confidence booster, aren't you?" Vince had lightened up and Jack could see he was full of mischief again. "Anyway, pregnant women can have sex, you know."

  "I'm just saying," Jack spoke defensively.

  "She is hot." Vince now had a daft smile on his face, as if he was concocting all kinds of sexual imagery in his head. "I wouldn't kick Shaz out of bed for pissing on the sheets either. I'm no weather man, but she'll be getting more than a few inches this week, if she plays her cards right."

  Jack ignored him. He knew Vince was trying to get a reaction out of him. Jack stretched and pretended to yawn to make Vince think that his silly comments were not bothering him, but Vince could see straight through Jack.

  In his mind, Vince wasn't being evil. He was bored, and he was having a little fun.

  "Maybe you should stick to working on Karen." Jack said with gritted teeth.

  Vince smiled, knowing that he had touched a nerve. "Maybe you're right. Karen's some girl. As long as I have a face, she'll have a place to sit."

  Jack dropped his head in his hands and tried to stifle a laugh that was dying to be released. He was unsure whether Vince was trying to be funny, or that he was so deluded that he thought he had a chance with a woman more than half his age.

  "Let's go back." Vince started up the truck.

  "Now?"

  "We'll come back in half an hour. Maybe they'll be a sign of them then." Vince slipped the truck into first and did a slow U-turn in the road. "Besides, I need to release the chocolate hostages."

  "What?"

  "I need a shit, Jack."

  Chapter Fifty

  Karen and Shaz were near The Ash Tree pub; to their right was the last street of Brereton. It was a newly-built place where middle-class people lived, and had only been built fifteen years ago.

  "I've always wanted to live here," Shaz announced.

  "It's nice," said Karen.

  "You used to live at Draycott Park, on the other side of town. That's a really nice area, especially for a young chick like you."

  "I know." Karen began inspecting her nostril with her forefinger. "Not bad for a twenty-three-year-old."

  The banal small-talk had come to an abrupt end when a pair of screams widened the girls' eyes and increased their heartbeats.

  Shaz gasped, "What's that?"

  Shaz and Karen stopped walking.

  At the right side of the main road was a cul-de-sac, and this was where the girls could hear the shrieks of terror. But it wasn't shrieks belonging to adults; it sounded like it was coming from two female children.

  Both women drew their weapons and jogged into the street and turned right into the cul-de-sac, not knowing what was going to greet them. Two creatures were at the end of the road while the two young girls ran to the end of the street, towards Shaz and Karen. Their screams intensified once their young eyes clocked Shaz and Karen and had initially though
t that they were also members of the dead.

  Both women told them that they weren't creatures, and begged them to come with them. The two young girls, both blonde and both younger than eleven, went with them. They looked like sisters as they were similar in appearance, but one looked slightly younger.

  All four ran back to the main road and turned right. Before Karen had a chance to ask the frightened girls where they lived, what had happened to their parents, and what were their names, Shaz yelled out, "Jesus! Give us a break!"

  From the Ash Tree car park, they could see an assortment of dead beasts lumbering out onto the main road. Men, women and children of all ages headed towards the four of them

  "Where do they come from?" Shaz stared at the eleven ghouls.

  "I don't know, but I don't think the screams helped." Karen looked at the two frightened girls, both were shivering with fear. "Whatever happens, you girls stay behind us."

  Both nodded, and the youngest one tugged on Shaz's shirt and pointed. Both women looked in the direction where she was pointing and could see that there was another seven behind them, and the two ghouls from the cul-de-sac were making their way to the main road as well.

  "I'm scared," the eldest of the girls sobbed.

  "Look, what's your name?" asked Karen.

  "Mandy," she pointed to the younger girl. "This is my sister, Heather. My mum and dad were attacked—"

  "I'm sorry, we don't have time for a story. Mandy and Heather, you stay behind us; we're gonna get past these things up ahead and go to a place we know that's safe."

  The girls nodded, tears streaming down their cheeks. Karen beckoned Shaz next to her and whispered, "Try not to get any blood in your eyes."

  Shaz and Karen drew their weapons back and headed closer towards the eleven by the car park, moving further away from the others behind. There were two Snatchers in front of the other nine, both were heavy-looking things, and the girls were unsure whether it was due to obesity in their human life or the gasses produced once they were dead. The two members, of the group of eleven, then galloped a little faster than Shaz and Karen thought was possible.

 

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