Snatchers Box Set, Vol. 4 [Books 10-12]
Page 55
She smiled as she remembered some of his lines when they were down there, trying to get to a place where Vince stayed called Sandy Lane. He told her that he used to play hide and seek with his dad when he was a boy, but his dad never looked for him. And he also said to Stephanie that if she didn’t know what introspection was then she needed to take a long hard look at herself.
When they reached Sandy Lane, her stay was short-lived and had to flee only days after making herself at home.
An explosion had occurred, and a tanker that had been found on a run by Lee James and co, had been sabotaged and enticed many of the dead to Sandy Lane. Most of the creatures had managed to get in through a hole in the fence, but once the LGVs were removed from each end of the street, the same LGVs that were used as barriers to protect the street, there was no saving Sandy Lane. It was finished.
One of the saddest things about the street coming under attack was when she, Rosemary and young Lisa had to flee the house they were staying in, over the roof, and Rosemary and nine-year-old Lisa fell to their deaths. It wasn’t the fall that had killed them; it was the dead in the back gardens that ripped them to pieces once they both hit the ground. Stephanie never saw them getting attacked; it was too dark, but she heard their screams rip through the night.
She left with Bentley Drummle and Paul Dickson. They went by the high school and headed for a little beauty spot called Horns Pool, where, in the old days, some people liked to have picnics and fish. They went by that place and reached the pub that wasn’t very far away.
They were attacked at the Horns pub; Bentley died and Paul ran away, although she thought that he had also died at the time. Days later, she had met Elza and Ophelia in the woods, stayed at the church, and then all three went to Colwyn Place after Stephanie had bumped into Vince once again.
Stephanie remained sitting in the back and turned to gaze out of the window.
The vehicle was beginning to slow down.
Chapter Seven
Pickle was given directions by Peter once they reached Rugeley, whilst Vince and Roger had struck up a conversation and were talking about music. Both men were AC/DC fans and were arguing which were the best lead singers from the group. Vince preferred Bon Scott, but Peter liked Brian Johnson better, and reminded Vince that Brian Johnson’s debut appearance on AC/DC’s album Back in Black, after Bon Scott’s death, turned out to be one of the best selling albums of all time.
David MacDonald was still in the back, the piss stain still present, but drying off thanks to the windy conditions, and sat at the side of the vehicle, eyes closed, feeling the rushing wind smother his face.
Finally, they turned off the Western Springs Road after passing Green Lane, and had arrived at Hagley Road. They could see that a part of the street looked to have suffered a brutal time over the last few months.
Hagley Road was a long road that started near Western Springs Road and stretched up a hill, houses to either side. Over the hill, the road straightened out and continued by Fair Oak School to the left and The Chase pub to the right, before splitting in two, and that’s where Hagley Road finished. The road to the left was called Penkridge Bank Road which led to Slitting Mill and Cannock Chase. The road to the right, Chaseley Road, went into another part of Rugeley called Etching Hill.
A burnt out car was the only vehicle, apart from their own, that was present, and a small pile of burnt bodies were near the defunct car. It appeared that the people of the street had tried to fight back, and Pickle guessed correctly that the pile of bodies had been Snatchers.
Roger had told Pickle to pull into a drive on their right, which was opposite a pub called The Chase, and Pickle parked the vehicle up onto the empty drive.
“Never been to this part o’ the town before,” Pickle mumbled.
“We’re not far from Sandy Lane,” Vince informed him.
“Really?”
Vince nodded. “Behind the houses is Hagley field. Fair Oak and Hagley High shared the fields for sports, and across that field is Sandy Lane.”
Pickle stepped out of the pickup, the three other guys doing the same, and took a scan around. He looked over at The Chase pub and nodded over to the place. “We could check that out before we leave, Vince.”
“Me too?” David called from the back of the pickup.
“Not you.” Vince shook his head. “You keep your arse in the back of that truck, understand?”
David nodded and sat against the back window of the truck and closed his eyes.
Vince stood by Pickle’s side and could see that the establishment looked immaculate from the outside, unlike The Wolseley Arms. There was no carnage around the area and not a sign of a broken window.
Regardless whether their mother was alive or not, Roger and Peter had informed Pickle and Vince that they were going to stay at the house.
Pickle did wonder how they were going to survive with no supplies around, but he was sure they could work it out. They were grown men, and they had lasted this long since leaving Cardiff.
Roger tried the front door. It was predictably locked.
“I’ll fix this later,” he said to Peter, before pulling his shirtsleeve over his fist and punching a pane of glass through. He put his arm through the broken pane and took the chain and snib off the door and opened it.
“We’ll let you guys do this on yer own,” Pickle said with a smile. “Once yer let us know it’s clear, we’ll be on our way.”
“Thanks for everything,” Peter said.
“No worries.”
Both Peter and Roger pulled out their blades and went inside the house, whilst Vince and Pickle stood outdoors, both men glaring over at the pub, wondering why nobody had tried to loot the place.
Pickle gave Vince a playful nudge. “Are yer thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”
“Probably not.” Vince shook his head. “Right now I’m thinking what it’d be like to have my balls slapping off Joanne’s arse.”
Pickle shook his head in disgust. “Yer an animal, Kindl.”
“What can I say? I’m a highly sexed individual.” Vince rubbed his head and chewed his bottom lip in thought. “I wonder how it’d work?”
“What’re yer talking about?”
“If Joanne did agree to sleep with me, to jump on the old famous Kindl pogo stick, I would have to use the withdrawal method. I hate doing that.”
“I don’t think yer need to worry about things like that, Vince,” Pickle chuckled. “Yer got more o’ a chance o’ shittin’ unicorns than sleeping with Joanne Hammett.”
Ignoring Pickle’s comment, Vince continued, “I think there might be condoms from that medical run from a few weeks back. I’ll have to ask Karen when we get back. She could put a few to the side in case I get lucky in the future. Might be some in the toilet in that pub over there. A pack of Trojans would suffice.”
“Yer deluded, Vince.”
“You think?” Vince took a peek at Pickle, and Pickle could see a hint of a smirk on Vince’s face.
“Just concentrate on surviving. Forget about Captain Winky.”
“I used condoms on Rosemary.” Vince began to reminisce and looked up, thinking about the recent past. “She would insist.”
“That’s nice,” Pickle sighed, more concerned about how to get inside the pub, across the road.
Vince then turned to Pickle and asked him, “What about you? Did you and KP use protection?”
“Absolutely.” Pickle nodded. “No glove, no love.”
“How did you get condoms in prison?”
“I had ways and means,” Pickle chuckled.
“I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry,” said Vince.
“Agreed.”
Vince rubbed his chin and added, “Always best to cover your stump before you hump. Package the meat before you go into the heat. Protect that fish then dip into the dish. Cover the mole then do her hole.”
“Okay, Vince,” Pickle sighed and narrowed his eyes at the man heading towards his fifties. “
I think that’s enough.”
“I have a few more.” Vince smiled.
“Don’t bother.”
“Wrap it before you slap it. Plug your funnel then enter the tunnel.”
“Have you quite finished?” Pickle sighed. “Honestly, Vince. This is the kind o’ thing I used to hear in the playground.”
“My favourite is dress him up before you mess her up.”
“Vince?”
“It’s okay.” Vince cleared his throat and said, “I’m done now.”
Chapter Eight
Karen Bradley was at the front gate. Her machete was slipped underneath her belt, but she was sure that nothing untoward was going to happen. Since Drake had left, the street had had a quiet few days. The occasional rider went by from Drake’s gang, but they knew that was going to happen. They had already been told that some of his guys would be present since Paul Dickson had escaped.
Karen yawned and gazed over at the concrete wall. Stephen Bonser was at the wall, and Rowley had just stepped out of his house and went over to where the medical supplies were kept.
Stephen tried the door of the house and Karen shouted over at him. “What are you doing?”
Stephen turned around, pushing the door open, and called out, “What’s wrong, chap?”
“Where the fuck are you going?” Karen walked away from the gate and stormed over to Rowley. She went past him and pulled the door shut.
Stephen twisted his neck, cleared his throat, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“You can’t just walk in there and help yourself. Now that we’re short of people, we don’t have anyone in there anymore, so if you need anything, then come and see me.”
“I just want a couple of painkillers for my back, chap.”
Karen took a step back and gawped at the man.
Feeling paranoid, Stephen asked Karen, “What is it? What are you looking at?”
“The tablets that you’re after do work,” said Karen, “but they make people constipated.”
“That’s alright, chap.” Stephen smiled and grunted, “I’d rather be constipated than in pain.”
“Have you actually pulled your back?”
“Um ... well, no.”
Karen puffed out a breath, tucked her hair behind her ears, and took a step backwards. She looked Stephen up and down, making the rotund man uncomfortable, and reluctantly said, “Look, you’re not gonna like this, but…”
“What is it?” Stephen had his hands on his hips and looked annoyed, even though Karen hadn’t said what was on her mind yet.
Karen bit her bottom lip and took in a deep breath before saying, “Maybe you should try and lose some weight.”
Stephen released his hands from his hips and judging by his face, the comment from Karen had genuinely hurt the man’s feelings. “That’s a bit strong.”
“Is it? How are you heavy in a world like this anyway?”
“I have lost a stone since this thing started. Obesity runs in my family.”
Karen scoffed, “The problem is that I don’t think anyone runs in your family.”
“Chap,” Stephen said and shook his head, trying to joke. “There’s no need for that. Anyway, I’m not fat, I’m just easier to see.”
“I’m serious,” Karen said. “If you lost a little weight, your back will benefit. Taking painkillers is not the answer. We should keep them for the people that need them.”
“It’s probably my old job catching up with me, chap.” Stephen twisted his neck and scratched his portly belly. “I used to be a sales person for a couple of years for a company around the UK. Driving about and sitting down all day was no good for my back or my belly,” he tried to laugh. “I travelled everywhere. Chester-le-Street, Jarrow, Carrigart, Aldershot, Peterlee, Southend-on-Sea.”
A silence fell on the pair of them and Stephen took a quick gape at the front door. He then looked back at Karen and she stood staring at the man, shaking her head, telling him that it wasn’t going to happen. Karen could see a figure in the corner of her vision and saw Stephen Bonser walking over and now standing next to Rowley. Bonser asked what was going on.
“Need some painkillers for my back, chap,” Rowley began to explain, “but she doesn’t think I need them.”
Stephen Bonser nodded and decided to stay neutral in this argument. He had seen Karen fly off the handle a couple of times since he had known her, and thought that even he would have trouble dealing with the woman. Not only that, but she was incredibly close to Pickle, and Stephen still remembered the way Pickle had dealt with James Thomson easily when the men had argued and had a scuffle on Stephen’s living room floor.
“Why don’t you just wait until Pickle comes back,” Bonser suggested. “See what he says.”
“He’ll just take her side,” Rowley moaned and nodded at Karen. “You know what the pair of them are like, chap. Thick as thieves.”
“I’m in charge of the medical supplies,” said Karen, taking in a deep breath and trying to control her anger within her. “You don’t need them. You’re overweight; that’s the problem.”
Bonser laughed and patted Rowley on the back a couple of times, but Rowley shrugged Bonser away, deeming his action as patronising.
“She does have a point,” said Bonser. “Look, I was a smoker when this shit kicked off, but you can’t get a hold of the things anymore and—”
“Unless you’re Joanne Hammett,” Stephen interjected.
“Well, I think she’s getting pretty low now anyway,” Bonser said and shook his head. “My point is: If I can quit smoking, even though I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, you could lose a bit of timber.”
Karen winked at Bonser and decided to have a little fun with Rowley. “Maybe we should start reducing your food intake. What do you say?”
“Steady on, chap.” Stephen flushed red with anger and added, “I’m not getting enough as it is.”
“Okay, Steve,” Karen laughed. “Cool your jets.”
“I don’t like being called Steve.”
“I don’t like being called chap either,” Karen sneered. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve got tits.”
Stephen tutted and shook his head in defeat. Before he could respond further, Stephen Bonser cocked his head to one side as if he had heard something. He peered over the concrete wall and said, “Erm ... guys. We’ve got company.”
Without uttering a word, Karen Bradley and Stephen Rowley made the short walk by Bonser’s side and also took a peek over, with Karen having to use the stepladders that were situated against the wall.
“What the fuck...?” Rowley scratched his head in confusion.
Karen began to laugh and said, “I’ve witnessed some weird scenes over these last few months, but this is the strangest one yet.”
There were two Snatchers shambling along the abandoned road that used to be a part of the original Colwyn Place, back in the civilised world. They were heading slowly to the wall, but it wasn’t because their eyes had seen something; there was no reason why they were heading that way.
They were staggering down the road, almost side by side, lost. One was a male on the right and the other was a female on the left. But what made this scenario even more ... incredible? humorous? surreal? ... was that the male was dressed in a now bloody Superman costume, the red cape still attached. The female appeared to be in a Wonder Woman costume, but it was hard to tell from a distance.
“You don’t see that everyday,” Stephen Bonser snickered.
“No, you don’t, chap.” Rowley had a small chuckle to himself and added, “I reckon they were at, or going to, a fancy dress party when they were attacked.”
“You think?” Karen spoke with a heavy lace of sarcasm in her words. “What makes you think that?”
“Well...” Rowley scrunched his face, confused, and began to explain, “They’re both wearing costumes for a start.”
“Stephen,” Bonser laughed. “Karen’s taking the piss.”
Stephen Rowley had a
quick peep at Karen and was angry and felt stupid once his eyes clocked her smirk. He cleared his throat, looked at Bonser, and moaned, “I suppose we better take care of them.”
“Probably best to wait until they reach the wall,” Bonser said. “Be safer that way, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” Rowley nodded in agreement.
“Honestly,” Karen sighed. “A couple of pussies, the pair of you.”
The twenty-three-year-old female moved further up the stepladders until she reached the top, and then climbed over the wall, dropping to the other side. She pulled out the machete and took a peep behind her to see the two Stephens gaping with wide eyes.
“It’s alright, lads,” she said. “I’ve got this. Besides,” she looked at Rowley, “don’t want to give your back any more hassle now, do we?”
Karen walked away, whilst the two men continued to look on.
Wonder Woman was the nearest one to Karen and was taken down with a strike to the side of its head. Karen front kicked its torso, still holding onto the machete with both hands, and the ghoul stumbled to the floor and the blade was free. She then brought her blade behind her head with both hands gripping the handle, bringing it down on the skull of Superman, the metal going through the skull like a hot knife through butter.
Karen removed the blade, walked away from the two lying Snatchers and headed back to the wall; the two men were still looking on. She placed the blade in her belt and ran at the wall, climbed over, and as soon as her feet slapped and landed on the other side, she winked at the two men and said, “Right, I’ve got clothes to wash.”
Both Stephens gazed as the woman entered her house. Bonser turned his head and could see that Rowley was still staring. Bonser gave him a nudge and was the first to speak.
“You okay?” Bonser began to chuckle. “I’ve seen that look before.”
“What look, chap?” Rowley shook his head comically, snapping out of his self-hypnosis.