Snatchers: Volume One (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 1-3) (11 page)

Chapter Twenty

According to her watch, it had been twenty minutes since the incident at the cemetery, and Karen Bradley had now finally calmed down. Her heart had stopped jabbing the inside of her chest, her breathing was now similar to a normal human being, rather than a person who sounded like that their face had been temporarily covered with a polythene bag. Her perspiring had subsided, as before, her forehead was reminiscent of a dripping shower-head that hadn't been turned off properly.

She looked at her undecorated fingers and thought of Gary. When he had proposed he gave her a ring, but she always refused to wear it for work, as she was paranoid in case she lost it. It was still in her dresser drawer, but she was never going to get it back now. She had stopped walking for the last ten minutes, and as soon as she sat down, a heavy duvet of tiredness had covered her and despite the horrendous situation the country was in, her body was aching for sleep.

Her head fell forwards an inch, and she bolted up as her sleep deprivation gave her a fright. She rubbed her hands over her face and playfully slapped herself. Her nightshift at the hospital was catching up with her, and now the adrenaline was wearing off and she was finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. She looked at her watch and knew that normally she would have been in bed for at least an hour by now, after a ten-minute foot massage from Gary.

*

She shot up, and her body was in a right angle shape and her back was now straight with tension. Karen placed the palm of her hands on the grass to compose herself and took a look at the time, she had been out for an hour.

She couldn't believe it.

She couldn't believe how stupid she had been.

It was an hour her body needed, but she was exposed out in the woods, and the cemetery incident happened only five hundred yards away. There was no guarantee that those things wouldn't follow her into the woods.

She brushed the grass and twigs out of her dark brown shoulder-length hair, and mustered up the energy to get to her feet. As soon as she did this, she heard a crack, and wasn't sure if it was her knee or a twig being stepped on in the distance—she was hoping it was her knee.

She heard another crack that confirmed that her knee wasn't the original culprit. And although she was certain she could outrun one of those things now her body was refreshed a little, she still shook with trepidation.

It came from her right, deeper into the woods. She glared at the full bloomed, condensed, suffocating trees, and could see nothing but outstretched branches. She took a paranoid look around her before glaring back in the same direction, in case she was surprised by one of them from behind. The more she stared, the more she wanted something to be there, so at least then she would know which way to run. It was the waiting that was killing her.

She looked around to see if there was anything she could use for a weapon; she moved five yards to her left and found a branch the same weight and length as a club.

She ripped off the smaller branches that were attached to the broken branch and kept it in her right hand. Now that the smaller twigs had been removed, it now resembled something that could damage an individual if need be.

She took a practise swing as if she was playing softball, and was appeased that it wasn't too heavy to use if the moment of desperation arrived. She continued to gander into the crowded wood and thought that she saw a flash of a garment. Whoever was in there, they were wearing a red top. She was seriously thinking about running, but needed to see for definite that it was one of those things first.

Although she appreciated that it was a wacky thing she was executing, her mind was focused on following the figure that seemed to be twenty yards in front of her. Now she was walking deeper into the woods, and even though her own walk created the sound of rustling and the snapping of defunct twigs beneath her feet, she continued to pursue the figure that looked to be on its own.

The figure had stopped moving and as she crept closer, she was appreciative that her breathing was becoming less clamorous as the agitation intensified within her.

She wasn't certain that whatever
she
could see, had not seen
her
. As she was now only ten yards away from the motionless figure that remained on its feet, she dropped gently to her knees to get a better look, and grabbed the thick branch tightly now with both hands wrapped around it. She waited for it to make a move. Despite only being ten yards away, the condensed area still hid most of the figure and the only thing she could make out was that it was wearing a red top and combat trousers. She was beginning to feel pain in her left calf and moved off her knees to a squatting position, which created a light rustle.

"Who's there?" a male voice quizzed in a threatening whisper.

Her eyes widened once the person spoke. It was human, a male human. She wasn't on her own. He asked the question again.

Karen stood to her feet. "Hello," came her short salutation.

His hands grabbed some of the branches that were disguising the female he could only half-see, and once he released the last branch, he walked into a spatial part of the woods where she was now standing. He was tall, had blonde, short hair, had a prominent chin and was carrying a sports bag on his back.

"Thank God." He placed the palm of his hand on his chest. "I thought I was all alone. My name is Oliver. Oliver Bellshaw."

Karen lowered the club, and never realised it was possible to release a half-laugh and a half-cry simultaneously, but she somehow managed it, and the relief she felt was immense.

"Karen," she began and held out her hand. "Karen Bradley."

As soon as she shook his hand, Karen sat down on the grass and put her head in her hands, she waved her dukes at Oliver apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'm just off nightshift and I'm knackered."

"Ah, I noticed the uniform. How did you get here?"

Oliver decided to sit next to Karen, and let out a lengthy sigh.

"It's crazy what's happening," Karen said, oblivious that she had just ignored Oliver's question. The tiredness was mashing with her head.

Oliver nodded. "I woke up and went down to my local shop for a newspaper. Got attacked on the way there by two drunks...at least at first I
thought
they were drunks. I ran off, but they followed me back home. I tried to call the police, couldn't get an answer. Then I made myself a cup of tea to calm myself down and I put the TV on. The only channel I could get was the foreign channels. I couldn't believe what was happening. Then I left again to see if my mother was okay, this time in my car, but I got stuck in a ditch."

Karen felt her nose all blocked up and unashamedly turned away from Oliver and emptied each individual nostril, by blowing out and pressing the other with her thumb. "What about your family?"

Unbothered by Karen's action, Oliver answered her question. “Well I don't have kids, if that's what you mean. Me and the wife tried for years, but it never happened. Should be thankful now, I suppose. I only have my mum left."

She wiped her nose on her forearm once. She never made eye-contact when she asked him the next question, as if she wasn't really that interested. "Where's your wife?"

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. "We separated two years ago; I tried to ring her, but she has a new guy now. I suppose she's not my problem anymore, and I'm not hers either. She never tried to call me."

"Maybe there was a good reason for that." Karen pulled an awkward face once she said what she had said; it wasn't something that she could take back. She probably thought that Oliver had thought about this as well, but to hear from someone else that maybe your wife was dead, probably wasn't the easiest thing to hear.

Clearly upset by Karen's remark, Oliver cleared his throat and asked with a shudder in his voice. "What about you?"

"I had a boyfriend." Karen felt a dull ache in her stomach; a mixture of emotions and the beating she had received from her carjacking experience was the cause of this. She knew that she was seconds away from bursting into tears. "He turned into one of them."

"Bitten?"

Karen shook her head and screwed her face, creating wrinkles. "I don't know. I didn't see a bite. I think he was scratched, and then went to bed unaware he was infected."

Oliver shuffled his backside to get comfortable. "According to the TV, before I lost the picture, there has been some kind of rabies outbreak in the north. It seems that they're passing on the virus through the mouth."

Karen placed her hand over her mouth, and gulped to prevent her sobbing, forcing some contents to escape from her nose. She sniffed hard immediately, trying to hide her embarrassment and said, "I just can't believe it."

"They reckon if one of them bites you, you're screwed. If you get ambushed by a gang of them, then prepare for a fate worse than death. Being eaten alive isn't my way of going, I can tell you that. Crazy isn't it?"

"What is?" Karen quizzed.

"Our family members, whether it's cousins, nieces, nephews...are either dead, or are somewhere frightened to death, and for some reason I don't feel anything, not yet."

"You're probably numb, it's shock. I've had a few breakdowns already, I can tell you."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly sad, but don't feel the urge to cry yet."

"Probably the best way to be."

Karen yawned and Oliver noticed a little white gunk at the end of her lips; she looked dehydrated. He took off his bag and ruffled in it, then pulled out a litre of water and handed it to her.

"You sure?"

Oliver smirked. "Drink the lot, I've got more in here."

He also took out a chocolate bar and handed it to Karen, and then took out a can of coke for himself. He cracked the can open, and swigged it furiously, two drops of coke ran down each corner of his mouth. He scrunched the can and let out a huge belch, which made Karen smile, and he tossed the crushed can into the bushes.

"So what now?" he picked Karen's brains.

She shrugged her shoulders.

He added, "It's gonna be dark in ten hours, we can't stay here permanently."

"What do you suggest?"

"Well, I was gonna try and walk along the main country road to that little village, Hazelslade. See if any kind people would put me up. I suppose putting up a camp at Stile Cop would be the safest bet, depends if the place is swarming with the Snatchers, I suppose."

"Snatchers?"

"Short for Bodysnatchers." Oliver smiled. "My little nickname for them—okay, so I heard it on the radio," he confessed. He looked at Karen, as she yawned once more. She looked exhausted.

"Look," Oliver began. "Let me make a suggestion. I know you hardly know me, but you look shattered. Why don't you get an hour, I was planning on resting myself anyhow."

Oliver was expecting Karen to spew out excuses that she didn't need any more sleep, and was surprised to see her nod in agreement. "I think we're pretty safe in here…for now."

In such a short space of time, she trusted him. This flattered him. He smiled at her and took a short handled axe and a jumper out of his bag. He suggested that she could use the jumper as a cushion if she wanted.

Overwhelmed by such a small gesture, she accepted his offer, pecked the kind man on the cheek, and was asleep within the minute.

Chapter Twenty One

After taking in valuable seconds of sunlight onto his face, David Pointer side-stepped his way across the Baird's roof as all four family members lay dead in their bed beneath him. He was getting nearer to his house and was now on his neighbour's roof that belonged to the New York-stranded Noble family. He scanned the area below him with his scared eyes, and saw that his own street was becoming busier with the things.

He stood and eyeballed intently, trying to count the beasts using his index finger. In his street alone, he counted twenty-three. He felt that in a week, if no help was provided, he and his family were going to have to spend their days in the attic. It was surely only a matter of time before the creatures forced their way into his house. His front door wasn't very strong and could be kicked in by a ten-year-old; they never felt the urge to replace it, as the crime in the town was non-existent apart from the odd drunken misdemeanour. He lived in a great community where everyone knew each other, and only one household in his street had a burglar alarm, proving how crime-free the place was.

He heard a groan coming from underneath him, and turned to see one of the creatures shuffling about in the Noble's back garden.

Shit! The gate at the front that leads to an alleyway into the back garden must have been opened.
Which meant, if
one
of them could get in there, the back garden could be eventually entertaining the whole street.

His left foot slipped on one of the tiles and it brought back memories of David telling his neighbour that his roof was a disgrace, and that he should get it re-roofed in the next five years.

His neighbour claimed that they couldn't afford the ten grand that it cost, and that David should rightly mind his own fucking business. Even though it was none of his business, David was anxious for them to get it done, because it was making
his
house looked untidy, and it was the only house of the block of eight that hadn't been re-tiled in the last ten years. From the outside it looked dirty and grimy, and it certainly felt like that under his feet. He hadn't noticed it before, as previously he walked across the spine of the roof, but now he was in the middle of it, desperate to get back to his family.

Thinking that the spine method was more than likely the safest way to get back to his own skylight, he headed upwards. A tile from underneath his left foot fell loose causing him to fall flat on his stomach, and felt a dull sensation in his middle where he landed on the hammer that was tucked into his belt.

He could feel his body slowly sliding downwards, only about two inches per second, but it was enough to send panic through his body. His desperate hands tried to grab onto something that would stop his momentum, but all that happened was that he grabbed a tile that would immediately come away. His slow momentum was held up by the weak guttering where his two feet were pressed up against. He was unsure how do get out of the situation, and frantically looked behind him to see where the thing was.

He couldn't see where it was, so he accepted that it was probably underneath him by the house waiting for his fall, and the falling tile that slid off and shattered on the concrete floor was to blame for attracting the thing.

He looked down to his left and saw the start of the house drainpipe, and thought that if he could somehow slide to the side and fall down to the drainpipe, he could hold on and swing himself back into his own garden. Then he could climb up his own drainpipe, providing he hadn't broken his leg, and head upwards onto his own roof, where the climb to the skylight should be a little less troublesome. Trying to climb upwards, back towards the spine of the roof was suicidal and not an option.

He wasn't thinking about the knife that was sitting in the guttering, he had completely forgot about that incident. The knife sat in the guttering only inches away from his feet, but he didn't even notice it.

Without an ounce of dawdling, he released his grip and allowed his body to slip, and threw his feet over the guttering to continue the slide and wrapped his arms around the drainpipe. It was easier than he had envisaged.

He could see beneath him, and his assumptions from before were correct, the ex-human being was underneath him. It was waiting on his fall, impatiently, and made an awful growling noise. The thing looked like it used to be an elderly gentleman. If it was a resident from his own street, he didn't recognise it.

David slid further down the drainpipe and looked to his left, seeing that his garden was only feet away. If he timed his jump wrong, there was a large chance that he could make contact with the six-foot wooden fence, which at best would leave him with broken ribs and he would fall back into his own garden. And at worst, he could be left with broken ribs and into the garden where his predator stood.

As he slid further down the pipe, the desperate groans became more audible. David was now eight feet from the ground, and this was the moment he was going to use his feet to spring off the wall and land very uncomfortably on his grass lawn.

He feared that a damaged shoulder was going to be inevitable, but he preferred this option rather than facing what was waiting underneath him.

He leaned back, whilst clinging onto the pipe with desperate hands, and before he had the chance to push himself off over into his own garden, he could hear and feel the pipe giving way to his two hundred pound frame. It was now or never, but his reluctance to jump became his downfall, as the pipe moved further away from the house. A bracket that was drilled into the wall had come away, and David Pointer jumped backwards, facing the house, and landed on top of the thing that was waiting for him.

He quickly clambered to his feet, frightened that he was going to get bit, and ran to the end of the Noble's garden like a frightened child.

The creature slowly got to its feet and staggered towards him. David looked at his fence, and thought that he could climb over it before the creature reached him, but something stopped him from doing this.

He felt that if he didn't dispose of this thing now, it would see him escaping and climbing to his roof. Meaning, that this almost unstoppable being would relentlessly try and get into his garden and this would also attract the attention of others. He needed to do this for the safety of Davina and Isobel.

He pulled out the hammer from his belt and saw the thing snarl like some prehistoric creature. He remembered what he saw on TV.
Aim for the head
. David was unsure whether one hammer blow would be enough, but with both hands he rained the first blow as it came into striking range. The thing fell to the floor, and David ran over to the other side of the garden, scared witless he was going to get grabbed or feel the awful teeth sinking into his warm flesh.

He went over and closed the wooden gate that led to the front of the house, in case others tried to get in. It slowly got to his feet, and sped towards him. The quickness of the thing took him by surprise the second time round; he nearly dropped the hammer but he autonomously rained another blow, this time catching the side of its head. It was a weak effort compared to the first one, but David put that down to lack of preparation because of the scare he received as the beast galloped towards him.

The thing wasn't
that
quick, it went after him about the speed of a gentle jog, but because initially the being looked docile and clumsy, the unexpected speed of its attack scared the shit out of him.

He ran to the other end of the garden once more; he saw a curtain twitch five-doors down, telling him that his family wasn't the only one trying to survive. He envisaged the whole street peering out towards the back, egging him on, urging him to kill at least
one
of those fuckers! He hardly felt like Crowe in Gladiator, neither did the back garden feel like the Coliseum, but knowing he was being watched spurred him on.

It trundled towards him, the same way a man would after consuming a bottle of vodka, and David's third and final blow smashed through the front skull of the creature; dark liquid spat out and went over his shoulder, thankfully missing his face altogether.

Its eyes rolled. The hammer was still embedded into the top of the skull as the thing fell to its side and collapsed onto the grass. David didn't have time to wallow in his victorious battle, or bow before his audience, as the wooden gate that he had just shut was being rattled.

There was more trying to get in from the street!

Many more!

Taking the hammer, he climbed the fence, and swung his body over to his own back garden and landed on his feet. He looked to his own gate, satisfied that it was bolted, and ran towards the back of his house, and although out of breath, he began to climb his own drainpipe hoping that this one would hold out. It did.

Many tiles were lost as he climbed his way to his skylight, and before he knocked on the glass for his wife to let him in, he took a look over his right shoulder to the Noble's back garden.
Fuck! They're in!

He shook his head with despair, and cursed himself for being so moronic, for being so nosey and for trying to be a damn hero! He had now put his family in danger, something a father should never do. He wondered even more now, if staying in his house was the right thing to do as he glared hypnotically at the garden.

"There's fucking loads of 'em," he muttered under his breath.

At least twenty of them roamed around, but they were still pouring into the back garden via the forced opened gate from the street. It was like a garden party for the dead, but where was the buffet? Some of them looked up at David and strolled towards the six-foot wooden obstacle that prevented them from getting to the house from the back.

David thought that the fence didn't matter, all they needed to do was go around the front and try and get in through the living room window. It was blocked off, but it hadn't been tested yet.

Surely it was only a matter of time before they forced their way in.