Snatchers (Book 3): The Dead Don't Cry by Shaun Whittington Page B

Paul was going to suggest for the pair of them to part their ways. Paul walked over to the fragile, young lady and gave her a hug. Once their embrace was broken and Jade managed to pull herself together, she asked, "How far is it to your house from here?"
    Paul Parker shrugged his shoulders and released a false smile. "With travelling in that pick-up truck, and then running about a mile in the woods away from those four arseholes, I have no idea where we are and what direction we should be heading. I'm guessing we're about four or five miles away from my village."
    "So we need to find a road."
    "Yes," Paul agreed. "There's a good chance I could recognise the road, and even if I don't, we should eventually approach a junction. Junctions usually have road signs to state which village is what way and how many miles it takes to get there."
    "So do you wanna head back the way we came from?"
    "No I don't," he said sharply. "I think we should go that way," he pointed to his right, "and see where it takes us."
    He walked on, with Jade following behind. Their tired feet were dragging through the long grass and bracken, and once they finally came across a dirt path, it made their walk a little easier.
    Jade ran her fingers through her dark, greasy hair and pulled a face that was the same kind of expression one would show if they had tasted a bitter lemon. Her fingers struggled through her hair, and her expression was made because of how greasy and unkempt her hair had become from days of not washing and sleeping rough in the woodland.
    Her eyes stared at her feet as she walked on the dirt path, and she felt a sudden slap on her chest from Paul who was in front of her.
    "Ow!" Jade rubbed her chest and looked up at Paul. "What was that for?"
    Paul shushed the twenty-five-year-old and urged her to crouch down behind him. She did as she was instructed, and followed him as he crawled off the dirt path and hid behind a tree. He then pointed ahead of him and she took a gander; her eyes widened when it was clear what she was now witnessing.
    There was nine Lurkers—a name Paul gave them—about a hundred yards away. They appeared to be walking away from Paul and Jade, and they had no idea where they were going and where they had come from. They both continued to watch as the small gang of the dead stumbled, very slowly, away from the two hiding humans.
    Paul turned to Jade. "We'll keep away from the paths for a few minutes, until they're gone. When we're on the paths, we're more exposed and less hidden."
    Jade silently agreed with head movement.
    The two of them slowly walked through the long grass and Paul whispered to Jade, "Once they're completely away from view, we can get back on the path and head that way." He pointed to the right.
    Jade giggled nervously a little, and asked Paul, "Why are you whispering? They're almost out of sight."
    Paul had managed a smile himself; it was a smile Jade hadn't seen in a while, and he puffed out his lower lip and shook his head. "I have no idea."
    "You're not right in the head," Jade joked.
    "I don't think many survivors are these days, not what after some of us have seen."
    Paul's comment had quickly crushed the light entertainment they were experiencing. It wasn't intentional; it just slipped out.
    Jade then suddenly heard a snap to her left, where Paul was situated, and heard the thirty-one-year-old cry out and fall to the ground. Paul was on the floor holding his right foot. "Bastard poachers!" he screamed. "Get it off!"
    Jade scanned around and began to panic. She had no idea what he was talking about and what was actually happening. "Get what off?"
    Paul screamed out again, and this time Jade shushed the man that was in excruciating pain. Paul Parker raised his foot a little to reveal that his body part had been the victim of a coil-spring animal trap. He couldn't raise his foot any higher as the chain of the trap was hammered into the ground with a metal peg.
    "What shall I do? What shall I do?"