Snatchers 2: The Dead Don't Sleep Read Online Free PDF Page B

do," he chortled, and inspected the inside of the house. Karen locked the door behind him and the first thing she did was put the kettle on, and placed a teabag in each mug. "At least the electric's still on." After spending a few days at the top of a multi-storey car park, they had often peered over the concrete wall to look out to the West Midland area. Only a handful of solitary lights could be seen in the distance, which suggested to the pair of them at the time that people were either keeping the lights off to avoid unnecessary attention, or, in some areas, if not the whole area, the electrics had gone down.
    "Don't yer think we should search the house first?" Pickle asked. "If the Range Rover's still here, they could be hiding upstairs."
    "You go ahead, I'm parched."
    Pickle shook his head, but didn't react to Karen's unbothered approach. They were both drenched with sluggishness, and had a few long days of doing nothing but kicking their heels on top of the multi-storey car park. The boredom at the time was worse than being in prison, and strangely enough, Pickle found the monotony harder to handle than Karen, who would sometimes sit on the floor with her legs crossed for hours and stare into nothingness and lose herself.
    He took out Karen's two Brownings—that were technically his , but she had 'adopted' them—and placed them on the table as she waited for the kettle to boil.
    Pickle carried his shotgun with both hands in preparation for anything untoward that could occur from upstairs. He walked through the living room and went up the stairs rapidly. He was convinced the house was empty, but a niggling voice in the back of his mind still forced him to err the side of caution. As he reached the landing, he used every last ounce of concentration to scan the area. He looked to the left and right as if he was about to cross a main road.
    He opened the bathroom door. Nothing.
    He opened the main bedroom. Nothing.
    The other two bedrooms looked to have been occupied by two young girls as the first bedroom had posters of Minnie Mouse and Daisy Duck, suggesting that the girls was under the age of five or six. The other bedroom had a bed that wasn't made; it was a complete mess, and a huge poster of Robert Pattinson glared at Pickle. He jokingly snarled back at the poster and wondered what happened to the family.
    Satisfied that the house was vacant, he shut every bedroom door, stood his shotgun against the door of the main bedroom and began immediately running himself a bath. He trotted back downstairs and was handed a hot cup of tea by Karen.
    "Ah," he exaggerated, as he supped on the piping hot beverage. "Heaven."
    He took another slurp of the hot beverage and looked around the kitchen.
    "Everything okay upstairs?" Karen quizzed.
    "Seems to be, but the car outside is still bothering me."
    "Maybe they ran out on foot."
    "Maybe. But why leave a vehicle like that? It's solid. It would have been perfect."
    "Maybe there were too many of the Snatchers lurking around the vehicle."
    "But there's no sign of panic. I mean the doors were locked when we arrived. Surely a door would be left ajar if you're gonna flee a scene in panic? There's no marks on the windows from the things trying to get in; the panes are spotless."
    Karen's eyes narrowed in confusion, and put her cup down onto the side next to the metal kettle. "Tell me something."
    "What?"
    "Did you check the attic?"
    Pickle's eyes enlarged and his eyebrows travelled further towards the top of his scalp; as his mouth slowly opened, the bottom part of his mandible lowered like a drawbridge. He shook his head.
    "We'll check later." Karen then nodded above her, where the sound of running water was coming from. "Bath?"
    Pickle nodded with embarrassment. "I'll fill it with cold water once I'm done. I know it's selfish, but it could be my last ever one, albeit cold."
    Karen grinned cheekily. "You do stink a bit."
    "Cheeky bitch."

Chapter Seven
     
    "Where're you going?" Jason