Snatchers Box Set, Vol. 4 [Books 10-12]

by Whittington, Shaun

  She remained in the house for a further ten minutes, unsure whether Pickle was in or out, and opened the main door. She closed her eyes as the soft breeze glided over her features, and stared out at the street.

  “Morning, Karen.” Craig Burns smiled as he walked past.

  “Where're you going?” she enquired.

  “Off to see Lincoln.” He stopped walking and stared at Karen. “You okay?”

  “Never better.” Karen was puzzled by his comment.

  “Elza, Ophelia and Stephanie have gone to that farm they were talking about yesterday.”

  “They'll be fine. They're tough bitches.”

  “The trouble is they have one of our vehicles.”

  “Don't worry.” Karen knew what Craig meant. The girls had been trusted with a vehicle and there could be a chance that they'd never be seen again. Karen added, “They'll be back. They've got it good here. I trust them, especially Stephanie, and so should you.”

  “Okay.” Craig nodded his head. “I'll see you in a bit.”

  “Bye.”

  Karen decided to check on Paul. She made the short walk to his home of 13 Colwyn Place and knocked on the door. She had no idea of the time. Eight, maybe nine o'clock.

  She tried the door again, then opened it and called out his name. She stepped inside and slowly walked along the ground floor. She checked the living room and the kitchen. She looked through the kitchen window to see that the back garden was also clear. She went upstairs, and once she was on the landing she pushed open the bedroom door of the room that he normally slept in. The room was empty, but the bed looked liked it had been slept in.

  After checking the other rooms, she went downstairs and went back outside.

  “Yer look worried,” Pickle called over. He had just left their home and clocked Karen walking out of Paul's place.

  “He's not there,” she said.

  “Maybe he's gone for another walk.” Pickle sighed and shook his head. “Bloody idiot. He's gonna get himself thrown out. I personally don't think there's anything wrong with doing it, but I'm not in charge.”

  “Craig told me that Elza and the rest have gone to that farm.”

  “I know. They'll be back,” said Pickle. “Yes, they have a vehicle, but this place has to be better than living in some old church.”

  “I know, that's what I was thinking. I suppose if John trusts them...”

  “Look,” Pickle cleared his throat, turned to the side and spat on the floor, “when Paul gets back, let me know. We're gonna have to sit him down and have a word with him. We should have done it days ago.”

  “If they kick him out, then I'm going with him.”

  “That's what I'm afraid of. Yer do realise if yer two leave, then I'm going with yer, and so will Vince. And if that happens, Christ knows what that Elza and her dumb friend are gonna do.”

  “I think she was joking, the other day, about killing the strong characters.”

  Pickle sighed and glared at Karen, “I don't think she was.”

  *

  Paul Dickson opened his eyes and began to groan once the pain kicked in. He sat up and immediately placed his hands on his midriff where most of the pain was; his head was also throbbing. He moved across the grass and sat up against a tree. He looked around. He was in the woods, but he didn't know his whereabouts. He closed his eyes and tried to recollect his thoughts about what happened the other night.

  The one punch from James Thomson had knocked him out, but thankfully when he checked his face nothing felt broken. His eyes sockets, jaw, nose and cheeks felt fine, but his head was sore. He didn't have any memory of being dragged from his house and put in a vehicle. He had no recollection of being driven to the woods either. The only thing that he could remember was being kicked whilst he was on the floor by Stephen and James, then they told him never to return to Colwyn Place. He did remember that.

  He looked to the side of him and saw a rucksack. He reached for the bag and unzipped it. It was clear that James Thomson and Stephen Bonser weren't completely heartless. Two bottles of water and some food were in the bag that they had left for him, and they had even put his boots back on his feet.

  Paul smiled, grabbed the bag and slowly got to his feet. He trudged through the bracken and was hoping to find a main road so that he could have some kind of inkling where he was. In the old days, the sounds of car engines would give him in an indication if there was a road up ahead. But now, he had to choose a direction and hope for the best.

  And so he did.

  Chapter Twelve

  Paul had been walking for fifteen minutes and produced a smile when he could see that the woods were thinning out. There was a road up ahead. He knew it. He decided to stop for a minute and threw the bag on the ground that was on his shoulder. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a tin of beans. He pulled back the ring pull and began to eat the beans, using his two fingers as a poor substitute for a fork. He then took a drink of water and proceeded towards the road. As soon as he reached it, he could see on the other side that there were more trees. He turned left and began to walk down the road, unsure where he was. He then patted his pockets and realised he was unarmed.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  He kept to the side and scanned the side of him for any heavy-looking branches. He could see nothing of yet.

  He'd spent another ten minutes on the road and could now see a small caravan park to his left. He bypassed the place, paranoid that it could be a place full of danger, then slowed down his pace once he was past it.

  He could see a crossroad up ahead and there were trees to either side of him once again. He then stopped walking and had a three-sixty look around. He knew where he was now. He realised he was a mile away from Rugeley, near a place called Hazelslade, which was behind him.

  His feet continued to hit the tarmac and stopped once he reached the crossroad. He saw a few dead bodies scattered around him, and then looked up to see signs at the crossroad. Signage to the right told Paul that there was a place called Upper Longdon. The left sign informed him that Rugeley was one mile away. If he wanted to get back to Little Haywood, which was five miles away, he needed to pass through Rugeley.

  Five miles, he thought. Stephen Bonser and James Thomson had driven five miles in the dark, and then dumped Paul. He didn't realise they hated him that much.

  He turned left and went up a steep road, knowing that over the brow was a steep decline that he had heard about. He was on Stile Cop Road. Once he reached the flat part, he was greeted with scores of dead bodies, and could see that most of them had been crushed by a heavy vehicle of some sort. He stepped over the bodies with his shirt over his nose, and could see an entrance to a beauty spot. He looked down Stile Cop Road and saw, in the distance, a few dead trying to make their way up.

  Paul released a heavy breath and decided to walk into the beauty spot and cut through the woods to get to the bottom of the road. It was a hell of a risk, but Paul was sure that the chances of the dead being in the woods, especially with a large part of it being on an incline, was low. Walking through the woods would also give him the opportunity to continue to search for something that could be used as a weapon.

  He walked further into the beauty spot and was greeted with more dead bodies, body parts and entrails that were many weeks old.

  “Fuck me,” Paul sighed.

  He had been told stories about Pickle and Karen, more than once, and how they had survived in the first weeks. This must have been the very same place where Pickle, Karen and the rest of the people were attacked. This very same beauty spot.

  He walked around the bodies, paranoid that some could still be active, and reached the woods. The trees seemed reasonably spaced out and Paul could see for many yards ahead, making the man feel a little more relaxed than before.

  He walked by a shallow grave that had a poorly made crucifix stuck into the ground, and descended downwards. The trees were becoming more condensed, so he slowed down his pace in case he bumped into any
thing untoward.

  He reached the bottom of the woods and could see a cemetery. Many of the dead were around the cemetery's gates, and Paul decided to turn right and walk along a dirt path that ran along the edge of the woods.

  His walk was only seven minutes old when he came to a hill. He could see that the climb was going to be a hard task, but thought it was something he had to do, because he was convinced that somewhere over the hill was Rugeley.

  He looked up the hill and puffed out a breath. He began to climb it, feeling a pain in his lower back, and was panting hard by the time he reached the top of it. He bent over with his hands on his knees and looked ahead of him. There was a cluster of trees straight ahead and he made his way over.

  He walked through the small cluster and could see a burnt out cabin. There was nothing here for him. He had seen enough and left the area, now back on the hill. He looked down and could see a twelve-foot hedge with a gap. There was a pile of dead bodies at the right side of the hedge, a football field behind it, and to the far left there was a residential area. Paul guessed it was a part of Rugeley and began to question whether going back to Haywood was the right thing to do. If he arrived back, what kind of welcome would he get?

  One thing for certain was that Terry, Stephen and James would have some questions to answer, because Paul was certain that this had been done without John Lincoln's blessing. Vince, Karen, Pickle and possibly Joanne would be pleased to see him back, safe and well, but that was about it.

  But where else could he go?

  Colwyn was the only place that he was aware of that had a community. He needed to be safe, and staying in the woods, especially without a partner to watch his back, wasn't an option.

  He looked around at the hill and began descending. He went through the gap, turned left and went onto a dirt path that ran alongside a football pitch. It was now virtually unrecognisable as a football field due to the length of the grass.

  He reached a concrete path at the end of the field and stepped onto a road called Queensway. He had a rough idea where he was now, and knew that Sandy Lane wasn't far away. He passed a road to his left called Hislop Road and continued to follow Queensway until he came across a street to the right called Hardie Avenue. He went down this street and turned left into another lane called Sankey Crescent, and was hit with mixed feelings when his eyes clocked Sandy Lane.

  It was a mess. It wasn't a place he wanted to stay for too long, but whilst he was here, trying to make it back to Little Haywood, he decided to cut through Sandy Lane to get to Western Springs Road.

  He walked by the carnage on the road, passing the crashed LGV, and headed down, trying not to look at the houses to his left. He ceased sauntering and looked to his right, at the Lea Hall building, and wondered if there was anything in there. If there was, he could put it in his bag. Only one way to find out.

  He turned to his left and saw a bloody blade on the floor. He picked it up and headed for the main doors of the building, entered the reception area, and made the short walk to the hall where everything used to be kept. He looked around inside and sighed. There was nothing left. The place had been stripped.

  Upstairs, there was the medical supplies, or used to be, but Paul decided to leave the place. He felt his right pocket, checking that the knife was still there, and made a slow walk around the corner of the building. He stared at the ground and refused to look at the field where some residents, mainly farmers, used to stay. He didn't look to his right at the changing rooms where Kyle's body was found either.

  He turned and headed for the front of the hut. He gazed to his left to see the bowling green. It had seen better days. He then looked down at Kyle's grave. It was still in tact. The Wonder Woman action figure was still there also. Vince had told Paul that Kyle had given him the toy as a 'thank you' for trying to stop him from being bullied any further by David MacDonald and Charles Pilkington, and Kindl had placed the figure on Kyle's grave.

  Paul walked forwards and could see inside the hut. A man had hung himself, but he didn't recognise the guy. Paul crouched down first, and then slowly went onto his knees. He had no idea what was wrong with him. There were no tears in his eyes. Not yet.

  He had thought about coming back here one day, but he never thought it'd be so soon. He was confused about how he felt. He always thought that he would break down and sob uncontrollably, but this wasn't the case. He felt a small lump in his throat, but that was it. He didn't feel the urge to cry, or even felt anger, and this puzzled him.

  He touched the patted earth, knowing his boy was only a couple of feet from him, and said, “Hey, big chap. What's happening?”

  As soon as he spoke, he lowered his head and shook it with a grin on his face. “What am I doing?” he questioned himself. “You can't hear me. Who am I trying to kid?”

  He reached out for the action figure, thinking about taking it as a memento, but pulled his arm back and decided to leave it where it was.

  “I love you, son.” Now, there were tears, and Paul could feel the lump in his throat growing, almost strangling the man. “I miss you every hour of every day. I miss you so much that I don't know what to do with myself anymore. You were all that I had.”

  Paul wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and slowly stood up straight. He blew the grave a kiss and said, “So long, my special boy.”

  He walked out of the place with his head lowered and out of Lea Hall's area. Once he was back on Sandy Lane, he headed straight down to Horsefair, where an LGV that was used as a barrier used to be. He turned left onto the Western Springs Road, and tried to ignore the bodies and smashed vehicles to his right on Horsefair.

  Paul walked for a minute before stopping dead. Two ghouls were up ahead, near the defunct traffic lights at Hagley Road.

  He reached in for the knife and wasted no time, heading for the two male Snatchers. There was one on each side of the road, and Paul went for the one on the left first. He pulled his arm back, once he was near, and stabbed at the beast twice. The second stab went straight through the top of the skull, but as Paul tried to pull the blade out, it snapped in two.

  “Shit.”

  Beast number two began to cross the road, but Paul ran over and front-kicked the creature in its midriff, forcing it back. The back of its head hit the green steel railings that surrounded the whole of Elmore Park.

  The ghoul walked towards Paul once again, and with no weapon, Paul side-kicked the creature’s right knee, making it fall over, then grabbed its hair and smashed its skull off of the kerb five times, caving the skull in.

  Panting, Paul Dickson stood up and looked down at the carnage he had created. In the first weeks, this scene would have turned his stomach, but now he felt nothing. He turned and continued to walk down the Western Springs Road, hoping that there were no more surprises waiting for him.

  He doubted it.

  He still had four miles to go before he reached Wolseley Road, before he reached Little Haywood, before he reached Colwyn Place.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The dead were scattered across the field, all now motionless. Most of them were hit by Stephanie's arrows, but the remaining ones were put down by Elza and Ophelia.

  They had been at it for a while and hadn't reached the farm yet, but were now in need of a five-minute breather. Elza and Ophelia sat down on the grass, panting hard whilst Stephanie stood, looking impatient.

  “You two ready, or what?” Stephanie was waiting for the girls to get off their arses.

  Elza and Ophelia took a quick look at one another, smiled, then got to their feet. They wiped the dark blood, and other gunk that was on their bats, on the long grass, and both women rested their weapons on their shoulder with their right hand, and followed Stephanie into the farm area. Stephanie had her bag on her back, where she kept her arrows, and had retrieved most of the arrows she had used on the dead in the field.

  There was a large gate and they all noticed a large dirt path that led to the farmhouse.

  Ste
phanie turned to Elza. “We can take our car up that track, get it out of the way of the country road.”

  “Not yet.” Elza shook her head. “If there're people on this farm, I don't want them to know that we're here.”

  The three females made slow steps into the farm area and could see the main farmhouse, a large shed opposite, and a large garage. They walked towards the garage and could see a tractor and a combine harvester. When they had a closer look, they noticed that there was blood on the choppers of the combine harvester and flesh hanging off them. Elza twitched her nose at the familiar smell of death and told the girls that they were going to check out the farmhouse next, and then check out the shed afterwards.

  They tried to make as little noise as possible with their boots, and scanned around the area. Neither one of them were surprised to see that livestock was no longer here. They had seen something similar like this before.

  There were no cows, sheep or lamb on the farm, no pigs in their pen, and no chickens either. If the owners hadn't have devoured their livestock themselves over the months, then the animals had probably been taken by other individuals, or even had escaped the field.

  The three females came across some more dead, two to be exact. The dead beings were both female, ten yards away past the house, dressed in skirts and blouses that were now unrecognisable in colour. They spotted Elza, Ophelia and Stephanie, and made their way over to them, slowly.

  Elza tried the main door and was surprised that it was open. She patted Stephanie on the shoulder. “Take care of them. We'll meet you inside.”

  As Elza and Ophelia stepped into the reception area of the house, they could hear the first slump of a creature that Stephanie had taken care of, then the second.

  Stephanie went inside and joined the girls; her bow was back over her shoulder and her bag over the other. The first room that they checked was the living room. The archaic living room was empty and so was the kitchen through the back. There was no sign of any blood, or anything else to suggest a killing or an attack had taken place inside.