Snatchers (Book 14): The Dead Don't Hate

by Whittington, Shaun

The two of them managed to get outside and Vince found it difficult pushing Stephen on the uneasy road.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Vince snapped.

  “I know, chap,” Rowley laughed. “It’s a bit tricky.”

  “Tricky? The sooner you can walk the better, fucking lump.”

  “Ah, don’t be like that, chap.” Rowley cleared his throat and circled his neck slowly. “I was losing weight before the accident, but with me being wheelchair bound it’s halted a little.”

  “Well, you’ll certainly lose a few pounds in the next few months. When the winter kicks in, we’ll all be on rations.”

  “I thought we were doing okay.”

  “We are,” said Vince. “But we need to start again come the spring. Supply runs will be useless after the winter. They’ll be fuck all left, unless we run out of petrol first.”

  Rowley waved and Vince looked up to see he was waving at Joanne. Vince was behind Rowley and blew her a kiss and she waved at him, making Stephen think she had waved at him twice, so he waved at her again, making Vince smile.

  Vince could see that Rowley was blushing and shook his head.

  “Eyes off, Stephen,” Vince said with a chuckle.

  “What, chap?”

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “She’s lovely, chap.” Stephen produced a smile and added, “Even back at Colwyn I thought she was nice.”

  “Well, you may as well hear it from me.” Vince coughed and felt a bit bashful for what he was about to say.

  “Hear what, chap?” Stephen turned around so he could get a good look at his helper.

  “Me and Joanne are seeing one another.” Vince flushed red when he revealed the announcement.

  Stephen screwed his face up and was finding it hard to compute what had just been said to him. Eventually the man in the wheelchair spoke.

  “You and Joanne?”

  “I know.” Vince smiled.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Lucky girl, isn’t she?”

  Rowley could tell by Vince’s face that he wasn’t joking, and wondered why a beautiful young woman would be attracted to a man like Vince.

  “It’s like a real life Beauty and the Beast tale, chap.”

  “Steady on, Stephen. Pickle said that earlier. I’m not that bad.”

  “What I mean is ... how the hell did you manage it?”

  Vince shrugged. “We like each other’s company. What can I say?”

  “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “That’s what she said the other night,” Vince laughed. “Come on, let’s go up to the gate and then go inside. It’s not that warm.”

  Vince turned and clocked Sadie Jenkins. She was five months pregnant and was a lovely woman that everyone liked.

  “Hiya guys,” she called over.

  “You okay, Sadie?” Vince said with a smile.

  She nodded and replied, “Heard the news?”

  “What? Someone actually fancies Stephen here?”

  “No,” she laughed. “Christine Lantern from Ward Five is pregnant.”

  “Oh, right.” Vince didn’t have a clue who Christine Lantern was. “I thought Karen had a stash of condoms at the clinic.”

  “She was seeing one of the guards and it must have just happened.”

  “Seeing one of the guards? You mean shagging him?”

  Sadie looked unhappy with Vince’s choice of words and said, “Well, yeah, I suppose.”

  “And it must have just happened? What do you mean by that?”

  Sadie patted her swollen belly gently and said, “There must be something in the air.”

  “Yeah, her legs by the sounds of things,” said Vince, and then walked away continuing to push Rowley. “See you later, Sadie.” Vince walked away with Stephen, leaving Sadie dumbfounded.

  “That wasn’t nice, chap,” Rowley remarked.

  Vince groaned and said, “Shurrup, Steve.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The four prisoners were passed a litre bottle of water to share. Jamo and another individual were present. The prisoners remained sitting for nearly ten minutes, before the side door to the garage opened, and Hutty stepped in with Marsden in tow. Marsden told the guy with his blade to Pickle’s throat to leave, as he was needed elsewhere.

  There was no expression on Marsden’s face and he nodded at Harry Branston as a gesture of a salutation.

  “Keeping well?” Marsden spoke with a straight face.

  “Been better,” was Pickle’s response.

  “Well, I’m sorry it’s come to this, Pickle,” Marsden began.

  “I’m sure yer are.”

  “Truly, I am.” Marsden nodded. “You could have killed me when we did that roadblock of ours, but you didn’t. I appreciate that, but Manson isn’t so forgiving.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “He has two hands that don’t work properly for the time being, Pickle.” Marsden released a breath out and tucked his lips in. “Driving his knife into his only working hand after Goldilocks over there put an arrow in his other was a tad strong.”

  “She saved ma life, yer know.”

  “I know, but stabbing his other hand was uncalled for.”

  Pickle looked to each side of him and could see Stephanie and David were despondent.

  “What about Richard?” Pickle asked. “Where is he?”

  “He’s fine. We put him somewhere safe.”

  “There was no need to beat the poor kid.”

  “We needed to know where you guys stayed.” Marsden elevated his shoulders and added, “And it worked once your young guy started singing.”

  Pickle never asked why they were so desperate to know where they lived. Did Marsden have plans to attack the place?

  Pickle guessed that Marsden didn’t have the amount of people that Drake had, and any kind of attack would make Marsden come off second best, but casualties on Drake’s side would still be felt and he didn’t want that. Maybe Marsden wanted to trade the prisoners for other things like vehicles or food. What was the release of Pickle and the rest worth? A pickup truck? Everything that was available in the clinic?

  “You know where we live, now we know where you live,” Marsden said, as if he could read Harry Branston’s mind. “Nothing sinister in it, but if we’re ever attacked, then we know where to go.”

  “They’re camps everywhere,” said Pickle. “If yer get attacked it doesn’t necessarily mean it was us.”

  “But you would have more reason to do so.”

  “We’re not like that.”

  “Everybody’s like that now.”

  Marsden looked at his three captors and clapped his hands together, making David jump.

  “Anyway, enough talking.” Richard Marsden folded his arms and whispered something to Jamo. Jamo nodded and told David to get to his feet.

  “What do yer want with him?” Pickle asked.

  “Just a quick chat in private. We’ll bring him back in five.”

  “Pickle,” David cried.

  Pickle winked at the scared teenager and told him not to make a fuss and that it’d be okay.

  Jamo and David left the garage.

  “We have mouths to feed in this small village of ours, and the van and supplies in it couldn’t have come at a better time, so we thank you for that.”

  Pickle half-laughed, and sarcastically responded, “Our pleasure.”

  *

  Young David shielded his eyes once he was outdoors. Once his vision began to restore, he could see a body with no head on the other side of the road, but no sign of Richard. It was a normal street he was out in, but the place seemed desolate and the end of the street to his left was the barrier that they were only twenty yards from. The barrier had three guards there and two cars were parked to stop unwanted visitors.

  “Right, David, isn’t it?” Jamo said.

  David looked up and nodded.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Jamo tried to appease the boy.


  “Okay,” David said nervously.

  “We’re just going to ask you a few questions, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “What facilities do you have at this hospital?”

  David seemed reluctant to say anything and Jamo warned David that he would get stabbed if he didn’t comply.

  “We have loads,” David said. He then revealed all, including the greenhouses, vehicles and the clinic, and Jamo seemed impressed by what he was being told.

  “The other thing I want to know is ... how important is Pickle to this group in Stafford?”

  David cried out, “Don’t touch Pickle. He’s one of the most respected people in there, and we’ve only been there a couple of weeks.”

  “Is he that influential?”

  David nodded.

  “So he’s highly thought of?”

  Again, David nodded, but spoke this time. “They all love him.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah.” David was beginning to relax and said further, “He’s a nice man, but he has a dark side to him.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “Once ... he cut a man’s throat to make a point.”

  “Okay, okay.” Jamo patted the youngster on the shoulder and told him he could go. “Right, go back inside and get Richard Marsden out here.”

  David nodded obediently and went back inside. Marsden stepped out seconds later.

  “I hope you were nice to him,” he laughed.

  “Of course.” Jamo smiled and added, “And he sung like a canary.”

  “So what’s the outcome?”

  “Just like you guessed.” Jamo scratched his head and added, “Pickle is one of the top guys. They seem to love him. And they have a shit load of supplies and medicine back at this hospital.”

  “So they wouldn’t be best pleased at this hospital if he was killed?”

  Jamo smirked. “You could say that? It would be something of a tragedy.”

  Marsden looked away and thought for a few seconds. “Right, get the two kids out of there and take them to the same place where we’ve put that Richard fella.”

  “What we doing with Pickle?”

  “Manson wants to see him before we do anything with him.”

  “Okay.”

  Marsden put his hand in his inside jacket pocket and pulled out some blue thin rope. “Tie him up first.”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Karen had been in the clinic for half an hour and was mulling over what Vince had told her about Drake. Karen was about to leave the area and confront Drake about what Mildred had seen, but a patient had arrived.

  The woman was Christine Keeling. She was a heavy woman in her fifties, a hypochondriac, and claimed that she had a headache. Two days ago she thought she had breast cancer, but Karen examined her and told her that she had pulled a muscle in her chest.

  “I was just about to leave,” Karen said to Christine.

  “Oh, I won’t stay long,” said Christine, and sat down opposite Karen and crossed her legs.

  Karen couldn’t hide her annoyance and asked Christine what was wrong with her.

  “Terrible headache,” she responded. “I’m really worried about it because my cousin died of a brain haemorrhage when she was just thirty-two, and my mother always suffered from migraines.”

  “You’re probably dehydrated,” Karen moaned. “Just try and drink as much as you can. I know we were a bit short yesterday, but this morning the guys brought a load of water back. The sooner this place gets a water supply set up, the better.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’ll give you some paracetamol to take.”

  “Is that it?” Christine huffed. “Is that all I’m getting?”

  “It’ll sort your head out.”

  “And what about my back?”

  “Your back?”

  “My back has also been killing me.” Christine began to rub the side of her back and winced.

  Karen thought she was play-acting and she had no time for people like Christine Keeling.

  She had heard a couple of days ago that Christine had hardly done a day’s work since she arrived at the hospital two months ago. She had been complaining about aches and pains since she arrived and she had managed to get away with doing nothing. Karen couldn’t understand how Drake let her get away with this, but there were rumours that she did sexual favours for Drake.

  “Just take what I’ve given you,” Karen said, trying to hide her annoyance, “and see me in a couple of days and we’ll see how you’re getting on.”

  “Fine,” Christine huffed and snatched at the painkillers that were sitting on the table. She stormed out of the ward and Karen shook her head at the cantankerous woman.

  “Right,” Karen spoke to herself. “Now I can go.”

  She stood up and left the ward, heading down the corridor, and was outdoors after a minute.

  She headed for the reception building and her destination was her old staff room where Drake usually hung out, but she managed to clock him outside, talking to two guys she didn’t recognise.

  He saw her hanging about and he excused himself from the two males, knowing that Karen wanted a word.

  He walked over to her, wearing a daft grin, and asked the twenty-three-year old, “What can I do for you, Karen?”

  “I need to ask you something.”

  He folded his arms. “I’m all ears.”

  Karen ran her tongue across her bottom lip, now unsure whether to bring the subject up now. “You killed Mr and Mrs Greendale from Amerton Farm. Why?”

  Drake couldn’t hide the surprise on his face and wondered how the fuck she knew.

  She could tell by his face that he had no idea how she knew, and she decided to come clean.

  “Mildred was in contact with the woman as she lay dying. Mildred said that she told her that a skinny man, minutes ago, had attacked her and her husband.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh indeed.”

  Drake decided to tell the truth. Karen had been straight with him, so it was the least he could do.

  “They refused to give up the chickens and decided to stay behind.”

  “So you killed them?”

  Drake nodded and seemed uncomfortable. “An argument broke out and I lashed out. What can I say?”

  “Drake,” Karen shook her head, “that’s fucked up.”

  “They said they were up for the move and then we travel all that way and they had changed their mind. I was pissed off, and I thought: those chickens would be a great asset for the camp, especially as they have three cocks and more could get produced.”

  “Well, you didn’t kill the woman straightaway. She was still alive when Mildred got to her.”

  “I thought a stab to the gut would be enough.” Drake hunched his shoulders.

  “So you just killed them, made up a story that people had attacked them, and then walked away?”

  “Pretty much.” He nodded. “They were old anyway.”

  Karen stared in shock and gulped hard. She eventually spoke and said, “Sometimes I wonder what kind of leader you are.”

  “The kind that puts his people first. They were an old couple. Going back empty handed wasn’t an option. They’ve had their life.”

  “Pretty savage, Drake.” Karen shook her head. “That’s quite an ageist attitude to have.”

  “That’s me.”

  “So when people get to a certain age in this place you’re gonna get rid of them?”

  “No, don’t be silly, but I’m not bringing OAPs in that can’t contribute. I don’t want passengers in this place.”

  “Like Christine Keeling?” Karen said.

  “Christine’s situation is different.”

  “Because she tugs you off now and again, is that it?”

  “No.” Drake snapped and was starting to become annoyed.

  “I hear she hasn’t done a day’s work since she got here. Maybe she drops to her knees for you, now and
again, and smiles like a doughnut, as Vince would say.”

  “It’s nothing like that.”

  “So why soft on her, and harder on others? That’s not good leadership Drake, is it?”

  “I’m doing my best, Karen.” Drake ran his hand over his head and groaned, “Christine has issues with her health. Now, is there anything else you have to say?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  Drake put his hands up and said, “If this next rant of yours is going to be about Pickle and the others, don’t bother.”

  “You can’t leave them out there.”

  “I can. And I will.”

  “They might need our help.”

  “They’ll return. You mark my words. Okay?”

  Karen didn’t respond, turned on her heels, and then walked away with large angry strides.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Paul Dickson wasn’t sure how long he had been staring into space outside his cabin. He guessed hours and did what he always did, and re-lived the old days.

  He heard faint voices and looked over to the farmhouse in the distance and saw two figures leave the place.

  This had been the first time he had seen people around that area since he had been here, and guessed that they were just people passing through. So he wasn’t seen, he lay on his front and continued to watch.

  The two figures were male and Paul could see that they looked like big men, muscular. A third man appeared from out of the farmhouse and could be seen dragging a female out of the place and taking her into a barn. Two minutes later, the man left the barn without the woman and went over to his two pals and all three appeared to be having a laugh with one another. They all started to make hand gestures, pointing behind them and to their left. To Paul it looked like they were planning on doing a trip.

  He didn’t know for sure, but Dickson was convinced that the men had taken over the house and it wasn’t theirs in the first place, but who was the woman in the barn?

  As long as they don’t come up here, he thought.

  He continued to look, convinced that the three men were bad ones, and decided to get a closer look at them, if that was possible. Before he could move, one went back inside and then quickly returned with a rucksack on his back.

  The three conversed for a minute and then all headed to the left of the house and appeared to be leaving. Looking for supplies, Paul thought.