The Dead Years Series Box Set

by Jeff Olah

  In the hour they played, Justin had not only learned to rocket himself from the swing and into the air, but also how to push off and fly farther with each leap. As his son landed and rolled to a stop, Mason would grab the measuring tape, hurry over and stretch it out. Together they would count out the number of feet and inches he covered with each consecutive jump, marking it with one of Justin’s tennis shoes. “Higher,” he begged to be pushed as Mason obliged before the countdown to launch.

  “Five… Four… Three… Two…One…”

  Giving an extra bit of force with the last push, Mason yelled, “Go,” just as April appeared at the back door causing Justin to release both hands prematurely and wave to his mother. The forward motion sent Justin head over heels into the air, while both Mason and April watched in horror. Their little boy cartwheeled in the air and landed in the planter to the left of the swing set, smashing the back of his head on the brick edging.

  The blood rushed out of the wound like a dam that had been breached. They both hurried to him as April pulled her cell phone from her purse and started to dial 911. Mason knelt next to their son, pulled off his shirt and pressed it against the wound. “Hang up the phone,” he said. “We’re driving him ourselves,” knowing there was no time to wait for an ambulance.

  April didn’t think; she only reacted. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what had happened in the span of the last five minutes. She opened the car’s back door for Mason and jumped into the driver’s seat. Mason talked to their son, keeping him conscious as April drove like his life depended on it—and for all she knew it did. With the hospital only two miles away, the doctors told them they did the right thing. Justin went limp and lost consciousness the instant they entered emergency room.

  “HELP, PLEASE HELP!” April screamed as she ran ahead of Mason through the exceedingly crowded waiting room. Upon seeing the look of terror on their faces and the boy’s lifeless body, hospital staff whisked him away to a private room and found a quiet place for Mason and April to wait for the prognosis.

  The news wasn’t any easier to hear than it was for the Emergency Room Doctor to give. “Your son has suffered a major head trauma and has a fairly significant intracranial hemorrhage. We need to get him into surgery as soon as possible.” The decision was easy, what came next wasn’t.

  Within minutes of completing the surgery, they were notified once again by the doctor of even worse news. “Your son did well and we were able to stop the bleeding, although he is unresponsive to even the most basic stimuli. We believe it is due to the amount of pressure put on the brain over the last hour.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Mason asked.

  “Justin is recovering, although slower than we’d like. He may suffer long-term damage if we don’t take precautions soon.”

  “I’m sorry,” April said, “exactly what does that mean?”

  “We would like to put him in a medically induced coma until his brain has had time to properly heal. At that point, we can bring him back slowly and avoid any unnecessary strain, although we need to act now.”

  The forms were signed and they waited by their son’s side for three solid days. Neither even left for a meal. Staff brought by food when they could, although not much was eaten between the two grief-stricken parents. Many meals left the room the same way they entered, with only a few bites taken. April’s father even came by on the day after the accident. He spoke privately at length with the hospital administrator before walking into the room, kissing Justin on the head and heading back to the airport for God knows where.

  Seventy-seven hours later, almost to the minute, Justin began to open his eyes after slowly being brought back to this world. With his mother and father at his side, he smiled and blinked through the confusion. He had no recollection of any of the events that occurred after he saw April walk through the back door of the house. The doctor indicated that his recovery was “Remarkable” and that no one had come back so quickly from the type of injury Justin suffered.

  As if missing only one week of school wasn’t impressive enough, once he returned, Justin continued to excel at everything he did and scored off the charts in academics every year going forward. Mason and April were amazed, as were every one of his teachers, as he led most every class in every subject. The specialist they saw didn’t have an answer for what was happening and simply told them that he had no signs of any further problems and to just be grateful for his new “Gift.”

  They were grateful, although that was many years ago. Today they both silently hoped for the same luck.

  . . .

  “Mason, I think I found it.” Randy shouted from the driver’s seat.

  “Found what?” Mason said.

  “Look…”

  67

  Navigating through three lanes of stalled cars and decomposing bodies, Randy shifted to a lower gear and headed down the off ramp as the rain now pummeled everything in sight, angry at what the world had become. Exiting the highway, he turned the headlights off and came to stop at the bottom of the ramp. The streets were drenched and the gutters overflowing as Feeders roamed around outside the RV, now curious at sight of the giant rectangle on wheels. Before they had a chance to start toward them, Randy turned right and headed for the outdoor mall.

  Realizing they had changed course and were now off the highway, Mason stood and looked out the side window. He didn’t think anything good could come from them changing plans at this point. They needed to get to the beach house and somehow figure out a plan for helping their son. He leaned back into the room and whispered to April. “I’m gonna see what he’s doing. Stay with him and let me know if anything changes.”

  “OK,” she replied.

  Moving toward the front of the RV, trying to get a grasp as to where they were or why they were there, Mason stepped into the front cabin. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

  “Is he still burning up?” Randy asked.

  “Yeah, but we need to…”

  “Mason, we need to get him something to bring his fever down. His body can’t stay at that temperature too long without suffering serious damage.”

  “Randy… thanks, although I don’t know that ibuprofen is going to help him. You know that.”

  “Yes I know, but we still have to do something for the fever. Like right now! We can figure out the rest later.” Randy wasn’t completely convinced of this, although he needed Savannah to at least hear that there might be some sort of solution to their situation. She couldn’t take much more.

  The parking lot was empty, except for five lonely cars nearest the storefront. Each looked out of place as most stores were not yet complete. The pizza joint, along with the drug store four doors to the right, appeared to be the only ones finished and open for business at this end of the mall. Not wanting to take any chances, Randy pulled into the lot and parked nearest the exit as the rain continued to come down through the darkness, only broken by the full moon.

  “What’s your plan?” Mason asked.

  “I’m going in and get what we need. You stay here and make sure I get back across the lot. I don’t see any Feeders, although you never know.”

  Randy shifted the RV into park and checked their fuel. With less than a quarter tank left he turned the key, shutting down the engine. “Mason, how much farther to the beach house? I don’t think we’re getting gas anytime soon.”

  “Probably another five miles, we’ll make it there just fine.”

  “Good, take this,” he said, giving Mason one of two guns and sliding the other into his waistband along with two additional clips.

  As Randy slid out of the driver’s seat and moved around Mason, he had one final thought before stepping through the doorway. “If it comes down to it, you will need to do whatever’s necessary to keep the women and yourself safe. Don’t hesitate… not for one second. It’s not him anymore, remember that. He’s gone.”

  The pounding rain made it impossible for Randy to hear anything as he jumped out and began
cautiously running toward the buildings. Not quite halfway there, he was grabbed from behind and instinctively swung around, pulling out his weapon and chambering a round. Index finger firmly against the trigger and ready to obliterate his target, he realized just short of killing his friend that Mason had followed him out of the RV.

  “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Randy shouted above the torrential downpour.

  “I’M NOT DOING THAT TO MY SON… HE IS STILL MY SON! I CAN’T, I WON’T. I NEED YOU TO…”

  “GET BACK TO THE RV, MASON! WE’RE NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION. NOT NOW, NOT EVER!”

  “RANDY, YOU KNOW WHAT COMES NEXT AND I CAN’T DO IT. WE NEED YOU.”

  “NO MASON, THIS IS NOT MY PROBLEM! I’LL HELP WHERE I CAN, BUT NOT WITH THIS… I’M SORRY. GO BACK; YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER LEFT THE WOMEN ALONE WITH HIM!”

  The two men stood in silence in the middle of the dark lot as the night fell around them. Randy shook with anger for what he was asked to do. Mason originally brought him along only for protection. This was different, the dynamics had changed. The group now needed him for the dirty deeds the rest were uncomfortable doing. He knew staring at his former neighbor that things changed when Adam was shot in front of them and he didn’t react the same way the others did. If he would have, their group would have even less members than it did now.

  “GO BACK MASON, WE’RE NOT GOING TO FIGURE THIS OUT NOW AND THEY NEED YOU.”

  “I TOLD SAVANNAH WHAT TO DO IF…”

  Randy cursed and shook his head turning back toward the store, tucking the gun away once again. “WAIT!” Mason shouted. “THERE’S SOMEONE IN THERE.”

  “WHERE?”

  “IN THE DRUG STORE. GET DOWN!”

  The pair got as low as possible as they ran to the store. In the camouflage of the night, coupled with the heavy showers, they were confident in not being spotted. Shaking off the rain as they moved under the overhang at the front of the store, the men stood to the right and squinted into the windows, barely able to see anything inside.

  Coming from behind the hair products isle and nearing the front of the store, a lone man rummaged the shelves, throwing as much as he could fit into the already half-full shopping cart. Turning his attention to the vehicle parked in front of the store, Mason tapped Randy on the shoulder and pointed it out to him. No longer needing to shout he said, “Must be his.” Randy didn’t say a word.

  Mason continued. “Should we wait for him to leave and then go in?”

  “There’s no time, we need to get in and back out to the RV.”

  “He looks like a good guy and I’m sure he’s about to leave anyway.”

  “Go back to the RV Mason, I’ll go in alone.”

  Nothing was going to bring his son back and his wife needed him. Mason leaned back just as the man in the store turned his attention to movement outside. The man wasn’t sure what he had seen, although he knew there was something outside the store and the odds on favorite was a group of Feeders. They watched as the man walked in their direction and slowly raised his shotgun. They stepped forward, threw their hands in the air and came into full view with only a thin sheet of glass separating them from the weapon now trained on their heads.

  “WAIT,” Randy yelled as the man turned off the safety and fingered the trigger. “We don’t want any trouble. We just need…”

  “SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” The man said as he shuffled to the door and came out to confront them. “Put your gun down boy,” he said with a slow southern drawl to Mason, completely ignoring Randy.

  “Listen guy…” Mason said.

  “I SAID DROP YOUR WEAPON, THIS IS THE LAST TIME I ASK!”

  “Ok… Ok,” Mason said, although he had absolutely no intention of doing as requested. He instead gripped the nine millimeter that much tighter and readied himself. He’d seen enough.

  Out of nowhere the man appeared to have lost his train of thought. He winced through some sort of internal agony, shook his head and looked up, this time his attention focused on Randy. It was obvious this man hadn’t slept in days and was in really bad shape. His eyes were three shades of red and his pupils completely dilated. His front pockets were overflowing with the prescription medications he retrieved from inside the store and a few of the bottles spilled out onto the ground as his muscles convulsed. “She killed them, all of them and I’m going to kill her.”

  Mason finally spoke, trying to break this man’s thought process. “Hey bud, we understand.”

  “You don’t understand anything! You’re not coming in here and taking my stuff.”

  “We aren’t here for you. We just need a few things…”

  His eyes darted wildly back and forth as he interrupted Mason, “I’m not letting you do this to me again. You guys killed them for her. Now you’re going to pay!” He raised the shotgun once again, this time to Randy’s throat and blinked through the tears now rolling down his dirty face. “I’m sorry…”

  68

  The incessant pounding was so obnoxious that at times he couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from. The fire on the inside of his head boiled hotter with each passing minute and he couldn’t imagine the pain getting any worse. He screamed as loud and hard as he could, only his mouth wouldn’t open even wide enough to take a single breath and the sound remained inside his head. Every action his mind demanded went unheeded by the shallow unresponsiveness of the rest of his body. Justin hoped this was all a bad dream and that he’d wake up back in bed, although the pain originating from his lower leg reminded him that he’d been infected.

  Every conversation, every rain drop and for that matter every single sound from the outside world battered his eardrums as he lay seemingly unconscious on the bed in the rear of the RV. His mother, now seated next to him, caressed his face and talked in hushed tones to what he could only imagine was Savannah. They were concerned for him, although they spoke as if he was already gone. He wanted to sit up straight and let them know he was still here, although he could feel himself being pulled in the opposite direction by a force much stronger than his will to survive.

  . . .

  Her back against the door frame and her head hung low, Savannah, still mourning Adam’s demise, wanted to be strong for this woman she’d only met a few weeks ago. They hadn’t really gotten to know one another as they were both caring for others since the world died just a short time ago. Tears continued to make their way down her cheeks and dropped from her chin to the ground as she wiped her face once again. Leaning in she laid her hand on April’s shoulder and spoke quietly, “We’re going to figure this out. Mason and Randy are two of the smartest, toughest guys I know and we will get through this… together, I promise.”

  “If my son doesn’t make it…”

  “April, we’ll figure it out. Justin will get through this.”

  “How do you know? No one can know that. We don’t even know what this is. He is out and for all we know he’s dying!” April said.

  “We need to stay strong, for each other and especially for Justin.”

  Looking down at her son and back at Savannah, April said, “If he doesn’t come back… I don’t want to live either.”

  There was nothing anyone could say at this point to console her and Savannah just wanted to get on with whatever they were going to do. The anticipation of what might happen grew by the second. She moved to the window and separated the curtains, peering out into the night, unable to see more than twenty feet from the RV. She’d hoped to see the men heading back with the medicine and wondered what they had in mind for the days ahead.

  With the slightest bit of optimism, she wanted to know what they would do if Justin were to wake up. No one seemed to want to talk about it, although it appeared inevitable. This caused her the most fear as the close quarters inside the RV would make any escape difficult for her and utterly impossible for April. She decided to stay close enough to the bedroom door so that she could reach in to grab April and also get out the main door in a reasonable amoun
t of time. Neither option thrilled her. “April, I’ll be back,” Savannah said as she moved to the front of the RV and rifled through the duffle bags. She withdrew a small caliber handgun and sat at the table, looking out through the main door into the heavy rain.

  “One, two, three, four…” April counted as she waited for her son to take another breath. “Eight, nine…” His chest finally expanded once again and she let out a sign of relief. Watching Justin slowly slip into whatever this was caused the headache from earlier in the day to come rushing back with a vengeance. Her eyes felt as if they were being pushed out of their sockets from the inside of her skull and this was still the least of her worries.

  Taking quick glances into the back of the RV from her spot at the table, Savannah tried to avoid eye contact with April as she continued to monitor the situation. She longed to close her eyes and drift off somewhere free of this mess and start over. The mental pictures of Adam being executed haunted her every thought. The sounds and smells of the field threatened to pull her back from sanity. The only reprieve she had from these haunting thoughts was listening to April’s voice. It wasn’t the words as much as it was the calming tone with which she spoke to Justin. It reminded her of her own mother’s voice.

  Growing up in a house with a different man around every other month was confusing for a child, and Savannah quickly learned to hate the frequent packing and unpacking of her life. Her own father decided months before Savannah’s first birthday that his own wants and needs overrode any concern for his family, so without warning, he left. Her mother was devastated for quite some time, although when she did rebound, she took revenge on every man that was unfortunate enough to court her. Savannah lost count of the men she met for the first time at the breakfast table long before she turned sixteen.

  Troy, the greasy mole of a man that finally tamed her mother, came from money, although you would never know it. He wouldn’t spend any more than he had to on Savannah or her mother and only very rarely did he even share his wealth with his two boys. Everyone hated this man and even though they secretly wished he’d die in his sleep, they treated him like a king. Savannah figured her mother was waiting around for the big score and that was why she acted the way she did. Any other man who treated her mom as badly as he did quickly saw the rear license plate, as she and her mother drove away.