The Dead Years Box Set | Books 1-8

by Olah, Jeff

  201

  The main level of the garage spanned the length of the west side of the building. Eighty yards of openness, save for the seven vehicles. The interspersed concrete columns drove up from the concrete floor and into the ceiling twelve feet above. With nearly thirty foot gaps between them, the men would take turns moving from one column to the next. This was the intermittent cover that would allow them close proximity to the stairwell.

  Randy had no intentions of stalling another second and with the plan laid out, he took the lead. Grabbing the walkie from the front seat, he nodded toward the far side of the garage near the entrance and watched as Brian and Jack quickly beat a path toward the walled perimeter.

  Thirty seconds later, they were in position and crouched behind the final column.

  Engaging the talk button, Randy spoke in whispers. “You guys good? See any reason to hold off?”

  Static and then… “Yeah, we’re ready; it looks clear from over here.”

  Randy lowered the mic’s volume and slid the walkie into his back pocket. He nodded to Mason and watched as his friend made short work of the thirty foot gap. He was next and kept low with his eyes focused on the twin SUVs and the door to the stairwell.

  Catching Mason at the third column, Randy laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Brian’s going to be a problem. Something’s not right with him since we left.”

  “Yeah,” Mason said. “He’s been pretty obvious about it.”

  Staying low, Randy looked back toward the entrance. “Just keep an eye on him; I don’t want him or Jack screwing this up.”

  “Jack’s okay and I don’t think we’ll have a problem with Brian. He’s probably just still in shock from what happened. I’ll watch him closely, though.”

  Randy nodded and spoke into the walkie. “Brian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re going for the stairs; be ready to go in thirty seconds.”

  “Jack and I are ready now. Let’s do this.”

  Randy went first with Mason watching his back as they moved from one immense concrete pillar to the next. At the last column before the SUVs, and beyond that the door to the stairs, Mason caught a glimpse of the day’s first light. The sun still hadn’t yet reached out and touched the eastern sky. Although buried just below the horizon, it notified the land of its presence.

  Unable to detect the exact time, Mason figured they had less than a half hour before daylight robbed what little advantage they held. As Randy covered the remaining ground and stood just feet from the SUVs, Mason moved from the last column and stayed low as he ran the last forty feet.

  Surprisingly winded, Mason put his hands on his knees and pulled in deep breaths of air. He turned to Randy and shook his head. “What the hell, when did we get so old?”

  “Speak for yourself; I could do this all day long. And I don’t think it has to do with your age there buddy.”

  “No?”

  “Mason, when was the last time you slept?”

  “Last night in the car, right before those idiots ran us off the road. I guess it didn’t help that I was pulled out of my dream by falling into the ocean.”

  “Speaking of which, Jack tells me you pulled Lockwood and Savannah both out of the water.”

  “Just kind of acted on instinct,” Mason said. “It really is all a blur at this point.”

  “I thought you hated the ocean?”

  “Not the ocean, just cold water. And yes, it was freezing.”

  “Well, thank you… for Savannah. Thanks for doing what needed to be done. You ready for this?”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” Mason said.

  Randy keyed the walkie and paused for a moment. “Brian, hold off for a bit. Mason and I will check these SUVs and then at least get into the building. We’ll call for you then.”

  “No Randy. We’re sticking with the plan; Jack and I are on our way.”

  His tone intensified, although the volume remained at a whisper as Randy barked back into the mic. “Brian, not yet damn it, we need cover from behind. Stay put.”

  Nothing, only static.

  Randy looked over to Mason and shook his head. “He’s gonna get someone killed.”

  Moving slowly to the corner and then beyond, Randy led the way as they peered back into the empty garage. Anything beyond sixty feet was out of range and lost to the backdrop of the darkened garage. Squinting, Randy was just able to make out the silhouette of the entrance and the vehicles he and his friends had driven into the city.

  One strikingly slow step at a time, they grew closer to the pair of white SUVs. Within ten feet only shadows were visible through the tinted rear and side windows. Randy nodded toward the second SUV and moved left around the first as they lost sight of one another.

  Hands cupped, Randy put his face within inches of the driver’s side window and looked in. The usual, nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he moved beyond the driver door and pulled the piece of paper from the windshield.

  Mason rounded the passenger side of the second SUV and noticed the handwritten note Randy held out in front of him. “What is it? Any hints as to who these things belong to?”

  Randy smiled. “Not really who these people are, but maybe when they are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mason asked. “When they are?”

  “This note was left for someone else, and from the looks of it we may have walked into the middle of—”

  Two cylindrical beams of light originated just west of the parking garage. As they became one and hurtled through the open space, the reflection settled on Mason face. He held his hands over his eyes and squinted as Randy dropped the note onto the hood of the SUV. As it slid toward him, the paper revealed what Mason had yet to understand.

  “Checking on the west side. We’ll be back in an hour.”

  202

  As the ten foot cargo van turned onto the ramp leading to the parking garage, Brian and Jack ran out of the shadows, joining Mason and Randy. The four men could do nothing but watch as the white van turned right twice and slid to a stop just past the destroyed security vehicles.

  Their own SUV blocked from view and with it their remaining friends, Randy closed his eyes and listened. The door on the opposite side of the van opened. Two or maybe three voices barking orders at Lockwood, Sean, and Savannah, no other voices and then the unmistakable sound of the cargo van’s main door slamming shut.

  As the van pushed into reverse and began backing toward the exit, Mason broke into a dead sprint, followed closely by Randy. Brian and Jack had yet to react and were still somewhat confused by what was taking place.

  Fifty feet from their own vehicles, Mason turned to see Randy less than six strides behind him and Brian doing his best to also cover the distance. Jack had yet to move and was bent at the waist with his hands on his knees, supporting his heaving upper body.

  Reaching his SUV, Mason moved to the driver’s side and called out for the keys. Randy questioned the move, although relented as time wouldn’t support the discussion. Sliding in behind the wheel, Mason took the keys and fired up the engine as Randy climbed into the back seat, reaching for one of the rifles.

  Motioning back toward Brian as he climbed into the truck behind them and then to Jack, Mason said, “What do we do about those two?”

  “We’ve got bigger problems,” Randy said. “And I told them to stay put.”

  “We’ll lose them for sure and when we do, there’s not much chance we’ll be able find them. You good with that?”

  “They didn’t follow directions, so they’re on their own. We have to be good with it. We don’t have a choice.”

  Shifting into drive, Mason shoved the gas pedal to the floor and pulled the wheel to the left. Smoke lifted from the rear wheels as the SUV completed the U-turn and raced back toward the entrance.

  Settling into the back seat and readying the rifle, Randy peered back through the rear window and saw Jack drop to the pavement. “Jack’s down.”

 
“Brian will go back for him,” Mason said. “They’re just gonna have to come find us.”

  Down the entrance ramp and into the street, Mason pushed the SUV along the empty city street, just catching a glimpse of the van as it turned right three long blocks ahead. “Randy, you do realize Lockwood isn’t an actual medical doctor, right?”

  “Are you serious?” Randy asked. “I’ve known the man for damn near eight years. I think I’d have an idea of who he is. And medical doctor or not, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be wrong about anything… ever. Jack’s gonna be fine.”

  Passing the second cross-street and turning to find Randy also focused out the front windshield, Mason cranked the headlights to life. “Was it this street coming up? Is that where they turned?”

  “Yeah,” Randy said. “But you may want to slow down a bit; you won’t make the corner at this speed.”

  Driving straight toward the corner, Mason jumped the curb and glided right, then back down into the street. Less than one hundred yards behind the van, Mason again punched the gas. “I got it; you just keep your eyes open. I don’t want to lose these guys.”

  As the van made another right and Mason approached the turn, he looked back in the opposite direction. The monstrous horde from earlier again muddled the long city block, although for the next several minutes, they would be of little concern.

  Cutting the corner and again jumping the curb, Randy held tight to the passenger seat in front of him as Mason reached back. “I dropped my nine and can’t find it; I’m gonna need another one.”

  As the SUV again began to gain momentum, Randy turned and reached behind the rear seat, coming back empty handed. “They’re gone, the bags are gone. We’ve got this rifle and whatever’s lying around the front seat.”

  Flipping on his high beams, Mason took his foot off the gas and slowly pushed down on the brake pedal. “Here we go.”

  Sitting forward from the rear bench seat, Randy saw it too. The white van, not more than fifty yards ahead, rolled up next to the curb and stopped. Three individuals, not identifiable at this distance, moved across the sidewalk and disappeared into the building. And as Mason pushed in closer, the van sat unmoving.

  “Well?” Randy said.

  “Well, what?”

  “Let’s go get them. They couldn’t have gone far.”

  Pointing the SUV toward the other side of the street, Mason pulled to within twenty feet of the van and stopped along the opposite curb. Randy reached for the passenger door, although Mason caught him and nodded to the right. “Bring the rifle, but be careful. Our people may still be in the van.”

  Feeling through the darkness as Randy slid out of the rear door; Mason found his weapon and also stepped out. With the smashed out windows of the former high priced coffee shop at their backs, The pair stayed in the shadows and watched the van for any movement. “Stay against the wall,” Mason said. “Let’s circle the van and come from the front.”

  Their eagerness to sprint across the street and overtake the van had to be dialed back. Mason held up his right hand and pointed to the still standing bus stop just a few feet ahead of the van. “Alright, let’s go.”

  One last quick scan of the street and then the pair moved to the bus stop, although something above stirred. As they reached the covered bench, Mason moved side to side, attempting to get a clear line of sight into the van. “It looks empty, but we don’t have time to check. I’ll take the left side.”

  Mason stayed low and moved to the passenger side. Passing the surprisingly clear windshield, he could see that the van was now empty. Around the rear of the van and then completing the pass to the driver’s side, he looked to Randy and followed his friends gaze back to the building. “Savannah.”

  The first light of day threatened to invade the deep reaches of the parking garage as he turned the key and stepped on the gas. Brian maneuvered the truck through the empty lot, weaving through the maze of forgotten pillars. Within twenty yards of his friend, the reflection in his rearview mirror caused his already climbing heart rate to double. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  Exiting the truck, Brian ran the short distance to Jack while continuing to watch the entrance. Kneeling over his friend, Brian spoke quickly and with an increased volume as the seconds pressed on. “Let’s go buddy,” he said slapping Jack’s cheeks. “I need you to wake up.”

  Back in the direction he’d come, the situation at the ramp appeared to escalate much beyond the time he needed to prepare for it. He had less than thirty seconds to fix the problem he’d created almost twenty-four hours earlier.

  Sliding his index and middle finger along Jack’s neckline, he came across a weakened pulse. Without hesitation, Brian dropped his right knee, slid his arms under his friend and lifted him onto his shoulder. “Sorry Jack, this isn’t what I had planned,” he said as he ran back and slid Jack’s limp body into the bed of the truck.

  Back behind the wheel and with his window down, Brian spoke to Jack as if the semi-conscious man might actually respond. “Hang on my man, it’s gonna get rough.”

  Brian shifted the truck into drive and turned back in the direction he’d come. With only thirty feet between his bumper and the horde that now blocked his view of the entrance, he jammed the gas pedal into the floorboard.

  203

  He was tall. Megan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen someone of his height that weighed so little. Walking to the stainless steel crate she’d be forced to cram her tired body back into, she slowed her pace. It wasn’t enough to cause the awkwardly tall man any pause, although just enough to get a good look at him. He was different, much different than the company he kept and Megan was about to find out if this could work to her advantage.

  Slowing at the last cage, he still focused on the concrete walkway as he opened the door and motioned for Eleanor to enter. She whimpered as she moved to her hands and knees, crawling the short distance to the back wall. Megan imagined the tall man apologizing as he closed the door behind her. Did he actually speak or did his body language send the message instead? Having only slept a few minutes at a time over the last forty-eight hours, she wasn’t sure.

  He turned back toward Megan and although he avoided eye contact, his gaze rested on her belly. She hadn’t begun to show enough that the average stranger would initiate a conversation, although with the way her tattered blouse clung to her belly, the man three feet away drew in his breath.

  Moving to the cage alongside Eleanor, he propped open the door and looked away as Megan entered. She was sure this time he actually spoke. “I’m sorry.” It was whispered and slipped from his mouth cautiously into the cold morning air, but she heard it.

  Once the tall man assured both doors were locked, he looked into the cages and then back toward the two injured women. Without saying another word, he hurried back down the dimly lit concrete path.

  Through the main door of the building and for the next several minutes confined to the interior, his backlit shadow paced from one end of the building to the other.

  Megan pulled herself to the right side of her cage. “Eleanor, are you okay?”

  Also moving in close, Eleanor struggled to get to her knees. “Yes, but we’ve got to help them. We have to convince them to give Cheryl and Holly some medical attention. They’ll bleed to death in no time if we don’t.”

  “I think they’re trying to teach us a lesson. They’re trying to break us so we’ll do whatever they say.”

  “Yes,” Eleanor said. “I think you’re right, but there has to be something we can do.”

  “Maybe we can talk to this new guy,” Megan said. “He seems different than the others, almost human. I think he may have even tried to apologize.”

  “Okay, but we have to do something soon. They won’t last—”

  The door to the main building opened. Tobias was first to exit, followed closely by the tall man. His voice quiet, although authoritative, Tobias barked orders at the lanky younger man as he stopped at the first
set of cages and turned around. “Nothing changes, nothing. Make sure they stay put and no one touches these two.”

  The tall man responded, although his voice failed to carry beyond the two men. Megan moved to the opposite side of the cage and peered through the small gaps in the door as Tobias set his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I don’t care if they pull the doctor out of thin air and hand him over to you. Nothing happens until I return, got it?”

  The young man nodded and moved back toward the building as Tobias turned and walked away. Standing aside, he watched as the other two men stepped out of the building and followed Tobias away from the concrete path and made their way toward the parking structure that overlooked the main building.

  “Where are they going?” Megan asked.

  Easing down off her bruised knees, Eleanor scooted into the block wall at her back and cut her eyes to the left. “I think we are about to find out.”

  Sluggishly making his way back toward them, the tall man looked over his shoulder as he lowered his giant frame to the damp concrete and sat with his knees tucked into his chest. Peering back in the direction the others had gone, he paused and as the sound of two separate vehicles roared to life, he turned and looked into Megan’s eyes.

  She moved to the door to her cage and without missing a beat, she spoke over the engines attempting to drown her out. “Hey, you need to help us.”

  He continued to stare, although he said nothing. His long arms wrapped tightly around his folded legs, only his eyes and nose were visible.

  “Please, I know you want to,” Megan said. “You have to let us go, we need to help our friends.”

  He turned to the injured women, who now lay with their back to the building. Having since gone quiet, they were wrapped in each other’s arms and awaited the opportunity to slip into unconsciousness. “I can’t,” he said. “They’d kill me and then they’d find you and kill you too.”