Snatchers (Book 9): The Dead Don't Scream (11 page)

Chapter Twenty Two

Despite the wardrobe blocking the stairs, staying in the house appeared to be a hopeless idea. They were in. The dead were in. And Pickle gazed from the top of the stairs to see them behind the furniture, desperate to crawl up and get at them.

This scene reminded him of Heath Hayes. But at least back then he had his Browning shotgun. Yes, it was loud, but it removed a few.

They may not be able to get at them, but if they multiplied in numbers and refused to leave, they could starve the group. Pickle didn't want to let that happen. He needed to act.

"Right. That's final." He turned and looked at Karen, Sheryl and Vince who were all on the landing, peering down the stairs from behind him. "We can't stay here. We need to leave."

"About fucking time," Sheryl huffed. "If you listened to me earlier—"

"Leave?" Vince looked flabbergasted, interrupting Sheryl's rant. "What about Lisa and Rosemary?"

"Vince, there's over a hundred people here," said Pickle. "Most have probably fled on foot, including Rosemary, probably. Others are probably hiding. If we stay in here, we're gonna die."

"We can't just leave them. Would you leave Karen?"

Pickle sighed, "I don't really want to be hanging around to explain, but if we can leave in the pickup, we can come back in the morning once the dead have dispersed, and see if they're still here."

"That's if the pickup is still there," moaned Sheryl. "With all the time we've been wasting..."

Pickle flashed Sheryl an evil glare. "If it's not, then we try another house."

Sheryl said, "When we get the pickup, we could thrash the vehicle when we're at the Globe Island or sound the horn. Maybe that'll drive them out of Sandy Lane, towards us."

"Nice idea." Pickle wasn't convinced. "But if we do that, then we might attract more from the town, and from Elmore Lane and Horsefair. It could backfire and we could end up becoming surrounding by the Snatchers."

Karen nodded in agreement. "Let them disperse naturally. I don't wanna die tonight."

"If they weren't penetrating the houses, then I'd stay where I am. But there's gonna be dozens on the ground floor soon. If we leave later ... all the gardens and the other streets will be swarming. If we don't go now, we can't help the survivors later on, because we'll be fucking dead."

Vince lowered his head and released a long, slow breath out, lost in contemplation. "Fuck it!" Vince exclaimed. "Just go. The girls will be fine. I'm sure of it."

"That's the spirit." Pickle made sure his machete was still in his belt.

"We've wasted enough time," Sheryl spoke up.

"Agreed," said Karen.

Pickle led the way, into the back bedroom. He looked out and could see six ghouls at the bottom of the garden. All had their backs to the house. If he waited any longer, there'd be more.

He warned the group what was waiting for them and opened the window. He was going to be the first to set foot on the lawn. He managed to stand on the windowsill, a soft breeze tickled his face, and he reached for the drainpipe. He then slid down slowly, trying to be silent. He was as quiet as he could be, trying not to disturb the dead that were now at the end of the garden, and waited at the bottom as Vince made his way down. Sheryl was next, and by this time, as Sheryl was making her way down, one of the ghouls turned and clocked their presence. It staggered over towards them, and its five other colleagues quickly followed when they realised food was available.

Pickle had his arms behind his head, holding his machete. He brought it down as the first one got near and the blade went straight down the middle, down to the bridge of its nose. It fell, and he pulled out the blade from the skull as Sheryl reached the floor.

Pickle looked up at Karen. She was the last one.

She was standing on the bedroom's windowsill, leaning over with her hands on the pipe, ready to make the trip down, but Pickle told her to stay where she was. Then he, Vince and Sheryl marched towards the five dead. Blades at the ready.

Karen watched as Sheryl, Pickle, and Vince slaughtered the dead with ease. She began to climb down once Pickle had almost took the head off his second victim, and when it fell to the floor, he plunged the blade through the skull.

"O'er the wall," Pickle commanded, and was the first person to climb over.

Pickle was now on top of the wall and peered along Cross Road. He could see a few Snatchers filtering in from Hill Street and could see the pickup on the right.
Thank Fuck. It's still there.
He urged them all to climb over as quickly as they could, before more of the dead turned up, and was the first to climb over. The rest followed suit, and Karen was the last to get over. Pickle ran as fast as his legs would carry him, over to the pickup, and feared that the vehicle could be locked. The pickup was never locked, normally, and the keys were usually kept in the glove compartment because even if a resident wanted to steal the vehicle, they weren't going to get far with a HGV at either end of Sandy Lane.

Two of the dead were near the pickup and Pickle removed them before Vince, Sheryl or Karen could reach them. Before getting in, he told the rest to hurry, and when they were near he tried the door and was relieved it was unlocked. All four then  tried to squeeze in the three-seated vehicle. He pulled away and turned right at the junction, onto Burnthill Lane, avoiding the congested Sandy Lane.

"Where now?" Karen asked Pickle. Her heart was in her mouth and she shook with panic.

"We're leaving where the barrier used to be at Globe Island." Pickle then wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. "Let's hope the entrance isn't too congested. If it is, I'll try and reverse back."

"I wonder who took the lorry," Vince spoke up.

Nobody could give him an answer.

Sheryl looked behind as they were near the end of Burnthill Lane and could see, in the distance, many of the dead, most were around the steel railings of the high school. Had they seen something of interest? She just hoped the other end of Burnthill Lane wasn't as busy, otherwise they'd be trapped and on foot once more, trying to break into a random house for safe refuge.

The vehicle followed the road around to the right, and they could see the junction and a part of Sandy Lane that went across. There were a few there, and there was also a vehicle that looked smashed and bloody on the inside.

Somebody had tried to escape and paid the price, Sheryl thought. But who? Who was it? Was it Lee?

"Hold on." Pickle thrashed the engine and the pickup darted out of the junction, hitting numerous bodies as it swerved left and headed for the Globe Island, wheels squealing. More bodies were hit by the pickup, but there wasn't as many trying to get into the place than before. If Pickle had tried this fifteen minutes earlier, they would have ran into trouble, like the smashed and bloody vehicle that they had just passed did, when it crashed into a crowd of the things.

"Where to now?" Karen asked Pickle.

He didn't have a clue. With all the panic and excitement, he couldn't think straight. They were out of Sandy Lane, and that was all that mattered to Harry Branston.

Karen persisted, "Market Hall car park?"

"No." Pickle shook his head and the vehicle went down Elmore Lane, passing the bus station and the park. "There's only one way in and out o' that place. If they come up for us, we'll be trapped. Besides, that's where all the bodies are from our camp. Trust me, it stinks."

"Then where?"

"I don't know, Karen. For fuck's sake. Give ma ears a rest, will yer?"

"A few up ahead," announced Sheryl. They could all see five in the distance, near the Chancel Primary School.

"Just drive to Power Station Road," said Vince. "It's always been pretty clear. Even when I was doing runs in the second or third week down there, it wasn't too bad. We can get some respite, and then hang about until we get some daylight. Then go back, hope it's cleared and search for survivors."

"Sounds like a plan," said Karen.

"It's the best that I've got."

"Okay." Pickle nodded. "I'm happy with that."

The truck went by the primary school and they could see St Augustine's Church on their right. Vince had been in this area only a week ago when he was with Stephanie. He wondered how she was. She was staying with Lisa and Rosemary. Vince could only pray that the house hadn't been broken into, like some he had seen, and all three were okay. He would soon find out as soon as it was light enough to go back. But for now, all he could do was wait at Power Station Road and try and get some rest, if that was possible.

The vehicle made the descent down the main road, going over the bridge where the canal ran underneath, and turned right at a mini-roundabout. They were now on the road, and all four breathed out a sigh to see that the industrial estate was clear.

Pickle began to slow the truck down. "All we can do now is wait."

Chapter Twenty Three

Elza and Ophelia lay on the church stage, trying to get back to sleep after witnessing the carnage at Sandy Lane. It was proving difficult.

Elza guessed that it was sabotage that had caused it, and wondered if the person or persons responsible were still around. On their return, a table from the room on the right of the stage had been taken out by Elza, the four legs removed. The table itself had been slotted through the two oval shaped metal handles of the church door, as added insurance, to keep the dead and the living out whilst they rested.

Elza sat up and glared in the darkness. She couldn't get the burning tanker out of her mind. The thing practically lit up most of the lane, and she was sure that it could have been seen from miles away. No wonder there were so many of the dead.

For days, Elza and Ophelia had walked the streets of the estate with only a few misdemeanours, but the raging fire proved that the dead were still healthy in numbers in this town.

She looked to the side of her and could hear Ophelia lightly snoring. She had managed to drop off.

Elza took a bottle from her bag, that she was using as a cushion, had a swig of water, then tried to nod off once more. Wearing her grey cardigan, she curled up into a ball and placed the side of her head on the bag. Her mind was racing, and even though she hardly gave herself a minute to relax, she sat back up, knowing she was too buzzed up to be falling asleep. She wondered what would happen after the dust had settled back at the camp, once the fire had died. Then what?

The dead would then disperse, she thought. They would spread out through the town, and this could lead to more arriving on the estate.

She had no idea who was responsible for this, but it was obviously done intentionally, and their little revenge attack had not only destroyed a place that was trying to get a new community going, but had put the rest of the surviving residents of Rugeley, outside of Sandy Lane, in danger.

Elza Crowe wasn't bothered about anyone but herself and Ophelia, but she did wonder why an act like this had been done. What had this camp done to deserve this kind of treatment? It was baffling.

Now wide awake, she stood to her feet and decided to go to the room on the left where they had killed some cub scouts a few days ago. It still stunk in there, but it was where the mirror was and she decided to brush her teeth again with the worn toothbrush, with the help of the water from her bottle. She looked in the mirror once she was finished and tried to inspect her teeth, despite the duskiness. She wasn't so bothered about keeping them clean anymore, she just didn't want them to be completely neglected and having to endure unnecessary pain.

Whilst inspecting her teeth, she heard a thud coming from the fire exit.

Scowling, she looked at the door, then removed herself from the room to go back into the main area. She picked up her bat and grabbed it with both hands. She went back inside the room and was now heading for the fire exit door. She gave it a gentle push, unaware what could be outside, and peered out.

It was dark, but she could see one ghoul.

Just the one.

It was shuffling on the grass, near the wiry fence that separated the church grounds and the area where the now defunct youth centre was.

She opened the door to its fullest, quietly, so it wouldn't shut on itself, and approached the beast with vigilance.

After smashing the dead being's brains in, she wiped her bat on the grass—not that that would make any difference to its appearance. The bat was already covered in chips and dried-in blood from the weeks of violence she had to endure, but she did it anyway.

*

Bentley, Stephanie and Paul went through the reception area of the school, after breaking the main door through, and climbed the stairs to the first floor.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Stephanie whispered to Bentley who was leading the way, with Paul behind him. Stephanie was the last in line.

"There were a few dead kids in here." Bentley decided to be brutally honest with the young girl. "But me and a few others cleared it out a couple of weeks ago." Bentley didn't bother going into the whole story about the school; he couldn't be bothered.

"So what's the plan?" asked Paul Dickson. He looked like he was in shock.

Bentley hunched his shoulders. "We'll find a classroom and wait it out till the morning."

"It might not clear up by then," Stephanie warned the pair of them. "We might not be able to go back to Sandy Lane."

"True." Bentley nodded. "But at least we'll be able to see where we're going by the morning, if we need to go elsewhere. It'll be less dangerous for us all. This school has farmlands to the left of it. We can get across there to find supplies. We don't necessarily have to go to the Pear Tree Estate. We could go to Horns pond, near where the pub is."

"I thought you weren't from around here?" Stephanie tried to make light of the situation.

Bentley responded with a serious manner. "I'm not, but I know where the Horns pub is. I went there a few times for a meal."

"We better find something."

"Agreed." Bentley nodded. "My stomach's rumbling as it is, and neither of us have any water. We'll need to leave the moment we wake up."

"So now what?"

"We try and get some sleep," said Bentley.

"After what has just happened?" Stephanie couldn't believe what Bentley was saying. "Rosemary and Lisa are dead, and I'm guessing that many more are as well."

"I know." Bentley sighed, "I did say
try
and get some sleep." He peered through the glass of the door of one of the classrooms and could see it was empty. He opened it and pointed inside. "Here will do."