He sighed, "What's the story with them?"
"The guy...the thing in the suit...used to be the deputy manager of this place, Ian Wilkes." Jade gulped and tried to control her emotions. "The rest used to be instructors and personal trainers."
Pickle could see that most had the same attire on apart from the defunct Wilkes, and two beings that wore black sweaters with Personal Trainer on their back.
Jade added, "Wilkes wouldn't let any of us leave when it first broke out. He thought it was some kind of hoax. We persuaded him at least to close the gates, which he sent two instructors out to do exactly that. Steve Round came back bitten; he's the...the...thing in the first aid room. Wilkes was then attacked himself; he panicked and left the two instructors inside the first aid room."
Jade cleared her throat and added, "Wilkes then told everyone to get into the dance studio and stay there until help arrived, because they weren't sure whether it was an airborne virus. We also didn’t really know if these things could climb the fence and if they were strong enough to break in, but I refused. I told them that I needed to see Chris and Steve, but Wilkes screamed at me that I could be infected if I went anywhere near them and I could bring it back to the studio. He said that if I went, I wouldn't be aloud in the dance studio. I couldn't just leave Chris and Steve in there on their own. So I went back and saw the carnage.
"When I realised there was nothing I could do, I then ran up to the dance studio and hammered on the door to be let in, but they all, in unison, refused to let me in, just in case I had picked up a bug or something. I didn't realise at the time, but that refusal had saved my life. It was a long day, and I decided to go for a sleep, surprisingly, considering what was going on. I slept for an hour in the office, paranoid that the defunct Steve Round could open the door and get out of the first aid room. I then wandered around the gym and watched the TVs. I then heard some screaming from the dance studio and ran up to see everyone had been infected; the only one left was a man called Richard, who was being attacked by Wilkes and his cronies."
"So Wilkes was bitten," Pickle began, "and infected the rest o' them. Yer a lucky lady." He shook his head and released a long whistle, sounding similar to a released bomb from a Spitfire.
They both returned back to the group and Pickle announced to the group what he had seen in the dance studio, and that they should go and look for themselves if they felt like it. He then turned to Karen and told her that there was also a Snatcher in the first aid room.
"I want you to get rid of it," Pickle instructed. "The dance studio is locked, so we're safe from them, but the first aid room isn't. We can't all fit in the office, so if that thing gets out during the night, while we're all sleeping…"
"Okay."
"Dump it outside through the fire exit."
"Sure thing. I only have a few bullets left."
"I know. We're gonna have to leave the dance studio alone. Try and just use the one bullet."
Karen released an exhausted and negative sigh.
"What's up?" Pickle smiled warmly and touched the top of her hair.
Karen said, "I was just thinking."
"Careful."
Ignoring Pickle's attempt at mild humour, she continued, "Maybe it would have been better to kill Bonser."
Pickle shook his head. "Nah. We're not cold-blooded killers."
"Even you?"
"Look, back in the days of my…empire, shall we say, most of the time that violence had to be used, it was slashings, shootings and knee cappings. I only had two people murdered, and even though that was done on my order, I never killed anyone directly." He added, "As for killing him; those things would have come eventually. All in all, it's probably better we're away from the house. Can you imagine spending more than two days with seven of us in one house? With no electricity, water—"
"Probably would have killed one another eventually."
"Exactly." He sighed, "We just seem to be running from one place to the next."
Karen patted Pickle on the knee and strolled down the corridor, leaving Pickle to explain to the group that they will be hearing a gunshot within the minute.
Karen peered into the first aid room and saw the carnage. She opened the door gently, as the Snatcher stood motionless with its head facing the back wall. As soon as she opened the door, the erroneous smell assaulted her senses. She pulled her T-shirt over her nose, and crept inside. She carefully shut the door behind her and the gentle click of the door aroused the creature's suspicions—if he had any. Hoping the gun wasn't going to jam, as it still hadn't been cleaned, she aimed and squeezed the trigger successfully. The thing fell backwards against the wall, re-decorating the cream wall with blood, and it continued the decoration as the back of its head slid down the wall as it slumped to the floor. She turned around quickly when the door opened, and saw Paul standing there. "I thought I'd give you a hand taking it outside."
Karen nodded. "Probably a good idea," Karen agreed. "With two of us, we can carry it out, rather than smearing the corridor with the back of its head." Karen then looked around at the blood-smeared room with an assortment of limbs. "We can clean up the rest at a later date."
Paul's nose twitched at the awful smell of death. He looked around the room and saw that it looked like something from a modern art studio, the way the assortment of blood was scattered around the floor and walls. He picked up the arms of the deceased and Karen took the legs. Dodging Steve Round's blood that was on the floor, they took the short walk to the fire exit and opened it with no hesitation, as the grounds were secure.
They were at the back of the centre and could see through the metal fence, acres and acres of farmland, knowing that opposite them was the entrance gates, the start of a new town and an assortment of ravenous creatures who couldn't be bargained with. They dumped the body in the corner of the garden and went straight back inside. They made sure the door was shut securely and both walked through the corridor and entered the gym area, where a distraught Kerry Evans ran over to Karen with Jack in tow; he had both hands clasped on his head.
"What's wrong?" Karen quizzed, seeing that both set of parents were upset.
"It's Thomas," Kerry sniffed. "He's not well."
Karen walked into the office and looked over to the young boy who lay on the office's couch. His head was covered in droplets of cold sweat and his frame shuddered every now and again.
Karen took the boy's temperature and felt his weak pulse. She could feel his parents' glare drilling into the back of her head, aching for answers.
Karen took a look at the parents and said, "I think he has a fever."
Both parents revealed a relieved sigh, and Karen instructed them to keep hydrating the boy whenever he was awake. She got to her feet and walked out of the office.
"Everything okay?" Jade asked.
"Fine." Karen smiled.
Karen walked with long strides halfway across the gym area and made eye contact with Pickle.
"How's the kid?" Pickle stood up from the seat of a rowing machine he was sitting on and shuffled over to Karen. He was beginning to feel tired, his legs ached, and his right foot had created a blister near his big toe.
Karen looked behind her to see if there was anyone in earshot. Satisfied there was no one around, she gulped, and refrained from saying anything.
Pickle could tell by her face that there was something wrong. "What is it?"
Looking stony-faced, Karen answered, "I think Thomas is infected, from what happened outside."
Pickle sighed, "How did that thing manage to release blood out of its mouth anyway; I thought they were supposed to be dead from the neck down?"
Karen shook her head. She had no answer to his question.
Chapter Fifty One
Paul Parker had found an old-style radio in the centre's canteen and took it into the gym area where everyone was situated. He began to fiddle with the knob to tune it in. The radio was running on a couple of batteries and he sat down on one of the treadmills while he t
ried to get a station. Nobody else paid attention to what he was doing apart from Jade who sat next to him, and once he found a station, they both listened intently while the rest of the group continued to converse with one another.
Once Pickle heard the noise coming from the radio, he broke away from the conversation he was having with Karen and shouted over to Paul, "We've heard it all before. It's usually the same old shit."
"Just checking anyway," Paul responded back with the shrug of his shoulders.
He had finally found an English-speaking station.
"...known for a while that something was up. The level of violence was incredible. Most of the media, who are controlled by big corporate companies, never reported the stuff that was happening. But with Facebook and Twitter, and other sites, where videos can be uploaded, it was impossible to ignore. I suppose the government must have thought they could control the situation; if you panic people too early or unnecessarily, it affects the country financially, and the country is in its worst recession in its history as it is.
"Then it was announced on the Saturday night by what media reps we had left, but a lot of governments across the world were disbelieving the 'alleged' reports, especially our enemies, shall we say. Then borders and flights were cancelled, but it was too late by then. In the last few days Ireland and France have received thousands of refugees; a bitten person had made it on board on a ferry to Holland—a child. Obviously the concerned parents had no idea that this was the way it spread. Despite there being pockets of carnage in France, at the time it wasn't on its knees like the UK. Anyway, when the ferry arrived, well, you can guess the rest. A few of the passengers were infected, others were in comas, ready to reanimate. Others were ripped apart while surviving passengers had locked themselves in the cabins. Some even jumped overboard.
"What are we living for now? Everything is turned upside down in the world, and our lifestyle is destroyed, with the loss of electricity and clean running water. How are we going to survive, and what would we value? People will discover that what is most important in life, isn’t the type of car they drive, how big their home is, how cool their last vacation was, or how attractive they are, but the simple fact that they have relationships, community, and love. We need to focus on what is important...these things won't last forever; they will be destroyed. As people, we need to survive.
"A lot of people are asking: Is this thing global? Last week I would have said, no. But from reports I'm hearing, I'm afraid to say that we now have a global catastrophe on our hands. It's not just a UK thing anymore, and the British Government, wherever they are now, or what is left of them, are being condemned by most world leaders and the World Health Organisation for their reluctance to address this weeks ago. As far as reanimation is concerned, I think the general consensus is that it took about an hour to turn, but I've seen people take up to four to eight hours to turn. We still don't know why this is the case…"
Paul then lost the reception. He had no idea who was speaking, whether it was a scientist, politician…whatever, but there was confidence in the voice, and the 'global' remark unnerved him.
Jade shook her head, then took the radio off of Paul and then shook the radio. "It must be the batteries."
Paul glared into nothingness. "Shit. This thing is global. We're never gonna get any help."
Pickle walked over to Jade and Paul, and said with derision, "And this has come as a surprise to yer?"
"I just hoped—"
"Don't. The only people that are gonna help us now, are ourselves."
*
As the minutes dragged by, Thomas' condition had deteriorated massively and Kerry and Jack knew that he had been infected. Kerry was in the office and held her unconscious boy and whispered nursery rhymes into his ear, her emotions forcing her words to shudder, as she feared for her little man. Jack Slade found her behaviour a little confusing and wondered if his boy's situation was down to the spray of blood he received in his eye and mouth when they were outside.
Kerry kissed her son on his icy head, tasting the salt off of it, and looked out of the office to see Karen and Pickle chatting to one another, heatedly. She could feel her nausea increasing, as she knew exactly what they were talking about through their body language and the occasional glance that was thrown her way. Kerry saw the Browning that was sticking out of Karen's jeans at the front and had made a decision, a decision that was going to change her life, a decision only a mother could make.
She kissed her unconscious son once more, and lowered his head back onto the couch. She looked up at Jack and smiled thinly at him, her rainy eyes wasn't fooling anybody. He could see in her face that she was losing hope and it appeared that they were both thinking the same thing. Jack fought back the tears and raised his head, hoping that would make a difference to stop the water from falling.
"Could you get me some water?" she asked him in a hoarse voice.
"Sure." Jack turned on his heels and left the office and was outside in the gym area. A concerned Paul and Jade asked how Thomas was, but all Jack could muster was a shrug of his heavy shoulders. Kerry got to her feet and walked out of the office and headed towards Karen and Pickle; as soon as they saw her presence, they stopped talking. Without a thought, Kerry grabbed the handle of Karen's pistol and stepped back a few yards and pointed the gun at both Karen and Pickle.
"Don't come any nearer!" Kerry screamed, forcing Jack to run from the water cooler and head back over. She indiscriminately pointed the gun at Pickle, Karen, Paul, then Jade, and even Jack, and then repeated this action three more times.
"What the hell are you doing, Kerry?" Jack was flabbergasted at how his ex had turned.
Kerry's uncontrollable tears fell as she continued to point the gun. Her hands shook, making the pistol wobble uncontrollably. One thing Pickle was aware of: an out-of-control individual with a gun was even more dangerous than someone who knew what they were doing. She began to slowly walk backwards. She screamed, "I know he's infected! I just know!"
Pickle stepped forward. "Look, Kerry—"
"Stay back! Or I'll blow your head off!"
Even though he knew the safety catch was on and Kerry had probably never held a gun in her life, Pickle wasn't taking the risk and raised both hands in the air in defeat; his body language promising that he wouldn't take a single step more.
"I could see you talking." Kerry glared. "He's my son! You hear me? Mine! I'll deal with this!"
Kerry pointed the gun at a surprised Jade, who raised her hands automatically and begged for her life.
Kerry said, "I'm going back into the office to be with my son." She nodded towards Jade. "Give me your keys."
Said Jade, "The key to the office is also the key to most rooms in the centre."
Pickle stepped in to Jade's defence. "If she gives yer the key, then the rest of us could be in potential danger."
Kerry nodded and sighed, "Okay. You lock the door once I'm in." She instructed Jade. "And if I hear that door being unlocked during the night or any other time, so help me God..."
Jack stepped forward, but was pulled back by Paul, which he tried to shrug off. Then they started to scuffle. Jack threw a couple of weak and misfiring punches, screaming at Paul to leave him alone. Paul refrained from retaliating, knowing that Jack Slade wouldn't last a minute if he decided to lash out.
Pickle walked over to the scuffle and tried to calm down the melee. By this time, Kerry had already entered back into the office and had shut the door. Jade adhered to Kerry's instruction without consulting anyone else, and nobody tried to stop her when she walked over and locked the door. Karen walked over next to Jade and tried to look through the rectangle part of the door, which was quickly covered, as Kerry had pulled down the blind. She wondered if Kerry knew how to use the gun.
The demise of poor little Thomas had been discussed by Karen and Pickle and they had come to an agonising agreement, for the safety of the group, that Thomas should be dealt with, but in the most respectful and gentlest
way possible. Karen thought that Kerry must have picked up on their signals and put two and two together and came up with the correct answer.
Karen was still angry with herself that Kerry had whipped the gun from her without giving her time to react, but the more she thought about it, she was glad a fracas had been avoided. It was those situations that the gun could have gone off and they could have ended up with another casualty.
"Give me the key." Jack stood up and sneered at Jade, who, to her credit, shook her head.
"Yer heard the woman," Pickle snapped at Jack. "If yer try to go in, you'll get a bullet."
"She won't shoot me."
Pickle smirked at Jack's arrogance and said, "And who are you, exactly? A man that treated her like shit in the past? A shitty father that hardly saw his son? I think she'll put a bullet in yer no probs, sunshine."
Jack stormed over to Pickle with both hands outstretched, ready to grab him by the throat. He was too quick for Paul to hold him back, who failed to grab him. Pickle, with his right leg, swept Jack's legs, forcing the man to fall to the floor with a painful thud. He groaned in pain and began to sob. Pickle felt for the man and didn't want to take any action, but had no choice.
Jack's sobbing stopped as soon as he heard the painful wails coming from inside the office. The unmistakeable cries of sorrow were the worst and the saddest sound that any of the group had ever heard. It could only mean one thing when a woman cried out like that, with that much pain in the voice.
"Thomas!" Jack cried, and ran towards the office door again. Jack banged on the door and was dragged back once Kerry screamed and threatened to shoot at the door. Pickle and Paul dragged the manic father back, still screaming his son's name, knowing that he was gone. But now the worry, as far as the group was concerned, was what Kerry was going to do next. If she stayed in there for longer than an hour, then she'd be face-to-face with her dead son in the form of a Snatcher.
To shoot one's child would take bravery to a new level, and Karen wasn't sure whether she had it in her, as well as the fact that she wasn't sure that she knew how to use the gun. Both her doubts were quashed immediately when she heard a solitary gunshot, which made the whole group jump. In reaction to the gunshot, Jade released a short scream, and Jack threw his head in his hands and began to sob. His son was dead. A minute of silence passed, and members of the group began to look at one another, as no one knew what was going on inside the office, let alone inside Kerry's head.
Snatchers 2: The Dead Don't Sleep Page 23