Snatchers: Volume Two (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 4-6) (18 page)

Chapter Thirty Six

Tommy's sticky eyes finally opened, and even though he still felt drunk, he was certain that he wasn't imagining the sound of a vehicle's engine. It was more audible because he had the window open. He looked at his watch. Nearly six.

He sat up and got off of the bed and looked out of the bedroom window, the engine was growing louder. He then saw a red pick-up truck go by the house. He could see a male passenger look at him, and he quickly ducked. He didn't know why he did this.

Shrugging off the pick-up truck incident, Tommy went downstairs and looked out into the garden from the kitchen window. The toilet was stinking, so he decided that, in future, he was going to use one corner of the garden to urinate and defecate. He thought that maybe he should start patrolling the garden. It'd be good for exercise as well as hearing out for unwanted noises, he thought. Maybe eventually create a vegetable patch when it decided to rain.

Tommy sat down and for some reason his mind went back to interviews being shown on SKY News when the outbreak was in its infancy. One particular, hysterical, woman told a male reporter that she went to the police station in Salford. There were hundreds of people there trying to get in, and people were getting beaten, stabbed, and trampled on.

Tommy remembered what a minister called the dead: The Devil's Army.

A smile emerged on Tommy's face as his brain went into overdrive. One thing that an individual had in these times was time to reflect.

He reminisced about his childhood and the house he grew up in. It was an old cliché, but back in those days you really
could
leave your door open and trust people.

He remembered the days of growing up, fondly. He especially loved Friday evenings. At six, he would go up to the youth centre with the rest of the kids and learn about first aid. Once that was over, it was telly-time and half an hour of
Monkey Magic
before Ernie came round. Ernie drove a huge van around the estate and sold everything from sweets to cigarettes. Every Friday night Tommy would get himself a toffee apple. Then the weekends would be spent up the youth centre to play football on the grass.

He remembered one particular day when an old man called Frank came out and offered an old trophy to the winning football team. That day Tommy's team lost and he went home in tears. Other days would be spent playing kerby and tormenting the older kids, which would usually result in a slap.

Tommy Burns loved his childhood, and this disaster made Tommy look back and really appreciate those days. Even the schooldays were a joy for Tommy. He loved his school friends, his teacher, Mrs Payne, and feared the Headmaster, Mr Jackson, who could make a child shit themselves from fifty yards if he was angry enough.

Coming back to reality, Tommy looked around and decided to go for a small stroll in the woods. His confidence was high, he was armed to the teeth, and wanted to relieve himself from boredom as well as get to know the surroundings, especially if he planned on staying for a while.

He went through the gate and took a meander, his eyes on full alert, and relieved that his drunken shooting incident hadn't caused any problems. He walked past Megan's shallow grave and took a breath in. The air smelt funny. He had no idea what it was and where it was coming from. It smelt like hash. Was it coming from the plants? Was it garlic?

His walk continued, and a smile broke out on his face when he came across a bush of wild strawberries. He began picking some and tossing them into his mouth. After getting his fill, he wandered further on for another minute until he came across a figure that could be seen up ahead.

His legs suddenly stopped moving, his breathing became quick and shallow, and his heart galloped to a speedier pace.

His eyes thinned to get an improved look on what was approaching, or in this case, staggering. Convinced it was one of them, he pulled out his knife. There didn't seem to be any point using the gun and making a noise if it was just the one, and waited for the thing to get nearer before he made his move.

The creature was now only yards away, and Tommy gripped his blade tighter, ready for the bloody battle, but the thing suddenly lifted its head and held its hand up in a friendly gesture.

Tommy breathed out a huge sigh of relief and lowered the knife. It wasn't a creature. It was a person. It was a man.

But who was it?

Chapter Thirty Seven

Her palms were sweaty; her hands were shaky, and she could feel her temporal pulse banging from inside her head. Karen Bradley was sitting down; she pulled her knees up into her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

What time was it now? Six? Seven?

How long have they been away for? An hour? More? Three hours?

Having no kind of contact made it more harrowing. It was amazing, even after three weeks, how much she had missed the use of the text message or even a simple phone call. One simple call from Pickle would have put her mind at ease and stopped the stress that was doing her and her unborn child no favours.

She had also grown close to Shaz over the last few days. It was good to have another female around, one that she actually got on with, and losing Shaz would also break her heart.

She began to hear a low moaning sound, like a vehicle from a distance, and stood up straight on the peak of the hill, trying to get a better look. Her eyes glared for a while, and a smile broke out on her face when she saw a red pick-up truck turn onto the football field. Even though she couldn't see for sure, she knew it was them.

She had been at the cabin for a while now and this was the first time she had seen a vehicle on the field. The vehicle disappeared behind the hedge, and Karen had assumed that it had stopped and they were getting out. Karen was bemused when the red pick-up truck arrived. She thought they would have been at least two, considering they had people to transport as well the supplies from the cabin.

She stared at the gap in the hedge, waiting for them to appear, and Shaz was the first to emerge, forcing Karen to breath out a sigh of relief. Shaz was followed by Jack, then Vince.

But no Pickle!

"Where the fuck are you, Harry?" Karen took deep breaths in, trying to be positive and confident. There must have been a simple explanation why he wasn't there. Was he still in the truck, guarding the thing from looters and Karen couldn't see him because of the massive hedge? Or, was he still at the camp?

Vince said he was short of guards at the roadblock, so maybe Pickle opted to stay behind. Or is he hurt?

Karen tried to study the faces of the three of them as they got nearer, but all heads were lowered. This wasn't a good sign, she was convinced of it. Their faces couldn't be read, but their body language was negative.

Now sitting, she folded her arms and was impatiently waiting for the three of them to hurry the fuck up. They were getting nearer and Shaz was the first to raise her head.

Karen knew.

Looking at the morose look on Shaz's face, she knew they had bad news for her. Tears already welled in her eyes, and freely ran down her cheeks. Shaz produced a thin smile; she reached the top of the hill and immediately gave her friend a hug, both of them now releasing tears.

Karen had her eyes closed, but could feel the hands of both men placing theirs on her shoulder in a way to comfort her. Once her and Shaz had broken away from their embrace, they both wiped away the tears with their sleeves, and Karen asked, "How?"

Nobody answered straight away; Vince and Jack looked at one another.

"He died a hero." Vince was the first to speak.

"Don't give me that patronising-hero crap," Karen snapped, her fists clenched.

"He's right." Shaz sat down and put her hands on Karen's shoulders, they were both face-to-face. "Pickle held those rotting fuckers back while we fled. Me and Jack were under the bridge, waiting for Vince and Pickle to hurry up, but only Vince turned up."

"I'm sorry, Karen." Jack took his hand off her shoulder and stepped backwards to give her some space. Vince did the same.

"He's really...gone?" Karen looked up at Shaz's face, and found the news unbelievable and hard to take in.

"To his credit, he never made much noise when they..." Vince's unfinished comment was one of those that he wished he had thought about first before opening his mouth.

"He's definitely, definitely...gone?" Karen was now staring into nothingness. Her eyes were wide and her face had turned as pale as ivory.

Jack tried to explain, "Pickle saved me. When I turned around, I saw two of the ghouls take a hold of him. He grabbed one of them by the hair and forced it into a head lock, taking its head off. Vince then pushed us away."

"Pickle's strong as an ox. He might be hiding somewhere." Karen perked up and it looked like she was getting ready to go down there and search for him herself.

"He's definitely gone." Vince lowered his head. "Let's get the things from the cabin. We've left the truck unattended."

Karen shook her head adamantly. "I'm not going until—"

"Karen!" Vince yelled. "He's dead!"

"But he could have fought his way out. And you just left him there."

Shaz said, "When me and Jack went under the bridge, we just assumed that Pickle and Vince were a couple of seconds behind us. When we saw that Pickle was missing, Vince pushed us back." Shaz looked embarrassed to be snitching on Vince, but it was true what she said.

Defensively, Vince added, "Pickle said himself that we should run. And besides, there was dozens of them gaining on us. And whether Pickle fought his way out or not, it doesn't matter. I saw him get bit. As soon as he was bit, that's when he told me to run."

"You
saw
him get bit?" Karen was unsure whether Vince was telling the truth or not.

"Yes," he nodded. "I actually saw the teeth sink into his left forearm. And we all know that there's no way back when that happens."

"So if he did manage to fight his way out, he's now one of...them." Karen sat down and sobbed, "I think I'd rather him turn into a ghoul than experience the pain of being ripped to shreds."

"I know you're angry with me," said Vince. "But you had to be there. We were being attacked from both sides; we're lucky that anyone got out at all."

Karen shook her head and rubbed her hands across her head. "After what we've been through with Stile Cop, the sports centre, and what happened at the estate, I just can't believe he's gone." Karen turned to the side and cleared her nostrils; she tried to compose herself but the urge to sob was too strong. "I should go in and tell Wolf. He and Pickle have become close over the last few days."

"I'll start bagging the food and whatever else we need." Vince walked past Karen and headed for the greenery where the cabin hid somewhere.

Karen was left with Jack and Shaz.

Shaz had sat next to her and put her arm around her friend. She brought Karen closer to her and their heads touched while they both cried for a man that they both, especially Karen, loved like a father or an older brother.

Jack felt a little left out and told the girls that he was going to go to the cabin and give Vince a hand with moving the stuff. Neither of the females responded, so Jack walked away.

Shaz stood up, now that Karen was managing to compose herself, and told her to stay where she was. "I'll give the boys a hand. You just stay there."

Karen never fought or agreed with Shaz's order; she remained sitting and stayed there for ten minutes, trying to come to terms with her loss.

Shaz, Jack and Vince went past her with bags of food while she was sitting, and by the time they returned from the truck and reached the top of the hill, without Jack, they went back to the cabin.

"We only have a few things left," said Vince to Karen Bradley who had other things on her mind. He rolled his eyes in thought and began to reel some of the items off. "The stove, canister, the medication..." He paused in mid-sentence, realising that he was waffling and she wasn't listening. He laughed and waved his arm away. "Forget it."

Vince and Shaz went to the cabin and left Karen all alone. She felt depressed. This had been the worst she had felt since her fiancé's death.

"Oh Pickle," she cried. "What am I going to do without you?"

In such a short space of time of knowing him, there were going to be many things that she'd miss about him. She would miss his cheeky wink that he used to do to sometimes settle her nerves, as well as his disappointed-father look that he'd give her whenever Karen used unnecessary swearing. She'd miss his slurry speech that sometimes made him sound like a drunk, but most of all, she was going to miss his warm smile.

She would like to think that he was now with KP, but she still couldn't bring herself to believe in life after death. It still seemed ridiculous to her, even now.

Shaz and Vince finally came out of the area with more bags of stuff.

"That's it." Vince walked on with a bag and the canister in his left hand. Shaz followed behind him, stopped, and turned to Karen. "I think we may have a problem."

Karen knew straight away what Shaz was talking about. She had seen this coming. Wolf was refusing to go.

Karen got up and stormed towards the cabin. The gate was already open.

Wolf was standing up in the garden. He looked distraught, and she guessed correctly that he had just been told the news.

"Don't try and talk me out of it." He adjusted his straw hat and sat down on a stump, moaning about his knees.

"I knew you'd do this." Karen glared at him, waiting for a response. "What're you gonna do? Stay here and eventually shoot yourself?"

"It's nothing to do with what's happened to Pickle, or that I'm scared. I'm just tired. Tired of all of this. Tired of smelling like a tramp. Tired of crying for my Grace, the world. And I'm tired of worrying for the future."

"But the whole reason why they made two journeys was so they could come and get you."

"No it wasn't." Wolf guffawed falsely. "Vince only came back to strip the cabin. And they didn't come back for me. They came back for you."

"There's no way Pickle would have left you here. And I'm not gonna leave you here either. You're coming and that's it, even if I have to roll your smelly, wrinkly arse down that fucking hill. Now move, you selfish bastard." She grabbed a surprised-looking Wolf and began pushing him through the already-opened gate. "Go, before I rip you a new one."