Snatchers: Volume One (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 1-3)

by Shaun Whittington

  Karen was the first to move, and walked over to a shell-shocked Jade Greatrix and took the key off her. She looked to the silent and stationary group, and walked over and opened the office door. She peered in to see six-year-old Thomas Slade lying peacefully on the couch, while his mother lay next to him with her arms draped around her boy. It was apparent that both persons had received massive head wounds, due to the blood that was being soaked up by the material from the carpet and the couch itself.

  She gulped hard and went in to pick her gun up that lay on the floor. She took the Browning and put the warm weapon into her jeans' front pocket. She peered sadly at the two, and understood why Kerry Evans had done what she had done.

  How could any mother live with herself after killing her own child, whether it was the right thing to do or not?

  Thomas not being around anymore was probably something that Kerry couldn't cope with either, and Karen could understand why Kerry felt she had no other option.

  The world outside looked bleak, and what was the point of trying to survive if your own flesh and blood didn't make it? What was the point in carrying on?

  Karen looked again, and came to the assumption that Kerry must have placed the gun into the mouth of the child before doing the same to herself, as the only trauma she could see on both individuals was the damage to the back of the head. She had seen this type of wound before when she was in Stafford's A and E department a year ago. At that particular time, she couldn't sleep for a week after witnessing the arrival, but now she seemed more desensitised to violence since the horrific outbreak had exploded into life. Despite all of this, what she was looking at now was the saddest thing her eyes had ever witnessed.

  "I'll take care o' them," Pickle announced, while in the background he could hear the screams from Jack Slade who was on his knees, with his arms wrapped around himself. Pickle's eyes were glassy and couldn't stand to look at the two bodies of mother and son. He stared at the back wall, not even making contact with Karen, in case the corner of his eye clocked a fraction of the macabre scene in the office.

  Pickle said in a quaver, "Over the last week I've buried Laz, and I've taken care o' Davina. But I'll give these two the best send off yet."

  Karen blew out her lips releasing carbon dioxide full of tension. "We can't leave them in here all night."

  "We'll do it now," another voice announced. It was Paul. Tears rained from his eyes. "I'll get Jade to take Jack to another room while we ship them out." Paul then broke down and walked away. He thought of his own family.

  Chapter Fifty Two

  June 20th.

  It was a miracle if any member of the group had managed to get a full night's sleep. Jade had managed three hours, but the rest had either none, or an hour at most. Most of the late night and early morning had been spent comforting Jack Slade. The burial the night before was a quick affair, and Pickle chose to bury them by a young tree that was planted at the back of the building. Pickle said a few tearful prayers and the whole thing was over after ten minutes. Jack spent all of those ten minutes standing with his wide, disbelieving eyes, raining tears.

  It was now Wednesday morning. Jade was still new to the group and was very quiet, and only spoke when she was spoken to, mainly. The group was split; Jack had been on his own for the last hour. He was sitting in the spin class and the last time Pickle looked in, it appeared that, miraculously, Jack had collapsed into dream world after a sleepless night. Paul and Karen were sitting up on the leather couch that was near the reception area, both heads nodding as they were losing the battle to keep awake.

  Pickle could see a nervy Jade strolling over towards him and he greeted the tense twenty-five-year-old with a big friendly smile.

  "So what happens now, Harry...er...Pickle?" Jade asked him. Her eyes were red; she had never witnessed anything like this in her life, and it was badly affecting her.

  Pickle shrugged his shoulders. "Not a lot. Survive, I guess, whatever that means." He looked at Jade and was about to ask her about herself and her family, but decided to refrain from forcing Jade to dig up her past. He assumed that most of her family were possibly dead, and didn't want to highlight that fact when she had probably spent days putting those thoughts to the back of her mind.

  "What's gonna happen to the office?" the fitness instructor quizzed.

  He shook his head timidly and released an exasperated sigh. "Well, originally I was gonna clean the place up. But with no electricity, we have no hot water. And I don't wanna be using cold water from the sinks or the coolers to clean the place up. We'll need that ourselves, as selfish as they may sound."

  "So?"

  "So, from now on, like the first aid room, the place is out o' bounds. Give me the key to the office off yer key chain." Pickle held out his hand. Jade took a while to get the key off and eventually handed it to the man who seemed in charge of what was left of the group.

  He took a look at the key and put it into his pocket. He then looked at Jade who was confused by his actions. "The office is out o' bounds. I don't want Jack using it as some kind of unhealthy warped shrine to his kid. That wouldn't be right. I know the key is used for other doors, don't worry, I won't be losing it. If Jack…loses the plot, shall we say, I feel getting the key off you would be an easier task than getting it off me."

  Jade agreed, and even if she disagreed, she didn't think she would be brave enough to argue with the man who seemed to ooze power, not just because he was muscular, but the tone in his voice was strong and confident. She didn't know his background, but all the same, this was a man who had been out there for over a week and was still alive. Jade convinced herself that she was in good hands, and whatever he decided, she would go with it. It had been the longest and loneliest week and a half of her life, and she was glad of the company, despite now that the food supply would go down much rapidly.

  He patted Jade on the shoulder and she tearfully asked him, "Do you think we're gonna be okay?"

  Pickle opened his mouth, but then refrained from releasing any words that were dipped in negativity in order to protect the young woman. He thought about what had happened over such a short period of time: Seeing Conor Snodgrass being devoured before his very eyes, burying Davina Pointer, having to kill an infected Laz, watching his lover, KP, walking out into the darkness, ready to end his life after being bitten himself. Then he thought about the family in the attic when he and Karen arrived at Heath Hayes. He stopped himself from what he really wanted to say, as he wasn't sure Jade could take the news. She certainly wasn't as strong as Karen Bradley, even though she was two years older. He just smiled. "I think we'll be okay, if we stay where we are for now."

  He gave Jade a reassuring wink and walked away slowly. He walked past the gym area and went down the corridor, passing the first aid room. He looked into the staff room and smiled as he saw the mugs sitting on the sink top, as well as a box of teabags, a kettle and a jar of coffee. He continued with his walk, his eyes scanning his temporary new home, and reached out his hand to open the door to the fire exit. He opened it and welcomed the breeze that excitedly swirled around him. He opened the door as wide as he could and used the latch, attached to the outside wall, to hook it onto the opened fire door, just so it wouldn't shut firmly behind him while he went for his walk.

  His walk was ponderous and as he strolled around the perimeter of the grounds, he stared at the solid fence that separated the fitness centre and the farmland. His walk attracted attention and two other bodies within the grounds began to follow behind him. He walked by Kerry and Thomas' fresh grave and noticed in the corner of the grounds was Steve Round's body from the first aid room carnage. He shook his head and continued with the stroll until he was nearly at the front of the fitness centre's building; that was when he stopped in his tracks. He knew there were two entities behind him, but never bothered to turn around.

  He took in the fresh air from a foul new world, and saw the army of monsters at the front of the gates that, when opened, provided the ent
rance to the establishment. There were also many across the perimeter of the front of the fence. Pickle took in a deep breath and said a soft prayer to himself and looked back up. Jesus Christ. There's fuckin' hundreds of 'em!

  If he had to estimate, he would guess that there was a least three...four...maybe even five hundred of the things. The fence was solid; but would it hold if there were thousands of them trying to force their way in? He wasn't sure, and had a vision of a potential scenario in his mind.

  He daydreamed about the steel railings finally giving way, and having to jump the fence and run along the farmers fields at the back of the centre. He didn't know where the fields led, but he supposed it depended on what direction they ran in. The direction that seemed the safest was behind them, but that would eventually take them back to Rugeley. His head went to the side ever so slightly as he heard the two beings behind him that were only a matter of yards away. It was Paul Parker and Karen Bradley.

  Paul Parker's hand eventually grabbed Pickle's shoulder softly. It was a friendly gesture, and Pickle replied the gesture with a smile. Karen appeared to his right and hooked her arm in his, and caringly placed the side of her head against his arm.

  "Doesn't look good, does it?" Paul said with a mixture of scepticism and realism.

  "Not at the moment," was Pickle's response. His gaze remained transfixed at the crowd of cannibals. Two weeks ago, his heart would have been elevated to an alarming rate, but now, this was normality, whether they liked it or not.

  They watched some of the creatures moving away from the front of the fence and a handful spilling out to the sides of the fence, left and right, and moving forward.

  "Shit!" Karen exclaimed.

  "Yep," Paul said with defeat. "Looks like in a matter of hours, the whole fence—the whole place'll be surrounded. When's this going to end?" Paul snapped.

  "Dunno," Karen remarked. "But the question is: Will we be here when it does?"

  "Trust me," Pickle sighed and looked out and scanned the scavengers that ached for their flesh. "This is just the beginning. Oh well, another day to get through."

  Paul's heart jumped as more could be seen clambering from the nearby town. He looked up at the grey atmosphere above him, and muttered to himself, "We may not be around when...if, all this comes to a head." His thoughts went to his wife and daughter and felt an urge to cry, but decided to wait until he was alone.

  Pickle sighed, "Why are we so insistent on surviving anyway? Why are we putting ourselves through this? Is death such a bad thing?"

  They walked away from the scene, back into the fitness centre, and wondered what the hell they were going to do next. Do they stay, and hope that the ghouls would eventually become weary and leave for elsewhere? Or, do they leave, in case the crowd gets bigger and ends up breaking through the barrier?

  No one knew what was for the best.

  Chapter Fifty Three

  In the afternoon, Pickle had spent half an hour walking around the sports centre and came back with a look of defeat on his face. Karen knew that face, and had to ask, "What's up?"

  Pickle sat on one of the treadmills and conversed with Karen, out of earshot from the rest of the group. "I've been into the kitchens, looked at the vending machines, and there ain't much here that's gonna last us for more than a day or so."

  "So what do you suggest?"

  Pickle glared at Karen as if he was getting her to read his mind. She thought for a second then blew out her cheeks and nodded. "Well, I'd be up for it. Not too sure about the rest."

  "Up for what?" came a voice from behind them. It was Paul Parker; he had been put on a watch by Pickle to keep an eye on the things outside and report if there was any sign of the gate eventually giving way.

  Pickle and Karen remained tight-lipped, and this irked Paul somewhat. "Look," he began, "to get through this, we need to be solid as a group. Not keeping secrets from one another."

  His statement made sense, and without consulting with Karen, Pickle cleared his throat and asked Jack and Jade to come over and join them.

  Jade was sitting with a shell-shocked Jack; they both slowly got to their feet and stood over a sitting Karen and Pickle. "Right, guys," Pickle spoke up. "We don't have much food and water in this place that'd last us to the weekend, let alone for a week."

  "So what do you suggest?" Jade was the first to throw a query at the male leader.

  Pickle sighed, "Yer not gonna like it."

  "I'll go," Jack stepped in.

  "You don't even know what it is yet." Karen cleared her throat, waiting for Pickle to finish off what he was about to say.

  "I do know what it is," Jack spoke. "You want to get supplies from the van."

  The silence fell among the group and Pickle could feel Paul and Jade's eyes on him. His silence suggested that Jack was right about the plan that was being created in Pickle's mind.

  "No, no." Jade shook her head and then looked at the rest of the group as if they were crazy. "I can't go out there."

  "That's okay." Pickle tried to calm Jade down, as her tears began to fall from her eyes. "If yer wanna stay behind, that's fine, but I need at least another person."

  "I'll go." Jack Slade volunteered for the second time. This was followed by Paul Parker and Karen Bradley volunteering in unison.

  "Thanks, guys." Pickle stood up and looked at Jack. "I don't think yer should be going, Jack. Not with what yer going through. Me and Paul will go. No offence, Karen, but we're stronger."

  Paul added, "I think once the food runs out, we should leave this place via the field behind the centre. If those things keep turning up, the fence—"

  "Let's just worry about now," Pickle interjected.

  "I want to go." Jack was vehement with his response and Pickle was impressed with his determination, despite losing his son.

  "What's the plan?" Paul asked.

  Said Pickle, "Okay, first of all, we need some kind o' distraction."

  "What do you mean?" asked Karen.

  "Right, these things are out there in their hundreds, but if we somehow create a distraction, we could get to the back o' the van and empty what's in there, put the food, water…whatever, in bags and run the perimeter of the fence and get back here."

  Halfway through his speech, Jack looked to his left, and glared out of the windows that were in the reception hall.

  Jack began to walk slowly towards the reception area, while Pickle continued. "It only has a flat, but it may as well have four flats the way it affects the speed 'o the van...it..." Pickle stared at Jack. "Where the fuck are yer going?"

  Jack was being followed by the rest of the group; firstly Paul, then Jade. Karen and Pickle then decided to follow suit and wondered what was drawing and almost hypnotising Jack Slade towards the reception window, where the view of the entrance could be seen.

  Jack stopped once he arrived a foot away from the reception windows, and his gaze continued. "I think it might be a little too late to execute your plan," he spoke nonchalantly, as if he was under the spell of a hypnotist.

  The remaining four stood behind him, and could all see the infected in their hundreds, swarmed around the perimeter of the fence. The entrance gate, where Lee and Oliver had met their fate, was giving way with the weight and pressure that was being applied by the endless amount of bodies that were desperate to get in and feed. The only possible way out would be out the back, across the farmland.

  The gate was being rocked back and forth as if they knew how to open it, and then it eventually, and predictably, opened slowly. This caused a mass of bodies to squirm their way through the small gap, and the more bodies that tried to squeeze through, the bigger the gap created with the pressure of the ravenous hundreds that knew that there was food inside the building.

  "Oh shit!" Jade cried out. She turned to Pickle and began to beat him on his chest. "This is your fault! You brought them here! You brought them here!"

  Pickle allowed Jade to take out her frustration on him. She was right. It was his fault.
When they left the van, there were only six of them up ahead. As soon as Lee and Oliver were devoured, like flies round shit, they slowly turned up in their hundreds. It was probably good for the scared and trapped that were still in their houses of the nearby town, but it had put the group in the sports centre in a predicament that he was responsible for, but there was nowhere else for them to go, and they did have a very frightened boy with them at the time.

  "I'm sorry." Pickle lowered his head. "Do yer think the building will hold them?"

  Jade shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think we should take that risk. If they get in, there'll be nowhere left to run."

  "Of course it won't hold them!" Paul snapped. "It's only panes of glass we have for protection, now that they've broken through a supposedly secured gate."

  Pickle nodded and knew that there were a dozen of them inside already, in the dance studio. Pickle sighed, "Get the sports bags from the changing rooms that some o' the customers have left. Empty them, then begin to empty the vending machines and let's go out the back before they get to the front entrance." He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair as the stress was beginning to mess with his head. "And grab a few o' those dumbbell bars, we might need them." The dumbbell bars were situated in the free weights section, solid steel and twelve inches in length.

  As soon as he made the decision, Paul, Jade and Karen ran away and did what was instructed, apart from Jack Slade.

  Jack stood wide-eyed. He wasn't depressed. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself. He was giving up.

  Without Thomas, he didn't see the point in running anymore. People running, meant that those particular people wanted to survive, but he was sick of living in such a cruel, macabre world. The old one was bad enough!

  He had made his mind up. He wanted to be dead. He didn't want to go through the experience of dying, especially in this world where dying by natural causes now meant being ripped to pieces and disembowelled before your very eyes. That was too horrific to go through; he needed to think of something else. He wanted to be with his son, but he didn't want to go through the process that thousands of others had gone through.