Where are they?
A scraping noise from directly behind her, made her stop.
Turning slowly, she held the mobile phone in her outstretched arm to provide her with light.
The light cast by its screen cut only slightly through the dimness, but managed to reveal, the slowly moving and shuffling feet approaching her.
Raising the telephone upwards, it fell from her hands as her hair was grasped from above.
Raising her hands, she grabbed at the arm of her assailant, the wrist she managed to grab hold of, feeling ice cold to the touch.
Unable to make out her attacker’s features, she tried to stand, before another hand ripped at her cotton top.
The hand wrenched hard, grabbing a tight hold of the top, catching the front of the lace bra, the clasp breaking easily, leaving her large breasts fully exposed to the cold night air.
Oh god, not like this! It’s happening for real, don’t let it happen please!
Pulled forward further by the strong grip on her hair, she made out the lank hair of a man, as his head lowered to her chest.
Managing to raise her leg enough, she kicked out at him.
Jesus, he’s pulling my fucking hair out!
Releasing one hand from the grip on his wrist, she pushed at his head, to move it away from her body.
His spare hand drew close, scratching deeply at her face.
She let out a cry of shock and pain, feeling his fingers scraping open the flesh of her cheek.
Pulling her closer, she smelt the stale, sweaty stench of his body.
Glancing down as she fought to push him away she saw, though this was an abomination of her darkest fantasies, her dark nipples stood out fully, swollen and hard.
Swiping at him, she struck his face with her fist as hard as she could manage.
The impact did not affect him, as he continued to claw at her.
In agony with the pain emanating from her hair and her face, she continued to rain blows upon him to no effect.
She could not find any more strength to push his head away from nearing her breast, his grasp on her far too strong and relentless.
She could not stop his smell from pervading her senses and her ears were filled with the sound of the horrible moaning and the awful chattering noise.
What’s that noise? Why doesn’t anybody come to help me? Why can’t anybody hear me scream? Why…why me?
A thousand thoughts and questions ran through her mind simultaneously, as his mouth drew nearer to her right nipple, opening wide.
She closed her eyes tightly, so she did not have to witness this stranger, this bastard, molesting her breast.
Suddenly, her eyes opening wide, she opened her mouth wider than she thought possible, screaming into the night.
The sound pouring forth from her mouth became a pitiful wail of unbearable anguish, as she felt his teeth dig deeply around the dark areola surrounding her nipple.
Biting tightly, until his teeth snapped apart the soft flesh, he wrenched his head backwards, tearing away the soft flesh of her nipple within the grip of his teeth.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The rain, earlier a steady, light drizzle, became a heavy deluge as they exited the outskirts of the city.
Jake switched the wipers on to the fastest setting, attempting to keep the windscreens clear, as the visibility rapidly deteriorated.
Abigail, in the rear of the cab alongside Eve, chatted in low tones to not awaken Nate, asleep in another of the rear seats.
Sat in the passenger seat, Stumpy stared intently through the cabs large window. The large halogen lights of their vehicle, illuminating the busy road they were slowly navigating, through the heavy rain and oncoming darkness.
Repeatedly attempting to get through to the emergency services on Pats mobile, his efforts proved fruitless.
Stopping at a couple of Police stations, prove equally fruitless, each one they visited, appearing absent of any staff.
Abigail had mentioned trying to return to the Waterside station, but Stumpy insisted they would have better luck calling at a station away from the city itself.
“So, are you and Eve?” Jake asked quietly, slightly nodding his head at the rear of the cab.
“No, nothing like that. We have been the best of friends for years. She’s like a sister to me,” Stumpy replied, smiling.
“You’ve got a really good lad there,” he continued.
“We certainly have. He is coping with all of this a lot better than I could have hoped, given the circumstances.”
“Kids these days have been brought up on computer games and horror movies, so they’ve probably seen these things a thousand times on the screen,” Stumpy exclaimed.
Jake stared ahead, the traffic looked horrendous. He felt glad the tanks in the horsebox were nearly full of diesel, having no idea how long their journey would take, with the traffic so bad.
“But it’s not a fantasy movie, or a game, is it?”
Stumpy shook his head slightly.
“I can’t begin to imagine how this came about or what it is, but no, it’s not a fantasy and we are not going to wake up tomorrow in our cosy beds, to find that it has been nothing but a bad dream.”
Remaining in silence, they stared from the windows, the rain continuing to beat upon the windscreen, wave after wave lashing against the glass.
Abigail’s mobile telephone began to ring. Answering the call, she spoke quietly for a few minutes.
“Shit,” she exclaimed, ending the call.
“What is it Love?” Jake asked.
“It was the bed and breakfast we were heading to.”
“What do you mean were?”
“That was the owner,” she said, leaning through the large gap in between the seats, “the other family they were waiting on have just showed up.”
“No room left at the inn?” Stumpy asked.
Nodding, Abigail sighed.
“So, what’s plan B love?” She asked Jake.
“I believe we’re driving plan B,” he replied, “we’ll look for a large carpark or anywhere else we can park up and spend the night here. That’s if it’s okay with you guys?”
“No argument from me,” Stumpy replied, turning to the rear of the cab, “Eve?”
“That’s if you wouldn’t mind us staying?” Eve asked.
Abigail reclined into her seat and placed her hand upon Pats arm.
“Of course, we wouldn’t mind you staying here with us,” Abigail replied, placing her hand on Pats arm, “we could try and book into a hotel for the evening, but I don’t see the point when there’s more than enough room in here.”
“We can keep trying to telephone the police and see if we can find a station that is actually open tomorrow.” Jake said, relishing the thought of pulling the vehicle over.
The lower half of his back felt as if made of shards of glass, as he sat in the driver’s seat.
“There’s a nature park not far from here,” Eve said, staring through the window, “there’s a couple of big car parks there we could park in.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jake responded.
Eve providing him the name of the park, Jake typed the details into the navigation system.
The traffic, stationary again, gave him ample time to locate the correct tabs on the large screen.
“No need for that,” she said, “I know where it is. I used to take my son there when he was younger.”
Momentarily, she thought she would cry at the mention of her son.
Placing her hand on her breast pocket, she touched the part where his photograph lay, to bring her strength.
“Go a couple more miles until you come to a crossroads with a pub on the right-hand side. Take the left turn there. I’ll let you know when we get nearer.”
They continued further along the heavily congested road at a snail’s pace, until eventually they reached the crossroads.
“Turn left here,” Eve instructed.
Indicating left,
he steered the huge vehicle into the slip road.
After another fifteen minutes’ drive, they approached a road sign, indicating the nature reserve lay ahead at the next left turning.
Jake doubted he could turn the horsebox into the entrance but, cautiously he managed it. With the volume of traffic ahead, stuck at the lights, he possessed enough time to manoeuvre the large vehicle into a safe enough position to pass through the entrance.
The horsebox filled the whole width of the lane they drove along, the branches of the large trees lining the side of the lane, scraping alongside it.
Eventually passing over a small bridge, they found themselves driving over numerous speed bumps in a huge carpark adjacent to a manmade reservoir.
“I guess we just park up here then,” Jake said, looking onto the water.
“A bit like camping,” Nate added, awoken from his slumber.
“Five-star camping by the looks of this thing,” Stumpy said.
“Not very busy,is it?” Jake said, bringing the vehicle to a stop, facing the dark waters of the reservoir and looking around the large expanse of the carpark through the sheets of rain.
“It used to be really busy with the likes of boy racers,” Eve replied, “but the police started to clamp down on them, hence all of the speed bumps.”
“Can’t say that I felt any of them in this thing,” Stumpy said, smiling.
Eve, Stumpy and Nate exited the cab, allowing Nates parents to figure out how to activate the side pods.
Taking shelter at the front of the huge cab, Eve tried to light a cigarette. After a few attempts of her lighter, she managed to light the tip of it, held between her long, painted nails.
“Looks like one of them Transformer things in the movie,” Stumpy said to Nate, standing with their backs to the passenger side of the cab, shielded from the downpour as they watched the pods of the horse box expand outwards from the giant chassis, “what do think it will turn into?”
“Knowing my luck, a bloody big robot horse,” Nate replied, grinning.
Chuckling, Stumpy made his way to the front of the cab where Eve stood, mildly shielded from the torrential downpour.
“Get around this side love,” he said to her.
“No Hun, I don’t want to be rude by getting smoke everywhere.”
“We are in a massive carpark in the middle of nowhere,” Nate said, smiling at her from the side of the cab, “so I don’t really think it matters.”
Smiling, she walked to the passenger side, the rear of her clothes soaked through to the skin.
“You’re bloody drenched!” Stumpy exclaimed.
“You are the King of stating the bloody obvious as always Hun.” she replied, she stumped her cigarette out on the wet tarmac.
The pods came to a rest, fully extended from the side of the horse box.
“Opening one of side doors guys,” Abigail said, winding down the passenger side window.
They waited, vast waves of rain streaking overhead, the vehicle’s side protecting them from the worst of the elements, until they heard a latch unlocking from one of nearby doors.
“Did anybody book a room?” Jake asked, leaning from the doorway, opening the door outwards.
The trio made their way quickly from the rain to the doorway.
“I won’t put the steps down,” Jake said, “as I’ll lock the door as soon as you are all in.”
“Looks fancier than my hallway,” Stumpy said, helping Eve step up into the vehicle.
“Abigail said this is called a ‘grooms room’,” Jake replied.
“I take it the bride gets the best room then?” Eve asked, smiling at him, climbing into the interior of the box.
Returning the smile, Jake noticed for the first time, how attractive she was. Even with her raven hair drenched over her shoulders, she looked gorgeous.
He held out a hand to help Stumpy up, closely followed by Nate, before closing the door behind them.
“Wow,” Nate exclaimed as they entered the lounge of the horse box, looking around a room not out of place in a luxury hotel.
With all four pods now open, the spacious inside, far beyond what Jake originally envisaged.
The lounge area possessed enough seating on its leather sofas and seats for several people, underneath which lay a beautiful, waxed, heated wooden floor.
Entrances led to the rear of the cab, and the kitchen and sleeping areas, in addition to a door leading to a small corridor linking them to the rear horse area.
A massive plasma television dominated one of the walls of the living area.
“We can put that on after we’ve had a bite to eat and a chance to freshen up,” Jake said.
“Eve, you’re drenched to the skin!” Abigail exclaimed, entering the lounge via the small doorway leading to the cab.
“My own fault for being a slave to nicotine,” Eve replied, smiling.
“Here, follow me into the back where we have thrown our things. Obviously, you are a lot taller than me,” Abigail said, thinking ‘God, I wish I’d a chest like yours’, “but I’m sure we can sort you out a change of clothes.”
“Oh Abigail, please, I couldn’t do that,” Eve replied.
“Don’t be silly Hun, just follow me.”
The two of them made their way into the rear of the vehicle.
Jake made his way to the kitchen area, closely followed by Stumpy, whilst Nate made his way into one of the smaller sleeping areas.
Within half an hour, Jake placed a few pans on one of the ceramic stoves located within the granite work surface.
“Sausage casserole okay?” he asked Stumpy.
“That would be fantastic.”
“You and Eve aren’t vegetarians or anything like that are you?”
“God no. I’m quite adventurous with my taste in food,” he said, smiling, “and let’s just say Eve’s diet, leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Why’s that?” Jake asked, placing small amounts of garlic into one of the pans.
“Oh, she’d eat anything,” Stumpy replied, leaning against a worktop, “She’s like the Queen of junk food.”
“But if you don’t mind me saying so,” Jake said, stirring the garlic into the casserole, “she has a good figure on her, so she must work out or something?”
“Eve? Work out? Never in a million years. She just has one of them constitutions and metabolisms. Plus, smoking like a bloody chimney helps…”
“What was that about smoking like a chimney?” Eve asked entering the kitchen, closely followed by Abigail.
She wore one of the sports vests Abigail’s used when riding on nice days, Jake ensuring his eyes did not fall upon her large breasts, but not helping but stare at her tattoos.
Both her shoulders were covered in colourful ink. Her left shoulder adorned with a Dragon and her right shoulder with a Koi Carp, both amidst cherry blossoms and swirls of what appeared smoke or clouds.
“Don’t mind my husband,” Abigail said, giggling at her husband’s open-mouthed gaze, “he has a large back-piece himself and, honestly, he doesn’t normally ogle women.”
“I own and run my own pub, so I became used to the stares of men a long time ago,” Eve said.
Jake could feel his cheeks redden.
“I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t…”
“Only messing with you,” Eve interrupted, with a broad smile and a sensual laugh, “no offence taken or meant, and whatever it is you are cooking smells delicious.”
Abigail walked to where Jake stood near the bubbling pans.
“He makes a mean casserole don’t you love?” she asked, placing her arm around his waist.
At Abigail’s request, as they were their ‘guests’, Stumpy and Eve made their way into the small dining area, seating themselves upon one of the several dining chairs at the table.
Nate walked in a few minutes later, having changed into a dry sweat shirt and track suit bottoms.
“This is an amazing place, isn’t it?” Eve asked.
�
��It’s great,” Nate replied, sitting opposite her, “I’m glad I picked that room. It’s got an Xbox One already rigged up.”
Smiling at him sweetly, Eve felt pangs in her stomach, a hollow feeling of emptiness, knowing this was solely because she missed her son.
Having no idea where he was, she knew deep in her heart that ‘what he was’, being one of those people committing vile acts of violence.
She remembered clearly seeing the thick tufts of hair in Alex’s hands.
Brad’s hair.
Is that why I’m not breaking down the doors of every Police Station until I find somebody? Am I scared of what they’ll find when they find him? If they find him?
Her train of thought became interrupted by Abigail, placing two large bowls of steaming hot casserole on the table in front of her and Stumpy.
“I’m sorry, I was miles away,” Eve apologised.
“That’s okay,” Abigail replied, sitting at the table, “I think that we’ve all got a lot on our minds at the moment.”
Jake walked in, holding a bowl in each hand.
“That’s yours son,” he said, placing the bowl in front of Nate, “and this is yours love.”
He placed the other bowl in front of his wife.
Returning to the kitchen, Jake returned with his own.
He sat down and they enjoyed their delicious meal whilst passing small talk, Eve answering questions about owning a pub and Abigail in turn answering many questions from her and Stumpy about owning horses.
“Have either of you ever ridden before?” She asked.
“I guess you could call me a novice,” Eve replied, “believe it or not, I was actually in the Pony club and rode until I was about fourteen.”
Abigail’s face lit up, Nate and his father rolling their eyes in a genial, exaggerated manner.
“Not another one,” Nate said, placing a forkful of casserole into his mouth.
“Manners Nate,” Abigail rebuked.
“He’s just playing,” Eve said, laughing along with Nate, leaning over to give him a gentle rub on his arm, “May I see your horses when we have finished eating?”
“Of course, you can! It would be my pleasure,” she replied with a broad smile.
After finishing their dinner, Abigail and Nate took Eve into the rear of the vehicle, where the stalls were situated to see the horses.
The Infected Chronicles (Book 1): Origin Page 29