The Dead Years-New Dawn (Book 1): Resurrection

by Olah, Jeff

  Ava squinted out of the corner of her right eye. She could see the thin man walking backwards and waving his arms.

  “Hey, over here. Let’s go, come on.”

  When they reached the road, the man carrying her stepped out away from the brush and adjusted her on his shoulder. She was small for her age, and light. The last time she remembered weighing herself she was only a few pounds over one hundred and was sure she had lost at least five pounds. If she’d been of average height and weight, this day might have turned out much different.

  “Where’s Vince?” It was the man who went for the car.

  She felt the man carrying her shake his head.

  “She’s still out?”

  “We ran into a small pack out there, he’ll be here in a minute.” The man carrying her turned from left to right, adjusting her once again. “But wait, where’s the kid?”

  The third man let out a laugh. “Oh yeah, guess he woke up and got the hell out of here.”

  And then she was moving again, the short man with the thick shoulders seemed to bounce a bit more now, probably trying to get her to come around. “Open the back door.”

  This was it. The tall thin man was busy and the third man didn’t seem to be of much use to anyone. It was now or never.

  The man carrying her bent at the waist and began lowering her into the car. Her arms slid over his back, her upper body coming off his shoulder, and as her feet contacted the ground she quickly stood and brought the palm of her right hand up into the man’s chin.

  The short stocky man reached for his face, his eyes going wide as Ava came around with a left to the side of his head. He stumbled back, wiped the blood that had started to run from his nose, and shook his head. “Big mistake little lady.”

  Ava quickly looked to her left. The third man stood there with his mouth open wide. Then back to the right. The open door blocked her escape. And finally back to the stocky man she’d just pounded. “I … uh, please just let me go. He won’t know, just tell him—”

  “Tell me what?”

  The thin man was back. She was now aware that his name was Vince. He stood at the side of the road, his black pistol extended from his right arm. “What did you want him to tell me?”

  Ava was out of ideas. She was back to acting on instinct. “MOM … DAD … HELP ME.”

  Vince raised his pistol. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  She didn’t know what to say. Her knees were back to shaking and she felt like she was going to be sick.

  “Now get in the backseat and sit down. You try anything else like that and I might have to let them take you home while I wait here for your mom. Isn’t she also a redhead?”

  Ava backed toward the door. She started to turn and climb in when a familiar voice came from the opposite side of the street.

  “Ava …”

  Mason stood just inside the treeline, a step ahead of Lucas. He looked past the black electric vehicle toward Vince. “Let her go right now and that will be it. I’ll let you and your friends go back home and live to see another sunrise.”

  Vince curled up his lip. It looked like he was going to smile, but then said, “You have no idea what it is your doing—trust me.”

  Mason continued from where he left off. “But if you don’t, if you harm even one hair on her head, I will kill every single one of you. I’ll pull you apart one limb at a time and make you watch as the blood drains from your useless corpse. I’ll go back to where you live and I’ll make sure that every single member of your ridiculous cult knows my name.”

  The thin man seemed to be thinking it over. He looked to each of the other two men, at Ava, and then finally back to Mason. “I don’t think so.” He pointed the weapon in his right hand at Mason and fired two quick shots.

  The first went low and to the left, the second struck Mason in the head, sending him into the tree to his right and then to the ground.

  Ava ran at the man with the gun. “NOOOOOO!”

  7

  Mason woke to an obnoxious banging in his ears and the left side of his head on fire. His vision was blurry, maybe forty percent of what it should have been. He swallowed blood, tried to sit up, and reached for his ear.

  “No, no, no, Mason hold on. Let me get a look at it.”

  Lucas was hunched over him. He cradled Mason’s head and brushed the hair away from the area that felt like it was melting.

  “What happened?” Mason remembered the man firing his weapon and knew that he’d been hit, although it seemed like hours had passed.

  “You’re not gonna like this.” Lucas was trying his best to sound composed. “But I gotta get you up, we have to move.”

  There was blood, a whole lot of blood, but the pain was only maybe a seven. He’d been through worse and although he didn’t think he could run a marathon, he figured he could at least stand.

  “Okay.”

  Lucas backed away. “Give me a second and I’ll help you stand.”

  There was a rustling behind him. It sounded like Lucas was wrestling with someone. A few grunts, three rapid thuds, and then the twenty-one year old was back. He moved in quickly behind Mason and grabbed him under the arms. “You ready?”

  Mason sucked in through his nose, clenched his jaw, and gave a thumbs up.

  As he got to his feet, he could see why his young friend was bordering on frantic. There had to be at least two dozen Feeders in a massive half circle closing in on them. There was one way out, back into the trees; however that path was quickly closing off as well.

  Lucas slipped his arm around Mason’s back trying to get him steady on his feet. He took a few test steps and pointed to a spot thirty yards ahead. “We get there and we’re golden.”

  Mason’s vision was better, now nearing eighty percent. The pain was worse than before, but he figured he could walk on his own, maybe even run if he had to.

  “Okay,” Mason said, “I can do this, I think I’m good.”

  Lucas allowed his grip on Mason’s shirt to relax a bit, but he stayed with him. “Let’s give it another minute.”

  They slowed near the edge of an expansive greenbelt. Probably fifty yards from end to end, and then a straight shot to the trail leading to the rear gates of Harbor Crest. On their own and at a full sprint, they could reach the other side with no problem. Although in Mason’s current state and with the crowd close behind, it would be a roll of the dice.

  Also, there was activity near the left flank. A handful of infected, maybe more. They hadn’t noticed Lucas walking with Mason, but it was only a matter of time.

  “I can lead them away.” Lucas motioned back over his shoulder. “Take them back toward the road.”

  “No,” Mason said, “we’ve got to get back and let the others know about Ava, get Owen and Natalie out of there before—”

  “I got Owen on the radio when those men drove away. He and Natalie are headed back. I told them we’d meet them there.”

  Mason wiped at the blood running down his chin and into his shirt. “Did you tell them what happened back there?”

  Lucas shook his head. “No, there wasn’t time.”

  “Good,” Mason said, “let’s wait till we get back. The details don’t much matter, not right now anyway.”

  Lucas went quiet. His shoulders tensed up and as he turned to look away, he sighed heavily.

  “We’re going to get Ava back, I promise you that. I know those people and they aren’t going to hurt her. That man, if he had wanted to kill me, he would have.”

  Lucas released Mason and stepped away. “I don’t know. They said things had changed between our communities. They said we weren’t in charge anymore.”

  Mason closed his eyes for a moment, the pain thundering in his head with the beat of his heart. “That’s not what Lincoln and his people are about. They aren’t a violent group, I mean …” He realized the absurdity of his statement as it was leaving his mouth.

  Lucas watched the group thirty yards away as it continued t
o grow in size. “We have to go.”

  There wasn’t much else Mason could say. He’d come across Lincoln’s men unprepared, and without a means to bargain. This had only ever happened once before and it ended with the death of two of the people he loved more than anything.

  He wasn’t about to let that happen again, no matter the personal cost.

  Lucas stepped out first and moved quickly to the right.

  Mason stayed within a few paces and because protocol dictated that he continually scan the massive greenbelt every few seconds, his head began to go fuzzy, his legs unsteady.

  “You okay?” Lucas had noticed he was falling back.

  “That the trail up there?”

  “Yeah, just another few minutes. You gonna be alright?”

  “Why, don’t I look like the picture of health?”

  Lucas smiled—he almost laughed. “You actually look like crap, like one of them. Your face is whiter than it was last January, and with that blood running down into your neck, you better be careful someone doesn’t knife you in the head.”

  He needed this. It was keeping his mind off the pain of the last few minutes, both literally and figuratively. Before the world died, they’d always said laughter was the best medicine, and at the moment he couldn’t have agreed more. “So I’m not getting your vote for Miss Harbor Crest this year? I mean, it was the only thing I was looking forward to.”

  Lucas just shook his head. He appeared to see what Mason was doing and wasn’t into it. He took a quick glance at the crowd to the left and then those approaching from the rear. “Can you jog?”

  “Are we racing?”

  Again Mason’s attempt at changing the tone of the conversation had fallen flat. Lucas didn’t respond, and instead increased his pace, motioning for him to follow suit. “Come on.”

  They slow jogged for a few minutes, and as the open space of the massive greenbelt bled into the edge of the trail and the rear walls of Harbor Crest appeared in the distance, Mason slowed to a stop. “Hey …”

  Lucas also slowed, but continued on for another ten feet. When he finally stopped he didn’t turn. “Yeah?”

  “When we get inside, go find Travis and hang out at security.”

  “What about … I mean, shouldn’t I go—”

  Mason could see where he was headed. “Not right now. First you need to see Dr. Gentry or Emma. Then go get your head right. Travis will get you there.”

  Lucas began to nod. “What are you going to do?”

  Mason pulled the radio from his hip. “Travis?”

  His friend was quick, only a few seconds. “You okay, you with Lucas?”

  “We’re okay.”

  “Good, people are starting to ask questions.”

  The pain in Mason’s head was now beginning to radiate down into his neck. He breathed in through his nose, and then blew it out real slow. “You got eyes on Owen and Nat?”

  “Harper’s bringing them in now.”

  “Can you have her take them out to the docks? I’d like to talk to them first.”

  “Sure.” Travis paused. “But don’t you need to get your head looked at?”

  Lucas must have radioed in while he was out. “I’m fine, it’s just a graze.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Just make sure Harper brings Owen and Nat around back.”

  “Ten-four.”

  Mason tucked the radio back into his pants and turned to Lucas. “We’re gonna get her back and you’re going to help me. But for now, go see Travis. I’ll come find you in a few hours.”

  8

  Mason uncapped the bottle of water he’d retrieved from the stash at the rear gate and filled his left hand. He looked out over the rear lot and told himself that he needed to feel the pain that was about to come, that it was going to keep him alive, that it was nothing compared to what his friends were about to endure.

  He set the bottle aside and slipped a small piece of wood between his teeth. Biting down hard, he used the water in his cupped left hand to scrub away the coagulated mess along the left side of his head. His eyes felt like they were going to push out of their sockets and the flame behind his left ear began slowly inching its way up the back of his skull. He let out a pathetic whimper that even surprised him.

  Mason spit the piece of wood out onto the concrete dock and wiped the sweat from his face. His eyes were watering and the nausea he had been expecting was finally drilling a hole through his lower intestines.

  Come on Mason, get it together.

  The whirring sound of the electric vehicle preceded its appearance at the north end of the lot. Mason stepped out away from the shadows afforded by the covered dock and started for the stairs.

  He dropped his head and walked quickly to the end of the dock, waiting as Harper pulled to a stop beside a pair of long since forgotten water tanker trucks.

  The front and rear passenger side door burst open at nearly the same time, Natalie shooting from the front seat and Owen slowly climbing out and following her away from the silver vehicle.

  “Mason, please …” Natalie had been crying before she got out, and now appeared to be on her way to a full-blown panic attack. “Please … please tell me where they took her. Please tell me Ava’s okay. I’m begging you.”

  There wasn’t much he could say, not anything that would make her feel any better. He had to tell her the truth and let the massive weight of it all sink in. It would hurt, he knew the pain, but there was a chance, more than a chance that Ava would be okay. However, at the moment, none of the details would matter. Her daughter was gone and that’s the only thing this mother could see.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Natalie came to him, threw her arms around him, and hugged him tight. Her face was a mess of tears and grief, and she shook as she quickly let go, her eyes drifting up to the left side of his head. “Oh my God, Mason, what happened to you?”

  He reached for her hand as Owen came and stood beside her. “Just a scratch, I’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Natalie said, “it’s bad, really bad. You need to have that looked at, like right now.” She wiped her face, looked to Owen and then back to Mason, another wave of anguish apparent in her eyes and on her face.

  “We’re going to get her back.” There wasn’t much else to say. “We will.”

  Owen took Natalie’s hand, but looked out toward the rear gates. He seemed to think a moment before speaking. “It was Lincoln’s men?”

  Mason knew that Owen knew the answer to that question, and also the reason his friend was asking. He slowly began to nod. “Yeah, Vince and two others I didn’t recognize.”

  Owen’s voice came out low, throaty, like a growl. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  Nearly a year ago, and as the memories of the massacre at UC Berkeley had begun to fade, Mason was itching to get back on the road. He had woken up one morning with a desire to see what else was out there.

  The group had sent scouts to other areas, even as far as two counties away, although the northern coast was mostly uncharted territory. He snuck out early, took one of the fully charged vehicles, and pointed the headlights toward Highway One.

  Less than thirty minutes in and a mile from the shore, he came across a horde much like he remembered from the early days of the outbreak. A massive wall of the infected covered the roadway from one side to the other, as deep and as far as he could see.

  He had two options.

  Turn around and go back home, or quickly find another way around. He didn’t like the idea of heading back nor the conversations he would have to have about the reasons he decided to go out on his own yet again.

  And scanning the road ahead, he noticed a pair of men fifty feet ahead waving him forward. An older man, tall and athletic looking, and a younger man, maybe a teen. They looked like they could be related, possibly father and son. They were calling out to him and motioning toward the side of the road.

  After pulling to a stop and lowering his window, the men hurried over
. The older man, probably in his late forties, looked back at the massive horde of Feeders and then back at Mason.

  “Son, you’re gonna need to go on foot from here.”

  That was the day he met Lincoln. The man never gave a last name and if Mason remembered correctly, said he no longer had one. He said that his surname died when the world did.

  Mason wound up spending two days and two nights with Lincoln and his people. Studying their ways and learning all he could about their life near the coast. How they planted crops and bartered with other communities. He even struck a tentative deal for the use of Harbor Crest’s newly constructed solar farm.

  But something had changed. Over the last few months people from Lincoln’s community had been traveling outside their predetermined zone. Supply runs in areas protected by Harbor Crest, and on at least two occasions showing up at the gates unannounced.

  And now this.

  Something was off, and Mason felt like it was time to once again get his hands dirty.

  He looked to Owen and then to Natalie. “I’m going to get her back. It won’t be easy, but Lincoln isn’t a stupid man. He’s not going to hurt her.”

  Owen swallowed hard, looked like he was having a hard time forming his next question. “How do you know? How can you be so certain? This is my little girl we’re talking about—not some random stranger.”

  Mason tried to offer a reassuring smile. “I know because Lincoln knows who I am. He knows what I’m about and what I’ve lost. He knows things about me that most people behind these walls would be shocked to hear. He knows these things because they are things I needed him to know before we set our agreement. Trust me, he’s not going to hurt your little girl.”

  Natalie looked like she softened a bit, like she saw what Mason had described as a bit of good news. “Okay, what now?”

  “Give me an hour.” Mason looked back toward the former abandoned mall he now called home. “I’ll come find you and give you the details when I’m ready to leave.”

  9