Six spilled out onto the road, and he was convinced that there was going to be more.
"Oh bollocks."
He knew he didn't have it in him to remove these things with the blade tucked in his belt, so raised both guns and unloaded them into the six ghouls. "Fuck it!"
Three cartridges were released and two more bodies went down in a bloody mess.
With one of the weapons tucked under his arm, he turned back round and put his hand in his pocket. The shotgun cartridges in his pocket had disappeared. "Great." Maybe he had lost them climbing the hill, or maybe earlier on. Whatever the reason, they weren't there anymore and he immediately took the bag off his back, placed the empty shotguns into the bag, put it back over his shoulder and moved away, occasionally looking behind to make sure they weren't catching up with him.
Out of breath and out of energy, Pickle looked up to the heavens and said, "Help me, Lord. You are my heart; you are my strength."
His movement began to quicken and he concentrated on looking forwards and progressing, rather than worrying what was behind him. He told himself that he would count to thirty before looking over his shoulder. And when he did this there was many behind him, but they were so far away that he could relax a little.
He was now passing the road, to the left, that led into Slitting Mill, and was only half a mile away from the camp.
He was near.
Chapter Fifty Four
There had been a change of plan.
Theodore Davidson had a discussion with Frederick and Willie the night before and had decided to scrap the idea of trying to join the camp. Bear thought that the two companions he had was bad enough, without having to live with others that would probably get on his nerves. It appeared that staying at the Spode Cottage was the new plan, but the Lea Hall building was going to be raided at some point by the three villains as the supplies that it possibly had could keep them going for weeks.
Bear and co sat and watched the camp for at least an hour from behind a bush, near the rail track. They watched for a while, but the boredom was killing Willie and he thought the whole thing was pointless. They had plenty of supplies from the pub that could last them a week or so, possibly longer. He didn't want to risk his life for food they didn't need just yet.
Willie took out his last cigarette from the crumpled packet in his pocket, and lit it. "So we're definitely not going to approach the camp?"
"How many times are you gonna ask that same fucking question?" Bear shook his head. "We're staying at the Spode Cottage. Anyway, Rugeley's a shit hole. I was thinking in a few weeks of going further north, Yorkshire maybe. Pickering, Malton—maybe somewhere else. Now we've got the jeep, we can do that."
Willie scrunched his eyes and looked past the structure, now looking at some people that were by the side of the building, having a discussion of some sort.
"It seems to be heavily guarded," said Willie and began adjusting the elastic band that was keeping his long ginger hair in a ponytail. "I think I saw one of those men with a shotgun."
"Don't shit yourself," Bear snapped. "We'll be fine if we plan this. We can check their routines, see who goes on guard, who looks the weakest...It'll be fine."
"I don't like it." Willie took a long drag from his cigarette.
"Don't be a pussy," Frederick laughed.
Willie punched Frederick in anger and snarled, "Don't call me a pussy. I'm just trying to be careful."
"Oh no." Frederick was looking past the building and could see three people walking up a long road. There were two men and a woman. It was hard to see their faces clearly, but Frederick was sure he knew one of them.
"What is it?" Bear huffed.
"I think one of those men I can see going up the road is Bentley Drummle."
"He left the jail a while ago," said Bear in contemplation. "I remember him."
"So do I." Willie's confidence was even more diluted now that it was announced that Bentley Drummle was a member of the camp. "He used to hang around with that Pickle character—nasty bastard. Do you know that he cut my cousin's ears off and shoved them up his arse, then stabbed his legs?"
"Your cousin wouldn't get stabbed for no reason. He must have deserved it." Bear continued to watch, unfazed by Willie's story. "There's a small chance that some of the inmates from Stafford could be here."
Willie scratched at his earlobe. "Do you think?"
"Well, we're here, aren't we?" Bear said to the men, "Maybe we should raid the building in a few days. Wait till they go on a run or something. Maybe even try and do it on a night."
"Nah." Willie began to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Bear. But this raid of yours is not worth it."
"They could have stuff in there to feed dozens of people," Frederick responded to Willie's negativity and added, "We can't keep living off scraps from abandoned houses and shops that have already been broken in."
"So what are you saying?" Bear remained calm and continued to stare out. "You're not gonna be a part of this? After all I've done for you?"
Willie tried to explain, albeit with a nervous stutter, "All-all I'm saying is that I don't want to be a part of this suicide mission. Whatever you get from the building, keep for yourselves. I want to go back to the campsite."
Frederick sighed and shook his head at his friend's lack of courage. He turned to see Bear's reaction, but he remained unusually calm. Frederick began, "You need to grow some balls, Willie. If—"
"That's okay." Bear interrupted Frederick and held his hand up to stop him in mid-sentence, "If that's what he wants..."
Willie said nervously, "Bear, I've never questioned you about anything, but I think this could be one step too far. That's all I'm saying."
"That's all you're saying?" Bear mocked with gritted teeth. "You fucking cunt. Does that mean you're leaving us?"
"No, Bear." Willie shook his head frantically. "I don't want to leave. I'm just expressing my concerns."
"Well, from now on I don't want you expressing or saying anything else. Understand?"
"What do you mean, Bear?"
Bear grabbed Willie by the hair and shoved his fingers from his other hand in Willie's mouth, grabbing onto his tongue. He left his kukri alone, released his hand that was pulling on the hair and pulled out a flick knife. Frederick then turned away and knew what was coming.
Willie was in a state of panic and tried to scream out, but the damage had already been done by Bear and it was over in a matter of seconds. Bear wiped his bloody fingers on Willie's shirt and threw the bloody severed four-inch tongue onto the floor. Willie was on all fours and blood poured out of his mouth at an alarming rate.
Noticing Frederick's concern, Bear cackled, "Don't worry about him. He'll be fine. It's a good job he didn't want to leave."
Frederick shook with nerves and asked, "Why?"
"Because I would have cut his throat." Bear stood up and brushed himself down. He looked up to the skies and announced, "We'll come back tomorrow and watch the building some more. Let's get back to the jeep."
Willie writhed and moaned as blood continued to pour out of his mouth and down his chin, but was getting no sympathy from the man that had done this to him. Bear strolled over to Johnny Wilson and kicked him gently in the stomach. "Come on. Move your arse, boy. We're going back to the camp. We can come back here later."
Chapter Fifty Five
Paul Dickson had left Lisa and Kyle with Rosemary for ten minutes while he checked on Karen. With her missing Pickle and also admitting that she had self-harmed on a couple of occasions, he was growing concerned for her. He didn't know why he felt like this. He had known the woman only for a few weeks, and they hardly said a word to one another in the first week. Now they were becoming close, and she was becoming a good friend of his.
He was aware that she didn't want to be close to anyone since one of her friends was killed in the massacre at Vince's camp, but Pickle's absence meant that they saw one another a lot in the last couple of days. She was obviously lonely.
He walked alone to Karen's front door and gave it a knock. It was opened in seconds, suggesting that Karen may have already seen him coming through the living room window.
"That was quick." Paul began to laugh.
"I was just about to go out." Karen stood in her day clothes. She was so pretty, Paul thought.
"Okay." Paul was ready to turn around. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"Admit it," Karen was starting to snicker. "You was bored out of your tits and came round for a chat."
"Maybe I was a little bored." Paul smiled. "The kids are at Rosemary's for a bit."
"Well, in that case, wanna join me for a walk?"
"Where are we going?"
"I was going to check on Jasmine Kelly. I've hardly seen her since we got here."
Young Jasmine's mother was one of the ten that had lost their lives at Vince's camp. She seemed to be coping as well as could be expected, but Karen knew that just a chat could give someone a lift now and again.
The two of them left and the murky day provided a chill in the air. Karen shuddered.
"Cold?" asked Paul.
She nodded and tucked her arm inbetween Paul's and moved closer to him.
"How did you sleep last night?" asked Paul.
"Not great. You?"
He shook his head and grunted, "I had one of those dreams where everything was back to normal. I was in the house, playing with Bell and Kyle, while Julie was hoovering downstairs."
"And then you woke up." Karen was aware of these dreams. She had a few herself. It was a cruel tease.
"When you wake up," Paul began. "It's like..."
Karen stopped walking and went face-to-face with Paul who was now clearly upset. "It feels like you've lost them all over again, doesn't it?"
Paul nodded, wiping his tears away quickly, embarrassed of his breakdown. "I suppose I should be used to it by now. As soon as I woke up and saw Kyle sleeping bedside me, and looked around and realised I was in a different room, it hit me. It's like a kick in the stomach."
Paul turned his head and could see the large figure of Bentley Drummle stepping towards them. Karen smiled as he approached. She didn't blame Bentley for Vince and Pickle's disappearance. He never asked to be split from the group.
Despite the weapons that they had brought back, it appeared that it hadn't been worth it. Sheryl was abused by two lowlifes when they were there, Luke John was shot dead, and Bentley's separation from the group meant that Vince and Pickle were still missing.
"Been looking for you," announced Bentley.
Paul smiled as Bentley got nearer. He was indebted to the man for taking him and Kyle in, and for putting Julie and Bell to 'sleep' in the family's Renault Clio in that supermarket car park. Paul pointed at his own chest. "Who, me?"
"No." Bentley smiled and nodded at Karen.
"What is it?"
"Daniel sent me. He's at the barrier, near the railway bridge. Let's go."
"What is it?" Karen asked again, impatience in her voice. "Just tell me. I hate surprises."
"You'll like this one." Bentley beckoned her to follow him.
Karen huffed, but was drowning in intrigue, and followed behind the man, then turned to see Paul Dickson standing on the pavement.
Karen held out her hand. "I want you to come with me."
"If that's what you want."
"It is. We'll see Jasmine later."
*
After returning to the Spode Cottage, Bear allowed Frederick to see to Willie while he decided to go for a walk and cool off. Theodore Davidson cursed the two hopeless individuals that he had been lumbered with and took a stroll to the back of the abandoned caravan site.
He checked the ground and could see old bloodstains and knew that the place where he was standing had experienced disaster. Maybe this was a place that was thriving in the first weeks of the apocalypse, but had finally ran out of luck. He didn't know for sure, but guessed that that was what probably happened.
He gazed at the graves and shook his head.
Why bother?
Why didn't they just burn the bodies like the ones near the Plum Pudding pub?
Why were these so special?
Bear giggled and looked over at the grave where there was a cross and a rainbow bracelet that he had noticed before. He walked over, unzipped himself, and began urinating on the piled dirt of the shallow grave whilst whistling the theme tune to Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Once he had finished, he shook his cock a few times, put it back into his trousers and zipped himself back up.
He went over to the cross, which looked like two chair legs, and took the rainbow bracelet. He gazed at it and giggled, "Maybe this will bring me good fortune."
He put the bracelet on his right wrist and walked away from the grave that he had just pissed on, and began to whistle once more.
He was in no hurry to get back and checked a couple of caravans before heading back to the Spode Cottage. He was hoping that Willie hadn't made much mess inside of the place, and wondered if he was better off just killing the man. I should just finish the useless cunt off.
Johnny Wilson seemed to be an individual that fucked up most things that was asked of him, and his uselessness was beginning to make Bear despise the man.
"I'll give him another week," Bear muttered under his breath. "Just one more week. Useless bastard."
He checked one more caravan; he left for the cottage, bypassing the burnt out one, and dragged his feet towards the front of the site.
Chapter Fifty Six
As he passed the road to the right, Stile Cop Road, Pickle took a look and a thin smile emerged on his face. At the top of the road was the Stile Cop beauty spot. Although the short stay ended in disaster, he remembered arriving at the beauty spot for the first time in the prison van with KP, Laz, and the two prison officers, Jamie and Janine. There was a family there, the Pointers, and were at their wits' end.
He continued to stumble along the road and the bag on his back seemed to be getting heavier the further he walked. There was hardly anything in it: Two sawn-offs and some other things, but nothing too heavy.
Pickle had passed an entrance to a farm on his left, which he hadn't noticed before, whilst he was approaching the Welcome to Rugeley sign. He was now in the Draycott Park area and was about to pass Karen's old street. He hoped that no 'strays' were around and thought about the mother and two girls they had rescued a few days ago when they visited Karen's old home. They had settled in the Sandy Lane camp very well.
Pickle was now getting near the entrance to the Pear Tree Estate, which was a road to the right, and felt an adrenaline rush once he saw the barrier up ahead. He could see three men on top of the cab of the articulated lorry and one waved as if he had recognised him straight away.
Maybe they were checking to see if he was a Snatcher or not, Pickle thought.
Pickle then waved both of his arms in the air at the men, in case there was an episode of mistaken identity and he ended up getting shot before he reached the HGV.
One of the men disappeared and Pickle correctly assumed that the man, who looked like Bentley from a distance, had recognised him and was away to fetch Karen. He took one last paranoid look around him and quickened his pace slightly now that he was only fifty yards from safety.
He then heard the start of an engine as he got near and could see the truck reversing back. Pickle smiled and saw Karen waiting for him. There was a slight look of confusion on her face, which was understandable considering that Vince wasn't with him, but Vince's unexplained absence didn't stop her from throwing herself at Pickle and holding him tightly as soon as he went through the gap and was inside the camp. They both closed their eyes as they hugged, and no words were spoken.
Harry Branston opened his eyes, dropped his bag to the floor, and could see Paul Dickson, Bentley Drummle, Rick Morgan, and Daniel Badcock standing behind her, all had smiles on their faces, all were pleased that he had made it back in one piece. The HGV was th
en pulled forwards by a man Pickle didn't recognise.
Once they broke their embrace, Pickle knew there was going to be a hundred questions about the whereabouts of Vincent Kindl.
Bentley passed Pickle a small bottle of water and he drank the whole thing down in one. Pickle could feel the eyes on him and panted, "Okay, before yer ask, let me tell yer in short wha' happened."
"Go on," Karen urged.
At this point Jimmy Mac and Kirk Sheen had spotted Pickle and were making their way over.
Pickle was handed another bottle of water by Sheen. He took it, thanked Kirk, and this time took a few sips. "We couldn't get back at the rendezvous point to meet back up with Sheryl and Lee. Basically...we got lost. We were exhausted and were followed by a shit-load o' Snatchers, then..." Pickle paused and took another drink.
"Then?" said Karen, impatiently trying to speed up Pickle's story.
"We climbed this hill to get to the Hednesford Road, but Vince was knackered, we both were. He lost his footing and we were separated."
Now Charles Washington, Nicholas Burgess, Lee James and Sheryl Smith were making their way over. It seemed that the news of Pickle's return was spreading like wildfire around the camp.
"Pickle!" Lee called over. "Where's Vince?"
Pickle shrugged his shoulders.
"So...are you telling me that Vince is dead?" Bentley folded his arms and waited for an answer from the exhausted man. There was now a small crowd gathered round Pickle, and it was growing as Charles Pilkington, David McDonald, Gillian Hardcastle and Jasmine Kelly were now in the street and slowly heading towards the crowd.
"When Vince fell to the bottom o' the hill," Pickle began, "he couldn't get back into the woods because that was where they were all coming from, and he was too knackered to climb back up."
"So what happened?" Lee James gulped and prepared himself for bad news about his old friend.
"Those things headed over to him. He ran away towards the river, but..."
Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield Page 24
