The Dead Don't Fear Read online

  “I was getting sick of the sun.” Small Chris began to laugh. “I suppose I have a cheek moaning about the weather.”

  “Yes, you do.” Drake hated Chris. He found him an annoying man and wished his men had left him at the side of the road months ago where he was found. He complained a lot, yet never contributed and was a lazy individual.

  “But I can’t help it,” Chris continued. “This heat is no good for my skin.”

  “Oh.” Drake looked at the man with hatred and added with sarcasm, “I thought you was going to say: I have a cheek moaning about the weather because millions are dead, including children, and those that are still alive are living off scraps and drinking their own piss.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant at all.”

  Drake groaned and shook his head. “Is there a reason for you to be standing here, annoying the cunt out of me?”

  “Well…”

  “Yes?” Drake snapped. “Spit it out!”

  “I wanted to ask you a question,” Chris said. “Two, in fact.”

  Drake looked to the side and could see Chris had paused and kept his mouth closed. It didn’t look like he was going to continue any further, so Drake had to speed him along.

  “And?” Drake snapped. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to fucking guess?”

  “Well...” Chris cleared his throat and dipped his head. The query was going to be embarrassing for the man, but the man who was going to give him the answer was in no mood for the small man in his fifties.

  “Listen, Chris,” Drake began. “You better hurry this up, otherwise I’m going to take your shoes off and beat you to death with them.”

  “Okay. I was wondering if you’ve seen my cat, Mr Tiddles.”

  “Is this the cat you found last week?”

  Chris nodded. “Haven't seen him since yesterday.”

  “No, I haven’t.

  “That’s a shame,” Chris sighed. “I hope he hasn’t ran away. He’s good company.”

  “Good company,” Drake guffawed. “Could he speak?”

  Baffled by the query, Chris narrowed his eyes and said, “Of course not. He’s a cat.”

  “Then what the fuck are you talking about?" Drake shook his head and said, “Next question.”

  “Is it possible for me to go out on the next run?”

  Drake turned and looked at Small Chris. His face was determined, but he had no experience with killing the dead. When he was picked up months ago, he had survived by running, hiding, and avoiding other survivors. He only flagged the WOE moped gang down when he had no other option. When he was found he hadn’t eaten in three days, and was dehydrated from lack of water and vomiting after drinking water from the river.

  “Chris, my little friend.” Drake placed his hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Some people are warriors, some people are not.”

  “But at least give me a try.”

  “Can’t happen.” Drake shook his head and removed his hand. “We have enough people to do runs.”

  “I’m demented sitting about in here.”

  “You have jobs to do, don’t you?”

  Chris sighed and Drake felt for him a little. He could understand why he was so frustrated. Most of the guys went out and some of the women too. Even fourteen-year-old Stephanie Perkins was allowed out, but she was a special exception with her background, her skill as an archer, and experience of surviving out there. Chris had never killed a Snatcher and his age and height went against him.

  “Why not just let me do one?” Chris said, almost begging. “Just a simple one?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Why?”

  “Inexperienced people can panic and make stupid decisions that could affect the whole group you’re out with.”

  “How am I supposed to get experience if I’m not allowed out?” Chris looked frustrated and Drake was certain that the diminutive man was going to cry. “You let Darren out on a run for the first time.”

  “Double D is eager, stronger and younger than you. And I hear he did very well for his first time.”

  “Double D? Why do you call him that?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Drake said. “Anyway, the subject of going out on a run is closed.”

  “Just like that?”

  Drake remained silent and could feel his blood simmering and knew on a bad day he would have slapped Chris about, or worse. This had been the first time that Chris had quarrelled with Drake, and Drake thought that the subject must have been important to Chris to behave the way he was behaving, but him going out on a run wasn’t happening.

  “Drake?”

  “Look,” he snapped. “Don’t ask me about this again, okay?”

  “Just one chance.”

  “No!”

  “But why?”

  Drake’s patience was lost and he snapped at Chris, “Because you’re a useless cunt, that’s why. You wouldn’t make a paraplegic do the hurdles, would you? Or ask a thalidomide if they wanted to play darts? So you’re not going out there. You’d be a disaster.” Drake walked away from the crestfallen man and huffed, “Now fuck off and leave me alone!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The four sets of feet entered the car park and Pickle was the first to stop moving when he clocked the front of the prison. The huge slider that vans transporting prisoners and supplies went through was left open and they could see the prison’s football pitch. They could also see a few Snatchers inside and knew that getting inside the wing wasn’t going to be easy, if David was in there. He could have been hiding outside.

  “Is there an easier way of getting in there?” Vince asked Pickle.

  “Not sure.” He pointed over at the gatehouse. “Now, that’s a place where a couple o’ officers used to work. From there they would operate all the doors in the prison. The doors were controlled and electronically opened by security. So, with no power, they’re either open, or they’re locked indefinitely.”

  “Brings back memories?” Karen asked him.

  “Just a few.” Pickle smiled.

  “I’ll try the gatehouse door.” She walked ahead of Vince, Pickle and Stephanie and tried the door. She turned and gave off a thin smile. “It’s open.”

  She stepped inside and had a quick look around in the diminutive place and stepped back out. “Nothing there. No David.”

  Pickle nodded and pulled out his machete. He pointed up ahead and said, “We’ll check it out properly later, Bradley. We have to check inside the wings, but first we have to sort this little problem out.”

  Karen looked ahead and could see half a dozen Snatchers that were many yards away; they were heading in their direction after one had spotted the small group.

  “It’s okay.” Stephanie placed her hand on his shoulder. “I can get them. I have enough arrows.”

  “Okay,” Pickle snickered. “We’ll just stand back and watch yer in action.”

  Three minutes later, Stephanie had killed all six. She never missed once.

  She was the first to walk by the slider and as she approached the bodies she had put down, she removed the arrow, wiped them on the tattered clothes of the dead, and then put them back in her bag.

  They all looked around and could see more than six bodies on the ground, and then Pickle spotted the quilts all draped over the barbed wire at the top of the fences that surrounded the exercise yard. Prisoners must have killed a few on their way out, Pickle thought. Crows were pecking on the cadavers and Pickle walked by a pile of blood, guts and bones, and noticed a golden chain on the ground with a golden K pendant that could just about be seen lying next to the mess.

  He recognised the pendant right away once he crouched down to get a better look. He had seen it many times before.

  Pickle pulled his T-shirt over his nose and winced in disgust as the flies flew away as he got closer.

  “You okay?” Karen asked him.

  He nodded and pointed up at the quilts on top of the barbed wire fence. “That’s how we got out,” he said. �
��Janine and Jamie opened the doors and most o’ us made a run for it.”

  “Why were you staring at that?” She pointed at the messy pile and now Vince and Stephanie were standing next to them.

  Pickle pointed at the bloody pile of bones and guts and half a head that was unrecognisable with the skin and the eyes missing, as well as the discolouring of the skin. “That there used to be Kyle Horan,” Pickle groaned. “I recognise the necklace.”

  “Friend of yours?” Vince asked.

  “Hardly.” Pickle laughed, turned to the side and spat on the floor. “Him and Jason Bonser were as thick as thieves. They were bad ‘uns.”

  Vince looked through the wiry fence of the exercise yard and could see a door open. “You think that’s where David could be?”

  “Probably.” Pickle nodded. “The officers opened up all four doors to the exercise yard, but we’ll climb o’er and go through that. It’ll lead us onto ma old wing, but the slider doors are open so we can check out all four o’ them.”

  “What?” Vince scratched his head.

  Seeing the confusion on Vince’s face, Pickle explained, “Jamie and Janine were on nightshift and all sliders are left open when the prisoners are locked up. They opened up our house block. Unfortunately, they weren’t so lucky.” He pointed over at a separate building.

  “What’s that?” Stephanie asked.

  “Another house block.” Pickle tried to explain, “Yer see, the officers have different keys than the ones that are on a separate house block. When it all kicked off, the officers on that house block, o’er there, fucked off and left those poor bastards to starve to death.”

  “There is no way of getting in there?” asked Vince.

  Pickle shook his head. “If David is in this prison, he’s on this house block.”

  “And if he’s not?”

  Pickle hunched his shoulders. “Then we go back.”

  “Is it safe to go in?” Vince asked.

  “Dunno,” Pickle sniggered. “Haven’t gone in yet.”

  “What I mean is—”

  “There’s no Snatchers in there. There is no way they could have gotten in. If there’s movement in there, it’s human movement.”

  Stephanie placed her bow and bag on the floor and said, “Let’s see if those quilts still do their job.”

  She climbed the fence as the other three looked on, and watched as she swung herself over to the other side. She climbed down a lot quicker than she climbed up, naturally looking over her shoulder every second, in case any surprises came out of the opened exercise yard door to Pickle’s old wing.

  Her feet touched the floor and Vince picked up her bag and tossed it over the fence, then threw the bow over, which Stephanie caught. Vince decided he was next, and Karen and Pickle watched and waited, as they knew three people on the fence at the same time would cause it to be unstable and more difficult to climb.

  Pickle smiled as he looked around and thought of the people who used to dwell in the place. Jason Bonser, Kyle Horan, Laz, Grass, KP and Gary Jenkins to name a few.

  Karen gave Pickle a nudge to bring him out of his daydreaming and told him that he was next.

  “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “Drake wants me to run the medical supplies like I briefly did back at Colwyn,” said Karen. “I suppose I’ll be like a kind of GP.”

  Pickle nodded. He thought it was a good idea. “May as well put yer skills to some good use, Bradley.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “It’ll keep yer busy as well.”

  “I know.” She groaned and pushed her dark hair behind her ears and added, “I’m looking forward to it. I suppose it depends on what drugs we have. I’m going to sort them out when we get back.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Erm...” Vince cleared his throat and was standing on the other side of the fence, next to Stephanie. “In your own time, guys. No rush.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Joanne Hammett sat on her bed and lay down in an area that used to be a ward. She was in an area that had eight beds and Karen, Patricia, Stephanie, plus four others stayed there.

  She missed her home. She missed Colwyn Place. Of course, when she was there in the last month or so, it wasn’t the same. The apocalypse had driven some people from her street away, others died, and a wall had been erected to ensure there was some kind of protection, but she loved her little place. Even though the power had gone and phones had stopped working, she liked it there. It was still her home.

  She thought about the people from the past. John Lincoln was especially kind to her when it all kicked off, and when the Murphys had been killed, it gave the remaining residents a chance to create a small community.

  She thought about the remaining ones at Colwyn Place. There weren’t many left, but she was certain that they’d be safe. Drake’s men had caused a lot of trouble, but now that had been put to rest, and the street had never had any problems with the dead. Strays appeared now and again, and there was one major incident when dozens turned up at the wall, but that was quickly dealt with. She thought that the hospital was a great set-up, but the bigger the camp, the more attractive it would be to take from outsiders.

  Colwyn Place was a street that was practically in the middle of nowhere. It was two miles from Rugeley, six miles from Stafford. At the time she thought it was the perfect place to stay in such dire circumstances, and felt blessed that she lived there, even in the beginning when the Murphys were rampaging through the village.

  She remembered the horror stories Pickle and Karen used to tell her when they were around the Rugeley area. This town used to have a population of twelve thousand before June 9th and Stafford had nearly seventy thousand. The loose theory was that the heavier the population, the more danger there was. Even after three months, the chances of the dead and desperate survivors would be larger if they stayed in a place that used to be heavy populated.

  Drake had a great set-up, she thought. He and his people had worked hard and suffered casualties to get it to where it was now, but she still felt they hadn’t been tested yet. The longer this went on, survivors on the outside would become more desperate and dangerous.

  She took in a slow breath and released an impatient sigh. She was dying for a cigarette.

  She heard footsteps down the hall and knew they belonged to a man. She sat up and waited to see if the individual would walk by or not. It was Stephen Rowley and he knocked the opened door and asked if he could come inside.

  “Course you can.” Joanne smiled and sat at the side of the bed. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Stephen grunted and twisted his neck. “Just seeing if you’re okay, chap. It is taking a lot to adjust to.”

  “I know,” Joanne moaned. “That was exactly what I was thinking.”

  “We’ll get used to it.” Stephen released a smile, noticing that Joanne looked unhappy.”

  “Will we?”

  “Yes, chap,” he grunted. “It’s like changing job. A new way of working and new people.”

  “Plus new digs.”

  “Yes, well there is that as well.” Stephen stepped inside and stopped a yard from Joanne. “You okay?”

  “I think I would like to go back,” she admitted, and ran her fingers through her blonde hair.

  “Back to Colwyn?”

  She nodded.

  “But the facilities we have here—”

  “I know, I know,” she huffed with impatience. “I have it good here and I’m an ungrateful bitch.”

  “You miss your house?”

  She nodded. “Well, it’s not Terry I miss, is it?”

  Stephen sat on the bed next to Joanne and could see she was becoming upset. He placed his arm around her and said, “Remember what was said.”

  “What?”

  “We’re not prisoners here, chap.” Stephen paused and rubbed his hand up and down her back. “If you wanted to go, then on the next run you’d be dropped off. The same for people at Colwyn who
want to come here. It won’t be a problem, if you really want to go, but you should give it a couple of weeks before making a decision.”

  “You think?”

  Stephen nodded. “I think the people of Colwyn will come here eventually.”

  Joanne looked up and asked, “What makes you so sure?”

  “We have everything we need here.”

  “Except wifi.”

  “Okay.” Stephen laughed. “But apart from that, we couldn’t be more comfortable.”

  “They’re doing okay at Colwyn as well,” Joanne said. “Karen told me when she came back.”

  “True. But they’ll be here, sooner or later.”

  “Why?”

  “Two words.”

  “Yes?”

  “The winter, chap.”

  “That’s three words.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Karen and I will check E and F Wing.” Pickle nodded at Vince and Stephanie. “Yer guys check this one and G Wing.”

  “Okay.” Vince nodded and turned to Stephanie. “This’ll get done quicker if one of us takes a floor each.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Pickle intervened. “We need to check every cell properly. If any nasty surprises are in any o’ them, yer might need two people to sort it out.”

  “Nasty surprises,” Vince chuckled. “What like? A turd that was left in the loo over three months ago? And as for the dead...”

  “No,” Pickle sighed. “I’m talkin’ about people. There won’t be any dead inside.”

  “How do you know that?” Stephanie asked.

  “Nobody inside was infected when we left.”

  “But it’s clear there were dead on the grounds when we came in,” said Vince.

  “They must have come in after the slider was left open. I think that was opened when Janine and Jamie left and took the van. The dead can’t climb fences, so there shouldn’t be any inside.”