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

by Whittington, Shaun

  “Sunday ... I think. I’ll have to double check the calendar.”

  “So we have a week.”

  Vince read the letter and said, “It’s listed here the vehicles we have and that we’re not blessed with fuel. How the fuck does he know?”

  “Somebody must have blabbed,” Drake moaned. “No good demanding vehicles if the tanks are nearly empty. Maybe Pickle said something to them to save his own skin.”

  “Pickle wouldn’t do that,” Karen snarled.

  “Well, he’s the only cunt that’s alive.”

  “My money’s on David. Anyway, how the fuck are we gonna do this? Are we just going to dump the vehicles at Milford and walk home?”

  “No other choice,” said Vince, fighting back the tears with Stephanie’s head only yards from his boots. “It says it in the letter. Drop the vehicles off at Milford Green, leaving the keys in the ignition, and they’ll deliver Pickle. I don’t think they’ll be giving us a lift back.”

  Karen asked, “Why Milford Green?”

  “It’s a spacey area. Nowhere to ambush them,” Drake spoke up.

  “If David, or whoever, did grass, they also probably told them the numbers we have. I’m guessing we have a lot more people than they’re comfortable with.”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Drake held his hands up and added, “You’re talking like the decision has already been made.”

  “You can’t just leave him there,” Karen cried.

  “We have the Audi, three pickups, and they also have the prison van as well,” Findlay intervened. “If some people here find out we’ve just given up all of that for one guy who has been here for just over a week, there’s gonna be hell to pay. I can guarantee it.”

  “I don’t know.” Drake paced up and down and rubbed his chin. “Finners does have a point. I mean, I like Pickle, but—”

  “Drake!” Karen yelled. “You can’t leave him there.”

  “Back in the old world,” Drake began. “Politicians would never give in to kidnapper’s ransoms, would they?”

  “What are you saying?” Vince jumped in. “Are you not doing this?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just...”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s going to take a few days to get the extra fuel.”

  “We have days,” Karen said. “We can get it, but what worries me is your reluctance to give the vehicles up.”

  “For one man!”

  “It’s Pickle,” she cried.

  “Okay, okay. Let me think.” Drake paused and snapped his fingers and turned to Vince and Karen. “What if we go and get him ourselves?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We can get to Gnosall ourselves,” Drake began to explain. “Take a few mopeds up there, dump them, walk the rest, and break him out of there.”

  “And if we get caught, we all die.” Karen moaned. “No, stick to what has been instructed.”

  “This is not happening.” Findlay shook his head and seemed annoyed. “I’m sorry for Stephanie and David, but giving up the wheels that are vital for supply runs will be detrimental for the rest of us here.”

  “He’s right.” Drake nodded. “The people here won’t buy it, and there’s a few here that still don’t like you Colwyn lot.”

  “Why don’t we put it to a vote?” Vince asked.

  “That’s what I was going to suggest.”

  “I already know what the outcome is gonna be,” Findlay said. “A vote would be a waste of time.”

  “Okay,” Vince groaned. “We’ll tell people what’s happened and all the adults can take a vote. If the answer is no, I’ll go and get him myself.”

  “I’ll come too,” Karen said.

  “And me.” Drake nodded.

  “They want the arrangement done at midday on Sunday,” Vince said, “so we have time.”

  “Have time for what?” Karen asked him.

  “We can’t just go there, turn up, and hope for the best,” said Vince. “We need to plan it. I say we go there Saturday morning on mopeds, dump the bikes a mile from the place. We need straight heads, and at the moment all I wanna do is kill the fuckers who did that to David and Stephanie.”

  “And Richard,” said Karen.

  “Of course.” Vince nodded, wiping his eyes. “If we go tomorrow, we’d have no clue what the set up would be like and we’d also be plagued with revenge and remorse. We need to go there focused. We’ll be prepared by the time Saturday comes along, and they certainly won’t be expecting us. Shelley Tavernier should provide us with information about the set-up they have. She mentioned people being beaten and raped. They probably did this out of the way from the public. Pickle is probably staying in the same place where they beat these people. They should treat him well if they think they’re getting something in return. Are we all agreed?”

  Drake and Karen nodded. There was no response from Findlay and the other two guards. All three were unhappy. Findlay was positive that the people would vote against giving up the vehicles in exchange for Pickle, but he didn’t want Drake to go with him. He liked Karen, but didn’t give a shit about Vince.

  “What do we do now?” Karen asked.

  “Let’s put these ... heads somewhere safe,” Drake moaned. “I’ll put them in the shed. It’s okay, I’ll keep them away from the hens.”

  Vince wiped his wet eyes and said, “I need a drink.”

  “Go to the staff room,” Drake said. “In the cupboard under the sink.”

  “I suppose I better tell Tracy the bad news.” Karen wiped her eyes and cleared her throat.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  He slumped in the chair, grabbing onto the bottle of whisky, and Vince Kindl unscrewed the lid. It had been a while since he drank whisky, and poured a small measure into a plastic cup.

  He picked the cup up and had a sniff of the Irish triple distilled drink, and knocked it back. It gave him a nice warm feeling inside, but it wasn’t enough.

  He poured another. This time the cup was two inches filled, and Kindl gulped the liquid down as if it was a cup of water. He stared at the bottle, contemplating whether to have another. He didn’t want to get drunk during the day.

  His thoughts went to David and Stephanie, and hoped that they were killed before their beheadings. If that wasn’t the case... He shuddered at the thought of it and imagined the screams and the panic that Stephanie and David experienced before their demise. He never really gave Richard a thought and didn’t know who the other guy was.

  “Bastards!” Vince slammed the table and repeated, “Bastards!”

  He dropped his head and put his right hand over his eyes and began to sob. For minutes, Vince cried like a baby, and only composed himself when he heard footsteps approaching. He quickly wiped his eyes, clearing his throat at the same time, and then poured another drink.

  “Last one,” he said to himself.

  A knock on the door made Vince jump. The door wasn’t locked, but Vince stood up and staggered over to it, like one of the dead.

  Vince opened the door and could see Joanne standing, in tears. It was obvious that she had been told the news.

  The two embraced and both sat down at the table. Joanne could see that Vince had been crying, which wasn’t a surprise, as he loved Stephanie. Any fool could see that.

  They sat opposite one another and had their arms stretched across it, holding hands.

  “Karen told me,” Joanne confessed. “Just.”

  Vince waggled his head and said, “I can’t believe it.”

  “They were just kids,” Joanne cried. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “We’ve come across some vile people in the past, but these lot have to be the worst.”

  “What are we gonna do about Pickle?”

  Vince shrugged and picked up the plastic cup, taking a sip. “You heard about the demands?”

  Joanne nodded.

  “They’re gonna put it to a vote. If the people here vote no, which they will, we’re
gonna have to plan a way of getting him out of there. We have nearly a week to do it.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “We can’t just leave him there. What do you think he would do?”

  Joanne lowered her head and nodded. He was right. Pickle would put his life on the line for most folk.

  Vince stood up and said, “I’m gonna get some air.”

  “Okay.” Joanne also stood up and grabbed Vince by his arm as he tried to walk by. “I’m so sorry about Stephanie.”

  He could feel his eyes filling once more and his throat swelling. “Yeah. Me too.”

  The pair of them left the room and exited the building. Vince and Joanne stopped moving once they clocked Karen, thirty yards away near the greenhouses, with her arm around a distraught Tracy.

  Vince and Joanne hugged, and then Joanne went over to Karen and Tracy. The first persons Vince bumped into were Rowley and Quint.

  Quint was walking next to Rowley who was on crutches, and they had appeared from behind the building.

  Vince was happy enough to try and walk off the way he was feeling, but Rowley called him over. Vince groaned, turned on his heels, and reluctantly made his way over to Rowley and Quint.

  “You his chaperone today?” Vince mumbled, nodding at Quint.

  “Something like that,” Quint laughed. “But I’m not fucking wiping his arse. Bollocks to that.”

  “Don’t be so foul,” Rowley said, not seeing the funny side. “I can do that myself.”

  “Anyway,” Vince sighed. “I take it you haven’t heard the news.”

  “What news, chap?” Stephen grunted and cleared his throat.

  “Pickle was caught by a gang. They took the van and he’s being held captive.”

  “How do you know all this?” Quint queried.

  “One of his guys dropped off a letter,” Vince started to explain. He gulped and took in a deep breath before muttering the next sentence. “As well as a sack of severed heads.”

  Quint and Rowley looked at one another, and it was Rowley that asked Vince what the hell he was talking about.

  “The new guy, Richard, Stephanie and David are dead.” Vince didn’t see the point beating around the bush, so he told them. “As well as a person we didn’t recognise. Their heads were dropped off in a sack, along with the letter. If we don’t comply, and give up the vehicles we have, they’ll kill Pickle.”

  “They won’t give up the vehicles for one man,” Quint said.

  “I know.” Vince nodded. “Drake is gathering people round and having a vote, but I can’t see it going any other way.”

  “And can you blame them?” said Quint.

  “Chap?” Stephen seemed annoyed by Quint’s comment. “It’s Pickle.”

  “I don’t even know this guy.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Stephen said.

  “No, he’s right.” Vince nodded in agreement to Quint’s comment. “Giving up the Audi and the three pickups, potential lifesavers, for one man is not gonna happen. Going out on runs on foot will not wash with these people, and we’re hardly blessed with horses or any other means of transport, apart from a few shitty mopeds that are running low on fuel anyway.”

  “Guys!” Findlay yelled. “We’re all meeting by the large shed. We’re gonna have this vote.”

  All three nodded and began making their way over.

  “After the vote,” Vince began. “Meet me in Ward 22. The new clinic.”

  “Why?” Quint and Rowley said at the same time.

  “Just do it. I’m gonna get everyone else from Colwyn to go there as well.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The vote had been cast and it was unanimous. Only eleven people raised their hands when asked if the vehicles were worth sacrificing for one man. Every member of Colwyn voted in favour for it to go ahead, and so did Mildred and Quint, and a few others like Shelley Tavernier and Patricia Johnson.

  The crowd of people slowly dispersed, most relieved that the vehicles weren’t going to be given up, and Vince headed to the back of the building.

  “Vince!” Drake called after him, but Vince wasn’t slowing down for anybody. “Wait up!” Drake called out.

  Vince stopped walking and turned around. His machete was in his belt, his hand resting on it, and his face was filled with fury.

  “I’m sorry,” Drake said. “But we knew that was going to happen.”

  “Give me the keys to one of your mopeds,” Vince said.

  “What? No.”

  “I need to get out of this place.”

  Drake stood for a moment and could see the man was in pain and raging. He groaned, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I won’t go far.”

  “Fine.” Drake huffed. “Don’t go too far.” He put his hand in his pocket and tossed him a key. “Take mine. One at the end. Need a helmet?”

  Vince shook his head.

  Karen emerged from the building and could see Vince getting on the bike.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “I need to get out of here, otherwise I’m gonna punch fuck out of somebody.” He started the engine and yelled, “Won’t be long!”

  “What about the meeting?” Karen called out.

  “Later.”

  Drake turned to Karen and said, “What meeting?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  *

  Vince rode along Gaol Road and could feel his eyes filling due to the mixture of the shock of losing Stephanie and the wind almost blinding his eyes. His mind went elsewhere as he travelled at sixty, down the long main road, and thought about the demise of the young girl that won his heart. She had been like a daughter to him and his mind went back to the time when the two of them were beyond the wall at Colwyn Place. He couldn’t think why they were there. His mind went blank, but he remembered when they climbed back over, and that she told him that she loved him before going in one of the houses for the night to sleep.

  He slowed down and turned a corner, heading down the high street, swerving by cars and limbs that were scattered along the road.

  The bike going by disturbed the crows pecking on the cadavers. He slowed down and turned right at a junction, and stopped the bike where he could see up ahead six of the dead.

  “Right, you fuckers.”

  Vince got off the bike and headed towards the half dozen Snatchers with tears in his eyes. His blood was simmering and released an angry cry as he began to hack at the six dead.

  Three had been put down straightaway and number four received a slice through its head, but Kindl was struggling to remove the blade. He lifted his leg and pushed it away with his foot, as the two remaining ones grabbed him and tried to take him down.

  One set of rotten teeth were inches away from Vince’s skin, but he managed to shrug the two off and common sense prevailed and he ran back to the bike with the machete in his right hand. He put the engine on and saw the two stragglers heading his way. He moved away and found it easy to avoid them by going on the other side of the road.

  He took a quick look behind him and could see the distance between him and the two Snatchers increasing considerably.

  He turned into a country road and pushed the bike as far as it could go, regarding speed. He slowed down and eventually brought it to a stop and cursed himself.

  “Not a good idea, Vincent,” he said to himself. “Drinking, riding a bike, and then putting down Rotters. Got a death wish or something?”

  Vince was raging and instead of punching a wall, or wrecking a room, he chose to get fresh air and escape temporarily from the hospital. He parked up the bike at the side of the road and looked around. The place he was at was a little like the Little Haywood area.

  There were fields to either side of him, and according to the signage the next town from Stafford was two miles away.

  He sat on the grass bank and a smile stretched over his face. Right now would have been a good time to have a joint. Sometimes when he and Lee
James used to go out for a few beers, they would walk home smoking a joint.

  He looked both ways, lowered his head, and closed his eyes. He had been like this for a couple of minutes and dragged his nails across his grey hair, occasionally smacking the palms off his forehead. He started to feel emotional again, but he could feel a presence and this immediately brought him out of his self-pity.

  Vince looked up and could see a male, extremely thin, and had a dark beard. The guy looked like he was in his thirties and was reminiscent of the junkies that used to hang around Rugeley town centre, begging for money.

  “Alright?” the man asked.

  “Not really,” Vince responded.

  “You look good for a man that’s been involved with the apocalypse for three months.”

  “I have a place.” Vince decided to be honest with the man he didn’t know.

  “Good for you,” the man said with slight disdain in his voice. “I’m not looking for somewhere to stay. I already have one.”

  Vince felt for the man. He looked malnourished and probably would benefit being at Stafford. Whether Drake would let him in was another thing.

  “Have you been in the wars?” the gaunt man asked.

  Vince looked down at his machete that he had now put in his belt and could see there were stains on the blade. He nodded.

  “You stay by yourself?” Vince asked him.

  “Kind of.”

  Confused, Vince queried further, “Kind of?”

  “My place is in that wooded area.” The man pointed thirty yards down the road, on the left side. “I found it a few weeks back.”

  “You found it?”

  “It’s a cabin,” he said. “I don’t have much to eat, but I managed to find a bottle of vodka the other day that I found. Why don’t you come back and we can have a drink?”

  “No.” Vince shook his head. “I better be going back, and I think I’ve had enough to drink for one day. Then again … I don’t think I should be drinking any more, but it has been a while since I tasted vodka.”

  “Great, that’s settled then.”

  “Okay, but I ain’t staying for long. I need to be back to sort some things out.”