He could feel his legs weakening and recognised that with little food and water in his system, especially for such a large man, he was going to weaken quickly. He needed to get back to the camp. He couldn't cope with another day out here. His knees buckled as he stumbled down a hole and fell to the floor. "Fuck."
He picked himself up and continued to stagger. The sweat poured down his back, soaking the hairs just above his backside, and the perspiration was also streaming out of his head with most of it being soaked up by his thick eyebrows and some of it stinging his eyes. His body couldn't cope with this much longer, he thought. Losing water from his body, but not putting any water back into his system was a recipe for disaster.
To the side of him he heard the snap of a branch, but as he scanned the area he couldn't see a soul in sight.
Another snap could be heard from behind, and he twisted his head round and gasped simultaneously. "Who's there?" he said.
There was no answer, and Bentley Drummle could feel his heart gallop to a higher rate than what he would have liked. He tried again. "Is there anybody there? I mean you no harm." He kept his gun tucked away...for now.
He gave up and continued to stumble along the path, now with a headache from hell. He rubbed at his temples, but knew it was a futile attempt to ease the smarting. It was water that he needed.
He took another look around and could see the whole area was completely clear. He decided to have a rest for a few minutes. He staggered over to a large tree and sat down against it. He wiped his brow with his forearm and took out Glen and rested it on his lap. He then leaned his head back and closed his eyes, aching for a stray breeze to cool his frame down, but it never came. His eyes remained closed until a rustle could be heard.
"Give me a break."
Bentley opened his eyes and could see a ghoul stumbling out of the plantation, opposite him. Huffing with anger, he got to his weary feet and shook his head in exasperation. He was too tired for this shit.
With little energy in him, he raised his gun and put it down with a single shot. The back of its head spat out dark blood as it fell to the floor in a heap. He knew it was a stupid thing to do, but he was exhausted. He moved away, once again, and told himself that he'd walk for another ten minutes and rest again. His throat was now so dry that it ached, and saliva was non-existent.
His walk was tiresome and after ten minutes there was still no sign of a road or the woods thinning out. There was no sound of water either, and Bentley was close to tears. He reached a more spacious part of the woods where the trees were less, and were so spaced out that he could see for hundreds of yards from all around. His legs were killing him, and he needed to rest them, even if it was for a few minutes.
Once more he sat down and rested his back against the tree trunk. His heavy eyes were stinging and he closed them once again. This time a stray breeze did caress his face and it felt glorious. The wind whispered into his ears and he smiled to himself until a crack could be heard.
Not again.
He opened his eyes and could see a figure standing ten yards in front of him, five-five in height, with the hood of the black waterproof poncho up, and shades covering the eyes. The shape was carrying a crowbar in its right hand, had a bag on its back, and the bow was sticking out from the individual's back, the string across their chest.
Despite the small frame it was a menacing sight to behold, and Bentley wasn't sure he was hallucinating due to dehydration. He licked his arid lips and said in a hoarse tone, "Hello."
"You look lost." The figure spoke up. It was a female voice, a young female voice.
"I am."
"Want to join me for dinner?" She used both hands to reach for the hood and slowly brought it down, then took off the shades.
Once she revealed her face, Bentley gasped and said, "Jesus. You're no older than fifteen."
"I'm fourteen." She held out her hand. "Come with me."
Chapter Twenty Seven
"I was once accused of stealing underwear from the neighbour's washing line, did you know that?" Vince Kindl was walking next to Sheryl and hadn't shut up for the last five minutes. He was beginning to get on Sheryl's nerves as the group continued with their walk in the woods.
"Is that right?" she said with gritted teeth.
"It is," Vince said. "When she came round and knocked on my door, I nearly shat her pants."
Lee shook his head and began to giggle to himself. "You still using your old jokes, Vince?"
"Old ones are the best."
Vince glared at Sheryl and could see that her face never cracked a smile. He added, "I went to a tampon convention a few months ago. I struggled to get tickets, but I managed to pull a few strings."
Sheryl sighed, "I'd give up now, if I were you."
Vince dropped back and walked beside Pickle, leaving Sheryl to walk alongside Lee James. "Well, she's a bundle of laughs. I even tried to use the old Kindl charm."
"Maybe that's where yer fucked up," cackled Pickle.
"We better find Bentley soon. Otherwise, this is gonna be a long day."
"I thought yer liked being away from the camp. Make yer mind up."
Vince nodded in Sheryl's direction and whispered, "It depends on the company."
Lee and Sheryl were strolling in front of Pickle, and Lee asked if she was okay. She had been through a lot in the last day or so.
"Yes, I am," Sheryl snapped. "I wish you'd stop asking me that."
"I'm just concerned, that's all." Lee stroked his dark thin beard and gave her an apologetic look that she didn't see.
"Well don't be."
Sheryl walked with her heavy boots and was wearing her green combats, and on this particular day had changed into a V-neck black T-shirt. Her hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days, but vanity was something that the twenty-nine-year-old never bothered with back in the old world before the day of reckoning, so she wasn't too bothered now about how she looked. She knew she was average-looking, she always had been, and despite having a figure to die for she rarely attracted men that she liked before the apocalypse.
"I'm fucking bored," Vince began to groan.
"God, is he always like this?" Sheryl huffed and glared at Lee for an answer. "He's like a child."
"No." Pickle spoke up from behind, beating Lee to it. "Sometimes he can be a real pain in the arse."
"And he's not now?" Sheryl shook her head.
"Er, guys." Vince began to cough to get their attention. "I am still here, you know."
"There's something up ahead!" Lee called out and nodded forward.
"What is it?" Sheryl asked.
"It's the Rawnsley Bridge." Pickle was the first to speak. "I'm not an expert with these woods, but years ago there used to be a nature trail further up. It might still be there."
"I know it." Vince nodded. "I think I remember coming up here and doing this at school, and that was nearly thirty years ago. As soon as you cross the bridge there's a path that splits into two. One path goes into the Hednesford area, and the other, the one on the right, goes deeper towards the town of Cannock."
"Right, let's stop." Sheryl held both her hands up and said, "This is ridiculous. We're heading further and further away from where we parked the truck."
"This is the only way that Bentley could have gone," Pickle protested.
"But he's one man."
"I've known Bentley for years. He's a good man, and I'm not going to give up so soon, now that we're here. We've got hours and hours before it gets dark."
It was Vince's turn to speak up. "Bentley saved Paul and Kyle Dickson. He also picked up Helen Waite when he was heading back into Rugeley. I may not know the man, but he sounds like somebody worth looking for."
"Look," Lee tried to calm everybody down before a fight broke out. "Me and Vince have a watch on. Why don't, when we cross, we give ourselves another two hours of looking before having to head back to the car. As soon as those two hours are up, we go back on ourselves."
"I can live w
ith that." Vince nodded in agreement.
"Good." Lee could now see the bridge up ahead and below it was a shallow stream. He pointed past the bridge and announced, "Me and Sheryl will take the left path. You guys can take the right."
"Okay."
"Two hours," Lee reiterated. "No more. You don't wanna be in the dark in these woods. We'll meet you back here in four hours. So it's two hours out there, and it should take you two hours to get back here."
Vince said, "Maybe we should have brought torches."
"Maybe, but there's two reasons why I didn't." Lee held out his forefinger. "One: I was never planning on staying the night." He then stuck two fingers up. "And Two: It would only attract the dead. You could probably see the light of a torch from a mile away."
"He might be back at the camp by the time we've finished looking for him," Sheryl said.
"True." Pickle nodded and screwed his face as if he had just thought of something, and said to Lee. "What happens if one pair o' us turn up at the bridge, but the other pair is still missing?"
"If me and Sheryl come back in four hours and you're not here, then we'll have to go to the camp without you. We can't put ourselves in danger, hanging about in the dark."
"But what happens if we get here, and you don't turn up?" Vince queried.
"Er." Lee was at a loss for words.
"You've got the truck keys."
"I can't leave them in the truck, somebody might come along..." Lee paused and snapped, "Look, it's not gonna come to that anyway." It was clear by Lee's face that this was something that he had never thought of. "Just make sure you're here in four hours, then we go home. If Bentley isn't back at the camp by the time we get back, I don't know what we're gonna do."
Asked Pickle, "Yer not gonna go looking for him the next day?"
"I don't know." Lee looked under pressure and seemed to be trying hard to keep his anger in check from all of these queries. "If we're gonna keep going out, taking people with us, using fuel, questions are going to be asked by the locals. This has never happened before. Don't forget, I'm not in charge here. We all are: Me, Sheryl, Gillian, Daniel, Jon, Rick, James, Luke..." Lee paused as soon as he mentioned Luke John's name and lowered his head in sadness. "We may need to vote on this, if we want to go out the next day, to see if people think risking lives for one life is going to be worth it. I know it sounds really harsh..."
"I bet James McDonald will vote no," scoffed Vince and spat on the floor as a fly flew into his mouth.
"It might not come to that," sighed Lee. "Let's see what happens. We'll see you here in four hours."
With their small bags over their shoulders, machetes tucked in their belts, the four individuals walked across the small bridge and could see the yellow arrows pointing to the left, welcoming the visitors to the nature trail. Sheryl and Lee went along the path and Pickle and Vince went on the right path.
All four had been on their paths for around five minutes and already they had disappeared from view. Vince looked at his watch. "We've got three hours and fifty five minutes."
Pickle looked concerned for his ex-inmate. "I hope he's back at the camp."
"And if he's not?"
"Yer have to respect the rules." Sighed Pickle, "If they decide not to go looking for him tomorrow, then we have to accept it."
"Seriously?"
"Vince, if I was lost out here, I wouldn't want the camp to be bringing out these people and wasting fuel for me. I like Bentley, I really do. I've known him for years, but I think Lee does have a good point."
Chapter Twenty Eight
Karen was taking a walk after her meal at Paul Dickson's house and headed to the barrier at the other end of the camp. She seemed in a melancholic mood and had no idea if she was becoming depressed or not. She had been through a lot, but so had everyone. She placed her hand on her stomach, produced a sad smile, then stopped as she reached the HGV. She knew that Paul was due to be there in an hour or so.
She looked up and could see that Nicholas Burgess, Rick Morgan, and Daniel Badcock were at the barrier, near the Globe Island, only yards from the edge of the town centre. All three men appeared to be bored and only one of them, Rick Morgan, appeared to be carrying a blade of some kind, a baseball bat was carried by the other two. Karen smiled to herself. It had been a while since she had used her machete. It now sat in the corner of her bedroom.
"Two Wasters up ahead!" Nicholas Burgess yelled.
"Okay, okay." Daniel looked annoyed at Nicholas and told him, "Not too loud. Some of the residents, the younger ones especially, might hear you." He turned around to check if anyone was present and clocked Karen straight away. He smiled and waved at her.
She waved back and asked, "Are you gonna get rid of them?"
"I think Nicholas and Rick can take these two." Daniel began to laugh. "My treat."
Karen crouched and peeked under the articulated lorry that was stretched across the road. She could just see that the ghouls looked like they were both female, early thirties.
"Well," Daniel looked at Rick and Nicholas. "What are you both waiting for?"
"They'll go eventually," Rick yawned and began to pick his nose.
"Yeah, he's right," Nicholas spoke up.
Karen shook her head at the men and generally thought that Nicholas was still nervous with coming face-to-face with these things and probably had little experience. Rick Morgan, on the other hand, was just being a lazy bastard.
"Jesus!" Daniel snapped. "Do I have to do everything around here? Somebody come with me." He pointed at Nicholas Burgess. "You."
"Why me?" protested Burgess.
"I'm not facing these things one-against-two when I have another two so-called guards doing fuck all. Just because Lee and Sheryl are away, you think you can get away with murder."
"You'll probably find they're probably just scared." Karen spoke up and pointed at Burgess. "Especially that one."
"What the fuck do you know?" Burgess retaliated defensively. "Go back and do some knitting or something." He then burst into hysterics, expecting the other two to join in, but he was on his own. Unlike Nicholas Burgess, Daniel and Rick were aware of what Karen had to go through in order to still be living. Nicholas stopped laughing and cleared his throat, now feeling stupid.
Daniel began to climb down to the other side and beckoned Burgess to follow him. "Come on. I'm not doing this on my own."
"I don't want to."
"Just take Rick with you," Karen shouted up, then nodded in Nicholas' direction. "He's obviously too inexperienced for this."
"Fuck off!" Nicholas yelled at Karen. She was beginning to get on his nerves and her comments were embarrassing him in front of the other two men.
"This is the only way he's going to get experience, Karen," Daniel called back. "We've been mollycoddling him for too long now."
"I've done these things before," Nicholas protested. "I'm not scared."
"It doesn't matter," Rick Morgan sighed. "I'll go with you, Daniel."
"I'll do it," Nicholas huffed. "For fuck's sake." He bent over to tie his shoe lace and placed his bat by his feet. He swapped feet and tied the other one. As he stood up the bat could be seen rolling down the cab. It landed on the other side of the HGV, just missing Karen.
"You did that on purpose." Daniel shook his head at the hapless Burgess.
"No I didn't," Burgess protested. "You saw it yourself. It rolled off."
"Bullshit!"
"Oh, fuck off!"
Karen bent over and picked up the bat. "Honestly. You guys are worse than a bunch of women. She progressed towards the HGV, opened the door, climbed into the cab, and went out of the door at the other side. She jumped onto the tarmac, ignoring Daniel screaming at her to come back.
Both Snatchers were by the side of each other and picked up their pace once they saw the twenty-three-year-old female.
Karen front-kicked the one on the left, forcing it to the floor, giving herself ample time to deal with the one that was still standing
.
She smacked the bat round the side of its head with zero hesitation, watched it fall, then brought the bat down one more time, smashing the head and exposing its diseased brain.
As the second one clambered to its feet, Karen brought the blood-stained bat over her head and smacked it three times, predictably smashing its skull in. Dark blood poured out of its head like an oil spill and Nicholas had to look away in disgust.
"Cocksuckers." She emptied her nostrils and looked up to the three stunned men. "Are you just gonna stand there with your dicks in your hands, or do you want me to move them for you as well?"
She threw the bat up at Nicholas, who caught it first time, then suddenly put it by his feet once he realised that the bat, and now his hands, were covered in the Wasters' blood.
Karen Bradley went back through the cab to get to the other side of the barrier and into the camp. She began to walk away from the HGV and heard Daniel call out, "You shouldn't have done that, Karen. Not in your condition."
She stopped walking for a few seconds, was about to say something back to Daniel, but changed her mind. She continued with her walk as all three men glared at the back of her. Nicholas looked at Rick and jokingly said, "I think I'm in love."
"Never mind that." Daniel punched Nicholas on the shoulder, stopping the man from staring at Karen Bradley. "Come and help me shift these bodies."
Chapter Twenty Nine
"Where did you get this from?" asked Bentley.
"I caught it."
A small fire had been made outside, and on a spit was a stripped rabbit that had been caught earlier by one of her many traps that was situated around the area.
She took a look at the meat and announced, "It's nearly done."
Bentley had already downed half a litre of water from the young girl, but refrained from asking for more.
Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield Page 13
