“What do yer mean?”
“Well, for example, if some of my guys are out on a run in Rugeley and it’s getting dark or too dangerous to get back to Stafford, I would like to think that you could put the cunts up for the night. And the same for you if ever you’re passing Stafford.”
Pickle looked at Karen and she gently shook her head.
He turned to Drake and said, “I think it’s going to be a no.”
“Simple as that?” Drake narrowed his eyes and looked annoyed at the answer, but was trying to be calm about it. “You’re not even gonna ask the people in the street, put it to a vote?”
Pickle shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I don’t wanna give up so soon. I would rather keep the offer a secret from the rest. Don’t wanna split the camp in two. I know Terry won’t go for it.”
“Terry?” Drake screwed his face in confusion.
“One of yer guys went down his basement and killed his daughter. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place. Although some would say that taking Craig and Jez in started the ball rolling.” Pickle could see that Drake was perplexed and explained further. “Terry’s daughter had turned in the beginning and he kept her down there, tied up. Nobody knew. Until one of your guys went down and got attacked.”
Drake rubbed his chin and was baffled by the bizarre story. “Well, that’s a bit fucked up.”
“It certainly is ... was.”
“Okay,” Drake sighed, finding it difficult to hide his disappointment. “It’s an open offer. If ever you change your mind...”
“Thanks. We appreciate that.”
“Right then.” Drake opened the door and turned to look at his two guests. “We’ll take you back the same way we came. Ready?”
“Are you coming?” Karen asked as she and Pickle headed out of the staff room.
“Yes,” said Drake. “It would be impolite not to.”
Chapter Forty Eight
Stephanie Perkins had been crying for the last ten minutes.
Her thoughts to what had happened to Ophelia White and especially Elza Crowe had started her off. Her eyes were still wet and were warm, and she decided to step outside and cool herself down.
She stepped out of 2 Colwyn Place and leaned against the wall. She wiped her eyes and looked around the street. She could see Gail Smith looking out of her window, a woman she hardly knew, and could see her waving at her. Stephanie smiled and waved back.
She could see something to the left of her and turned around to see David MacDonald standing by his doorstep. He turned and walked across the front lawns to reach Stephanie.
“Hey,” she said as he approached.
“Hello.” Young David smiled. “Just seeing how you are. You still upset about losing those two women.”
“Ophelia and Elza,” Stephanie snapped. “Their names were Ophelia and Elza. And yes, of course I’m upset that they’re dead. You didn’t see the mess they were in. I did.”
“Sorry. Stupid question.” David cleared his throat and looked awkward. He was thinking about leaving Stephanie in peace, but she spoke up.
“I’m sorry, David.” Stephanie stood up straight and sat down on her doorstep. “I’m not having a good day, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Please.” She patted part of the doorstep that she wasn’t sitting on. “Sit down.”
David did as he was instructed.
“This place is so empty, creepy,” said David, trying to muster up some kind of conversation. “Nothing like Sandy Lane.”
“I was only there a couple of days,” Stephanie moaned. “Then it went bat shit crazy.”
“My dad was already dead when it happened. I managed to escape with Charles Pilkington and his parents, but...”
“I heard what happened,” Stephanie said.
The two sat in brief silence and stared out in the street. Stephanie looked to her right and could see a bored Paul Smith standing by the gate, scratching the back of his neck and yawning.
“I wonder what’ll happen in the future,” sighed David.
“That’s a strange comment,” Stephanie said. “Nobody knows what’s gonna happen in the future.”
“Do you ever think about...?”
David never finished his sentence. Stephanie had an idea what David was going to ask her, but she decided to allow him to do it himself.
“Think about what?” she pushed him, trying to speed him up.
“We’ve seen so many people dying.” David released a sigh and dipped his head by an inch. “It makes you wonder how and when are we gonna go. I’m only fourteen.”
“Same here.” Stephanie reminded him, a little annoyed at his self-pity. “I wouldn’t think about it if I were you. You’ll only get depressed. It’s a short life anyway, but now it could be even shorter.”
“At least Pickle seems to have ironed out the problems with that Drake guy. That’s something, isn’t it?”
Stephanie nodded. “It’s certainly a positive. But another problem will turn up. It always does.”
“That’s quite a negative attitude to have,” David began to laugh.
“True. But I’m right.”
“Open the gate!” a voice yelled, alerting both David and Stephanie.
They both knew it was Stephen Rowley’s voice and it was unlike Rowley to shout like that. The two of them gasped and could now see why.
As the gate opened, Stephanie stood up and put her hands on her head. “Oh no.”
Chapter Forty Nine
It had been twenty minutes since Rowley had yelled at Terry’s replacement, Paul Smith, to open the gate. Paul stood, gazing at the floor. The bat he had was being clasped by a very sweaty hand and he was unsure whether he had it in him to use it.
He cast his mind back twenty minutes ago and the look on Rowley’s face when he returned. He had never seen Stephen Rowley that upset, and his face was ashen, pale as ivory. He helped Stephen and Joanne carry Vince’s body to his bedroom, and then went straight to his post as a distraught Joanne said that she would take care of things from there.
Stephen had told Paul that they had to take care of six of the dead, but more were heading Colwyn’s way, and this made him nervous. He was certain that the area of Little Haywood, especially being a village in the middle of the countryside, was almost a Creeper-free zone.
Of course, that wasn’t the case in the beginning. The dead were everywhere, but as the weeks ticked by and the neighbourhood fought back and began to kill some of the beasts, the numbers dwindled.
Although some survivors of Colwich, Little and Great Haywood wouldn’t want to admit it, the Murphy family had helped get rid of a lot of the dead, but that wasn’t because they were helping out. They did it because they loved the violence, and removing the dead gave them better access to start stealing from others for their own survival.
Jim was miles away, mentally, thinking about the past, his old job and his colleagues. He jumped when he heard something slap against the wiry fence that was on either side of the steel-sliding gate. Paul dropped his bat in shock, and took a step backwards as he could see a small group of the dead pressing up against the fence, not against the gate, and desperately trying to get at Paul.
Jesus, he thought. They’re here already.
He then took another step backwards and looked down at the fence, to the right, and could see more coming down the lane. He then looked at the gate. It was steel, but it wasn’t a thick gate.
“Shit.” Paul shook his head and muttered under his breath. “If they all push against the fence and try and get into the street, the gate won’t hold.”
He never used his whistle. He simply ran away from the gate and yelled at the people who were out, Bonser, David and Stephanie, to get inside. They didn’t need to ask why. They could see for themselves.
They could all see for themselves.
*
Nobody spoke until the pickup reached Milford, passing the Ba
rley Mow public house, and it was Pickle that decided to speak up. Pickle asked why they weren’t returning to Colwyn in style. Drake had no idea what Pickle was talking about, so Pickle explained and reminded Drake that on his first ever visit, when he picked Paul Dickson up, he turned up in an Audi with tinted windows.
“Oh, that,” Drake began to laugh. “That was just me trying to make an impression. Besides, I think one of the brake pads have gone, so I need to wait until it’s fixed.”
“Where on earth did yer manage to get a vehicle like that anyway?”
“When we stole the mopeds, we went by a showroom and took a few cars. We crashed one of them, but the Audi has managed to survive so far.”
The pickup went up an incline and was now travelling on the narrow country lane that had trees to either side, the same place Craig was picked up by Drake’s men the day before, and Drake told the driver to slow down and not to go over thirty. The lanes were unpredictable, had no crash barriers at either side, and on top of that the dead could be around. If the driver took a sharp bend too quick and a horde was just around the corner, the result could be catastrophic.
The road straightened up, the Wolseley Arms pub could be seen up ahead, and Drake said, “Well, this wasn’t in the script.”
Drake and the other two passengers, Pickle and Karen, didn’t have to ask what was happening. They could see for themselves.
They could see four of the dead staggering across the road ahead of them, but all could see more on the hilly fields to the right. Seven in all.
“We’ve never had problems with the dead around our camp for a while,” Pickle murmured. “I don’t get it.”
“Something must have attracted them,” Drake spoke out. He pointed up at the field and they could see that the dead were heading down the hill. “There’s more coming.”
The driver was told to turn left at the pub and to be careful going over the Wolseley Bridge. There could be a horde over the bridge, or further up.
The driver turned and the vehicle had passed two more of the dead as it approached the bridge. Once over, they could see three or four scattered up ahead, but nothing that would be considered as a major danger for these experienced survivors.
Drake turned around and made sure his four bikers that were following had made it by the staggering dead. He then faced the front, as the vehicle went around the bend, and knew that he was just seconds away from Colwyn Place’s main entrance.
The driver slammed on the brakes and released a profanity when he spotted a crowd of Snatchers around Colwyn’s gate, aching to get in. They all stared in aghast and Pickle was the first person to speak.
“What happened? How did they get here?”
“Who gives a cunt?” Drake sniffed. “The fact is that they are here.”
“We can’t kill that many,” Karen sighed and continued to gaze out, staring at the thirty or so Snatchers gathered around the main gate, trying to get in.
The sound of the mopeds and the pickup had attracted the attention of some of them. Six members of the dead broke away from the crowd and began to shamble over.
Karen looked over her shoulder and said, “We better hurry up and make a decision before the strays from behind us catch up as well.”
Drake peered and could see a two-foot gap where the crowd of the dead stopped on the road and a large hedge at the other side.
“We can squeeze through that gap, between the dead and the hedge,” said Drake. “We may hit a few on the way past, and then we can sound the horn and get them away from that gate, as well as the strays that are behind us. They’ll follow us and we’ll lead them miles away from your street, then just speed up and leave the dead cunts in the middle of nowhere.
Pickle spoke up. “I’m not sure about yer squeezin’ through the gap idea.”
“Trust me. They’ll follow.” Drake began to laugh. “Once we get through that gap, we’ll be like the pied piper, leading the rats away.” Drake turned to the driver, about to instruct him to drive, but Pickle spoke up.
“We’re gonna have to think o’ somethin’ else,” he said and pointed ahead. The herd were pushing against the steel gate, the gate began to creak and was looking weak, and it was ready to give way from the sheer weight from the determined crowd of the dead.
“You’re right.” Drake stroked his chin and groaned, “Let me think.”
Pickle moaned and could see that the dead were seconds from pouring into Colwyn Place. “Gonna hurry up and think, Drake? They’re getting in.”
Karen shook her head. “I know it was never the strongest gate in the world, but how is that possible?”
“When there’s enough of them, and they’re pushing in the same direction,” Drake began. “They can move a fucking car out of the way if they think food’s on the other side. I’ve seen it myself.”
”Fuck this. I’m getting out.” Pickle snapped. “We’ll all get out and cut our way through these fuckers.”
“We’ll all die, Pickle.” Karen shook her head and grabbed Pickle’s arm. “There’s too many of them.”
There was a silence for a few seconds and then for the first time, Drake’s driver spoke up.
“What do we do, Drake?” The driver looked panicky.
“Wait.” Drake held his index finger in the air and could see the six dead that had broken away from the crowd were around the bonnet. “I’m still thinking.”
Pickle cleared his throat and said softly, “Could yer hurry up, because that gate is about to fall over?”
Chapter Fifty
Drake slapped his driver on the arm and said, “Get out.” He then turned to Karen and Pickle. “All of you, get out. I’m gonna try something insane.”
Pickle knew immediately what Drake was planning.
“Don’t do it, Drake,” he said. “If yer drive through them, yer will get yerself killed.”
“No, I won’t.” Drake snickered. “If I drive through them, I’ll remove a lot of them, then it’s up to you three and my four guys behind to remove the rest.” He nodded to some of the dead that were getting closer to the pickup. “Now, hurry up and get out, otherwise I’ll be taking you three cunts with me.”
Pickle, Karen and the driver left the vehicle and went behind the pickup. After the driver had a short discussion with the four moped riders, they got off their bikes and pulled out their blades, ready to put down the dead that would be still standing after Drake had driven through the crowd.
Drake moved over to the driver’s seat and took his wooden bat from behind it, putting it onto the passenger seat next to him.
He looked at the dead crowd and moaned, “Oh, Drakey boy. I hope you know what you’re fucking doing.” He thrashed the engine and pulled the vehicle forwards, slamming the gas pedal.
The vehicle knocked down four of the six advancing beasts that had broken away from the crowd and heading towards the vehicle, leaving Pickle and the rest to deal with the two remaining ones. Drake shifted through the gears quickly as he now headed for the crowd of the dead that were congregating by Colwyn’s entrance.
He took in a deep breath, pressed the back of his head on the head restraint, and braced himself for impact. The vehicle slammed into the herd, and blood and guts decorated the windscreen and parts of the windows of the driver’s and passenger door.
He kept his foot on the gas pedal as the pickup temporarily slowed, and was surprised that the vehicle eventually went by the entrance.
Drake drove another twenty yards and pulled the vehicle over. There were many on the floor, but not all were dead. Some were trying to get back to their feet.
Pickle, Karen, and five of Drake’s men progressed forwards and began to hack and stab their way through to get to the main gate. Seven Snatchers perished, but they were too late. The gate gave way and fell to the floor with over twenty of the dead piling through into the street; some were on the floor that had fallen with the gate.
Pickle took a sideswipe with his machete and watched as the large blade ente
red the side of the nearest ghoul’s head. He front kicked the beast to the floor, freeing the blade, and took out another one, taking the head clean off. There were three left as the rest had entered the street, and Karen slammed her own blade into the front of a Snatcher’s head, just above the eyes, and the remaining two were taken out by Drake’s men.
Drake exited the pickup, holding a bat, and was the first to enter the street with Pickle, Karen and the other five guys, including the pickup driver, following behind. Pickle smiled when he saw that most of the people of the street, Rowley, Bonser, Gosling, Burns, Braithwaite, Hammett, were out and were all carrying a weapon of some kind and putting down the dead.
Most of the dead had their backs to Drake and the rest, apart from one. A female ghoul, dressed in a dirty green summer dress, headed towards Drake, arms outstretched and ready to tear him to pieces.
Drake casually raised his bat and smacked the ghoul on the head, putting it down. “Fuck off!” he snapped. He then headed towards the crowd. Bodies fell and the street seemed to be handling the dead well, but a scream was heard.
Pickle put down one of the dead with his blade and saw three of the dead on top of Danny Gosling and Stephen Bonser.
Both were screaming, both were being eaten, and both were close to death. Pickle couldn’t help them, but he still went over and put down the one that was on top of Danny, and then turned to the other two, who were on top of Stephen, but now getting to their feet after spotting the former inmate.
Pickle looked over and could see that his people and Drake and his men were winning the battle, and only five of the dead were left, except the two that were now heading for Pickle. He looked down and could see that Danny Gosling was dead, but Bonser was still conscious. Nevertheless, they were both infected.
Pickle was exhausted and panted as he raised his blade, and gasped when the two lunged for him at the same time. Pickle fell to the floor, dropping the blade, with the two on top of him. Both sets of teeth from the male Snatchers were getting close to Branston’s neck and Pickle had a hand wrapped around the throat of one of them, whilst the other one by his side, to his right, tried to claw at him.
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