Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield

by Shaun Whittington

  "Gentlemen," he announced and pointed at the establishment. "Our digs for the next couple of days, and it looks like the place is empty."

  Frederick craned his neck to get a better look. "What about those caravans to the right of the place, Bear?"

  "What about them?" he cackled, and pointed at The Spode Cottage. "You can stay in one of them, if you like, but I'm staying in that place."

  "Me too," Willie spoke up.

  "No." Paul Frederick shook his head. "What I meant was..."

  "I know what you're trying to say." The Bear looked up to the darkening sky, smiled and added, "It's getting dark. We'll check the caravans for food and stuff in the morning. Then we can make ourselves more comfortable in that place." He nodded over at The Spode Cottage, took the vehicle round the back of the place and got out.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  July 23rd

  Karen Bradley's sticky eyes opened and her first thought was if Pickle had returned. She got out of bed, immediately taking off her pyjamas and put on yesterday's clothes that were strewn across the floor; she even put on her boots.

  She exited the room and crept across the landing, placing her ear against his bedroom door. She didn't have to open the door. She knew he hadn't returned. She opened it anyway to see the room was just the way he had left it, and she then sadly made her way downstairs to get a drink of water.

  She thought about the dream she had, with Pickle as a Snatcher, and just thinking about it made her vertebrae rattle with fear. She wasn't going to rest until he was back. She took a swig of tepid water that was sitting on the table in a plastic bottle, and left the house.

  She made the short walk along Sandy Lane and found the place eerie, quiet. She stopped at Rosemary's door and gave it a knock. She guessed that it was around seven or eight. Not too early, she thought.

  Rosemary opened the door; her face flushed immediately.

  "I take it they're not back," said Karen.

  Rosemary shook her head. "Look, about the other day—"

  "I don't care who you fuck, Rosemary. You and Vince are hardly Romeo and Juliet, are you?"

  "Just don't tell him."

  "I don't care about that," huffed Karen. "All I care is if they're back in one piece."

  Karen turned on her heels and headed for the barrier at the railway bridge. Coming her way was Rick Morgan; she called him over and he walked towards her.

  "He never came back," he said, as if he knew what she was going to ask him.

  "I know," she sighed. "We do live together, Rick."

  "Oh yeah. I forgot." He looked to the left of him, confusion aplenty over his face. "But you know what they say: Good things come to those who listen."

  Ignoring his moronic ramblings, Karen said, "I was gonna take a walk to the barrier and wait for the four of them. There's fuck all else to do."

  "Four of them?" Rick Morgan scratched at his head. "You mean two of them."

  "No. Four." Karen half-shook her head at Morgan. It was clear that he was hardly the sharpest tool in the box, but was he really that daft? Or was he just forgetful?

  Rick revealed, "Lee and Sheryl returned last night. Didn't you know?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  Rick wasn't surprised by the lack of communication in the place, or even the fact that Karen hadn't been told. Rick could see Daniel Badcock coming around the corner and called him over. He felt awkward and needed back-up.

  Daniel held up his hands as if he already knew what this conversation was about and said, before Karen and Rick could utter a word, "I knocked on your door last night. There was no answer."

  "I was exhausted." Karen looked baffled, wondering why only half of the group had turned up. "I had an early night."

  "Bentley wasn't found." Daniel added, "As for the four that went out looking for him...they had a bit of a problem."

  "What kind of a problem?"

  "They went deeper into the woods." Daniel swallowed before continuing. "They came to the bridge where the nature trail is."

  "I know it." Karen nodded, and she was certain what was coming next. "There're two dirt paths once you cross the bridge."

  "Yeah, there is." Daniel smiled thinly, before adding, "They split up. Sheryl and Lee returned to the bridge, but Pickle and Vince never showed. Look, Karen, they could hardly hang around in the dark—"

  "Yeah, yeah." She held up her hand, stopping Daniel from explaining further. "I know all that. They'll be fine."

  "They will." Daniel was pleased that she was being so understanding, and had anticipated a verbal lashing from the twenty-three-year-old.

  Said Karen, "Me and Pickle have stayed in the woods for days at one point. So when are they going out looking for them? This morning some time?"

  Daniel and Rick both looked at one another. It was clear on their faces that that was something that wasn't going to be done in the near future.

  Karen could tell by their faces that there wasn't going to be a search party for both men. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

  Lee James walked down Sandy Lane and it appeared that he was heading Karen's way. All three stared in his direction, waiting for him to get closer. "Before you say anything," he held his hands up. "There was nothing we could do."

  "So you're not going out today? Is that it?"

  "This is the thing," Lee tried to explain. "Four people went out to look for one person yesterday. We now have three people missing. We're not even gonna put it to a vote to see if it's worth risking more people to look for them. It'd be madness."

  "This is bullshit," she laughed falsely, her fists clenched.

  "Vince, Pickle and Bentley are tough bastards. They'll be back."

  "I can't believe you're not gonna look for them."

  "You said yourself that you and Pickle stayed in the woods for days." Rick Morgan was now saying his bit. "Cannock Chase is twenty-six square miles. Looking for them in an area like that would be like looking for a needle in a cowpat."

  "It's haystack," Karen corrected, and muttered, "Fuckin' idiot."

  "Anyway," Lee sighed. "They never arrived back at the bridge, so they might have ran into a few of the dead and gone deeper into the woods. As soon as they find a road they'll be fine."

  "And what if they don't?" Karen glared at Lee.

  "They will," was all he could muster. "I bet you they'll be back here today, probably with Bentley in tow."

  "Well, if they're not," Karen squared up to Lee, saliva running down the corner of her mouth in anger, "I'll go looking for them myself."

  "I won't allow that."

  "You can't stop me."

  "I think you'll find that I can."

  *

  Pickle and Vince strolled through the woods, both sleep deprived. During the night, each man had planned to get four hours sleep each whilst the other stood watch, but it didn't work out that way. Pickle slept soundlessly for four hours, whereas Vince couldn't sleep at all. He was too nervous.

  "Now what?" Vince scratched at his hair. "We're going deeper into the woods. This dirt path is practically straight."

  "I know." Pickle stopped walking and reached for some water in his bag and took a mouthful. "We can cut through the condensed trees to the left, if yer want. But I'm paranoid about traps an' other stuff."

  "Well, we're gonna end up in Birmingham the rate we're going."

  "Don't exaggerate," Pickle laughed. "But we are moving further from the camp."

  "Do you think Lee and Sheryl got to the bridge okay?"

  "Yeah. Whether they found Bentley or not is another thing." Pickle slapped Vince's arm and pointed left, through the suffocating greenery. "Come on. This way. Let's see if we can get to a road."

  "Machetes out." Vince pulled his from his belt, Pickle did the same.

  "Yer took the words right out o' ma mouth, Kindl."

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Theodore Davidson, Paul Frederick and Johnny Wilson slept in The Spode Cottage soundlessly. The place was big enough fo
r a room each, and the three men were quite relaxed, despite what had happened back at Cardboard Hill. Having a similar incident twice was something that wouldn't happen, the men were sure of it. The jeep was parked behind the back of The Spode Cottage and all three noticed caravans when they turned up, but were too tired to check them out.

  Now they were outside, awake, and had a light breakfast and some liquid, thanks to the stuff in their bags. Bear ran his tongue across his teeth. They were in desperate need of a clean.

  "So what's the plan, Bear?" Willie was the first to speak. "Are we gonna stay here for a couple of nights?"

  "Maybe." The huge man looked around the caravan park. It looked deserted. Whoever used to live here had fled. "We need to check the place out first." He placed his hands on his hips and took a few steps forwards before stopping. "We can stay here for a couple of nights, maybe longer. Although I don't like the location."

  Frederick asked, "What's wrong with it?"

  "It's a bit exposed. We could wake up one morning and find this place crawling with those things."

  "There's quite a few caravans, Bear." Willie said with his mouthful, chewing on a breakfast bar. "You want me and Frederick to check them out?"

  Bear never verbally answered Willie's query, but nodded the once.

  Both Frederick and Willie took out their baseball bats.

  "I'll start at the back of the camp," Bear spoke up, breaking his silence. "Check each caravan for safety first. Then see if any water or food has been left behind."

  Said Willie, "We're okay for now."

  "You can never have enough." Bear felt for the handle of his kukri to feel if it was still there, then began to stroll to the back of the place, heading his six-four frame towards a large hedge that surrounded most of the campsite. He walked past a burnt-out caravan and was unbothered by this; he then pulled out his blade and once he had passed the last lot of caravans he could see three graves near the corner of the hedge. He walked closer and could see one of them had a cross with a multi-coloured bracelet that had been placed on it.

  He turned around and could see the first caravan that he was going to check. It was going to be a mundane affair, but it needed to be done if the three of them wanted to be completely relaxed, if that at all was possible.

  The Bear had a glance at the hedge and then headed for the first caravan and kicked it open unnecessarily, as the door was already unlocked. He took a step inside and kept his kukri in his hand, ready for anything. He checked the toilet and the two bedrooms. It was empty.

  He left the place and went to the next one. The results were the same.

  Before going into his third he could see his two colleagues, in the distance, leaving a caravan. He bellowed, "Anything?"

  Both Frederick and Willie shook their heads and he proceeded to the next one. It appeared that the whole site was lacking in human life.

  Still holding the blade in his right hand, Bear stepped inside the caravan and scanned the living room. Chairs had been knocked over, and it appeared to him that the people who used to live here had left in a hurry.

  He made a quick check in the two bedrooms and decided to leave, but something stopped his boots from leaving the place altogether. He had no idea what it was that he heard. It sounded like breathing. He definitely heard something.

  With no hesitation he opened the bathroom door to see a young woman, sitting on the floor, holding onto a boy. The young blonde mother was in her twenties and had her hand over her son's mouth, stopping him from making any sudden noises. The little boy looked no older than four. He was a cute thing, like his mother, and had brown eyes and light brown hair.

  Both mother and child shook when they saw this mammoth of a man standing over them, blade in his hand.

  "You on your own?" he asked the woman.

  She removed her hand from her boy's mouth, rubbed her child's head and nodded.

  "Was this yours?" Bear was referring to the caravan.

  She shook her head and shivered with fear. Her boy then began to cry and put his head into his mother's chest.

  Bear fired another query at the woman. "How long have you been here?"

  "Two days." She had spoken at last, and Bear winced as the child's sobbing became more raucous.

  He put his blade away, maybe that was scaring the child, and said to the woman, "Do me a favour, will you?"

  "Anything."

  "Shut that kid up. He's starting to get on my fucking nerves."

  She tried to shush him, but the harder she tried the more he screamed. He seemed to be getting worse.

  "Look, you can stay for a few days," Bear pointed at the infant, "but I'm not listening to that every day. He'll attract those things."

  "I'm sorry," she cried, then took a strange glance to her right, towards the cupboard where the old boiler was situated. "He'll calm down. I promise."

  Bear took a step back and placed his hand on the handle of his blade. Why was she looking at that cupboard?

  "I'll ask you one more time." Bear crouched down so that he was eye-level with the sitting woman. "Are you on your own?"

  She nodded.

  "There's nobody else here?"

  She shook her head, tears streaming down her face, and she took another glance at the cupboard once more.

  Bear snarled quietly, "You better not be lying to me."

  "I'm not," she cried, still hugging her hysterical boy.

  "Okay." The Bear then crept over to the cupboard that she had been looking at and quickly opened the door. A man came out swinging a bat, catching Bear on the shoulder, and the guy was then given a punch to his stomach for his troubles. The man fell to the floor, dropping the bat, and was now on all fours, coughing and spluttering.

  Bear turned to the woman and yelled with fury, "You told me you was on your own! You lied to me, you fucking cunt!"

  "I'm sorry!" she screamed, making her child even more hysterical, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

  "It's not her fault." The man began to speak while gasping at the same time. Bear assumed that the male was the partner of the woman and the father of the boy. "We saw you outside. We thought that if you came in, you'd try to harm us like the last lot. When I saw you heading towards the caravan I told her to hide, while I was going to strike out."

  "Please," the woman begged. "We're good people."

  "You said: The last lot." Bear gazed at the man. "What do you mean?"

  The man tried to explain, "A few weeks ago we were attacked by a couple of men, in our own house. I managed to fight them off before we left in our car."

  Bear looked to be calming down and puffed out a breath, making the two adults breathe a little sigh of relief.

  "Nevertheless," Bear bent down and picked up the bat that the man was going to use to batter him, and tucked it under his left arm. "You still fucking lied to me." He pointed at the woman menacingly.

  She cried, "I was scared."

  He heard a noise to the side of him, then caught something in the corner of his eye. He grabbed the wrist of the now standing man and could see he was holding a pocket knife. The small blade was inches away from penetrating Bear's neck.

  Bear twisted the man's wrist, making him scream and fall to his knees, and took the knife off of him. "Even now you try and fucking harm me!"

  "I'm sorry," the man pleaded. "I wasn't thinking."

  "You can save your sorrys." Bear grabbed the man' s hair, yanked his head back and stabbed him in the right eye with his own pocket knife. The man screamed out, but the screaming didn't last long, as Bear took the bat from under his arm with his right hand. He brought down the baseball bat and smashed his brains in with four strikes to the head.

  He wiped specks of the man's blood off his face with his sleeve, threw the bat across the room and went into the bathroom and grabbed the mother. She dropped her screaming little boy and he threw her against the wall of the toilet; he grabbed the boy and threw him out of the room, making the poor thing yelp as he hit the ground.
He went over to the boy and felt the woman jump on top of him, punching him in the back, screaming at the man to leave her son alone, but her pleading had fallen on deaf ears.

  Engulfed in rage, he threw the woman into the wall and gave her two punches to the stomach. He then grabbed her by the hair and threw her on the couch. He went back over to the sobbing child and grabbed the bat that had taken the man's life and ended the child's with one smack to the side of the head.

  Dropping the bat, he went over to the hysterical woman and grabbed her by the neck, punching her in the back. She collapsed to the couch and was lying on her front. She looked to the side and could see her partner and child lying on the floor, motionless...dead, and blood was pooled around them on the laminate floor.

  As soon as her eyes clocked this, she decided to give up.

  Even if she could get out of this situation alive, what was going to be the point in living anymore? She had lost everything.

  She tried to switch off from reality and tried to ignore the big man clambering on top of her and unbuckling his trousers. He pulled his trousers down to his ankles and hers were ripped off with no struggle. He also ripped her underwear off with no struggle, and he raped her with no fight back. She could feel him inside of her; tears fell from her eyes as his grunting became more frantic. She knew he was near, and was sure that once he was finished with her she was going to die.

  As his groaning and gyrating became more frantic, she closed her eyes and winced when he made the inevitable sound that most men make once they've ejaculated.

  She could feel his heavy frame getting off her and could hear him doing up his trousers. She then heard a couple of footsteps moving away from her, then returning, coming her way. She never made a sound once he grabbed the back of her hair and pulled her head back.

  She bravely closed her eyes and felt the cold steel drag across her throat.

  She was dead in seconds.