by Jeff Olah
The Next World
EXISTENCE
Jeff Olah
Copyright © 2018 by Jeff Olah
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is merely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com
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Visit the author’s website for free stories, behind the scenes extras and much more.
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BOOKS BY JEFF OLAH
The Dead Years Series:
ORIGINS
THRESHOLD
TURBULENCE
BLACKMORE
COLLAPSE
VENGEANCE
HOMECOMING
RETRIBUTION
ABSOLUTION
The Last Outbreak Series:
AWAKENING
DEVASTATION
DESPERATION
REVOLUTION
SALVATION
More Stories:
INTENT
RATH
Contents
The Next World…
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
What’s Next?
Sneak peek of The Last Outbreak
Sneak peek of The Dead Years
About the Author
The Next World…
Many have asked about the connection between this new series The Next World and the two previous series, The Last Outbreak and The Dead Years, and how they are related. Below are a few questions that should clear things up.
Q: What is The Next World?
A: The Next World is a Post-Apocalyptic story of survival that follows the struggles of a small family as they progress through what’s left of the world following the release of a mysterious virus as chronicled in The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak.
Q: Speaking of The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak, is it necessary to read those two series first to enjoy The Next World?
A: Absolutely not. The three series are complete stories and as such, stand alone in their own right. The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak are built in the same universe as The Next World, although nothing is lost if you read one particular series before or after the other.
(FYI … There’s a sneak peek of The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak at the conclusion of this book.)
Q: Okay … The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak, what do we need to know about those books?
A: The Dead Years and The Last Outbreak are the two Best-Selling Post-Apocalyptic Zombie series that follow a small group of survivors as they traverse the worst plague the earth has ever seen. These series were built as a companion to The Next World and can be found Here.
Q: Regarding The Next World; how long will this new series be?
A: The series is scheduled for a three book run. It may go shorter and it may just go longer. Once again, I’m going to throw these people into impossible situations, watch what they do, and then report back.
Q: Where can we find the rest of these books?
A: As each new book is released, it will be uploaded to my author page on Amazon, which you can find Here. Although, if you’d like to get an instant notification when each new book hits the virtual shelves at Amazon, you can join my Exclusive Reader Group and be among the first to pick up the new series.
*I hope this intro to the new series is helpful, and as always, I thank you for your support and can’t wait to hear what you all think of The Next World. So, feel free to send me a message or stop by Facebook and join the party. We would love to have you.
-Jeff Olah
The Human Race at the Brink of Extinction...
Prologue
March 1 – Multiple reports of Intermittent Explosive Disorder Syndrome (IEDS) begin to surface from an undisclosed military installment east of Las Vegas, Nevada.
March 3 – Angered Florida man enters Miami assisted living facility and kills four elderly residents. He is said to have “Eaten the faces and necks” of his victims.
March 7 – Twenty-eight unrelated cases of cannibalism are report from thirteen states. Medical examiners are “Attempting to find a connection.”
March 17 – Death toll attributed to the mysterious outbreak of IEDS nears five thousand. News outlets warn public “Not to panic,” and that these “Random occurrences” were simply “Isolated events.”
March 20 – The day that marked a massive shift in human history.
(Details from the first few days are scarce, although an excerpt from The Dead Years has been included below as a point of reference)
No one really knew how or where it all began. There were only rumors at first, spreading from one city to the next. The mysterious illness took hold quickly and affected millions. Many that were victims of the first wave were caught off guard by the extreme behavior of those infected. The devastation was almost immediate. Law enforcement fell, utilities powered down, and civilization was irreversibly shattered within the first few hours. With no structure left in the world, the few who remained sought to band together to fight and survive in this new existence.
This is their story …
1
The disemboweled corpse they’d found near the front door was sure to delay the close of escrow.
Owen Mercer stood alone at the gate, gripping his phone and staring back at the crowd gathered fifty feet away. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
What began with a call from the buyer’s agent less than an hour before had blossomed into a full-blown circus. Four patrol cars, an unmarked black sedan, two black and white Ford Explorers, a van driven by the county coroner, and within the last few minutes, a charcoal grey Mercedes-Benz G-Class.
He was asked to remain at the gate, but got the sense that this was somehow related to what had been dominating the headlines for the last few days.
“Stay out of the way, don’t ask any questions. And if we need anything, we’ll come to you.”
That’s what the twenty-something officer with the sunglasses, the angular jaw, and the biceps carved from granite had instructed him to do. Owen simply nodded and offered the man a halfhearted smile. But that was before the thirteen text messages and five voicemails from his seller. Somehow, she’d gotten word and was understandably horrified.
Intentionally glancing down at his phone and then back at the officer with the giant arms, Owen made a show of shaking his head. He knew he wasn’t going to get any real answers, although he was hoping to at least get back to his seller before this got out to the media. It wouldn’t be an easy call, but it needed to happen. And the sooner the better.
As the officer took notice and stepped away from the others, he looke
d back toward his Captain and offered a quick nod. He then increased his pace and approached the crime scene tape, also shaking his head. “Mr. Mercer, is there something you need, something you didn’t understand about my instructions?”
Owen turned his palm up, again glanced down at his phone and then back to the officer. “I think it might be a good idea if I give my seller a heads up, you know maybe—”
Interrupting, the officer in the blacked-out aviator sunglasses stepped closer and lowered his voice. “As of right now, I can’t tell you anything.” He leaned in even closer. “And it doesn’t look like they’re going to be wrapping this up anytime soon.”
“So?”
The officer reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a business card. He quickly scribbled out something on the back and handed it to Owen. “We’ve got your statement and your contact information, so if we need anything else we’ll contact you.”
Owen thought he may have missed something. He could only manage two words. “Uh … okay?”
An even grin slid across the officer’s face. He looked past Owen and out toward the end of the block. “It might be in your best interest to call your seller from the road; things around here are about to get crazy.”
Over Owen’s left shoulder, a news van rolled up to the sidewalk and began to set up. The officer, now agitated, watched for a moment, and then turned back to the men and women gathered around the body. When no one looked or seemed to notice, he again shook his head. “Listen, I have to take care of this.”
“I understand.” Owen hesitated, looked down at the business card in his right hand.
Before stepping away, the officer removed his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes. He looked to the news van and then back to Owen. “Something else?”
“Officer Marc Plitt.”
“Affirmative.”
Owen pushed the card into his pocket and held out his hand. “I had a friend with the same last name. Great guy.”
Officer Plitt paused a moment, appeared to be thinking over his response, but then simply offered another unenthusiastic smile. “Take care of yourself.”
For a moment there was something new in the young officer’s face. Something Owen read as confusion, or maybe fear. “Officer?”
“Yes, Mr. Mercer?”
Owen looked over his shoulder one last time. He watched as a large man carrying a massive camera followed a tall brunette away from the van. They hurried to the south end of the property, moving in and out of the trees, attempting to get an angle on the body.
“You following what’s been going on lately?”
The man with the oversized arms tightened his jaw and rested his hands on his belt. “It’s been hard to miss these last few days.”
Although Officer Plitt again tried to step away, Owen persisted, figuring this may be his only shot at some insider information. “You think there’s anything to worry about?”
As the young officer began to respond, someone in the crowd, near the front door, called out. “Plitt … perimeter control.”
Sliding his sunglasses back on, Officer Plitt looked out toward the street. “After my shift today, I’ve got three days off, and let’s just say I’m getting as far away from this city as possible. I’m sure whatever this is will be old news by then.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Might not be a bad time to take a family vacation, if you know what I mean.”
Owen laughed. “Yeah, I could use one of those. It’s been a while.”
The voice near the building shot from the crowd once again, this time doubling its volume. “PLITT!”
“Thanks for your time Mr. Mercer; we’ll be in touch.”
Owen stepped aside, again looking down at his phone as Officer Plitt moved under the crime scene tape and through the waist-high gate. Five new text messages, three from his seller and now two from his wife.
Odd. If he was remembering correctly, Natalie had been booked solid with client meetings until midday. Even stranger, she was asking that he call her.
He tapped through to her message and began to read as he started back toward the street. For a moment, he stopped and looked from one end of the long block to the other. It took a good three seconds before he remembered which vehicle he’d driven into the city that morning.
He smiled as his eyes drifted to the three-day-old silver Audi Q7. He still wasn’t quite used to its beauty, and although it felt good to sit behind the leather wrapped steering wheel and sink into the cockpit, he was still having a few issues with its monumental sticker price.
Dropping into the driver’s seat, he closed the door, turned over the engine, and for the third time, scrolled back to the beginning of Natalie’s texts. In the time it took to cross the street, she had sent another three messages. The first two were only three words each.
Please call me.
Where are you???
The next three came in rapid succession. Each only seconds from the one before.
Owen what the hell is going on? I need you to call me as soon as you get this!
It’s Ava, something’s going on at her school.
Owen please call me ASAP.
He was dialing before he finished reading the last message. His heart pounded in his chest like an out of control jackhammer, and his face was now pale and sweaty as he pulled away from the sidewalk.
Slamming the gas pedal to the floor, his mind ran off in a thousand different directions. His daughter’s school was nearly ten miles away, and at this time of the morning it would take at least thirty minutes to get to the other side of town. Was she scared? Was she hurt? He didn’t like where his thoughts were headed, but more than that, he didn’t like his options.
Owen dropped his phone into the passenger seat and ran the sleeve of his right arm over his face. He pulled to a stop at the end of the long block just as his wife’s voice shot through the vehicle’s speakers.
“Owen?” She sounded calm.
“Natalie, I’m sorry what’s going on? Is Ava …”
She breathed out slowly, almost sounded relieved. “Yes, she’s fine … but Owen?”
He didn’t like those last two words. “Uh, yeah?”
“There’s something else, but I need you to not flip out, okay?”
“Okay?”
“I’m on my way to pick up Ava.”
“What, why?”
“There was a shooting at the high school today.”
2
His head was swimming. He’d rushed to end the call and didn’t ask enough questions. Or was it Natalie who had hurried him off the line? What did she think? Had anyone been shot? Who was the shooter? Was it one of the students or maybe someone else? There were too many things coming all at once.
Owen ran his hand over his face, pushed a thin line of sweat from his forehead up into his hair, and then checked himself in the rearview mirror. He felt like crap and most nearly looked the part. His thick sand-colored hair hung lifeless against the side of his head, and although he’d shaved before leaving this morning, his five-o-clock shadow had decided to make an early arrival.
He now felt light-headed and nauseous. Natalie was vague with the details and he knew there had to be a reason why. She made sure to let him know that Ava was fine, but didn’t offer much of anything else. Was it because she’d seen him glued to the news over the last few days or because she ultimately knew how he’d react?
He now wanted to know. He needed to know.
Owen slowly drifted into the right lane and turned into the parking lot that served three fast food restaurants, a nail salon, a franchised coffee shop, and the area’s only large-scale sporting goods store. He’d driven in circles for the last twenty minutes still reeling from the call to Natalie and now needed to find the right words to comfort his seller. He wasn’t sure what they were, but couldn’t avoid it any longer.
With his pulse just now beginning to return to normal, he dialed his seller and sat back against the buttery leather of the
Audi’s interior. Rolling his neck from one side to the other, Owen thought through the next few minutes and tried to imagine a scenario where he was able to maintain the confidence of the woman he’d worked with for more than a decade.
Nothing was coming to mind.
On the third ring, Joanne Sindero answered. She sounded as though she was climbing through the phone with just one word. “OWEN!”
“Joanne, I know how all of this looks—”
“No.” She turned down the volume in her voice, but not the intensity. “This was our buyer and if he walks, you know what I have to do, right?”
“Yes, Joanne I understand, but we aren’t going to lose the buyer. I’ve been on the phone all morning with his agent.” He wasn’t being completely honest. “We’ll get this unfortunate hiccup behind us and get the deal closed, most certainly by the end of the month.”
“Unfortunate hiccup? Owen, do you realize that a man was brutally murdered on my property this morning? I’d say that’s a little more than an unfortunate hiccup”
Owen knew his words were a colossal mess before he had even spoken them. He didn’t need his seller to point it out, although he was glad she did. Now that the obvious disaster was out in the open, he just needed to get to a place where she was comfortable with him handling the cleanup. “Yes, and I’m sorry for not getting back to you sooner, it’s a bit chaotic down here.”
Joanne was quiet.
Owen could hear faint breath sounds, but feared letting her slide too deep into her own thoughts. He gently cleared his throat and then continued. “I’ve spoken to law enforcement and once they clear the scene, we should be able to proceed.”
