The Dead Years (Volumes 4-6)

by Jeff Olah

  The first few Feeders appeared lost as they stumbled into the store and apparently didn’t see Randy fighting to free himself under a long rack of DVD’s. Squinting through the darkness and moving toward him, Mason called for his friend. “Randy, they’re inside; we gotta go!”

  “No kidding, give me a hand.”

  “I’m on my way, you get what you needed?”

  “Yeah, you?” Randy asked.

  “Not exactly, that quake threw EVERYTHING to the floor; I grabbed a handful of something,” Mason said. “Now cover your ears for a second.”

  “GO.”

  Moving in just behind Randy and standing over him, Mason fired off three rapid shots, turning the first two into stepping stones for the ones coming from behind. “Up close head shots are the way to go,” he thought to himself as he leaned forward and downed the last one. “Get up! Let’s go!” Mason said as he watched the entrance and helped his friend push the long rack to the side. Randy stood and kicked at the debris, clearing the area just in front of the two.

  Bending to pick up the shotgun, Randy surveyed the area, “Mason, I’m not sure we have enough firepower to get back to the RV. This really wasn’t what I had in mind”

  “Too bad, cause this is what I was waiting for all day. Hopefully we can follow this up with a good explosion!”

  “Mason, now’s not really the time…”

  “Yeah, I know. Let’s go!”

  “Uh…” Randy stopped and pointed toward the entrance. “We’re not goin’ out that way.”

  What little moonlight came through the entrance as the pair entered the store was now cut into tiny shards by the sheer number of Feeders climbing over their downed comrades and the multitude piling in from behind. “Haven’t seen a crowd this large since opening day at the race track, only they’re betting we lose.”

  “Seriously Mason, enough. We gotta go, let’s check the back door.”

  Weaving their way through the disaster left behind by the early days of the infection and the sizable quake only minutes ago, Mason led the way to the rear of the store. Randy used the barrel of the shotgun to push open the door to the stockroom as Mason peered in. “It’s clear, come on.”

  They hurried through the final part of the store with little time to waste as the growing number of Feeders crammed through, practically nipping at their heels.

  A single skylight near the exit lit the way, guiding the two men toward the rear exit. With only enough ammunition for a short fight, Mason nodded to Randy as he stepped in behind and took the pistol from his friend’s waistband. “Just take care of the door, I got this.” Mason chambered a round in each pistol and took two steps toward the oncoming horde. Planting his right foot for balance, he fired multiple rounds into each Feeder, making sure to plug the door to the stockroom with plenty of motionless bodies. Turning back to Randy he said, “Let’s go already.”

  Randy tried in vain to load a round into the chamber of the shotgun. He pulled back on the forestock once again and noticed the problem. “It’s jammed!”

  Not knowing how many rounds he had left, Mason pushed Randy aside and winced as he shot directly into the lock. Tiny shards of lead and stainless steel darted around the room, spraying them both in the process. The flash illuminated the rear of the stockroom for half a second. Something in the far corner caught Mason’s eye as Randy kicked open the already badly damaged door and looked out into the rear lot.

  The blast had caught the attention of no less than fifty Feeders moving about behind the newly constructed outdoor mall. If this would have been fifteen days ago, panic would have instantly set in at the sight of these things that were something not quite human, although most still held a vague resemblance. Now they were more of a mild hindrance, unless you made the mistake of not having an exit plan. Mason knew they were running short on options, even though they still had time to run, although what waited in the RV was something no one in the group wanted to deal with.

  Rather than wasting time trying to fix the jammed shotgun out in the rain that had eased considerably, Randy tossed it to the ground. He held out his right hand asking Mason for the second nine millimeter as he stepped out into the lot. Handing over the weapon, he in turn received one of the two extra clips from Randy. “Make every shot count; this is all we got and it has to last us till we get back.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Mason hesitated as Randy started for the alley that separated the two stores and turned his attention back to the interior. Sliding the clip into his front pocket, he looked back inside and spied two propane tanks near the door. Firing one round into the first tank Mason flinched and turned away. The blast caused a chain reaction and instantly ignited the rear of the store, preventing any additional Feeders from exiting.

  Catching Randy just short of the break in the buildings, Mason was reminded of the last time he made these kinds of off the cuff decisions… they almost got him killed. Not even eight hours after the initial infection, the man running next to him had to save his life. Reaching the corner, Mason stopped first and looked in. Only two Feeders to contend with and a ten foot wide space to do it in, he liked their odds.

  Randy grabbed him by the shoulder. “No Guns! Let’s just get to the other side, no noise. Cool?”

  “Yep,” Mason grunted.

  “I’m serious; we need to get back to them, not for us… for them. You good?”

  “Yes, I’m good. Don’t worry about it,” Mason shot back.”

  “OK, no jokes, no weird comments, no crazy stunts. Let’s just get back to the girls. I’m done with this day. You should be too.”

  Thirty feet tall, the white block walls on either side of the alley gave no chance for escape once they started down the path. This particular setting was both ominous and familiar at the same time. There were too many ways this could go wrong, although both men knew without saying a word what was going to take place.

  Random puddles dotted the landscape between where they were and where they needed to be, as reminders of the torrential downpour that now quietly continued to fall. Three shades of pink covered Randy’s tattered shirt as it took on a sort of tie-dyed effect, almost looking planned. The many encounters over the last couple of hours, mixed with the rain, had partially washed away even the most gruesome of battles, although the memories remained.

  Leading the way into the void, Mason looked back and confirmed that his friend followed close behind. “What the hell is waiting for us back in the RV? I shouldn’t have left her with him? She can’t even handle him in his current state; let alone what he’ll become when he wakes up.” Reaching the halfway point, they simply stepped around the first of the flesh-eating road blocks. Still convinced they needed to stay quiet; Randy calmly moved in behind the Feeder and kicked at its lower leg, knocking it to the ground as they passed. It never had a chance and as it lay on the ground thrashing about, the two men moved on to their next target.

  With the second Feeder just feet away, they slowed as it was dead center in the alley. Stepping forward Mason wanted to handle this one just as systematically. As it turned to go after them, Mason took a few steps back, not quite sure how to handle this thing. There was no good way to get a hold of it without dropping his weapon. Out of time and options he raised his weapon.

  “NO!” Randy said just as a shot went off… only it wasn’t from Mason’s gun.

  20

  Smoke rose from the rear of the shopping mall as the muted stench of death and fear hung in the air like a bad dream. Feeders continued to pour into the lot nearest the street and converged around the opening of the drug store. There weren’t many between her and the building, although the fear she faced on day one of the infection hadn’t subsided… not one ounce. She’d rather face a third-world country firing squad than fight these sub-humans. Savannah was a woman, a beautiful woman, although she tried to give off the appearance of being the tough tom-boy type. It wasn’t working. She was scared beyond her years and her heart rate doubled in the last thi
rty seconds.

  “Mason and Randy… where did they go, I don’t see them anywhere?” She wasn’t really sure how she was going to help, as she stepped out of the RV and started across the lot. With the gun raised, she pointed wildly at every Feeder that came within twenty feet. Running quietly toward the mayhem and looking side to side for the two men she hoped would appear, Savannah inadvertently stepped into a small depression in the pavement and reactively gripped the pistol, firing off a single round. Falling to the ground and sliding to a stop not thirty feet from the horde, she knew without lifting her head that a whole new set of problems were headed her way.

  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.

  21

  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.