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

by Shaun Whittington

  Bentley raised his hand at Paul, gesturing him to keep well back, something Paul didn't have a problem with, and took a peek inside the room. It took a while, but once his senses were assaulted by the smell of death in the room, Bentley pulled his T-shirt up over his nose and continued to gape in the staff room with his gun pointed.

  The place was basic, and had a table and chairs, a sink, a kettle, microwave, and a coffee machine. There were two ghouls that were still able to move. Both were dressed in the same uniform, which suggested that they used to work in the place. One was a female that had her back to Bentley, facing the wall. Another was male, on the floor, and was slowly crawling its way across the linoleum to get to Bentley once the man had been clocked by its milky eyes. Its legs were intact, but it looked as if it had somehow fallen and couldn't remember how to get back to its feet.

  Bentley noticed that on the right hand side of the wall lay a body that seemed to have been torn apart. The head had been removed and the stomach seemed to have been the main target, with entrails scattered over the floor like thick spaghetti.

  Bentley told Paul to stand next to him, and he did what he was told, although apprehensively. Paul nearly retched when the smell of death hit him. Bentley then placed his arm around Paul's shoulder and whistled at the female ghoul that had its back to them, like an individual would beckon a dog. It slowly turned around to reveal its hideous features and Bentley asked, "Is that your wife?"

  Paul gulped and shook his head. "No. Thank God."

  "Good," sniffed Bentley, and pointed at the remains in the corner of the room. "So that means those leftovers don't belong to your little girl."

  Paul turned away to vomit over the balcony; the puke hit the ground floor with a loud splat, and Bentley had now aimed the Glock and prepared it to fire. Paul jumped in fright when Bentley put one round into the head of the crawler, surprisingly making little mess, and he waited a few seconds for the female ghoul to get nearer before putting it out of its misery with a single bullet to the middle of its forehead.

  Bentley then shut the door and asked Paul if he was okay. Paul nodded unconvincingly, still looking pale, and both men made their way to the clothes department. "Get some bags and fill them." ordered Bentley. "We'll take them back to the car and then we can go back in and start filling a trolley each with whatever food's left. We'll check the car park for your family before we leave."

  Paul didn't respond to Bentley's instruction. He just followed his lead in silence.

  Once clothes, for both men and for Laura and Kyle, had been stashed in the backseat of Paul's car, they returned to the supermarket with Paul still peering around, searching for Julie's Renault.

  Noticing this, Bentley said, "We'll have a look before we leave, but I reckon she's somewhere else, a friend's maybe."

  "She couldn't leave Kyle."

  "True." Bentley was trying his best to put some positive light on the topic. "But it depends on how bad it was here during the first days. The road back to your house could have been impossible to drive on with these freaks about. And your wife wouldn't want to put your little girl in any unnecessary danger."

  Paul rubbed his hands over his face, exasperation taking its toll. "I don't know what to think. There're too many scenarios that could have happened."

  "Okay," Bentley stopped walking, gawped at the man next to him, and placed each palm of his hand on Paul's shoulders. "If you were Julie, where would you go if you saw people turning on one another?"

  It took a while for Paul to give Bentley an answer. "At first...I'd stay in the supermarket, or hide in the car."

  "And after a couple of days, weeks, once the worst of it was over?"

  Paul shrugged his shoulders, and was already tiring of these pointless questions. "Back to my house."

  "And if it was too dangerous to go to yours?"

  Paul sighed, "Is there actually a point to all of this?"

  "Just answer the question."

  "Then I'd go to a friend's...or...somewhere." Paul was unsure, and then said with widened eyes, "I lost contact with my parents after three days, but maybe Julie stayed here for that length of time, then went to my mum's, in desperation."

  "Now you're thinking." Bentley snapped his fingers. "They may have stayed here, or somewhere else, for a while. Maybe stocked the car up with food, slept in the car, and finally decided to go somewhere familiar once the carnage had died down. But you can try your mum's later, when you're fresh."

  Paul nodded, and a smile almost broke out over his face. "You're right. There're so many things that could have happened. My street was a mess in the first week. There's no way Julie would have returned to the house if she turned into our street and saw what was going on." Although Paul felt a little more positive now, there was still the possibility that his wife and daughter were also dead.

  "If I can steal myself a vehicle, I could come with you to your mum's. That's if you want." Bentley was doing his best to keep Paul in a positive mood. "And if Julie's there, I can make my own way back, safely."

  "Thanks." Paul was beginning to feel a little emotional. "But you've done enough already. Even if she's not there, me and Kyle will stay with my mum until things get better."

  "Whatever." Bentley decided not to question Paul and inform him that his mother could also be dead. He then looked ahead and pointed at the line of trolleys. "Just the tins. Any fruit or meat that's left will be rotten anyway."

  They both grabbed a trolley each and both walked back inside.

  Paul finally got a crowbar from the hardware section and was now in the sports section with Bentley, grabbing MRPs and protein bars. They then placed their T-shirts over their noses as they passed the fruit section, most of the stuff that was left was rotten, and filled their trolleys within minutes. They walked past the alcohol aisle that looked like it had already been raided with roughly only a fifth of the products left. Bentley turned to Paul and said, "It's tempting, but we need to keep our wits about us at all times."

  Paul nodded in agreement, and the thought of consuming alcohol had never crossed his mind anyway.

  Once both trolleys were full from the almost-empty shelves of the supermarket, with tins of fruit, tuna, beans and soup, as well as MRPs, protein bars, bottled water and two more gas canisters, it was time to move.

  Everything was going so fast that Paul's head was beginning to pound. His thoughts went to Daisy and the way she was killed. And where did those bastards take her daughter who was thrown into the back of the van like she was nothing? Thinking back was beginning to affect Paul and he jumped when he heard Bentley shout, "Paul! Stay with me!"

  "What?"

  Bentley shook his head disapprovingly, almost with anger in his face. "You were miles away. Keep focused."

  Bentley was right, and Paul accepted his reprimand. One slip of concentration could determine whether Kyle would still have a father by the end of the week.

  They stepped out of the supermarket, both pushing a heavy trolley each, and headed for Paul's Mazda. Once the car was loaded up, Paul kept a hold of the crowbar and they both noticed four ghouls shambling in the far distance. Bentley pointed over to a jeep and told Paul he was going to try and hotwire the vehicle.

  Paul had no idea of Bentley's background. He owned a Glock, and knew how to hotwire a car. Could a car be hotwired these days, now that new models were more advanced? He decided to let Bentley get on with it. However dark or illegal Bentley's past antics had been, Paul felt he and Laura were a nice couple and knew that he and Kyle owed them, Bentley especially.

  It appeared that Bentley was struggling to get into the jeep with the screwdriver that he had, let alone hotwire the thing, and Paul guessed that stealing cars wasn't Bentley's speciality. Jack Bauer made it look so much easier.

  Paul walked over to Bentley to see how he was getting on, but then suddenly clocked the colour of a car that was the same colour as Julie's.

  He could only see a few inches of the front, as it was parked next to a larg
e Subaru jeep, and, almost magnetically, he began walking towards the car, very slowly. He clocked the registration plate and his heart sped up to an unbelievable pace when he saw that it was Julie's car.

  With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, he felt sick, and slowly continued to walk the remaining twenty yards needed to get to the vehicle.

  "For fuck's sake!" Paul heard Bentley cuss, who was now in the jeep with the door open, but was struggling to get it started. "Fuck it! I can't do it."

  Ignoring Bentley, Paul continued with his slow stroll and after ten yards had been achieved he felt a slap on his shoulder, making him scream out. He turned around, almost striking Bentley with the crowbar in his right hand.

  "Jesus," snapped Paul. "You scared me half to death."

  "Where the fuck are you going?" Bentley looked dumbfounded that Paul was walking away. "I thought I told you to stay focused. This ain't time to go on any kind of walk, you know."

  Paul pointed at the Renault Clio and couldn't find the words.

  "Is that your wife's car?" asked Bentley, solemnly.

  Paul nodded; still no words.

  Bentley peered in from ten yards away, and couldn't see anybody from the distance he was at. "Shall we check it out together?"

  Paul shook his head and said, "I'll go alone."

  "Are you sure? It might not be safe."

  Ignoring Bentley's remark, Paul strolled the remaining ten yards needed to get to the side of the car, with Bentley hanging back, Glock at the ready. Paul could see that the windows of the car were stained red a little, and this scene alone had diluted any excitement he had and was now fearing the worst.

  Now he was at the car, it was clear that smeared blood on the inside of the windows was present, and he felt the huge lump in his throat almost strangle him, making it a struggle to breathe. His disbelieving eyes peered in to see Julie in the driver's seat of the car, but she wasn't Julie anymore. She was one of...them!

  "Oh shit. Oh God." Paul placed the palm of his hands against the passenger side of the window and saw the condition Julie was in. Her face was ashen; the left side of her neck had been bitten, and she was wearing the same clothes that she had on when she left the house over four weeks ago, suggesting she had been here all this time.

  Paul broke down and the tears streamed down his cheeks, his knees buckled and a sharp pain stretched across his chest.

  He yelped out when a head appeared from the passenger side. It didn't growl or snarl at him, it just stared blankly with its milky eyes. Paul placed his hand over his quivering lips, and then gently placed his hand on the window, as if he wanted to touch the face of the thing. "Bell," he sobbed. "Oh, Bell."

  He glared at his reanimated daughter. She looked awful, and suddenly his attention went away from his wife who was writhing in the seat and trying to crawl her way over to her husband to rip him apart. His full attention was on his deceased daughter, and he was desperate to touch her, to hold her, to tell her it was okay, and that daddy was here. But she was gone. She was dead. And this thing didn't recognise that Paul was daddy anymore, it just saw something that it could devour.

  The body that used have Bell's spirit was now possessed with something different and something more sinister. If she somehow managed to get out of the vehicle that she was trapped in, Paul would be attacked without a doubt. He knew that.

  How did this happen?

  One of them, if not both, must have been attacked and then Julie must have locked them both in the car. But why didn't she drive off?

  Because it was her that was bit first?

  It was the only explanation. She must have passed out, reanimated inside the car while Bell was screaming and confused, then was attacked by her own mother. It was the only thing that made sense.

  Paul fell to his knees, and sobbed so hard he thought his heart was going to break in two. For a moment he didn't care if it did, then he thought of Kyle. His sweet little boy.

  He needed to live.

  He needed to live for him.

  What was he going to tell him?

  How was he going to tell him?

  Bentley gently placed his hand on Paul's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Paul. I know this is a terrible time, but we've really gotta go."

  Paul turned around and saw through blurry eyes a few ghouls scattered across the left side of the car park, stumbling towards them.

  "Fuck knows where they crawled out from," Bentley added.

  Paul turned back to the car and said, "I can't leave them like this."

  "Get in your car." Bentley lifted his Glock and said, "We really have to go...now."

  "No, I-I-I can't."

  Bentley glared at Paul, and snarled, "We need to move. I know this is tough—"

  "But I can't leave them in there, not like that." Paul cried.

  Bentley agreed and took a gander at his handgun. "I agree. They deserve better than that." Bentley pulled out the screwdriver from his pocket.

  Almost as if he knew what Bentley was thinking, and with time not on their side, Paul whispered, "Okay." He then turned his back on Bentley. "Make it quick."

  Although Paul had managed to walk over to the Mazda, he couldn't feel his legs. He felt he was floating, and slumped in the passenger seat and placed his hands over his ears to drown out the two gunshots that Bentley was about to release.

  He then thought of Kyle.

  His little heart was going to break once he was told the truth. He had to tell him. He couldn't allow him to linger on in hope that his mum and Bell would eventually return. Confident that Bentley had finished what he was doing, he removed his hands off of his ears.

  "God, I'm sorry," cried Paul, and was thinking about how Kyle was going to take the news. "I'm so sorry, big chap."

  Chapter Forty Two

  Pickle, Shaz, Karen and Vince began to jog their way to the exit of the hangar. They were fifty yards away when the ginger-haired-woman limped inside through the door, head down, scratching her hair. She was oblivious to the four individuals running towards her, but once the sound of feet slapping the concrete alerted her senses, she looked up. It took a few seconds for her brain to soak up what was happening, and once realisation had occurred she screamed out, "Gavin!"

  Vince took a shot with the gun he was holding. The woman fell to the floor, screaming, clutching her lower legs that had been ravaged by the pellets. Gavin burst into the hangar very briefly, took one look at the whole situation and ran back out while Pickle and Shaz squeezed their triggers, releasing both cartridges at him.

  "We missed him!" Pickle yelled. They were all out of ammo, and the guns were thrown to the floor.

  "Don't let him leave!" shouted Vince, and all four individuals jogged towards the exit.

  Gavin was outside and in a panic. He checked his back pocket to make sure his car keys were still there, and pulled them out. He had a thought. He quickly ran over to the shed and unlocked the padlock with one of the keys from his front pocket, then released the doors. He ran to his car as dozens of the dead spilled out into the July day.

  He jumped into a black Audi and left the place in a hurry, leaving his sister to her own devices. The car paused, Gavin ran out and pushed up the barrier. He looked behind him and saw the dead in the distance, shambling around the hangar with no idea where to go. "Those bastards are going to run into a little surprise," he sniggered, before getting back to the car. Once he sat in his seat, he thought of his sister. He was saddened that he had to leave her in the lurch, but he was alive and that was all that mattered.

  He was on the road for a few minutes when he saw the house in the distance. He pulled up by the house and knew he had one guard left, a man called Richard Bowden, who was having a rest in the house after his shift.

  Gavin let himself in and ran through the house, wondering why it was empty. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He punched a wall to his left. There was no guard.

  He knew they'd been here.

  He just knew it.

  He was unarmed and had no indiv
iduals for protection. He made a decision. He was going to stand by the bedroom window and peer out, just in case they somehow managed to escape from the dead. If they did, he'd have to flee.

  *

  David Watkins had tears in his eyes as he gazed at the hangar. He could see a man with dark features, and a woman with ginger hair standing outside.

  "Come on, Karen," he whispered to himself. "Where are you?"

  He then saw the ginger-haired woman limp back inside the hangar as if she had forgot something. What was going on? David scratched his head, and now feared for Karen. If anything happened to her what would he do? Try and walk back to the camp? Unarmed?

  "Come on, come on, come on."

  David then heard a noise, like a gunshot, then saw the dark-haired man run inside. The man had only been inside for a matter of seconds and suddenly ran back out. He then headed for the shed, appeared to have opened it, and then ran for a vehicle that was sitting a few yards at the side of the storage place.

  David could now see the dead dispersing around the hangar, while the majority hung around the main door, under the canopy. He then saw his companions, who appeared surprised and frightened that the dead were there, burst out the door. Their weapons were already drawn, and the massacre of some of the dead had begun.

  David watched in awe.

  *

  "Quickly!" yelled Vince.

  He was the first to burst through the door of the factory, and released a surprised yelp when he was surrounded by dozens of the dead. Shaz and Pickle followed, and all never hesitated as they hacked at the groaning beasts, dark gunk flying everywhere.

  Pickle front-kicked a few that were near and took the head off of one on the left. Shaz was stabbing at them at the skull area, and trying to get the weapon free after every kill was becoming a slow process. Vince was like a madman and was chopping at anything that came near him. Karen had now appeared and seemed shocked at first. It took her a while to react, but when she did she took two down before quickly announcing, "There're too many!"

  Remembering being in a similar position like this and how close he had come to his own demise only a few days ago, Pickle tugged on Shaz and Vince and told them to retreat and to follow him. Karen was the first to get back inside, and was speedily followed in by the other three.