The Dead Years Box Set | Books 1-8

by Olah, Jeff

  With the attention of the entire horde now focused on her, Savannah got to her knees and shook off the rain and debris. Assuming the commotion would have summoned Mason and Randy from wherever they happened to be, she now feared they were gone and this lone adventure would be her last. This wasn’t part of the plan. The guys should have come back by now. She couldn’t do this alone, although without a friendly face in sight, she knew she had to. Her voice caught deep in the recesses of nowhere, the only word that made sense, she shouted with everything she had. “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLP…”

  . . .

  The confusion of the single gunshot only moments before turned to dread as the woman’s cry for assistance banked off the narrow walls of the alley and exited without another sound. Fighting for position, Mason shoved Randy into the far wall, giving himself a few feet to address the almost normal-looking abomination standing directly in front of him. His friend was right, they needed to save what little advantage they had and use their weapons only when it was necessary to keep moving forward. Mason lunged feet first at the target, smashing it headfirst into the ground and motioning for Randy to follow him.

  Randy tucked away the gun once again, knelt down and grabbed a three-foot piece of wood obviously left in the scrap pile by construction workers in the days before hell visited this mini-mall. They raced to the end of the building in anticipation of what awaited them and cautiously turned the corner. The lot was a much different place than it was only five minutes earlier. The number of Feeders had increased ten-fold and although the majority of them were half inside the drug store, their focus was elsewhere. These monsters were transfixed on a new target, one that was now standing frozen halfway between the building and the RV.

  He was unable to save either of his other friends today and watching his cousin become the next victim was just not going to work for him. Randy understood that they had little chance to reach her before the horde, so with fifty yards between them; he started toward her without a real plan. Just glances at first, through the slight cracks between the mangled bodies as they all headed toward her, Randy could just make out that she was still untouched. Checking his rear, he didn’t immediately understand what Mason had in mind, although he remained focused on getting to her before they did.

  He imagined she would be torn apart just as Uncle Joe had been only weeks before, although he was certain this was not her intention when she exited the RV. His assumption was confirmed only moments later when Savannah caught a glimpse of Mason running in the direction of the storefront, avoiding contact as he went. Savannah shouted trying to get his attention, not knowing Randy was also among the rescue party. “MASON… HELP ME!”

  Breaking down each small group as he continued toward Savannah, Randy swung the damp piece of timber like a master swordsmen holding court for the royal family. Maintaining a safe distance as he moved closer, he watched as Savannah turned and started back toward the RV. “SAVANNAH, COME THIS WAY!” Bringing the horde back toward the RV would mean they’d have to fight their way back to April and Justin, whatever state he was now in. She looked in the direction of his voice; only the crowd was far too dense for her to make out exactly where he was.

  Between the two men and the commotion they caused, the majority of the Feeders once targeting Savannah broke free and went for whichever man was closest. By the threes and fours they carried on with bum legs, severed arms and badly decomposed torsos, bumping into one another as they shuffled along trying to find a way to round up their next meal.

  Once he felt he had sufficiently broken up the growing horde, Mason hurried back to Randy still struggling to get to Savannah. As she scurried back and forth across the lot screaming for help, Mason came in behind and grabbed Randy by the collar and pointed to the crowd. “Now.” Raising the nine millimeter, he said, “It’s time.” He fired the first shot and waited for Randy to follow his lead. Both men squeezed off a couple rounds into the crowd, making sure with each shot that Savannah was free from the line of fire.

  With the first few down and a clear path to Savannah only a few Feeders away, Randy broke right and allowed Mason to finish off what he could before running out of ammunition. He wanted to save what he could for any last-minute defense they may need to mount. Rushing around back and only focused on getting to her before they did, Randy’s left foot skipped off a concrete parking block, sending him to the asphalt.

  Sprinting from side to side for what seemed an eternity, although it was closer to sixty seconds, she was now cornered and out of gas. Savannah couldn’t run any more. Her heart pounded faster with each pass, but she dared not use her gun for fear of an errant bullet ending up in either of the two men trying to save her. With Randy now on the ground, she was terrified that all three of them had just seen their last battle. To her right, having just fired his last round, Mason was also out of answers. He couldn’t get past the last row of attackers and the few that broke off from the pack now came for him.

  She was probably going to die anyway, even if she’d stayed in the RV. Justin was going to turn at some point and since no one had the guts to even admit what was going to happen to him, let alone do what was necessary when the time came, they’d all probably perish in that damned rolling tin can. At least out here she could fight and that’s what she intended to do. She saw an opening to the right and in one final burst; she sped off away from both her cousin and Mason. As her feet skipped across the wet asphalt it sounded like a snare drum at half pace, although a slightly more annoying metal on metal sound reminded her of what was still in her pocket.

  With her last act, she’d put little more than a thirty foot buffer between herself and the broken horde. As she came to an abrupt stop near the trash dumpster, Savannah reached into the front pocket of her sweatshirt and withdrew a single grenade.

  72

  The space inside the RV was painfully quiet. The heavy downpour had all but stopped and she was scared, much more than she’d ever been. April was resigned to the fact that her life was in its final hours and that didn’t bother her. She was scared for her son and what was happening to him. He hadn’t changed, other than the coma-like trance that he was under and that held her tighter than anything outside ever could. Justin would wake up sooner or later and the decision left for her was one she was unwilling and most certainly unable to make.

  As the sound of the first few shots made its way to her, April decided not to turn her attention away from her boy to check. She knew that Mason and Randy could handle themselves and if they failed she didn’t want to know. She had accepted her bleak future whether they made it back or not. She watched as Justin’s chest rose and fell once again and continued to count the breaks in between. One…Two… Three…

  Nine… Ten… Eleven…She knew this wasn’t right, although she had no idea what it all meant. Was he dying? Was he healing? Was his body fighting the infection or succumbing it? April’s mothering instinct had been to rush him off to the pediatrician at the first sign of a runny nose so this, whatever it was, brought her to the edge. There were no more doctors, and even if there were, she was sure their situation would be just as dire. No one could help.

  Justin’s early accident and subsequent recovery left her unable to answer many questions as he progressed through the years academically. She decided not to question it and simply thanked the heavens every time her boy was recognized for his excellence. April often envisioned herself seated in the front row of some Ivy League School watching Justin walk across the stage to accept his diploma. Until two weeks ago, she’d always thought that it was only a matter of time before her dream materialized. Now she was preparing to say goodbye to that dream, as well as to her son.

  The violence trailed off. The gunshots had stopped, the screaming subsided as well and April wanted to finally see what was taking place outside the RV. Turning away from Justin and drawing back the window coverings, she could only make out one familiar face. Bodies littered the lot like hotdog wrappers and sodas after a movie. The
mall now illuminated in flames backlit the entire area giving perspective to an already ominous scene.

  Not more than thirty feet from the RV, Savannah appeared to be cornered by a small group of Feeders and continued to back away, struggling with something in her hands. Off in the distance she saw what she imagined were Randy and Mason flanking opposite sides of the crowd. They appeared to be making progress and slowly pushed forward through the last remaining members of the horde and more importantly toward Savannah.

  . . .

  She’d given up, at least that was the impression he sensed as he pushed to stand, his eyes glued to her from the time he hit the ground. Randy promised himself he’d get this group to safety and so far he’d failed. The three of them were stuck outside battling these incessant monsters, while April was left to figure things out for herself back in the RV. Their little family was on the brink of extinction. Now more than ever they needed help—help that was long overdue and despite the immutable law of averages, was more than likely not coming.

  Two quick glints from the metallic safety pull ring Savannah held in her left hand caught his eye. She must have brought with her one of the handheld explosives and had no idea what to do with it. He could only assume what she had planned as she left the RV. Randy imagined her pulling the pin and because of her current situation, dropping it too close and taking fragments from the blast or something worse. As he ran to her, he began shouting, “NO… NO… SAVANNAH!” She pulled the pin and stepped back away from the closing crowd.

  Almost as quickly as Randy realized the gravity of what was happening, Mason, directly across the lot also saw the need for urgency. Weaving his way through the remaining Feeders and the dimly lit parking lot, he yelled to Savannah. “PULL THE PIN… DROP IT… AND RUN!”

  Looking down at the tattered green metal oval in her hand and frozen stiff, she hadn’t a clue how long she had to vacate the immediate area once she pulled the pin. As the crowd grew closer, she took another step back toward the RV and only half heard the instructions shouted from either side of the lot. The voices from the men hurrying in her direction mostly cancelled one another out. From watching the old black and white military dramas with her usually drunk cousins, she remembered a few of the basics. The stiff characters and horrendous special effects aside, discharging the weapon she held should be simple.

  Not knowing what was left in the pistol and with no time to reload, Randy took out only the Feeders that posed an immediate threat of him getting to Savannah. They finally made eye contact and with only one small group between them, she pulled the pin. Shaking and confused she looked at Randy with cowed eyes, lowered her head and began to weep.

  She didn’t want to die, although being torn apart by these animals that lived to devour anything in their path wasn’t within her to accept. Savannah also wanted a say in whether or not she walked the earth as something other than a human. This was going to be her decision, it was the only thing she had control over in the last two weeks.

  Emptying what remained in the clip into the few Feeders between himself and Savannah, Randy could only watch as she slowly unclasped her hand and let the lone grenade drop to the asphalt. He knew from experience that they most likely had only a few seconds before detonation. Not wasting any time, he grabbed her by the shirt collar and dove behind the metal dumpster just to the left of the RV. Looking back just as the grenade lit the entire area like a spotlight, Randy saw Mason turn, cover his head and run in the opposite direction.

  The concussion slammed the dumpster into the pair as they were blasted backward, ears ringing with pain. Their attackers, who only moments before numbered eight, were now simply fragmented torsos, arms, legs and badly decomposed heads that littered the rain-soaked parking lot.

  Thrown six feet in the opposite direction while being battered with parts unknown, Mason’s eardrums didn’t fare any better. The loud buzz that caused him to rub the side of his head began to fade as Savannah’s screams pulled him back to reality. Getting to his feet, Mason turned and through the smoke noticed not one Feeder within thirty feet was still standing and as an added bonus, the explosion had confused the others, sending them back toward the shops.

  Joining Randy, they pulled Savannah to her feet, placed her arms on their shoulders and quickly vacated the area.

  Helping her step up into the RV, Mason turned to Randy, not quite fully believing they survived the last few minutes, and said, “Complete waste.”

  Randy, for the first time in days managed a tiny grin. “Not exactly,” he said.

  73

  More than ten seconds had passed since his last breath and Justin was still motionless on the master bed at the rear of the RV. The door quickly opened startling her, even though she witnessed everything that had happened outside and watched as they strode back to the RV. This was their home, for now anyways, whether they liked it or not. April moved to the door and stood by in silence as the three entered and sat at the table. Mason pulled his wife in close and whispered into her ear. “I love you. I’m sorry for leaving you.”

  She said nothing.

  They were painted head to toe in blood and still dripping wet from the rain that had hammered the area for the last few hours. Looking around April and into the room where his son had been since they left the stadium, Mason asked, “How is he?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m very worried.”

  “We all are. We don’t know what…” Mason said.

  April interrupted, already knowing where he was headed. “He’s shutting down.”

  “Whadda ya mean?”

  “His breathing is slowing down. He’s only taking a few breaths every minute. Like five or six, that’s not normal. If it slows down any more, I’m afraid he’ll just stop.”

  “I’m at a loss April, I’m not sure what to do. What else can we do but wait?”

  Stepping in from behind, Randy motioned toward the front of the RV. “How quick do you think we can get to the house from here?”

  April wiped away a few errant tears before speaking. “Probably five minutes or so, it’s only a few miles past the airport. This shopping center wasn’t here the last time we came through. It kind of threw me off.”

  “OK, we need to go.”

  “Wait,” Mason said. “What’s your plan? What are you thinking?”

  “When we get there... I’ll fill you in when we get there.”

  Turning, Randy didn’t wait for Mason to respond. Still dripping, he dragged his wet body through the dimly lit interior of the RV and moved back in to the cab. Sliding into the driver’s seat, his clothes stuck to the seat as he took a drawn out moment to gather his thoughts. Still neatly pre-packed in their plastic home just waiting for use, he pulled three syringes from his pocket. One was crushed beyond repair and would be of no use. The other two appeared fine and remarkably had survived the trip from the drug store.

  Thus far, the stench that clung to every inch of his body hadn’t necessarily bothered him, although now it was the only thing that occupied his thoughts. An uneasy turn in the pit of his stomach shifted into a nauseous stream of bile. It began to creep up the back of his throat as he hastily swung the door open and hopped out.

  Hands firmly placed on his knees, he braced himself as the contents of his stomach exited his body violently. After the first few wicked heaves he was drained, not an ounce of anything remained inside. Lifting his head and quickly scanning the area for Feeders, he gave in once again as his body thrashed about, forcing him to dry heave until he finally dropped to the ground exhausted. Looking up once again, this time from his back sprawled out on the asphalt, he saw Mason craning his neck through the driver’s door. “You gonna make it bud?”

  “Yeah, just somethin’ needed to get out, I guess.”

  Mason looked around the lot, noticing the absence of any new threat before hopping out and giving his friend a hand, careful not to step in the mess Randy left behind as a memento of their visit. “Let’s go, we gotta get to the house.” />
  “Alright,” Randy said.

  Stepping back in first, Mason turned to watch as Randy’s hammered body boarded the RV once again. Randy kicked free the last few scraps of red sludge that held tight to his right shoe, not quite sure if it came from his earlier battle or his more recent internal struggle. Either way, this was the last of his concerns. He knew the plan rolling around in his mind was a longshot and dreaded trying to explain it to Mason. Hell, he didn’t much think it would work, although they needed to do something for the poor boy. He wasn’t getting any worse… he also wasn’t getting any better.

  The uneasiness they had for what Justin was currently going through only exacerbated the tension of what was to come. No one spoke for fear the conversation would turn to the possibilities of what they’d do if he woke up. They all knew; they just didn’t speak it. As a group, the things they’d seen in the last two weeks made normal conversation nearly impossible. The uncertainty of their next move left the group in silence as Randy fired up the engine and turned back to the highway.

  Climbing the on-ramp, he flipped on the headlights. The lack of stalled vehicles and decaying corpses in the area indicated that this stretch of road must have been fairly deserted when the infection rolled through. Randy pushed the RV to a comfortable cruising speed, only losing focus temporarily to listen for his next direction.

  Passing the airstrip to the left, their trip was nearing an end as Randy cut the lights and quietly pulled the RV to the shoulder. Looking toward the sky, he cut the engine and held his right hand up asking for silence.

  Mason hurried through the interior cabin, leaving April in the rear and passing Savannah as she sat at the main table. “What’s going on?”

  “Shhhhhh… Listen.”

  Mason, mimicking his friend, also lowered his voice. “Listen to what, the rain?”