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

by Shaun Whittington

  "Why don't you just walk on the road anyway? Is it because you'll be exposed?"

  Oliver nodded. "Just because we can't see them, doesn't mean they're not everywhere."

  The man smiled at the youngster's brainwork and patted him on the shoulder. His smile slowly evaporated off his face when he could hear something in the distance. Oliver's eyes also widened, confirming that the man wasn't hearing things, and if he was, then they were both going mad. "What's that noise?"

  Oliver turned his head to the side, as if that was going to make any kind of difference to enhance his hearing. "Sounds like a vehicle of some sort."

  "Come on," the man in the Burberry cap commanded. "Let's try and flag it down."

  They heard the vehicle go past them, and then heard it come to a stop up ahead. Yet, they still heard a rumbling noise; it sounded like a crowd of people that were groaning, which to them, could only mean one thing. Oliver looked behind him and slapped the man on the chest to get his attention. They both glared in horror when they saw dozens of them walking towards them through the trees. They were hundreds of yards away but their presence wasn't welcome. "There's probably more of them on the road." Oliver gulped hard.

  Oliver ran up beside the man and they both jogged their way to the edge of the woods towards the main road, which was only fifty yards away.

  In what little breath he had, the young boy announced to the man, "By the way, my name's Oliver."

  The man adjusted his Burberry cap, as he felt the sweat pouring out of him already, despite only running for a matter of seconds. He smiled. "I'm Kasper. Kasper Andrews."

  Chapter Forty Six

  Jack Slade kept the vehicle running. He jumped out of the cab to see for himself what was preventing their progression. Paul Parker climbed off the roof, and Lee, Karen and Pickle followed suit. Aware that the hungry mob were dozily making their way towards them, the group glared at the mangled things that were stuck inbetween the tyre and fender.

  Pickle and Karen had removed one of them and tossed it to the side of the road. It had no legs, and all that was left of its body was from the chest and upwards, and an arm was also missing, but its mouth was still eager to tear into some flesh. Pickle brought his boot down onto its skull to stop its severed head from gnashing away.

  Pickle took a gander at the one that was left. Its head and arms were intact, however, the rest of the body looked to have been ripped in two from just below the ribs.

  Despite being wedged, its arms still tried to grab at any member of the group that got near it, and its teeth gnashed away, desperate to devour something. This proved to the group that nothing was going to stop these things with the exception of trauma to the brain.

  "How the fuck did they make the van struggle and not just get crushed with the rest?" Paul Parker shook his head.

  "Probably one too many," Pickle answered, looking at the mess and debris all over the wheels.

  Paul Parker wasted no time in trying to remove it, by kicking it in its head with the sole of his shoe. This did nothing, except antagonise the half-creature.

  Pickle stopped him. "We don't wanna be forcing it back in, we need to be prising it out."

  "Grab the arms," Lee suggested, and took a hold of a cold hand that tried to claw at him. Its black fingernails tried to scratch his arm while trying to get a hold of it, but he tried to ignore it. Paul grabbed the other arm by the wrists so that he wouldn't get scratched himself, and they pulled as hard as they could.

  With words of encouragement from the rest of the group, they pulled with every bit of strength they had left, and could see the head slowly prising its way out from inbetween the fender and tyre. The head was almost out, before the arms came away from the body, forcing Paul and Lee to fall to the floor, still clutching onto the free arms. In unison, both men threw the arms to the side in disgust as if they were on fire.

  "Don't forget, they're rotting!" Pickle exclaimed. "That's why the arms came off so easily."

  Pickle could see the head, that was still attached to what was left of the chest, and told Jack to get back in the cab. Pickle took his leg and placed his boot behind the head, and gently tapped it to force it out. One last gentle kick forced the head to hit and roll onto the road. Its eyes and mouth were still moving. It baffled the group; this thing had only its head left, yet, was still willing to take a chunk out of someone, but had no stomach for the meat to drop into.

  So what was the purpose of them eating in the first place? Was it rage?

  Pickle urged the rest of the group to get back into the van.

  "Thank God for that," Pickle sighed.

  "Where we going?" Jack called out.

  "Dunno yet. As soon as yer find somewhere quiet, pull up. In fact, I'm coming in with yer."

  "But I wanna be with Thomas and Kerry."

  "Fine," Pickle responded. "Yer can keep on driving."

  Pickle had finally unlocked the back of the van with the keys and tried to usher the group into the back, as he could see that the mob wasn't very far away now. He asked Karen to go into the back of the van and she smiled without making a protest. Lee Hayward refused to make eye-contact with the former nurse, and hated to admit it, but he was scared of her.

  Pickle pulled on Paul, who was stamping on the live head that was now on the side of the road. Once it caved in, it released its contents over the tarmac, some of it sticking to the sole of Paul's shoe. He wiped his feet on the grass at the side of the road and then jumped into the back. Paul was the last that Pickle had managed to bungle into the back of the van. He shut the door and ran to the passenger's side. He took one last look behind him and shook his head at the crowd of creatures stumbling towards the van. They were now fifty yards away. Where did they all come from?

  "Squeeze up," Pickle ordered as he got into the cab, but in a gentle way. Both Kerry and a tearful Thomas shifted up and Kerry ended up placing Thomas on her lap.

  Jack comforted his son by gently rubbing his head, then pulled away, but was told that they'd be stopping again real soon once they were a fair distance from the mob behind.

  "Why are we gonna stop?" Jack rubbed his eyes.

  "So we can have some rest. Plus, we don't know where to go. We have refreshments in the back that we could all do with, and there're a couple o' jerry cans o' petrol in the back that we could do with emptying into the tank. May as well put it in the van soon, as we may not have another chance to fill it up. As soon as that mob come round that bend, we're off again."

  "The last thing we need," Kerry said, "is to run out of petrol, while we're in the middle of a crowd of those things."

  "Exactly." Pickle nodded.

  Jack shifted the van into fourth and went round to the right at a sharp bend.

  Once they were two hundred yards away from the bend, and noticing it was clear up ahead, Pickle said, "This'll do."

  The van came to a stop, and Pickle wasted no time in jumping out of the vehicle and opened the back. Paul and Karen spilled out onto the road and never asked why they had stopped so soon. Lee remained in the back, slurping on a bottle of water.

  "Help yerself to food and water," Pickle announced. "I'm gonna put the rest o' the fuel in the van. As soon as we see those things come round that bend, we're going again, then we'll pull up somewhere real quiet and decide our next move."

  "And what happens if we're attacked by them from the side of us, from the woods, where we can't see?" Lee pointed at both the woodland on both sides of the road.

  "We'll hear them first," Pickle chuckled. "Trust me, stealth isn't their strong point."

  Lee ruffled around and began eating dry bread, and was quickly verbally slammed by Jack Slade. "Don't forget there're others as well." Jack jumped in the back and took out water for his son and Kerry. Karen announced that she would hydrate once everyone was done. There was two bottles of water left from the stash that was taken from the supermarket over a week ago, and Karen knew this was going to be their last refreshment break for a while, unless the
y found something very soon.

  Paul walked up to the back of the van and stood beside her. He then whispered, "Did you hear that?"

  Karen instantly pulled out her Browning that was tucked in the front of her jeans, and replied, "Hear what?"

  There was a little noise from the chattering coming from Kerry, Thomas and Jack, and Karen decided to shush the group. They obediently stopped talking and knew there could be something wrong. Even Pickle stopped pouring petrol into the van and tilted his chin up at Karen to ask her what was up. She shrugged her shoulders and then they all heard it. It was a faint rustle coming from the condensed trees to the left of them.

  "Time to go," Pickle said. But before the group had chance to get back to their original positions in the van, the excited voice of Thomas broke their momentum.

  "Oliver!" Thomas screamed out from the cab and jumped out of the already opened passenger door of the van.

  Oliver Newton ran out of the woodland, onto the road, and welcomed the sight of young Thomas. They had both grown reasonably close when they were living in the village hall, and Kerry was equally pleased to see him. They hugged and kissed one another. Paul and Jack also joined in with the welcome, and Paul ruffled the hair of the cheeky fifteen-year-old.

  "Great," Pickle muttered to Karen. "Another mouth to feed."

  Oliver looked round. "Where's Gary?"

  Jack lowered his head; Oliver read Jack's sad body language, telling the youngster that he wasn't going to see Gary again.

  "What happened, kid?" Paul began to quiz the fifteen-year-old.

  "I went to do the toilet in the woods and got attacked by those things, so I ran away. Once I thought I had outrun them, I went back to the hall and saw the things attacking the group while the three of you were out. I could see most of our lot escaping," he looked at Kerry and Thomas, "including these two. There was too many of them, so I decided to just take my chances in the woods. I've never been so scared in all my life. I thought you were all done for."

  "Well it's good to see you, Oliver," Paul added.

  "Absolutely," Kerry said, and gave him a hug, kissing him on his cheek.

  Out from the wooded area came another figure; it was Kasper Andrews. He held out his hand to the group and squinted at the sun, hanging in the atmosphere above him.

  Pickle said sharply, "Fuck. Is there anymore, or is that it?"

  "It's just the two of us," Oliver answered the sarcastic query, and pointed behind him. "This is Kasper, we met only a few minutes ago."

  Jack and Paul glared at the presence of Kasper and then both looked at one another. Both men's blood ran cold and Jack could feel apprehension suffocating him. His eyes glared at the man and he wanted to be sure, he wanted to be really sure before erupting.

  It was definitely him.

  All that was missing was a shotgun.

  He took another look at Paul, and Paul nodded back as if to say, that's definitely him! They couldn't both be wrong.

  "Get him away from here!" Jack screamed, to the confusion of Karen and Pickle.

  Kasper took a hard look at Jack, and his facial expressions suggested that there was some kind of history between this man and Jack. And once Paul began to remonstrate, it appeared that one of the new recruits was something of a hate figure. Paul backed Jack up, but had to run over to him to stop him from grabbing Kasper and grabbed both of his arms. Oliver looked baffled at the scene that was occurring before his eyes and went over to Kerry and Thomas, out of the way of the minor skirmish.

  "What the hell's going on?" Pickle demanded.

  "This...man..." Jack spat, and then paused, turned and gestured to Oliver to get Thomas back into the cab, out of earshot of what he was about to say. With Kerry in tow, Oliver did this, and shut the door and ran back round to the scene so he could hear what was going on. "This man and his...friend raped and killed Gary back at the supermarket a few days ago. The same day the village hall was invaded."

  Oliver held his hand over his mouth and Kerry did the same in the cab, as she could still hear what was going on."

  Kasper giggled falsely, adjusted his sweaty Burberry cap, and looked at Pickle, guessing that he was in charge. Keeping his eyes on Pickle, Kasper pointed at Jack and released a false, wide smile. "What is he on? Is he dehydrated or something?"

  Kasper was standing at the edge of the road and was ten yards away from the rest of the group. He took a step forward, and Pickle pointed at him and narrowed his eyes. "Stay where yer are."

  Paul was still holding onto Jack and turned to Pickle and Karen. Said Paul, "Gary was in our group when we were all staying in a village hall. We went to the supermarket down Power Station Road." Pickle then scrunched his face and realised it was the same one he had gone to over a week ago, where Conor Snodgrass met his fate. Paul continued, "He and his friend tied me and Jack up, then he," Paul pointed at Kasper, "raped Gary and slit his throat."

  Karen whispered in Pickle's ear and informed him that the Gary Paul was referring to, was the same man he had had a brief conversation with a few days ago when they were stationed at Stile Cop.

  Pickle turned to Karen. "He used to be on my wing. Good bloke, car thief."

  Paul let Jack go once he realised he had stopped struggling.

  Jack said, "If we hadn't escaped we'd be dead too, because of this piece of shit! But we're not, thanks to Paul."

  Pickle allowed the information to settle in his mind before making a decision. He took a sharp intake of breath, ignoring Kasper's pleas of innocence, and then exhaled slowly. "Right, everyone in the back o' the van."

  Jack agreed to this, but still wondered what was going to happen to Kasper. Paul also never questioned Pickle, as he was sure that Kasper wasn't going to be allowed to ride with them.

  Everyone began to get into the back, one-by-one, aware that the crowd of cannibals must have been gaining on them, and were only seconds away from appearing from around the bend of the main road.

  Kasper looked at Pickle and shrugged his shoulders. "So, what about me?" He was ignored. So he asked the question again, as Karen shut the back doors of the prison van.

  Pickle, standing next to Karen at the back of the van, gestured with his forefinger for Kasper to stand next to him. He adjusted his Burberry cap and slowly walked over towards Karen and Pickle. His walk was full of arrogance, almost Tony Manero like.

  "So, what's gonna happen?" Kasper held out his arms, awaiting a positive answer.

  Pickle sighed, lowered his head, and cleared his throat and spat onto the floor. "It's dangerous enough out there, without having to deal with people like you as well."

  Kasper shook his head and revealed a wide beam, and pointed at the back of the van. "He's lying. They're both lying. They must have me mixed up with someone else."

  Pickle looked over to Karen, and then turned back to Kasper. "From now on, yer on foot."

  "What? You gonna fuckin' leave me here like a dog?" The anger in Kasper's voice suggested that he was definitely someone they shouldn't underestimate, like Jason Bonser. He snarled and stepped towards Pickle with both fists clenched.

  "Back away!" With no hesitation, Karen was five yards away and raised the gun at Kasper's head, which caused him to look at her and break out into hilarity. He held onto his chest with both hands and begun to laugh uncontrollably. Karen waited for his hilarity to diminish and narrowed her eyes at the obnoxious individual.

  He was surprised that any of the group had a weapon at all, and here was some young slag pointing a hand-cannon at him. The infection itself had caused the world to become a bubble of surrealism, but a young lady, young enough to be his daughter, aiming a Browning in his face was too much for him to contain, causing his laughing to increase. Okay, so they're gonna force me to go back into the woods. Fine. I'll go. Fucking idiots. Don't need their help anyway.

  Kasper waved away at Karen, mockingly. He eventually stood up straight and was managing to contain himself. He opened his mouth to speak. "Look, sugar—"

 
The audible sound made Paul, Lee and Jack jump—not Oliver—as they sat in the back of the van. The body of Kasper Andrews fell backwards as the bullet penetrated the brain, causing some matter to escape from the back. The body hit the tarmac with a deathly thump and Kasper Andrews lay motionless. His legs were apart; his arms were by his side as if he was just having a regular lie down. The only thing that made this image terrifying, was the pool of blood that was quickly gathering from the back of his head and pooling around the cranium.

  The gun remained in its position, shaking a little, to Karen's embarrassment. Killing those things was fine, but a human was a different ball game altogether, even if he was the scum of the earth. This had been the first time she had killed a human being. She then lowered the gun to enhance her peripheral vision, and before a shocked Pickle could ask what the hell was she thinking, they could see the first group of Snatchers hobbling around the bend.

  "Cocksuckers at twelve o'clock," Karen announced.

  It seemed that the army of the dead were never going to let up, and what unnerved the two of them was that they didn't know what was up ahead. It could be clear, or there could be more of them. They could be driving into a potential trap—not that these things had the intelligence to design or plan such a thing, but it still dwelled in the back of their minds that this was a realistic situation that could occur.

  Was the van strong enough to run into dozens of the things? The answer was yes.

  Was it strong and powerful enough to ram through a crowd of hundreds of them? The answer was, I don't know—probably not—or, no way. It was a negative answer nevertheless.

  "Time to Foxtrot-Oscar." Pickle sniffed, and went into the front of the van, and Karen quickly followed. Karen shut the door and gave Thomas a friendly smile before doing so. "We'll be okay."

  There were now five of them squashed in the front, with three in the back, and Pickle urged Jack to move along so he could drive. Jack nodded without remonstrating and sat next to Kerry who had Thomas on her lap, and put his arm around her.