Snatchers: Volume One (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 1-3) (61 page)

Chapter Fifty Four

Once the four people had left, Jack Slade remained standing in the reception area. Outside, the clouds were suffocating the sun's glow and allowed in little light. He remained on his feet and thought about the out-of-bounds office where his son died and where Kerry had taken her life. He rested his head on the palm of his hand and began to cry. How could he live without his boy? He seemed to have coped reasonably okay when he was living in Glasgow and spent weeks without seeing him. But now he was dead, there didn't seem much point carrying on.

He stepped away from the door and tried to compose himself, ignoring the clamour coming from outside where the things were in their hundreds, desperate to get through the glass and devour Mr Slade.

Unbothered by the attention he was receiving, Jack walked further towards the window in the reception area and went face-to-face with his admirers, and the only thing that was stopping them from eating him was the thick pane of glass. His closeness seemed to excite them as the sea of rotting faces snarled, grabbed and spat blood onto the pane, desperate to get in and rip him to bloody shreds.

He stared at them and knew that Kerry had done the right thing. It would have hurt him even more if Thomas had turned into one of those things, and Kerry felt she had no choice
but
to kill herself. She couldn't live with herself that she had to take Thomas' life, before the infection did. She wanted to be with her boy. She didn't want him to be on his own.

Jack agreed with her thinking. He was sick of running. What was he surviving for, now that his son was dead? What was the point in running? There was no point.

Jack's gentle sobbing turned into anger and he punched the glass of the reception area, then punched it again, which seemed to stir the dead even more, if that at all was possible as dozens upon dozens of rotting hands clawed, smacked and hammered against at the window pane, creating the first crack. Jack then turned his back and began to walk away, fuelling the excitement of the beings on the other side, and he walked nonchalantly past the gym area and up a flight of stairs where the free weights section was, as well as the dance studio where Wilkes and co were shambling about in their new, dead world.

Jack looked over at where a set of weight-plates stood against a wall near a dip station; he walked over to pick up one of the three leather belts that sat in the corner that was used by serious lifters to protect their back, and glared at the Weider belt in morbid fascination. He then walked to the front of the first floor weights section and looked over the edge, staring down at the swimming pool. The first floor had a barrier that consisted of three metal bars that went horizontally to stop people falling over the edge.

Standing against the metal barrier, Jack could see the view of the sports centre. The swimming pool was right below him, and the cardio machines were around the pool area as well as other machines. He then looked at the barrier again, and then stared at the belt. He slowly tied the belt into a hoop and tied it to the highest horizontal bar of the barrier.

He was going to hang himself. He felt it was the only dignified way out of this mess.

Then suddenly he heard a crash, and knew that through the reception they were getting in. He glared down at the area from the first floor and could see the first two coming from the reception area to his left, entering the gym.

Jack gulped, and a hint of regret from his body began to emerge that he never went with Pickle and co. There was no going back now, or so he thought.

He tied the belt around his neck and knew that one jump could end it all right now. And it would be reasonably painless; the belt had enough slack to make it reasonably quick as well. He knew he would suffer for a few seconds, maybe even a whole minute, rather than immediately breaking his neck, but it must have been better than being eaten alive, surely. His feet stood on the first horizontal bar; he slowly climbed over and was now on the other side of the barrier, his arms behind him, holding on to the third and highest bar, leaning forward.

He looked up; at least twenty were in and they knew exactly where to go in the open gym area; they were heading upstairs towards where he was. All he had to do was let go of the third horizontal bar of the barrier and then he would fall to his death, but he was reluctant, and this angered him, as he knew what the alternative method of death would be if he didn’t hurry up.

He closed his eyes and prepared himself to jump, trying to blank out the groans to his left and right as the creatures clumsily stumbled and crawled up the stairs on all fours. He thought about the crazy ten days that he had experienced.

He thought about waking up in that Glasgow Hotel to find the world had changed. Meeting Robbie. Then hacking a reanimated Robbie in his own driveway. Then driving south. Crashing the car. Passing out. Being attacked by a ghoul near the pond. Meeting Gary. Finding his son. Then losing Gary.

It had been a fucked up ten days, and what scared him was that he didn't know if he would last another ten if he decided to have gone with Pickle, but if he did, what was about to greet him? More episodes of terror? Surviving day to day? Would he be given time to mourn for his son? He didn't seem to think so.

Fuck it!

He jumped.

And as soon as he did, he regretted his decision. He could feel the burning across his throat as he swung thirty feet above the swimming pool and tried to grab the belt to loosen it.

He had changed his mind. He wanted to live. Or at least, he wanted to give it a go.

His legs kicked out as his throat got tighter, and his giddiness was telling him that the lack of oxygen to the brain was occurring and that he may have a minute left to live, if that. His eyes rolled as the belt cut into his throat and suddenly he felt like he was floating. He could feel the brush of air over his face as if he was flying, but that feeling was soon quashed once he was engulfed in water.

He quickly stood up and began to cough violently, which was due to a mixture of his strangulation and swallowing the water. He rubbed and opened his confused eyes and found himself standing in the middle of the shallow end of the swimming pool. He looked up to see that the belt had untied itself and hadn't been strong enough to hold his weight.

Having no time to embrace the second chance fate had given him; he looked around in panic and saw some of the things calmly tumble into the pool after him. It took a while before they found their feet in the pool, but once they did, they walked towards him as determined as ever. He knew they couldn't drown; they were already dead.

Fearing the kind of death that could be experienced, he swam to the other side of the pool, as one-by-one the bodies tumbled in until the pool was awash with the things. He needed to get to the edge and although most were behind him, there were two in front, blocking his escape. He remembered the time at Stile Cop Cemetery when he and Gary were ambushed by three of them. He used the same, desperate technique Gary had used. It was either that or die.

The first one, a female, grabbed him by the shoulders, but with no hesitation Jack rammed his forefinger into the eye socket, grabbed the back of the thing's hair, pulled the head back and continued to stab at the brain with the finger until the thing collapsed and dropped into the pool. The last one was tough and Jack threw a punch at the thing, which forced it to tumble over clumsily. Aware that they were gathering around him inside and outside the pool, Jack had to make it quick. He pushed the thing over and tried to climb out of the pool. Feeling hands grabbing him and trying to pull him back in, Jack panicked and cried out in fright. A vision of him being pulled back into the water and being bitten by dozens of the things, creating a mass of blood like something out of the film
Jaws
, flashed through his mind. He didn't want to die the way Quint did, by being dragged into the water and being torn to shreds.

He finally got to his feet and could see the things from the first floor were now trying to get back downstairs. Jack tried to run, but his soaked clothes were weighing him down. He grabbed a 5kg kettle bell from the racking and swung it at anything that got in his way, as he tried to make his way to the fire exit door where the others had escaped. He was aware that there could be some nasty surprises waiting for him outside, if he made it outside, and was determined to keep hold of the kettle bell.

He swung it violently to his right, hitting two of the things, although not killing them, and used his foot to kick them away as most were behind him in their dozens in the sports centre, with the other hundreds in the car park still clambering to get in through the smashed window of the reception area.

There was one solitary being by the fire exit with a T-shirt that had
Slightly Damaged Human
on it. He swung the kettle bell as hard as he could at the thing that used to look like a male, and its head with the weight and force of the kettle bell was almost obliterated.

The almost headless body fell to the floor with a slump and Jack crashed out of the fire exit—a stupid tactic in hindsight, as he didn't know what was behind it—and saw that there was ten of the things round the back, wandering around, lost, while most were in the car park still following the rest
into
the centre through the gap in the reception area.

As soon as a handful of them clocked him, he knew it was going to be a punishing, tiring, and bloody battle if ever there was a chance he could get over the metal fence.

They walked towards him and with one swing, two were taken out. It didn't create too much mess, but they never got back up again. He kicked the next one that went for him, which tumbled over. He ran ten yards around the small horde, giving his tired arms some breathing space. Three stepped forwards, and the kettle bell was swung like a hammer throw in the Olympics. Two went down with massive head injuries, causing black gunk to fly out. Another swing took out the third, with half of its head falling away to the floor; the dark diseased brain fell with it. There was five left, including the one he had kicked earlier. A bloated figure that resembled an elderly lady went for him; he grabbed her hair and simply threw her to the ground and brought his heel down, crushing the head. He was surprised how easy it died and although the kettle bell was hard work, he didn't want his shoes and socks drenched with the thing's blood, so it was a tactic that he never went back to.

Four left.

Jack jumped forward and kicked one of them over, he then took a step backwards and swung the kettle bell into the side of the head of one of them, immediately killing it, and it dropped to the ground. The two others were taken out with three more swings. One remained twitching on the floor, which ceased once he brought down the kettle bell that smashed its skull into a bloody and squishy mess. The kettle bell looked like it had been dipped in tar.

One left.

The one that he had kicked over was scrambling to its feet and at this point, Jack Slade was exhausted.

"Come on, Jack." He tried to urge himself on. "Just one more." He then saw scores spilling out of the fire exit door he had crashed through earlier. He cried in exasperation, "Oh, fuck me." He swung the kettle bell into the head of the thing and knowing they were spilling out just twenty yards away from him, he dropped the 'weapon', ran for the metal fence and tried to climb over.

With his life on the line, it still wasn't as easy as it looked, especially with him being soaked to the bone. He released an angry cry to give him that extra adrenaline, extra strength and determination to get himself over. He felt scores of hands grabbing his ankle as he got to the top of the fence, and the panic of being bit or scratched allowed Jack to release a cry and then he simply fell to the other side. He fell and hit the dirt with a painful thump, his shoulder taking most of the impact.

He was sore, but fuck it, he had made it.

Desperate arms filtered through the fence, aching to tear at his flesh. Now on the other side of the fence in the farmers field, Jack didn't waste any time and began to jog away from the back of the sports centre with his heavy, soaked clothes on his back, and further onto the farmers field, to the disgust of his admirers.

He could see four figures in the far distance as they entered the woods, but he knew it would be fruitless to shout or run after them. Pickle, Karen, Paul and Jade were too far away. It was his own fault, but now he was on his own, but he was still alive. That was something, at least.

Chapter Fifty Five

The four bodies continued to run, but at a much slower pace now that they were away from danger. They entered the woods, two miles from Stile Cop to the north, and two miles from Hazelslade to the east. The woods were vacant from any life from what they could see, and their run slowly turned to a jog and then a brisk walk. Twenty yards into the woods and still not a word had been spoken, as some of the group were showing signs of tiredness. Pickle was the first to stop walking and took a seat on a tree stump and plonked a bag full of food from the vending machines next to his feet; he was exhausted.

This particular part of the woods wasn't condensed as what they were used to. The trees were in full bloom, but were reasonably spaced out, allowing the survivors to be able to see for many hundreds of yards ahead of them. This pleased Pickle, because it'd give them enough time to make a move if a predator could be seen from far away. Karen stopped, clearly out of breath, and sat on the grass with her legs crossed and her head bowed. A fitter Paul Parker and Jade Greatrix remained panting, but kept on their feet.

Karen felt the back of her dark blue jeans and cursed aloud. She had lost the Browning during the escape. Pickle calmly reminded her that it only had a couple of bullets left anyway, and the chance of coming across a box of ammo for such a gun, especially in the UK, was an impossibility.

"So what now?" Jade asked.

Pickle held his hand up in defeat, while he tried to get his breath back. "Give us a second, Jade."

"We've just escaped those things," Karen butted in, trying to get her breath. "Relax for a bit."

"I can't relax," Jade said tearfully. "I want to go somewhere safe."

"Nowhere is safe," Paul spoke up.

Jade's tears fell freely; she wasn't used to this world like
they
were, she was used to being shielded from it, being cooped up inside. Even though she was with numbers, she felt vulnerable now she was outdoors.

"I'm sorry to be a wee bit blunt, Jade." Pickle ran his fingers through his stubble. "In the last ten days or so, I've been in a prison, on a hill and in a house. It still wasn't safe."

"So what do we do?" she cried.

Paul looked at Jade with sympathy; this was all new to her. She squatted down and lowered her head; her shoulders shuddered with her crying and Paul was quick to comfort her. She cried, "I don't even know where my family are."

"Neither does anyone else," Karen said with coldness in her voice. "There're millions in your position. You're not the only one, you know." Karen looked agitated and emptied her nose onto the grass, sniffed, and looked at Jade for a reaction.

"Relax, Karen," Pickle tried to appease. "She's just a young girl."

"She's older than me!"

"I mean...this is all new to her."

"I don't wanna hear her bitching, that's all. We've all got people we care for. My Gary turned into one of those things as soon as it happened. My dad and my stepsister, Kelly, are stuck somewhere in Glasgow, my mother is…well, God knows where—"

"That's enough," Paul scolded Karen, still comforting a clearly upset Jade.

A silence enveloped the group; each one was nervous, some more than others, and their backs were soaked with perspiration thanks to the unwanted exercise session and the muggy climate. The clouds were dressed in grey, but the day was clammy and made all four irritable.

"I need a wee drink," Pickle announced.

The group all took their sports bags off that were full of contents from the vending machines, and dumped them onto the floor. They had four bags, one each, and the only food and drink that was on offer was fizzy drinks, sports drinks, chocolate bars, crisps and protein bars. It wasn't great, but it'd have to do for now. Out of a bag that was packed by Karen, Pickle took out a bottle of cherry coke, opened the bottle that fizzed everywhere and took a generous gulp, belching quietly with every swig he took.

The group were lost in silence.

Now that they were safe, temporarily, and their adrenaline had begun to subside, they all remained sitting and continued to be silent as Pickle finished off his drink. Karen ate a squished chocolate bar, and Paul and Jade just sat and stared at the grass. For minutes this continued, until a snap of a twig could be heard in the suffocating silence. All four turned their heads correctly in the direction where the noise was coming from. Jade quickly got to her feet and released a gasp.

"Calm down," Pickle said. "It's just the one."

The group glared at the lonesome figure stumbling through the wooded area. It was one of them, and thankfully there didn't seem to be more of them.

"Looks like somebody got lost." Paul Parker looked around on the floor and picked up a rock. It was a large rock, enough to cause penetration if enough forced was used.

The lone Snatcher picked up speed as it clocked the group, even though it was a hundred yards away. It was a mess, they all were, but this particular one's skin was peeling away. Its eyes were sunken in, an ear was missing from the left side of its head and it was so gaunt, its face almost looked like a skull that had been painted a dirty yellow colour. It was hard to fathom what the age of the thing was when it was in human form, although it was definitely a male and dressed in a now dirty suit that would have been a navy blue colour when first put on.

Jade shook with fear; Karen looked at the young fitness instructor with sceptical eyes. Karen knew how Jade felt, but she had to toughen up quickly, because Karen Bradley didn't want any passengers involved. Everyone needed to be able to fight if need be.

Paul stepped forwards with the rock in hand; Karen got to her feet and placed her opened hand on his chest, stopping him from progressing any further.

"What are you doing?" Paul and Pickle asked in unison.

"Give me the rock," she demanded.

Paul looked at Pickle. Pickle shrugged his shoulders.

Without saying a word, Paul handed Karen the rock.

Karen then handed the rock to Jade, who refused to take it.

"Take it!" Karen snapped.

The frightened Jade looked at both men who were now on their feet, and were wondering what the hell Karen Bradley was up to. She reluctantly took the rock off of the twenty-three-year-old former nurse, and shook with fear. Karen then walked towards the infected being with long strides, which in turn excited the thing. As soon as it got close, she swiped its legs from underneath it, making it immediately fall to the floor, face down. Karen placed her hand on the back of its head and knelt on its extended arm, making it impossible for it to get up. She gazed over in Jade's direction. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Jade looked to Paul and Pickle. They stepped back and Pickle nodded in Karen's direction; it was as if they knew what she was trying to do. This was some kind of half-arsed initiation test, but what if Jade failed? Would they leave her to her own devices if they thought that she would be nothing more than a hindrance to the group, a weak link? Jade stepped towards Karen, clutching the rock tightly. Tears rained down her cheeks, but she had already made her mind up that this was something that she couldn't go through with. This world was too much for her, and she cursed the group mentally for breaking into the sports centre. She was doing just fine before they turned up. Bastards!

"Do it!" Karen urged. "It's rotten; you'll find the head is quite soft. It ain't as hard as you think."

Jade looked at the thing that struggled, snarled and gnashed away. She shook her head and dropped the rock onto the floor. She sobbed and Paul consoled her. Karen got up on her feet and walked to the group. The thing began to scramble to its feet, while Karen casually picked up the rock. Paul looked at Pickle as if to say:
What the hell's she doing?
but Pickle shook his head at him, telling him to leave it. He trusted Karen.

The thing managed to get to its feet and slowly trudged its way towards them from ten yards away. Karen sighed and said to Jade, "You're gonna have to toughen up, or you won't last an hour out there." Karen then turned away from Jade who was still being consoled by Paul, then marched forward towards the being and rammed the rock into its forehead. The rock obliterated the front of its skull. It fell to its knees and hit the floor face down, then Karen turned to Jade, wiping two specks of gunk off of her cheek. "Because I'm not gonna be your babysitter."

Pickle sighed, "Okay, let's keep moving."

"Where?" asked Paul.

"I don't know."

"What's that noise?" Jade said.

All individuals stood motionless with their ears pricked up, investigating the noise.

Pickle answered, "Sounds like planes. Come on," he urged his comrades. "I think there's a road further up ahead."

*

Jack Slade looked up to the skies as the two Panavia Tornados screamed and roared above him. A smile emerged on his face, and although the scene that he had just witnessed didn't help him personally, it made him smile when he saw the planes above, because it gave him hope.

Nobody knew what was going on, but surely that was a sign that the whole of the country hadn't been decimated by the virus, unless it was a couple of pilots escaping from an infected base, but Jack tried to convince himself that that wasn't the case. He looked up to the heavens, urging the sun to sneak from behind the clouds so he could get his clothes quickly dried. He shivered as he felt the cold torment him, and although it should have been the last concern in this new world, he was hoping that he would avoid a stinking cold.

Still soaked, a playback of the events from when the outbreak was announced went through his head, which darkened his mood so much that he crashed to the floor and hit the dirt. He broke down and cried; he cried so hard he thought his heart was going to break. He couldn't believe after all he had been through, he had lost his little boy.

He looked ahead of him and could see that the woods where he was heading seemed miles away; it would certainly feel like miles with the wet clothes that he had on.

He staggered through the ploughed field; his steps were lazy and clumsy, the steps of a tired man. His feet scraped their way towards the wooded area and once five minutes had passed, he eventually got there. He looked into the woods and saw that the area was quite open which pleased him, as the chance of a surprise attack would be rare, unless he was attacked while he was asleep.

With it still being the afternoon, he felt exhausted. He had hardly slept in the last twenty-four hours, and had used a lot of energy with the escape. He was tired and could have murdered a drink.

He continued for a while until he decided to stop; ahead he could see a deceased being. He took tentative steps to get nearer to the being, and saw by the side of him, an empty cherry coke bottle.

They were here
.

He laughed at himself. He should have gone with them, but it was too late now. They were probably an hour ahead of him, maybe just half an hour, but they might not even be in the woods anymore.

He walked away for a further minute to escape the stench of the dead body. He sat down and rested his back against the tree trunk and thought that maybe he was better off on his own anyway. He had lost his son and Kerry, possible most of his other family members, and connecting with the group could be a recipe for more heartache once he got to know them, because disaster seemed to be always round the corner.

He had only known Gary for just over a week and felt like he had lost a brother; the group at the village hall seemed pretty solid, until the things overran them. What if he got close to Jade, Karen, Pickle, and got to know Paul even better, then one of them was killed? There seemed to be heartache whatever happened. He was glad the belt had slipped and he had crashed into the swimming pool; he did want to live despite losing everything and everyone. Deep down, something inside of him was urging him to continue to live.

It was only the afternoon, but he needed a sleep. It seemed crazy to do so, but he would rather sleep during the day than through the night, especially if he were to remain in the woods. Looking around in the spaced area, there wasn't even a sign of a bird. Confident that he would be practically sleeping with one eye open anyway and any kind of rustle would probably alert him, he decided to close his eyes, and once he did, he broke down again.

After ten minutes, once his breakdown was over, he tried to control his breathing and lowered his heart rate, while opening his eyes every other second just to make sure. This went on for a few minutes until Jack was eventually swallowed up by tiredness.

One hour later, he woke up, and was ready for his journey, his next adventure. He was alone in the woods; he had no food or water, and wondered if he was going to survive by the end of the week.

Only time would tell.