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

  Chapter Two

  June 10th

  Morning had arrived, and the clouds were slowly prised open to allow the sun's rays to spill out onto the area through the now gaping gap. His head smarted and awoke to see his old foe, darkness, had finally disappeared. His window was shut, but he could hear the faint sound of a dog crying outside like a broken-hearted man, as he lay on his bed. He suddenly remembered where he was, and why he was there.

  It was his birthday.

  Life begins at forty. What a myth!

  Surely the fourth decade heralds the beginning of the end? Jack Slade thought, and had a slight chuckle to himself when he deliberated about that quote, despite his fragile condition. He thought about how many people he knew in their twenties or thirties who had had heart attacks or contracted cancer. There were none! Because most of the people that he had known had passed away through the years had all been over the age of forty, and Jack was certain that he was now at a more dangerous stage in his life.

  He opened his sticky, sappy eyes. He was relieved to be still alive.

  It was his birthday the day before, and it had to have been the saddest fortieth party a Friday night had ever witnessed in the city. To call it a party probably was an insult to the word itself. It was one man having a night of alcohol and substances, which some members of society wouldn't have approved of. Jack was alone, and had originally planned on hitting the clubs with a friend, but he had let him down at the last minute, leaving Jack to crawl the Glasgow bars alone.

  Jack sat up from his bed and moaned as soon as his body went into a right angle shape.

  His back was hunched over like a ninety-year-old man, and he placed both hands on his throbbing head. He felt under the weather and he knew it was self-inflicted, as his head smarted. This had been his worst ever hangover; even more atrocious than when he took a trip to Bournemouth to visit his friend who was attending the university there ten years ago. That had been another weekend drenched in alcohol.

  Jack was originally from Rugeley, in Staffordshire, and he and his friend, James, had arranged one weekend to see their old friend, and took the three-hour drive to the south of England, spending their time driving extremely fast, listening to dance music and smoking far too many cigarettes.

  When they arrived at Bournemouth, they had spent a few hours in the campus and then proceeded to go to some of the nightclubs that Bournemouth had to offer. After spending most of the night drinking brandy and cokes, some of the boys had made the sensible decision to escort Jack home, as he was paralytic with alcohol and was bouncing off the walls. If they hadn't escorted him home, he was going to be escorted off the premises anyway, as the bouncers at the time were looking somewhat concerned.

  Once he got back to the campus, Jack collapsed onto the floor where he slept for most of the night. When he awoke, and still drunk from the night before, he went to make himself a cup of tea and poured orange juice into his cup instead of milk—a story his friends still talked and laughed about many years after.

  That was then, but now he was forty and should have known better.

  He finally mustered the strength to place his feet onto the carpet of the room, and dressed in his jeans only, he stood to his feet. He was expecting the room to spin, but it never happened to his delight. He shuffled over to the bathroom and went in to deplete his bladder.

  When he walked into the room, his attention was distracted. He approached the sink in the average-sized bathroom and looked in the large mirror. His short brown hair was sticking up like a toilet brush. He looked to be carrying a bit of weight, his chest and shoulders were in need of a wax, and he turned around to see that his back had too much hair for his liking. He wasn't impressed with his Teen Wolf look, and knew that sometime in the near future he was going to have to book himself another wax session in the salon that was only streets away from his work. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but it was a necessity if he wanted to remain attractive to the opposite sex—not that he was beating them off with a stick.

  It would only be his third time visiting the salon, and although a requirement, he wasn't looking forward to it. The main experience that forced him to re-think his look was a year ago where he went over to a woman in a bar and spent three hours chatting to her. They exchanged numbers and saw one another the next night, this time meeting up in a restaurant. It was the second night he had seen her and she invited him back to her house. One thing led to another, they kissed furiously and began to undress one another and as soon as she took his top off, she stared and placed her hand over her mouth.

  This was never a good sign.

  She made her excuses about a migraine and politely asked him to leave. Jack couldn't believe it; he was a bit hairy, that's all. It wasn't as if he had four nipples!

  Jack was reasonably attractive, he had put on a little weight since his twenties, and his cheekbones had slowly disappeared. The side of his hair had begun to materialise grey hairs and at first he started to pluck them out, but he had succumbed to defeat after five years of plucking. The army of grey had still managed to multiply, despite the fact some of their early subordinates had been eliminated. They had started at the side of his hair, and it looked like their plan was to grow further up and multiply till they reached the top of the scalp.

  He rubbed his stubbly face, and decided he needed a shave, as the hairs growing in the chin area were visibly grey despite the stubble only being a few days old.

  Jack had never been married, and although he had had plenty of girlfriends who were not worth mentioning, there was not one he ever loved, not properly. The only girl that had meant something to him was Kerry Evans. He had met her ten years ago, and was surprised to have got her pregnant a few years later.

  When she had his son, Thomas, they decided to get married. However, typical Jack Slade managed to mess things up, as he had a one-night stand with Kerry's best friend. Jack was content with keeping the shame a secret, but Kerry's best friend had other ideas. Overcome by guilt, she turned up at their house and confessed all, resulting in Jack packing his bags, as well as receiving superficial wounds to his face when a coffee mug hit him in the chin and shattered, causing minor lacerations. The marriage never happened.

  There were good days with Kerry; they weren't all bad. His fondest memory was when he came out of the shower one evening, and nakedly marched towards the living room while she sat and watched TV. She took one look at him and asked him what the hell he was doing. Jokingly, Jack placed his hands on his hips and nodded downwards to his family jewels, and said, "Well, it's not gonna suck itself. But careful while you're down there, as it may contain nuts." She burst out laughing and told him to 'piss off.'

  Snapping out of his daydreaming of the past, he sighed. After draining his bladder and drinking a pint of water from the tap, he felt a little cold and strolled out of the bathroom and went to the wardrobe to put on his jeans and a plain black T-shirt. He preferred plain T-shirts, especially black, as it made him look slimmer; other coloured shirts showed off his definition and bulges.

  He sat back on the bed and pulled out his phone; there was one bar left on it. He needed to get home and charge it, however, he wasn't home; he was three miles from home. He was standing in a hotel room in Glasgow City Centre, and had hardly any recollection of where the weekend had gone.

  It was now Sunday morning, and he had started drinking Friday night. He popped into the town and began drinking in a public house called, The Drum and Monkey. Two hours later, he began chatting to an older woman of about forty-five, who was with friends. As it was time for her friends to leave for another bar, she decided that she wanted to stay and talk some more with this reasonably attractive man that made her laugh thanks to his dark, sometimes cruel, sense of humour. Her friends were not happy with the decision, as she was a married woman. She won in the end, and her dispirited friends left and warned Jack to look after her.

  After booking a night at the hotel and spending the night with the woman, she le
ft the hotel at around 2am, and made it clear she didn't want to see him again. Jack admitted to himself that it was the worst sex he ever had since his twenties. During it, she constantly moaned about his breath, and when she told him to get off and give her oral pleasure instead, he did what he was told.

  She enjoyed it and came within a minute. When he asked if she would finish him off, she said she was too tired and left the room, leaving him in limbo.

  Feeling lucky, and possibly a little arrogant, he decided to splash out and booked the room for another night. He had plans to go out once again in the city centre, after all, it wasn't everyday he turned forty. The night itself felt dark, there were extra police about the city and Jack had seen some violent skirmishes between policeman and members of the public, which ruined his night for him.

  As he now sat on his bed, his mother drifted into his mind. He had stopped having a relationship with his mother and his sister years ago since he moved to Glasgow after meeting a Glaswegian girl in a club in Stafford.

  He simply lost touch with his mother and sister, which was a pathetic excuse in this day and age with the technology that was available, and although it sounded harsh, the truth was that he just couldn't be bothered with them anymore, and he hadn't had a relationship with his father since he was ten years old. He wanted to be with the girl he had met, and although he felt guilty for leaving his son in Rugeley with Kerry, he still wanted to have a life. He saw his son once a fortnight and thought the move wouldn't make a jot of difference to him. His relationship with the girl didn't last long, but he decided to remain in Glasgow, as he enjoyed his office job and life in the 'big smoke.'

  He looked at his watch; it was early. The maids were due in at 11am, which meant he needed to get out eventually and head for home, his real home. He headed for the bathroom for the second time, had a quick frantic shave and then it was time for a shower. He took off his black T-shirt and his jeans and stepped in the warm, welcoming shower.

  The hot jets gently massaged his back and shoulders, and he slowly spun around so the whole of his body could experience this pleasure. He didn't want this experience to end, but decided to be strong and eventually turned the apparatus off.

  After his shower had finished, he got dressed on his bed, putting on a fresh set of underwear and socks, followed by his jeans and the black T-shirt.

  He sat and thought about his weekend experience. It was kind of sad that a man had to spend his fortieth alone in a hotel, he thought to himself. Then again, at least he got laid, well...kind of.

  He looked at his phone and snickered. There wasn't one message on his phone, despite this weekend being his birthday. He did, however, have seven missed calls, all from Kerry. He thought about his son for a second and wondered if anything had happened to him. He looked to his left as he remained sitting on the bed and then suddenly his phone chimed telling him that he had received a text message. He opened the message and sighed, it was from Kerry.

  What have I done now? Thomas' birthday isn't till next month, so it can't be that.

  He wasn't due to see Thomas until next weekend. Maybe it was a belated happy birthday from his ex-lover? If it were, it would be his first one.

  He read the first six words and smiled. Even in text form, Kerry always preferred to use, what she would call, proper English.

  It read: How are you? Hope you're okay?

  His eyes then narrowed in befuddlement when he read the next line, he read it again to make sure it wasn't the drink that was messing with his brain.

  Thomas and I are going to barricade ourselves in until this stops. Keep safe.

  He shook his head and read the whole message again. It didn't make sense. Keep safe. What did she mean by keep safe?

  He had little life left in his phone, and decided to use it to call Kerry. Before he could implement his decision, the phone went off again.

  Another message from Kerry!

  Thomas keeps on asking after you. Are you okay? If so, please don't call me.

  Jack scratched his head. Please don't call me? That doesn't even make sense.

  Jack sent a message back: I'm fine. What's going on?

  His phone received another message: You don't know?

  He replied: No!

  Ten seconds later, he received another message from his ex: Turn on the TV.

  Chapter Three

  H wing had been unobtrusive all night.

  Usually, when Janine Perry worked night shift, the buzzers would constantly go off between 10pm and 3am by prisoners wanting paracetamol for their headache, and then it would quieten down. She despised twelve-hour night shifts, but with doing these shifts, she got more days off in the month.

  She was on with Jamie Thomson, also known as JT. He was okay, she thought. Just okay. He had dark, short hair, thirty-nine years old, quite muscular, but she didn't find him attractive. He looked like ex-military with his look, but she didn't know him well enough to be aware of his background.

  Sure, they talked while on the night shift, but any personal questions would be shunned. She took the hint, and kept the conversation to basic topics such as the prisoners, television, music and films.

  Their shift started at 10pm, they would turn up on the wings, sign the handover sheet, then their colleagues would perform lock-up and then go home at ten in the evening to leave Janine and Jamie to it. There was two house blocks within the prison. On each house block there were four wings that consisted of seventy to ninety inmates. Once the wings were locked up and the roll count had been performed and the numbers collated, the four-slider doors that led to each wing were opened, and the officers sat in an office that they nicknamed, the bubble.

  The bubble was the control section for that particular house block which, by computer and touch screen, opened and closed the doors to the wings and to the house block itself. This would be used constantly during the day with officers needing access to get on and off the wings, especially if prisoners needed to be escorted out of the wings to the canteen, the gym, the health centre, the education department or the visits area.

  Janine had a reputation amongst the prison staff that she couldn't care less what she said, as most times she spoke her mind. Sometimes this had got her into trouble, but she wasn't caring. The money wasn't that great anyway, and even if she was sacked, she would just get another job. There was no pressure on her, as at the age of twenty-seven, she had no boyfriend and still lived with her mum and dad, so she had no mortgage to pay for.

  This was the longest part of the night. The time between 7am and 10am was the longest three hours of the shift, because they couldn't wait for it to finish and this was also where the tiredness would kick in.

  Janine gave off a loud, exaggerating yawn to break the quiet tension that had been smothering the two officers for the last hour. The conversation had dried up by 6:30am, and the officers still had a while to go. As the hours dragged by, the boisterousness from the inmates had begun to grow as the minutes progressed. Inmates were talking through their doors to communicate with their nearest neighbours. Janine began to sit up her fatigued body, and widened her eyes in a pitiful attempt to keep herself awake. The noises were becoming more audible from all four wings; some were now beginning to slam their hands on the doors.

  "What time is it?" Jamie asked Janine. "I think the other shift should have been here half an hour ago."

  Because no one had turned up, it meant that the two of them were powerless until the other officers arrived. It wasn't till 9am that they could shut the slider doors that would seal off the wings, and then they could start opening the cell doors.

  The clamour coming from all four wings grew so much, that Janine thought that if they hadn't been in the bubble, the noise would be resounding to human ears if they were on the wings.

  Something was wrong.

  Being in their cells for an extra thirty minutes wasn't helping, but the cons had never acted like this before, not collectively, not all three hundred of them!

 
Jamie looked at Janine, his concerned face made Janine's face drain. Jamie wasn't a guy that scared easily, he was one of the toughest officers there was, and the angst carved on his face made Janine gulping a challenging job. The pair of them sat in the bubble on their seats in front of the screens.

  Jamie looked to the floor in thought, shook his head softly and looked up at Janine.

  He said, "Something's not right. The inmates are sounding scared, and the other shift ain't even turned up."

  "What do you think it is?"

  He slowly shrugged his shoulders. He didn't have the answer. "I think we should call the Governor."

  Jamie stood to his feet and stretched, arching his back and raising his arms in the air. The stretching lasted seconds, before he walked over to the phone. He looked up at Janine, and she nodded her head. She was sure Jamie's look was asking if they should really call the Governor, as he didn't like to be bothered for minor incidents.

  In his years as an officer, Jamie had never experienced this kind of noise and panic coming from all four wings. Before he could dial the number, the phone went off. It was an officer from house block one—Janine and Jamie was situated in house block two—and Jamie immediately picked up the phone.

  "We've got a situation up here," the man from house block one announced over the phone.

  "We have also," Jamie spoke. "What's going on?"

  "You don't know?"

  "No, otherwise I wouldn't be asking." Jamie could feel his temperature rising, his blood simmered.

  The man on the other line said, "The TV channels are not working, so turn on the radio and call me back in ten minutes. We need to talk."

  Jamie walked over to the radio and switched it on. Janine didn't say a word; they both sat and listened to the information that was being delivered.

  For ten minutes they sat and listened, Jamie shook his head throughout most of it, Janine gently sobbed through some of it.