Snatchers (A Zombie Novel)

by Shaun Whittington

  She had to be at her mum's!

  He left the house with a full stomach and started up the bike. It squealed its way away from the empty Crabtree Road, heading toward Fair Oak. He turned left and headed out of Rugeley through a place called Slitting Mill, which sat on the outskirts of Cannock Chase. That was when he saw his first group of beings sauntering along the main road, just outside the Horns Pub.

  The noise of his cycle made their heads turn and all eleven that were there, including one that looked no older than eight, outstretched their arms and desperately tried to grab Jack as he weaved around them. The last one he had passed almost ended in an unhappy ending, as he felt the tight grip of the thing grabbing the sleeve of his T-shirt, forcing Jack's arm to lash back at the fiend, forcing him to drive the bike for a couple of seconds one handed. The short incident had made him temporarily lose control of the bike, it wobbled slightly and it headed toward the crash barrier.

  Only quick thinking from Jack had prevented the episode in ending in a bloody result. He slowed the bike down and turned it to the left, missing the barrier by three yards. He was almost stationary before the bike increased its speed once again. The slowing down of the vehicle had given the creatures false hope. They turned and made an awful groaning sound; their decaying mouths open at the thought of warm flesh. Jack sped off, and took a quick look behind him, as the bike growled and taunted them.

  Jesus Christ, they're almost running!

  Jack was pretty confident that outrunning those things would be a task that could be achievable, providing there was obstacles that could prevent them from attacking him. If he ran up a jagged hill or a set of steps, that would halt their progress, as they seemed clumsy and unbalanced. Running away on a flat stretch of road, however, could be a different story altogether.

  They weren't going to win any races, but what they did have was a will never to stop. Jack thought that as a human, eventually you would have to stop to get your breath back, they on the other hand, would not, and probably had no breath to get back anyway.

  He was sure that they didn't feel the burning sensation people got in their lungs, or pains in the chest, or even tiredness. They would probably continue, robotic like, until something or someone stopped them from achieving their feeding goal.

  He had experienced his first encounter with a large group of them and nearly paid the price. He knew the bike had to go eventually.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  They were reasonably stocked up with supplies that they had in the van, but Pickle told KP to head for the nearest supermarket to stock up even more, as if they left it any longer, most of the food would be off or gone, taken by other desperate looters. There wasn't much room in the back as it was, but with six mouths to feed the supplies weren't going to last long.

  The group had tried to convince Pickle to stop and check if there were any vacant houses that had been fled, but he was adamant that Stile Cop was their safest bet. It was in the open so they couldn't get trapped, unlike being in a house, and it was high up and in the middle of nowhere away from populated areas.

  With Pickle opting to go in the back for a change, KP was driving the van and turned to his right to see that passengers, Jamie and Janine, were daydreaming, their eyes staring into nothingness. The trees and shrubs whizzed past their eyes as the van reached forty, and the streetlights, with their long necks, look to be giving them and their vehicle the guard of honour as they progressed along the road.

  As they ventured into Rugeley, they saw a few beings and realised that Pickle's theory was correct, and that staying anywhere residential so early was a recipe for disaster. The people who were trapped in their houses had no choice and had to stay where they were, but the group did have a choice, and the middle of nowhere seemed an appropriate destination.

  KP decided to go the quickest way out of the town and went through Slitting Mill, rather than through Draycott. The van turned left and travelled along the Hednesford Road as if it was re-entering Rugeley the Draycott Park way. All three could see a few of the beings deep into the estate, small gatherings of the dead were in their dozens around the town. They were roaming together, but why? Were they herding together out of instinct?

  The van turned right onto Stile Cop Road and it was a road KP knew well. It was a road he and his friend used to cycle up on a weekend, when he was a child. When they were children the feeling of relief once they had cycled to get to top of the hill was immense, and once they were at the top, they had three options as they came to a crossroad.

  Option one was to turn left and head into Brereton—Rugeley's neighbouring town. Option two was to go straight on and ride into a village called Upper Longdon. The third option would be to turn right, cycle for another mile and enter another small town called Hazelslade. Very rarely, a fourth option would be introduced. That fourth option would be to turn around and head back down Stile Cop Road. Any cyclist going down that hill could pick up a speed of twenty, easily.

  As they bypassed the garden of death and its headstones—Stile Cop Cemetery—they looked to their left to see the condensed woods. KP looked at the digital clock fitted into the van's dashboard. It was nearly 11am.

  KP's daydream of yesteryear came to an abrupt end when he heard a scream.

  "Watch out!" Janine shrieked.

  KP saw a figure for no more than a second that stumbled out into the middle of the road. The face was covered in blood, and its left hand was holding onto its left knee. KP's right foot applied more pressure on the gas pedal and the figure in the middle of the road was hit instantly. The van and the people inside it jumped up as the wheels of the heavy vehicle went over the body.

  "Was that one of them?" Jamie said, his voice raised and filled with concern.

  "Absolutely," KP answered, but he was unsure.

  They turned left as they drove by the beauty spot where they were going to park up after their visit to the supermarket, and Jamie saw that there was a family there already. KP then made the short drive to the supermarket and almost collided with a green BMW motorbike on the way. The supermarket was situated on Power Station Road, and they had taken the long way around, but KP was under instruction by Pickle that they should drive the circumference of the town, rather than through it, in case they attracted unwanted attention from afar.

  The drive lasted another seven minutes, when at last, they reached their destination.

  "Well, here we are," KP announced. "Let's get as much food as we can, providing the place hasn't been looted already."

  Jamie jumped out of the van into the car park of the twenty-four hour supermarket, and saw that the place had a few cars in the car park. He scratched his short brown hair and sighed hard. How did it come to this?

  "Do you think there's anyone inside?" Janine probed.

  "Dunno." Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "There're cars here. Why would people leave without their cars?"

  Janine tried to quickly scan the car park as Jamie opened up the back to let out Pickle, Laz and Grass. She estimated that at least twenty cars were in the car park, and she was hoping they all belonged to staff that were hiding in the offices.

  "Right, guys," Pickle announced. "Guns ready. Remember what I showed yer."

  He then pointed at Grass and Laz. "You two grab a trolley. We're all going.

  In a loose four-two formation, the four being the gunmen and the two being Laz and Grass with their trolleys in front, they entered the place through the main entrance of the automatic slider doors.

  On the first floor was the food section; there were thirty aisles where customers paid for their items. To the right, was an escalator, where a huge range of clothes were normally sold. All four donned their Browning pistols, and Pickle's shotgun was strapped loosely on his back with a homemade strap that was made from a belt that he borrowed off Janine when they were in the Wolseley Arms pub.

  "Once we get some food, I'm going up there," Jamie snorted, and pointed toward the escalator leading to the first floor clothes
section. "Can't wait to get out of this uniform."

  "First things first," Pickle cackled.

  "Get plenty of fruit." Janine turned to Laz, who was now donning a smouldering cigarette hanging out from the corner of his mouth. Laz looked at Janine; he could see her physically shaking, holding the pistol. She'll be no good to anyone, he thought.

  "Not too much fruit," KP snapped. "Be lucky if the fruit lasts a day, look at those bananas, they're almost black."

  Janine felt that KP had a good point; the aisles of the place were reasonably well stocked, and only looked half empty. The advantage that they had was that the supermarket was a mile away from civilization, so it was hardly walking distance for the average human, and even less so because of what was happening.

  The place was built purposely near an industrial estate to attract, not just the residents of Rugeley, but people from afar like Armitage, Brereton and other small towns.

  They shuffled together in a loose oval shape and KP turned to Pickle and looked at the way the group was slowly moving, and said, "Do you think this is absolutely necessary?"

  Pickle smirked thinly and shook his head. "Probably not. We'll probably get things done a lot quicker if we split up."

  "Why don't you guys take a look around." Jamie suggested to KP and Pickle. "Janine and I will stay with Laz and Grass."

  "Good idea." KP winked at Jamie and didn't need to be persuaded to stay. He walked off on his own and disappeared behind an aisle.

  Pickle took a bottle of apple juice and opened the bottle, and turned to the group. "KP has left the back o' the van open, so once yer loaded the van, meet us at the bottom of the escalator for those of you who want fresh clothes. For those who don't, yer can stay by the van. Who wants fresh clothes?"

  All four put their hands up. Pickle grinned. "Okay, see yer all in about half an hour then." Pickle walked on and left the four to their own devices.

  "What next?" Jamie announced, and looked over to Laz.

  "Erm...some of those already cooked chickens!" Laz said with excitement. "They smell nice."

  After finishing their shopping trip, they then loaded the already opened van. The four returned back to the barren supermarket, headed for the escalator and saw KP appear at the top, his Browning tucked into the front of his trousers. He was now wearing blue chinos and a black dressy shirt with a collar. Pickle appeared dressed in camouflage gear. He wore combat trousers and a round-neck-shirt to match.

  Jamie sniggered to himself, and made a joke with Grass and Laz that Pickle thought he was Rambo.

  "It's all clear," Pickle shouted down.

  The rest of the group responded by running up the defunct escalator, excited about their new change of clothes. The place was half the size of the supermarket's ground floor; the other half appeared to be offices, staff rooms and canteens.

  The clothes section was like a maze and the clothes racks were at six feet in height, so most of the group couldn't see over. The group had excitedly split up and were spread out among the first floor. Janine had already a handful of clothes and was heading toward the changing area.

  Laz walked away from the group and walked along the balcony that looked onto the ground floor. He walked by the toilets and staff room, and headed toward the offices.

  "Where're you going?" Grass shouted after Laz.

  "Gonna see if any of these phones are working in these offices."

  Grass immediately followed Laz, and didn't want to waste the opportunity to phone his mum and dad.

  Laz tried the door and was pleased to find it was open. He stepped into the offices and began checking the phones. Grass had decided to take a different route and went into the toilet to drain his bladder.

  Once the twenty-year-old had finished, he washed his hands and exited out of the area. He was now on the balcony looking over the ground floor, and to his right he could see the clothes section from afar. To his left, he could see through the windows of the offices, and saw Laz frantically checking the phones. From what he could see of Laz's body language, it didn't look good.

  Grass walked on and could smell the unmistakable aroma of ground coffee coming from the staff room, but there was something else he could smell mixed in with the aroma of coffee: The smell of rotten meat.

  Maybe I've got time to make a fresh pot.

  With zero hesitancy, he tried the door and as it opened, he was suddenly engulfed by an accumulation of bodies and the awful odour of death and groaning.

  The momentum of their strength forced Grass to scream out and he almost went backward over the balcony. The dozen or so creatures spilled out of the room and grabbed and tore at him as he desperately tried to flee. He felt the first bite sink into his neck and he let out a terrifying, blood curdling scream, that attracted the attention of the rest of his group, including a horrified Laz.

  Laz looked on in horror from the offices, as at least twelve of the things brought down the youngster and began to attack him. He could see at the other side, the group coming together to witness the destruction of young Conor Snodgrass. Three of the things ignored the bloody feast that was happening, and advanced toward the group at the clothes section instead.

  Laz was safe for now. But what was going to be the end product? Him, stuck in the offices with these things trying to get in, as the group safely retreated back to Stile Cop with a van full of food and water? No chance!

  Laz opened the office door and was now standing back on the balcony. He saw the remains of Grass being devoured by seven of the things that looked like they used to work at the place, as they were all dressed in similar attire.

  He felt queasy as he saw one of them pushing its hand into the ripped-off head of the young man and scooping out the brains and shoving the findings into its mouth rapidly, as if someone was about to steal it from them. Another two were biting into his legs and the torso couldn't be seen at all, apart from what used to be inside it, which had spilled out all over the balcony.

  Laz assumed that the frightened staff must have locked themselves in as the outbreak was announced, and maybe one of them had already been bit or scratched by an infected customer or member of staff. He could only imagine what carnage had taken place in the staff room as they changed into these mindless freaks. It appeared that they had no idea on how to get out of the staff room once they had turned. That was until Grass came along and kicked the hornet's nest.

  "What shall we do?" Jamie asked; his face was etched with panic, as slowly, three of the creatures dragged their feet toward the group.

  "Shoot the fuckers!" KP exclaimed. "In the head!"

  The group adhered to KP's advice and did exactly that.

  It was self-evident that target practice hadn't been introduced, as some bullets from the four pistols that were being unleashed, hit the torso of some of those things. It took a few seconds before the first one fell to its knees and fiercely hit the floor face down.

  Seeing that there were some bullet holes in the wall that had completely missed them, Pickle spoke out. "Wait till they get nearer!"

  There were now seven of them about thirty yards away, the nearest two were ten yards in front, and the remaining five that were devouring the rest of Grass, seemed unruffled about the noise that was being generated by the weapons.

  The first one in front of the group of the beings was an obese looking young girl; she was virtually unrecognisable now as her face was ashen, her mouth and clothes stained with other peoples' blood and she walked as if she had spent twelve hours in a pub with Oliver Reed.

  KP stepped forward, pointed his Browning at the girl and took her out with one clean shot, which took him by surprise. The rest followed suit and one by one, they fell. Some of the shots were still not hitting the target, but they eventually fell like dominoes, as if someone had just kicked over a line of mannequins.

  Seven of the bodies were slumped on the floor; black fluid left the entrance of the wounds from some of the bodies, like a slow oil spill. Pickle and the rest of the group
walked forward onto the balcony; the four creatures that had devoured Grass, got to their feet. They looked up and began walking toward the group, except one. Its attention was distracted by the presence of Laz standing outside the office. Laz went back into the offices and hid himself in the ladies toilets that were situated in the office near the photocopier. Pickle aimed from afar, and took himself by surprise when he released a shot and saw the loner ghoul take a fall before it got to the offices.

  As the three others staggered toward the gun-wielding group, two went down immediately from Jamie and KP's guns. Jamie and KP continued to pull at the triggers and found that their magazines were empty.

  Pickle smiled and said, "Allow me." The third, now twenty yards away, speeded up at the same speed as a jogger.

  "Let me," Janine jumped in nervously. "I don't think I've got one yet."

  Pickle stepped to the side and Janine shook so much, she needed two hands to hold the gun. She finally fired two rounds; one skimmed the outside of the neck. As it got closer, she made no mistake with the second shot that hit the thing in the left eye socket. It fell with a heavy thump.

  "Well done." Pickle patted Janine on the shoulder. It was never meant to be a patronising comment from Pickle, and Janine never took it that way. She was almost in tears and her hands shook violently from her first experience of firing a handgun.

  Pickle said, "Back in a minute."

  Pickle saw something from afar that unnerved him. He marched his muscular frame over the balcony. He tried not to look at what was left of Grass and stepped over the bloody remains that were scattered across the area.

  Pickle could see Laz, now wrestling with one of them as they both fell out of the ladies toilets in the offices. The thing was on top of him, and Laz was trying his utmost to fight off the creature, but Pickle felt Laz was too weak to last too long. Laz was weedy; he was unfit and was on the wrong side of forty.