Snatchers Box Set | Vol. 5 | Books 13-15

by Whittington, Shaun

  Alex seemed excited with his new company and said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go first.”

  “If you want,” Mildred sighed, and was in no mood for going over the macabre past.

  “I was working the Stafford streets, around late Saturday afternoon, and then my phone started going mental.”

  “Working the streets?”

  “I was a Traffic Warden,” came Alex’s short explanation.

  “Oh.” Mildred was unimpressed and tried to joke, “I bet you used to slap tickets on ambulances and vehicles that belonged to people with disabilities.”

  “That’s usually what most people think about when it comes to us wardens,” Alex sighed, and hated the stigma attached to the profession he used to have.

  “Most of those wardens are wankers,” Mildred laughed, “Let’s be honest.”

  “I had a job to do.” Alex’s face was stern and never understood Mildred’s sense of humour, or appreciated it. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  Mildred nodded and realised that she had overstepped the mark.

  “So I decided to go home,” Alex continued, “and found my wife and my son had been killed. The dead had managed to get into the house. No idea how.” Alex paused and decided to take a moment. He rubbed his swollen throat and said further in a quaver, “I couldn’t stay. The mess...”

  “I understand.” Mildred tried to stifle a yawn, making her eyes water, and Alex could see she was in no mood for telling stories.

  He wasn’t angry for her lack of enthusiasm she was showing towards his story. It was something that could wait, he thought. He was certain that she wasn’t a rude individual. He smiled and thought that she probably had a physically demanding day.

  “Look, why don’t you get your head down for a bit? You look exhausted.” Alex said, “I’ll wake you up in two hours and that’ll still give you plenty of time to get to Stafford. You’ve only got two miles to go.”

  Mildred could feel her eyes getting heavier. The thought of a couple hours sleep sounded wonderful, but she didn’t know this man.

  She gave in and said, “Sounds good.”

  “Look.” Alex held up his hands and added, “You don’t even know me. You can use the spare room, lock yourself in, take your bags and bat with you, and I’ll knock you up when it’s time.”

  She nodded. Lock the room? He had read her mind. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought. “Sounds too good to be true.”

  “What do you say?” Alex looked on and gave Mildred a huge white-teethed smile.

  “Okay, but I could do with something else to eat.”

  Mildred stood and announced that she fancied a packet of peanuts. She asked, “Will I get them from the cellar?”

  “No.” He snapped again, rousing her suspicions. “There’s none in there. I’ve already looked.”

  It appeared that every time she mentioned the cellar, Alex became jittery. She brushed it off, told the man that she didn’t fancy them now, and then asked Alex to show her to the room.

  “With pleasure,” he said, and his mood changed once again and another forced smile appeared on his face. “It’s upstairs. Just follow me.”

  “Okay.”

  She picked up the two bags and the bat and followed Alex upstairs.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Drake walked side by side a tearful Ronnie and watched as the youngster went by the guard and waited for the gate to be slid open.

  Ronnie had a bag on his shoulder and inside was some food and a bottle of water. Not many knew he was leaving, and the eighteen-year-old looked distraught that he was being sent out on his own.

  Pickle was behind the pair of them. He wasn’t happy that the young man was being booted out and asked Drake if he could give the man some words of encouragement before he left. Drake agreed and thought that Pickle was going to come out with some ‘religious nonsense.’

  Drake opened the gate and once Ronnie stepped out of the hospital grounds, Pickle told Drake to give him a minute with the young man.

  Drake nodded and hung back as Pickle had words with Ronnie. Drake watched from ten yards away as the two males conversed. Pickle had both hands on Ronnie’s shoulders as he spoke and Drake tried to lip-read what was being said, but it was impossible.

  The youngster tucked his bottom lip in and nodded gently as Pickle continued to speak, and then he gave the young man a hug.

  Pickle walked away and an intrigued Drake asked, “What did you say to him?”

  “I said that I think he’s gonna make it.”

  Pickle rolled the gate shut and watched as a distraught Ronnie walked away. He never looked back once.

  Drake had disappeared back into the building, and Pickle could see Vince and Karen exiting the building through the same door that Drake had walked in.

  “What do yer reckon?” Pickle asked the pair of them.

  “What do I reckon to what?” Karen was the first to respond.

  “His punishment? Bit harsh, don’t yer think?”

  Karen and Vince looked at one another and it was apparent that they agreed with Drake’s decision.

  “He had already been warned once,” said Karen. “And he could have killed David.”

  “I think David handled himself well in the end.”

  “Only because he was desperate.”

  Pickle turned and looked at an unusually quiet Vince Kindl and asked, “What about yer, Vince? Yer pretty quiet.”

  Vince hunched his shoulders and said, “What does it matter? He’s gone, I didn’t really know him, and to be honest he was a bit of a prick to David. I’m surprised you’re being so nice to him.”

  “But he’s only eighteen,” said Pickle.

  Vince turned and was distracted by the voluptuous Patricia Johnson. She walked by, smiled, and waved at all three.

  Vince shook his head, his eyes gazing at Patricia’s swinging bottom.

  “Give me strength.” Pickle rubbed his face and added, “Yer like a child.”

  “I know,” Vince purred. “But she’s lovely.”

  “Yer have got no chance,” Pickle cackled.

  “You reckon?”

  “Vince,” Pickle sighed. “Since I’ve known yer, yer have tried it on with Karen, Joanne, and now yer ‘ave got a thing for Patricia. I know Rosemary was an occasional lover, but—”

  “It’s the apocalypse, Pickle. You have to try and get whatever you can.” Vince moaned and was saddened when his thoughts went to Rosemary. “Rosemary was a nice woman, always up for a laugh. And she had no qualms dropping to her knees and smiling like a doughnut.”

  “Jesus.” Karen shook her head. “You’re a feminist’s worst nightmare. She’s dead. Have some respect.”

  “You’re right, Karen.” Vince smiled thinly and said further, “But that Patricia is making me dream all kinds of scenarios.”

  “Fuck’s sake,” Pickle laughed.

  “That Patricia reminds me of a donkey and a onion,” Vince said with a snicker

  “What do yer mean?”

  “A nice ass that makes me wanna cry.”

  “Jesus,” Karen scoffed. “It’s like I’m in the middle of a Carry On film.”

  “It’s a compliment.”

  “That’s not a compliment, Vince.”

  He rubbed his face and groaned, “Whatever. I can’t be bothered to argue with you.”

  Karen said, “I reckon you make those kind of jokes because you’re insecure.”

  Vince looked at Pickle for backup, but the ex-inmate held up his hands and told Vince that he was on his own with this one.

  Karen hunched her shoulders. “These lines you come out with don’t work, so why use them? Why don’t you try and be nice for a change?”

  “I am nice.”

  “You said to Joanne that she should make more of an effort. It’s the apocalypse for fuck’s sake.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought: she’s a good looking woman and she brought make-up with her, so why not
show it off?”

  Karen shook her head. “The day I dress for a man is the day they dress me in my coffin to see Jesus.”

  “What’s up with you?” Vince smiled and gave Pickle a playful nudge. “Are you on the blob?”

  “No,” Karen sighed. “If I had to bleed to find you annoying, Vince, I’d be anaemic.”

  Pickle released an uncontrollable laugh, making Vince blush.

  “Okay, okay.” Vince held his hands up and started to walk away. “I took a shafting there. Well done, Karen. Until next time.”

  Karen screwed her face in confusion as she stared at the back of Vince and wondered where he was going.

  “Where’s he heading to?” she asked her male friend.

  “To lick his wounds,” Pickle smiled. He then adopted a serious face and informed Karen, “I think he’s doing a few hours o’ guard duty.”

  Karen called Vince back. He shuffled back over and asked her what she wanted.

  “I’ll take a look at the hand tomorrow. Maybe even think about lowering the dosage of the painkillers you’re taking.”

  Vince saluted Karen and walked away once more.

  Pickle asked Karen. “When does this clinic open?”

  “It’s open. Just waiting for someone to come to me with a problem, and then I walk over with the patient and see what I can do for him, or her. There’s a guard there outside, so it’s protected.”

  Pickle released a moan and was immediately asked what was wrong.

  “Nothing, Just a wee bit tired.”

  “How’re your ears looking these days?” Karen stepped to the side of him and tried to look inside and said, “I can’t really see without my little torch. I’ve got some steroid cream, if you want it.”

  “It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

  “Are you sure?” She rested her hand on his shoulder, lifted herself up and tried to peer inside and get a better look.

  “Leave me alone, woman,” Pickle joked and pushed her hand away. “Stop pestering me.”

  “It’s the nurse in me,” said Karen. “I have something inside me that likes to help people.”

  “Didn’t yer refuse to check Vince out, back at Colwyn Place, when he claimed to have found a lump in his testicles.”

  “Yes, I bloody well did. That pervert just wanted me to feel his balls.”

  Pickle smiled and said, “I’d miss that psycho if anything happened to him.”

  “Vince? That prick will have a long life.” Karen released a light chuckle and added, “Nothing’s going to happen to Vince.”

  “I hope yer right.”

  Pickle didn’t tell Karen the dream he had. It was just a stupid dream, but it was so vivid that when he woke up it took him a few seconds to realise where he was.

  In his dream, Vince had died. And Harry Branston woke up with tears in his eyes, making him realise that he loved Vincent Kindl.

  He loved him like a brother.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Mildred’s eyes opened and she soon sat up, unsure where she was at first. She looked around in the dusky bedroom and decided to stretch her legs. She peered outside and could see that it was still daylight, but had no idea of the time, and hesitantly exited the room. She wasn’t planning on leaving just yet, so she left her bags and bat there.

  She had a peek into the living room and kitchen, but could see no sign of Alex. She tried another bedroom and it looked like a room belonging to a female. There was a dressing table and a make-up bag. Mildred smiled and went over to the table and sat on the stool. She went through the make-up bag and the old days when she used to go out with the girls came flooding back.

  She picked out a pair of tweezers and started to giggle like a child. She leaned forwards and checked out her eyebrows in the mirror and began to pluck. She hadn’t been plucked for over three months and rapidly took away the stray hairs around her forehead, and then she removed some unwanted hair on her chin.

  She was an attractive girl, but she always hated the fact that she had to pluck her chin once in a while. She blamed her dad for this. He was a hairy man and she always remembered his hairy back when she used to go swimming with him as a child. She was certain she had inherited his ‘hairy gene.’

  “I’ll take this, thank you.” She popped the tweezers into her pocket and then left the room.

  She went downstairs and into the bar area, but there was no sign of Alex. The place was deathly silent and, for a reason that she wasn’t aware of, she never called out his name.

  She went by the bar and could see a metal door handle that she never noticed before. The door was the same pattern as the wooden panelled walls, and was something that could have been easily missed walking by it. The cellar, she thought.

  She remembered Alex getting flustered when Mildred mentioned going to the cellar.

  She looked around and stepped closer to a small wooden door that had to be the cellar to the pub. She checked to her sides and then tried the door. To her astonishment it opened.

  The door was only opened a few inches and an awful smell assaulted Mildred’s senses, making her gag. She pulled her T-shirt over her mouth and nose, and then stepped in. There was little light in the cellar, but she could see that it was reasonably well stocked with food. It may not have been healthy snacks, but beggars couldn’t be choosers in this new world.

  Her head turned and she stepped towards a pile of something, she didn’t know what, that she could see in the corner. The closer she got, the stronger the smell became. She stopped and didn’t go any further and she knew the pile were dead bodies that had been dumped. She put her hand over her mouth and nose and tried not to gag.

  “What is going on?” she murmured to herself.

  “They were already here when I arrived.”

  Alex’s voice startled Mildred. She turned around and gasped as her eyes clocked him standing in the doorway, hands behind his back.

  She tried to explain, “I was just…”

  “Don’t try and explain yourself.”

  Mildred tried to leave the room, but Alex stood in her way and refused to move. She told him, “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  “I invite you in,” said Alex, “and you go sneaking around my place. Very disrespectful.” He wagged his finger in front of his face and made a tut-tut noise with his lips, patronising the young woman.

  “You killed those people, didn’t you?” She pointed at the pile of bodies in the cellar.

  Alex shook his head with zero emotion on his face, but she could tell he was lying.

  “You’re lying,” she hissed.

  “What does it matter?”

  “They either invited you in, or you broke in, and then you killed them so you could have the pub and supplies all for yourself.”

  There was a long silence from Alex. He didn’t think there was any point lying to the woman. She had already sussed him out.

  Still with his hands behind his back, Alex released an impatient sigh and said, “I suppose there’s no point lying to you. You’re not as daft as you look.”

  Mildred was beginning to become nervous and said, “You said you came here and found this place empty.”

  Alex smiled, but Mildred could feel creepiness behind the smile. “A nice family took me in.”

  “And you killed them.”

  He flashed a devilish smile and decided to come clean. “As they slept. Survival of the fittest.”

  Mildred shook her head and couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Were children involved?”

  “Just a bit,” he laughed gently.

  “Just a bit? What the fuck does that mean?” Mildred snapped. “There either was or there wasn’t.”

  “There was an infant.” Alex smiled thinly and there looked to be a hint of regret on his features. “I smothered him first before knifing the parents. It was a difficult thing to do, which I’m not proud of, but I want to survive.”

  Mildred tried to get by Alex once more, to go upstairs, and he asked her where
she was going.

  “I’m going to get my bags and go.”

  Alex waggled his head from side to side as if he had just asked her a question and she had given him the wrong answer. “Those bags are mine now.”

  “You can fucking dream on, pal.”

  “Now, now. Don’t be like that.”

  “You’re a cunt.”

  “And you’re gonna die ... after I’ve had my fun with you.” Alex’s eyes widened and revealed a smile reminiscent of an evil clown from a horror movie.

  Mildred tried to put on a brave face, but, in truth, she was beginning to fear for her life. “Is that right?”

  Alex nodded and could see Mildred shaking her head, and grinning. He lost his smile and asked her what she was grinning at.

  “Wow,” she said, her voice quivering. “You’re an apocalyptic stereotype.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “World’s gone to shit, so you think it gives you the right to bully and rape me, is that it, eh?”

  “I can do what I want.” Alex took his hands from behind his back and revealed that he was holding Mildred’s bat in his right hand.

  “After all, I’m the one holding the bat, not you.”

  “Now who’s been sneaking around?” Mildred gulped and said, “Alex, we can talk about this.”

  The man laughed and a shiver rattled Mildred’s spine as she could see evil etched on his face. “That story I told you earlier was bullshit,” he said. “I don’t have a family, and my name isn’t Alex either.”

  He pointed the bat at her, the spike an inch away from her chest and told her to go upstairs.

  “I’ll have this bat pointing at you all the way up, inches from your back,” he said. “So don’t try any funny business.”

  He stepped to the side and made a gesture with his hands for the young woman to leave the cellar. Reluctantly, she did as she was told and slowly walked through the bar with Alex following her and made her way upstairs.

  He told her to go into the room and get on the bed.

  “What are you gonna do?” Mildred asked him.

  “Don’t ask stupid questions. Just do as I say and I’ll let you live.”

  “Be honest with me,” Mildred said.