Snatchers (Book 7): The Dead Don't Yield Read Free

up paranoia amongst some people. Who was good and who was bad? Were they letting in people that could possibly cause danger from within the camp?
    Pickle held out his hands and smirked when he saw the little finger from the left hand missing. Sometimes he'd forget about it. At least his nose was better.
    He went into the kitchen and took a plastic bottle from one of the cupboards and sat back down again in the living room. He took a swig of water from a plastic bottle and looked up to the ceiling. He could hear the gentle thuds moving about and smiled to himself; his friend had woken up. He could hear the footsteps of the female making her way down to the ground floor. The door to the living room opened and Branston gave the woman a smile as she entered.
    "I'm freezin' my tits off in this place," she huffed, and walked past Pickle and went into the kitchen.
    Pickle chuckled, "Morning, Karen."
     
    *
     
    "Are you looking forward to seeing Rosemary today, son?"
    Paul Dickson never received an answer from his son, Kyle, and looked over to the other side of the bed. Both father and son were lying in the double bed, both staring up at the ceiling. Paul tried again. "Big chap?"
    Kyle snapped out of his self-hypnosis and said, not answering his father's question, "How long do we have to stay here?"
    Paul sat up and stared at Kyle. He looked crestfallen and was sure that it wasn't just to do with having no mummy and little sister anymore. "What is it?"
    Kyle shrugged, tears welling in the bottom of his eyes.
    "Don't you like it here?"
    Kyle, once more, never responded verbally, and shook his head. Paul guessed that Kyle wasn't being ignorant, he was just too choked to speak. Something was bothering him.
    Paul queried, "Don't you like the maths and reading classes with Rosemary? Lisa seems to enjoy it. I know Rosemary's not a proper teacher—"
    "I miss everyone," Kyle spoke with a whisper, then lay back down.
    Paul was sure that he did miss everyone, so did he . But something else was bothering his seven-year-old, and Paul didn't want to push the subject in case both males came to blows.
    It could wait for now.

Chapter Four
     
    Karen Bradley took a walk along the empty stretch of road, and looked to her left. There were dozens upon dozens of burnt bodies in a pile, near the Lea Hall building, and she was told that they were planning on doing something about that situation in the next few weeks.
    Since Lee had been informed that she was pregnant, she had predictably been told that she would have no job to do and that she shouldn't lift a finger. It was frustrating, but she knew it was going to happen. She accepted it without kicking up a fuss, but she thought that at least some kind of stock-taking job could be done.
    She looked all around and could hardly see a soul. There were over a hundred people in the area, but because it was large it would sometimes look inhabited in the afternoon when everybody was up and awake. She knew that it was early, but there was still at least eight bodies on the two barriers, and some worked inside the Lea Hall building to see how the food situation was. That was the job that she wanted.
    The farmers from the Spode Cottage stayed on the fields and had spent days building pens for the animals, with the help of Vince, which were fed by some of the bored youngsters to give them a feeling of self-worth. It was going to take time before that part of the set-up was going to be as good as the last one, but at least the fields were bigger.
    A young man strolled across the road and held up his hand as a greeting to Karen. Daniel Badcock approached Karen with a big grin on his face. "Morning."
    She responded, "Morning."
    Both individuals knew each other from secondary school, and had occasional chats with one another since Karen and the rest had moved in. Karen felt comfortable in Daniel's company. He was a genuine nice guy and never seemed to have an hidden agenda with his niceness. With the exception of