The Dead Years Series Box Set

by Jeff Olah

  Their attention turned to Building Six as the next wave of Feeders poured out into the courtyard, Mason and Randy continued to fight off the growing horde. With her husband occupied, April broke free. She stumbled forward, falling to the grass and moved to her mother. Focusing on the men in the middle of the clearing April held her mother tight and begged for mercy.

  Goodwin turned to the women and shouted above the intermittent gunfire. “He did this. Your father… your husband. He is to blame. Say goodbye…”

  Marcus Goodwin pressed the cold steel of his forty five caliber pistol into Richard Daniels temple and squeezed the trigger.

  110

  He hadn’t seen another vehicle for miles. Nothing moved in the opposite direction along this two lane highway and the path leading into the mountains had yet to make its appearance. The sun soaked foothills out the right side of the SUV slowly returning to life after the passing rain indicated that the coming hours would be anything but enjoyable. The altitude increased with each passing minute as the first signs of day’s old snow began to dot the side of the road; he was close and could feel it.

  The GPS had changed from a solid stream of green to blinking red within the last few hours. He had no idea what this meant and without the benefit of turn by turn directions, he wasn’t sure he’d even get there. Following them for as long as he could before they disappeared into the hills, he wondered if this tiny black box was even pointing him in the right direction. Obviously a military knock off, it displayed no street names and only frequently flashed the direction he was headed. The fuel gauge pegged on empty, he knew he needed to refuel, although the fear of losing the signal kept his foot firmly placed atop the gas pedal.

  “COME ON!”

  Beginning to dose off once again, he cursed and slapped his face a few times for good measure. Feeling the grit of two weeks’ worth of growth against his still bloodstained right hand, he regretfully took a look into the fold down mirror stashed behind the driver’s side sun visor. “Wow…worse than expected.”

  Lowering the window in an attempt to stave off any future bouts of sleep, the biting cold immediately put him on alert. The hum offered up from the massive tires racing along the blacktop began to annoy him just enough that he needed another form of distraction. Even though he told himself it’d be a complete waste of time, he shook his head, reached for the radio and turned it on… nothing but static, one channel after the next. Lowering the volume, he now at least had the white noise to occupy his mind as he weighed the consequences of stopping the SUV to refuel. With the two large gas tanks strapped to the rear, he was confident that he had more than enough fuel to get him where he needed to go; even if he was less than sure he’d survive the trip.

  Glancing back at the radio, he noticed the Seek button. “I’ve had worse ideas,” he said. Depressing the button, he listened as the radio slowly worked its way from one station to the next, never staying put for more than a few seconds as it searched for a live signal. Returning his focus to the road and to the internal debate of when to refuel, he realized the choice had just been made for him. The SUV lurched forward multiple times, desperately searching for its next breath of gasoline as he pulled to a stop along the side of the two lane road.

  He sat for a long moment, wondering what he was doing. Where would this end? What was he driving toward and why was he even going there? Nothing made sense and as he exited the SUV, a massive wall of fear overcame him as the first vehicle he’d seen in hours appeared on the horizon. Approaching from the opposite direction, the late model blue sedan reflected the tans and auburns of the surrounding foothills as it sped in his direction. Reaching back into the SUV, he grabbed the nine millimeter pistol from the passenger seat and used the back of his pant leg to remove what blood he could before slipping it into his waistband. Not wanting to appear threatening as the car rolled to a stop on the other side of the highway; he began removing the two reserve fuel tanks from the rear of the SUV.

  Setting the two large metal fuel containers alongside the SUV, he counted two individuals in the front seat. Due to the grit from days of driving along dusty highways, he was unable to make out anything beyond that. As the driver’s door opened, a pair of black laced oxford dress shoes hit the pavement. The gentleman slowly emerged from the vehicle, stretched his back and moved toward him. There were no obvious signs of struggle, no smattering of red fluid draped along his white button down dress shirt and very minimal wear on the dark pleated slacks he wore.

  As the man approached, he extended his right arm and looked for the same greeting. “Hello sir, my name is Michael. My wife and I are very hungry and are in desperate need of food and fuel. Would you have…”

  There was no food in the SUV and he hadn’t eaten anything himself for almost twenty-four hours. He didn’t want to get involved with these people. He wanted to fuel up and get on his way without having to interact with this man and his wife. The man, arm still extended, now stood directly to his left. “Nice to meet you, Michael,” he said as he made his way over to the driver’s door of the SUV and reached in to turn off the motor. As his right hand clutched the key ring, the radio finally found what it was searching for as it came upon a live station.

  “WE… ARE… STILL… HERE.”

  Four words poured from the speakers just before he pulled the keys from the ignition. His eyes glazed and his mind questioning what had just occurred, he spun to see the man backed against his vehicle with a similar reaction. Both men, unable to force a thought from their mouths, stared in silence at one another. There were others out in this world somewhere, they weren’t completely alone and he needed to find his friends. He needed answers from them, from all of them and especially from the man who tried to save his wife.

  He pushed away from the SUV and approached the man still quite confused. “Michael… my name is William. I was separated from my group of friends yesterday and I am going out to find them.”

  “You’re out here alone?” Michael asked.

  “For now, yes. I have been through hell in the last twenty-four hours and…”

  “Yeah, you look terrible. I apologize for coming on so strong. It’s just that my wife and I haven’t seen another human in two days. I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this.”

  “Listen, I really need to get back on the road. I can give you one of these tanks of gas but… there isn’t anything for you back that way,” William said pointing to the long stretch of highway he’d just covered. “It’s all bad.”

  “Back that way as well,” Michael said. “I’d appreciate the fuel though.”

  Each man clutched a can and moved to their vehicles. They began emptying the containers into the fuel tanks as Michael continued. “You married?”

  William ignored the question. The thought of explaining the story and what effect it would have on the man he just met was futile, not to mention what it would do to him. He pushed it aside for now. The images would come back at some point, he needed them to. But not now… not here.

  “William?”

  “I heard you… I am married, although my wife is gone,” William said.

  “She with your friends?”

  “No, she’s gone.”

  111

  As the sun began its long decent into the horizon, he leaned into the SUV and let his mind take a much needed break. The long trip to this point did nothing to ease his nerves. Like a cornered animal, any dispute would surely bring an exaggerated response. He needed a release, although he knew this wasn’t likely anytime soon. This was the first group of survivors he’d encountered in hours and they obviously had no idea how fortunate they were not running into him a hundred miles before. The images from the stadium played once again, as he fought to bury them. He didn’t want to live. He also didn’t want to think about why that was.

  Raising the can to empty the remaining fuel into his tank, William turned to see Michael also finishing off his portion. Dropping the can to the blacktop, he replaced the gas
cap and re-strapped the can to the rear of the SUV. With no need for the other one, he locked the rear compartment and made his way over to Michael for a quick chat before parting.

  Noticing William on his way over, Michael dropped the can before finishing and the remaining fuel poured from the spout and pooled near the roadside. He quickly covered the distance and met William near the center of the highway, nervously scanning the area. “Thank you for all the hospitality. I guess you’ll be on your way?” Michael said, extending his right hand once again. As he did, the pistol protruding from his waistband exposed itself.

  As if he didn’t see the gesture, William maintained the five foot gap between the two and pointed back toward his vehicle. “Yeah, not much daylight left. I’d better get on with it.” The twitch that was scarcely visible minutes ago now escalated into a full-fledged convulsion as Michael attempted to maintain his position between William and his car. Confused and partly curious, William nodded toward the sedan. “How’s the wife, she gonna say hello?”

  His movements more erratic as the seconds passed, Michael slowly slid his hand along his waist, trembling as he wiped his brow with the other. “No, she’s been trying to sleep. Terrible headache… you know how it is.”

  “Sure,” William said. “You OK partner?”

  “Yeah, just really stressed. All this stuff has me a little out of sorts.”

  Both men waited for the other to return to their side of the highway. Neither blinked and another ten seconds passed while they waited in silence for the other to speak. “Ok, well… good luck.” William said as he half turned.

  Michael drew his weapon and fired off a single shot. The vacant clicks that followed indicated his weapon was now empty. Surprised by his own actions, Michael dropped to his knees and began to weep. He attempted to kill a man who just offered to help and he didn’t know why. The round tore off into the distance completely missing William as he shielded his head and spun to face his attacker, his own weapon now in hand. “ARE YOU INSANE?” William shouted as he made a wide circle around Michael and moved toward the car.

  “Please don’t… she’s not… I mean, I didn’t have a choice.”

  Reaching out for the handle, William continued. “You tried to kill me, what on earth for?” He was going to find out, even as the man on his knees pled for him not to.

  “STOP, I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE, JUST LEAVE US… PLEASE. SHE’S NOT WELL AND YOU CAN’T HELP HER!”

  Readying his weapon, William had finally listened to all he could; the rage built in him until it was ready to be released from the end of his pistol. “Quiet… you need to shut your mouth, right now.” William moved quickly back to Michael and pushed the barrel of his nine millimeter into his temple. “If I hear one more word out of you, it will be your last… I assure you. Stay put!”

  Returning to the car and with no footsteps from behind, he pulled open the door and immediately dropped to one knee at the sight of the young woman strapped to the passenger seat. The familiar stench of the rotting corpse pulled at his gag reflex as he pushed away from the door and stood frozen. Looking from Michael and back to the woman’s body, it began to move. The plastic ties binding her wrist together dug deep into the flesh of her lower arms as she trashed about. Her torso and lower body were secured to the seat with what appeared to be tie down straps from an old pickup truck. Unable to emit even a single sound, the once beautiful brunette had her mouth shrouded in thick layers of duct tape.

  She writhed in silence as William addressed her husband. “Michael, this is your wife?”

  Without turning his gaze from the ground below, he answered. “Yes, that was until three days ago.”

  “You’ve had her strapped in here like this for three days? Why not let her go?”

  Pushing from the ground, Michael stood and approached the car. “She’s not one of them. She doesn’t have that in her nature. She’s good hearted. I couldn’t let her go with those things.”

  “You have to realize…”

  Interrupting and obviously agitated, Michael began to convulse once again. “Listen, I’m not going to put a bullet in my wife’s head, no matter what, and I’m not letting her loose to do what those things do.”

  “What is your plan, you can’t continue on like this. You’re going to drive yourself crazy,” William said.

  “You have no idea what I have been through and no right to judge. This world is different and I’m doing what I think I should. It’s my mistake to make. We are leaving!”

  His hands in the air as an indication of surrender, William stepped back, taking one final look into the vehicle. His look of confusion was apparent as his mind wouldn’t accept what his eyes were viewing. Portions of the woman’s upper arm were taken. Not while she was attacked by whatever changed her, but within the last few hours as the wounds were fresh. The skin was stripped from her left arm and shoulder, not at the mouth or hands of a Feeder, but by the razor sharp hunting knife positioned just inside the center console. This man was consuming the flesh of his dead wife.

  Weapon drawn, William backed toward the SUV. “Michael… what have you done?”

  Rounding the driver’s door, Michael tossed his empty handgun into the back seat and lowered his gaze. “You couldn’t possibly understand… there’s no way. We were married only two months ago. We were supposed to be together… forever. Now we will”

  The words were much more difficult to speak than he anticipated. “Michael…are you... attempting… to infect yourself?”

  Michael didn’t respond.

  William didn’t need him to.

  112

  Racing toward the horizon, the final traces of sunlight buried itself to the West as a deep silence collapsed over Blackmore. The war zone that was once the rear entrance to the facility slowed until all she focused on was her father. Face first on the ground, the last round fired left Major Daniels at the feet of his assailant. She could hear his voice even though the pair hadn’t spoken since the day of the outbreak. She could smell the musk of his cologne, although she hadn’t seen him in months. The image of him lying dead in the field wasn’t going to be her last memory of her father. It just couldn’t be.

  As Mason and Randy approached, she pulled free of her mother and locked eyes with her father’s murderer. Narrowing his gaze, Marcus Goodwin smiled at her before turning to his men. Pushing to stand, April started for Goodwin with every intention of making it to her father. She no longer feared death, she almost welcomed it. Her mother cried out as she was immediately grabbed from behind by Mason. He pulled her from behind, kicking and screaming to the block wall just to the rear of Building Six and out of the line of fire.

  The stench of rotting flesh and burnt gunpowder hung in the air as Randy struggled to coax Eleanor in behind the others. With the number of Feeders in the area beginning to dwindle, he turned his attention to the others who had started for the helicopter near the entrance. Noticing the door to Building One still open and the few remaining Feeders pouring out into the yard, Randy scanned the area for his cousin. Tessa and Parker managed to climb aboard and were holding the door for Savannah when he spotted her behind a growing horde.

  Laying down the last few Feeders that could possibly do them any harm and securing the area, Randy turned to Mason and pointed to Building One. “Get them back inside. I’m going after the others.”

  “Are you insane? There’s nothing back in that building for us,” Mason said.

  “Listen… we’re not getting off this mountain with that monster still here and once the building is clear, it’s our safest option. Get April and Eleanor back in there.”

  “What about Goodwin?”

  Firing off a few pot shots as cover, Randy moved from the safety the wall provided to evaluate just how much of a mess they still were going to have to deal with. Coming as more of a shock than the fact that they survived the tsunami of Feeders released from this facility, Goodwin hadn’t advanced from his position and was huddled with the last of his men
, motioning for them to retreat to the chopper. “I think he’s done with us, just get them inside. I’ll cover you and go for Savannah. Go to the Command Center and keep it secure until I get back, I don’t care what you have to do. Let’s go.”

  Bent over, her head in her hands and throbbing worse than ever, April fought her husband. As he pulled her toward the building and away from the chaos, she dug her heels into the soft dirt. Her mother, wide eyed and unable to speak, moved around and assisted Mason. The trio stayed behind Randy as he eliminated the last few Feeders on their way to the door.

  “NO, IT’S OVER, LET ME GO!” April said. The white noise began and her vision narrowed as tears ran down her bloodstained face. April went limp.

  Stepping in and scooping her up, Mason slung his wife over his left shoulder and motioned for Eleanor to follow. Still clutching the pistol in his right hand, he peered through the back door and noticed a straight shot to the Command Center door. “Randy you have to go; I’ve got it from here.” Turning to Eleanor he barked another command. “Grab ahold of your daughter’s hand and don’t let go. Stay focused on me, let’s go.”

  Through the door and twenty feet past the Command Center, they got the attention of three Feeders who started toward them. Mason stepped carefully through the liquid mess that had become the floor and raised his pistol as they advanced. The first shot battered his eardrums as it echoed through the halls and leveled the first Feeder, sending the others staggering to the floor. Covering the remaining ground quickly, they reached the door just ahead of their attackers as April returned to consciousness. She once again rebelled against any form of self-preservation and as Mason reached up for the door handle, she slapped his hand away.