Pickle shook his head. “I don’t want any nasty surprises. And besides, if there’re people inside and need help, they can come back with us.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be Craig’s job now?”
Pickle ignored Kindl’s complaining; he told the guys that they should all stick together and the toilets were going to be checked first.
They tried the gents and the disabled toilet first, but found them empty and spotless. There was a sign on the back of the disabled door. Some come here to sit and think. Others come here to shit and stink.
“Classy place,” Pickle muttered.
“Ever did it in a disabled toilet before?” Vince asked Pickle in a whisper.
“Not now, Vince,” Pickle huffed and moved on to the female toilets.
Pickle was the first to enter, but stopped suddenly, making Vince bump into him, and Roger and Peter doing the same to Vince.
“What is it?” Roger asked from behind.
“Whoa,” was the only word that came out of Pickle’s mouth once he looked around the place.
There were blood smears up the wall, on the floor, and there was also blood in one of the three sinks, and a bloodied handprint on one of the mirrors above the end sink.
“Some serious menstrual shit has been happening in here,” Vince joked.
Roger leaned over and whispered to Pickle, “Is he always like this?”
“No,” said Pickle with a straight face, and added, “Sometimes he can be quite offensive.”
All four took a few more steps inside and stood in the sink area. They stayed motionless once their ears picked up movement from the end cubicle.
“I’ll go check it out.” Vince left the three guys standing, careful where he stepped, and checked the door of the cubicle. It was locked. He placed his ear to the door and the moaning and snarling began once the sound of Vince’s breathing could be heard. Vince looked over to the three males.
“One of the dead?” Roger asked Kindl.
Vince nodded. “Either that or someone is severely constipated. Best to just leave. It’s going nowhere.”
Peter turned to Pickle and said gently, “So where to next?”
“Yer know the place better than I do,” said Pickle.
Peter released a breath out and said, “Okay. We’ll check out the kitchens and upstairs. Have no idea where the cellar is.”
“We’ll find it.”
The four individuals left the toilets and went by the bar to go through a flip door that had a circle window. As predicted, there was nothing in the kitchen. No food. No ghouls.
Pickle went behind the bar and headed for upstairs, leading the way.
As soon as the four of them reached the dusky landing, the guys were greeted with four doors that were all open. Each guy checked a room each. Roger and Peter had checked a bedroom each, Pickle had the bathroom, and Vince was in the living room.
Pickle, Roger and Peter returned to the landing and could see Vince in the living room, a few yards inside, motionless and staring.
The three men stood behind Vince and gazed at what he was looking at.
There was an overweight woman, dressed in black pants and a matching bra, standing in the corner of the room with her back to the men.
Vince began to giggle, baffling Roger and Peter, and released a sharp whistle, making the dead woman turn around. Her black greasy hair hung over her rotten face, her white and bruised-looking belly hung over her panties, and her bottom lip had been ripped away, revealing her yellow and black teeth.
Vince gave Pickle a gentle nudge and said, “I bet she was a bit of a goer in her day.”
“Stop messin’ about, Kindl,” said Pickle sternly, but couldn’t help a smirk. “Just get rid o’ it. Or do yer want me to get it?”
“I was thinking of keeping her for a bit, for David.”
“What?”
“Maybe we should get him to kill it, as an initiation test. Getting the first one out of the way is the hardest one.”
Pickle shook his head and then thought that maybe Vince had a point. “He’s only a boy.”
“But he wants to learn. And Stephanie...”
Pickle nodded and said to Roger and Peter, “You guys check out the cellar, if yer can find it.” Pickle then turned to Vince and said, “I’ll give yer a hand with...”
“We’ll call her Betty,” Vince laughed. “I like Betty.”
The stumbling Snatcher made its way over to Pickle and Vince, as Roger and Peter checked out the cellar, and the two men took a side step, but Pickle had changed his mind. Pickle was ready to put his machete away, but instead he brought his blade into the side of its head and pulled it out immediately once it had done the damage.
She dropped to the floor and Pickle could feel Vince staring at him.
“It was a silly idea,” said Pickle. “We can do something like this another time.”
“If you say so,” Vince sighed.
Both men began to head for the stairs and could see Peter and Roger standing at the bottom, looking up.
“We’ve just been into the cellar,” Roger announced.
Pickle raised his eyebrows. “And?”
“There’re boxes and boxes of crisps and loads of wine and soda.”
Pickle turned to Vince and said, “Okay, so it’s not healthy stuff, but it would be nice to taste a bottle o’ coke once in a while.”
“Where’s the ... thing?” asked Roger, referring to the creature that was in the living room.
“Got rid of it. Pickle had other ideas,” Vince said. “Right. I’ll get the pickup, bring it round to the car park and we can start filling it up. We’re halving the goods, right?”
Pickle and Roger nodded.
“Right, then.” Vince clapped his hands together and began to gallop down the stairs. “Better get to it. But first I need to go outside and piss like a racehorse.”
*
Moments had passed and the supplies had been moved and halved. Pickle reiterated that he would like Roger and Peter to go back with them and stay at Colwyn Place, but the two men were adamant on staying in Rugeley, at Hagley Road.
Vince had a look in the back of the pickup and could see a substantial amount of stuff, albeit unhealthy. Vince told David to get out and sit in the front, and then grabbed a sheet from the corner of the pickup and placed it over the boxes of crisps. The boxes were light and Vince was aware that a sharp swerve could make the boxes fall over and they could even lose a couple.
Vince and Pickle shook the hands of Roger and Peter and all men wished each other good luck for the future. Pickle entered the driver’s side, but Vince remained standing, lost in thought.
“Vince,” Pickle said. “Get in.”
“Give me a minute.” Vince grabbed a carrier bag from the back of the truck and ran back over to the pub.
“What the…?” Pickle shook his head and then turned the opposite way to see that Roger and Peter had already gone inside.
Pickle turned and looked in the direction of the pub and could now see that Vince was nowhere to be seen. He waited patiently for a few minutes and could see Kindl returning and the carrier bag looked full.
Once he returned to the truck, out of breath, he entered the passenger side and dropped the bag by his feet.
Pickle took a peek and could see the bag was open and what was inside.
“Cigarettes?” Pickle queried.
“Joanne’s running out, so I just broke into the cigarette machine.” Vince tried to explain. “And I know that Stephen Bonser used to smoke.”
“Don’t yer think it’d be better for them to give up?”
“Maybe.” Vince hunched his shoulders. “But it’s nice to have some kind of treats, whether we think it’s a disgusting habit or not. We don’t know how long any of us have left, so what’s the point being obsessed with staying healthy?”
“Erm … because we don’t have hospitals anymore.”
Vince scratched his head and said, “I never thought of that
.”
Pickle fired the engine and prepared the vehicle to move. “So this is not yer trying to get into Joanne’s good books, so then yer may have a small chance o’ getting into her pants?”
“Pickle,” Vince cackled and placed his hand on his chest, feigning a look of surprise on his face. “I am disgusted and offended that you’re thinking like that. What kind of man do you think I am?”
“So that’s a no?”
“I’d settle for a blowjob, to be honest,” Vince continued to laugh. “I mean, a young girl like that and not getting any action … it’s such a waste.” He then nudged young David who was sitting inbetween them. “What do you reckon?”
David never responded.
“Yer foul, Kindl.” Pickle shook his head and pulled the vehicle away. “A bloody animal.”
“No harm in trying,” said Vince, he then looked at David and said. “You close your ears.”
David did as he was told.
Vince continued, “You wanna see some of the hounds I’ve banged over the years, Pickle. Not including Rosemary, of course.”
“Hounds?” Pickle scowled at Vince. “Have yer seen yerself lately? Yer have got a face like a carved up scrotum.”
“Very funny.” Vince nodded. “I remember a girl I met when I was in my twenties.”
“Oh God.” Pickle shook his head. “Here we go.”
“She was a big lass. Had to use plenty of talc, know what I mean? I think even her bath had stretch marks.”
“Okay,” Pickle sighed. “That’s enough.”
“I remember one time when I was in the kitchen, she fell down the stairs and I thought Eastenders was ending.”
“Yer making that up.”
“I also once went out with a woman who had one leg shorter than the other. Her name was Eileen.”
“Oh Jesus, Vince. Now yer definitely making that up.” Pickle turned and playfully punched Kindl on the arm. “That’s a Primary School joke. Yer should be ashamed o’ yerself.”
A silence fell on the two men, but Pickle cleared his throat, ready to crack the silence.
“I know yer used to have a kid,” Pickle said, trying to choose his words carefully. “But did yer ever think about getting married and get tied down to the same woman for the rest o’ yer life?”
There was a few seconds of silence as Vince pondered Pickle’s question. Eventually he answered.
“No way.” Vince shook his head. “Single women come home, see what’s in the fridge and go to bed. Married women come home, see what’s in bed and go to the fridge.
“Harsh, Vince. Very harsh.”
Pickle moved the vehicle away and two minutes later, they had reached the Western Springs Road. He took a peek to his left and could see that David still had his hands over his ears. Harry Branston cackled, gave the boy a gentle slap, and told him that he could remove his hands.
Chapter Sixteen
The bendy roads made Stephanie touch the brake every so often. The vehicle had slowed down to under twenty and began to judder because the young girl had kept the large vehicle in fourth. She guessed that there were a couple of miles to go, and could feel cramp in her left leg from all the stretching, trying to reach the pedals.
With the vehicle still struggling, Stephanie tried to drop the gear from fourth to second, but couldn’t do it.
“Come on!” she screamed, crunching the gears. “Fucking get in!”
Stephanie looked down, wondering why the vehicle was speeding up. With her left foot still down on the clutch, she was coasting and the vehicle was picking up speed as soon as the road began to descend.
Stephanie looked up and shrieked when she could see that she was half on the road and half on the grassy bank. She took her left foot off the clutch and planted her right foot down on the brake. The vehicle came to an abrupt halt and then stalled.
Stephanie wiped her brow and looked in front of her, realising that she was seconds away from hitting a tree. She tried to start the engine again and then placed her hands at the top of the steering wheel. They were shaking and so were her feet. She leaned her head back and decided to give herself a few minutes before driving off again. She was convinced that if she drove with the way her limbs were shaking, an accident was going to occur.
“Come on, girl,” Stephanie muttered to herself. “Deep breaths. Try and relax and then we’ll try again.”
She took in a breath and held it for eight seconds before slowly releasing it.
“Okay, one more time.” She tried again, sucked in a breath, but released the lot with a gasp as her door opened.
“Get out,” was the instruction that she heard. It came from a male voice, a voice she didn’t recognise.
Stephanie looked to her left to see who the voice belonged to, and saw a six-foot man with his long dark hair tied in a ten-inch ponytail. The man with the ponytail turned around and said to a man, who was coming out of a cluster of trees, of average size and stature, dark short hair, “See, I told you I heard something. And what is a kid like this doing driving a beast like this?”
The man who was of average height stood next to Ponytail and both men gazed at Stephanie, leering at the girl. She could see by the bulk in their pockets that both men were carrying knives, but to them she wasn’t much of a threat, so the blades were never taken out.
Ponytail grabbed Stephanie by the arms and pulled her out of the RV and she landed on the grass with a thump, making the young girl shriek, in fright more than pain. Average jumped into the vehicle whilst Ponytail ‘babysat’ Stephanie.
“Jesus,” Average laughed from inside the RV. “There’s a shit load of food in the back of this thing.”
“Good.” Ponytail took a step towards Stephanie and gazed down on the teenager. “Because we’re taking it.”
“Look,” Stephanie began, “You two don’t have to do this.”
“I think you’ll find that we do,” said Ponytail. “It’s all about survival, darling. And there isn’t two of us. There’s three.”
Stephanie tried to stand to her feet, but Ponytail placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back to the ground. “Sit, and don’t move, darling.” He flashed the girl an unsettling smile and added, “I ain’t finished with you yet.”
He then turned around and said to Average, who was still rummaging around in the back of the RV, “Where the hell is Paul?”
“He went for a piss before we heard the vehicle,” Average yelled from inside the vehicle. He then exited the vehicle, out of the driver’s door, holding Stephanie’s bow. “Look what I’ve found.”
The sound of feet could be heard from within the trees, and Average scratched his head and said, “Here’s Paul, at last.”
Stephanie lowered her head and wondered what was going to be the outcome of this. Was she going to be left on her own, with no vehicle? Or worse? She felt for her knife. She knew she couldn’t take out three men, but if she could hurt one of them and then run away... Maybe she would stand more of a chance. She wasn’t that far away from Colwyn Place now.
“For fuck’s sake, Paul,” Ponytail cussed. “That was some piss. What are you, a fucking camel?”
“I was bursting,” came the soft voice of Paul.
“Bursting? You took fucking ages.”
Stephanie twisted her face, thinking that she had heard that voice before, and looked up and could now see all three men.
Ponytail and Average were standing next to one another and the other guy, Paul, was leaning against the side of the vehicle, a rucksack on his back. They told him that the vehicle was full of food and that the girl appeared to be on her own.
Ponytail and Average were clean-shaven, but the Paul character had a thin beard and he and Stephanie both recognised each other straightaway. Paul then looked at the RV, as if he had seen it before, and then looked over at Stephanie again.
Paul gulped and said to Ponytail, “So what happens now?”
Ponytail shrugged his shoulders and winked at Average. “Take the van
and leave her here. But maybe we should have some fun before we leave.”
“No.” Average shook his head and began to laugh, throwing the bow back into the RV. “She’s too young.”
“Never too young.” Ponytail said, and began to rub his crotch. “At least she’ll be nice and tight for us.”
“We’re not going there,” Paul said sternly, and Stephanie could see anger on the bearded man’s features.
“Fuck you,” Average cackled. “You’ve only been with us for two days and you’re giving us orders?”
“It’s not happening,” Paul snapped.
“Is that so?”
Paul looked over at Stephanie and asked her, “Where’re you headed? Back to your camp?”
“Yes.” Stephanie nodded.
“And what are you doing out here? Some kind of supply run?”
She nodded and tried to explain, “We took the food from the warehouse up the road.” She turned to Average and Ponytail. “There’s actually more up there, plenty left. But I lost two people when getting the stuff.”
Paul’s eyes widened. “Lost? Lost who?”
“Two women called Elza and Ophelia,” she answered, and could see a little relief on Paul’s face.
Paul turned to Average and Ponytail and said, “Let’s leave her. And she can keep the vehicle as well.”
“What?” Ponytail began to snicker. “No fucking way.”
“She’s taking food to people that are relying on her,” said Paul. “And she said that there’s food back up at the warehouse. We can go there ourselves.”
Average and Ponytail took a peek at one another and burst out laughing.
“You’re too soft, Paul.” Average stepped towards the bearded man in his forties and playful patted his cheeks. “Way too soft.”
“You don’t even know me.”
Ponytail stood next to Stephanie and placed his hand on Stephanie’s head. “We’re taking the food, we’re taking the vehicle, and we’re taking the girl. You’re either with us, Paul, or you’re not.”
Stephanie felt for her knife and lowered her head, slowly pulling out the blade.
The Dead Don't Yell Page 7