Snatchers (Book 9): The Dead Don't Scream (12 page)

Chapter Twenty Four

August 5th

Elza Crowe and Ophelia White had opened their eyes around seven in the morning. The morning consisted of the usual for these two survivors: A quick drink of water to wet the dry throat, followed by some stretching, a dismal brush of the teeth and a snack.

On this morning they had rummaged through their bags and Ophelia pulled out a tin of spaghetti hoops. Elza opted for the ravioli. It wasn't the kind of breakfast she would have in the old world, in fact, she hated ravioli at the best of times. She was starving, and they had to eat whatever they could. These tins were a luxury, compared to what they had to munch on with their brief stay in the woods, and Elza wondered what they'd be eating in the future.

She had no idea how long they'd both be staying in the church.

The dead were always a threat, and the occasional visit by survivors was bound to happen over the next few weeks or months. It was only August, and Elza was already thinking about December. Once the air became colder and time ticked on, supplies were going to get thinner and thinner.

She then remembered the camp on Sandy Lane being in disarray.

She didn't want innocent people dying, but she and Ophelia needed to stock up. She assumed that with the amount of carnage they had witnessed, people must have fled and died. If it was safe enough, they could take a walk to the camp—what was left of it—and see what food and drink had been left. It sounded harsh, but she needed to stock up before other strangers turned up and began to take whatever they could.

Elza slapped Ophelia on the shoulder and announced, "We need to go shopping."

Ophelia nodded, she new exactly what Elza meant, and emptied her bag in the back room. Elza did the same.

Both girls threw their empty bags over their shoulders, holding their bats in their left hand, removed the contraption that was securing the doors and headed outside. Elza hated doing this, leaving the church unattended, but needs must.

They were heading to Sandy Lane.

As they went down Hardie Avenue to their right, the girls then made a left into Sankey Crescent, heading for the camp. They bypassed a jack-knifed lorry and stepped around the blood and guts of what used to be a human being.

There were a few of the dead meandering in the street a few yards away, a vehicle—the tanker—spewed thick smoke into the air, and most of the ground floor windows of the houses to their left had been taken out. Although Elza and Ophelia had slept fine last night, eventually, this must have been the longest night of these residents' lives. Apart from the dead, about six in all, the street was nowhere near as horrific as it was seven or eight hours ago.

"Where did they all go?" Elza muttered, referring to the dead that she saw the previous night.

They must have dispersed back down the Globe Island way, or some could have filtered into the side streets. Maybe they went past the Pear Tree exit—Queensway—and went further on to that place me and Ophelia had passed when we first got here ... Draycott Park.

The two women looked at one another and nodded in unison. They stormed over to the six ghouls, with the empty bags over their shoulders, and whacked and smashed their way past them. Once they were all put down, the girls looked around and speculated where the people could have stored their food whilst living in the area. Maybe they had food in the houses and lived hand to mouth, relying on runs to keep them going for the next few days.

Elza then turned to her right, clocked the Lea Hall building and smiled to herself.
Or maybe they stored the food in a building and had a controlled way of issuing out food on a daily basis
.

Elza pointed over to the place and Ophelia nodded in agreement as if she knew what Elza meant.

They walked around another body, or what was left of it, ignored the buzzing of flies that were on the corpse, and strolled towards the building. They could see that to the left of the building was a hut and a bowling green. Straight ahead was a field, and although it was a fair distance away, they could see carnage all over the grass. There was people and guts scattered about the field, and they could even see a half-devoured pig.

"Come on." Elza patted her friend on her arm and pointed at Lea Hall. "Let's see if there's anything inside for us."

*

Pickle, Vince, Karen and Sheryl made the short journey from Power Station Road with no danger and any sign of the dead at all. They went by the Globe Island and had returned to Sandy Lane in the pickup. They were not surprised at what they could see.

The truck was parked up at the Lea Hall building and all four got out, Sheryl and Vince immediately removing two strays that were advancing towards the vehicle.

"Well," Pickle began and looked at Vince. "I think this is worse than what happened at yer camp."

Vince nodded and wondered what happened to all the people. There was a hundred and thirty or so on site; surely not all of them had perished. Some must have fled; others might still be hiding.

Some are dead, Pickle thought. He could see some carnage up on Sandy Lane, and the field to his left had casualties scattered on it. He also guessed that the bodies of Kirk and Daniel, that were killed by Bear, had been devoured by the horde from the night before.

"It'd take forever to clean this mess up," Sheryl sighed.

"This could be just the tip of the iceberg," said Karen. "We haven't been in Hill Street, Cross Road or Burnthill Lane yet. Plus, there might be more of those cocksuckers lurking about."

"A lot of the houses are still liveable." Sheryl ran her fingers over her black hair, lost in thought. "We could still live here."

"Let's no' get ahead o' ourselves. We're not here to make plans for the future." Pickle tried to remind the rest the reason why they had returned. "Let's see who's still 'ere, who's still left."

"If we choose a couple of houses and live in there, it could work," said Karen, paying no heed to Pickle's previous remark. "We'll be a little exposed, but that's two camps we've been in now and both have been attacked by the dead."

"Aye," Pickle nodded. "But this was foul play."

"We could make it work." Karen nodded and looked at the silent Vincent Kindl for a reaction, but there was nothing. She nudged him. "You okay?"

He spoke softly, out of character for him, "Just wondering where everybody is. And I'm obviously hoping that Rosemary and Lisa are okay. And Stephanie."

"I hope Paul is," said Karen.

Vince nodded. "I know. Maybe we'll come across them when we do our search."

"Bentley, Gillian, Jasmine, Charles, Rick ... I hope they're all okay," said Karen.

"Right." Pickle clapped his hands together. "First we'll head into Cross Road, quickly check the houses, and take it from there. Don't call out, just in case..."

Chapter Twenty Five

"Are we ready to go?" asked Bentley.

Stephanie stretched and stood to her feet, and stretched some more, arms above her head. She then looked over to Paul Dickson. He was sitting up, staring at the floor.

"Of course we're ready," Stephanie spoke up. "We're hungry, and my throat is like sandpaper."

"Well," Bentley sighed and rubbed his hand over his dark, greasy hair, "while you were asleep, I had a quick look outside, at the entrance."

"And?" Stephanie prepared herself for some bad news.

"I can't speak for the rest of the camp, but those creatures are out there, by the railings. Which means we can't get out onto Burnthill Lane. So our only option is to go straight on, across the field to an area I'm not familiar with, or go left and head to Horns pond."

"Looks like it's Horns pond." Stephanie shook her head at the situation they were in. "These things could clear off by the next day, but our bodies cannot cope a day without water. Well ...
mine
can't."

"As soon as we're hydrated, we can check to see how bad the Sandy Lane area is at a later date, but..." Bentley took in an intake of breath and added, "I'm guessing that the people are either dead or have escaped elsewhere. There could be some trapped in the houses, but if there's too many of those cunts, there's fuck all we can do."

"Time to go then." Stephanie headed for the classroom door and was the first to exit. Bentley followed her, and Paul Dickson shuffled behind, in a world of his own. They went through the long corridor, down the stairs to the ground floor and went through the window that had been put through.

As soon as the air hit all three of them, they lifted their heads and looked up to the heavens. It was a murky day, black bulging clouds hovered above them, but the water hadn't been released yet. However, it would brighten up soon to become another scorcher.

No words were spoken. Paul Dickson and Stephanie Perkins walked to the side of the school grounds and climbed over the railings. There was a huge field in front of them. It had overgrown grass and they guessed that it was used for grazing, but where were the animals? The overgrown grass suggested that they had been missing for a while.

A dirt path ran alongside the field and went down to where Hagley brook was.

Bentley pointed. "I think that's the way to the pond. If we get to the pond, then we'll be near the pub. There could be food and drinks in there."

"I've got a feeling there'll be people in there," Stephanie grunted, putting a dampener on Bentley's desperate, and only, plan that he had.

"We need to try."

The three individuals dragged their feet along the dirt path and were approaching the brook, then once Stephanie stopped walking, Bentley and Paul did the same.

"I have to do this," Stephanie moaned. "My feet are on fire."

"Fine." Bentley watched her as she began to take the footwear off, followed by her socks, and hesitantly dipped her toe in the water.

She put both feet in, sat down on the grassy bank and dumped her bag and bow by the side of her. Like she imagined, it was ice cold and she moaned in delight. "Just a few minutes," she said, looking over her shoulder and looked over at the two standing men. "You should try it."

"No thanks." Bentley gazed over the shallow brook and lost himself in the woodland that was opposite. "I wonder what's behind them." He nodded over to the trees.

Paul remained silent; he had never said a word since they had woken up, so Stephanie said, "Who knows?" She looked to her left, where the dirt path ran alongside the brook, and asked Bentley, "How far to get to this pond or pub you were talking about?"

"Another mile, I think."

A rustle could be heard coming from over the brook, to their left, and all three immediately knew what was coming their way. Stephanie quickly got her shoes and socks on, and threw her bag over her shoulder. Two of the dead stumbled out of the woodland and dragged their feet through the shallow stream to get to the other side. They were two males, and were badly decomposed. The worst the three survivors had seen.

Bentley turned to Stephanie and held his palm up to her. "It's okay. We've got 'em." Bentley nudged Paul and took a step back, waiting for the ghouls to cross the stream and allowed them to get to the other side of the grassy bank.

Bentley hacked his cleaver into the front of the creature's head, and pushed it away. He turned to his left to see how Paul was doing and yelled out as the remaining beast grabbed a hold of Paul by the neck, but he didn't even flinch, he just stood there.

Before the creature had a chance to tear out Paul's throat, Bentley ran over and punched the creature in the face. It fell over, and never got to its feet again as Bentley booted it repeatedly in the side of the head until it stopped moving. He then turned to a shocked Stephanie, then turned to Paul. Angered, he was about to run over to Paul Dickson and ask him what the hell he was playing at.

"Bentley!" Stephanie called out, gesturing for him to come over and converse with her. Taking in deep breaths, still furious with Paul Dickson, he strolled over to Stephanie and tilted his chin, asking her what she wanted.

"Don't give him a hard time," she whispered out of earshot. She looked over to Paul. He was five yards away, still staring into nothingness. Unemotional.

"He just fucking stood there," Bentley snapped. "He's no use to us if—"

"Think about what he's lost."

"I know, I know. It was me who had to put his wife and daughter to sleep, but—"

"Look ... Bentley." She nodded over in Paul's direction.

"What is it?"

They both stared at Paul Dickson. He was standing, staring at the floor, and Bentley felt for the man once his anger subsided. Paul rubbed his stubbly face and scratched at the side of his head. He seemed confused, unsure where he was and what to do. Maybe he was just grieving. Maybe he was going mad.

"I think he might be having some kind of breakdown." Stephanie put her bow and bag over her shoulder, suggesting that she was ready to move now that her bathing had been interrupted. "Go easy on him."

Bentley nodded, accepting his light reprimand from a fourteen-year-old girl.

Stephanie tightened her ponytail and said to Bentley and Paul, "So, are we ready to go?"

Bentley said yes, and even Paul nodded.

At last! A response from the forty-one-year-old.

All three went along the dirt path. They had the field to their left, the brook to their right, and could see further up that the path bent to the right and went up a hill that was surrounded by trees.

Bentley pointed up ahead and said, "That'll take you to the pond. The pub is just a few hundred yards past it." Bentley shook his head and moaned, "I'm so dry."

"Me too." Stephanie agreed, "but if this place even has bottles of fizzy drinks left behind the bar, it'll keep us right."

They went upwards, still on the path, heading into the woodland, but they weren't in it for long. They reached an open part of the area and was greeted by the pond. There were four small wooden piers spaced out around the water; it was a spot that used to be used by anglers.

"It's lovely," Stephanie remarked.

Bentley led the way, passing the pond that was to their left and reached a road and a car park. Bentley told Stephanie that the road led to the main road in Slitting Mill, a place that sat inbetween Rugeley and Cannock Chase, and informed her further that the pub was a couple of minutes away on foot.

They could now see a white building. It looked like a huge house that had been converted to a pub/restaurant, the frames of the bay windows were painted black and in black letters, inbetween the two top windows, were the words: The Horns Inn. There were no cars around the pub, and this suggested that the owners must have fled. It seemed a strange thing to do. A pub was as good a place as any for protection, and with it being a restaurant as well, the canteen must have been packed with food and drink that could or should last someone a few months at least.

Maybe they were forced out.

They walked around the place and tried to look inside, but all of the windows had the curtains drawn. The main road was empty and a few bodies were scattered in the distance. It was hard to make out whether they were humans when they perished, or they were the dead and were killed by humans. The bodies didn't look to be mutilated, so Bentley guessed that they were the dead and were put down by a blow to the head by someone. They reached the main door of the place, but it was locked.

Maybe they locked it before they left. Maybe they planned on coming back once the government regained control of the country.

Bentley tried to rattle it again, but it wasn't budging. They went round the back once more.

Bentley pulled out his cleaver and gestured to Stephanie and Paul to hold back whilst he tried the back door of the establishment. He approached the door and started to knock it. He then put his ear to it to hear out for any shuffling or groaning that would tell him that there were dead inside, but he could hear nothing. All he could hear was the gentle wind whistling in his other ear.

He looked at Stephanie, hunched his shoulders and gave the door handle a tug. It didn't shift, but it wasn't as solid as the main door at the front, so he was confident that it would give way if he ran at the thing.

Drummle took a step back and before he ran at it, Stephanie called out from behind, "Are you sure about this?"

He turned and smiled. "It'll be okay. I can't hear anything, but there could be a couple of strays lurking about. Better get your bow ready."

Stephanie nodded, and took it off her shoulder. She dropped her bag to the floor and took out an arrow. She pointed the bow towards the ground and placed the shaft of the arrow on the arrow rest. She then attached the back of the arrow to the bow string with the nock. The young girl then used three fingers to lightly hold the arrow on the string, her index finger was held above it and the middle and ring fingers below. She then held the bow arm outwards towards the target, her inner elbow parallel to the ground and the bow staying vertical. She then drew the string hand towards the face to what was sometimes called the anchor point.

She aimed at the door and nodded at Bentley, telling him that she was ready. Paul was to her right, standing in a daze. He was no use to anyone.

Bentley ran at the door and took it off its hinges with one attempt. The door wasn't as strong as he'd suspected, and went flying and landed on top of the floor of the pub's hallway. Bentley stood up, laughed to himself and began to brush himself down. He took a quick scan around and headed for the bar. As soon as he turned left in the hallway, he looked up and could see a sea of dead faces staring at him in the bar area. The ghouls were of mixed ages, mainly men, and it took a while for Bentley's brain to process that there were at least thirty of the dead just a few steps away from him.

As if they had rehearsed this, the dead then all moved at once and went for Bentley with more speed than he thought was possible.

"Fuck!" he screamed, and turned on his heels and ran away.

He turned right and went down the corridor that led to outside and could feel rotten hands grabbing at his shirt. Once he was pulled back, slowing his momentum, he tried to turn around and hack at the ones grabbing him, but once he did this he stumbled backwards and tripped over the door, that was taken off its hinges earlier, and fell on his back. He screamed out as some of them began to fall on top of him, and Stephanie and Paul stared in horror as the rest of the dead headed outside and came towards them whilst Bentley was being ripped to pieces.

They couldn't see Bentley for the amount of bodies on top of him and the ones on their feet coming for them, but they knew he was done for.

Stephanie released the arrow and saw it hit one through the centre of its cranium, putting it down immediately, but there were too many of them. She stood and gasped and couldn't believe how quickly they were approaching them.

She picked her bag up, grabbed Paul, as the beasts quickly spilled out onto the car park and began to surround the pair of them, and urged him to follow her. They began to run, but Stephanie was held back by one of them. The thing had a hold of the hood on her black poncho. She screamed out, managed to slap the rotten hand away and tried to run to her right, heading for the other side of the pond.

Paul stopped running once he heard Stephanie's shriek. He turned and stared at the mob as they stumbled towards him, and could see that Stephanie was at the side trying to fight off two of them with her crowbar. She then fell to the ground, as the two ghouls brought her down, and dropped her metal weapon. Paul closed his eyes as more screams were released by the frightened fourteen-year-old, filling his ears.

His eyes were watery and wondered why the hell he was trying to stay alive.

What was he staying alive for?

Why do it? To endure another day full of fear and malnutrition?

"Just die now, and be done with it," he said to himself.

He opened his eyes and could see the dead were just a breath away, despite only being able to see blurred shapes approaching because of his tears.