Snatchers: Volume One (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 1-3) (6 page)

Chapter Ten

"Who is it?"

The person behind the hotel room door never answered Jack Slade. He walked towards the door and placed his ear next to the wood. He jumped when the gentle knock appeared behind the door once again. Jack spoke through the door. "Who's there?"

"Open the door," the voice urged in a whisper.

Jack blew out his cheeks in relief, and immediately opened the door. He was greeted by a large man, who looked at least thirty pounds overweight. His heavy breathing suggested that he needed to change his job, as his fitness was non-existent. Jack looked at the man's uniform; he seemed to be a security guard.

"Is there anybody else with you?" Jack asked the guard, who walked into the hotel room without waiting to be invited. Considering the crazy circumstances that were occurring, Jack was unbothered by this rude intrusion, and shut and locked the door once the rotund man was inside.

Still trying to catch his breath, the security guard shook his head and let out a breathy, "No." He sat on Jack's bed and placed his hands on his clammy head.

Jack needed answers. "So what's happening? What do you know?"

The man raised his hand at Jack, telling the impatient, panic-stricken man to hold on for a minute while he caught his breath.

"
What's happening
?" the man half-snickered, his accent was Glaswegian, and was still breathing like an asthmatic in a feather factory. "The end of the world, that's what's happening. And what do
I
know? You watched the TV?"

Jack nodded.

"Then you know as much as I do. As for the hotel—"

"What
about
the hotel?"

"I've had to lock it up. It was crazy this morning."

"Crazy? How?"

"People leaving in their droves this morning; some people are refusing to come out of their rooms, but it's not my problem anymore. I even had one guest who hadn't seen the TV and went down to the kitchens, pissed off that there was no breakfast. I told him to either go back to his room or leave, and explained to him what was happening. It's not everyday you need to inform someone that the apocalypse is happening."

Jack taunted, "I wouldn't actually go that far."

"Really? Have you seen the news?"

"I've seen enough."

"This is gonna be global, mark my words. You can't escape God's doing."

Jack Slade never responded to the security guard's comments, and had just remembered that he didn't even know his name. As if the guard was psychic, he suddenly held out his hand and introduced himself as Robbie Owen.

Jack smiled and told Robbie
his
name, and then the usual ramblings of
do you have a family?
began and they discussed their family in a brief one-minute summary.

Jack informed Robbie that he feared for his six-year-old son, who lived over four hundred miles away in England. As far as distant relatives were concerned, like uncles and cousins, he wasn't caring too much about them, and he didn't expect them to be putting
him
on top of their agenda either.

Robbie, on the other hand, was in a horrific quandary. He wanted to get back to his wife and three children in a place in Glasgow called Nitshill, only a few miles from where Jack lived in Pollok. Jack did mention that he lived not so far away, and Robbie's eye lit up once that information was given to him.

Robbie quizzed, "So you gonna stay cooped up in here, or you gonna try and get home?"

Jack smiled thinly at his new companion and spoke. "I'm gonna try and get home. Why? You want a ride?"

Robbie lowered his head and half-laughed. He nodded and Jack could see tears forming in Robbie's eyes. "That would be great. Have you managed to contact your family?"

Jack responded with a single nod of the head. "You?"

"Can't get through, I've text her though. If she's watched the TV, then she's probably taken the advice of going upstairs and barricading herself in the room with the wee 'uns. Anyway, make the most of technology. It won't be long before everything goes down, even carrier pigeon will be difficult."

"What are you talking about?"

"Think about it. We all have phones, right? How long before they cease to stop working? Who's topping up the phones if there is nothing on the end of the other line? Look at the complexity of the Internet. Who's gonna pull the levers? I remember seeing a documentary on the Hurricane Katrina catastrophe; those poor people were in a state for two months. Mobile phones were useless, and there was no Internet access. The only thing that worked was world band radio, and CBs that people worked by using a car battery. Where was the government? Nowhere to be found for five days."

Jack grew confused at Robbie's passionate rant, and he seemed a man that could lose his temper quite easily. He appeared to be someone not to get on the wrong side of. "What's your point?"

Robbie added, "My point is, when the shit hits the fan, you're on your own, my friend. I saw that places in London and other cities are being quarantined by the army, but if you live in a village or a wee town, you're fucked. I wonder how long it'll be before our army gets here?"

Jack said, "Probably never. We don't have the personnel. I think London will be the government's main priority. Can people still use the Internet though? I couldn't get anything on this shitty phone of mine."

"So far, but what's the fucking point, apart from e-mailing or Facebooking loved ones? If this thing goes on for more than a few weeks, people are going to be running out of food and water. The Internet is the least of their worries when you have an empty stomach and starving children. Even if electricity is still working, do you think when people are struggling to survive, people will be popping into the local cyber cafe for a wee hour if it was open?"

Again, Robbie's vexation grew the more he spoke and the more Jack asked questions. Jack felt it was understandable. Like everyone else, he was frightened, perplexed, and beleaguered that there was no support of any kind.

"I'm just saying, that's all," Jack spoke defensively.

Robbie smacked his lips together and bowed his head. Jack thought that that was the nearest he was going to get from Robbie as far as an apology was concerned, but it was something that didn't bother him, and something he didn't want to dwell on.

"So do you want that ride or not?"

Robbie smirked. "You bet. Please tell me you're parked in the hotel car park."

Jack Slade shook his head, and gave off an apologetic, enervated grin. "Afraid not. I'm parked at a NCP on Jamaica Street."

"That's a few streets away."

"Take it or leave it." Jack began to adjust himself, as if he was getting ready to leave.

"Lucky I brought these from the kitchen with me. We might need them." Robbie took out two kitchen utensils: a carving knife and a cleaver. He handed the cleaver to Jack, who immediately put it into his belt.

Jack tried a smile, but the moment he attempted it, his lower lip shimmered. "Shame."

"What?"

"You're a security guard. If we were in America you'd be carrying a gun."

"And attract attention with the noise from gunshots. What good would that do? We're trying to avoid these things, aren't we?"

"I don't even know what these
things
are. I just hope your God is looking down on us." Jack snapped, before opening the door.

"Just because evil happens in our world, does not mean that God is neither in control, nor sorrowful." Robbie walked over towards the window and pulled back the netting. His eyes widened, then narrowed as if he was trying to focus on something in particular. He continued to glare and waggled his head.

"What is it?" Jack was intrigued to know what it was that was disturbing the huge Glaswegian.

"This is the kind of shit that's happening across the country." He gestured with his hand for Jack to go and take a look.

Jack walked over to Robbie in no hurry at all, and half-closed his eyes as he usually did when a tense moment was building in the horror movies he used to watch. His eyes opened carefully and he could see three people crouched over a poor individual who was wriggling around, trying to get free. Jack reached for the handle and slowly opened the window, still transfixed on the scene that was occurring below him. As the window opened, the screams began to fill the room, they were horrific, and Jack was unaware that a grown man could make such a noise. The pain must have been indescribable. He shut the window tightly and looked at Robbie.

"Are they...
eating
him?"

Robbie nodded; his face was expressionless.

"But..?"

Jack couldn't find the words to finish his sentence, but Robbie understood the shock, as he felt the same when it first burst onto the television. The scenes of people being attacked on FOX and CNN were horrendous, although Robbie found it slightly funny in a black way that despite what was going on in the real world, he could still find a comedy channel and watch Fawlty Towers, Cheers or The Big Bang Theory if one felt the urge.

He obviously decided against it, and decided to see if people in the hotel were okay. He walked around the hotel, checking numerous doors for which he had the cardkey for all of them. Most people had already left the hotel; some stayed and there were three occasions that Robbie never received an answer and opened the door to see that the people that were staying had reanimated, and had probably caught the virus while out. Unless, they were attacked, bit or scratched by an infected rogue whilst out in the town, and then came back to the hotel, feeling unwell. He didn't have the answers.

This was a piece of information he didn't want to share with Jack, as he looked a nervous wreck as it was without informing him that some of these things were in the building, albeit, now locked in their rooms.

He wasn't sure if this was an airborne or a rabies-type virus that they were talking about on the TV. What he did know, was that it
was
happening, and he needed to be with his family. His priority wasn't to work out how this happened, it was to stay alive for his family and protect them.

But Robbie couldn't just go home.

For a start, he relied on public transport—which wasn't going to happen for the foreseeable future. The fear of the outside had kept Robbie in the hotel temporarily, but was still planning on leaving eventually. Thank God he had met Jack, he thought. He was ready to go home and be with his family. Luckily, instead of walking it, he now had a lift, thanks to Jack Slade.

Chapter Eleven

"Where're we gonna go?"

Jamie Thomson already had the answer to Janine's question. "Anywhere in the countryside. The less populated, the less danger."

He grabbed a stave from the bubble's locker and went into a storeroom on F wing.

Janine was left alone while Jamie was on the wing, and she could feel a quiver in her throat that slowly made its way up into her face. Her cheeks wobbled, her bottom lip palpitated and her eyes watered. She was trying her hardest to contain her sobbing and was doing it successfully to a certain degree, and although it was abundantly clear she was upset, her emotions were being refused by the young woman to surface. She gulped hard a few times as if that would help, and to her surprise, it did.

She thought about her parents and knew they would be safe if they locked themselves in the house and didn't try anything rash or stupid. To her own surprise, her mind wandered and she thought about her ex-boyfriend, Chris, who she had been with for three years. She didn't know why she thought of him. Chris had been with someone else for the last six months, but what was happening now had somewhat proved that she still had feelings for him.

I hope he's okay.

She loved Chris; although he was hopeless in bed, it never bothered her too much. Chris was less endowed compared to her previous two lovers and this clearly affected his confidence, and even after three months of being together, the sex was a routine. Bedroom—Lights off—Same position—Two minutes—No orgasm.

She didn't want to upset him and dent his confidence even more, so the bedroom situation was never brought up, as it ended up becoming something to get out the way. So her astonishment was justified, when she found out he had been cheating on her with a work colleague at his branch. She wished nothing but the best for him as he left, and despite the cheating and his lack of desire and excitement in the bedroom, he was still the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with and have children with.

Jamie returned with a rolled up duvet under each arm; he threw one to Janine.

He put the bag on his back; Janine didn't ask him what was in it. She assumed it was the contents of the staff's fridge. They both left the bubble and walked onto H wing and walked through the door that led to the exercise yard. Their sensitive eyes were greeted with the blinding sun. It was twenty-three degrees, a cold day for the population of Mexico City, but it was considered a hot day for the British.

They both looked at the top of the exercise fence, and both simultaneously dropped their duvets on the floor. There was no need for them, as the top of the fence that used to be covered in barbed wire was now covered in eighty cells worth of duvets, pillows and sheets from the prisoners when they escaped—or when they were released. They both approached the fence. They could see that they were a few hundred yards from the exit. They could see the huge slider door near the gatehouse, and two escorting vans that were used to take prisoners to court and back.

They both tried to climb the fence; the holes were so tiny it made the task a lot more difficult than it should have been. Behind them, dozens of frantic male voices could be heard coming from the windows of the other house block, all begging for their lives to be spared. There was nothing either Jamie or Janine could do for them.

"Try and ignore them," Jamie said to his female colleague.

Janine managed to get her petite frame over the fence before Jamie. Unfortunately for Jamie, he had the bigger hands and feet that were making it near impossible, but the heavy goods on his back as well didn't help. He thought about throwing the bag over the fence, but was worried if the tins and bottles inside would burst.

Janine waited at the bottom of the fence as she watched Jamie swing himself over to the other side and began to climb down slowly and tentatively. Janine was guessing that Jamie might be scared of heights.

Once he reached the bottom, they wordlessly jogged towards the ten-foot slider door, which was the only thing that prevented them from getting to the outside. Janine looked through the gap of the slider door and nudged Jamie in the side and pointed towards a field outside the prison grounds. Jamie also took a look through the gap and they could see about twenty figures walking away from the grounds; they were definitely inmates and must have been the last lot Jamie had released. They didn't seem in too much of a rush, but then again, they weren't escaping; they had been released. The danger was now waiting for them in the outside world, so the cons' hesitancy was perfectly understandable.

As both officers approached the gate, Jamie placed his hands on his knees, bent over, and waited a minute to catch his breath. He refrained from reaching for a drink of water in his bag, and took out his class two key. He had three sets of keys, class one, two and three.

The class one key was for doors such as the linen room, the workshops, etc,. The class two key was for outside gates, and the class three key was for the cells on house block two. House block one keys were different. Officers couldn't use a house block two key on house block one. It was all to do with security, and it had been successful, as the prison had not experienced any escapes, until today.

Jamie opened up the gatehouse office with his key, not surprised to see it deserted. The gatehouse was the entrance that was used by officers and visitors. Each individual would enter the gatehouse, sign in, and then empty their pockets, take off their shoes and walk through a metal detector.

Jamie took a look around as Janine waited patiently outside; there was no sign of panic or disorder, and the gatehouse office was immaculate, apart from one coffee cup that had a full cup of cold coffee in it. It belonged to Alan Davies. Jamie knew that because he recognised the cup. In red print, it had:
Sex Instructor! First lesson free.

He half-smiled to himself when he saw it; he hoped that Alan and his family would pull through this crisis—whatever it was.

He noticed a can of cola sitting on the desk; he looked behind him and selfishly opened the can and finished it within thirty seconds, wetting his rusty-like throat. He felt guilty for not telling or sharing with Janine, but the action had taken place now, and there was no time to dwell on it.

He took a set of keys off one of the hooks, and he looked at the key fob to look at what license plate number had been typed onto it. He then turned the red switch that opened the main slider, which was a huge steel door that was opened and used when vans came back from court and whenever deliveries would arrive. The huge slider could only be operated from the gatehouse so once the slider was opened, and the officers had left, it would remain open. Jamie knew that a handful of prisoners had decided to stay behind, but the slider remaining open never concerned him. The cons were given an opportunity to leave, so it was up to them to take it.

Once the large door eventually opened fully, Jamie took his work keys and threw them to the floor. They were of no use to him on the outside, and the radio he had disbanded earlier only worked on an internal network within the prison grounds and was controlled by people from the control room.

He left the gatehouse for the last time, the door automatically locked behind him once he closed it. Janine also disposed of
her
equipment, and the pair of them headed for the carrier van.

There were two prison vans. The one that they took was a white INVESCO, ten thousand kilo diesel van. It had seven cells, a guard seat, a storage locker and a fridge. The other van was similar, but bigger, and Jamie was quite happy to stick to the smaller one that he had chosen, simply because it was smaller, and would need less petrol to move about.

Janine got into the front, once Jamie opened it by pressing the button on the key fob.

"Hang on a minute," Jamie spoke to his female confederate.

He ran to the back of the van and began to empty his rucksack, putting the assortment of food and bottles of water into the van's fridge. He threw the bag into the store cupboard and was pleased to see two large jerry cans full of petrol. It was probably only enough to fill half the tank, but it was better than nothing. Jamie had a feeling that most petrol stations may have been sucked dry, and with no individuals to deliver more fuel, it wouldn't be long before the whole country would have to use their feet as transportation.

He double-checked the seven cells to see if they were empty—he didn't know why he did this—and jumped back out, closed the back doors and got into the front. He started the engine and saw the fuel gauge was full. He blew out his cheeks and a smile developed on his face, Janine looked at the gauge and she also smiled.

The van left the premises and drove onto the car park; both individuals looked back at their cars sitting on their own. In the car park sat Janine's Renault Clio and Jamie's beloved Porsche, but they weren't practical now; a bulky van carrying food and water was far more practical and safer than their vehicles. Janine's phone was hidden in the glove compartment of her car, as they weren't allowed to take them into the prison in case an inmate somehow managed to steal one of them. Jamie knew that she always kept hers in her car.

"Do you
want
your phone?" he asked Janine, as the van slowly pulled out of the car park. "Mine's at home."

She looked at Jamie with suspicion.
And what if you've changed your mind and drive off?
Get the van all to yourself.

Soaked with paranoia, she murmured, "Just go."

Their smiles turned into frowns, as they knew things would never be the same again. A lot of situations went through Jamie's head, things that he had forgotten to do. He thought that if he and Janine had stayed behind for a bit longer and had more time to think, they could have broken into the numerous vending machines around the prison. It was only chocolate and crisps, but it was food nevertheless and could come in handy one of the days. He also thought about the huge bottles that were inserted into the water coolers; they could have raided the storage cupboard and filled the back of the van with a few gallons of water. And what about the other prison van? If he wasn't in such a panic, he could have spent a few minutes trying to siphon the fuel out of the other van.

It was too late now; he didn't want to stop. At least they had some food and water. He knew why Janine wanted to stay behind, but what kind of a life would that be? There were resources out there in the big world: fuel, food, and maybe even shelter. Jamie wanted to live the best he could in such a dire situation, not hiding in some cold, dark prison, munching on crisps and eating cold tins of beans stolen from the inmates' cells.

Their windows were down on this glorious day—weather wise, and both individuals had their elbows resting on the side of the door. As soon as they spotted danger, the windows would be immediately up.

Janine finally spoke. "I wonder how all of this happened?"

Jamie kept his eyes on the road; he never looked at Janine or made any facial expression to suggest he had heard what she said. Jamie's answer to Janine's question wasn't quite the answer she was looking for, but he felt he was correct with his attitude.

"Doesn't matter what the cause was, or where it came from." He finally looked at Janine with his face devoid of any emotion. "Whatever it is, it's here. It's how we deal with it from now on, that's all that matters now."