“Better take a seat then.” Mildred sat on the grass bank.
“May as well.”
Vince sat next to her and his mind was plagued with worry for Harry Branston, David and Richard, and especially young Stephanie. She worshipped Vince and he loved her like a daughter.
“They’ll be fine.” Mildred rubbed Vince’s arm, noticing the concern on his face.
“I fucking hope so.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Gary said you wanted to see me.”
Drake looked up and saw his younger brother standing by the door of the staff room. Drake looked at his twenty-nine-year-old brother and noticed his dark hair was in dire need of a wash.
“Come in and sit down,” Drake ordered. He was already sitting down and reached his leg out, pushing a chair out at the opposite side of the table.
Alan was reluctant to sit down immediately. He hated being ordered about, especially by his bigger brother.
“I’m fine standing up,” said Alan.
Drake smiled at his brother’s stubbornness. “Just sit the fuck down. This is serious.”
Alan did as he was told and puffed out a breath; he folded his arms like a petulant child.
“I want to ask you a question,” Drake began, “and I want you to answer honestly.”
“Go on.”
“Okay.” Drake cleared his throat and asked his little brother, “First of all, when was the last time you had a wash? You look like shit.”
“Really?” Alan sighed. “You brought me in for that?”
“Actually, no.” Drake leaned back and asked his little brother, “What the fuck are you up to?”
Alan screwed his face and genuinely had no idea what his brother was talking about and told him so.
Drake tried to expand. “You had a meeting with Findlay and some others in the outpatients building.”
Alan sat up straight and asked, “How the fuck did you know about that? Have you had me followed?”
“Don’t matter about that.” Drake placed his hands on his thighs and leaned in, eyeballing his little brother. “You’re up to something.”
“It was just a game of cards.”
“Bollocks,” laughed Drake. “I’m warning you not to do anything stupid.”
“You’re warning me?” Alan laughed. “You think more of the new people than you do of your own.”
“That’s not true.” Drake shook his head. “Don’t forget, when you went on your one man rampage to Little Haywood, Pickle could have had you killed when he caught you. You still haven’t told me how you managed to get the dead in the back of that van. Somebody must have helped you. You didn’t do that all by yourself.”
Alan remained tight lipped. Drake had questioned him on this before, straight after he returned, and was told nothing, which was one of the reasons why the pair of them fell out.
“Anyway,” Drake sighed, knowing that he was getting nothing out of him. “I’m just pre-warning you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Or what?” Alan revealed a devilish smile and added, “Or you’ll beat me up? Sleep with my girlfriend?”
“That’s ancient history. Why the fuck are you bringing that up?”
“Bringing what up? Beating me up, like you did ten years ago because I scratched your bike? Or when you fucked my girlfriend on my settee, while Coral was pregnant, while I was drunk and passed out on my bed upstairs?”
“Have you quite finished?”
“Is that it?” Alan huffed and mocked. “Am I free to go now?”
“I’m being serious, Alan.”
“So am I.”
“The people in this place have trust in me,” said Drake. “I will sacrifice anything and anyone to keep the people here safe.”
“Including me?”
“Yeah, including you. But I suppose it depends on what you’re up to.”
“I’m not up to anything.”
“Good.” Drake smiled. “If I find out you’re plotting something that affects the new people or cause unrest in any way, I will put you down. Got it?”
Alan’s face was one of annoyance and he refused to answer his older brother’s short query.
Drake snapped, “Got it?”
Alan remained quiet and glared at his brother.
Drake huffed, “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Alan smiled, trying to annoy Drake, and slowly stood up and seemed to take an age to leave the room.
Drake sat back in his seat and felt uneasy.
He was certain that Alan was up to something, but he didn’t know what.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Vince and Mildred reluctantly strolled away from the industrial estate, unsure if they were doing the right thing. They had no idea where Pickle and the van was, but a small part of them still felt like they were abandoning them.
They reached a part of the main road where there were woods on either side. Mildred and Vince were taking no chances and walked with their weapons out.
Strolling in the middle of the road, side by side, Vince was the first to speak.
“This is nice,” Vince sighed. “Being out in the fresh air, next to a hottie.”
“A hottie?” Mildred scoffed.
“Oh, sorry.” Vince held up his hands, machete in his right. “Don’t mean to be offensive. Are you one of those feminists?”
“No, not really,” Mildred groaned. “I mean, I’m not anti-men. I had a boyfriend.”
“I thought you said your partner was a she?”
“I’m bi,” Mildred laughed.
“So you swing both ways, bat for both teams?”
“You wouldn’t have got away with that five months ago,” Mildred said, smirking at Vince’s ignorance.
“Bisexual,” Vince scoffed. “Now, that’s just being greedy.”
“I can’t help the way I am.”
“When I was younger I felt like a man trapped inside a woman’s body,” Vince spoke with a smile. “And then I was born.”
“Was that piss poor joke supposed to be funny?”
Vince shrugged and said, “Kind of.”
Mildred smiled but never said anything.
“I have a feeling that this is going to be a long walk back.”
“It will if you come up with crap like that,” Mildred laughed.
“Right.” Vince sighed and added, “Let me tell you a secret.”
“Okay.”
“I’m seeing someone at the hospital,” Vince blurted out. “Her name’s Joanne. She’s really attractive and probably too good for me, if I’m telling you the truth.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“If I tell you something personal about myself, then you have to reciprocate. That’s the deal.”
“Okay.” Mildred brought her right arm up and rested her bat on her shoulder. “So it’s my turn?”
Vince nodded.
“I was very naive sexually. My first boyfriend asked me to do missionary and I buggered off to Africa for six months.”
Vince flashed Mildred a look and he knew right away that she wasn’t playing ball. “Is that right?” He groaned and added, “I’ll tell you something else and then you can try again. When I was a youngster, my dad got drunk and attacked me with a broken bottle.” Vince then pointed at his face. “Resulting in this.”
“Okay. My dad was an alcoholic, but he told us as kids that he just liked to collect bottles.”
“As a kid I was made to walk the plank. We couldn’t afford a dog.” Vince smiled at Mildred and winked at the woman. “Two can play at that game.”
Mildred adopted a serious face and said, “Maybe I don’t want people to know me.”
“Okay. We’ll walk in silence then.”
The two walked in quiet for a few minutes and it was Vince that broke the silence.
“What’s the most horrific thing you’ve seen?” Vince asked.
Mildred released an impatient sigh and said, “What do you mean? During the apocalypse?”
“Yeah.”
“Rats,” Mildred said.
“What? Rats?”
Mildred laughed a little and her vague answer needed a proper explanation.
“I was in a town and saw a plague of rats eating one of the dead as it walked,” she began.
Vince was taken aback by her comment and had seen no such thing in the three to four months of this disaster.
Mildred continued, “These rats were the size of cats, and I don’t think it had been the first one they had eaten. I was hiding behind a building and saw this lone creature staggering away, with dozens of rats attached to him and swarming around his feet, desperate to get a nibble. I nearly felt sick.”
“I’m not surprised.” Vince twisted his face in disgust. “Can’t be good for you, eating flesh that’s been rotten for days or weeks.”
“They’re rats,” Mildred laughed. “They don’t care what goes in their mouth.”
“That kind of reminds me of my ex.”
“Anyway,” Mildred ignored Vince’s comment, “That wasn’t the worst of it.”
“What was?”
“I saw the rats, one by one, leaving the walking corpse. There was a huge herd of them, if that’s the right word, and they ran along the road and I saw why they were doing what they were doing.”
Mildred had paused and Vince asked impatiently, “Which was…?”
“There was a guy in the middle of the road. He was on his own and had his back to them, unaware that they were heading his way.”
“Didn’t you call out and warn him?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t want them to head for me. Maybe in hindsight I should have. He could have outrun them. Rats can only get to a maximum speed of eight miles per hour.”
“And how do you know that?” Vince snickered.
“I just do.” Mildred looked to the side, at Vince, and added, “Anyway, they reached the man and they took him down. As you could imagine, the screams were horrendous and there must have been about fifty of those fuckers gnawing the poor bastard to death.”
“Jesus.” Vince puffed out his cheeks at just the thought of that scenario happening. “That’s probably worse than actually being eaten by the Rotters.”
“I know,” Mildred sighed. “It wasn’t quick, and to top it off, the dead walker that had the rats on him went over to the body of the man and also tried to get in on the act.”
“Talk about rotten luck.”
“Was that supposed to be a joke, Vince?”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Karen rubbed her head and was thinking about having a lie down. She was going to go to Ward 22 first and tell the guard outside the clinic that she’d be back in an hour or so.
Karen informed the guard and came across Joanne Hammett as soon as she stepped out of the building.
“How’re things?” Joanne asked her.
“Not bad,” Karen groaned. “This clinic is boring the tits off me, if I’m being honest.”
“Probably better than what I’m doing.” Joanne pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from the same pocket and lit up without asking Karen if it was okay.
Joanne blew out smoke and Karen asked if she was okay.
Joanne bowed her head and said, “If I tell you how I’m feeling, you’re gonna think I’m an ungrateful bitch.”
“Try me.” Karen smiled and folded her arms across her chest.
Joanne looked ashamed at what she was about to say, and looked both ways before opening her mouth. “I can’t seem to settle. I don’t like it here.”
“I know what you mean,” Karen moaned. “The facilities are great here, but something isn’t right.”
“Some of the people clearly don’t want us here.” Joanne took a drag of her cigarette and the blue smoke escaped out of her mouth as she spoke further. “It’s obvious.”
Karen opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind. She was going to tell Joanne about the meeting she came across, but decided not to bother. She didn’t want Joanne to worry, which she would. Joanne Hammett was made of softer stuff compared to Karen.
Compared to most survivors, Joanne had been lucky and had lived a sheltered life. Her contact with the dead had been minimal, and the only danger she had experienced was from humans. In the beginning, she hid, like others, from the Murphys when they were rampaging through Little Haywood, and then the attack by Drake’s gang a couple of months later.
The only good thing the Murphys did was to clear the area of the dead, but they didn’t do that to help the residents, they did it because they enjoyed the killing.
Karen looked over Joanne’s shoulder and could see two guards in the distance, walking side by side. They broke away and one of them was heading Karen’s way.
“Anyway,” Karen said, changing the subject. “You and Vince?”
“You know?” Joanne blushed and ran her fingers through her blonde hair.
Karen nodded and flashed Joanne a cheeky smile.
Joanne smiled. “He makes me laugh.”
“It’s okay,” said Karen. “I don’t want the gory details.”
“Good, because you’re not getting any.”
Karen looked up and could see the guard staring at the two of them. He was a heavy man, in his late forties, and was an individual that Karen had only seen once before. The guard never looked away and both he and Karen glared at one another as he approached. Joanne turned and wondered what Karen was staring at.
The guard’s face changed a little and his poker face changed to a snarl.
“Yeah?” Karen snapped at the man, as he was about to pass the two women. “Want a picture?”
”What’s your problem?” he snapped back.
“Just wondering what you’re staring at?”
The man seemed annoyed, looked Karen up and down, and snarled, “Why don’t you wear a bra?”
“Is that all you’ve got?” Karen laughed. “I think you need a bra more than me, tubs.”
“Stupid bitch.”
“Original,” she sighed.
“Why don’t you smile more?” the guard laughed and had now passed the two women. “Fucking miserable bitch.”
“Why don’t you fuck off?”
“Not very ladylike,” the man giggled as he walked away.
“Neither is me giving you a handjob, but you wouldn’t turn it down, would you, tubs?”
The guard stopped walking and turned around.
“That wasn’t an offer, Rambo,” Karen snapped. “Now, keep walking. And don’t forget to erase us two from your wank bank when you go back to your quarters to tug one off.”
The rotund guard stood and stared at Karen, and it looked like the cat had got his tongue. He then flushed a rose colour, due to a mixture of embarrassment and anger, and then stormed off, cussing under his breath.
Joanne turned to Karen and laughed, “Well, that’s not gonna help relations, is it?”
“Fuck ‘em.” Karen held out her hand and nodded at the cigarette in Joanne’s hand. “Give me a drag.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Pickle, Richard, Stephanie and David sat huddled in the corner of the van.
There was very little space left in the van with all the supplies from Workout World, and Pickle and the rest remained quiet, unsure what was going to happen.
When the Range Rover turned up and two men jumped out carrying shotguns, Pickle knew fighting back would be suicide and had to yield. Now they were in the back of the van and being driven, no doubt, to the village of Gnosall.
Pickle turned and saw the outline of a petrified David MacDonald. He placed his hand on the teenager’s shoulder.
“We’ll be fine,” Pickle told him. “Don’t worry.”
“Will we?” David didn’t share Pickle’s confidence.
“They’re doing this to scare us,” said Pickle. “If anyone will get hurt, it’ll be me.”
“And me,” Stephanie spoke up and shuddered. “I put an arrow in that man’s hand, remember?�
��
“I’m the one they want,” Pickle tried to reassure them. “They’ve got a vehicle, a van full o’ stuff, and they’ve got me. They should be happy.”
“I’m scared, Pickle,” said David.
“Me too,” Richard spoke with a quiver in his voice.
“It’s okay,” Pickle tried to reassure them. “I’ll do all the talking.”
“What happens if they want to know where we stay, Pickle?” Stephanie asked. “If we—”
“Just...” Pickle was becoming annoyed and was letting the situation get to him. He had to remind himself that they were just kids. “Let’s see what they want, before we start panicking.”
Pickle was also nervous, but one thing he was positive about was that Stephanie and David would be okay whatever happened. Marsden and his crew were many things, but he was certain they weren’t child killers.
Stephanie was responsible for mutilating Freddie Newton’s hand and with Pickle unnecessarily damaging Manson’s hand afterwards, he was hoping that full attention, as far as revenge was concerned, would be focused on him and not on the other three youngsters.
“I wonder how Vince and Mildred are?” Richard asked.
“I would have loved to have seen their faces when they realised that the van was gone,” Pickle released a small chuckle.
“How do you do that?” asked David. He was shaking with fear and almost in tears.
“What are yer talkin’ about?”
David shuddered when he responded. “I’m really scared, Pickle. And you’re cracking jokes.”
“Nothing will happen to yer. I’ll make sure o’ it.”
“You promise?”
Branston paused and could see the terror on young David’s face. “Aye, I promise.”
Chapter Forty
“Another mile and we’ll be there,” was the announcement from Vincent Kindl.
Mildred could see the town up ahead, as the pair of them passed a soft play area building for infants. She was deliberating on telling Vince something that had been bugging her.
Snatchers Box Set | Vol. 5 | Books 13-15 Page 38