The Dead Years (Volume 3)

by Jeff Olah

  Mason smiled as he looked around the RV. “Good enough for me. Let’s go.”

  As the sun started to move out of view in the western sky, they slowly drove up the freeway on-ramp, surprised that it was completely empty, but soon discovered why. Reaching the peak and seeing thousands of cars in a tangled mess, obviously stranded with no signs of life anywhere, Randy simply put the RV in reverse and started back down the ramp. “Not gonna happen,” was all he said.

  Darkness continued to fall as they came to a stop under the freeway overpass, which was apparently the only place in the city not completely overrun by Feeders.

  “Now where to?” Randy asked.

  “Can’t we just keep heading south and drive up the coast. It will take a little longer, but the back roads might be less crowded,” April said.

  “Let’s give it a try.”

  “Wait,” William said. “Before we head out and come across those things again, shouldn’t we have some sort of a plan for dealing with them, you know…so we’re all on the same page?”

  Adam raised his hand like he was answering a question in grade school. “I for one agree that we need a plan.”

  Mason sat forward, still in a great deal of pain. “Yes, we need to stay together and figure out the best way to avoid running into those things. They seem to be everywhere and nothing short of taking their heads off is slowing them down.”

  William looked frustrated and wiped the sweat from his forward. “Mason, what do we know about what happened yesterday other than these things seem to be infected with some sort of illness that eliminates everything human about them?”

  “I jumped on the internet the first few hours after this all happened and couldn’t find much of anything that made sense or seemed accurate. Before the power went out, I came across a site that was run by someone claiming to be a Biochemist who worked directly on the project that caused the outbreak. He said that we were all in deep trouble if this thing ever got out. I don’t remember all of what I read, although he mentioned the military and appeared really crazy.”

  “Did he say what it was and how it started?” Adam asked.

  “No, he checked out just after the news started reporting all this. His last comments were sort of a told ya so.”

  William folded his arms and stretched his neck in frustration. “So we have no idea, other than to take their heads off?”

  As the others continued to watch out the windows for the next possible attack, Mason continued. “All we can really do is stay together and make damn sure we take things slow. This world is much different than it was yesterday morning and…”

  Randy interrupted, “Mason… wait. When you were out of it earlier today, you told me all this and I think I know what it is. If I’m right, this is gonna be really bad and most likely worldwide. There is not going to be anyone coming to help and civilization will need to reset itself.”

  “Reset?” Karen said.

  “If this is the Project Lockwood virus that has mutated, we may have a chance. There is a treatment, although we will need to find it in its stable form. If the virus got out, it will have started at military bases and government facilities. Civilization will need to start over.”

  The group was frightened, although they all wanted to hear more. William asked the obvious question everyone else was thinking. “Randy, what is Project Lockwood and how the hell did you find out about it?”

  Moving from the front of the RV to the main cabin, Randy sat at the makeshift table in the middle of the group. “When I returned from my third tour, I was commissioned to a Northern California no-name military base guarding what I thought were just a bunch of lab geeks. This went on for three months, just gazing at monitors from an abandoned warehouse with three others. Two shifts of four men watching the front gate and perimeter cameras for twelve hours at a clip. We were told to make sure no one came or left. Once every week for three hours, all eight of us were taken off base for very specific types of combat training. Come to find out that we were all highly decorated soldiers prior to this assignment. None of us understood why our talents were going to waste watching monitors all day and night.”

  Running his hands through his hair, Mason sensed what came next wasn’t going to be good. “I have a funny feeling you weren’t there to watch over anyone, were you?”

  “No,” Randy said. “One day, early into the fourth month, we watched as two black SUV’s pulled up to the front gates. I immediately called the commander on duty who said he was aware and for us to turn off the monitors and meet in the mess hall. When we arrived, the other four night shift soldiers were being interrogated at the far end of the room.”

  Still brushing the debris from his arms and chest, obviously upset, Adam raised his hand once again. “Sorry, but what the hell does any of this have to do with what happened yesterday?”

  “I’m gettin’ to it,” Randy continued. “We were all separated and each assigned to their own lab technician. We were asked a ton of questions, of which I still don’t remember any. The entire facility was turned over to a privatized company that was interested in determining what our capabilities and limitations were physically. The four soldiers from the night shift were given weekly injections that were supposed to speed up muscular response and recovery time. The four of us from the day shift were the control group.”

  Looking around the room, Mason could tell from their blank expressions that the others still were in the dark about what was coming. He thought back to the website he came across and now remembered speaking to Randy about this just after being shot. “Randy, was Dr. Lockwood involved with this? He had some very bad things to say.”

  “There was no Dr. Lockwood. I think I know the person who you’re talking about and his name was Dr. Eugene Trite. He created the Lockwood virus they used in testing. He warned that excess dosage or prolonged use would cause severe frontal lobe damage. I learned that this is the part of the brain that is responsible for reasoning, judgment and impulses.”

  “They injected you with a virus?” Karen asked.

  “Not me or my group, and it wasn’t really a virus. We were told it was a natural occurring hormone that enhanced human function. I later found out that the injectable had the possibility of mutating, that’s why we called it a virus. I watched the procedure many times. They injected the subject’s right where the spine meets the skull. It looked like the most painful thing I have ever seen. The whole thing took maybe five minutes.”

  April dug her shoes into the dense carpet on the floor of the RV, still trying to piece this together in her mind. “How did that turn into this?”

  “We continued the combat training and within weeks it was obvious the test subjects were outperforming my group in every situation. They were much faster, could exert themselves longer and went days without sleep. They had created human robots. After six months of this, the company running the experiments green lighted Project Lockwood for use in all areas of the military. That was eight years ago, just before my dismissal from the project and the death of two of the test subjects.”

  “What happened?” William asked.

  “As time went on, the subjects taking the injections became increasingly aggressive. I personally witnessed the deaths and the test subjects acted exactly like the Feeders. The first incident involved one of the night shift soldiers ripping apart one from the day shift and proceeding to try to eat him. The good Dr. wanted to immediately cease all activity on the project until he could rework the injectable. The Project Commander said too much time and money had been spent to start over and thought they no longer needed him. He was forcibly removed from the facility and we moved ahead with the tests. They didn’t believe one had to do with the other and that a slightly lower dosage would fix the problem. The very next week there was a second attack that led to the death of three lab techs and one MP.”

  As the group started to piece together the rest of the story, Adam had another question. “So the virus somehow escaped?”

/>   “It looks that way. During the second attack, I was bitten by the test subject and within hours became extremely ill. The lab geeks pumped me full of some sort of vaccine before I sank into a coma. That is where I stayed for ten days. When I finally came to in a military hospital, two counties away, I was told the project had been disbanded and was relieved of my service to our country with an honorable discharge. I was actually scared for the first time in my life and didn’t ask any questions. I grabbed my bags and never asked any questions.”

  “I’m sure it didn’t end there…” Mason said.

  “No, I received handwritten letters a couple of times a year from Dr. Trite, addressed out of Colorado. I assumed that’s not actually where he was, although I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see him anyway. I wanted to distance myself from the whole thing.”

  Randy began to sweat at the thought of what all this meant. “The Dr. somehow still managed to get updates on what was happening with the project. His letters stated that they moved it to the desert in Nevada and the military brought in an additional five thousand test subjects. In the following years they were used in all areas of the military, government and were deployed in many other countries around the world. Trite said they continued giving the treatment to these subjects and he feared that this would one day mutate. It looks like he was right.”

  “Ok, how do we fight them?” William asked.

  “We don’t. We need to get somewhere safe and find out if the antidote is still around. It has to be, otherwise there is no point in fighting.”

  14

  The city was calm as Mason gazed out through the windshield and down the highway. “We need to get moving. Let’s park this thing somewhere safe and take turns on watch. We can figure out what the hell to do with all this information tomorrow.”

  Randy nodded in agreement and climbed back into the driver’s seat. Sliding his way into position behind the wheel, he put his hands above his head and stretched every muscle in his body. The others continued to fill the rest of the RV with dim whispers and muted conversations. They weren’t any closer to understanding this new world, although they at least now had an idea of what caused this mess.

  Mason slowly eased his way into into the passenger seat and exhaled loudly. “It’s gonna be a long night bud.”

  “I suppose so,” Randy followed.

  The rhythmic sound of the tires against the silence of the night lulled most everyone to sleep within the first half hour of driving along the coast. April and Justin found the warm blankets and soft sheets in the main sleeping area to their liking. Adam and Savannah made due with the twin captain’s chairs as Karen stretched out on the lone fold-out sofa that was oddly as comfortable as anything she had ever slept on, or at least it felt that way. William and Joe sat at opposite ends of the breakfast table discussing the absurdity of the past day’s events. The only light that broke the dark terrain came in the form of the ever so random fires burning in different parts of the city.

  Rolling to a complete stop at the only four way intersection they had come to, Mason smiled as he cocked an eyebrow and said, “Still obeying all the traffic laws are we?”

  “Not really,” Randy said as he slowly shifted the RV into park and then pointed into the distance. “Look at that.”

  Mason sat forward rubbing his bloodshot eyes and blinked a few times trying to focus on what he was seeing. “Oh Shit! Where did they come from?” A sea of Feeders, too many to count, were only thirty feet from the RV and closing. With each second that passed they continued to close the gap.

  “Randy, put this thing in reverse and get us out of here.”

  “Not gonna happen. Check the mirrors.”

  Mason looked in the side view mirror to see just as many of them coming from the rear. “Now what?”

  “We need to clear a path; I’d prefer to just run them over, although there’s just too many. We’re gonna have to get out and do this the old fashioned way. Like right now or they’re going to rip this RV and all of us apart.”

  Randy flipped on the interior lights, waking all the sleepers as William stood, cutting short his conversation with his uncle.

  “What’s happening, why did we stop?” William asked.

  Randy unzipped the bag of weapons handing pistols to Adam, William and Mason. “We’ve got large groups of Feeders coming from the front and rear. We need to get through the one in front. Let’s go. Mason, stay at the door and make sure none of them get in.”

  Still half asleep, Justin rushed to slip his shoes back on and hurried out of the rear cabin. “I want to help.”

  “Maybe next time,” Randy said as he and the others hopped out and turned to the horde heading their way.

  Easing his way down to the asphalt, Mason watched as the three men hurried off into the night firing round after round into the crowd. All he could see from his spot leaning against the side of the RV, still dealing with the pain in his shoulder ,was the rapid brightness that came with each flash of the muzzle.

  April pulled the curtains back on the rear windows as she monitored the action from inside the RV. She slipped on her shoes and called out to Mason to stay close. The others moved from window to window in nervous anticipation.

  A growing number of Feeders now approached from the left side of the street. There was no time to spare. They were no longer going toward the men doing battle in front of the RV and headed straight for Mason and the open door. “We have to go now!” Mason shouted. The men couldn’t hear him through the sounds of combat. The thick smell of death and burnt gun powder blanketed the area. Incoherent shouting came from inside the RV. The group struggled with the thought of being trapped inside as the Feeders finally overtook them.

  Climbing the steps and shutting the door behind him, Mason called out to Joe. “Can you drive this thing? We need to go.”

  “I’m not leaving my nephew out there,” Joe said.

  “We’re not leaving; we just need to buy some time. We won’t leave without them. We need them.”

  “Alright,” Joe said. “I’ll drive, get in the passenger seat and guide me through.”

  “Let’s go,” Mason said as he set the weapon down on the table and painfully slid back into the seat, grabbing at his shoulder and gritting his teeth.

  “Tell my nephew I love him.”

  “What?” Without looking back, Mason reached over, turned back on the headlights and was in shock at what the three men had done. Within mere minutes, they had all but cleared the area and the remaining Feeders began to head off in another direction.

  Randy slapped Adam on the back and both men helped William limp back to the RV, obviously hurt in the confrontation.

  “Joe, let’s get this thing going my man,” Mason turned and Joe was gone, so was the gun. “Where did he go?” Mason asked no one in particular. The others were all in the back looking out as the horde moved away from the RV. Mason noticed the door was open and moved aside to let Randy and the others back in.

  “Where’s Joe…”

  “OH MY GOD!” Screams came from the back of the RV and the men turned to see Joe, forty feet away, drawing every Feeder in the area to him. He shuffled his tiny little feet as fast as they would go. He realized this world was not the place for him any longer and wanted to save his family, at least for one more day. The longer he stayed the more risk he put them in.

  “JOE!” William cried out as he jumped into the street, immediately falling to the ground on his injured right ankle. He raised the weapon, still in his hand and began to squeeze off round after round doing what little he could to slow the pace at which the crowd fell upon his uncle. “Help him,” he pleaded with the others, already knowing they were too late.

  Randy stepped around William and grabbed his gun. He at least needed to make an effort as Joe buckled under the weight of the two Feeders that pulled him to the ground. Joe managed to get off a couple of shots before his right bicep was bitten in two and his arm pulled off at the shoulder joint.


  Randy moved in behind the crowd without being noticed and began to, one by one, pick off Feeders who had converged on Joe. He continued to fire on the crowd, although there was no point. He caught a glimpse of the elder uncle through the pile of bodies and knew he was gone. Joe passed quickly and quietly as the remaining Feeders converged.

  William no longer felt the pain in his ankle. The constant throbbing was replaced by the steady stream of tears that ran down his face. This man was his hero growing up and the two were never apart more than a few days since he turned twelve years old. William stayed in the town he grew up in for college and lived with his uncle until he made enough money to buy his own home. He insisted Joe live with him, sell his house and retire. His uncle fought this at first, although William wore him down and the two have been inseparable ever since. He had just lost his best friend.

  Hanging his head, Randy turned to walked back, each step more agonizing then the next. He handed the guns to Adam and knelt next to William. “Your uncle is a brave man. He did that to save us.”

  The opportunity for them to leave the area was quickly slipping away and Randy needed to at least get William into the RV so they could leave the area with the rest of the group intact. “We need to go; Joe died for the group. He wanted the rest of us to leave this place alive. Do this for him.” Randy slid his arm under William; the two men stood as one and slowly walked the few feet to the door.