The Next World Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Olah, Jeff

  Natalie shot up. “Are they okay?”

  Harper and Gentry now surrounded Lucas, both gawking at the radio.

  “I don’t know, but Owen said that I need to be ready. That I needed to get the packs ready and bring the extra set of chains from the yard.”

  Noah squeezed his mother’s hand. “Don’t worry, Dad will be okay.”

  Ava pushed the chair away from the doorway and jogged the short distance, her eyes looking a lot like her mother’s. “What’s going on, and don’t lie to me, I’ve seen as much as anyone here.”

  Natalie reached for Ava with her free hand. “The truth?”

  “Please.”

  “The truth is that I have no idea what is going on. Not with your father, not with Kevin and not with any of this. What I do know is that there are others out there who have found us, and it looks like we’re going to have to leave.”

  “Where …” Ava looked around. “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a place. It’s not far, and it’s safe. No one can find us there and we won’t have to run anymore. This time it’s for—”

  The sound of the gates opening pulled Natalie’s attention toward the front door. She instinctively pulled Noah and Ava in behind her and turned to Lucas. “I’m taking them to the back.” Her face was now a muted shade of grey. “Please, do not let Owen leave before I get out there.”

  98

  Declan had always hated elevators. It wasn’t the waiting or the annoying vibration that shot through his heels, as much as it was the absolute lack of control. He could push the button and watch as it flashed from one floor to the next, but with the solar-powered generators blinking out every other hour, he was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

  The building had been completely without power for the better part of the last thirty days, and although he preferred his suite to any other place, the monotony was beginning to send him over the edge.

  But today was going to be different, special. And for more than one reason.

  He was going to kill two giant birds with one massive stone. He was going to fix the mistake he’d made all those weeks ago and at the same time show his people that they had chosen to follow the right man.

  Approaching the eighth floor, the elevator car began to slow. Declan looked at the touchpad and then at the doors as he leaned back, resting his weight against the rear wall. “What the hell is this?”

  There was a digitized voice that announced the floor and then the doors slowly began to part. Standing in the darkened hall, four feet back, Frederick stared at a handheld tablet and tapped at the screen. He didn’t appear to have noticed the elevator or Declan standing across from him.

  “Mr. Silva?”

  The smaller man jumped. He fumbled the tablet and was a half a second too late as it crashed to the floor, sliding into the elevator between Declan’s legs. Frederick tried to quickly apologize, but the moment seemed to elude him as he only managed four confused words.

  “Sorry … I wasn’t … there.”

  Declan waved him in, pointing toward the tablet. “Let’s go, we have work to do.”

  Frederick still appeared to be only half aware of what was happening, but hurried inside, scooped up the tablet, and moved to the wall near the control panel. After waiting for the doors to once again close, and swiping between a few different screens, he dabbed a line of sweat from his brow and turned to Declan. “I’m sorry, Mr. Declan; you caught me off guard. I was—”

  “Where are we, how many will we have by sundown?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Frederick nodded quickly, turning back to the tablet. “It looks like we’ll have at least ten, and as many as fifteen. I’m just waiting on word from team three. They’re having trouble getting back around the north end of town. We still got that big herd, and it looks like it’s growing.”

  If his suspicions were correct, Declan would only need half that many, but he also didn’t like the idea of going in short-staffed. Underestimating those people was what got him into this mess in the first place. And in that part of the city, he would be flying mostly blind. Better to have too many high-powered, deadly accurate weapons than not enough. Especially for what he had planned.

  “Okay, where’s Ms. Diaz? I don’t want her anywhere near this thing. I have a feeling she may …”

  Frederick had stopped listening. There was something he was staring at on his screen that had pulled him completely away from the conversation.

  Declan rubbed at his temples and waited.

  “Uh, sir?”

  He fought the urge to raise his voice. Instead, he counted to five and forced a weak grin. “What is it, Mr. Silva?”

  “This thing is dying again, but it looks like there’s a message from control. I can’t pull it up from in here, it’ll kill the battery, but it’s something about the audio feed from the Foundry.”

  “We already know that’s where Mercer and her family are—we got that intel this morning.”

  “No sir, it’s something else. We were able to remote in this afternoon, but I’m not sure what we got. It looks like it’s something new, they wouldn’t have wasted the message if it was something we already had.”

  The elevator moved past the second floor and was approaching the lobby when Declan pushed himself away from the wall. “The control room, I thought we powered it down before noon every day.”

  “I did too.”

  As the doors parted, Frederick stepped out first and held the tablet out in front of him, while glancing at the top left of the screen. “It might be quicker if we just head over and get it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  Crossing the lobby, Declan peered out toward the street. A few dozen Feeders had gathered on the sidewalk, most unaware they were being watched. They grouped in twos and threes, slower now than the week before. Their tattered clothing and torn skin hung from their bony frames like wire hangers thrown carelessly into the back of a closet.

  When he turned back, he noticed Frederick staring at his legs. It was something he’d almost gotten used to over the last sixty days, but this time he was finally going to ask. “So, what is it? Is it the awkward limp that looks like my calves have cramped, or are you just curious to see what they look like?”

  “Uh …”

  Declan grimaced as he slowed to a stop five feet from a set of double doors beside what was once a reception desk. “I can guarantee you that the rumors are not even close to what I’ve got beneath these jeans. It’s like an old plate of lasagna, but now that the oozing has finally stopped, it looks even less appetizing.”

  “I don’t …” The smaller man rubbed at his face and looked away. “I’m okay.”

  “But you want to see it, I mean I know you do. I’m pretty sure every single person that calls this building home wants to know what it looks like and how it didn’t kill me. I still question it and I have to look at it every time I put my pants on. There aren’t any teeth marks, which is why I’m standing here today, but the amount of flesh those things were able to pull away with just their hands …” He paused, searching for the right way to convey what those two weeks were like. “Let’s just say that even though she explained it to me more times than I think were necessary, I still don’t understand why I’m still here.”

  Frederick just stared back, either unable to form a response or fearful of what his question might lead to. “I’m sorry for what happened—”

  The doors near the reception desk opened with a rush of air that pushed out into the lobby. Donna Diaz switched the lights off behind her and stepped out. She was smiling, but didn’t look like she was happy. It was a look of relief, a look that said she was eager to share. “You get the message?”

  Frederick held up the tablet. It was powered off. “Only the notification, this thing is dead.”

  Ms. Diaz let the doors swing shut behind her and looked to Declan. “Brody and his team located Goodwin’s chopper.”

  “I didn’t realize that we were even lookin
g for it.”

  “We weren’t. However, in attempting to get to Blackmore, they found the wreckage on the backside of the mountain.”

  “Any chance …”

  “They didn’t find a body, but he said that there was no way Goodwin could have survived the impact.”

  “And Blackmore?”

  “Nothing left of it, Brody said it’s like a war zone out there.”

  Declan began to turn away. “Okay then, are we ready for tonight?”

  “There’s something else.”

  Declan’s back was beginning to cramp. “Yes?”

  “It’s the Foundry, we located—”

  “Yes, I know. Natalie Mercer and her family.”

  “That’s not all. I was able to remote into their audio and video feeds. We’ve finally found him.”

  “Found who?”

  “Dr. Dominic Gentry, it’s him. I confirmed it myself.”

  There was an instant rush of adrenaline that surged through every inch of his wrecked body. His heart thundered in his chest and for the first time in weeks, Declan actually felt like he was alive. The pain in his back and legs momentarily subsiding, his mind began to race at the possibilities. “Dominic Gentry?”

  She nodded quickly, her eyes darting between Declan and Fredrick. “Yes.”

  Declan paused for a beat, turning back to face the street, and the city beyond. “Is there a chance they know we patched into their system?”

  Ms. Diaz again nodded, this time avoiding his eyes. “Yes, but it shouldn’t—”

  “Okay, reroute Brody and his team. Give them the coordinates and ask them to stand by. Make sure everyone else is ready to go in thirty. I don’t care how it happens or what we have to do, I want Gentry and Mercer standing in this exact spot before the sun goes down.”

  99

  The sound of gunfire had long since died away, but he was sure he was close. He remembered counting four or five, maybe a few more, he couldn’t be absolutely sure. At one point he even thought it had started up again, although now that more than an hour had passed, he was beginning to second guess himself.

  With less than two hours before the city would go dark, he hurried up onto the sidewalk and crouched beside what appeared to be a white Ford sedan. However, through the thick layer of dust and debris, it just as easily could have been a metallic grey.

  He pushed his back into the door and pulled out a warm bottle of Gatorade. Before unscrewing the top, he peered across the sidewalk, into the glass of what was once a high-end consignment store and at his own reflection. It was slightly muted, but the man staring back wasn’t even vaguely familiar. He wore a patchy brown beard, black circles ringing his hazel eyes, and a dark hoodie that he had pulled up over his head.

  Taking a long pull from the plastic bottle, he dropped it into his charcoal colored backpack and reached for the black leather square that for whatever reason, seemed to catch his eye.

  His wallet was thin and tattered. The young man in the dark hoodie ran his right index finger over the worn leather, flipped it on its side, and cracked it open. Four card slots, two on each side, of which only three were occupied. The top right was a credit card that appeared to have seen more use than the wallet. Next to that, on the top left was an insurance card. It stated, in boldface type, that his prescription co-pay was a flat ten dollars, and office visits were twice that.

  The slot below was familiar. He tilted his head to the left, pulled out his driver’s license, and looked from it, to his reflection and then back again. The two men were markedly different. The new updated version looked like he weighed at least twenty pound less and had aged a full ten years in a matter of months.

  He smiled at the difference and what it meant, and also what it had taken for him to get here. He left more than a week before without more than a few days’ worth of food and a gut churning hunch. If he found what he was out here for, he had a real chance at saving the world, although if he died in the process, no one would be the wiser.

  Well except for him, and for now he was okay with that.

  Sliding his license back into the wallet, he read his name in his head. It sounded unfamiliar. Like someone he only shared a few classes with in high school. Like the name of an actor in a movie he couldn’t even remember the title of, like all those things from his former life that he once enjoyed, but wanted to forget because they no longer existed in this hell.

  To his right and a block down, there were long shadows that reached out onto the sidewalk and then dipped into the street. From his narrow vantage it looked to be two or three, maybe as many as five. They were moving at a slow walk, either being careful or unfamiliar with the area.

  The man in the dark hoodie pushed back up to his feet and moved around the front of the Ford. Resting his pack against the bumper, he tucked his wallet away, slipped the straps over his shoulders and reached for his rifle.

  “Here we go.”

  With the rifle pulled into his shoulder, his right eye behind the scope, and the stock resting on the hood, he was surprised to see that there were six men followed closely by a newer model electric vehicle. It made almost no sound as it rolled out into the street and turned left.

  The man out front, tall and stocky, carried a pistol in each hand, and a shotgun slung over his back. He stopped when he reached the middle of the street, held his right arm in the air, and as the others also slowed to a stop, turned and scanned the long city block.

  “Hold up!” The man’s voice was throaty, like he was fighting a cold or was a pack-a-day smoker. He spat on the street, taking his time looking slowly from one storefront to the next. And turning back to the stalled electric vehicle, he stared through the windshield, and pointed toward the opposite end of the street. “Two hundred, maybe three hundred yards.”

  There was a voice from the car, but it was lost to the distance, definitely a male, but not much else was certain. The man in the street nodded and quickly looked back over his left shoulder.

  He slid toward the middle of the hood, pulled back the rifle, and prayed he hadn’t been spotted. The man fifty yards away craned his neck to the left, to the right, and then took a few steps toward the opposite sidewalk.

  Don’t overreact. Watch and wait, see where this goes. You’ve got an out if you need it, so just relax.

  After a count of three, the man turned and addressed the others. “No,” he said, “we’re going to have to go around.”

  The voice from the car responded, the words coming fast, although still not enough volume to cover half the distance. The man then took one last glance over his shoulder, turned, and started to walk away.

  “Keep your mouths closed and your eyes open gentlemen, we’re close.”

  With that, the group turned away. Now eight men, three leading the small silver vehicle, three trailing, and one on each side. Their paced quickened as they broke into a jog and turned the corner at the intersection a quarter mile on.

  As the last man disappeared behind a pair of delivery vans backed into one another, he moved quickly back to the sidewalk, and knelt beside the curb. Adjusting his pack, the man in the dark hoodie pulled the straps tight, and rolled the stiffness from his neck.

  “Okay Devin, it’s time. Quick and quiet. You’re only gonna get one shot at this.”

  100

  Natalie was standing at the door when he came up the paved walkway. It smelled like rain and although the sun was still putting up a fight, clouds the color of dirty water were rapidly consuming the western skyline. And with what was coming, that may actually be a good thing.

  Owen tried to forget the pain building in his temple as he drew to within twenty feet of the building. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to change the look on his face. She could read him like a book and right now he needed her to believe a different story. He needed her to have confidence in what they were doing.

  “You ready for this?”

  She looked like she was doing the same thing. He could see the tension in
the way the sides of her eyes drew tight and how she was pulling in breaths through her nose. She was trying to avoid hyperventilating.

  “The kids.”

  “We went over this. You, the kids, and Harper and Gentry won’t be anywhere around.”

  “I still don’t like it, what if they—”

  “It won’t matter what they do, we’ve got every angle covered.”

  “What if they know, what if Gentry was right?”

  Owen didn’t have the time to convince her that this was going to work, or that his children were going to be safe, or that he even knew what he was doing. Because he didn’t … and he hadn’t. Not in a very long time. He was just taking each new catastrophe as it presented itself and applying the same mantra. Whatever gets his family to the next day, whatever has to be done.

  He stepped to her, pulled her in close and laid his head next to hers. “I’m going to get you through this, the kids too, and our friends. We’re all going to get to the other side, I promise you. Just let me do this.”

  She cupped the sides of his face and kissed his cheek, then moved to his lips and lingered. He could taste her fear. When she pulled back, she looked into his eyes and then kissed him again, this time more gently. “I know you will. Just make sure you’re still you when all this is done. I want Owen Mercer back. The Owen Mercer I married, the Owen Mercer who knows exactly how I like my coffee in the morning and who gives me crap for it. That’s the promise I want from you.”

  He didn’t say anything; it wasn’t necessary. He only kissed her back and motioned into the building. “Make sure you don’t mention anything about what you’re doing, at least not until you’re on the road. Gentry doesn’t need to know and neither does Harper or the kids.”

  She nodded quickly, tears beginning to build in her eyes. “Four hours, and then I’m coming back.”