The Dead Years (Volumes 4-6)

by Jeff Olah

  Pointing out the climbing equipment left behind, Frank assured Mason they were still headed in the right direction. “These guys knew what they were doing and came prepared.” He also noted the disrupted brush and bloodstained rocks halfway down and sank into silence as he got a glimpse of the man’s face. Even at this height, they could see the man was young, possibly in his early twenties.

  Mason shook his head and looked over the edge once again. “Is there another way around?”

  Frank pointed to a ridge half a mile away. “We can go follow that route, although it’ll cost us at least an hour and I won’t be able to pick up the trail from there. We have to go down here, like it or not.”

  “I don’t, but that hasn’t stopped me yet.”

  Without a harness, Frank wound the rope through Mason’s gear and gave him a quick lesson on how to control his rate of descent. Mason went over the edge first without any coaxing from Frank and fell the last six feet to the ground, rolling to a stop twenty feet from the still unaware Feeders. He unraveled the tangled nylon rope from his body and from his knees gave the all clear thumbs up. As Frank prepared himself to go over the edge, Mason made short work of the three creatures before canvasing the surrounding area.

  His legs weak from the constant stopping and starting of the downhill trek, Mason sat on a downed tree and relaced his boots. The bigger size initially wasn’t too much of a hindrance, although the wet leather began to stretch. Cinching his right boot, Mason flinched as a shot was fired and the crack echoed off the canyon walls. He instinctively rolled off the log, gripped the nine millimeter pistol and swiveled from side to side. The downed Feeder less than ten feet away was still moving toward Mason when Frank shot it in the back of the head while still hanging from the rope thirty feet above.

  . . .

  Confused by the lack of reaction, Tessa stepped away from the camera and looked into the monitor. The Command Center was empty. She must’ve been buried in thought when they passed by heading to another part of the building. She asked a medicated Randy if he’d seen them. He turned onto his good side and just smiled. He witnessed Justin’s breakthrough and was anxious to bring April here. “How’s the shoulder?” she asked him.

  “I feel good, but did it really need that many staples?”

  “I was being safe. It’s better to do it right. The staples will hold much better if need be.”

  “Why would it matter?” Randy asked.

  “You never know.”

  He wanted to clean up and get something in his stomach and the stench hanging in the air was beginning to ruin his appetite. Still a little light-headed, Randy sat forward and pushed to the edge of the table. “Am I free to go… you taken what you need from me to get him fixed up?”

  Heading back to the charts, Tessa began flipping through the files and documenting her findings. “I’ve got everything I need from you that could possibly help him… I am just praying it will. Yes, you are free. Can you send April and Eleanor in if you see them?”

  “Yeah, no problem.” Light-headed and slightly off balance Randy winced as he pushed away from the table and walked out the door. Completely destroyed shirt in hand, he rounded the corner into the men’s lounge, opened the hazardous waste can and tossed it in. Out of habit, he leaned in and raised both arms to pull down a fresh set of towels only to be reminded of his limitation. “I need to strap this thing down.”

  Footsteps from behind came and disappeared. He turned and remembering Tessa’s request shuffled to the door. Looking into the hall, he saw that it was Savannah heading to the kitchen from the women’s lounge. “Hey… where’s April? There’s a bit of good news.”

  Her warm shower and the security provided by this area of the building had her ready to fall fast asleep. Savannah just wanted to put something in her stomach and then it was lights out. She’d sleep on the floor if she had to, after the last twenty four hours she deserved to sleep the entire day away. Not fully paying attention and startled by Randy’s voice she turned and walked back to him. “Is it Justin? Is he doing any better?”

  “Doc is not really sure what to make of it just yet, although he opened his eyes. I checked him out and he doesn’t seem to have that hazy film over them like the Feeders do,” Randy said.

  “That’s good right?”

  “Don’t know, but someone needs to tell April. Have you seen her?”

  “Yeah, she’s just out of the shower. I think her mom brought her something to eat. I’ll go back and tell her to head over.”

  “Sounds good…” Watching her walk away, Randy paused for a moment trying to find something of comfort to say. “Savannah, you gonna be ok?”

  She continued down the hall. “Sure, just peachy.”

  “I’m serious, we’ve survived things in the last two weeks that no one should have. I’m not here just to protect you, we’re also family. How you holding up?”

  Stopping short of the women’s lounge, the light pouring into the hall silhouetted her thin frame. She was beaten, they all were. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ok, I don’t think any of us will… ever.”

  42

  Four solid blows to the abdomen and ribs, the last two from the business end of a steel toed boot, had him rethinking the determination of his adversaries. He coughed blood more than once and it appeared his little game of cat and mouse may have backfired. Tumbling to the ground while tied to a metal folding chair hurt much more than he anticipated and after his fourth face to face meeting with the dilapidated wood flooring, he needed a break. Pulled up once again, the rope cutting into his wrists and ankles, Major Daniels smirked. “You guys keep this up and I may have to offer you a job working for me when this is all over.”

  Striking him once more, this time with a closed fist, caused the skin on his face to tear open. Blood ran down his face and onto his once neatly pressed black slacks. “Daniels, I’m done with your little head games. Last chance… you either tell us where to find him or I’m gonna squeeze you where I know it’ll hurt.”

  “Sport, you have no idea who I am or what I’m capable of. You will pay for putting your hands on me. I promise you that much.”

  From behind, the cloth covering his eyes was pulled off and as the dimly lit room came into focus, he recognized the man seated as one of the low-level security officers for BXF Technologies. He knew this wasn’t who was responsible for the hell he’d seen in the last hour. This man, in his early twenties, sat with one leg slung over the other, leg shaking as he avoided eye contact with the Major and pulled furiously on the rapidly deteriorating cigarette he held close to his mouth. Nothing about this man told the story of moving through dirt and snow or dragging a hostage for miles through a wooded hillside. His uniform was inspection ready and not a lick of dried mud found its way onto his freshly buffed, military grade boots.

  The man who’d beaten him for the better part of the morning moved out of the shadow and came toward him shaking his head. “You’re not gonna talk, is that what you’re telling me?”

  The head of security for BXF was also the biggest and ugliest man Major Daniels had the displeasure of privately training. He stood six feet five inches tall and weighed in just below two hundred fifty pounds. He face was cut from a block of steel and his body was his most valuable weapon. He was quicker than men half his size and stronger than most anyone he encountered. For all his physical attributes, the Major was more concerned about his psychological state.

  Sitting up as straight as possible and fighting back the pain in his hands and feet, Daniels said, “I’ll never give him up and even if I did, he’d never help you anyway. You can tell Marcus Goodwin it’s over, he’ll never find salvation.”

  “Major, I hate to break the news to you, although in case you weren’t aware, the world changed a few weeks ago and so did our objectives. You have no backing and you’re not the man you once were. We both know that. You’re a broke-down old man who’s in his last days. Tell me what I need to know before he arrives and I’ll push you o
ut the back door here. If you make it back to Blackmore, you can call it a success.”

  “I’ll take my chances with your boss. There’s no way he can revive the planet without my help, you need me alive and we both know it,” Major Daniels said.

  “That’s not entirely true. If you’d like, I can place five men back at Blackmore within the hour. If you make this any more difficult than it needs to be, I’ll instruct them on where to find Eleanor and what to do with her. You know what my mind is capable of and how she’ll suffer.” The behemoth of a man crouched in front of the Major meeting him eye to eye. “Mr. Goodwin no longer wants to save the world. He wants to control it.”

  . . .

  The warmth provided by the lounge had her dozing off even as Eleanor continued to talk. The donated clothing fit her nicely, although April felt odd slipping into clothes that once belonged to someone else. They were clean and weren’t previously stained with blood, so this was the last thing she’d have to complain about. April was able to discard the mess of an outfit she limped into the building wearing and the boots she found in an adjacent locker fit like the proverbial glove. Sitting with her back against the wall and eating a small bowl of tomato soup, she was startled as Savannah entered the room with an ear to ear smile. This confused April. “The food isn’t that good.”

  “Haven’t eaten yet, I wouldn’t know. Tessa asked that you come to The Cage. There may be a bit of good news for once.”

  Almost dropping the half eaten bowl of soup, April scrambled to her feet and helped her mother up as well. “Thank you Savannah.” The thought of sleep or food dissipated as a sudden burst of adrenaline rushed through her body. Dragging her mother as she rounded the corner they both almost fell to the ground as they slammed into Randy coming from the opposite direction. Pushing off the wall for balance, April giggled. “Hey Randy, what’s with all the stuff?”

  “Just gonna shower and grab a bite, then get some rest. I’ll be in the men’s lounge.”

  “Looks like you and Mason have the same stylist,” Eleanor said as April began pulling her in the opposite direction once again.

  Before rounding the corner, April shouted, “BYE Randy, get some sleep.”

  The long row of windows that fronted The Cage were without even one spot, almost as if they had vanished. Not fully believing what was taking place just feet from where she stood, April watched as Tessa squeezed Justin’s right hand and waited for him to flex the other. The look of deep concentration flowed into a slight grin as Tessa saw them standing patiently outside.

  Holding up her index finger, Tessa moved back around the four stainless steel tables and met them at the door. She pulled it open and asked that they try to remain calm. “His movements have been for the most part erratic, although he’s opened his eyes and appears to be responding to some external stimuli. Please try to limit any quick movements and speak normally. I have yet to see any subject respond this way after being under for so long.”

  Furrowing her brow, April responded. “Subject? That’s my son.”

  Tessa bit her lip and cupped April’s hands. “Of course he is. I apologize, he’s given me hope and I’m just a little bit beside myself.”

  Looking Tessa in the eyes as a tear formed in her own, April began to cry. “I’m sorry, you’re only helping and I’m a mess. Thank you for… everything.”

  43

  Sunlight hammered down the back of his neck as they hurried through the massive clearing. Mason coughed as he tried to keep pace. Sweat pooled beneath his eyes and saturated his shirt and jacket. The weight of his pack began to rip into his shoulders and forced him to hunch forward as they ran. With forty yards separating the two, Mason was astonished at the endurance and speed of the stocky soldier he chased down the mountain. He ran along the same trail and was sure to keep his eyes focused on the path ahead. A twisted ankle at this point could be a death sentence.

  Frank slowed as the treeline thickened and came to a stop before a steep runoff into the expansive plateau below. Heavy clumps of wet dirt clung to their boots as they stopped for a moment to kick it free and down a few swigs of water. Setting his pack against the large spruce, a glimmer caught Frank’s eye from the bottom of the short slope. Slipping his bag back over one shoulder, he carefully made his way down without causing the loose hillside to slip. Kneeling, Frank snatched the plastic ID badge from the ground and looked back to see Mason also stepping delicately down the soft terrain.

  “Check it out; I’d say we’re still on course,” Frank said as he tossed his find to Mason.

  Catching the badge, Mason flipped it over and immediately recognized his father-in-law’s picture laminated across the front of the Blackmore Research Facility access badge. He brushed the debris away and was put off by how much April looked like him. The same eyes and jaw structure as her father and the dimple that sat in the middle of her chin were gifts she inherited from the man he was now trying to locate. Mason had no idea what he was getting into and couldn’t think of a reason this was a good idea. He wasn’t a soldier, he’d shot a gun more in the last two weeks than the preceding thirty plus years of his life. “This wasn’t a good idea.”

  Leaning against one of the larger trees in the area, Frank motioned for Mason to join him. He turned and pointed to a spot fifty yards beyond the plateau. “Mason, you see it?”

  “See what?”

  “Look just past the group of four trees to the left of the clearing. I think that’s it.”

  “That rundown shack, why would they have him there?” Mason asked.

  “Don’t know, but if you follow the trail, that’s where it leads, although they may already be gone… or worse.”

  “Or worse?”

  “Stay on point, they may know we’re here and I don’t want any surprises,” Frank said.

  “OK, what’s the plan?”

  “Stay close, If they are in there and don’t realize we’re here, we may have a chance. Don’t fire your weapon unless it’s absolutely necessary. Let’s get down there.”

  Keeping within a few feet of one another, they moved quickly from one area to the next attempting to stay out of sight as they approached. Frank bit his lip and hurried to the only window the decrepit wood cabin had to offer. Turning, he waved Mason over and they both crouched down, backs against the wall. “I think they may have already gone, give me a second,” Frank said as he reached up behind him and quietly wiped clean a small section of the lower window pane.

  Whispering, Mason said, “I don’t hear anything.”

  Frank stood and looked in through the window, not able to make out much of the darkened interior. “Mason, it looks clear, they must have passed through here already. Just to be sure, I’m going around front. Can you cover the back door?”

  “On it.”

  Slowly swinging wide around the rear of the cabin, Mason could hear Frank jog off in the opposite direction. He was annoyed with the amount of noise Frank made as he hurried away. “It’d be a shame for something to happen to him.”

  Rounding the last tree, Mason stepped lightly through the damp foliage to avoid detection as he made his way to the rear door. Leaning in, Mason heard Frank’s voice and reached for the door handle assuming he cleared the cabin and wanted him to enter.

  Mason’s adrenaline spiked watching the door open on its own. He reached for his weapon, although not before looking up and seeing Frank standing two feet away. “I almost killed you!” Mason said. “You could have let me know you cleared the area. What the hell is wrong…”

  Frank’s face twitched as he interrupted. “I should have killed you earlier…”

  Caught off guard, Mason didn’t have a chance to defend himself. Weapon in hand, Frank planted his rear foot and swung on him, making contact with Mason’s temple. The blinding pain only momentarily registered before he slipped into unconsciousness and fell to the dirt.

  . . .

  The voices became more tolerable as the minutes passed and he was able to make sense of what
was said. He recognized one of the women as being someone close, although he wasn’t sure why. With the pain now fleeting, he felt at peace. The shards of ice drilling away at his joints had subsided and warmth filled every extremity. Justin was unable speak; he couldn’t yet form the thoughts necessary to communicate with the three women in the room. His movements were reflexive and every command his mind sent to his muscles went unanswered.

  Flashes… memories, he wasn’t sure what they were or how to understand them. They came in quick succession at first and the more he concentrated on remembering, the farther he drifted from the voices in the room. This man standing in the doorway, his pain evident as he kissed her on the cheek and walked out the door, they weren’t supposed to be apart, they needed each other. The same woman, her gentle nature struggling for survival repeatedly slammed a metal pipe into an attacker in an attempt to save her family. These two individuals, finally together and standing hand in hand as he hurried toward them. He ran faster as they slowly faded and eventually disappeared before he could reach them. Justin’s mind replayed these memories in an attempt to remind him of why he needed to live and who he needed to live for.