“Not straightaway.” Marsden revealed a sinister grin. “We’ll make him suffer first.”
Hutty pulled away with Marsden next to him. He looked in his wing mirror and could see the black jeep that Jamo was driving following behind.
They were heading to Gnosall.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Vince and Mildred could still hear the sound of shuffling feet behind them and remained sitting down with their backs to the door.
Mildred yawned and began playing with her bat.
Vince nodded at the weapon and asked her, “What’s the deal with that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well ... why a bat? Why a spike at the end?”
“Obvious, ain’t it?” Mildred released a short laugh and added, “In the beginning I used whatever I could get my hands on. I came across a bat when I was checking out a house. I used it for a week, but it ended up breaking. A week later I came across another one.”
“Another one? We’re hardly a nation of baseball lovers.”
“I got it from a sports shop.”
“I prefer a machete any day. Gets the job done straightaway.”
“It’s a lot easier with this.” She nodded at the sharpened nail at the end of the bat. “Don’t like using a blade. You have to get too close to the bastards to put them down.”
“Nah.” Vince disagreed. “A bat is too messy.”
“I disagree. I used an axe once, and it really boiled my piss trying to get the thing out every time I buried one into the head.”
Vince smiled and released a noise to suggest that he was amused at what Mildred just said.
“Did I say something funny?” she asked him.
“Kind of.”
“Explain.”
“You remind me of a girl that briefly stayed at my place.”
“Hot, was she?” Mildred teased.
“She was alright. A girl called Sharon Bailey, or Shaz.”
“Did you and her...?”
“With this face,” Vince laughed. “God, no.”
“It’s not that bad. I suppose you could always wear a mask.”
“Cheeky bitch.”
“I saw a group of people wearing hockey masks once.”
“Oh?”
“I was in the woods, not far from here, and saw four people with white masks, carrying knives.”
“Why masks? Intimidation? To prevent blood hitting their faces?”
“No idea. Never asked them. Not sure if they were good or bad guys.”
Vince ran his fingers over his short grey hair and a smile stretched across his face.
“Are you a Rugeley girl, Mildred?” he asked her.
“Not really,” she replied. “I kind of lived everywhere.”
She was vague and Vince decided not to push for any more information. This young woman was now going under a different name, so it was obvious she wanted to keep her old life away from new people. She had opened up a little to Vince, and he thought that that was progress. Mildred was new, so there was plenty of time for her to open up a little more. Maybe even find out her real name.
“I was thinking about the Rugeley Fair that used to be every year in the summer.”
“I think I went to one once,” Mildred laughed gently.
“They used to set up stalls and have these pathetic raffles where you get to win tins of beans or spaghetti hoops.” Vince shook his head and cackled, “There was even a throwing a Wellington boot competition, I remember that. I think there was a donkey ride once. They used to charge kids to ride on Billy the donkey. One year he never showed up and we all assumed he was dead. Never saw him again.”
Mildred held up her bat and turned to the side and looked at Vince. “I think it’s time to go.”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s keeping Pickle, but we’re gonna have to go sooner or later.”
Vince nodded and stood up, holding his machete. Mildred stood next to him and the pair of them stared at the door, waiting for someone to open it.
“You want me to get it?” she asked.
“I feel like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s a film about two outlaws. In the end they get trapped in this cave, just the two of them.”
“What happened?”
“They had to shoot their way out. Died in the end, or at least I think they did. The picture kind of froze at the end.”
“We’ll get through his.”
“Will we?”
“Fucking right we will. Ready?”
Vince shook his head. “No.”
“Let’s go then.” Mildred grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Quint headed inside the outpatients building and could see Rowley down the corridor. Rowley was in a wheelchair and struggling to get it going.
Quint started laughing and yelled, “If you’re struggling now, wait till you get outside on that rough ground!”
Rowley tried to turn around and eventually Quint stood in front of him and both men were face to face.
“You’ll need some help,” Quint said. “It’s the least I can do after the chocolate bar incident.”
“It’s just a bit stiff, chap.”
Quint took a step backward and inspected the wheelchair. He rubbed his chin and said, “My wife had one of these years ago when she fell down the stairs.”
“Oh, right.” Stephen grunted and twisted his neck. “Was she drunk?”
“No.” Quint shook his head. “She didn’t hoover the bedroom, like I asked, so we had an argument on the landing and I gave her a slap.”
“So you pushed her down?”
“No, I didn’t. I just told you. I slapped her and then she fell. There was no pushing involved.”
Rowley looked at Quint and was speechless.
Quint began to snigger and slapped Rowley on the shoulder and said, “Just joking.”
“What?”
“She fell down after tripping up.”
“You’re a sick man, Quint.”
“Yep. I’ll never change.” Quint ran his fingers through his grey beard and added, “Right. Back to this wheelchair.”
“I know.” Rowley moved his backside a few times, trying to get the thing to move. “I just don’t understand how it’s not working. I have crutches, but it’s tiring using them most of the day.”
Quint bent down and flicked a switch that was near the right wheel. He stood up and smiled and said, “Helps if you take the brake off first. I’ll catch up with you later. Gonna go out for a walk.”
*
For almost twenty minutes Karen hung around the area where the greenhouses and the shed were based, talking to people of the camp, until she saw Alan once more. Drake’s brother was alone and had come from the other side of the grounds where they kept the vehicles parked.
She watched as the man waved and talked to people. He seemed a popular figure, despite the fact she hadn’t seen him in the first week they were there.
He was talking to two women.
Karen recognised Patricia Johnson, but didn’t know the name of the other one. They were conversing and Patricia smiled and looked over Karen’s way, making her blood boil.
She was certain she was being talked about, but chose not to go over there and confront them.
It was a private conversation and they’d only deny it.
Alan walked away and Karen waited for the man to disappear round the corner of the building before following him.
Karen walked over, trying to be as casual as possible, and popped her head round the corner to see Alan now talking to Quint. The conversation was short, and Alan soon moved on and went into the outpatients building.
Quint was hanging around and scratched at his thick grey beard.
Karen released a sharp whistle and beckoned the man over.
“What am I, a fucking sheepdog?” Quint laug
hed.
“What did he say to you?” Karen asked, looking over both shoulders.
“Who?”
“Who do you think?”
“Alan?” Quint scratched again and added, “Just asking how I’m settling in, that’s all.”
“Anything else?”
“What is this?” Quint laughed. “What’s going on?”
Karen rubbed her face and was unsure whether to say anything. Was she being paranoid? Was she overreacting?
“Just tell me what he said to you, please.”
“He just wanted to know how I was doing.”
“And that’s it?”
Quint thought for a moment. “He asked how I knew you guys.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him I met Vince and the two youngsters a couple of weeks ago. Is something going on?”
“I don’t know yet,” Karen sighed. “It’s probably nothing. Just don’t tell Alan I was asking about him, okay?”
“Yes ma’am.” Quint mocked in a Texan accent, and then saluted her.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” Quint laughed and continued to mock. “Can I go now? Or do you want to know the last time I had a shite?”
Karen walked away in a huff and was about to head back to the clinic, but she spotted Darren. He was slightly hunched over and looked to be in discomfort. She thought it was the IBS, but she was wrong.
“What did Drake say?” she called over.
He looked her way and she knew straightaway that he had been assaulted.
“Did Drake do this?”
Darren never answered.
“Right, I’m gonna go and see him.”
Darren never verbally protested. He never tried to stop her either.
Karen stormed into the reception building and headed for the staff room. She opened the door and could see Drake with his back to her.
“What the fuck did you do to Darren?”
Drake slowly turned around and snarled, “What are you talking about?”
“Did you hit him or—?”
“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?” Drake folded his arms. “What’s it to you anyway? Are you sucking him off?”
“Don’t be so foul.” Karen twisted her face and said, “He looked in a bad way.”
“He’s always in a bad way, that cunt,” Drake snapped. “He’s constantly sniffing, he’s never well, and he shits himself...”
“He has IBS,” Karen corrected the man. “I don’t think he shits himself. He just—”
“Whatever.” Drake sat down at the table and looked up at Bradley. “Is this the real reason why you’re here? Trying to fight Double D’s battles for him?”
“I was just saying...” Karen stopped and swallowed her anger. There was no point in arguing with Drake. His leadership style was more autocratic than John Lincoln’s, Lee James’s and Vince’s. She didn’t agree with his heavy-handed approach, but knew if he tried that shit with Vince or Pickle, especially Pickle, then he’d be getting a slap. She didn’t think that would happen. Drake picked his victims carefully and some days she liked him, whilst other days she didn’t.
She decided to change the subject. “Anyway, I wanted to speak to you about something else.”
“Oh?” Drake looked up, impatience scrawled all over his face.
“Your brother’s up to something.”
“Alan is always up to something.”
“No, I mean something strange is happening.”
Drake produced a long childish groan, and said, “Explain.”
“I bumped into Findlay. He said he was off to play cards. I followed Findlay and saw him meet up with Alan and a few others.”
“And?”
“There was about six of them, and they were there for some kind of meeting.”
Drake rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. He thought for a moment and seemed annoyed. Karen guessed that Drake was more annoyed that a meeting had taken place without his knowledge and without an invite, and it hadn’t even occurred to him yet what the content of the meeting was about and whether it was counterproductive to his leadership.
“Okay.” He released a yawn and added, “Let me handle it.”
“And how are you gonna do that?”
“I’ll have a word with Alan,” Drake said. “If they are planning something, then I’ll be letting them know that I’m onto them. Maybe it’ll change his mind on whatever he’s planning.”
“And maybe he’ll continue with whatever he’s planning, but be sneakier about it.”
“Listen to us pair of paranoid fools,” Drake laughed.
Karen was satisfied that Drake was going to have a word, but she didn’t want any more hostility towards the people who used to live at Colwyn Place, Little Haywood, and said to Drake, “Do me a favour.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t tell them I followed them. It’ll cause unrest.”
“I hear you.” Drake nodded.
“Us Colwyn lot still aren’t the most popular of people,” said Karen. She didn’t have to explain. Drake knew the reason why Karen wanted him not to bring up that she followed Findlay.
“No shit.”
“I know you’re okay, because you’re the one that invited us here and that’s why I’m telling you this.”
“And because you have no one else to confide in with Pickle and co being away. Is that it?”
Karen nodded. “I’m not paranoid, Drake. I’m certain that something dodgy is happening.”
“Okay.” Drake nodded. “After my chat with Alan, I’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Thank you.” Karen was satisfied with Drake’s response and was about to leave the staff room. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes, sugar tits?”
“Leave Darren alone.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Vince and Mildred stepped back as soon as the door opened, and could see the outline of the dead coming towards them.
They ran out into the room, but the door they had come through was unintentionally blocked by the dead. Mildred was the first to put one down, swinging her bat at the side of its head.
Vince drove his blade through the face of the next advancing one, but it was enough to put it down with the machete going upwards and piercing the brain. The remaining four stumbled towards them simultaneously, and Mildred managed to ram the spike at the end of her bat into one of them before she was grabbed.
Vince put another down, the blade going through the skull, but was also grabbed and wrestled with the dead creature as Mildred was struggling with hers.
Vince’s machete was still embedded in the dead’s skull and was grabbed by a female ghoul before he had time to take it out.
Mildred’s bat had been dropped and pushed her dead assailant away to give her time to pick the bat up. She swiped at the creature, only knocking it over, then brought the bat down twice, cracking its skull and damaging the brain.
She stepped behind the remaining female Snatcher that Vince was still wrestling with and drove the spike into the back of its head. It stopped what it was doing and remained still for a few seconds before dropping to the floor.
“Well, that was easier than I thought,” Vince panted, trying to get his breath back.
“No wonder,” Mildred joked. “I did most of the work. I was still putting them down while you were dancing with Beryl.” Mildred pointed to the creature on the floor.
“Beryl?”
Mildred shrugged, “Whatever the fuck her name is.”
“I think it’s time to leave,” Vince sighed. “Not happy with Pickle, to be honest with you. I would have been up here ages ago.”
The two crept downstairs, both breathing heavily, and necks twisted constantly as they reached the ground floor and progressed through it.
They stepped outside and both stood and paused to get their breath back to normal. Vince was breathing heavier than Mildred and once they were ready to leave, h
e noticed another Snatcher stumbling towards them.
“That’s not good,” he moaned.
“It’s just the one,” Mildred laughed.
“I know. But how did it get past the van? Why didn’t Pickle or one of the others put it down?”
The two looked at one another and were thinking the same thing. Vince strolled towards the Snatcher that looked like it had turned many months ago. Half of its face had no skin anymore and its skeletal features were exposed. The clothes it used to have on were now torn rags, and the top half revealed the grey skin on its torso and ribs poking out. A lot of the dead these days looked bloated, which was either due to gases or eating victims and having the food nowhere to go. This one was different. This one was almost skeletal.
“I’ll get it,” said Vince.
Once it was put out of its misery, Vince turned and walked towards Mildred.
He stopped when her eyes widened, and before he could turn, she yelled at him to duck. He did just that. It was an instant reaction.
He was convinced that Mildred was going to whack or stab an advancing creature that somehow Vince hadn’t spotted or heard, but he was wrong.
Still crouching, he turned on his heels and couldn’t see anything, apart from the creature he had put down a few yards away.
“What was it?” he asked with confusion, now standing up.
“A wasp.”
“A fucking wasp?” He looked annoyed. “Is that it?”
“Ever been stung by one? Hurts like fuck.”
Vince shook his head, walked away and Mildred followed. They turned a corner and the pair of them were on the main road, but there was no van.
“I don’t like this,” Vince said.
“I thought it was strange that they never came looking for us,” said Mildred. “Do you think—?”
“He would never have left without us.” Vince scratched his stubbly chin in thought, and couldn’t fathom where his friend and other companions had gone.
“Can’t see any sign of a horde,” Mildred said. “I wonder what the piss happened.”
“Don’t know.”
“What shall we do now?”
Vince threw his hands in the air and elevated his shoulders. “No idea. We can wait a while, but we’ll need to head back to Stafford on foot. It’ll be too dangerous to hang around this place in the dark.”
Snatchers Box Set | Vol. 5 | Books 13-15 Page 37