Snatchers (Book 10): The Dead Don't Care

by Shaun Whittington

  He casually stepped out of the vehicle and went round to the other side of the truck. He opened the door, unbothered that the six were now heading back in his direction, and took out his mace. He held the weapon up in his right hand, staring at the spikes at the end, then gently rested it on his shoulder, heading over to the six dead.

  "Right, let's get this over with."

  He pulled the weapon back as he approached the dead and swung the mace from the side, at head height, putting down three all at once. The remaining three were scattered along the road and Pickle went for the female ghoul in the centre.

  He held the weapon with both hands and rammed the front of it into the beast's head. The female came off her feet and flew a few yards backwards. The other two were now getting closer to Pickle, groaning, and with their arms stretched out. He was struggling for breath and waited for the pair of them to get closer. One was behind the other and Pickle decided to put down the one in front first.

  He hit the thing at the side of its head. Surprisingly, it remained on its feet and was put down with a second blow. Its head was caved in and bled out as it lay there, stinking up the place.

  Pickle turned and gave the final one a smack with his mace. He held the weapon with two hands above his head, and brought it crashing down on the top of its skull. The spikes embedded themselves in; Pickle released the mace and watched as the beast collapsed with the mace still stuck in its head.

  He looked around at the damage he had created, panting hard, and decided to sit down on the floor, in the middle of the road.

  Pickle lowered his head, now feeling his breath getting back to normal and his heart decreasing its beat. He looked back up and saw the bashed in heads of the six beasts. He sighed, then staggered back to his feet.

  He looked at the body of one of the ghouls he had killed and wondered if she was heavy. He decided to pick them up and throw them in the back of the truck. He didn't want to get their diseased blood on him, but he didn't want them to rot in the middle of the road, only yards from where he was staying. If they were going to get rid of the dead by the wall, he may as well get rid of the other six that he had destroyed as well.

  He bent down and grabbed the arms of the female ghoul, ready to throw her over his shoulder.

  "You wanna hand?" a voice called out from behind him, making Pickle gasp.

  Pickle dropped the arms of the Snatcher and turned around, staring at the two males that were stood in front of him. Both men looked like good guys, normal. There wasn't many of them about these days.

  Chapter Fifty

  "And you are..?" Pickle raised his eyebrows, impatiently waiting for an introduction from the two strangers.

  "We're just survivors," Craig Burns began to explain. "Like yourself. I'm Craig and this is Jez." Craig Burns pointed at the youngster standing next to him.

  Pickle acknowledged both men with a quick single nod, then pointed at his own chest. "Harry. But most people call me Pickle."

  "Pleased to meet you, Pickle." Jez walked over and shook Branston's hand, then took a few steps back, standing next to Craig once more.

  "Say, is that a camp you have over there?" Jez pointed towards the concrete wall where many bodies lay.

  Pickle nodded. "It is. That's our place, o'er the wall." He then looked both men up and down, certain that they were looking for a place to stay. "It's not up to me who stays and who goes. I've only been 'ere a few days maself, yer know."

  "And what are you supposed to do to get in?" Craig asked. He looked at the houses behind the wall.

  Pickle cackled and had a look around the area where he was standing, No Man's Land. "There's plenty of houses here to choose from. Take your pick. Everybody has pretty much left."

  "True," Craig nodded, "but I'm assuming you guys have a little community going, have food, water... That wall was put up for a reason, right?"

  "Aye." Pickle smiled. "Where we're standing now is now named No Man's Land."

  Jez asked, "What does that mean?"

  "It means there's fuck all here," Craig sighed. "No food, water, security. No people to talk to."

  "That's pretty much it," Pickle began to snicker.

  "So how hard is it to get into this community?" Craig was persistent without being pushy and annoying. "How did you get in?"

  "It's a long story," Pickle sighed. "I tell yer what. Why don't yer two give me a hand with these bodies and I'll tell yer. Yer did ask if I wanted a hand earlier, didn't yer?"

  Craig nodded with a smile.

  "It's the least we can do," Jez blurted out, "considering it was my fault."

  Pickle cleared his throat and spat to the side of him. "Er ... What?"

  "Nice one, dickhead," Craig muttered, shaking his head.

  Jez continued, "We watched your camp take care of the dead from behind the wall. It was very impressive."

  Ignoring Jez's comment, Pickle asked him, "What did yer mean earlier, about it being yer fault?" Pickle screwed his face in confusion. "I don't understand."

  Craig huffed and nudged Jez, "Might as well tell him."

  "It was my fault they were in the street," Jez began to explain. He chewed his bottom lip as he shook with nerves and added, "We went to an abbey..."

  Pickle sighed and folded his arms. "And yer opened the door, after removing the water feature?"

  Craig and Jez looked at one another, but only Jez spoke up.

  He asked Pickle, "How did you know?"

  "Because it was me that put the water feature there, to keep them in." Pickle rubbed his stubbly chin in thought. He thought that the dead had come from the abbey before, because of the way they were dressed, just like the wedding party they came across the other week. It had now been confirmed.

  "Seem as though yer was the cause o' this," Pickle said light-heartedly, wearing a smile across his features. "Yer can pick up these six bodies yerself, then come with me to the wall."

  Pickle instructed Jez and Craig to throw the six bodies into the back of the pickup. Once that was done, he told them to jump in the front and he drove the very short journey to the wall, where the dozens of bodies lay from the massacre earlier on. Jez and Craig had placed their empty rucksacks by their feet and Craig now had a hold of his hockey stick. They stepped out of the pickup, immediately putting their T-shirts over their noses and hopelessly wafting the annoying flies away from their faces.

  Jez and Craig could see three confused faces that were standing behind the wall. Pickle finally stepped out of the driver's side and introduced Jez and Craig to the three faces: Karen, Stephen and Vince.

  "Guys," Pickle looked over to his three friends behind the wall. "This is Jez and Craig." Pickle looked at Stephen and said, "I thought yer were digging with the girls."

  "James is over there, helping out." Rowley explained. "Thought I'd stay here and give you lot a hand."

  Jez and Craig smiled and nodded at the three faces, and Karen, Stephen and Vince returned the gesture.

  Pickle then added, pointing at the wall, "This is Karen, Stephen and Vince."

  "Are you new arrivals?" Karen asked.

  Craig smiled at the twenty-three-year-old. It was rare these days to come across any women, let alone a good-looking one like Karen Bradley.

  "Erm..." Craig didn't know how to answer her and looked to Pickle.

  "We'll have to have a word with Lincoln," said Pickle. "Anyway, at least we know where these fucks came from." He nodded at the dead by his feet.

  Vince asked, "Where?"

  "Unknowingly, these guys released that door at the back of the abbey." Pickle pointed at the dead from the floor. "That's where they came from."

  "That's what we thought," said Vince.

  "Sorry." Jez lowered his head.

  "He didn't know," Craig said, and started to investigate the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

  Noticing this, Karen asked Craig, "Something wrong with your mouth?"

  Craig smiled. "Just an ulcer. I'll live."

  "They're
horrible things." Karen brushed her dark hair behind her ears and added, "I had three in my mouth once."

  "You're a dark horse," Vince giggled.

  "I meant ulcers, prick," Karen huffed at Kindl. "Anyway," she turned her attention back to Craig. "We have some bonjela at the house where the medical stuff is kept."

  "Medical stuff?" Craig ran his fingers through his hair and puffed out his lips. "You really do have a decent set-up."

  "Right," Pickle clapped his hands together and looked at the three behind the wall, "are yer three coming over to load the bodies in the back, or what?"

  Karen, Vince and Stephen climbed over, all landing on a patch of road that had no corpse on it.

  All six had managed to dump every single one in the back. The corpses were piled high and Pickle was aware that when driving back round to the field that was opposite Colwyn Place's entrance, one or two may fall off during the journey. He had to drive slowly and carefully.

  "Okay," Pickle panted, "all of yer, get yerselves o'er the wall and I'll meet yer by the field. Bradley," Pickle smiled and pointed his finger at Karen, "Jez and Craig are gonna be getting a few funny looks when yer all jump o'er and walk along the street, so run o'er to Lincoln and tell him what's going on."

  "Let's go then." A tired Vince was the first to climb back over the wall, followed by Stephen, Karen and Jez.

  Craig held out his hand, waiting for Pickle to shake it. "Thanks for this."

  "Yer not in yet," slurred Pickle.

  "I know that. But thanks for trying."

  "No problem." Pickle smiled. "This Lincoln fellow runs the show. If he refuses to let yer stay, there's nothing I can do about it."

  "I understand."

  "I think it'll be okay, though."

  Craig finally climbed over, leaving Pickle on his own, and the former jailbird took a look around at the desolate street, trying to imagine what it must have been like three months ago: children playing in the street, adults washing their cars that were sitting on their drives, and young couples walking along, holding hands.

  "Shame." Pickle shook his head. "A crying shame."

  *

  Karen, Rowley, Vince, Jez and Craig were now over wall, leaving Pickle on his own. Pickle peered over the wall and saw the funny looks from some of the residents that were out as Jez, Craig and the others walked down the new Colwyn Place.

  He saw John Lincoln approach the group and they all stopped and talked for a minute. Lincoln then shook the hands of Craig and young Jez and this brought a smile to Pickle's face. Looks like they're in, Pickle thought.

  He returned to the pickup, started the engine and pulled away, leaving the village temporarily. He drove through the country lanes at a slow speed, not knowing what could be around every bend. He was nearly there, nearly at the front entrance of Colwyn Place. Pickle was pleased that after two and a half months, not a lot of macabre scenes could be seen on his travels.

  Being in the countryside had its negatives with food and gas being quite a travel away, but the danger, compared to what London, Manchester and Glasgow had to go through wasn't as bad. Little Haywood did have its influx of the dead in the beginning, but the Murphys had caused more damage with their pillaging and bullying.

  Pickle pulled the pickup by the steel gate and could see that the group had already walked through. He looked to his right, to the field, and saw Karen, Rowley, Vince, Jez and Craig waiting for him. Ophelia, Elza and James Thomson were sitting down next to a large hole that the three of them had dug. It didn't look quite big enough.

  They looked exhausted, and Pickle assumed that they hadn't finished and were just having a rest.

  Pickle looked to his right to see Terry Braithwaite standing behind the gate, in Colwyn Place, holding his baseball bat with both hands. Pickle gave Terry a wave, but there was no response from the man that lived in the first house of the street.

  "Fucking weirdo," Pickle muttered.

  He then began to do a turn in the road, using reverse and first gear. Once the pickup was across the road, he backed the vehicle up and entered the field, making the short journey towards the group. On his short drive to this area he had only lost six bodies, and that was when he took a sharp left around a bend.

  As soon he stopped the vehicle, he pulled up the handbrake. The small door at the back of the pickup was put down by Vince and they wasted no time getting out the putrid smelling bodies. Jez and Craig were the first to grab a corpse and were quicker than the others. Pickle thought that they were trying to impress, now that they had been accepted into the camp. At least, he assumed they had been accepted, going by the handshake with Lincoln earlier.

  Once all the bodies had been placed on the ground, by the hole. Pickle told a worn out Ophelia, Elza and James that they should go back to the camp for a rest, and that he and the others would take over with the digging, but they seemed reluctant to leave.

  "I'm not sure that I should stay behind." Vince began to stretch. "All that lifting, moving the bodies and all that, is starting to play havoc with my back."

  "Fair enough," sighed Pickle. Pickle looked at the three shovels that were lying by James, Elza and Ophelia. "I'll dig." Pickle walked over to one of the shovels and picked it up.

  "Me too," Rowley said, and walked over to pick up the other one.

  "Now you're making me look bad," Vince scoffed. "We should leave it to the morning. These bodies aren't going anywhere."

  Karen walked over and picked up the remaining shovel, and all three began to dig to increase the width of the hole for the dead.

  Vince moaned, "Aw, come on, Bradley. Not you as well."

  Karen snapped back, "Just because I've got tits, doesn't mean I don't know how to use a shovel."

  Pickle stopped digging for a short while and told James, Ophelia and Elza to get themselves back to the street and wash themselves down. Jez and Craig too.

  They all left together, with Jez eyeing up Elza, suddenly realising that she was the woman from the other day that had stepped out of the vehicle at Slitting Mill and urinated. A smile broke out on Jez's face, but he decided to keep quiet. It was the same group.

  "Why didn't you just empty the pickup once the hole was ready?" Kindl asked Pickle, chewing his top lip in thought. "Rather than dumping the bodies on the ground, then having to drag them into the hole once it's finished?"

  "Are yer gonna help?" Pickle sighed, digging away. "Or are yer gonna stand there and moan?"

  "I don't have a shovel." Vince then turned around and watched as Jez, Craig, James, Ophelia and Elza left the field, crossed the road and went through the gate once Terry had slid it back. He glared at Elza's backside and what a backside it was.

  "I can see you staring," Karen piped up.

  "Can you blame me?" Vince guffawed. "Have you seen that arse?"

  "I know." Pickle nodded. "That Craig fellow must work out."

  "Har-de-fucking-har." Vince smiled and added, "I'm obviously talking about Elza Crowe. Man, I'd give her something to crow about."

  "You're an animal, Vince," Rowley said with a smile, and continued digging. "Doesn't Ophelia take your fancy?"

  "To be honest, the way I'm feeling at the moment, I could mount a goat."

  All three diggers burst into hysterics.

  "I'm glad you think it's funny." Vince shook his head, but there was a grin on his face. "But I'm as horny as a priest in a titty bar."

  A noise was heard by all and their sniggering stopped immediately. All stopped digging and they looked at one another, then Vince.

  "What did that sound like to you?" Karen asked nobody in particular.

  Vince responded, "Like a person in trouble. It sounded quite far away."

  "Pickle?" Karen glared at her male friend. "What do you think? What do you think we should do?"

  Pickle shook his head. He didn't know. It could have been anything, not necessarily a human.

  "Pickle?"

  Pickle threw the shovel to the ground and walked towards the pickup. "E
verybody get in the truck."

  Pickle waited outside as they all got in the vehicle, all carrying machetes, and Karen also had a six inch blade in the front of her pocket for added insurance. Pickle got in last, at the driver's side, and sat in the seat. He took out his machete and asked Rowley at the end to pass him his mace off of the floor. Pickle sat it on his lap, fired the engine and drove away.

  The pickup took no longer than a minute to reach the Wolseley Bridge. The garden centre was to their left and the old pub was to their right when Pickle slowed the vehicle down. He took a right at the small roundabout and was on the Stafford Road for seconds when they could see, a few yards in front of them, four Snatchers. Further on, there were some that had been slaughtered, but the three nearest to them had their backs to the truck and a bald one was bent down on its knees, trying to attack whoever was underneath it.

  Maybe the individual was already dead and being feasted on, Pickle thought.

  He stopped the vehicle, grabbed his mace and hurriedly approached the three that were standing. He swung the mace to the side at the first creature, the spikes of the weapon embedded themselves into the skull, and it dropped. The other two turned round and quickly made their way over, but they had only managed to shamble a few yards until Pickle destroyed them with the powerful mace. The last one standing received a full bloodied strike to the top of its skull, caving in its head and face and pushing out black diseased brain matter that fell out onto the road. It then fell, and an exhausted Pickle staggered over to the bald obese creature that was on its knees, but Karen Bradley gently pushed Pickle away with the palm of her left hand. She walked by him with a knife in her right hand, leaving the machete in her belt.

  "I'll take care of this cocksucker," she sniffed.

  Vince, Stephen and Pickle watched as Karen stuck the knife into the back of its hairless head, and watched as its body dropped on top of the individual underneath.

  Chapter Fifty One