She pulled the car forwards as soon as there was a sufficient gap, and when she looked in the rear-view mirror she could see Lee waving at her from the cab before he was pulled out by one of the guards. He was in trouble, but Karen was thankful for his help.
As soon as she was over the brow of the hill she went past a primary school, then went by Armitage Shanks that was to the left and the Swan pub on the right, where she had been once for her friend's twenty-first birthday celebrations. It was so weird.
She could see a parked car as she veered round a bend and guessed that it was the other guard, Trevor, who had been vilified by Vince for sleeping on the job. She took a quick peep to her left and saw that Trevor was staring into space, bored out of his brains. As predicted, once she zoomed past his vehicle he never gave chase, and she went under the bridge, passing a church on her left. She then went by places like Kings Bromley and Alrewas.
As soon as she reached a village, of name she didn't know, she noticed a couple of Snatchers stumbling in the road, two females. She eased off the gas and swerved around the creatures, and once she puffed out a breath of relief a hand touched her shoulder. She screamed out, lost control of the car and suddenly braked.
Something was in the back.
*
It was lunchtime, and Vince licked his dry lips that hadn't touched water for hours. All four were sitting on the floor, in a circle, and were silent throughout most of their ordeal until Harry Beresford began complaining about needing the toilet. As soon as they heard one of the doors to the hangar swing open, the tied-up group gasped and Pickle and Shaz could see Gavin and a woman with a limp heading towards them.
Vince and the youngster couldn't see anything, as they were facing the opposite way, but kept quiet as they heard the feet get nearer.
"Recognise them?" Gavin asked the ginger-haired woman.
She nodded, and walked around them slowly. She pointed at Vince, Shaz and Pickle. "I recognise these lot. Where's that bitch, and the fucker that threw me down the stairs?"
Nobody gave her an answer.
"They're a shy bunch." She began to laugh.
She walked around the tied-up group twice, very slowly, trying to use intimidation. Apart from the young man, the other three looked cool under pressure, and she guessed that this was due to weeks of surviving out there. She released a breath that was soaked in impatience and glared at Pickle. Pickle glared back. She was the one that finally blinked, and eventually broke away from the gaze.
She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a coin. She flicked the coin in the air, and once she slapped it on the back of her hand she asked Pickle, "Heads or tails?"
"What?" Pickle had no idea what was happening. Was this some kind of sick joke?
She stared at him blankly, and repeated herself. "Heads or tails?"
"Look," began Pickle, "I don't know what kind o' game yer playing here—"
Gavin threw his boot into Pickle's midriff, forcing the man to groan. "Just answer the question."
"Heads!" Vince yelled, knowing that Pickle could be struck again if he never gave them a response.
"Yes, it's heads." she said. She then pointed at Vince, while Pickle began to cough.
"Heads," he said with no hesitation.
She tossed the coin with her right thumb and forefinger, and with her right hand she slapped it on the back of her left. She took a peep and said, "Well done."
She tossed the coin again and looked at Shaz. "Heads or tails?"
"Heads." There was no hesitation from Sharon Bailey either. What was the point?
The ginger-haired woman looked at the coin and nodded. She then walked a few steps around the group and glared at young Harry. "Heads or tails, young man?"
Harry shrugged. He had no idea what this was about and spoke without thinking, "Tails."
"If you guess correctly," she began, "then I will go round again until one of you guesses wrong."
"And then what?" asked Shaz.
"And then I'll ask a question. If you give me a satisfying answer, I'll release you all."
"Bullshit," Vince yelled.
Ignoring Vince, she continued, "If you refuse to answer my question or you give me an answer and I believe you're lying..."
"Then what?" Pickle wasn't sure he wanted to know.
She ignored him and tossed the coin. She looked up at young Harry and said, "It's heads."
"So what happens now?" Harry shivered in fright, now that he had guessed incorrectly.
"You'll be asked a question. Stand up!" she yelled at the captured group, and motioned to some of her men to help them up. "Come. Let me show you something."
They were chaperoned to the end of the hangar, and once they got outside their eyes squinted at the daylight. The day was murky but light enough to tease their eyesight. They continued to walk until they got to a shed. It was the same shed that Vince and Pickle had walked past and heard a selection of noises from inside. It was a huge shed, almost the same size of a bungalow. It had two large doors and all that was keeping them from being opened was a huge padlock.
"It may not look much," the bearded guard said to the group. "But it's solid."
The four captives were told to stop walking, and they did as they were told. Including Gavin and his sister, they had five guards keeping them in line.
"What's in there?" asked Vince.
Gavin laughed and said, "Why don't you take a look."
Vince strolled to the doors of the shed and could see a spy-hole. It was the same size as a two pence, and with his hands still uncomfortably tied behind his back he crouched to take a look inside. His peering seemed to have taken forever, and then he suddenly got to his feet and went back over to the group.
"What is it?" Shaz was the first to badger Vince. "What did you see?"
"Vince," Pickle impatiently snarled. "What's in there?"
"About a hundred Rotters," he mumbled.
"I think we counted seventy-one," Gavin intervened. He turned to the group and explained, "We spent the first few weeks scavenging, robbing other people as well as other things. We came across this by chance about a week ago. There were a few workers trapped inside the hangar, now dead, and many of the dead walking around the grounds. The shed was open when we first found it. I think it was a shed that was used for storage, but we managed to get inside the hangar, despite the dead being around. It was tough, and we lost two men trying to get in, but seventy-odd of the dead, when they're spread out, isn't too bad. You just need to be quick and sharp."
"Why didn't yer just kill 'em all?" Pickle asked.
Gavin smiled and thought it was a dumb question to ask, considering that the man opposite him was also a survivor in week five. "Killing seventy of the dead takes a lot of ammo, and is also a waste of ammo. And killing them by any other method is just too dangerous and tiring. We knew that we needed to remove the danger outside. Then we could start planning on finding a safe refuge, so we could start transporting as much as food as we can to our new digs, with no danger from these dead freaks."
"Should have stayed in the hangar." Vince spoke up.
"You have to look at the long-term. This hangar is freezing during the night, so just imagine what it'd be like in the winter. No! We needed to find a proper home, and we did after we removed the danger around the hangar."
"You mean the home that belonged to the family that you killed?" Shaz kept her head lowered when she released her verbal statement.
"In fairness, we did ask politely at first, but..."
"And how did you get these Rotters in the shed?"
"We had to sacrifice one of our guys." Gavin said, with little emotion in his voice. "His name was Ed, and he was useless anyway, a hindrance. So we stabbed him a few times in the legs and quickly dragged him into the back of the shed." Gavin then began to laugh as if he was reminiscing about the episode from the other week. "You wanna see these fuckers. They came from everywhere, and some are a lot quicker than they look. Anyway, Ed was ripped
to shit and screamed a lot, and we managed to get seventy-plus of the dead in the shed. The remaining eight that never went inside were taken out by my men."
Vince said, "I noticed they're dressed the same."
"That's because they were all working here. They're all wearing blue boiler suits." Gavin smirked and pointed at Vince. "And I thought you were the clever one."
"No," Pickle said with a straight face, "that's me."
"So," Gavin clapped his hands together and looked up in thought, "we load that wagon there," he pointed at the HGV that had Eddie Stobart lettering on the side of it, "and we stack them with the only two working diesel trucks that are left."
"Gavin," the ginger-haired woman, who still had yet to reveal her name to Vince's group, spoke up, "I'm getting bored of this fucking speech of yours. Shall we just get a move on?"
"Of course." He nodded at one of his men, and the guard walked around the back of the shed and began tapping his shotgun against the wood. The group could hear the dead groaning and clambering to the back of the shed, away from the main doors.
"Right," Gavin looked at Harry Beresford. "It's you that has the question, and I need to make this clear: I will ask this question only once, and will only accept your first answer."
"Okay." Harry shuddered.
Gavin leaned towards young Harry, so that his face was only inches away and asked, "Where-is-your-camp?"
The youngster looked frightened and turned around to stare at Vince, Pickle and Shaz, but neither one of them made eye-contact. The silence lasted for seconds until Harry bravely said, "I can't tell you."
"That's absolutely fine." Gavin patted the youngster on the shoulder and added, "I admire your loyalty." Gavin then looked over to his guards and nodded at them.
Pickle, Vince and Shaz were pushed to the ground by one of them, making the task of getting back to their feet very difficult with their hands behind their back. The other guard then grabbed a hold of young Harry and dragged the frightened youngster towards the main doors of the shed. Gavin's sister was by the doors, looking through the hole, while the man round the back was still knocking, drawing them towards him and to the end of the shack.
The ginger-haired woman announced, "Quickly. It's clear for now." She then opened the door and the strong man threw Harry in. The doors were then shut and locked, and the man from the back of the shed stopped knocking and ceased to distract the dead.
With their hands behind their backs, not one of them could cover their ears once young Harry began to scream. The slamming was heard as the young boy threw himself at the doors, and as more high-pitched screams assaulted their ears Pickle and co could only imagine that poor Harry was being pulled apart like a cooked chicken. Shaz was in tears, Vince was angry, but Pickle tried his utmost to keep it together.
Once the screaming stopped, it appeared that the death of seventeen-year-old Harry Beresford was confirmed.
Gavin crouched down and spoke to the group. "I'll be back in one hour, and you will be asked the same question. No more games." He pointed at Shaz. "If you don't give me an answer, or you give me one that I'm not happy with..." He looked over to the shed. "Well...you know what awaits."
"This is no' right!" Pickle screamed. "He was just a young boy. We're no threat to yer. Yer paranoid."
"It's my paranoia that's kept us alive." Gavin then walked away, then stopped to turn around. "And by the way, I was originally going to release you. But I can't allow a violent group free, especially when members of the same group have assaulted my sister. What kind of brother would that make me?"
"All that stuff happened before Jack joined the camp. He told me all about it." Vince was quick to respond, and his wrists were burning as he tried to free his hands. There was so much anger inside of him, he wasn't feeling any pain. "He was with a friend, trying to survive, and then your sister and your men barged into his son's house and he fought them off. What else was he supposed to do?"
Gavin smiled. "But you were all together as a group when your lady-friend broke my sister's nose."
"We need to eradicate any danger to ourselves." The bearded man had been silent for a while, but now had broken his silence. "We heard that a gang, a family from Little Haywood has been rampaging, and if we come across them, then there could be trouble."
"These guys were apparently bad fuckers even before the apocalypse," Gavin added. "And with Little Haywood being a tiny place, it wouldn't surprise me if they were already in Rugeley. Another reason for us to move to the middle of nowhere."
"I don't get it," Pickle couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Why can't we all get along? Why does it have to be this way? Why can't we work together?"
"People are working together," Gavin's sister threw her opinion into the discussion. "That's why these camps are being formed. Another few months and they'll be camps everywhere, attacking one another for supplies, while we'll be in our country house, in the middle of nowhere. You can't keep robbing people, because what are you gonna do when there's nothing left to rob? Why do you think we're here? This stuff will keep us going for months, and no one's going to take it from us."
"It's survival of the fittest, and fuck everybody else." Gavin cackled, "I'll see you all in one hour. Take them back inside." Gavin strolled away and jumped into his car to leave the premises.
Chapter Thirty Four
The car crawled along the road and turned left at the junction. It then turned into another barren road, and Paul told Kyle that they were going to pull over once they reached the next bus stop. Paul pulled the car in and had a look around. Farmland was to the right of him, as well as a large hut that was probably used as storage for farm equipment. The edge of a new set of woods was to his left.
"Daddy, I need the toilet."
"So do I, son." Paul pointed to the side of him. "We'll just take a pee at the side of the road."
"No, daddy. I need a stinky."
"Another one?" Paul then remembered that his son wanted a 'stinky' back at the house, but he never had chance to have one because of the Murphy incident.
Paul sighed, but he knew these moments were going to happen. He thought about his 'staying out in the open' theory. Maybe it'd be more advantageous to drive to the next village and try somebody's house, or even check out his mum's place. Maybe he even should go back to his own small town and see if someone would put them up. The Murphy mob were rampaging through the place, but after four weeks of lawlessness, didn't all towns and cities have their own gangs of mercenaries? With being cooped up in the luxury of his own home for four weeks, it was hard to answer that question.
He looked at the dark blue sky and then glanced at his Citizen watch. He had three hours before darkness arrived. He opened the car door and walked with Kyle to the side of the road.
"I forgot toilet roll, squirt," Paul tried to explain. "So let me pee first, then have your stinky in the woods and I'll look for some big leaves to clean you up."
A minute had passed, and after Paul had emptied his bladder he walked Kyle further into the woods for his poo. The father took a fearful look around, and watched as his frightened boy pulled his trousers down and squatted to the floor. He shot straight back up and began crying.
Feeling stressed, Paul sighed impatiently, "What is it?"
"What if a fly goes up my bum?"
"It won't."
"But—"
"Just do it. No arguments."
Paul walked around with the claw hammer tucked into his belt, and started pulling off leaves for his son. He looked behind him to see his boy was still doing his business, and continued to select more large leaves.
"Daddy!"
"Won't be a minute, son." Paul had his left hand full of leaves and began picking a few more with his right.
"Daddy!"
"Give me a minute, Kyle."
Kyle cried, "I can see a monster."
Paul quickly turned around to see that Kyle wasn't seeing things. A solitary being stumbled along the road, passing the car, but it ne
ver saw father and son who were ten feet into the woodland. Paul crept over and began wiping Kyle. "Just keep quiet. Don't say anything," Paul whispered.
He pulled his son's trousers up and they knew they had to wait for it to pass before they could leave the condensed woods. Kyle took a step backwards and stood on a branch creating a loud snapping noise. Paul swivelled his head round to gently reprimand his son, but the snap had already done the damage.
Kyle pointed with a tremulous finger, and Paul looked to where the finger was pointing. The ghoul staggered into the woods and was heading straight for them.
Nervous as hell, Paul took out his hammer with his shaking hands, told Kyle to stay put, then walked to meet their aggressor. Paul slowly trudged through the greenery and then stopped walking, waiting for the creature to stumble nearer. He looked at the rotten male with disgust, and swung the hammer back, ready to strike. Weary of the dangers of getting blood in his eye with a weapon like a hammer, there was little hesitation in Paul because his son was in danger.
He told Kyle to look away and made his first strike. The flat part of the hammer struck the thing at the side of its head. It stumbled a little, but was still standing. The hideous-looking being then groaned and grabbed a hold of Paul around the throat, making Kyle cry out. Paul released a shriek, dropped the hammer, then grabbed its shoulders to push the thing back, but it was stronger than it looked.
Still scuffling, and Kyle crying behind him, Paul and the creature both fell to the ground. Paul then pushed his hand upwards against the creatures throat, trying not to get bit, and could see white maggots spilling out of its chops. Paul turned his head to the side, trying to avoid these insects, and retched a little when three of the ghastly things fell into his mouth. He now used both hands to push away the decomposed being, and managed to push it off of him altogether.
He quickly got to his feet, ran to his son and told him to follow him.
Snatchers: Volume Two (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 4-6) Page 41