Kasper shook his head and revealed a wide beam, and pointed at the back of the van. "He's lying. They're
both
lying. They must have me mixed up with someone else."
Pickle looked over to Karen, and then turned back to Kasper. "From now on, yer on foot."
"What? You gonna fuckin' leave me here like a dog?" The anger in Kasper's voice suggested that he was definitely someone they shouldn't underestimate, like Jason Bonser. He snarled and stepped towards Pickle with both fists clenched.
"Back away!" With no hesitation, Karen was five yards away and raised the gun at Kasper's head, which caused him to look at her and break out into hilarity. He held onto his chest with both hands and begun to laugh uncontrollably. Karen waited for his hilarity to diminish and narrowed her eyes at the obnoxious individual.
He was surprised that any of the group had a weapon at all, and here was some young slag pointing a hand cannon at him. The infection itself had caused the world to become a bubble of surrealism, but a young lady, young enough to be his daughter, aiming a Browning in his face was too much for him to contain, causing his laughing to increase.
Okay, so they're gonna force me to go back into the woods. Fine. I'll go. Fucking idiots. Don't need their help anyway
.
Kasper waved away at Karen, mockingly. He eventually stood up straight and was managing to contain himself. He opened his mouth to speak. "Look, sugar—"
The audible sound made Paul, Lee and Jack jump—not Oliver—as they sat in the back of the van. The body of Kasper Andrews fell backward as the bullet penetrated the brain, causing some matter to escape from the back. The body hit the tarmac with a deathly thump and Kasper Andrews lay motionless. His legs were apart; his arms were by his side as if he was just having a regular lie down. The only thing that made this image terrifying, was the pool of blood that was quickly gathering from the back of his head and pooling around the cranium.
The gun remained in its position, shaking a little, to Karen's embarrassment. Killing those things was fine, but a human was a different ball game altogether, even if he was the scum of the earth. This had been the first time she had killed a human being. She then lowered the gun to enhance her peripheral vision, and before a shocked Pickle could ask what the hell was she thinking, they could see the first group of Snatchers hobbling around the bend.
"Cocksuckers at twelve o'clock," Karen announced.
It seemed that the army of the dead was never going to let up, and what unnerved the two of them was that they didn't know what was up ahead. It could be clear, or there could be more of them. They could be driving into a potential trap—not that these things had the intelligence to design or plan such a thing, but it still dwelled in the back of their minds that this was a realistic situation that could occur.
Was the van strong enough to run into dozens of the things? The answer was yes.
Was it strong and powerful enough to ram through a crowd of hundreds of them? The answer was, I don't know—probably not—or, no way. It was a negative answer nevertheless.
"Time to Foxtrot-Oscar." Pickle sniffed, and went into the front of the van, and Karen quickly followed. Karen shut the door and gave Thomas a friendly smile before doing so. "We'll be okay."
There were now five of them squashed in the front, with three in the back, and Pickle urged Jack to move along so he could drive. Jack nodded without remonstrating and sat next to Kerry who had Thomas on her lap, and put his arm around her.
Pickle drove away.
Chapter Forty Seven
The van sped off and the wing mirrors that were being stared at by Karen, Kerry and Pickle, suggested that they were already clear from the threat. Karen was sitting nearest the passenger window and glared with pity at Kerry and her young son that sat on her lap and clung onto her for support. She knew that this kind of thing had, and was, happening out there, and even admitted that a lot of young infants had been victims of cannibalism, especially at the height of the outbreak, but it still touched her to see this one frightened boy whose only concern over a week ago was what time his favourite programmes were on and what was for dinner. That had all changed now.
Karen thought about the reason why she hadn't seen as many infected children compared to adults. She put it down to one thing, and that was because children were so small and weak that when they were probably attacked, they were probably eaten so much that there wasn't much left of them to reanimate. In truth, she didn't know the real reason and was beginning to think dark thoughts as her positivity was beginning to dilute.
She sniffed hard and tried to blank her mind so that the tears that had gathered in her eyes wouldn't fall. She cleared her throat in an attempt to remove the muscular reaction that was lodged in there and widened her eyes to stop the eager tear ducts from overproducing. She then thought about Kasper. She couldn't have killed Bonser, but never hesitated with Kasper.
He was a vagrant; a piece of shit…a killer, so fuck him!
"You okay?" Pickle asked her.
She nodded.
"About what just happened."
"I don't wanna talk about it," she sniffed.
Another five minutes of silence had passed, until Kerry Evans shattered it with a question. "What's that?" Kerry asked.
Up ahead, they could see that they were coming to the end of the countryside and were near the next town. They both stared at the jack-knifed articulated lorry up ahead that also had a smashed car behind it, but there didn't seem to be any people about or any casualties strewn across the road in a bloody mess. Pickle turned the van off the main road into a country lane and went down the steep hill. As the road straightened up, they could see a pile-up of at least seven cars blocking the road. There was shattered glass everywhere, and it was clear that Pickle needed to get the van onto the grass to go around the minor carnage, which he did, and as he got back onto the road, the steering felt heavy and was forcing it to go to the left. He stopped accelerating and did the correct thing and allowed the van to roll to a stop.
"What's wrong?" Karen quizzed.
Pickle replied, "We've got a flat."
"No spare tyre?"
Pickle shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose there should be, but there ain't. I don’t remember seeing one in the back."
Kerry began to gently sob and shook with fear; she held on to Thomas tightly and began to whisper a prayer that Pickle recognised.
To the left side of Pickle there was a massive playing field, where some houses sat a few hundred yards away. Up ahead looked to be another town, and to the far right, before the town's "welcome" sign, right on the outskirts, was a fitness centre surrounded by an eight-foot metal black fence with acres of fields behind. Every vertical bar of the fence had a twelve-inch gap between each space so they could see inside the car park, but it was clearly designed to stop intruders from squeezing into the place.
"I used to go there, before I had Thomas," Kerry remarked. "A few years ago now, it was."
Karen looked at Pickle. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Don't think we have much of a choice. We've got a flat; these things could be everywhere and we're yards away from the next town. Towns and cities have populated areas. Populated areas these days, usually means more o' those things."
Karen jumped out the van and emptied her nostrils on the floor, then turned to Pickle. "We can come back for the supplies in the van once we've established it's completely safe."
"Well, it's not. Oh, and by the way," Pickle said calmly. "I suggest yer hurry up."
He pointed up ahead. The van was five hundred yards away from the entrance of the fitness centre, and there were six creatures that could be seen in the distance. They were reasonably far away, but they didn't know how far. It was going to be a race to see who could get to the sports centre's entrance gates first. Although the eight-foot black fence that surrounded the area was a little closer to them than the entrance itself, it looked too difficult and awkward to climb and would only add time to their escape. It was only going to be an option if they couldn't make the entrance gates in time.
Karen noticed that the entrance was a pair of gates, six-foot in height, that had been bolted shut and could be climbed pretty quickly, she confidently thought. The only thing that irked her was that if the gates were electrified, which would make the steel fence that surrounded the centre their only option. She swung the back doors open and yelled to the men in the back, "Out! We've got a flat, and they're coming."
Paul, Lee, and Oliver jumped out and could already see Pickle jogging in front of the van, with Kerry and Thomas waiting for Jack so they could be together as a family. The group ran together, and Pickle slowed his pace in order for the rest to catch up. "We're heading for the entrance gates." He pointed, and then shrugged his shoulders. "There's no where else we can go."
The group could see that the gates led to a large car park that had a few cars situated there. Whether they belonged to customers or employees, they weren't sure, but the most important thing was that there didn't seem to be any of those beings
in
the car park. So even if the fitness centre was securely shut and they struggled to get inside, which was highly likely, they'd still be safe just being on the grounds. But they needed shelter. They needed to drink. And they needed to eat.
Pickle glared ahead of him and saw that the six he had seen previously heading their way, had now turned into thirteen. The distance between the group and the fitness centre, and the ghouls and the fitness centre, was about the same distance. The advantage they had on the dead, was that they were quicker, but the advantage the dead had on the group, was that the road that led to the centre was on a slight incline and the fitness levels amongst the group was assorted.
Lee Hayward was the one that already begun to aerobically struggle. His breath had disappeared, his bowels had emptied inside his underwear, and his lungs felt as if they had been set alight. As he fell behind, he was receiving little sympathy from the rest of the group as their progression towards the gates was almost completed. Oliver finally noticed that the exhausted group was missing a member and decided to reduce his pace, and he dropped back to help out a clearly unfit Lee Hayward.
Chapter Forty Eight
Pickle was the first to get to the gate and hesitantly touched it to make sure it wasn't electrified with a low voltage, otherwise, it was going to be a very uncomfortable climb. Maybe it
was
normally
electrified, but now the grid had crashed, he thought. He looked to his right and could see that the things were gaining on them and were only twenty yards away. Oliver and Lee were lagging behind, as Lee was clearly exhausted and young Oliver was doing his best to hurry him up, as he ran by his side with his arm across his shoulder.
Frantic screams of "Come on" and "Hurry up" could be heard from the group and Pickle had to make a decision; he made it by instructing that everyone should climb the wire fence of the entrance gates as soon as they could.
Both Paul and Karen jumped on the fence to climb and found the fence was a little flimsy. Pickle noticed that the fence was similar to the fence that surrounded the exercise yard in the prison and was more awkward to climb the more weight that was applied to it. The only saving grace was that it was a lot shorter in height. Both Karen and Paul struggled, Karen fell off and landed on her back, but Paul managed to throw himself over and landed in the car park. He was the first to get in.
"Come on!" he screamed. "It's gonna have to be one at a time; it can't take the weight. Get the kid over first."
To Thomas' dismay, both Pickle and Jack lifted him over and urged him to grab the top of the fence, where Paul urged him to fall, and promised he would catch him. He cried out for his mum, but the group told the six-year-old that they were right behind him. Kerry was told to go next; the things were only a matter of yards away, so she began to climb the gate.
Panic began to fill Lee Hayward and the exhausted man selfishly jumped on the fence and desperately tried to clamber his way over. Being the heaviest of the group, he made the fence wobble uncontrollably, forcing Kerry to lose her grip and she jumped back off. Knowing the things were only a breath away, Oliver joined Lee on trying to climb the wobbly fence, as the panic began to mutate as the seconds ticked by.
Pickle was exasperated and said to the group with a defeated shake of his head. "We've gotta go."
"I can't leave my boy!" Kerry screamed, while at the same time, through the fence, Thomas called out for his mum and became hysterical while Paul held him back.
"We can run round the perimeter of the fence, and try and get in that way," Karen yelled.
"I can't climb that." Kerry pointed at the eight-foot metal fence that had been painted black, but chose to run with the group, as she was three seconds away from being grabbed. From inside the grounds, Paul and Thomas' eyes followed Kerry, Jack, Karen and Pickle's frames as they ran around the perimeter of the fence.
Then Paul's focus returned back to the entrance gates as Lee and Oliver's legs were being grabbed at. Oliver had almost managed to throw himself over, but Lee was clearly struggling. The pair of them were dragged to their death as the crowd of the man-eaters from behind the gates began to rip the two unfortunate pair to pieces.
Thomas began to scream when he saw Oliver being pulled to the floor. Paul placed his hand over Thomas' eyes and the young boy placed the palms of his hands over his ears to diminish the awful, high-pitched screaming coming from the two males as their bodies were being devoured before their very own eyes. Both Lee and Oliver had lived long enough to see their own disembowelment before limbs were pulled away from them by the hungry mob.
Pickle and the rest were to the left of the fitness centre now, adjacent to the farmers field, and Paul could see from a distance two stray Snatchers stumbling towards the group outside the perimeter of the fence. He opened his mouth to warn the group, who were now a hundred yards away from him and Thomas, but they had already spotted them.
The group stopped in their tracks and attempted to climb the awkward eight-foot metal contraption that stood in their way. It was either death or safety. Paul ran over with Thomas to give the group a hand and Karen was the first to be lifted over by Jack and Paul, who clearly struggled. Karen landed on the other side of the fence with a heavy thump, and grazed her hands as she landed in the fitness centre's almost vacant, car park.
Karen passed her gun to Pickle through the twelve-inch gap in the metal fence, in case the two Snatchers—as she called them—caught up with them while trying to climb the fence. Kerry was the next to go over and caught her thigh on the spike; she released a cry of pain. Although the spike was quite blunt, from a fall it would have been easy to be impaled on one of the things. Kerry managed to get to her feet inbetween each spike and got to a crouching position—Pickle thought she was going to fall backwards on top of him—before jumping onto the car park's tarmac. Her feet stung with the slap landing, but she was in better shape than Lee and Oliver, so had no complaints, and quickly went over to hug her son.
Pickle could see that the two beings were only twenty yards away, and told Jack to get behind him as he aimed the gun at the one in front who looked like he used to be someone important as he was dressed in a suit, unless he was originally going to court. Pickle waited a few seconds for the thing to get closer, aware that the mob from the gates' entrance were starting to make their way to their area around the perimeter of the fence. Jack looked to see the first lot of the creatures slumbering around the corner of the fence; they weren't far away.
Pickle finally squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. He stupidly looked down the barrel of the Browning to see what was wrong and glared at Jack and shrugged his shoulders. The two creatures were almost within touching distance and the suited one surprised Pickle by quickly lunging at him.
Pickle dropped the gun and grabbed the thing around its cold neck. Jack didn't wait and lunged at the other one, a once very large female, and side-kicked it in the stomach. To his surprise, it fell backwards and turned to his left to see a no nonsense Pickle smacking the suited one against the metal of the fence. Jack knew it was only a matter of time before the trauma to the head would kill it—or re-kill it.
Jack frantically looked around for a rock, or something, as he didn't have Pickle's strength. He took a swift look behind to see the crowd of the dead gathering pace, and he ran and kicked the thing as hard as he could in the head as it tried to get up. The ghoul stood back up as if it had received no damage to the head whatsoever, and Jack tried again.
While Pickle was still smacking his victim off the steel railings, Jack lunged for the beast and they wrestled to the floor. Kerry and Thomas, on the other side of the fence, screamed for Jack to hurry up as they could see the mob walking outside and along the perimeter of the fence, getting closer to Jack Slade and Harry Branston.
Karen, Paul, Kerry and Thomas stood ten yards away from behind the railings in the car park, helplessly watching their two colleagues battling with the things, while yards behind them their 'fan club' was growing. Thomas broke away from Kerry's loose clinch and ran over to his dad, pressed his face against the railings and urged him to hurry up. "Thomas!" Kerry yelled hysterically. "Get back here!" The obese ghoul, slightly distracted, looked up at Thomas and snarled at him spraying a couple of drops of blood at the fence, some specks hitting Thomas in his face during the process.
Karen and Paul dragged Thomas away, who was complaining that he couldn't see properly and that the blood had gone in his eye and his mouth. Karen pulled out an old bit of tissue and gently spat on it and told the young boy to open his eyes so she could get rid of the one spot that landed in his right eye. She encouraged him to spit out onto the floor and pulled out a tiny bottle of water from her front pocket and urged him to drink. Karen had still plenty of supplies from the raided chemist a few days ago, but unfortunately, everything, including water and food, was in the back of the van. They didn't exactly have a lot of time to take everything with them.
Jack was still struggling and the thing that was on top of him, opened its mouth and desperately tried to bite him, causing young Thomas to scream, thinking that his dad had only seconds left before his eventual demise. More blood poured out of its mouth and Jack turned away so the putrid liquid missed his face. Suddenly, Pickle grabbed the thing and threw it off of Jack. Pickle picked the gun up as Jack scurried to his feet and tried to squeeze the trigger once more. This time it worked; it discharged and caused the thing to fall to the floor. The damage to its skull was nothing compared to the suited one that had had its cranium smashed in from the gun-wielding, no nonsense ex-inmate.
"Probably jammed 'cos it's dirty." Pickle shook his head and looked at Karen through the fence. "I told yer to keep this weapon clean. I bet yer ain't cleaned it since Stile Cop."
"I cleaned it the other day," she protested meekly.
Jack tapped him on the shoulder and pointed towards the beings that were gaining on them to their left. "I think we can discuss this later, don't you think?"
Pickle agreed, put the safety catch on the pistol, tossed the gun back at Karen through the railings and crouched down and clasped his hands together. There was no time to argue, so Jack placed his right leg on the two linked hands and flung himself up with the help of the strong ex-inmate.
Jack swung himself over easily.
Pickle grabbed the bar at the top and performed his favourite exercise, the pull up, only this time he threw his right leg over and was wedged on top of the railings with his feet dangling. The creatures were now underneath him trying to grab at him. Some of the clever ones—if that at all was possible—tried to reach through the gaps in the fence once Pickle managed the awkward fall and landed on the other side, which winded him temporarily.
Paul Parker walked forward, and helped Harry Branston to his feet, and said, "Let's try and find a way in this place."
Pickle cackled, "Yer took the words right out o' ma mouth."