Snatchers: Volume One (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 1-3)

by Shaun Whittington

  The curtains had been drawn since that fateful Sunday and knew it was a matter of time before either they were rescued, or her and daughter would have to face the realisation that starvation was a possibility.

  Jocelyn switched the kettle on and went for the fridge; she picked out a carton of milk and held it to her nose. It smelt funny the day before; it smelt terrible now, and there was no way she was going to give her daughter something that could make her ill. She would have to make do with drinking water, warm water boiled from the kettle, or some of the blackcurrant diluting juice that was sitting in the cupboard.

  Jocelyn jumped with fright as she heard a thump on the kitchen window. It wasn't anything new and that she wasn't used to, but it always unnerved her all the same. How long would it be before one of them would unintentionally break the window? Again, like the day before and the day before that, it sounded like one of them had stumbled into the window accidentally.

  She lifted the blinds by millimetres to see that there were three of them in the back garden. She looked at her little girl who was oblivious to what was happening outside, and she quietly played with two ornaments from the fireplace. Jocelyn knew that the moment they found that there was something or someone inside, the windows might as well be made from paper. She had already planned her survival. It was basic, but it was all that she had and it involved her running upstairs with Hannah, blocking the top of the stairs with the huge cupboard she had managed to empty and 'walk' across the landing, which would then be followed by locking themselves in the main bedroom, followed by prayers.

  What else could she do? Without her husband, Paul, Jocelyn Parker felt useless.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  "Daddy?"

  "What is it, champ?"

  "Do you think the monsters will be back?"

  It was morning and the group were still in the cabin. Jack Slade glared at his son and had no clue how to answer him. He looked at Kerry who was as dumbfounded as he was, and his hesitant eyes went back onto his son who was still waiting for an answer.

  What was a father supposed to do?

  He wanted to protect his son—he was only six years old for Christ's sake, but at the same time, he didn't want to lie to him either. Jack took the easy option and sighed, "I dunno, son. I hope not." Of course they'll be back! The place is littered with them!

  The group were exhausted and predictably had very little sleep during the night.

  Kerry sat closer to her confused son and placed her arm around her little man. "You don't have to worry about things like that, okay?"

  The boy nodded unconvincingly with a scowl. He brushed his fringe from his eyes. Jack noticed that Thomas needed a haircut, as at the moment his hairstyle was reminiscent of the way The Beatles had their hair on the front cover of the Rubber Soul album.

  Kerry brushed back her dark, bobbed hair and continued to reassure her boy. "So long as daddy is here, and Paul...and of course, me, nothing will happen to you. Is that clear?"

  The six-year-old's eyes looked to the ceiling of the cabin and he began to chew the inside of his right cheek, lost in deliberation. "Um, okay."

  "Don't you worry about things like that," Kerry continued, and leaned over and kissed the top of her son's head.

  "Besides," Lee spoke up, feeling a little left out. "Uncle Lee will sort those vagrants out." Then Hayward stood up and started comically performing some shadow boxing like an old granddad would, and threw a few half-hearted jabs. A few seconds later Lee had ran out of puff to the amusement of the child, and had to sit back down.

  Thomas whined, "Mummy, I'm thirsty."

  Paul scratched his head. "We're gonna have to go soon."

  Kerry asked, "Back to the hall?"

  Paul shrugged. He wasn't sure.

  "When?" Jack quizzed.

  "Ready when you are."

  Kerry stood to her feet, with Thomas doing the same. He held onto his mother's waist; Lee Hayward and Jack also stood next to Kerry's side, and Paul stood next to the exit of the cabin with his right hand on the bolt of the door.

  Even though nothing had been said, Paul seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group. "I'll check before we go out."

  All three adults nodded back at him and he made no hesitation in opening the door and leaving the cabin. The morning was strange, and although it was hard to tell what the weather was really like until they were out of the woods, it appeared through the trees to be a dry, yet, murky day. Paul scanned the woodland and was confident that nothing else untoward was dwelling in the area. He looked over to the almost headless corpse in the distance that he had dealt with the night before, and was confident that if he remained standing where he was, the group, and more importantly, Thomas, wouldn't see it.

  "It's clear," Paul lied.

  First to come out was Jack, followed by Lee, Kerry and Thomas.

  Kerry stepped out and breathed in the clear air and scanned the area herself. Knowing that Jemma Marlow's corpse was up ahead, Jack instructed Thomas to stay behind his mother, as all five of them slowly walked through the wooded area. Paul was about ten yards further up ahead, which suited Jack and Lee. Lee was anxious and Jack wanted to stay beside his son.

  Paul turned around and looked at the group. "I think we should give the hall a miss and go the opposite way."

  "What? No chance," Lee remonstrated. "Isn't that the direction those things went last night while we're all hiding in that hut."

  "Yeah, but that was hours and hours ago."

  Jack told Lee, Kerry, and her son to stay where they were, and walked the ten yards up to where Paul's presence was. Feeling the eyes of Kerry and Lee boring holes into the back of his head, Jack whispered, "What's really the matter? Why can't we go back to the hall? Even if we're surrounded by those things, we can lock ourselves in. And we've got all that food from the supermarket. It's strong enough to hold, isn't it?"

  "Sorry, Jack." Paul lowered his head and nodded behind him, which was the way back to the village hall. "I didn't want to upset your son...or Kerry."

  Jack's eyes weren't as strong as the man that was almost ten years his junior and took another walk ten yards past Paul's presence. He pushed his neck out and tried to focus with his eyes. His eyes then looked side-to-side like an old Action Man doll. He could see thirty...forty...maybe even fifty of the things in the distance; some were spread out in line as if it was a pre-planned attack, which it obviously wasn't, like something out of a Zulu film. They were gaining rapidly and the village hall was definitely out of the equation, and going back to the hut, curled up like frightened prey was an option he didn't want to pursue now it was daylight and they could now see where they were going.

  With no time to lose, Jack called out to the rest, "Okay, let's go."

  He burst into a light jog in a different direction, and a dumbfounded Kerry and Lee raised their arms and shoulders, their body language translating into: What's going on?

  Understanding their body language, Jack said, "Trust me, let's run." He gave Kerry a wink and nodded at his son, informing his ex that he would explain later and that he didn't want to frighten the boy.

  Both Lee and Kerry, who had a hold of Thomas' hand, ran behind Jack, with Paul casually jogging behind.

  "Do y'know where the main road is?" Paul asked Jack from behind, with heavy breath.

  Jack shook his head. "Usually you'd listen out for traffic—cars going by and stuff. That's usually an indication where the road is, but there ain't gonna be much of that now, is there?"

  Jack looked over his shoulder and saw that the creatures had disappeared from his view. It didn't mean that they weren't there anymore; they just weren't being picked up by his eyes for the time being.

  Jack Slade occasionally looked down, still paranoid that he could be attacked by an adder. He bellowed to the group to try and follow his exact path if they could, but it was more for Thomas' benefit, as Jack didn't know what was around in the woods. He knew some illegal shootings took place, and was conce
rned that there could be certain traps lingering on the ground, discarded hooks, or other accessories from sloppy fishermen who would use the pond nearby.

  "Jack!" Kerry screamed. As soon as she screamed out his name, she placed her hand over her mouth to prevent anything else coming out, but the damage had already been done.

  He looked and saw three of them wandering clumsily to their left, about fifty yards away. The group all veered right, following Jack's lead, and the forty-year-old was beginning to panic. There was dozens behind them, and three more to their left, and he felt that if they came across anymore up ahead, they would be more or less surrounded. Surrounded with no weapons! The spear that Jack had, had been left in the wooden hut, but would have been hopeless in this situation anyway.

  Jack stopped in his tracks, and the rest followed suit. He turned to the group who never questioned his action and announced, "I can hear a vehicle up ahead. Follow me."

  Chapter Thirty Five

  It was a struggle throwing Jason Bonser in the back of the van; even with the help of a weakened Harry Branston. The injured man still wriggled and writhed like a snake on fire, but it had finally been achieved to the disgust of their former guest, and Karen was under instruction to get rid of him. Karen had dressed his wound, not as an act of kindness, but so that he didn't bleed all over the floor of the van.

  Bonser was threatened by Pickle that if he came back, he would be shot on sight. But it wasn't being kicked out of his temporary lodgings that unnerved and frightened the ex-prisoner, it was the fact that he was going to be dumped in the middle of nowhere, injured, and with no weapon of any sorts for protection. The action of Karen and Pickle, to Bonser, was deplorable, and he felt that being dumped alone would be like ringing the dinner bell for any wandering cannibals.

  She had driven a mile out of the village and felt that this was enough, as although a couple of Snatchers had been seen as she drove past, she felt that further up could be a different story, and didn't want to take the risk of having to ram her way through and be surrounded herself just to drop this piece of shit off.

  She had thought about putting a bullet in Bonser and then telling Pickle she had dumped him. But she couldn't lie and be disrespectful to a man that she owed her life to, plus, she had never killed a human being before.

  She looked up ahead, along the bendy road and in her side mirrors. With the convex glass telling her it was also clear behind, she pulled up the van a little too harshly, and heard a thump in the back as if her sudden stopping had thrown Bonser around. She jumped out of the van and opened the back doors with caution, her Browning pointing menacingly at Bonser who was lying on the narrow floor of the van with the opened cells on either side of him.

  "Ready when you are," Bradley growled.

  "Please, at least drop me somewhere where there's other people," Bonser begged, but it was one of those begging sentences that attracted no pity.

  "I think the last thing you need to do is mix with other people. Even if you get to Longdon, they'll probably be no one there, 'cos the place is that small. You've got ten seconds," Karen aimed the gun at his thigh, "or another slug's gonna go into your other leg."

  "Alright, alright." Bonser held up his hand in defeat. "For fuck's sake!"

  He dragged himself out of the van and pulled himself up onto his feet, as he stood at the end of the vehicle. He started looking at the three steps he needed to hop down to get onto the road. "At least give me a hand." Bonser held out his right hand, and Karen reacted by grabbing his sleeve and pulling him out of the van, causing the man to hit the road with a thump. He screamed out in pain as his thigh scraped the tarmac. Karen calmly began to shut the back door and sighed when she saw a little blood smeared in the aisle where the injured Bonser had dragged himself to the exit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to annoy her.

  He looked up at Karen with pleading eyes, who in turn, looked at him coldly with executioner eyes. He knew that he was getting no sympathy from this one, so decided to save his breath as far as the begging and pleading were concerned. She had willingly picked him up and offered him food and shelter, yet, he had returned the gesture by thinking about killing them both so he could have it all for himself. Even Jason Bonser had to admit that most of this was his own fault. He had created this mess.

  She nodded to his bandaged, wounded thigh. "I did a good job there. I suggest you learn to run with a limp. Remember," she said. "If you somehow come back, you'll be shot on sight. Got it?"

  He nodded in agreement, reluctantly.

  Karen added, "You're lucky Pickle gave you this chance. He's not like you. In the past he only harmed people for financial gain—business. He wouldn't shoot someone in cold blood, not if it was avoidable."

  Bonser snorted, "I'm touched. He's all heart."

  Ignoring his you bitch taunts, she got into the front of the van, did a three point turn—almost hitting Bonser when she was reversing—and drove away.

  Bonser, with heavy, anxious breaths, looked to the side of him where the woodland was, and watched the van slowly disappearing around the bend. At that moment, there was nothing to be concerned about, but he knew that if any of them were to appear, the pain in his leg would have to be put to the back of his mind, if that was at all possible, as survival was the only priority he had now.

  He thought about going back, despite the 'shot on sight' promise by Pickle, and maybe try and break into a vacant house in the same street or further down.

  Why didn't they just let him do that? Why did they have to be so cruel and place him in the middle of nowhere like a sitting duck? Answer: because Pickle knew he was a piece of trash, and wherever Jason Bonser went, carnage would follow, and getting rid of him was the best option for all decent human beings.

  Jason shook his head at the predicament he was in. Why didn't they just put a bullet in my head? Then he thought about the woman he had raped and strangled a couple of days ago, and the infant he had abandoned. If they had suddenly come across this information, he would have had his head blown off for sure.

  Why abandon me? He quickly and mentally answered his own question. To give you some sort of chance. They're probably not as cold as you.

  Bonser began limping along the main road that was unrecognisable to him, hoping that the next village wasn't far away. He thought about his sister. He was still miles away from where she lived, and the prison van would have been perfect to pick her up and bring her back to the house that was in a reasonably safe area for the time being. However, it wasn't to be.

  *

  Karen had taken her time round the bendy lanes; the van never went higher than second and was doing a casual fifteen as Karen's mind wandered. Her daydreaming of Gary had forced the young woman with the tough exterior, to blur her vision with saltwater that ran into the bottom of her eyes.

  It seemed so long ago, and she knew that if he had managed to somehow get out of the house, he would be out there, walking, feeding—but not as the Gary she used to know. He would be out there as one of them.

  She thought back and knew that if he hadn't have gone for his traditional night out with the boys, he would have been tucked up in bed, completely oblivious to what was happening in the world. She would have come back from work; they both would have watched the TV together, hugged, cried, then barricaded themselves into their house and would still be there now. But because of his night out, he had turned during the night and she was forced to leave the house and was now driving around in a prison van, armed with a handgun, and was friends with a man who was a notorious drug dealer. To say the week had been surreal would have been an understatement.

  Trying to shake off her daydreaming—quite literally—by waggling her head, she rubbed her eyes with the short sleeve of her black T-shirt and released a sharp, sudden yelp, as a figure appeared in the middle of the road, frantically waving his arms. She slammed the brake hard with her right foot, and stalled the van after forgetting to dip the clutch with her left, before the vehicle came to a compl
ete stop.

  "Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed.

  She could see the man was at the end of his tether, and saw him waving out a group of people who were standing at the side of the woodland.

  No chance I'm giving you lot a ride, Karen thought.

  The last time she felt charitable, it nearly cost her and her good friend's life. But before she managed to start up the engine and drive around the solitary male standing in the road, she saw a distraught woman coming out of the woods with an equally distraught young boy, clinging onto his mother's shirt for comfort. Then two other males appeared.

  Oh shit!

  Karen had toughened up over the last week or so, but she wasn't heartless. She dropped her head into her hands and released a heavy exhale of breath. She sat up straight and looked back up at the group through the windscreen. She opened the driver's side door, took the van keys, and stepped out into the light wind that cooled the arch of her back that had been gathering perspiration.

  "Please," Jack Slade pleaded. "You gotta help us."

  She looked over to Kerry, who stood with her son in front of her. She was in tears and continued to mouth the word please over and over again.

  Karen continued to stare at the group and gently banged her head off the palm of her hand, knowing that her conscience wouldn't allow her to drive past a group of desperate people, especially when there was a child involved.

  "Right," Karen spoke, her words smothered with defeat. "I'm staying at a place about a mile from here; you can stay there for the night." She sighed and shook her head; she had been put in an unfortunate position. She snapped, "All the men in the back. The woman and the kid can sit in the front with me."

  Paul Parker spoke up. "How come we have to go in the back?"