Snatchers (A Zombie Novel) (12 page)

Chapter Twenty Two

He finished slurping his tepid coffee and decided to go to the toilet before embarking on his journey south. After he had finished, he picked his landline phone up, and dialled Kerry's house number, as he didn't know her mobile number off the top of his head—that information was in his smashed phone on Argyle Street. It rung out, and after four rings, Jack Slade didn't know if calling Kerry would be a counterproductive action, but he needed to tell her that he was coming. There was no way he was going to stay in Glasgow; he wanted to be with his son, whatever it took.

Inside his head, a voice was telling him:
If they live in a remote or sufficiently defensible area, they may be safer than you are. Don't get yourself killed by rushing to them assuming they need your help.

Jack knew that the greater distance between him and his son, the more difficult it would be to reach him and there could be a good chance that he wouldn't be there when he arrived.

He thought about the loudness of her landline phone and if it would attract any of the things if they happened to be lurking outside while Kerry and his son, Thomas, was hiding away somewhere.

He contemplated hanging up, but then the phone was picked up.

Kerry whispered
hello
down the phone.

"It's me," Jack said.

"What are you doing? Why didn't you ring me on my mobile, e-mail me or chat to me on the network."

"My mobile's fucked, and I wanted to hear your voice, I wanted to hear Thomas' voice."

"Well, don't call again."

"What have you told him?"

"I had to tell him the truth; he saw someone get attacked in my street, and asked me what was going on. But I still don't think he really understands. He's only six. He was hysterical for ages, but he's okay now. I'll put him on."

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, and a minute later Jack heard the familiar voice of his six-year-old son.

"Hi daddy."

As soon as those two words were spoken, Jack Slade's lower lip trembled with emotion. He sniffed in and cleared his throat. He didn't want his voice to be coated with fright; he already had a six-year-old boy who was probably scared to death at what was happening, and didn't want to concern him any further.

"Hi, son, what's happening?"

"Me and mummy are playing upstairs."

"Oh, that sounds good."

There was a long pause and his son spoke once more. "Daddy?"

"Yes, son, what is it?"

"There're monsters outside."

Jack could hear the emotion in his son's voice and tried to reassure his son that things were going to be okay, but Kerry had returned back onto the phone.

She snapped, "He's upset, don't call again, I'm unplugging the phone now. Stay safe, Jack."

"Kerry, I'm coming down."

She never heard the last sentence as she hung up the phone. Jack could understand why. Her priority was to keep her son safe, and he was the only thing that she was concerned about.

Jack didn't know the real situation that was occurring where Kerry was staying. For all he knew, there could have been dozens of them banging on Kerry's window aching to get in, but he wasn't sure. Despite Kerry threatening to unplug the phone anyway, he promised himself that he wouldn't try and call again no matter how much he wanted to hear his son's voice. If his phone hadn't of smashed in the city centre when he was with Robbie, he could have pre-warned her that he was coming down by text.

Jack carefully opened his front door and could see at least seven of the things moping around the street, and he saw the body of Robbie lying in front of him as he got into his car. He threw his bag in the back and started the engine and reversed quickly out of his drive. He slipped the car into first and stamped his foot down on the accelerator, and he swerved to his left to avoid hitting two of the beings that were in the middle of the street. He turned left at the roundabout and headed for the shopping mall, which also had a petrol station.

He finally pulled up at the petrol station, hoping that not all the pumps had been drained and that the electricity was still working, as that was what controlled the pumps.

Jack was aware that most cities had standby diesel generators that automatically kicked in if the power grid stopped performing, but he had no intention of staying in a city like Glasgow; he wanted to go back to his hometown. Would there be any electricity there?

Jack knew that if there was nobody to check the electricity transmissions, and nobody left to use the electricity in the lines and the nuclear plants kept churning out power, the lines would overload and the grid would die. So even if the pumps were full, without electricity they were useless, and this was the reason why Jack wanted to get some jerry cans.

The forecourt was empty as he pulled up; he tried the opened door of the kiosk and went behind the counter to flick the authorisation switch, then went back out and filled his car. He looked around at the huge mall car park to find that there were a handful of cars there, probably workers who had decided it was too dangerous to go back home. Although he felt for the people that may be inside, his main goal was to stay alive for his son, and after he filled up, he headed toward the kiosk for the second time.

He headed toward the pre-packed sandwiches and ate two. One was a chicken mayo, the white bread seemed a little stale, and the other was a BLT. He wasn't hungry, but he didn't know when he would have the chance to stop and have something further to eat.

He took a small carton of milk from the fridge and washed the stubborn bread down with the white stuff. He drained three quarters of the milk and dropped it to the floor like a thug.

He walked around the small area, and had a look round to see if there was anything that could come in handy. He couldn't see any jerry cans on display, and thought they would have been perfect to top up with petrol. He was disturbed by a thud coming from the door that read
Private - Staff Only.

He heard the thud again and stepped toward it. It was a wooden door, but had a rectangle window about a foot long in the middle of it. He tried the door but it was locked. He peered into the window but he couldn't see anything, it was too dark. So he stepped closer, and gulped hard as his curiosity overcame his cowardice. His face pressed up against the glass, but like before, the darkness tried to persuade him that there was nothing to see.

He took a step backward away from the door and saw to his right a light switch. Convinced that the switch was for the room he couldn't see in, he reached for it and flicked it.

The bright light rapidly filled and drenched the room with its yellow glow, and Jack could see one of the things on its knees eating what was left of a human. The thing looked up at the bulb and covered its eyes and made an awful cry; it seemed to despise the light, like a human would if they were drenched in darkness for a while.

Jack pressed his face against the glass and could see that the thing on its knees was wearing a uniform, probably someone who worked in the forecourt. It was unaware of Jack's presence, and continued to feast. All Jack could see was a huge dark pool on the floor, entrails strewn around like spaghetti, the legs were intact and hadn't been touched, but the head lay separate in the corner of the room. A uniform of some sort was also seen on what was left of the person that had been devoured. Jack thought that it might have been a work colleague.

Jack turned the light off, leaving the creature to eat his meal in peace. He had seen enough and was proud of himself that he never threw up his pre-packed sandwiches, although his stomach
was
performing cartwheels.

He couldn't understand how the two individuals were in that situation; the only conclusion he could fathom, was that the two workers were working nightshift and a creature attacked one of the workers. Maybe they then hid in the staff room, not knowing that one was infected.

With his cleaver in hand, he decided to leave the kiosk and headed back outside. He looked out to the car park once more and could see two of the things that weren't there previously; they were about five hundred yards away. He saw the revolving doors to the mall, and decided to check the place out.

The place had only been built five years ago, and was just what the community needed, not just for the shops but for the jobs it created as well. It had over eighty shops and restaurants and attracted people from afar to visit the place.

He was going to need more clothes eventually as the weeks went by, and thought of a few stores that he could walk into and take a bag full of jeans, shirts and underwear to stick into the back of the car. The extra clothes didn't cross his mind back home, it didn't seem important, but he was here now, and if the place was empty then he was going to take the opportunity.

It was an idea that was quickly quashed as he trotted toward one of the entrances of the mall. There were three entrances in all, and his heart galloped as he saw a grisly sight.

The mall was packed; there were hundreds of the things moping around inside and some noticed Jack, standing, watching aghast. Some of them stumbled toward the glass and clawed at the windows, sometimes vomiting dark blood onto the pane. Also, the revolving doors, thankfully, appeared locked, and some of them were trying to get out via the revolving doors, but they weren't budging. It was like a prison for the dead.

Like the kiosk incident, Jack tried to guess what had happened in there. He assumed that either security had locked the place down to contain the incident, or it had been locked down by accident by the things entering the security office. The place opened at 7am, which was roughly around the time the breakout was being broadcasted, and Jack's theory was that the place, under instruction, had been locked down to stop other potential attackers from coming in. But unbeknown to them, a massacre was taking place on their own shop floor as people inside already had the virus, and may have already began attacking unsuspected shoppers that hadn't been affected.

Jack thought that all it took was one shopper to be bitten or scratched and then to walk into the mall, be taken to a room by security if they were not feeling well, and then for the thing to attack security and cause a biting epidemic to rapidly spread among the confused shoppers. According to the BBC, the bitten ones took between anything between an hour or longer to change, depending on the severity of the bite, as the virus from the mouth of one of the creatures would infect the bloodstream.

Jack was sure that it was all guesswork. No one knew a damn thing! Each theory contradicted another and he certainly didn't believe it was God's work. Had the big man had finally tired of our selfish and greedy ways?

He shook his head like a parent's disapproval of a naughty child. The clothes would have to wait. He was then surprised to hear a female voice coming from above him.

He looked up to see two young girls, no older than twenty, looking out of one of the windows about four floors up. There was a series of windows across the building quite high up, and Jack guessed that they were staff rooms, canteens and storage rooms.

"I can't stop," Jack informed the two frightened girls apologetically.

"Please!" the blonde girl begged. "A woman collapsed, then got up and started attacking people. I only live up the road, just take me to see my parents. They're okay, I've been speaking to them by phone."

"I can't get up!" Jack protested. "There're hundreds of them inside, it's impossible."

She placed her hand over her mouth and began to cry, she looked behind her to the room she was in and announced to someone, "He said there're hundreds of them downstairs."

The other girl also broke down and pleaded to Jack to help her. He knew why they were still where they were. They couldn't possibly escape by jumping, as the height from the window wouldn't necessarily kill them, but it could at least sprain an ankle or break a leg. And an individual with a broken leg would be an eventual limping meal for the determined man-eaters.

"Look." Jack was being suffocated by the quilt of emotional blackmail, but his son was his top priority. "Just sit tight, and someone will come and rescue you."

"Who?"

"I'm sorry. I've gotta go."

Jack Slade jogged away from the complex and tried to hum in his head to drown out the desperate pleading and screams that were coming from the window. He turned around to see another three people hanging out of the window. The further he went away from them, the more the begging turned to vociferous verbal slandering. It went from:
Please help us! We're begging you!
to
You fucking pig! You're going to hell for this!

Jack shook his head.
It's like being verbally assaulted by a group of schizophrenics.

There seemed to be dozens of people trapped, but he couldn't help them. He took a look behind him to see the two beings in the car park following him.

He never panicked, as they were too far away. He took hold of the cleaver and thought of striking them for a second, but changed his mind.

They were now ten yards away and he quickly opened his driver's side, threw the cleaver onto the passenger seat and drove out of the forecourt. One of them slapped the rear of his car as he sped off, and that was the nearest they got.