Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield (14 page)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Karen was taking a walk after her meal at Paul Dickson's house and headed to the barrier at the other end of the camp. She seemed in a melancholic mood and had no idea if she was becoming depressed or not. She had been through a lot, but so had everyone. She placed her hand on her stomach, produced a sad smile, then stopped as she reached the HGV. She knew that Paul was due to be there in an hour or so.

She looked up and could see that Nicholas Burgess, Rick Morgan, and Daniel Badcock were at the barrier, near the Globe Island, only yards from the edge of the town centre. All three men appeared to be bored and only one of them, Rick Morgan, appeared to be carrying a blade of some kind, a baseball bat was carried by the other two. Karen smiled to herself. It had been a while since she had used her machete. It now sat in the corner of her bedroom.

"Two Wasters up ahead!" Nicholas Burgess yelled.

"Okay, okay." Daniel looked annoyed at Nicholas and told him, "Not too loud. Some of the residents, the younger ones especially, might hear you." He turned around to check if anyone was present and clocked Karen straight away. He smiled and waved at her.

She waved back and asked, "Are you gonna get rid of them?"

"I think Nicholas and Rick can take these two." Daniel began to laugh. "
My
treat."

Karen crouched and peeked under the articulated lorry that was stretched across the road. She could just see that the ghouls looked like they were both female, early thirties.

"Well," Daniel looked at Rick and Nicholas. "What are you both waiting for?"

"They'll go eventually," Rick yawned and began to pick his nose.

"Yeah, he's right," Nicholas spoke up.

Karen shook her head at the men and generally thought that Nicholas was still nervous with coming face-to-face with these things and probably had little experience. Rick Morgan, on the other hand, was just being a lazy bastard.

"Jesus!" Daniel snapped. "Do I have to do everything around here? Somebody come with me." He pointed at Nicholas Burgess. "You."

"Why me?" protested Burgess.

"I'm not facing these things one-against-two when I have another two so-called guards doing fuck all. Just because Lee and Sheryl are away, you think you can get away with murder."

"You'll probably find they're probably just scared." Karen spoke up and pointed at Burgess. "Especially that one."

"What the fuck do you know?" Burgess retaliated defensively. "Go back and do some knitting or something." He then burst into hysterics, expecting the other two to join in, but he was on his own. Unlike Nicholas Burgess, Daniel and Rick were aware of what Karen had to go through in order to still be living. Nicholas stopped laughing and cleared his throat, now feeling stupid.

Daniel began to climb down to the other side and beckoned Burgess to follow him. "Come on. I'm not doing this on my own."

"I don't want to."

"Just take Rick with you," Karen shouted up, then nodded in Nicholas' direction. "He's obviously too inexperienced for this."

"Fuck off!" Nicholas yelled at Karen. She was beginning to get on his nerves and her comments were embarrassing him in front of the other two men.

"This is the only way he's going to get experience, Karen," Daniel called back. "We've been mollycoddling him for too long now."

"I've done these things before," Nicholas protested. "I'm not scared."

"It doesn't matter," Rick Morgan sighed. "I'll go with you, Daniel."

"I'll do it," Nicholas huffed. "For fuck's sake." He bent over to tie his shoe lace and placed his bat by his feet. He swapped feet and tied the other one. As he stood up the bat could be seen rolling down the cab. It landed on the other side of the HGV, just missing Karen.

"You did that on purpose." Daniel shook his head at the hapless Burgess.

"No I didn't," Burgess protested. "You saw it yourself. It rolled off."

"Bullshit!"

"Oh, fuck off!"

Karen bent over and picked up the bat. "Honestly. You guys are worse than a bunch of women. She progressed towards the HGV, opened the door, climbed into the cab, and went out of the door at the other side. She jumped onto the tarmac, ignoring Daniel screaming at her to come back.

Both Snatchers were by the side of each other and picked up their pace once they saw the twenty-three-year-old female.

Karen front-kicked the one on the left, forcing it to the floor, giving herself ample time to deal with the one that was still standing.

She smacked the bat round the side of its head with zero hesitation, watched it fall, then brought the bat down one more time, smashing the head and exposing its diseased brain.

As the second one clambered to its feet, Karen brought the blood-stained bat over her head and smacked it three times, predictably smashing its skull in. Dark blood poured out of its head like an oil spill and Nicholas had to look away in disgust.

"Cocksuckers." She emptied her nostrils and looked up to the three stunned men. "Are you just gonna stand there with your dicks in your hands, or do you want me to move them for you as well?"

She threw the bat up at Nicholas, who caught it first time, then suddenly put it by his feet once he realised that the bat, and now his hands, were covered in the Wasters' blood.

Karen Bradley went back through the cab to get to the other side of the barrier and into the camp. She began to walk away from the HGV and heard Daniel call out, "You shouldn't have done that, Karen. Not in your condition."

She stopped walking for a few seconds, was about to say something back to Daniel, but changed her mind. She continued with her walk as all three men glared at the back of her. Nicholas looked at Rick and jokingly said, "I think I'm in love."

"Never mind that." Daniel punched Nicholas on the shoulder, stopping the man from staring at Karen Bradley. "Come and help me shift these bodies."

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Where did you get this from?" asked Bentley.

"I caught it."

A small fire had been made outside, and on a spit was a stripped rabbit that had been caught earlier by one of her many traps that was situated around the area.

She took a look at the meat and announced, "It's nearly done."

Bentley had already downed half a litre of water from the young girl, but refrained from asking for more.

She appeared to be strangely relaxed in his company. Her bow was by her side, and her bag of supplies sat on the other side of her as she continued to sit cross-legged.

Bentley had to ask, "Can I ask you a question?"

The young girl never answered. With her gorgeous blue eyes she gazed at her feet and seemed to have drifted to another world.

Bentley added, "Well, actually there's a few I need to ask."

She snapped out of her trance and began adjusting the elastic band that was keeping her blonde hair in a ponytail. "Go on."

"Why did you kill those things when I was stuck in the cabin? And how? I mean...there were loads of them."

"I was washing myself in the stream, and I saw the dead banging on the cabin. I knew somebody was inside it. I was only in the woods for minutes, after leaving the sports centre, and I saw them. I picked some of them off with my bow. I retrieved most of my arrows once I was finished, but I think I left one behind. I managed to get rid of the rest with my crowbar. It was a bit dark, but I managed."

"I nearly shat myself," laughed Bentley. "But...thank you."

"That's okay. It was the right thing to do, the Christian thing to do. I couldn't walk away, knowing that there was somebody stuck in the cabin. My conscience wouldn't allow me to walk away."

"Well, thank you again." Bentley smiled thinly and nodded with his head, almost bowing to the teenager.

"And again....that's okay."

"Why didn't you come and see me afterwards?" Bentley had to ask. "Or even approach the cabin after to tell me that it was safe to come out?"

"I was going to...in the morning, but you came out on your own accord, eventually. I didn't think you'd need my help after that, but obviously I was wrong."

Something else was bothering Bentley and had to ask while scratching at his dark hair, "Why invite me for dinner? I'm a grown man and you're a young girl. There's a lot of bad people out there, even more so now this disaster has taken place."

"I'm a good judge of character." The girl gave him a sweet smile and added, "Besides, I've saved your life three times now. It would take a man with a heart of stone to attack me after that."

"Three times?" Bentley looked confused.

"I removed those things from outside the cabin. I shot that beast when you were drinking from the stream, and I'm guessing you were probably another day away from dying of dehydration."

"Fuck, you're right." Bentley quickly placed his hand over his mouth. "Sorry about the language."

"Don't worry about it."

"So what's your story? How did you end up with a bow, and being pretty damn good at using it too? And where're your parents?"

"You ask a lot of questions. I'd rather not talk about the past."

"Okay. I'm sorry. Where're you staying?"

"Everywhere." She gave him a short answer, her face telling him that he was prying too much, and Bentley took the hint.

Bentley looked at his watch. "We've got five or six hours of daylight left. I hope my friends aren't doing anything stupid, like looking for me."

The young girl never responded to his rambling and took the rabbit off the spit, ready to carve it up. She uncrossed her legs and stretched them out, now beginning to carve up their feast with a knife she had taken out of her bag.

Bentley and the young girl tucked into the rabbit and washed it down with tepid water. It wasn't enough to fill the large muscular man, but he was thankful for something. It crossed his mind about asking the girl if he could tag along with her until he was on the road back to the camp, but he refrained from doing so. She seemed the kind of individual that had been out on her own for weeks, and probably preferred it that way. He then wondered how good it would be to have someone like this on the camp. Yes, she was young; but she had survived so far and seemed a tough individual both mentally and physically.

He watched as the girl finished her meal and licked each finger before wiping her hands on her trousers. She looked like she was still hungry, but never complained.

She then put the crowbar into the bag, threw it over her shoulder, grabbed her longbow, and stood up.

"Leaving already?" Bentley looked displeased that his company had decided to leave him alone so soon.

"I need to find a place to sleep." She pointed at the fire. "Kick some dirt over that before you go."

"Will do," Bentley mockingly saluted her and added with a more serious tone, "Thanks for everything. And for saving my skin...
three
times."

She giggled, "No worries."

Bentley was surprised that she never asked about him and how he had coped so far. It was bizarre. It was as if she didn't care. Maybe she didn't.

He stood up and shook her hand. "If you ever head into Rugeley, and come near a barrier at Sandy Lane, ask for me. Hopefully I'll be back by then."

"Will do." She walked away and gave Bentley a wave before turning back round to face the way she was walking.

"Hang on!" Bentley called out.

She turned around and enquired, "What is it?"

"I don't know your name."

"I know you don't." She smiled and continued to walk away from Bentley Drummle.

Chapter Thirty

For a whole hour Karen had laughed and cried as she sat on her couch, thinking of what her life used to be like back in the old world. She smiled as she remembered how she used to reprimand some of the doctors and consultants for not doing the basics, like washing their hands after and before they had seen to a patient.

The looks they used to give her were priceless.
How dare this grade D Staff Nurse tell us what to do!
Deep down they knew she had a point, and whenever she lambasted them for their forgetfulness—or was it arrogance?—for not adhering to the basics of healthcare, some of their faces flushed red, whilst others would storm off, embarrassed and angry.

Her sadness arrived when she thought about other people in her workplace. It was rare that she did this. Most of her thoughts were usually about her family, Gary especially, and Shaz.

She was an emotional mess, something that she should be used to by now, and needed to get out...again. She needed to talk to someone.

She missed Pickle.

She left the house and decided to go to Rosemary's for a chat. It was late afternoon, so she was sure that her classes with Lisa and Kyle would be finished by now. She knocked on the door and waited for it to be answered.

She waited for a few more seconds, turned around and greeted a man from the old camp, Geoff, as he walked back. He looked crestfallen. He was still plagued by the deaths of May Worthington and Gina Harrison, who died in a fire when the Snatchers stormed Vince's camp. It was Geoff's gun-blast that hit a canister and caused the fire in the first place.

She knocked again and this time the bedroom window opened, with Rosemary half-dressed. "What is it? she snapped uncharacteristically. "Sorry, Karen." She apologised immediately and tried to explain, "I'm trying to get a nap."

"Hurry up!" The voice of a man, that Karen didn't recognise, came from the same room and Rosemary dropped her head. Caught!

"It's okay." Karen walked away and decided to try Paul Dickson again. "I understand."

"Karen!" Rosemary called after her.

"It's alright. I won't say anything to Vince."

She heard the window slam behind her and once she reached Paul's door, she hesitated. She had seen a lot of him in the last couple of days, and she didn't want to be a pest. Before she had chance to knock on the door, she heard a voice behind her.

"They're out." It was Kirk Sheen. Kirk was a guy who used stay in Vince's camp, but Karen hardly knew him. "They should be back soon, because Paul is due at the barrier near the Globe Island."

"Okay." She smiled. "And how are you?"

He never answered and walked away, which Karen thought was bizarre, as well as rude, behaviour.

She tried to shrug it off and left Paul Dickson's front garden, went out of the gate and cut through Hill Street. She could hear a male voice, followed by the giggling from children. She turned a corner and could see Paul Dickson standing in the middle of a cul-de-sac street, playing Piggy in the Middle with Lisa and Kyle with a tennis ball. Paul was in the middle, pretending that he couldn't catch the ball whenever Kyle or Lisa threw it, and his comical playing about was forcing the kids into hysterics.

It was the first time she had heard the laughter of children in weeks and it brought a lump to her throat. Paul seemed like a good man, a good father, and was probably a good husband. He didn't deserve the heartache he had to endure, but neither did most people. Karen didn't want to interrupt their fun so she turned and walked away before she was spotted, heading back to the house that was given to her and Pickle.

As soon as she got inside, she kicked off her trainers and trudged upstairs with tired legs. She went into the bedroom and groaned as she collapsed on the bed. She felt a little tired, but she was bored and lonely more than anything. She knew that if she fell asleep now she'd be awake by the early hours of the morning. She grew concerned for her friend, Pickle. There was still plenty of hours of daylight left, but waiting for his return was dragging.

She lay on her side and curled herself up, now closing her eyes.

Maybe if she slept for a few hours, he'd be there when she woke up.

She laughed to herself. When he was here he was stifling and occasionally got on her nerves, but now he was away she missed him terribly. She couldn't win.

She curled up even tighter and wrapped her arms around herself as some kind of comfort. She then stretched out the soles of her feet and moaned because they were sore, and a little cramp was beginning to kick in on the left foot.

Her feet felt the same way when she used to come off the nightshift from the hospital. She could have murdered a foot-rub. She had asked Pickle to give her one once, back at Vince's camp, but he was hopeless, too rough. She joked that it was like getting a massage from a bear. He called her an ungrateful tart and vowed never to give her another one.

Paul Dickson would be good with his hands, she thought. Maybe even Daniel Badcock.

She sighed and said, "Oh Pickle. I hope you're okay." She then smiled. "And you...Vince."

Twenty minutes later, she had fallen asleep.