Snatchers (Book 9): The Dead Don't Scream (7 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Bentley and Rick had climbed over the small brick wall, ran by the tennis courts and could hear the screams getting louder. They passed by the bowling green and the hut, near Kyle Dickson's grave, and could see, with the help of the fire that was raging fifty yards to their right, that people were engulfed in panic. Some were fleeing and ran past Bentley and a shell-shocked Rick, whilst others were running around, unsure what to do.

Even with the field partially lit up by the raging fire, it was difficult to see who the dead were and who were the living. They saw a female being brought down by six of the dead. They circled around the poor soul.

Deciding not to use his gun, Bentley pulled out a knife and ran over to the six ghouls, expecting Rick to be behind him, and stabbed at the back of their heads whilst the female was screaming and being torn apart. The sound of human screams and distressed animals were killing Bentley's ears, but he continued to take out the dead and looked over his shoulder to find that Rick had disappeared. It was too much for him, Bentley thought.

He stabbed at the last one, pulling its blood-matted hair back and ramming the knife into the brain, then took a quick scan around for any other danger. There were still a few dead around, and some of them had stumbled in the pens and had opted to turn on the livestock, but a lot of people had fled and the odd animal had decided to join them.

With his gun in his left hand, he looked at the poor woman on the floor. She was still alive, but barely. Her arms had been bitten into and her stomach was torn open, some intestines were hanging out of the gaping, bloody hole. She was crying and shivering and knew her time was up. She nodded, urging Bentley to get on with it. She didn't want to turn, and she didn't want to be taken apart by any more of the dead that could pass by. She nodded again, this time with impatience, trying to hurry Bentley up.

He dropped to his knees, covered her eyes with his left hand and said, "Sorry," before stabbing the woman through the heart. He waited a few seconds before removing his hand and the knife, then stood to his feet. With more screams all around him, it appeared that he was needed elsewhere.

He ran past the Lea Hall building and onto Sandy Lane, where some of the dead were. It seemed that most people had the common sense to stay in their homes, however, he heard shrieks to his right and saw two of the dead on their knees, munching on a person that had now stopped screaming. Bentley dragged the two things off of the dead resident, just to make sure they were definitely infected, and stabbed them both in the middle of the head. He bent over and saw Jasmine Kelly on her back. She was dead and the neck had been mutilated. He couldn't let her turn. He shook his head, bent down and stuck his knife in her ear and cringed. He winced once more as he pulled it out, the squelching noise turning his stomach, and wiped the blade on her clothes. He stood up and took a look around.

Maybe he should have hid in his house and let the whole episode blow over, but he felt responsible and his conscience wouldn't let him do this. Would Pickle be hiding in the house? Sheryl? Even a pregnant Karen? He didn't think so.

*

Vince stepped outside, into the chaos. He looked down to his left, down Sandy Lane, and saw the backs of Pickle and Karen—he thought—jogging towards the Lea Hall building, where some of the dead were walking out. Other Sandy Lane residents were helping them out, but he couldn't make out who they were. He then looked straight ahead and saw the burning tanker; the vehicle had lit up most of the area. His head turned right, and his heart sank when he saw scores of the dead stumbling down towards the road.

He could see that the barrier/lorry had been removed and was further up the road, crashed into a wall, and didn't have time to find out what had happened. He saw people running around and immediately started to shout at them to get inside their homes. He then saw Sheryl emerge from Hill Street and onto Sandy Lane.

He grabbed her and yelled, "We need to get these people back indoors before the dead get here!" He could see about half a dozen people running about, but what Vince feared was the horde spreading out and going to Hill Street, Cross Road and Burnthill Lane.

A single ghoul, a stray, came towards them and Sheryl stabbed it through the eye. She looked calm and controlled, and Vince felt some kind of relief that she was by his side. They both looked at the flaming tanker and both suspected foul play. Losing the fuel was a blow, and they both knew that the flaming tanker was also going to attract more danger.

"Help me get everyone indoors, Sheryl!" roared Vince. "That includes Karen and Pickle and everyone else."

Sheryl said, "We can handle this."

"Really? And what about them?" He grabbed Sheryl and pointed up to the advancing horde that had come from the Pear Tree Estate and were making their way down Sandy Lane, towards them.

"Oh fuck." Sheryl's mouth dropped.

"And that doesn't include the ones that are gonna be attracted from other places, thanks to that." He pointed over at the burning tanker.

"This is a fucking nightmare." She shook her head. "Right. Let's get everyone indoors. This is just like the first week all over again."

"Behind you," Vince called out.

Sheryl quickly turned around and rammed her knife in the centre of a beast's forehead. Still holding onto the handle, she put her hand behind its back and allowed it to drop slowly and took out her knife simultaneously. The horde were getting closer and Karen and Pickle could now be seen with Vince's eyes. They were making their way back up the lane, and Vince called them over and pointed out the horde that had come from the estate that the pair of them had already seen.

"We've been telling people to go inside," said Karen.

"We can't leave this place," announced Pickle. "We can't leave these people behind."

"It never crossed my mind." Vince put his arm around Sheryl and pointed over to Karen and Pickle's place. "But we need to do what everyone else is doing. We need to get inside and hope the Rotters eventually pass through."

Pickle announced, "Well, we've just come back from the field and we saw that the HGV by the Globe Island has gone."

"What?" Sheryl looked flabbergasted.

"The guards, or one o' them, must have panicked and fucked off with it."

Sheryl sighed, "So we have no barriers on either side of Sandy Lane, and a burning tanker that's attracting these things like flies to shit. It leaves us totally exposed."

"Exactly the reason why we need to get inside!" Karen yelled, annoyed that they were hanging around for longer than necessary.

Vince could see that the road on his left was now clearing, apart from ten or so of the dead in the distance, but the horde were advancing from the right. And there was going to be more. They all knew that there was going to be more.

From a distance, Vince could see his bedroom window opening and Rosemary popping her head out to see what was happening. Vince furiously waved and pointed at her, telling her to get her head back inside. She looked out to see the horde and quickly shut the window.

"In our house." Pickle urged Karen, Sheryl and Vince to follow him. "Now."

Noticing Vince's hesitation, Pickle grabbed him and said, "Rosemary and the girls will be fine, as long as they don't do anything daft." He pointed at the advancing horde. "We don't have time for this hero shit, Kindl. Move yer fuckin' arse."

*

His eyes opened. He licked his lips. And then he tried to get up, but his face was aching. He tried to open his mouth, but he couldn't. His jaw was broken. He shook his head to wake himself up and realised where he was.

The tanker was burning to his far right, but what was that noise behind him?

Groaning?

He tried to stand up, but his legs throbbed with pain. He put his hands where the wounds were, then suddenly realised he had been stabbed.

"Bastards!" Bear snapped. "Fucking bastards!"

He lay on his front and began to drag himself across the road. He didn't bother looking behind him; he knew that a horde was advancing as he had heard that sound many times before. It appeared that Theodore Davidson had become the architect of his own downfall, and despite trying to drag himself across the road, away from the advancing hungry horde, he knew he was fucked. He knew he had seconds, possibly minutes, left before taking his last breath. And he knew it was going to be a painful demise. He just hoped it'd be quicker than other deaths that he'd seen in the past.

His kukri was still there, but using it would only prolong the inevitable.

His T-shirt was rising up as he continued to drag himself across the road, his thighs were in agony from the stab wounds given to him, and his stomach was also feeling the pain, as he dragged his torso along the tarmac, grazing his skin.

He wasn't sure why he was doing this. A natural reaction to flee, despite the odds being stacked up against him?

He wasn't sure, but he knew he was a dead man, and that was confirmed when he could feel the presence of them right by him. The first beast bent down and sank its teeth into the back of his neck, tearing away his scalene muscles, forcing a scream from the big man.

Almost as if the beast was content with just the mouthful of meat it was chewing, it stood up straight and allowed its companions to push their way through to get a taste. And there were many of them that wanted to sample what was on offer.

Theodore Davidson put his arms over his head and screwed up his face, waiting for the indescribable pain to multiply. The seconds almost felt like minutes, but he finally felt a dozen bites sinking into his legs and back. He shrieked as he could feel the rotten fingers making their way through the gaps in his arms, that were over his head, and digging into his cheeks. As soon as both cheeks were ripped away and blood spilled out, he released his arms and put them by his side.

What was the point?

His breathing was quick and shallow, and his beating heart continued to gallop, but not for long. The strength of the dead crowd turned him over and the moment he had seen before on others, and the moment he dreaded the most, was about to happen.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, waiting for the dozens of hands to tear him open and devour his insides whilst he was still conscious.

He didn't have to wait long.

Chapter Fourteen

"I think most people are back indoors now, thank Christ," Vince said, peering out of the bedroom window that looked onto Sandy Lane. Four of them, Vince, Pickle, Karen and Sheryl, were inside and on the first floor of 23 Sandy Lane. "I hope Rosemary has remembered to block the door."

"I'm sure she has," Karen reassured him. "She's done this kind of thing before. Remember?"

Vince nodded slowly. How could he forget? He knew Karen was referring to the massacre at his camp.

"We should be okay," Sheryl spoke up. "As long as the rest don't panic, these dead fucks may just pass through."

"We found the man responsible for all this mess." Karen tucked her hair behind her ears and added, "He was trying to escape with the HGV, but we blew the tyres out."

Asked Sheryl, "Who is it?"

"Was?" Pickle corrected her. "We left him injured by the railway bridge. I think he would have been eaten by now, by the horde that was heading into the camp from the Pear Tree."

"Okay," Sheryl sighed. "Who
was
it?"

Pickle nodded over to Vince and said, "It was yer pal. The one that Stephanie shot with her arrow. He also killed Daniel and Kirk."

Sheryl was confused and shook her head. "How do you know it was him? You weren't there when he attacked Vince at the Spode Cottage."

"It was definitely him," Pickle said with a thin smile. "After the building was robbed and Nicholas was killed, the farmer couple said that one o' the guys was called Bear. I went to prison with a guy called Bear, and it was the same Bear that I knocked out at the barrier a few minutes ago. Coincidence? I don't think so. He was also wearing Shaz's bracelet, which proves he was at the Spode Cottage because that's where Shaz's grave is, and the bracelet used to be on the cross, at her grave. Which means that it must be the same guy that nearly killed Vince. Can't yer see why he's done this?"

"He's done it out of revenge," Vince spoke up and dropped his head, smothered with guilt. "It's my fault. He knew I was from here because he said he'd been watching the place and recognised my face. He wanted a shit load of supplies off of me, but..."

"He's an evil bastard," Pickle said and put his arm around Vince.

"It's all my fault. I was hoping that he had died."

Pickle shook his head. "It's not your fault. "

"It is."

"When yer arrived back with Stephanie, yer told us about what had happened, and I told yer that it could be a guy that I went to prison with. The security in this place was as good and as tight as it could ever be since Kyle's death, but it obviously wasn't enough to keep this evil bastard from wreaking havoc. Sandy Lane is too big to cover."

"I can't help thinking..."

"If I hear yer blame yerself for this again I'm gonna twist yer balls. Got it?"

Vince nodded.

"Right. Let's sit this thing out."

All four standing individuals sat down on the floor, and were all relieved that there were no more screams from outside. It appeared that most people had gone back inside or were hiding elsewhere. With the numbers of the dead due to increase, the four of them going out there would be suicide. Staying indoors, for everybody, was the safest option, just like it was in the first days.

A sitting Pickle put his back against the wall, under the window. Karen sat next to him and Vince did the same, sitting next to Karen. Vince looked worried. He was worried for Rosemary and Lisa ... even Stephanie.

Sheryl stood to her feet and pulled the curtain apart by a few inches. She stood wide-eyed. Nothing seemed to bother Sheryl, but all three sitting individuals heard her gasp, and knew that it was bad news.

Intrigued, but somewhat nervous, Karen quickly got up and stood next to Sheryl to see what had made her gasp. "Jesus. Fuck," were the words that came out of Karen's mouth, which also made Pickle and Vince get back to their feet. "Those cocksuckers are everywhere."

Looking out, they could all see that the lit-up camp had attracted hordes from both ends of Sandy Lane, thanks to the burning tanker, and God knows how many around the wiry fence, desperate to get in.

"That didn't take long," said Sheryl.

"How many?" asked Vince.

Pickle gulped. "Hundreds o' the fuckers."

Sheryl opened the window and stuck her head out, ignoring the protests from the other three. She looked to her left and right, then closed the window.

"That was a stupid thing to do," Pickle said to her. "If they saw yer, they'd come for us. I've seen these things, when there's enough o' them, smash their way through a house."

"That's already happening," announced Sheryl. She then left the room, disappeared for a few seconds, then returned. "There's a few of the dead scattered in the back gardens behind us as well."

"What?" Vince looked horrified. "I need to see the girls and Rosemary."

"Yer go out there and yer a dead man," warned Pickle.

"And what do you suggest I do?"

"Yer stay here." Pickle looked at all three in the dusky area, and gestured them all to sit back down. "We all stay here until the morning. No arguments."

*

Lisa looked on through her bedroom window and was petrified, whilst Stephanie looked lost.

Some of those things were trying to get into a couple of houses to her right, and the gathering horde had forced some windows through. She saw a few of the dead faces in the crowd staring up at her.

Could they see her? Sense her?

She continued to look on with dismay. She began to cry and jumped when Rosemary came into the room and told her to get away from the window.

Lisa stood and shook with nerves, ignoring Rosemary's command. Why were they trying to get in? Did they have some kind of sixth sense? A heightened smell? Did they hear a noise, or see a light of some kind coming from the place? Lisa finally did as she was told and allowed the curtain to fall back to its original closed position, the movement of the curtain being spotted by the dead that were staring up at her.

Rosemary told Lisa and Stephanie to go into her bedroom, that looked out onto the back gardens of the houses, and sit tight. They did as they were told, and Stephanie held onto her bag, her crowbar and remaining arrows were inside of it.

Stephanie sat silently in the corner whilst Rosemary cuddled a terrified Lisa in the other corner. Then they heard it. The sound of glass shattering below them. They were getting in.

"Oh God," cried Rosemary. "Where's Vince?"

"He was outside," Stephanie spoke up, pitying the shivering Lisa. "He'd have no chance getting back here, even if he wanted to. There're too many of those things out there. Hundreds. If he's got any sense, he's hiding."

All three sat in silence. Stephanie gazed into nothingness, her bag by her side, ready for anything. Rosemary had tears in her eyes as she continued to cuddle a distraught Lisa.

A thud from downstairs was heard by all three females, and the dark-haired Lisa looked at Rosemary in the darkened bedroom and then tried to look over at Stephanie. She could see her outline, but not her face. Lisa asked, "What was that?"

"It's probably just a few banging into the door." Rosemary tried to keep Lisa as calm as she could. "You've seen how clumsy they can be."

"There's more than a few," Stephanie spoke up, but her honest assessment was not welcome, especially as Rosemary was trying to keep Lisa from being hysterical.

"Rosemary?" Lisa cried.

"Yes. What is it, Lisa?" Rosemary stroked the nine-year old's head and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm scared."

"We're all scared, but they'll go away ... soon."

Lisa looked up at Rosemary and asked, "But what if they don't?"

Rosemary opened her mouth to give the young girl a positive answer, but she couldn't think of one.

More glass shattering was now heard downstairs, making Lisa scream out, and Stephanie quickly got to her feet and headed towards the bedroom door. Rosemary asked Stephanie where the hell she was going, but she was ignored and the fourteen-year-old went to the front bedroom, opened the window and looked out. She gulped, turned on her heels and went back to the girls.

"Where've you been?" Rosemary sounded annoyed and anxious.

Stephanie picked up her bow and bag. She then announced, "There's more coming in. We have to leave ... now!"

"We're not going anywhere." Rosemary was adamant and remained sitting on the floor with Lisa.

"Fine," Stephanie huffed. "But I'm not hanging around for a minute longer."

"And go where?"

"The high school. If we climb over the metal railings and get inside, we'll be safe. At least for the night."

Rosemary stared at Stephanie, for what seemed like an age, then gazed at the petrified face of Lisa. She huffed out in defeat and nodded. "How are we gonna do this?"

Stephanie smiled thinly. "Let's get on the roof. That's a start."