Vince opened the window, and took a look behind him, looking at the horrific carnage once more. He wiped his damp eyes, and climbed through the window.
He walked with tired feet and headed towards the two men and waved at them once they spotted him.
“Where have you been, chap?” Stephen called over.
Vince never answered and took off the rucksack once he reached the vehicle, opened the driver’s side, and threw the bag in.
“You okay?” Craig noticed that Vince was red around the eyes.
“Never mind that,” Vince spoke up. “Let’s get out of this fucking place.”
Chapter Twenty
It had taken just under ten minutes for David MacDonald to stop crying. He wiped the tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands and then the teenager made a decision to walk to the storeroom for a bottle of water. He was parched and his throat was dry.
Clutching onto his aching stomach, David stood up and Ronnie’s pal, John Collins, turned up. He stood in the doorway and could see David was in pain. He knew Ronnie had got to him and felt pity for the youngster. He didn’t want this for David MacDonald.
“No, no, no!” David cried. His eyes clocked John and he feared the worst. He feared more attacks and raised his hand at John. “No more, please.”
John remained where he was and held his hands up to David, telling him it was okay and that he wasn’t going to hurt him. He kept on saying this and tried to reassure the frightened youngster that he wasn’t there to do him harm. He was simply passing by.
John stepped inside, but he did it slowly as if he was approaching a snake, and once he was close enough he inspected David. He looked fine; he was fully clothed, but John guessed correctly that Ronnie had been clever and had beaten David around the midriff and purposely never touched the face.
John pointed at David’s middle and asked, “Did he get you there?”
David nodded and said, “As well as other places.”
“Idiot!” John snapped. “He’s a fucking idiot. He’s gonna end up getting thrown out. Well, I’m not going with him. I’ll probably get the blame for this as well, because we’re friends … or used to be.”
It appeared that John wasn’t concerned with David’s predicament or bothered about what was going to happen to his friend. He was more concerned about what was going to happen to him.
“When did this happen?” he asked David.
“Not long ago,” David said, his face wincing with discomfort.
“If you decide to come forward, you’ll have to tell Drake the truth, and that I wasn’t involved with this,” John said, almost begging. “You’ll have to. I’m not going back out there. What an idiot. Drake told us to keep away from you.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“It’s my word against his,” David said. “Nothing can be proved. Ronnie could turn around and say: why would I beat him up straight after being told by Drake that I should keep away from him?”
“Ronnie’s my pal, but I’m not going back out there. No way.”
David nodded and said, “I think I will tell the truth ... if it gets worse. But for the time being you have to do me a favour.”
“What is it?”
“You need to talk to him,” David almost begged. “Ronnie won’t stop here.”
“He will. I’ll make sure of it.”
“No, he won’t. He hates me. He hates all the Colwyn people.”
“I’ll have a word with him.” John could see the terror in David’s eyes and felt terrible for being a part of the bullying he had received over the last couple of days, but Ronnie had taken it too far. It was Ronnie’s word against David’s, but if Drake believed David, Ronnie would be in serious trouble.
David wasn’t so sure that ‘having a word’ with Ronnie would help matters, but he had to try something.
Ronnie was clever. He had beaten David and made sure there were no witnesses. For all Drake knew, David could have done this to himself and blamed Ronnie for what happened. His next beating was going to be the same. It’d be when David was on his own, and David feared that it could get worse. Maybe he should carry a knife with him for protection. Unlike Colwyn Place in the beginning, Drake allowed people to carry weapons as the fear of attack by outsiders hung over the camp.
“I just...” David could feel his throat tightening. “I just feel that this is just the start of it. I fear he might kill me one day. I might have to leave.”
John didn’t believe for a second that David MacDonald would leave the place and go out there alone, but still asked him, “Where would you go?”
“Somewhere safer than this. Somewhere secure, where no one would even think or dare to go.”
John remained silent and never asked where the teenager was thinking about going. He thought it was just a knee jerk reaction to the beating he had received. Ronnie aside, this was a good place to be for David MacDonald, considering what was happening.
“Like I said before,” John said. “Let me have a word with him. Don’t do anything rash.”
“How can I trust you?”
John could understand why David was sceptical. He was a part of the problem, or he used to be, and now he was trying to smooth things between the pair of them.
“Look,” John tried to explain. “I wasn’t, and still not, a fan of your lot, but we all came from somewhere. It’s just...”
John didn’t need to explain. David knew what was going to be said. It was the same old story of:
Your guys killed some of ours.
Yes, but it was you lot that attacked US.
“Just let me do this,” John said. “Okay?”
David hunched his shoulders. He was certain it was going to be a waste of time talking sense to Ronnie, but what would be the harm?
John walked away, leaving David on his own. The youngster sat on his bed and could hear John’s footsteps getting faint as he walked away.
More footsteps could be heard, from the left, and then the individual responsible for them walked by and smiled as she looked into the room. Patricia Johnson said hello to the youngster before walking away, and was carrying a bag of wet bedsheets.
More footsteps were heard and David decided to have a lie down and maybe have a nap. He closed his eyes and took in an intake of breath. The stress and trauma had exhausted the young man and he couldn’t wait for Pickle, Karen and Vince to get back. He wasn’t so close to Craig and Stephen, but he missed the other three when they weren’t at the hospital. Even more so now.
He listened as the footsteps got closer and opened his eyes once they stopped. David gasped and sat up quickly when he saw Ronnie standing in the doorway.
“Alright, Dave?” He began to chuckle.
David MacDonald never responded. He just shook with fright.
“Heard you ran into a bit of bother earlier. Shame about that.”
David continued to remain silent and this response seemed to have annoyed the eighteen-year-old bully.
“I saw John and Patricia go into the building earlier.”
“So?” At last there was a response from the youngster.
“So ... you better not be telling any tales, especially to Drake,” Ronnie snarled and then pulled up his shirt to reveal the handle of a knife. “Or I’ll be stabbing fuck out of you.”
“Leave me alone,” David cried.
“Just keep your mouth shut. Okay?”
There was no response from the fourteen-year-old, angering his aggressor.
“I said … okay?” Ronnie snarled.
David nodded.
“Good. I haven’t finished with you yet, but so long as you don’t grass they’ll be no need to use my blade.”
He walked away, leaving David perplexed. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’ What did that mean? Was David’s beating earlier just the beginning? If not, what else did he mean by his comment.
A horrible thought scurried along David’s mind about what Ronnie had said to him. He w
asn’t talking about rape, was he? Surely not.
David reprimanded himself and decided to calm down. He was getting worked up about something that may not happen and his anxiousness was snowballing. Then he had a thought. Maybe he should carry a blade himself for Ronnie’s next visit.
But what if you come off second best and end up getting wounded or worse? Even if you kill or wound Ronnie, you’d be thrown out of the place. Out there, on your own would be a death sentence. And Pickle and co wouldn’t give up this plush place to be back out there because of a feral fourteen-year-old. Maybe Stephanie would, but you wouldn't want to do that to her. She’s been through enough.
David lowered his head and thought about his safety without putting others in danger. He had an idea. It was bold, and he had heard stories about the place by Pickle, but he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.
Being stabbed by Ronnie, or stabbing Ronnie himself would result in dire consequences for him and he would be putting the people he liked in an awkward position.
He needed to sort this out himself.
He needed to go.
Chapter Twenty-One
“One more mile to go,” Vince announced, slipping the vehicle into fifth. “Not a bad day outing. Managed to grab a few things, and not just medical stuff.”
“Yip.” Craig chuckled. “I think Drake will be pleased when he sees what we’ve got.”
“I think my highlight of the trip was Stephen trapped in that freezer.”
“Not funny, chap.” Stephen grunted and twisted his neck. “I thought I was a goner. I thought you two had buggered off and left me.”
“We would never do that, Stephen,” Vince said with an unusual serious tone. “You’re a hardcore member of our group now.”
“Do you think?” Stephen smiled and seemed to have perked up within seconds. “Cheers, chap.”
“You, Craigy Boy here, Pickle and Karen ... you guys are my favourites. And Steph, of course.”
“What about Joanne?”
“I like Joanne,” said Vince. “But I don’t actually know her that well. She doesn’t do runs, or anything like that. I think she’s happy to be alive, and will do anything to continue to do so.”
“What do you mean?” It was rare for Vince to be negative about people he knew, and Stephen was surprised by his comment.
“For example,” Vince began. “If Pickle and Karen decided to leave and go back to Colwyn, we’d all go, right?”
Stephen and Craig nodded.
“I don’t think she would, even though she lived there before it all blew up. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I’ve never heard you say a bad word about Joanne before,” Stephen remarked. “But I know her better than you, and I think you’re right, chap. Although she told me that she’s thinking about going back because she misses her home.”
“I’m not bad mouthing her.” Vince brought the vehicle to third gear as they approached a roundabout. “I think she’s a lovely person, but she’s a bit selfish. She looks after number one. Anyway, she’d still get it, if she pleaded and begged me.”
“I thought you liked Patricia,” said Stephen.
“Vince will take anything,” Craig joked.
“Of course,” Vince laughed and pointed at his face. “With this fucked up situation and there being very few females about, you have to take what you can get. When you’re as ugly as me, you need to use charm and wear them down.”
“What do you mean, chap?”
“There are only three things women need in life: food, water, and compliments. You need to woo them and make them fall for your personality.”
“Okay.” Stephen nodded with a straight face.
“Life is like a penis: women make it hard for no reason, but you can’t live without them. Unless you’re gay.”
“A woman once said to me that most men become stupid when talking to an attractive woman.”
“That’s right, Stephen.” Vince nodded in agreement. “Us men are a pathetic species. Scientists believe that the primary biological function of breasts is to make men stupid.”
“My relationship with women is pretty limited,” Stephen admitted.
“You surprise me,” Vince said with a smirk. “I thought you was nicknamed Mad Shagger back in the day.”
“Very funny, Vince.” Stephen giggled along with Craig, even though he was the butt of his mocking.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Women are like tornadoes, or at least they used to be.”
“You mean ruthless and windy?” Craig questioned Vince.
“No.” Vince shook his head. “They moan like hell when they come, and take your belongings when they leave.”
“Even if I had the courage to approach a woman,” Stephen began. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Not only that, I haven’t been ... well ... physical with a female for a while.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Craig said. “My wife and kids passed a few months ago, so it’s the last thing on my mind. It’s not the most important thing, especially now.”
“And I lost Rosemary,” Vince announced. “She wasn’t really someone I loved, just a lover. A nice woman, though.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” Stephen admitted and twisted his neck. “It’s all about surviving now. But back in the day, my pal used to mock me for my lack of action with the opposite sex. I felt quite shameful.”
“Don’t be daft,” Craig intervened and could see that Stephen looked crestfallen. “Hardly a crime, is it? Anyway, you’re still breathing, so you’ve had the last laugh.”
“Yeah.” Stephen nodded and added, “He’s probably dead now. I still think about the things he used to say, though.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a pal to me,” said Craig. “And not being with a woman for a good while is hardly the ultimate shame.”
“Thanks.” Stephen smiled.
“Agreed.” This time it was Vince’s turn to speak up, and all three could see Stafford Hospital up ahead. “Craig’s right. Not being with a woman for a good while isn’t a man’s ultimate shame. A man’s ultimate shame is when he runs into a wall with a hard-on and grabs his nose first.”
Vince slowed down and stopped as he was near the gate. The guard on the gate was Findlay, a man Vince wasn’t that keen on. In truth, he was a little jealous of Findlay. He was an attractive man and wasted no time trying to chat up Karen and Joanne when they arrived from Colwyn Place.
Findlay nodded at the three inside the van and opened the gate.
Vince pulled in and wound his window down.
“Did we miss anything, Finners?” Vince asked.
“Fuck all,” was his blunt response. He looked round the side of the van and asked, “Get some goodies?”
“A few things,” Vince laughed. “Couldn’t get those packet of Trojans you asked for, though. Or the butt plugs.”
“Very funny.” Findlay then signalled with his thumb for Vince to pull the van in and park up.
He pulled in and parked outside the reception area where Drake was waiting for him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Drake was happy with the vanload of supplies, and Vince decided to stand outside and get some air whilst Stephen and Craig went back to their quarters for a lie down. Drake and Vince were in no rush to empty the van and stood chatting. Just under ten minutes later and the red pickup, driven by Pickle, returned and parked up.
Drake and Vince made their way over and looked into the back, then they greeted their campmates Karen and Pickle as they exited the vehicle.
“Is that all you got?” Vince laughed. “Hardly worth the petrol.”
“That’s great. Don’t you listen to him.” Drake patted Pickle on the side of the arm and then peered into the back to get a better look.
“We stopped listening to him months ago.” Karen smiled and Vince childishly gave her the finger.
“The seeds will come in handy for the winter.” Drake folded his arms and looked genuinely pleased. “I p
romise, the next time we have to go out for a big run I’ll come with you. Don’t want you to think I’m the kind of cunt that sits about and dishes out orders while everybody else does the work.”
“That’s exactly what we think,” Karen said teasingly. “What else do you do, apart from drink coffee and order people about?”
Drake looked astounded by her cheeky remark and looked at Pickle with his wide eyes. Pickle stood at the side with a wide smile under his nose.
“Don’t look at me.” Pickle held both hands up as if he had a gun pointing at him. “I have no control o’er her. I’ve tried, but it’s impossible.”
“You know if one of my guys ever spoke to me like that...”
“You’d kick them to death?” Karen held out her hands. “Like to see you try, Drakey Boy.”
There was a stare off between the two of them for a couple of seconds and Drake burst out laughing and shook his head. Vince narrowed his eyes and could see that there wasn’t just a mutual respect between the pair of them, but an attraction as well.
Drake looked to the side and saw eighteen-year-old John Collins walking by.
“Oí!” Drake yelled at the young man. “Hope you’re not skiving.”
John never answered the man; he speeded up and looked to be heading to the area where they kept their vehicles.
Stephanie Perkins then emerged from the reception area and stepped outside with a worried look on her face. She went over to Karen and Pickle and asked if they had seen David.
“No,” Pickle answered. “Why, what’s up?”
She said, “I can’t find him on his ward.”
“Maybe he’s gone for a walk around the grounds.” Drake tried to appease the stressed teenager. “It’s a big old place, but you can still get cabin fever if you’re stuck indoors for a while, especially if you’re bored.”
“No, he’s not here.” She looked adamant and ran her hand over her blonde hair. “He’s gone. I know he is.”
“Gone?” Drake shook his head. “He would have been seen by one of my guards and it would have been reported.”
“Seen by one of your guards?” Stephanie's voice was mocking. “You mean the guys that stand by the wall, who are bored to tears and spend their day yawning their heads off?”
Snatchers (Book 13): The Dead Don't Fear Page 8
