Snatchers: Volume Two (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 4-6) (22 page)

Chapter Forty Four

Unable to sleep the two men gawped outside once more, and Tommy snapped, "Why don't they just fuck off?"

"They know something's in here." Pickle spoke up and rubbed his stubbly face. "Unlike us humans, they don't really know when to give up. The only thing that could pull them away would be some kind o' distraction, like a passing car, another person, or even a kill from yards away."

"I've just taken another look out the back. It hasn't grown much in numbers. I think we should take our chances now before they're in their hundreds the next morning."

"If we go out there now, it'd be like running with a blindfold on."

"It would probably be hard-going," Tommy admitted.

"It'd be so dark in the woods we wouldn't know where any o' those things were. We'd be constantly bumping into trees; there're animal traps out there, and we'd be too scared to move from paranoia. It'd be pointless, trust me."

"If you're sure."

Pickle nodded confidently. "I got yer into this mess; I'm gonna get yer out o' it. As soon as we get to tha' camp, yer will look back in relief that it turned out for the best. But I'll tell yer something: I'd rather be out there in the daylight being followed by hundreds o' the things, than out in the dark with just a dozen. The morning is our only option. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

*

"They'll be okay, don't worry about it." Vince was doing his best to keep up Jack's spirits.

Said Jack, "I still think we should be going out there, looking for them."

"They'll be well-hidden by now. Probably got their heads down for the night. We're not gonna be driving out there in the dark, putting our lives in danger and wasting fuel. So you're gonna have to have faith." Vince stood to his feet, indicating that he was about to leave Jack's caravan, and wandered over to the door.

"You going already?" asked Jack, rubbing his head. He had only received mild concussion from the crash, but all his thoughts went to Wolf.

When they got back to the camp, Vince had told Jack that there wasn't a chance in hell that Karen and Shaz could have got Wolf out of there with the amount of dead that were around, and he saw Karen herself shake her head at Vince before leaving when the subject of his father came up. He knew his dad was dead. And he felt nothing.

"Don't you want me to go?" Vince began to snicker and added, "Once upon a time you never used to like me."

"You're growing on me." Jack smiled and peered over to him. "Besides, you're the man to see for booze. I hear you got some alcohol stocked up in the Spode Cottage on these runs you do."

"We were keeping them for medical purposes."

"Bullshit," Jack laughed.

Vince held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay. What's your poison?"

"Anything that'll make me sleep. Jack Daniels, if you've got it."

"You're a pisshead, Slade," Vince laughed and sat back down next to a man he admired.

All that Jack had gone through had impressed Vince, but what was more impressive was that Jack hadn't turned into a basket case. Jack admitted to Vince that he was close to insanity before and during his stay with Johnny Jefferson at the factory, but he somehow managed to hold on.

Jack ran his fingers through his dark hair and protested, "You just don't know which day's gonna be your last."

"Well, that's a cheery way of looking at things."

"I'm thankful for you bringing me in, and for...you know, saving me at the crossroads. You
and
Claire." A tinge of sadness touched Jack as soon as he mentioned her name. He added, "You've done a good job here, you really have..."

"I feel a
but
coming." Vince smiled, awaiting Jack's response.

"I've been in places where I've been cooped up in a house, in a sports centre, and neither have been safe enough to stop those things."

Vince had no idea where Jack was going with this, and tried to hurry things along. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I'm just saying that if a hundred of those things come towards the camp, at the barrier, we could be in trouble, especially at night. How many have you got on watch for the nightshift? Two? Three men?"

"It's all we have." Vince clasped his hands behind the back of his head and leaned back. "The dead are not going to be able to move a HGV, whatever their numbers. And the rest of the camp is surrounded by eight-foot hedges."

"True, but they'll be stopping us from going out on runs if the camp is surrounded, and the people in here won't be able to settle either."

"Stop worrying," snickered Vince. "The men are not just for those freaks. The men on guard are for outsiders as well. People may think twice attacking us if they see that we have guns."

"We've seen how bad the town centre can be. One minute it's bare, the next...they're everywhere. We're only two miles from the town centre. What's stopping them from coming here in their droves?"

"Nothing," Vince said bluntly. "But that's why I'm so desperate for more people—people who can fight. I mean look at Karen. That crazy bitch's a warrior."

"She's pregnant."

"Doesn't matter. And Shaz can handle herself as well. Just a shame we lost Pickle."

"And your dad."

Vince laughed, "He reached the age of sixty-nine. Do you think we'll reach that age with those things out there, as well as desperate people who will do anything to feed themselves and their family? Medicines are dwindling out there, no hospitals. People could start dying slowly from stuff that was easily preventable last month. And what happens if Karen loses a lot of blood when she gives birth? She'll die, that's what. Or what happens if the baby is breached? It doesn't bear thinking about. Not only would be losing a warrior, but we'd be losing a nurse. I've come to realise that I need her."

Jack asked, "So are we gonna be looking for them tomorrow?"

"Yes
and
no. I'm not going into town again. Every time we travel, something happens. We'll make runs every half an hour to the Ash Tree pub. They should make it that far. They're tough girls."

"I hope they make it."

"I bet you do." Vince sniggered and winked at Jack, trying to lighten his sullen mood. "You were nearly balls-deep in that Shaz when I walked in."

"You're a fucking disgrace. Anyway, that was a mistake. I mean, I like her, but she only lost her husband under a month ago. It's a bit fucked up."

Vince released his hands from behind his head and leaned forward. "Everything's fucked up. Don't worry about it. Like you said: You just don't know which day's gonna be your last."

"I don't need sex. I've got two perfectly working hands. I won't say no to that drink, though." Jack checked his watch, dropping a massive hint. "It's nearly time to turn in."

"I'll get that Jack Daniels."

Chapter Forty Five

After Karen had placed one of the wooden chairs against the handle of the door in the hallway, she grabbed a second chair and placed it against the staff room door once both women were inside.

They were left with four chairs and a table, and Shaz walked over to the kettle and noticed the three glass jars. One had tea bags in it, one had sugar, and the final one was filled full of coffee. Shaz opened the lid off the coffee jar and took a deep inhale. "Ah, that's just a big tease."

"Stop sniffing then." Karen sat down and slammed her blood-stained machete on the table. In the old world it would have been considered unhygienic, but things were different now.

Shaz walked over to the chairs and tables and began sniffing the air. "You smell that?"

"Kind of." Karen was exhausted and ready for sleep, but Shaz was strutting around the room as if she had taken speed. She couldn't settle, and she was beginning to get on Karen's nerves.

"Why don't you sit down?" an exhausted Karen spoke with calm, but her frustration was growing.

Ignoring Karen, Shaz walked over to the cupboards that were attached to the walls, above where the jars and kettle sat, and began going through them. The first set of cupboards were filled with cups, plates, and extra sugar, coffee and tea. She spotted a packet containing cereal bars and took the box out. There were three left inside the original pack of five. She put one in her pocket and threw the other two onto the table. "For you and Junior."

The next cupboard had a packet of Cheerios, which she also took from the cupboard and put on the table, then she noticed the fridge in the corner of the room. She was certain that that was where the smell was coming from. She opened it up and immediately placed her grey T-shirt over her nose. The only thing worth consuming was a half litre bottle of water. She took it out and plonked it on the table next to the box of Cheerios. "Well that's breakfast sorted."

Both women were seated, and Karen threw her head back. She sat up straight and stared at the bracelet on Shaz's wrist that her son had made.

From out of the blue, Karen asked Sharon Bailey, "What was it like?"

Shaz was perplexed by Karen's question and had no idea what she meant. "Explain."

"You know." Karen blushed when Shaz told her to explain. "Giving birth. Look, if you don't want to talk about it—"

"No, it's fine." Shaz sat up and wasn't upset talking about bringing Spencer into the world. She blew out her cheeks and her mind went back seven years or so, trying to recollect the memories of one of the happiest days of her life. "The actual giving birth was predictably painful, but actually having Spencer in my arms was the best feeling ever. As soon as they slapped him on my chest, I knew things were gonna change for good. Why do you ask?" Shaz took her machete out of her belt, as the handle was digging into her pelvis as she sat, and placed it on the floor. She also did the same with Karen's. She didn't want to be looking at a bloody machete while having this conversation. "Are you warming to the idea now?"

"It's not that I don't want it. I just..."

"What? What is it?"

Karen began chewing her bottom lip before responding to Shaz. "Bringing up a child in this world is not fair on the baby
or
me."

"Things
will
get better."

"You reckon?"

Shaz nodded confidently. "We're only in week four. Once these things are disposed of, all we need to worry about is controlling the people that have lost their way." Shaz then looked at the concern on Karen's face. It was rare that she showed this emotion. "Is it bringing up a child that concerns you? Or, is it giving birth?"

Karen took a while to answer and Shaz could see the tears welling up in her friend's eyes. Karen began, reluctantly, "What if I die?"

"What do you mean?"

"During childbirth."

"You can't think like that. It
is
what it
is.
I'll be there every step of the way when the time comes."

"That's easy for you to say; when you had Spencer you had a midwife, gas and air—"

"I did, you're right. What can I say, Karen? I'm sorry that my labour was easier than the one you're going to experience."

"I wish Pickle was here." Karen's tears fell freely and rolled down her cheeks.

Shaz stood up and went round to comfort her friend. She didn't take offence that Karen wished Pickle was still around. He had been like a father or an older brother to her, and over the last three weeks or so they had become incredibly close. They had lost people, but somehow Pickle and Karen always managed to get out of their scrapes alive.

"The only time he leaves me," Karen sniffed, "and
this
happens."

"He was a tough bastard." Shaz was feeding off Karen's emotions, and could feel her throat becoming sore as it tightened. "And such a nice guy."

Karen added, "This whole thing had changed him for the better. He quite regularly used to go to the top of Cardboard Hill and sit on his own, enjoying the peace, the freedom."

"Maybe he always knew there would be a chance that he was..." Shaz never finished her sentence:
going to die someday
, but Karen knew what she meant.

"Maybe." Karen wiped her stained cheeks with her fingers, trying to compose herself. "I don't know what I'm going to do without him. I know it's only been three weeks or so, but we spent every minute together, apart from when we were in Heath Hayes and I had to go out in the van."

Karen remembered the two occasions she had left Pickle in the house. He had caught a fever and Karen had gone out to get some supplies. Out of the goodness of her heart she picked up a man who introduced himself as George Jones, but it turned out to be Jason Bonser, an ex-inmate that Pickle eventually recognised. It appeared that Bonser wanted rid of the housemates and have the shelter and supplies for himself. He sneaked into the room to smother Pickle, but was shot in the leg and dumped two miles down the road by Karen. Unfortunately he came back, with a hundred Snatchers following behind.

"If Pickle can die, then what chance do
we
have?" asked Karen.

"It was unfortunate the way he went. I was there, Karen. Pickle sacrificed himself for us, mainly Jack." Shaz rubbed her face; her energy had diluted and the tiredness was beginning to kick in. "You've got a baby on the way now. You need to keep it together and start being less bold."

"I'm not gonna change."

"You're gonna have to." Shaz bit her bottom lip, unsure whether to say anything more, but continued, "I'm sorry, Karen, but now you have a life inside of you. You're gonna have to take a step backwards from the violence. As soon as you get to the camp Vince will probably not allow you out on the runs."

"Fuck that." Karen huffed petulantly, and turned away. "I'm not staying in the camp to do the fucking washing."

"No, but you're a good nurse. You're good at caring for people."

Karen didn't agree with her friend. Karen had now changed. She was a nurse in the old world; in the new world she had adapted to being out in the thick of things.

Karen patted her stomach. "Nothing will happen to it. I'll make sure of it."

"You can't take that chance. It doesn't matter if it's four weeks old or thirty four weeks, you still have a life growing inside of you, and that is now your number one priority." Shaz then went back round the other side of the table and sat down.

Karen accepted her reprimand off of Shaz and playfully saluted her. She took both cereal bars and slowly crunched each one cantankerously, until all that was left was crumbs on the table. Taking the bottle, and feeling the water lashing down her throat, Karen was beginning to feel normal again.

"The Cheerios can wait till the morning," joked Shaz. "Did you notice any toilets in the corridor?"

Karen shook her head and said, "They're actually in the soft play area." She then pointed up at the opened skylight. "Just climb up and piss on the roof."

Shaz did exactly that, and once she returned from the roof, Karen asked her to shut the skylight as the bitter wind kept on sneaking in. Shaz then bent over and took her shoes off, peeled off her socks that were put inside the shoes, then straightened her legs and pushed her feet back, stretching the hamstrings. "Ah," she moaned in delight. "You should try this."

"No thanks."

Shaz continued with her stretch and Karen could see Shaz's lips quiver and her eyes becoming glassy. She waved her hands at her eyes and apologised to Karen for the emotional breakdown.

"Spencer?" asked Karen.

"It comes in waves. Right." Shaz clapped her hands together, trying to lighten the mood. "Where are we gonna sleep?"

"It's alright to cry, you know." Karen's face was filled with empathy for her mentally-tortured friend. "Losing a child is supposed to be the hardest thing any adult can go through."

"Which is why I want you to take a step back. You're my friend, Karen. I don't want anything to happen to you or the little one. You're not out of the twelve-week danger zone, remember that."

"Oh, that's cheery." Karen leaned back on her chair on its two legs, the way a child would sometimes do in class, and Karen pointed at Shaz and said to her, "If I do lose it within the next month or so, it'll be the best for everyone. Imagine if anything happened to that camp, and we're out in the woods again with a screaming brat."

"I'm serious," Shaz huffed. "I don't even find that funny."

"Okay." Karen leaned forward, bringing the chair back on its four legs. "Let's make a deal then. I'll look after my unborn and take a step back..."

"And?"

"And whenever you need to let go, if you need a cry, just go for it." Karen gave her friend a comforting look. "You've had no funeral, no closure. You need to grieve properly, whatever that means. Deal?"

"Deal," laughed Shaz. "I'll stop holding this in."

"Good." Karen turned her head to the side and emptied each nostril on the floor, smearing the contents with the sole of her shoe.

"Charming." Shaz sighed and had a look around the room. "So I'll ask again. Where are we gonna sleep tonight?"

Karen was unsure, and the body language of her raised shoulders told Shaz she had no idea. "This is the only room available. So, pick a corner."