Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield (15 page)

Chapter Thirty One

The task of trying to find Bentley had been unsuccessful, but thankfully it had been a non-dangerous trip so far. Lee James and Sheryl Smith had timed that they had been out for two hours, and were now on their way back to the bridge to meet back up with Vince Kindl and Harry Branston.

The pair of them had eaten a few biscuits, washed down with some water, and were now ready to go back to the camp and get something more substantial to eat. The last half an hour of walking had been completed in silence, and now they were heading back to the bridge. Lee didn't want the silence to continue for another two hours.

The journey was going to feel long as it was.

Lee tried to start the ball rolling. "So what do you miss the most about the old world?"

Sheryl shrugged and shook her head. She was either unsure how to answer the question, or she didn't want to.

"Well?" Lee was waiting for an answer, impatiently.

"You know," Sheryl began, "we walked two hours and never came across one single Waster."

"Cannock Chase is a big area." Lee glared at Sheryl, knowing that she was avoiding the question, and tried again. "You never answered my question."

"Question?"

"What do you miss about the old world?"

"Too many to choose." Sheryl scratched at her black hair. It was itchy and it was needing a wash.

"Name a few. We have two hours to kill."

"Shit." Sheryl blew out her lips and began, "I don't know." She scanned around and could see that the open part of the woods posed no threat. The trees were so spaced apart that a Waster could be seen from hundreds of yards away. Both Lee and Sheryl were relaxed.

Sheryl added, "I suppose I miss a lot of things. My phone."

"Obviously," Lee chipped in.

"Books. I miss reading good books."

"Rugeley has a library in the town centre," said Lee.

"So?"

"We could get some, if you want."

"And you'd be willing to go on a short run for a load of classic books?"

"Probably not." Lee laughed. "One day, maybe. When things have cleared up a bit."

"I also miss my car." Sheryl produced a faint smile. "I also miss sex, fucking."

Lee was taken aback by her last comment, and said with a squeak in his voice, "It's only been five...six weeks or so since it kicked off."

"That's long enough. And besides, it's been nearly two months since I've had a shag."

"Did you have someone long-term?"

"Nah. I just used to meet men off the internet and meet up every weekend. I was doing that for the last six months or so."

Lee was surprised by Sheryl's blunt talk, and thought to himself that this was the most he had got out of her, as far as getting to know about her life was concerned. She had always kept her cards close to her chest. He still didn't know much about her, but he now knew that she used to have a car and liked casual sex, which was more about Sheryl that he knew a day ago.

Lee began to tease, "Does nobody on the camp take your fancy?"

"Fuck, no," Sheryl scoffed. "The men are either too old or too...widowed."

Lee was aware that Sheryl was a straight talker, and wasn't offended by her comment. She knew about Denise, but it never stopped her from making her statement. Nobody seemed to ask Lee about his family, with the exception of his old friend, Vince. They all thought he had coped remarkably for a man that had lost his partner and his kids, but in truth he cried before he went to sleep every night.

But the pain was getting easier. It was going to be a long and slow process.

"So not one guy takes your fancy?" Lee continued to persist.

Sheryl shook her head. "Nobody could replace..." She paused and cleared her throat, angry that her defences had dropped for a few seconds.

"Replace? Did you have someone special?" Lee was becoming annoying with his intrusive questions.

"Why are you so interested? Do
you
want me?" Sheryl flashed him a dirty look. "Is that what this is all about?"

"What? My family perished only weeks ago, and—"

"Weeks ago," she pointed at his crutch, "but I bet that still works. I'm up for it, if you are."

Lee stopped walking and glared at Sheryl, wild thoughts now beginning to escape. "That's an insane thing to say. Only yesterday you were nearly raped by those two men."

"Nearly, but I wasn't." She nodded. "And five days ago, when we were out on a run in Lichfield, I was nearly bit by a Waster. And the week before that I was nearly hit by that car when that lunatic tried to run me down when we were on that run in Alrewas."

"So what's your point?"

"My point is..." Sheryl walked over to Lee and grabbed his crutch and began rubbing him. There seemed to be movement. "Life is short, even more so now, and we could all be dead tomorrow."

She took off her bag, unzipped him and took out his penis and began stroking it. Lee dropped his bag, threw his head back and began moaning as she tugged away. She ushered him to sit on the floor and he did, with his back now against a tree.

She pulled his trousers down to his knees and took her own off. She was wearing no underwear and sat on top of him, forcing Lee to groan even louder. She gyrated while he was inside of her and speeded up her rhythm. Neither one of them exchanged kisses.

Lee's moaning was becoming too loud for Sheryl's liking, so she put her hand over his mouth while she continued to move her hips, putting Lee under her spell. Lee's eyes were still closed and he grabbed on her shirt, giving her the impression that he was getting close.

"I'm nearly there," he gasped.

"Fuck. Already? How long?"

"Seconds."

Sheryl quickly got off of him and began to put her trousers up.

Lee was wide-eyed with surprise and look baffled. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"I was just getting warmed up and you were about to explode inside of me."

"And?"

Sheryl shook her head as if Lee had just asked a stupid question. "And, I'm not walking the rest of the way all soaked and sticky."

"I'm sorry. It's been a while."

"Let's just move." Sheryl threw her bag over her shoulder, clearly disappointed.

Lee looked at his erect penis. "At least finish me off."

"Finish yourself off," Sheryl laughed. "Fucking men. Useless cunts, the lot of you."

*

Vince began, "I went to see a faith healer a few years back at the Irish Centre in Digbeth. There must have been an audience of about two thousand there."

"Really?" Pickle wasn't sure if this was one of Vince's silly tales.

"I swear, Pickle, he was
tha
t bad a woman in a wheelchair got up and walked out."

"Seriously, Vince." Pickle was getting tired, and was in no mood for Vince's lame jokes. "I really do wish yer would shut up."

"Just passing the time." Vince began humming a Led Zeppelin tune and suddenly stopped once he noticed Pickle's evil glare.

"Yer allowed to walk in silence, Vince. It
is
allowed."

"I'm just bored." Vince added, "I wonder how Sheryl and Lee are getting on?"

"Probably better than us, the rate yer walking."

"I wonder if he's..." Vince raised his eyebrows at Pickle.

"You've got a mind like a sewer, Kindl."

"She's probably noshing him off right now."

Vince's ears twitched. He stopped walking and scanned around the wooded area. It was more condensed and claustrophobic on this path, but they could still see a fair distance away through the gaps of the trunks.

Pickle finally stopped and turned to face his friend. "What're yer stoppin' for?"

"I thought I heard something." He pointed over. "Over there."

Both men gazed into the woodland. Not a sign of life could be seen.

"Maybe it was a deer or something." Pickle stroked his chin.

"Yeah, maybe." Vince was unsure.

"Let's keep moving," urged Pickle.

They continued with their walk, with both of them picking up the pace, and then it was Pickle's turn to stop. "I saw something," he announced with a whisper, stopping Vince from progressing any further.

"Saw what?" asked Vince.

"There's something up ahead. I saw something move behind the tree."

"A Rotter?"

"No." Pickle shook his head. "I don't think it's a Snatcher. I don't think hide-and-seek is their strong point."

Vince walked off the dirt path, through some bracken, and crouched down behind a tree. Pickle followed him and crouched down behind him.

They both stared in silence and waited patiently. They then saw a figure, in the far distance. The figure was dressed in a black poncho with a hood, coming from behind a tree, and was now making their way through the woods, moving further away from them.

"I wonder who that could be," Pickle murmured to himself.

"Just a survivor," responded Vince. He then patted his friend on the back. "Come on. You know what'll happen if we don't get to that bridge in time."

Chapter Thirty Two

Karen Bradley was confused and disorientated. She opened her eyes and couldn't explain why she was on the floor, curled up in a ball. She sat up and brushed her brown hair behind her ears. Something was in her hair.

What was it? Sand.

She looked up to the bruised-looking sky and guessed that it was the beginning of a new day. She guessed that it could be around 4 or 5am, and scanned around where she was. She felt a chilly wind assault her frame and shuddered when she realised where she was.

She was back at Stile Cop. But how?

It was a dream, of course. She was dreaming.

Karen got to her feet and looked around the sandy area. It was desolate. There were no bodies and there were no vehicles. It was just her and the wind.

She slowly walked to the edge of the hill and looked down. It was a nice view, but there wasn't that much to look at. For miles she could see fields and farmlands, and a couple of villages. She closed her eyes and allowed the wind to caress her face.

Shrugging off the bizarre situation she was in, she opened her eyes and decided to go back home, back to Draycott Park. She looked down to see that she was dressed in her Snoopy pyjamas, but had nothing on her feet. She walked towards the entrance/exit of the beauty spot and despite not having anything on her feet, she couldn't feel her soles smarting at all.

She couldn't feel anything.

She exited the area and was now on the main road. Behind her was the crossroad, but she needed to go the opposite way to get back to Rugeley, back to Draycott Park. She descended down the long hill and still couldn't feel anything on her feet. It was as if she was walking on air. A couple of minutes had passed and she looked to her left to see fields. To her right was another, more secluded, beauty spot and she was nearing Stile Cop Cemetery.

She walked by the cemetery and felt the cold wind slap her frame, making her vertebrae shudder. It seemed strange that she could feel the wind, but not the ground beneath her feet.

She had a hundred yards to go before she reached the junction and the Hednesford Road, but her hopes of getting home had been dashed once over a dozen Snatchers appeared around the junction, went onto the Stile Cop Road, and were now heading for Karen. She stopped walking and stared at what was advancing towards her.

"Fuckers."

She looked up to the heavens to see that there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and looked back at the advancing horde.

She decided to make a run for it.

She tried to move her legs, but they weren't budging. It was as if they were made of concrete. She couldn't even twist her neck; her head wouldn't move at all.

"What is going on?"

The group of Snatchers took more steps towards Karen, making her panic and fear the worst. She tried to move her legs again, but to no avail. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable, but the creatures had suddenly stopped once they were five yards away.

Karen opened her eyes, shook with fear and shock as she looked at all the faces of the dead. Every single one of them were people she recognised. They were obviously infected, but their faces weren't so disfigured that she didn't know who they used to be before they were infected.

They were all people, some good and some bad, that Karen had come into contact with over the last five weeks or so.

Yes, it was a dream, but the scene was a strange one to behold. The group of the dead were almost encircled around Karen, and she looked to her left at the first ones and her eyes continued to scan until she reached the few in the middle.

To her left was Gary. How many times had she dreamt about Gary? She had lost count.

Next to him was a dead Shaz, snarling at snapping and wanting to devour somebody that used to be her friend. Her eyes weren't blue anymore, they were almost white, and the bite to her shoulder that she had received in the real world was present in this dream of Karen's.

As her eyes slowly moved along she could see others. Harry, the little boy from her street was there. Next to him was Jack Slade. He seemed in good condition for a member of the dead. Apart from the eyes and pale skin he looked in better shape than most. Standing next to Jack was a reanimated Kerry Evans and his son, Thomas Slade.

In reality some of these people hadn't turned, but it appeared that anyone who had been infected, killed, or had just disappeared from her life was in this dream. Oliver Bellshaw was standing next to young Thomas, and next to him was KP and the prison officers, Jamie Thomson and Janine Perry. In reality Karen knew that these two couldn't be Snatchers as she, Pickle and KP had witnessed their demise at Stile Cop. There would have been nothing left of them
to
reanimate.

Gavin and his sister were next to the officers, arms out, snapping, and itching for a bite. Jade Greatrix and Paul Parker were also there. Karen knew Jade was dead. Weeks ago, Jack had told Karen that Jade had turned when he, Vince and Claire came across her one day, when they saw an overturned vehicle. Paul Parker still remained a mystery. He was assumed dead, and the last time she had seen him was when Jade and Paul split from Karen and Pickle during a melee with four men.

The Pointers were next. David, Davina and little Isobel were there as members of the dead. In truth, Davina Pointer was the only member of the family that she was sure that was dead. The last time she saw David and Isobel was when they left Stile Cop in their car, after burying his wife.

There were other faces there that she recognised. Jason Bonser was there, as well as David Watkins and young Harry Beresford. Robin Barton was to the right, near the end, reanimated, and had a thick dark line down his face where he had received his injuries from the petrol chainsaw, which he had received when the dead stormed Vince's camp.

Next to Robin Barton was Pickle.

*

She woke up with a gasp. She looked around her dark room. She had no idea what time it was, but it appeared that Pickle and the rest hadn't returned. She began to control her rapid breathing and her mind began to wander.

Why was Pickle in the dream as a Snatcher? Pickle wasn't dead.

Most of the people that was in her dream had either turned or was killed in the real world. So why was Pickle a part of the crowd?

She shook her head. It was just a stupid dream.

Was it a premonition? No.

She shook her head and giggled to herself, heart still racing. She wiped her clammy forehead with the back of her hand and tried to control her heavy breathing.

It was just a dream. It was just a stupid dream. It didn't mean anything.

Did it?