Snatchers 2: The Dead Don't Sleep by Shaun Whittington Page A
Authors: Shaun Whittington
Tags: Zombies
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begun to hear the groan of the van's engine and began to wave both his arms, the way a stranded individual on a desert island would when seeing a boat pass by.
To his credit, he never jumped in the middle of the road as he waved his arms. He remained at the side while trying to flag the van down, giving Karen the option to drive past if that was the option she preferred. Impressed by the fact that the man kept to the side of the road, she decided to pick him up. She reduced the speed of the van and eventually made the vehicle come to a stop.
She wound the window down, to be stared at by a flustered and tired looking man. He was bald, had a few days growth on his face, and was dressed in casual clothes. He beamed at the twenty-three-year-old former nurse; it was a welcoming and relieved smile, and she responded by doing the same.
"Where you headed?" she asked.
He replied, "I was just gonna try one of the houses for refuge." He pointed over to the village. The man glared at the van with confusion and then stared at Karen. He threw his hands in the air. "I'll go anywhere, away from those things. Where did you get this van?"
"Never mind. I got a place for now, a quiet street. I think most of the people have left, as there're hardly any cars there. Wanna jump in?"
"Really?" The man seemed amazed at the offer and never hesitated to open the passenger door. He made himself comfortable and looked at Karen Bradley with a thankful stare.
"I'm Karen."
He held out his hand. "George. George Jones." He looked around the inside of the vehicle, still baffled how a young woman was driving a prison van.
Chapter Nineteen
It took two of them to pick Gary up off of the floor and lean him over the table. The right side of his face was pressed against the cold table, with his wrists tied tightly. The leaning over the table was stretching and hurting his back, as well as his wrists. If his mouth wasn't taped over, he could have told them that he wasn't made of plasticine.
He did try, but loud muffles to Kasper and Hector sounded like cries of protest, and he was constantly punched on the back by an irate Kasper who told him on three occasions to shut the fuck up.
Paul and Jack remained huddled in the corner of the canteen. Jack was facing away, but Paul couldn't help himself, despite the scolding he got from Kasper earlier about not being able to perform in front of an audience. Paul Parker was leaning against the wall and sneaked a look at the men, who had now taken down Gary's trousers. Paul still writhed and twisted his joints to be free from the rope, despite feeling like his wrists were on fire, and even more motivation and adrenaline surged through him as he witnessed Kasper dropping his own trousers and squeezing the jelly onto his hands. Paul had to look away when Kasper dropped his briefs and knew that he had entered Gary, from the awful, distressed, muffled cries from his friend.
Paul peeped for a second and could see that both Kasper and Hector were engrossed in the event. Paul thought it was strange that Kasper announced previously that he didn't want an audience, but was quite willing for Hector to witness the savage maltreatment. Maybe they had done this before.
As Paul desperately tried to untangle himself, he could hear over the muffled cries of Gary Jenson, Jack, humming loudly to himself. It seemed to be a dismal attempt to drown out Gary's cries for help. As Gary moaned in fear and pain with each hard pounding he took, Paul winced and couldn't imagine how painful and degrading the action must have been, and knew if he didn't hurry up, he would soon get to know for himself how it would feel.
At last the rope came free, and Paul nervously looked over to the two men and placed the rope over his wrists to make it look like he was still tied, as he was sure that he didn't have time to tackle his ankles as it looked like Hector was coming over.
The red-cap-wearing forty-six-year-old vagrant, walked past the table
To his credit, he never jumped in the middle of the road as he waved his arms. He remained at the side while trying to flag the van down, giving Karen the option to drive past if that was the option she preferred. Impressed by the fact that the man kept to the side of the road, she decided to pick him up. She reduced the speed of the van and eventually made the vehicle come to a stop.
She wound the window down, to be stared at by a flustered and tired looking man. He was bald, had a few days growth on his face, and was dressed in casual clothes. He beamed at the twenty-three-year-old former nurse; it was a welcoming and relieved smile, and she responded by doing the same.
"Where you headed?" she asked.
He replied, "I was just gonna try one of the houses for refuge." He pointed over to the village. The man glared at the van with confusion and then stared at Karen. He threw his hands in the air. "I'll go anywhere, away from those things. Where did you get this van?"
"Never mind. I got a place for now, a quiet street. I think most of the people have left, as there're hardly any cars there. Wanna jump in?"
"Really?" The man seemed amazed at the offer and never hesitated to open the passenger door. He made himself comfortable and looked at Karen Bradley with a thankful stare.
"I'm Karen."
He held out his hand. "George. George Jones." He looked around the inside of the vehicle, still baffled how a young woman was driving a prison van.
Chapter Nineteen
It took two of them to pick Gary up off of the floor and lean him over the table. The right side of his face was pressed against the cold table, with his wrists tied tightly. The leaning over the table was stretching and hurting his back, as well as his wrists. If his mouth wasn't taped over, he could have told them that he wasn't made of plasticine.
He did try, but loud muffles to Kasper and Hector sounded like cries of protest, and he was constantly punched on the back by an irate Kasper who told him on three occasions to shut the fuck up.
Paul and Jack remained huddled in the corner of the canteen. Jack was facing away, but Paul couldn't help himself, despite the scolding he got from Kasper earlier about not being able to perform in front of an audience. Paul Parker was leaning against the wall and sneaked a look at the men, who had now taken down Gary's trousers. Paul still writhed and twisted his joints to be free from the rope, despite feeling like his wrists were on fire, and even more motivation and adrenaline surged through him as he witnessed Kasper dropping his own trousers and squeezing the jelly onto his hands. Paul had to look away when Kasper dropped his briefs and knew that he had entered Gary, from the awful, distressed, muffled cries from his friend.
Paul peeped for a second and could see that both Kasper and Hector were engrossed in the event. Paul thought it was strange that Kasper announced previously that he didn't want an audience, but was quite willing for Hector to witness the savage maltreatment. Maybe they had done this before.
As Paul desperately tried to untangle himself, he could hear over the muffled cries of Gary Jenson, Jack, humming loudly to himself. It seemed to be a dismal attempt to drown out Gary's cries for help. As Gary moaned in fear and pain with each hard pounding he took, Paul winced and couldn't imagine how painful and degrading the action must have been, and knew if he didn't hurry up, he would soon get to know for himself how it would feel.
At last the rope came free, and Paul nervously looked over to the two men and placed the rope over his wrists to make it look like he was still tied, as he was sure that he didn't have time to tackle his ankles as it looked like Hector was coming over.
The red-cap-wearing forty-six-year-old vagrant, walked past the table
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