“Jesus, you and Vince should form a double act.”
“You never know, Karen.” Drake leaned over the table and elevated his eyebrows rapidly. “You might even like it. It’s a one time offer.”
“No, thanks.” Karen smiled. “You’re a bit old for me.”
“Ouch,” Drake guffawed. “You cheeky bitch.”
“Weird, isn’t it?” Karen gently laughed.
Drake leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on his lap. “What is?”
“Some guys are quick to call a girl a bitch, but even quicker to put their penis in one.”
“It’s not our fault. It’s the way we’re made.”
Karen nodded. “Oh, I know.”
“Well, if you change your mind and you’re looking for a shallow relationship—”
“I’ll hook up with Small Chris.”
“Very good.” Drake snickered and stood up and went over to the sink. “We may as well have a drink while we’re waiting for Double D. What do you say? Tea?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have a coffee.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“We’ve been sitting around here long enough,” Craig finally spoke, pacing the floor. “Time to go.”
Mildred was sitting in the armchair, gazing into the abyss and Stephen was asleep and moaning.
Mildred bent over and grabbed Rowley by both shoulders. She gave Stephen a rough shuffle and the man opened his eyes, wondering where he was. He sat up and winced as soon as he saw his strapped up ankle.
“Fuck,” he moaned.
“Never mind that,” Craig spoke up. “We need to leave. We need to get back to Stafford by the evening. I can’t stay out here a day longer, not in the condition you’re in. I knew I should have gone out on my own.”
“Um ... Craig.” Mildred had spoken, but no one was listening to her.
“Come on, Stephen. Move it.”
“I can’t, chap.” Stephen sat up and that in itself made him screw his face in pain. He leaned forwards and touched his ankle gently.
“We need to.”
“Um ... Craig.” Mildred tried again.
“Wait a minute, Mildred,” Craig snapped.
“But—”
“What is it?”
“Look.” Mildred pointed towards the living room window and both males looked and their mouths dropped.
The barn door was opened and eleven of the dead were heading towards the living room.
“For fuck’s sake,” Craig moaned, then turned and slapped Stephen on the shoulder to hurry him up. “Move it.”
Stephen put his hand on Craig’s shoulder and lifted himself up. Craig, with his right hand grasping his hockey stick, had his left arm around Stephen’s waist, and by the time he turned around to look out of the window once more, most of the dead were close and the first two ran into the window and started slapping the window pane.
“That won’t hold.” Craig shook his head. “Especially when there’re eleven of them against that window.”
“There’s only one way out of here,” said Mildred. “Unless we escape out of one of the rooms at the back of the place through a window.”
The window crashed open, and all three headed to the back of the house and entered a room that appeared to be a guest bedroom. Craig instructed Mildred to open the window and jump out first. She didn’t need telling twice.
Once she was outside, she turned and told the two men to get a move on.
“Give me your bags!” she cried.
Craig took his bags off his back and handed the two of them to the young woman. She took them and placed them on the ground.
“Come on,” she urged the two of them.
Craig climbed out and then told Stephen to wrap his arms around his neck so that he could try and lift him onto the windowsill, but Craig couldn’t even lift the rotund man.
One of the first dead to reach the room was an elderly lady. It was hard to fathom how long she had been infected, but she looked badly decomposed. It was a possibility that she could have been infected in the first week.
She grabbed Stephen’s ankle, as Craig and Mildred desperately tried to pull him out, and Rowley released a scream as the old decayed woman opened her mouth and appeared to bite into Stephen’s left calf. Mildred and Craig found some newfound energy and pulled as hard as they could. Stephen was dragged out and screamed as his wounded ankle scraped along the window ledge as he fell to the ground.
Craig immediately checked Stephen’s calf and could see there was no wound. Not even the material in his jeans had been torn. Confused, Craig stood up and walked over to the window where the old woman, and many others behind her, were now reaching out and desperate to get out and feed on the three that were on the opposite side of the window. Craig took half a step closer and could see the woman snarling at him, and this made him smile.
He turned around and looked at Mildred who had her hands on her head, and then looked at Stephen. “You are one lucky prick,” said Craig.
Stephen was in no fit state to ask Craig what the hell he was talking about, so Mildred did the honours.
“The woman didn’t have any teeth,” she laughed. “She must have had false teeth and they were left out when she turned.”
Craig helped Stephen up and Rowley threw his arm around Craig’s shoulder for support. Craig used his stick as stability and Mildred picked up both rucksacks and threw one over each shoulder.
“Let’s go,” Craig yelled, “before they start falling out of that window.”
Mildred was ahead of the two guys as they staggered away from the farmhouse and eventually reached a country road.
They saw a sign that read: Gnosall 1/3 mile.
Not a word was said and all three thought that going to the small village would be advantageous, especially if they could find a safe house and rest up for the night. Going back to Stafford on foot, especially in Stephen’s condition, was going to take a while and it could be dark by the time they got there. Walking in the dark was an absolute no-no.
They wordlessly made slow gains to the village and could see a bend up ahead. They cleared the bend and could see a sign with a white background and black lettering. The sign was archaic and looked older than them.
They passed the “Welcome to Gnosall” sign and stopped walking when they saw vehicles across the entrance of the village and three guys standing in front of them, all armed with blunt instruments.
One took a step forwards, holding a crowbar. He looked to be in his fifties and looked confident and that he was no stranger to violence. He had a crowbar and looked like he would use it if he had to.
“That’s far enough,” the man said.
“We need somewhere to stay,” Craig spoke up. “Just for the night, mainly for my friend.”
“No can do.” The crowbar-wielding individual snarled and took a step forwards. A conversation began between the crowbar holder and another five guards. The other guard wanted the crowbar holder to get a man called Marsden, but Crowbar said that the visitors were leaving anyway.
It was clear to Craig, Stephen and Mildred that they were going to have to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. They were not getting in the village.
“Look,” Craig persisted. “We’re just asking to rest for one night. That’s it.”
“Not gonna happen.” The crowbar holder gripped the bar tighter and looked ready to lash out. He was ready for a physical confrontation.
“You need to be gone in one minute. Or else...”
“Okay.” Craig nodded and sighed in defeat. “We’re going.”
The three walked away, shocked by what they had just witnessed. Craig looked up to the murky sky and guessed that it would take up to two hours to get back to the hospital.
“Let’s get a move on,” he said. “Daylight is against us.”
“There was something not right about that place,” said Mildred.
“What do you mean?” Craig had his arm around Stephen and
was struggling already. “Just because they wouldn’t let us in?”
Mildred shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Right, forget about that place. Get your arm around Stephen. We’re gonna help him until I come across something I can use as crutches.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Drake, Karen, Pickle and Vince hung around the building that they were about to check, to see if there were instruments and equipment that would help Karen with her clinic. It had been cleared a while back, and at the last minute Drake had changed his mind and thought that a team of ten would be too many and some individuals would just get in the way. They were going to take what they could and afterwards people were going to be sent in to retrieve any other gear that had been located. He never personally cleared the building himself, it was his men, but he was ninety nine percent certain it was danger free. Whether there were any supplies in there that could be of help was another thing.
Drake handed each of them a dynamo torch.
“They’re a bit noisy, but you’ll need them in certain rooms. Dark as hell in there.” He looked at the three of them, all holding weapons and had an empty bag each on their backs. “Ready then?”
Karen, Pickle and Vince nodded, but before they could move, a guy called David Marshall called Drake over. He was a bald, portly man, in his sixties, and was one of many that annoyed Drake.
“What does that cunt want now?” he sighed.
There was excitement on David’s face and he asked, “Have you been to the greenhouses lately?”
Drake shook his head. “No. Haven’t had the time.”
“Potatoes outside are getting big and the tomatoes inside look ready to be picked.”
“Great.” Drake sighed with impatience, turned on his heels and took a step forwards. “Catch you later. We need to go.”
“Also…”
David had released one word and this made Drake turn around as well as make his blood boil. “What?” he snapped.
“Cucumbers are looking good as well, Drake,” he said, and then chuckled, “Can’t wait to get tucked into them. Nom, nom, nom.”
Drake scratched his head and scowled at the man. “Um ...What the fuck was that?”
David looked perplexed. “What was what?”
“That noise you just made.”
“You mean…?” David was unsure what Drake meant and added, “You mean nom, nom, nom?”
Drake nodded, clicked his fingers and pointed at David Marshall. “That’s the one.”
“It’s what I do when I see something tasty. I always say that.”
“Not anymore.”
“Um ... what?”
Drake released a heavy blow of breath and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t like it.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Don’t do it again.” Drake groaned and took his hands off his hips and now had his hands clenched into a fist. “It’s annoying.”
“But that’s what I say when I see something tasty, Drake.”
“Well, not anymore, David. If you say nom, nom, nom again, I’ll be kick-kick-kicking your arse out of this place, and you can take your cucumbers with you. Nom, nom, nom makes you sound like a retard.”
“Come now, Drake.” David put his hands in his pockets and looked annoyed. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s politically incorrect.”
“Well, I don’t think the dead eating people, and survivors killing other survivors is politically correct, but it’s happening. If you don’t like it, you know where the door is ... I mean the gate.” He turned to Pickle, Vince and Karen and said, “Shall we go before this cunt bores me to death about peas?”
“Drake!” one of the guards yelled.
“What now?” he grumbled. “For fuck’s sake.”
The guard ran over and was cradling a shotgun. “Just in case.”
Drake took the gun and thanked the guard.
Drake entered the premises and they all followed.
Drake led the way with Pickle, Karen and Vince creeping through the dusky corridor. They kept the dynamo torches on them but they weren’t needed so far. The rooms had light from the windows. It was the corridor that was at its most dusky.
Drake was in front and the other three went into the nearest room, checked the place out and returned behind Drake. Three rooms had been checked, but nothing of importance had been found so far.
The fourth room provided better results. Karen had found a folded up wheelchair. She opened it up and pushed it as they headed for the fifth room. There were no medical supplies as such, but there were first aid boxes, which were taken off the wall and placed on the seat of the wheelchair.
“It’s not looking great, guys,” Drake admitted. “But at least we managed to get medical stuff from that run before. Three rooms to go.”
“There is some stuff that can be of use,” said Karen. “But we can take them later when ... if we get desperate.”
The sixth room was checked and Karen smiled when she saw a surgical table and sterilisers.
“I’ll grab the table,” Pickle spoke up. “Get the sterilisers, Vince.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Vince saluted his friend with his bandaged left hand and was the last to leave as they joined Drake back in the corridor. The seventh room also produced positive results. There was nothing actually in the room, apart from beds, but they opened a cupboard and found two stretchers in there and a pair of crutches.
“It hasn’t been a complete waste of time,” said Karen. “On top of the medical supplies, I can make a decent clinic out of what we’ve got.”
“Great,” was all that a bored Drake could muster.
“I also have empty blood bags and sample tubes. People can give blood in an emergency, providing they have the same blood type. That’s something I’ll need to figure out.”
The eighth room was the last one to be checked and this room was draughty. Drake peered in and noticed that this particular room was darker than the others. There were two windows present in this room, but the blinds were closed. With Karen behind him, pushing the wheelchair and Pickle carrying the table, Drake told Vince to use the dynamo torch to shine in.
As soon as the torch was squeezed a few times to get the light to work, a hissing was heard to the right side of Drake. Vince gasped and took a step back and Drake turned the gun and fired a shot where the noise was coming from.
The sound of the weapon made Drake and Vince’s ears ring.
“What the fuck is going on?” Karen called out.
“Jesus!” Pickle cried. “I almost shat maself, yer fuckin’ clown.”
“It’s okay,” Drake appeased the two, and then asked Vince to roughly point the torch in the direction of where he had shot. Both men noticed that the top window was open, which explained the draught and when Vince lowered the torch, Drake sighed and said, “Shit.”
“What is it?” Pickle asked, and stood behind Drake and Vince and could see the small body of a white cat missing a head.
“I think I’ve found Mr Tiddles.”
“Who?”
“Small Chris’s cat,” said Drake. He then turned to the three and added, “I think we’ll keep this little episode to ourselves.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Craig had stopped a few times as they made slow progress to the hospital. The country lane was a mile long and then the three of them would be in the ghost town of Stafford and another half mile from the hospital itself.
“We should have been given walkie talkies,” Stephen moaned and winced every time he moved.
“They only have a limited amount, and it’s the guards that have them,” Craig panted. His neck and shoulders were aching with Stephen leaning on him. “Batteries are few and far between as well.”
Mildred was in front of the two men and could see a lone ghoul staggering out onto the road from a field to the left.
“Wai
t.” Mildred held up her hand and picked up her pace as she headed to the Snatcher that had now spotted her and was heading their way. “I’ve got it,” she sighed. Three months ago the sight of these creatures would have put the fear of God into her, but now they were just a pain.
She held the bat with one hand near the handle, as if she was holding a javelin, and rammed the spike at the end into the middle of its forehead. She removed the large sharpened nail before the dead thing collapsed to the floor and looked behind her to see where her two companions were. Both were sitting down on the road, exhausted. She preferred using the nail on the end when disposing of the dead. It was less messy and she knew that over time the more skulls she cracked, the more likely the bat would eventually break.
She looked to her left, where the dead had come from, and could see a four-foot gap in the hedge where a gate used to be. The heavy metal gate was far back and she knew it would take a few people to close it again, but that wasn’t what concerned her. It appeared that the lone creature had broken away from a herd and she could now see the herd heading down the field, towards the gap, towards her.
She estimated that there were thirty of them, fifteen or so yards away, and called to the two men to get to their feet.
Picking up on her anxiety, Craig got to his feet and asked her what was wrong.
They never asked why. They never had time to ask why.
The dead stumbled out onto the road in their droves and Rowley and Craig had managed to find some newfound energy from somewhere. Mildred went to the other side of Stephen and told him to place his arm around her other shoulder to speed him up, and all three turned back on themselves and looked to be heading back to Gnosall.
Knowing that they wouldn’t be welcomed by the guards of Gnosall and would also have to face the dead from the farmhouse, Craig looked to both sides of the road and decided to climb the wooden fence into a field. In the distance, he could see a lane and was going to head for that.
“Over the fence!” he cried.
Without releasing words, Stephen and Mildred turned and the three stopped once they were by the fence. Craig and Mildred lifted Stephen over and Mildred was next to climb, telling Craig to toss his hockey stick over before making the climb himself. The dead were getting closer and the fear was that the fence wouldn’t hold thirty determined bodies back. As soon as they were over, there was going to be no respite. They needed to keep moving.
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