Snatchers: Volume One (The Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set--Books 1-3) (65 page)

Chapter Seven

All four waved their arms frantically at the pick-up truck that was getting nearer, and all looked at one another and smiled once they saw it was slowing down. They needed information on the town they were about to enter.

The vehicle pulled up alongside the group and they were greeted by a middle-aged couple. A man popped his head out of the window and said, "Don't go to Rugeley Town."

Paul Parker asked, "Why not?"

Beside the middle-aged man sat a woman about the same age. Both individuals were very heavy and the woman added, "It's mental in there. Houses are on fire, people are beating up one another for food, and those...monsters are everywhere."

"A lot of people are leaving now," the man continued. "It's alright the radios telling us to stay barricaded in our houses, but why? There's no one coming to help us and we haven't eaten properly in two days," he patted his large belly, "believe it or not."

Pickle went into his rucksack and pulled out a few mars bars. They were a bit melted, but still edible. "Yer can have these if yer give us a ride somewhere. I've got some water as well."

"It's okay." The man's eyes were full of kindness. "We have a few things in the back for when we're
really
desperate, but we'll give you a lift anyway. You seem like nice people. Where do you wanna go?"

"Well, now the town is out o' bounds, we have no idea." Pickle looked at his group then turned back to the driver of the truck. "Where are
you
two going?"

"We're not entirely sure." The man then gaped over to his wife; they both smiled and held hands briefly. "We really want to go to Skelmersdale, to see our only son."

"That's miles away," Karen spoke, the negativity in her tone almost diluting the excitement of the couple's dream.

"I know." The man nodded, and even
his
face suggested that Skelmersdale would be a risky mission that could end in abject failure, costing their lives. "Our son's there. He said that his village is safe and has been cordoned off by the villagers themselves. If we arrive, he promises that they'll take us in."

"Well," Pickle began. "At least yer got hope. We've been runnin' round in circles for the last couple o' weeks and still have no idea where to go and what to do."

The woman said, "We just want to go somewhere where it's safe, where there's some kind of order. We heard about a place in Armitage, but we want to be with our son."

The man added sadly, "In our street, bandits broke into the end house, looted the place and then set fire to it. "

Karen shook her head in exasperation. "Why would people do that? What's the point in that?"

The man looked down at his chest, sadly. He was appalled the way some individuals were behaving after just weeks of this mess. "There
is
no point."

"Anyway." Pickle clapped his hands together and looked at his three companions, then back to the male driver of the truck. "We appreciate the lift." Pickle then urged his three friends to jump in the back of the truck. He was surprised that the back of the pick-up truck was reasonably empty. There wasn't much food; there was a few bottles of juice and carrier bags of tins, and that was it. There were no clothing or anything else.

Once the group were in the back, Pickle told everyone to sit down in case there was a danger of falling out.

Karen was initially unsure of going back to her hometown, but now felt a little disappointed that she was only a quarter of mile away from Rugeley, and now it appeared that she was definitely not going back. It would have been interesting to see how the old place had managed to cope over the last couple of weeks. She then thought about her old house. If she somehow got back into her own place, if the street was safe enough, there was still the problem of removing the fiend that was once her fiancée, Gary. If he was still trapped in the house, it would have been an awful sight to see how he had decomposed over the few weeks that had passed, and the smell...

Maybe it was just as well that Rugeley was now a no-go area. Wasn't all populated areas? It was only a town of thousands and she wondered how the likes of Cardiff, Edinburgh, Birmingham and London were coping with this nightmare. It was only a few months ago that Gary and Karen had stayed in Edinburgh for the weekend, at a place in Cockburn Street, just yards away from the Royal Mile. Karen managed a small smirk when she remembered that Gary had joked that 'Cockburn' sounded like an STD.

She snapped out of her emotional daydream as the vehicle started to move and her body jolted forward, along with the rest of the group. The truck continued to move and the group could see down the road, in the distance, more vehicles leaving the town, but going straight along the Hednesford Road, rather than turning left onto Stile Cop Road where
they
were.

The vehicles were probably heading to other towns like Hednesford and Cannock, Karen thought.

As they passed the Stile Cop beauty spot for the second time, the truck went straight across the crossroads where Karen had met Pickle and KP during that terrible, early morning when they escaped the ghouls that appeared through the woods in their hundreds at the beauty spot.

It appeared that the middle-aged couple were heading for Upper Longdon.

It was a place that was very exclusive and had a few mansions in the area. Karen knew the couple would eventually be heading for the M6, and had no idea where Pickle was thinking about getting off, so she asked him. "Do you have any idea where to go?"

"I haven't a Scooby," Pickle admitted. "But I want away from these woods. I'll be glad if I don't see another tree again."

Karen chuckled and placed her arm around the ex-inmate, while Paul and Jade sat silently, staring at their shoes, exhausted.

"There're a few mansions around here." Karen looked at Pickle for a reaction.

"And?" Pickle stared at Karen. "A mansion is fine and dandy, but it also makes yer a target for bandits and looters. And what happens if yer break into the place and it's already inhabited? I don't wanna get shot, Karen. The emergency services are now defunct, and I don't want to be walking around for the rest o' ma days with a severe limp."

"Like Jason Bonser?" she teased.

"Yeah, well." Pickle shifted his bum to get comfortable. "That fucker deserved everything he got."

Another two minutes had passed as they went through more country lanes. It appeared that they were coming to the end of Cannock Chase, which meant that the nearest place was a town. Pickle had been told by the male driver that once the group found a place or an area where they wanted dropping off, he should hit the roof a couple of times to let the driver know when to stop the truck.

"Uh-huh." Paul Parker's announcement forced them to look at what
he
was looking at.

Jade couldn't really see properly and asked Paul, "What is it?"

Paul peeked at Karen and Pickle, then he turned to Jade. "Keep your head down. I think there may be trouble ahead."

Jade placed her hands on her head and cursed under her breath, "Now what?"

The pick-up truck that they were in, was beginning to slow down.

Chapter Eight

Once the two things in the canteen had been killed, Jack Slade had returned to the factory floor with a shocked Johnny in tow, who walked behind him, dragging his feet. Jack placed the crowbar on top of a pallet, removed the safety goggles off of his head and asked Johnny, "Whose is that vehicle outside?"

Johnny, still trying to shake off the image of Jack pulverising the heads of those things, snapped out of his self-hypnosis and gawped at Jack, blankly. "Sorry, what?"

Jack continued, "The canteen's window looks out onto the staff car park. There's a few cars outside, and I noticed that there's a black jeep."

"The cars belonged to the guys I worked with. I can't drive myself; I came here with Terry."

Jack turned to Johnny. "Who's Terry?"

"The first guy you smashed up in the canteen."

Jack looked confused. When he stormed into the canteen he swung the crowbar so much he pretty much put them both down almost at the same time. "Was that the one whose skull fell away."

"No." Johnny gulped and shook his head at the surreal conversation that he was having. He swallowed hard, trying to keep down whatever was left in his stomach. "That was Martin. Terry was the one that collapsed into the wall."

"Did he have a beard?"

Johnny nodded.

"Well," Jack exhaled hard, "if I was you, I would have stolen one of their car keys and driven out of the place ages ago."

"Well, like I've told you before," Johnny sighed, exasperated that he wasn't being listened to. "I can't drive, and I wanted to stay in here anyway 'cos it's safer."

"Anyway. The black jeep. Whose is it?" It was clear by his face that Jack had no interest in what Johnny had to say, and after witnessing Jack putting those things down, Johnny refrained from moaning about his rudeness.

"The supervisor's car," Johnny finally answered.

"And where's he?"

"Boardroom. He's one of them. He locked himself in as soon as he was bit. It was almost as if he knew."

Jack checked his clothes and inspected his old rags. He could see they had fresh blood on them, to add to the old dried-in ones from the last couple of days. Most of the bloodstains were mainly from the episode when he was trying to escape the sports centre, swinging the kettle bell as if his life depended on it, which, of course, it did.

He finally took his boots off and removed his clothes. Once he threw the rags into a pallet, the same pallet he had disposed his shoes, he put on the boiler suit and then put the steel toecaps back on.

"We'll see what there is in these vending machines." Jack began to scratch at his hairy neck and groaned. He badly needed a shave, on his neck
and
his face. "I'm guessing that we'll be lucky if the food lasts us a week."

"What about Martin and Terry?"

"Who?"

Johnny sighed.
Are you not listening to me at all?
"The men you killed in the canteen."

"I don't think they'll be eating anything," Jack commented, without cracking his face.

Johnny glared at this strange man and wondered if he was serious or not. Trying to ignore his early remark, he said, "Are we just gonna leave them in there? That's what I mean."

Jack nodded. "Yes, we are."

"What if you're right about the food that's left?"

"I
am
right." Jack seemed confident in what he was saying. "Look, you're not gonna like this, but we need to be out of here, soon."

Johnny nodded in agreement, reluctantly. He knew Jack was right. "And go where?"

"Somewhere where there's food. Somewhere safe...ish."

"I suppose it removes some problems now that you're here, someone that can drive. We can now get a set of wheels from the car park."

Added Jack, "But it also opens up other problems, like being carjacked. Me and a few other guys went into a supermarket to get food and only two of us made it out. It's not just those
things
that are a danger; there's some bad, desperate people roaming around."

Johnny's eyes widened and didn't want any more details about the short story that Jack had just announced. "Look, my place is about eight miles away. I'm already stocked up."

"Eight miles? That's too far. We'll never make eight miles without running into hordes, bandits—even getting a puncture puts us at risk."

"When are you thinking about going?"

"I think we should gather what food is left and then go in the morning."

Johnny's eyes widened with surprise at Jack's announcement. "Seriously? That soon? I've managed alright so far."

"True, but now the food's short. We can either stay in here and go until the food has gone, then go on the road while we're hungry. Or—"

"Go on the road
with
food."

Jack gave Johnny a mocking wink as if to say;
You're catching on, buddy
. "We're gonna have to do it sooner or later."

Johnny smiled, but Jack could see the sadness in his face. Jack got to his feet, still with the safety goggles attached to his head, and walked away from Johnny and picked up the bloody crowbar lying on one of the pallets.

"Where're you going now?" Johnny called out.

"I'm off to get a set of car keys for later."

"Try the trousers of one of the guys in the canteen."

"Nah; I want the jeep. I'm off to the first floor, boardroom." Jack then stopped and picked some corrugated cardboard, ripped a piece off, and tucked it down the front of his overalls like a bib. He could see that Johnny was giving him a look as if he had lost his mind. Jack laughed and then explained, "Don't wanna be messing up my new overalls so soon."

*

Jack got to the first floor and the first thing he clocked was the supervisor, whose name he didn't know. Through the blood-smeared boardroom window, he looked at the thing inside. It was just what Jack expected; it was rotten, diseased and...dead!

Jack sauntered over to one of the windows that looked out onto the car park. He really wanted that jeep. From a safety purpose, this vehicle was the best option compared to the rest of the cars that sat on the car park.

Then he saw it!

There were two of the things loitering around the main gates to the factory. "Shit!"

Jack knew that where there was one, or in this case, two, more could follow. He didn't want to wake up in a few days to be surrounded, but he also didn't want to leave now and drive off into the early evening. It was hours away from becoming dark and he knew it would be suicide to go now. He decided not to release this information to an already-nervous Johnny, as he thought it might keep Johnny inside due to fear.

He turned around to gawp at the thing in the boardroom once again, and clenched the crowbar in his other hand.

He prised open the door, adjusted his goggles and walked in. He shut the door behind him, and now it was just him and the contaminated supervisor in the room. Jack snarled at the ghoul that was ten yards away from him.

Man, he fucking hated these things.

He grabbed the goggles that still sat on top of his head, and as the excited ghoul stumbled towards Jack Slade, he put the goggles over his eyes and walked forwards, away from a desk and a screen that was probably used for power-point presentations.

With no hesitation from Slade, the crowbar came crashing down; blow after blow was used, until there was nothing left of the head. Twelve strikes had managed to decimate the creature, and there wasn't much left from the neck up.

Ignoring the debris scattered all around the office's walls and carpet, Jack took the car keys from its pocket and placed them in his own. He glared at the headless corpse and spat at it before walking away. He left the boardroom, removed his 'bib' from the overalls and glared outside once again.

His eyes looked lost, gone.

The old Jack had been replaced with something a lot more sinister, fearless even. Some who had known him for years may have come to the conclusion that he had now lost his mind. Had the new world finally made something snap inside his head? Had he past caring? He was still trying to live, so that was something, wasn't it?

Jack puffed out his cheeks, then went back downstairs. If they didn't leave in the morning, in a few days the whole factory was going to be surrounded sooner or later. And if that happened, if escape was an impossibility, the only thing they would have to look forward to would be dehydration and starvation.