Johnny, however, was that the supervisor was the guy that opened the factory, which meant that he had the majority of the keys to the place. The supervisor also was in possession of a set of keys that would have been perfect for Johnny, if only he could drive. The set of keys was for the supervisor's black jeep, and would have come in handy if Johnny could actually use a car, but he couldn't.
Even if he had the keys in his pocket and needed to escape, he would still be forced to go on foot. Driving cars had never interested him; he had never taken the driving test at all and had never taken a lesson in his life. He thought they were too ridiculously-expensive and relied on lifts to get to work and back, as the bus service in a village like Fradley was pretty dire.
The boardroom was locked; there was a solitary window, but with a thick pane. Every time Johnny went to the first floor, the former supervisor would get excited and stand near the office window, clawing at it. But Johnny was used to it now. He never flinched anymore. It wasn't June 9th anymore; it was June 23rd, and Johnny had become accustomed to living in fear and alone in the factory. What worried him the most was what he was going to do once he ran out of food and water.
Chapter Three
Pickle rubbed his hairy chin which annoyed him. He had never had a beard and was always a clean-shaven individual. His grey jogging bottoms and his black T-shirt were days old now, and he wondered when he was going to get himself a new set of clothes. For three nights they had slept in the woods, and they were now on the brink of starvation; their stomachs were empty and now they had to leave the area and venture somewhere where food was available.
The woods were reasonably quiet and the original plan was for the group to stay in there for as long as possible. The more days passed, the less chance there would be of those things to deal with, or so they hoped. But the hunger was now drawing them out.
Karen sat down and the main unpleasant experience of the woods wasn't the fear of the Snatchers, but the fact that they had to do their business with no toilet roll for the last three days; leaves were all they had, and the twenty-three-year-old former nurse was paranoid about picking up infections.
Karen watched as Paul and Jade were standing ten yards away, giggling to one another as if it was a private joke. The pair of them had become close over the last few days, but it was innocent, especially as far as Paul was concerned as his wife, Jocelyn, and his two-year-old daughter, Hannah, were constantly talked about by the thirty-one-year-old.
She put her head in her hands and Pickle asked what was wrong. "I'm thirsty," answered Karen.
"Tell me about it. I haven't drank water since the sports centre, just a coke and a bottle of vimto."
"I've been in and out of the woods for the past fortnight. I could murder a cup of tea and a hot shower."
Pickle laughed, "A cup of tea would be great. I've even thought about breaking back into my old prison."
"Seriously?"
Pickle shrugged. "There should be a generator o' some sort to keep the place goin' for a few weeks, but I suppose it'll be overrun with those things now; either that, or some gang have claimed it."
"Probably," Karen said, then winced with the pain in her head.
"What is it?"
Karen looked over to Paul and Jade who were standing ten yards away, and seemed to be involved in their own conversation. Karen put her forefingers to her temples and winced again. "It's nothing. Just a headache." She then cupped her right hand, sharply breathed into it and took a sniff of her cupped hand. "My breath smells like shit."
Pickle smiled. "Don't worry about it. We all stink."
For the last three days the four individuals had been trying to stay low, but the lack of food was beginning to entice them out. The group, after living off rations of crisps and juice, were finally running out of food, and Pickle knew that staying in the woods
Even if he had the keys in his pocket and needed to escape, he would still be forced to go on foot. Driving cars had never interested him; he had never taken the driving test at all and had never taken a lesson in his life. He thought they were too ridiculously-expensive and relied on lifts to get to work and back, as the bus service in a village like Fradley was pretty dire.
The boardroom was locked; there was a solitary window, but with a thick pane. Every time Johnny went to the first floor, the former supervisor would get excited and stand near the office window, clawing at it. But Johnny was used to it now. He never flinched anymore. It wasn't June 9th anymore; it was June 23rd, and Johnny had become accustomed to living in fear and alone in the factory. What worried him the most was what he was going to do once he ran out of food and water.
Chapter Three
Pickle rubbed his hairy chin which annoyed him. He had never had a beard and was always a clean-shaven individual. His grey jogging bottoms and his black T-shirt were days old now, and he wondered when he was going to get himself a new set of clothes. For three nights they had slept in the woods, and they were now on the brink of starvation; their stomachs were empty and now they had to leave the area and venture somewhere where food was available.
The woods were reasonably quiet and the original plan was for the group to stay in there for as long as possible. The more days passed, the less chance there would be of those things to deal with, or so they hoped. But the hunger was now drawing them out.
Karen sat down and the main unpleasant experience of the woods wasn't the fear of the Snatchers, but the fact that they had to do their business with no toilet roll for the last three days; leaves were all they had, and the twenty-three-year-old former nurse was paranoid about picking up infections.
Karen watched as Paul and Jade were standing ten yards away, giggling to one another as if it was a private joke. The pair of them had become close over the last few days, but it was innocent, especially as far as Paul was concerned as his wife, Jocelyn, and his two-year-old daughter, Hannah, were constantly talked about by the thirty-one-year-old.
She put her head in her hands and Pickle asked what was wrong. "I'm thirsty," answered Karen.
"Tell me about it. I haven't drank water since the sports centre, just a coke and a bottle of vimto."
"I've been in and out of the woods for the past fortnight. I could murder a cup of tea and a hot shower."
Pickle laughed, "A cup of tea would be great. I've even thought about breaking back into my old prison."
"Seriously?"
Pickle shrugged. "There should be a generator o' some sort to keep the place goin' for a few weeks, but I suppose it'll be overrun with those things now; either that, or some gang have claimed it."
"Probably," Karen said, then winced with the pain in her head.
"What is it?"
Karen looked over to Paul and Jade who were standing ten yards away, and seemed to be involved in their own conversation. Karen put her forefingers to her temples and winced again. "It's nothing. Just a headache." She then cupped her right hand, sharply breathed into it and took a sniff of her cupped hand. "My breath smells like shit."
Pickle smiled. "Don't worry about it. We all stink."
For the last three days the four individuals had been trying to stay low, but the lack of food was beginning to entice them out. The group, after living off rations of crisps and juice, were finally running out of food, and Pickle knew that staying in the woods
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