The Dead Don't Fear Page 4

  “I’ve seen you about for a few days,” he said with nerves in his voice. “I just wanted to get to know you.”

  “Get to know me? I’m fourteen.”

  “No, I don’t mean like that.” Christopher laughed and had his arms wrapped around his body. He stopped chuckling and said with a straight face, “It’s good for us young ones to knock about together.”

  “Is that right?” Stephanie looked at the sixteen-year-old and said, “I’m not interested.”

  Christopher looked annoyed and began to bite the inside of his cheek. His face changed to a serious one and he said, “I heard you threatened one of them.”

  “Did you now?”

  “Yeah.” Christopher cleared his throat. “You threatened to put an arrow in Ronnie.”

  “If they touched David, yes.”

  Christopher was surprised with Stephanie’s honesty and this had stumped him. He said, “Do you know they’ve reported you to Drake?”

  “Why?” Stephanie seemed both surprised and annoyed that she had been reported.

  “You can’t make threats like that, even if you are a...” Christopher paused and was unsure how to finish his sentence.

  “Even if I’m a what?” Stephanie smiled and elevated her eyebrows.

  Christopher appeared uncomfortable and raised his shoulders, unsure on how to explain himself. “Even if you’re...”

  “I’m waiting.” Stephanie knew what he was about to say, but waited and allowed Christopher to squirm with embarrassment.

  He never answered.

  “A girl?” Stephanie chuckled.

  “Well, I was gonna say teenager, a young one at that,” he lied. Stephanie could tell by his face he was lying.

  “Well, you can tell Drake that I don’t give a toss.” Stephanie put her bag over her shoulder and had now put the bowstring over her other one, picking up the arrows.

  Christopher said, “You can tell him yourself.”

  “What?” Stephanie had a quick look around and was perplexed, expecting Drake to be present on the grounds somewhere. What was Christopher talking about?

  She couldn’t see Drake anywhere. “What are you talking about?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Christopher sighed and began to explain. “He wants to speak to you.”

  Christopher wore a large smile and waited for the nerves to kick in for the fourteen-year-old girl. He waited for her to stammer and shudder with nerves. Most of the time when Drake demanded to see people, they became scared. Stephanie disappointed Christopher and didn’t seem bothered at all, and he knew that it wasn’t an act.

  “Did you hear me?” he snapped. “Drake wants to see you.”

  Stephanie revealed a small smile and nonchalantly hunched her shoulders, “I don’t care.”

  “Well, you better.”

  “And why’s that?” Stephanie had her arms folded and was waiting for a response from the annoying young man.

  “In house fighting weakens the group. That’s what Drake always says.”

  “I’ll see him in a bit.”

  “You’ll see him now.” Christopher beckoned Stephanie to follow him. “He’s waiting in his office.”

  “His office?”

  “The staff room. I’ll show you the way.”

  Chapter Nine

  It took over an hour for Karen and Pickle to finish loading the back of the pickup, even when using the trolleys. Pickle turned on the engine and could see Karen standing outside. He opened his door and yelled, “Yer gettin’ in or what?”

  “Be a minute,” she told him. She turned to the side and emptied her nostrils, and then wiped her hands down her trousers.

  “What?” Pickle was perplexed with her be a minute comment.

  “Need to go back inside and use the lavvy.”

  “For God’s sake. Why?”

  “I have an evacuation to take care of.”

  Pickle scrunched his face and his bottom lip drooped. “A what?”

  “A number two.” Karen giggled and blew him a kiss. “Won’t be long.”

  Karen jogged into the garden centre and headed for the toilets. She kept her machete in her belt and was convinced that the dead that they had come across earlier were the only ones present. She approached the door to the toilets and was still cautious when opening it.

  She placed her fingers on the door and her ear against it. The door was gently pushed open once she was satisfied it was clear, and went to the first cubicle of the eight that were on offer.

  She sat down and did her business as quickly as she could. Thankful there was toilet roll attached to the wall, she cleaned herself up once she was done, put the toilet seat down and pulled her combats up.

  She placed her hand, ready to open the door, and sobbed all of a sudden. She took herself by surprise, but decided to let it all out before she returned to Pickle. It hadn’t been that long since she had the miscarriage, Gary’s baby, and hid her feelings well, but every now and again her buried emotions would come to the surface.

  She wiped her eyes and took in a deep breath.

  “Come on, Karen. Pull yourself together, girl.”

  She opened the door and stepped out of the cubicle.

  A sound could be heard to her left and a lone female Snatcher shuffled out of the end cubicle. The dead being was dressed in dirty jeans and a black T-shirt with blue overalls. Karen’s crying must have disturbed it.

  Karen wasn’t sure if the woman was heavy, or it had eaten some poor fucker whilst she was a Snatcher and the meat had simply nowhere to go. She turned and looked at Karen with her dead eyes and began to shuffle towards Bradley from the other side of the room.

  Karen faced the thing and had nothing but sympathy for the dead female. The Snatcher got closer as it walked towards her, and Karen could see now that it was an employee of the place and her name was Susan, according to her name badge.

  Karen continued to gaze and once they were close, the dead being held out its arms and tried to grab Karen, but Karen pushed it away.

  The dead individual staggered back and Karen stood and watched as it came towards her again and made another attempt to grab her. The thing was pushed once more, and Karen felt a wave of sympathy for a woman that possibly had a partner and kids and never had time to get back to them. She had been here since the beginning.

  It held out its arms to grab at the twenty-three-year-old female, but this time Karen pushed it hard enough for it to fall over. If it was a human, it would have received concussion and possibly be knocked out, but it hit the back of its head on the hard floor and tried to move right away.

  She watched, as it struggled to get back up, and for whatever reason she walked away without putting the thing down. She pushed open the swing door and wandered through the eerie establishment.

  Karen shook her head and murmured, “Poor soul,” before leaving the toilet area.

  A minute later she was back in the pickup, sitting next to Pickle, and never told him about her close call.

  Chapter Ten

  Vince and Craig turned a corner on one of the aisles, and tried to catch up with an over-excited Rowley who had went ahead without them. They stopped walking once their eyes clocked a scene that confused Craig at first, but Vince knew what was happening right away and began to shake his head.

  “You think we can take them?” Craig asked Vince, raising the hockey stick in preparation.

  “Probably, if our backs were to the wall and we had no choice. But we do have a choice.”

  Vince looked over to the freezer section. The floor was flooded from when the freezers had defrosted once the power went, and there were eight Snatchers around the ground ones, clawing at the clear perspex of the empty vertical freezer. They both could see Stephen inside the freezer, holding onto the door handle from the inside, just in case one of the dead had managed to work out how to open a door. Vince had never seen it himself, but he could understand why Stephen was doing it.

  Vince shook his head. “Must have
ran into them, panicked, then went into the freezer. Stupid bastard.”

  Craig asked, “So what do we do?”

  “We’ll entice them out of the building and run them down with the van,” Vince said, and began to wave at Stephen, making the already frightened man throw expletives at Kindl who could hardly hear what he was saying.

  “Can’t we just kill them?” Craig raised the stick.

  “No chance.” Vince shook his head. “I’m not soaking my clothes with blood for these cunt waffles.”

  “They used to be people, Vince,” Craig groaned.

  “Not anymore, Craig. They’re just empty shells without souls.”

  Craig turned and gazed at Kindl strangely. He had heard that saying before. “Isn’t that what Pickle described them as a while back, when he was addressing some of us back at Colwyn Place?”

  “Um ... yeah.” Vince ran his fingers through his grey hair and looked sheepish. “I stole it. Didn’t think you’d remember it.”

  Craig laughed gently and was about to ask Vince how they were going to get the dead to follow them outside, but Vince beat him to it and released a wolf whistle.

  All eight turned and almost had a look of perplexity on their faces. One by one they shuffled towards Craig and Vince, and the two strolled casually towards the exit of the place with the dead behind them.

  “I’ll wedge the door open when we get out.”

  “Obviously,” Craig said with a smile. “I’m not holding the door open for them.”

  Vince had a look over his shoulder to make sure they were still being followed. All eight were still behind them.

  Craig opened the door and was first to step outside, and Vince opened the door as wide as he could, forcing it to stay where it was.

  Vince walked towards the van and took the keys out of his pocket. Craig got in the unlocked vehicle first; Vince started the engine as soon as his bum touched the driver’s seat and waited a few seconds so the dead would get closer. He slipped the vehicle into first and took off the parking brake.

  The two of them waited for all eight to shamble outside, and once they were all out, Vince raised the clutch and dipped the accelerator. He never battered an eyelid as the heavy vehicle struck the group. It was a short, messy and bumpy episode, but it was all over after five seconds.

  Vince stopped the vehicle and had a look in his wing mirror. Craig did the same, looking in the passenger wing mirror, and told Vince that there was one of the dead still standing.

  “Must have missed it,” said Kindl. “I could have sworn I hit all eight of the shits.”

  Vince groaned and selected reverse, hitting the accelerator again, and this time striking the lone ghoul whilst going over the ones that had already been put down.

  He could now see eight bodies on the ground and stopped the vehicle. Both men jumped out and inspected the bodies on the floor.

  Vince walked round the back of the building, prompting Craig to follow him and ask where he was going. Vince never gave him an answer.

  Vince stopped walking and pointed over to a canopy.

  “This is where the deliveries turn up on pallets. They’re then taken in by forklift and the workers break the pallets down and stack the products on the shelves.” Vince explained, before Craig had a chance to ask why the fuck he was being told such a mundane story. “I used to work at a place with a similar set up.”

  “Look, Vince.” Craig pointed.

  “I see it.”

  There was an upside down pallet, as if it had fallen off the back of a truck or had come off the forks of a truck that was transporting it into the warehouse. Some tins were damaged and scattered over the ground, but most of the products on the pallet were still intact and the products were wrapped with cellophane.

  Vince looked at Craig, who now had a big smile on his face, and said, “Looks like we hit the jackpot.”

  “Indeed we have, Vince.”

  “Let’s go and get the van,” said Vince.

  The two men reached the front of the place and stood by the only door that led into the warehouse.

  “Right.” Craig clapped his hands together. “I suppose we better go and get Rowley.”

  “Shit,” Vince laughed and palmed his forehead. “I forgot about him.”

  “Jesus,” Craig cackled. “What are you like? Come on, let’s go get him before he pisses himself.”

  Vince turned and pointed at the main door. “No need.”

  They could both see the man staggering towards them. Vince and Craig went back to the van and a minute later Stephen stumbled out of the building. He stopped moving and looked at the dead on the floor. He scratched his head in confusion and his eyes looked up and gazed at the two men sitting in the front of the van.

  Vince wound down the window and said, “Um ... whenever you’re ready, Stephen.”

  Rowley went over to the passenger side and got in after Craig opened the door. Rowley was close to tears and looked shell shocked.

  “Sorry?” Vince cupped his ear. “Was that a thank you?”

  Stephen turned and looked at Vince, then looked through the wing mirror and at the bodies sprawled over the ground.

  “Thank you,” Stephen mumbled.

  “Right, Stephen,” said Vince. “We have a pallet to pick up from round the back of the place, and then we’re gonna head.”

  “Where to next?” Craig spoke up. “Stoke Hospital?”

  “Yip.” Vince nodded. “It’s called The Good Hope, nicknamed The No Hope.”

  “I went there a couple of years ago,” Stephen remarked. “I thought it was okay. I was in for about two nights and the staff were great.”

  “What were you in for?” Vince pointed at Stephen’s chest and added, “A boob reduction.”

  “Very funny, chap.” Stephen was clearly not in the mood for Vince’s jokes after his fright inside the wholesalers and was desperate to go back to Stafford Hospital. He hoped the trip to Stoke was going to be straightforward.

  “It’s seventeen miles away, so let’s get this pallet in the back before we get tae fuck, as my Glaswegian grandfather used to say.”

  “I thought your family were of Austrian heritage, chap?”

  “They are. I just made up the Glaswegian thing.”

  Stephen grunted, cleared his throat and twisted his neck. “Why?”

  “Dunno.” Vince said. “I think I have a screw loose.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Drake gazed longingly at the photograph of his son and thought back to the days before the apocalypse. He could feel his tears filling his eyes, and quickly wiped them and cleared his throat when a knock was heard from the door to the side of him.

  “Wait a minute,” he yelled in a croaky voice.

  He opened a cupboard and took a drink of water. He grabbed a tea towel that was lying on the draining board of the sink and gave his eyes another wipe. He put the photograph of his boy away and then told the individual behind the door to come in.

  Drake sat down on one of the plastic chairs of a place that used to be a staff room for A and E workers, and rested his forearms in front of him, on the table.

  Stephanie Perkins stepped in and smiled when she clocked Drake.

  “You wanted to see me?” she said.

  “Sit down, Stephanie.” Drake folded his arms and watched as the teenager took a while to get herself comfortable.

  She said, “I know what this is about.”

  “Do you?” Drake smiled. He admired this young girl. He had heard about her being out there on her own, surviving, and heard about her heroics. She was fourteen, but deadly with a bow.

  “So what have you heard?”

  “I threatened someone.”

  “Yes, you did.” Drake released a light chuckle. “I can’t have an unsettled camp. Fighting within is unnecessary and not good for morale, especially if it’s a new person being the troublemaker. It’s easy enough to ask them to leave.”

  “So are you going to ask me to leave?” Stephanie prod
uced a scowl.

  “Of course not,” Drake laughed.

  “If I leave, Pickle and the rest will go as well.”

  Drake’s laughter soon came to a halt, and he bit his bottom lip in anger and didn’t like her cheeky response. However, she was right. He knew she was right.

  Stephanie added, “You have to hear both sides of the story before you say anything.” He wasn’t a fan of her cheekiness, but was impressed that she didn’t seem bothered that she was in his company. A lot of the guys shook with nerves when they spoke to Drake.

  “Oh?”

  Stephanie seemed to have lost concentration for a few seconds. She looked around the staff room and visually inspected the place. Drake cleared his throat, getting her attention, and she faced the man and began to explain.

  “You see,” she began, “those two tossers, Ronnie and John, have been making David MacDonald’s life a misery since we’ve arrived.”

  “David.” Drake leaned back in the chair and looked confused. “Which one is David?”

  “The young boy from Colwyn.”

  “You mean...” Drake started to scratch his stubbly chin. “They’re bullying him?”

  Stephanie nodded. “They did it in front of me. That’s when I said I’d put an arrow in their gut.”

  Drake burst out laughing and said, “You’re the kind of person we need in here. Jesus, what are you gonna be like when you’re in your twenties, especially if you’re pre-menstrual? Who knows? Maybe you’ll be running the place if anything happens to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a tough cookie, that’s what I mean.”

  “I’m just sticking up for my friend,” said Stephanie. “And anyway, Pickle is the toughest person I’ve known.”

  “I reckon I could take him.” Drake smiled and this made Stephanie smirk. It was very rare people saw the playful side of him, but he liked this girl.

  “You reckon?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Drake laughed. “One hand behind my back.”

  “I heard that he took down three guys for calling him a name. He broke a guy’s neck once, with his bare hands. He even cut a man’s throat to send a message to intruders not to enter the camp.”