Snatchers (Book 13): The Dead Don't Fear

by Whittington, Shaun

  “Okay,” Karen groaned. “So just to be clear, we check every cell and don’t split up?”

  Pickle nodded once.

  “Okay,” Vince said. “Got it.”

  Vince and Stephanie exited H Wing and walked through the opened slider doors, bypassing The Bubble, and went onto E Wing.

  “We’ll start on G Wing,” Pickle told Karen. “Top floor first.”

  The two friends exited the wing and turned right onto G Wing.

  “Do we call out?” Karen queried.

  Pickle shook his head. “Not sure,” he said in a hush. “If we call out then young David may come out o’ the cell straightaway, if he’s here. But if other undesirables, shall we say, are in here, then it might give them time to get ready and stage an attack.”

  “A bit melodramatic, Pickle.” Karen laughed gently, her voice echoing through the wing. “But I know what you mean.”

  They walked by the abandoned pool table and the shutter where the canteen workers used to serve the prisoners at lunch and dinnertime. They took the metal stairs and reached the top floor of G Wing. There was evidence of the chaotic scenes that occurred when the prisoners were released and told to leave. Sheets and clothing were strewn across the floors, and other items such as toothbrushes, combs and lighters were also scattered on the floor. Most people had left in a hurry and a panic.

  Karen was at the top of the stairs and could see inside the recreation room. She could see a snooker table, a table tennis table, and a large screen that used to show cable TV.

  “Fuck’s sake,” she huffed. “You had it easy in here.”

  “It wasn’t easy.” Pickle had heard these comments before and was annoyed every time he heard them.

  “Oh, yeah? You’ve got a pool table, snooker table, cable TV. I bet you had a state of the art gym as well.”

  “Aye,” Pickle moaned. “We had a gym.”

  “My gym membership cost me forty quid a month. And you get free dental treatment, TVs, electricity, medication...”

  “What’s yer point, Bradley?”

  “Well, it’s like a holiday camp.”

  “Far from it.” Pickle was a little defensive with his response and didn’t mean to sound so snappish. “Guys who didn’t have a job inside were locked up for twenty-two hours a day. Every month some poor fucker would be found hanged in their cells because they had mental issues that were never addressed. We were all in bed for half nine, had crap food, no alcohol.”

  “Well, isn’t it supposed to be a punishment?” She could see Pickle getting annoyed and added, “Look, all I’m saying is that my Gran’s last year on this earth was terrible. She had no TV, her only bit of company, because she couldn’t afford the licence. She slept for three winters with her clothes on because she couldn’t afford the gas bill, and she did nothing wrong. She never told us any of this because she was too embarrassed. You guys had everything free. How is that a punishment?”

  “Why are we talkin’ about this now?” Pickle scratched the inside of his ears. The eczema was making a comeback. “The world is a different place now.”

  “It’s just something that’s always bugged me.” Karen hunched her shoulders. “If you fall over and hurt yourself in prison, you’d get medical attention. When my Gran fell down the stairs, there was nobody there for her.”

  Pickle stepped inside the first cell whilst Karen hung outside. He checked the room and the tiny toilet cubicle and soon exited. He went into the next one and was out within five seconds.

  “Well, if this country ever gets back onto its feet, which I doubt,” he said softly, for fear of being heard by hiding strangers. “Maybe yer should get into politics and try and change things.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Karen nodded. “You know what I’d campaign for first?”

  “Obviously not,” he groaned and then began to chuckle, thinking about what Vince had said earlier. “Incorporating gay lanes on pavements?”

  “No,” Karen laughed. “I’d be putting prisoners into care homes and senior citizens into prisons. At least then they’d get looked after better.”

  Pickle groaned, rubbed his head, and approached the third cell and looked to the side at his female companion. She flashed him a wide smile and his response was to shake his head. He loved her, but she was like an annoying little sister.

  “You want me to get this one?” She pointed at the cell.

  “No, it’s okay.”

  Pickle went in and was out and into the fourth cell. By the time he did the sixth cell he realised that Karen’s face was all of a sudden morose looking.

  “Are yer okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded, but her face was sullen.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was thinking,” she began.

  “Oh?”

  “If Jamie and Janine had not opened you lot up, you would have died. We would never have met.”

  Pickle smiled. It was something that crossed his mind every day. “Yer wouldn’t have known. It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

  He looked at her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of Stephanie’s voice. The two looked over the railings from the first floor and could see Stephanie with a smile on her face.

  “What is it?” Karen asked her.

  “Come on down,” said Stephanie. “Vince is in E Wing.”

  “So?”

  “Come on down. The pair of you.” There was excitement in Stephanie’s voice.

  “Why?” Karen snapped.

  “David’s here.”

  Karen looked at a confused Pickle and then turned to Stephanie and snapped, “What are you talking about?”

  “We’ve found him.” Stephanie smiled. “We’ve found David.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Stephen Rowley had been speaking to Peter and Roger. It seemed the two had already settled in. It was easier for them, Stephen thought. Peter and Roger had been on the road for months and hadn’t been settled at a place since the apocalypse began.

  Once the chat had come to a finish, Rowley headed for his quarters. In truth, he was at a loss and unsure what to do with himself. He hadn’t been given a permanent job as such, and knew that when the subject of runs came up he would be overlooked as there were so many people on the grounds who had the experience. Even more so now that Craig, Karen, Pickle and Vince had arrived.

  Stephen stopped walking when he spotted Craig Burns walking towards the exit, carrying his hockey stick and a rucksack on his back.

  Stephen called over to him and began to jog his portly body over.

  Craig turned and could see Rowley heading towards him and asked, “You alright, Stephen?”

  “No, chap,” Stephen grunted. “I’m bored out of my mind.”

  “Me too.” Craig snickered, “Thankfully, Drake has asked me to do a bit of scouting.”

  “Scouting, chap?”

  “Yeah, you know. When someone goes out for a day, or a few days, and brings back people to the camp. The more people, the stronger the camp.”

  “You want company?”

  “Not sure it’s as easy as that.” Craig scratched his head and added, “You’ll have to ask Drake. I don’t think you can just leave. He needs to know that you’ve left the grounds. I don’t think you can just bugger off and tell no one.”

  “Unless you’re David MacDonald.”

  Craig snickered. “You could always ask him.”

  Stephen stood and seemed lost in thought for a while. “Wait there.”

  Rowley jogged over to the reception block and disappeared for a few minutes.

  Craig released a groan and would rather have gone on his own, but didn’t want to hurt Stephen’s feelings. He had told Drake about being a scout during his short time at Colwyn Place, but what he didn’t tell him was that he had been hopeless when he tried to recruit his first one: A young girl called Yoler. She was cute and had a Beatle haircut, but Craig
had been naive and ended up getting robbed by the young woman.

  He smiled and thought about another person he was briefly friendly with. He thought about Jez and the handful of adventures they had encountered.

  Poor bastard. Craig shook his head sadly. Poor young Jez.

  The way he went was horrific, and by Drake’s men as well. Although, Drake admitted that the men that killed Jez were bad apples.

  Craig waited patiently for Stephen to return, hoping that Drake had told him no. He looked to the ground and had a flashback. His mind projected a scene of people being attacked at Alton Towers. He was with his family and they began to witness other people attacking and biting one another on this particular Saturday afternoon, and had no idea what the hell was going on.

  His ears picked up footsteps, and looked up when he heard the sound of moving feet and females talking. Craig smiled and waved as Patricia Johnson and another female, of name he had forgotten, walked by, and watched both attractive ladies walk to the large washing line at the end of the grounds.

  He reprimanded himself, as wild thoughts had escaped, and then apologised to his late wife for his weakness. Both females were carrying sheets that had been washed, and were about to hang them out on the line that stretched from the shed to the nearest greenhouse.

  Rowley burst out of the reception building with a big smile on his face.

  It was good news, as far as Stephen was concerned. Craig could tell by the daft look on his face.

  It looked like Craig was going to have company on his little trip, whether he liked it or not.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Pickle and Karen went onto H Wing and could see a distraught and shamefaced David MacDonald standing next to Stephanie and Vince.

  The youngster looked up at Pickle and said, “Don’t be annoyed.”

  Pickle smiled. He was annoyed, but was more relieved that no harm had come to the teenager. “Why would I be annoyed?” he asked him, swallowing his anger.

  “I just needed to be away from that place,” David cried.

  “Away from the hospital, or away from Ronnie?”

  David dipped his head and his silence told the group that Ronnie and his bullying was the reason for his disappearance.

  “I thought over the weeks I’d toughen up,” David spoke with a quaver in his tone and looked close to tears. “With my dad picking on me, what happened on Sandy Lane, and killing a Snatcher with Vince ... I thought it would toughen me up, but I get more terrified as the weeks go by.”

  “Ronnie’s a lot older and bigger than you,” Stephanie said. “No wonder you were terrified.”

  “I suppose that’s karma, I guess.”

  “What do you mean?” Karen asked the youngster.

  “Well, back on Sandy Lane Charles Pilkington and I used to make Kyle Dickson’s life a misery. The same is now happening to me.”

  “Yeah, well, karma can be a bitch for most people,” Pickle said with a smile. “Yer little abuser Ronnie took a beating off Drake after we found out yer disappeared and the reason why yer left.”

  “Really?” David tried his best not to smile. “Drake did that?”

  “Uh-huh.” Pickle nodded.

  David wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. “Ronnie said that if I told people about what happened he would stab me. He even pulled his shirt up and showed me the knife he had on him.”

  “Well, in ma experience, if yer goin’ to do harm to someone, yer don’t tell them beforehand, yer just do it.”

  Pickle walked away and beckoned David to follow. All five stepped out onto the exercise yard and one by one they climbed the wiry fence. They stepped over the bodies carefully and David was paranoid that some could still be active, despite them lying on the ground.

  Once they had passed the worst of it, they were now twenty yards from the exit of the grounds.

  Three figures could be seen stumbling into the area and heading for the group. All were males, and two were close together, one was behind the other. The other ghoul was to the left of the two, almost five yards away.

  “I’ll get this.” Stephanie took off her bow and pulled an arrow from her bag.

  She stopped still and took aim at the two that were together. Three seconds later she released the arrow and all were surprised to see the arrow go through the first Snatcher and also pierced the forehead of the one behind it. Both fell together and Vince began to applaud what he had just seen.

  “Must have hit a soft part,” Stephanie said. She was just as surprised as any, but tried to keep the smug smile off her face.

  “One left,” Pickle said, stating the obvious. He then took out his machete and handed it to David. “This one’s yours.”

  “Pickle?” Karen was concerned, but Pickle appeased the woman. “He’s done it before.” He turned to Vince and said, “Isn’t that right?”

  “He sure has,” Vince laughed. “He was such a bad ass that he threw up over it once he was finished.”

  David puffed out a breath and strode to the remaining dead being. He was yards from the creature and could see the female didn’t look too dissimilar to his biology teacher Mrs Doherty.

  He raised the blade behind his head, but something was stopping him from putting her down.

  “If you hesitate, you will be Snatcher-bait,” Vince called out from behind David.

  Karen turned and gave Vince a confused look. “What the hell was that?”

  Vince hunched his shoulders. “Just a little motto I made up.”

  “When?”

  “A few seconds ago.”

  David took in a deep breath as the Snatcher was an arm’s length from him. He swiped at it from the side, the blade burying itself three inches into the side of its head. The youngster then front kicked the being to free the blade and watched as it fell to the floor.

  David then passed the blade back to Pickle, and all could see that David was shuddering with nerves and adrenaline. Pickle refused the blade and told David to wipe it first. David did as he was told and then passed it back.

  Pickle placed the blade back under his belt and told David that he did well. “Just one thing, though,” said Pickle.

  “What is it?” asked David.

  “The front kick wasn’t necessary. We’ve all been guilty o’ doing that in the past, especially when there’s a few to kill and time is a factor, but yer only had one and had plenty o’ time. I saw a guy called Jack Slade kick a Snatcher and the thing was that rotten his foot went straight through its stomach.”

  David was astonished and looked over to Vince. He wasn’t sure that it was just a tale made up by Pickle to frighten the youngster.

  “True story.” Vince nodded, and had sadness scrawled over his face because of the mention of Jack.

  Pickle turned to David and could still see the joy on David’s face after the kill. “Next time I go out,” Pickle said, “yer comin’ with me.”

  “Really?” The delight on David’s face made Karen’s heart warm.

  “Aye, really.”

  Karen turned to Pickle as David walked away with Stephanie. The two of them chatted excitedly and she congratulated and praised him for being brave. The other three followed behind, but Karen tugged on Pickle’s sleeve and asked Harry Branston, “Are you sure about that, Pickle? Don’t you think it’s a little early?”

  “He has to start somewhere,” Vince spoke up.

  “Was I asking you?” she snapped.

  “Alright, alright,” Vince laughed. “Keep your knickers on.”

  “Piss off, Vince.”

  “Jesus, what’s up with you? A bit tense, aren’t you?”

  Karen shook her head, tucked in her bottom lip to prevent her from biting further and turned her attention back to Pickle.

  “He’ll be fine,” Pickle smiled and winked at his female friend. “I think it’ll be good for him.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I’ll take full responsibility for his safety. I’ll have a word with Dra
ke once we get back.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Craig and Stephen were hydrated and had been on the road for the last ten minutes. Drake had given them instructions to get to a farmhouse he knew from years back. He didn’t know the people that lived there, but guessed that people of some capacity would be present.

  If the farmhouse had guests, Drake told Craig and Stephen to be respectful and politely explain to them about what was on offer. And if they refused, walk away.

  Craig Burns and a tetchy Stephen Rowley entered an estate that was notorious back in the old world for being rough, but there wasn’t a single soul as they walked through. There was the usual carnage, like dead bodies, some with limbs missing, smashed up cars and old bloodstains on the pavement. They even walked by a dog that had been half devoured and a body belonging to a female senior citizen that had been decapitated.

  Months ago they would have checked each house for supplies, but Drake was adamant that these days it wasn’t worth the risk. Drake had informed them that some of his men had checked half of the houses in Stafford and, on a supply run a couple of weeks back, three of his guys went out and checked houses from a street. Most houses were empty and they had returned with just three tins and a man short. One of the men was caught off guard and was attacked by a Snatcher that was lurking in one of the bedrooms.

  Not only was checking out houses a waste of time and energy nowadays, but it was also a dangerous thing to do.

  The two walked down the road, heads constantly turning, and Stephen was twitchier than ever and started to annoy Craig. A line of houses could be seen up ahead, and Craig told Stephen to be vigilant and go to the other side of the road when passing them.

  They could see that some of the front doors of the houses were open. Craig wasn’t sure if the doors were opened by families that had fled in such a panic and that shutting the doors had been forgotten. Or maybe some undesirables of the human variety broke in to get supplies.

  They could see the end of the street and ahead of them was a country lane. Stephen and Craig remembered the instructions that were given to them and wordlessly left the street, passing the last house, and were on the lane. The lane was tight and windy, and to the side of them were eight-foot hedges. It was quite a dusky and spooky area they were in, thanks to the dark clouds that hung above, and knew after a mile the lane would lead them to a main road that had fields to either side and a farmhouse.