by John O'Brien
Return
( A New World - 2 )
John O'brien
Safety is the dream.
Nightmare is the reality. A nightmare where danger lurks around every corner.
Jack Walker, journeyed half way around the world and completed his daring rescue. He must now return home, traversing a world filled with endless hordes of night runners; the genetically altered, ferocious species that now inhabit the dark recesses left over from the demise of mankind and now dominate the planet. The only things more dominate are the billions of corpses left to rot where they died.
It is through this world that Jack must use his special forces training to lead a small group of survivors back home to where there is the faint hope of sanctuary. His training is pushed to the limits as he is confronted with situation after situation coming face to face with the night runners. He must walk that delicate, fine edge between action and keeping his kids out of harm's way; between taking risks and turning away as he continues his quest for survival.
Never having walked away from risky situations, Jack must now carefully weigh his decisions as the stakes are much higher. His kids' very safety hangs in the balance, along with the safety of the few remaining survivors. This gripping, action-packed tale tells Jack's story of survival in a post-apocalyptic world filled with peril.
Safety is the dream.
Nightmare is the reality. Those who have survived remember a time when the dream was the reality. But now, the world has moved on.
A NEW WORLD:
RETURN
A Novel by John O’Brien
Dedicated to my mother, June O’Brien. Thank you for all of your help, all that you do, and for making this book and series possible.
Author’s Notice
The New World series is a fictional work. While some of the locations in the series describe actual locations, this is intended only to lend an authentic theme. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Prologue
The sound of feet running behind him was constant as he ran through the darkened streets. On this clear, summer night, the moon was out and almost full causing his skin to tingle only slightly from the reflected light. It wasn’t as bad as when the other bright light, which caused immediate and intense pain, was in the sky.
He and his pack of seven behind him were out searching for something to eat as they did most every night. He became leader of this pack because of his greater strength and ability to locate food. There was food to be had in plenty, it was just a matter of finding it before the other packs did or had a chance to get away. There was the two-legged and four-legged kind — that was how he thought of them. They had found and chased down one of the four-legged ones last night; large enough for the whole pack to feed. The two-legged ones were his favorite but were becoming hard to find. Plus, they had to be cautious as he had lost several of his pack to them. They were smart and crafty and had to be taken with care. That was another reason he was the pack leader, most of the other of his kind would rush blindly at them in a persistent manner. Sometimes this worked and sometimes they paid for their rashness.
His thoughts did not come to him in the form of words but more in images and smells. He was cunning and could think through situations, finding ways to get food and other things they needed, but it was not a familiar thinking pattern. The pattern consisted of images that were similar to complete pictures that tell a story; both simple and complex in nature. He hunted primarily by means of smell and had become adept at picking up the faint smells of food, sometimes up to a couple hundred yards away if the wind was right. The scent was different somehow than the smell of everything else. It was more like a warm scent, if a smell could have a sense about it, along with a certain sweet mustiness. The smell from the others of his kind was not appealing in a food sense. No, there would not be any form of cannibalism there.
Not that he thought along those exact lines as he ran through the streets. Up ahead, he saw the flash of another, smaller pack quickly cross his path several streets up; vanishing quickly into a side street as he listened to their echoing footfalls diminish. Along with his heightened sense of smell, his vision at night was adequate as he was able to pick out the varying shades of gray relatively well and it seemed to improve almost nightly. The moon certainly helped.
Buildings continued to pass by as he ran through various streets in a search pattern trying to pick up the scent or sight of food. One large building he passed by had two circles around a central dot on it. For some reason this triggered something inside his mind; almost like he knew what that symbol meant. The flash of a memory passed through, the meaning hanging there just out of reach but tantalizingly close; like the name of a song remembered from long ago but forgotten and keeping just outside the grasp of knowing or comprehension. His mind was actually remembering and, for a brief moment, he thought he knew he had been someone or something else before. Then, the brief opening of the mind closed, shutting the memory or even the memory of having a memory off.
The pack stopped behind him as he stopped and were searching the area for the reason. Food was plentiful so there wasn’t any danger of being attacked by competing packs but there were other dangers. Packs of four-legged ones sometimes attacked the smaller packs of his kind so they kept a watch out for them. On occasion, some of the two-legged ones were out hunting and those were the dangerous ones. There was something compelling about the other two-legged ones that caused something inside the pack to want to attack them on sight.
Forgetting why he stopped in the first place, he started his jog once again and, after a short distance, caught the warm scent of life and food. Coming to another stop, he sought to ascertain its direction. The scents in this area swirled around the streets and buildings making it hard to accurately tell exactly where the food was located. This smell was of the two-legged kind and the light intensity of it indicated that there was only one or two of them. He stood sniffing the air and, suddenly knowing exactly where the scent was coming from, started in that direction.
Rounding a building, he saw one of the other two-legged crouching outside of one of its lairs, trying to sneak through the night. Sometimes they seemed so stupid that he could not fathom how they were a danger. Did that one not know he could see him crouching there in the open?
Signaling his pack to spread out with grunts and signaling with his hands, he turned in mid stride toward the two-legged one. Letting out a scream to let the other packs in the area know they had found food - an instinctive reaction he could not help - he launched himself toward the crouched one in ever-quickening strides. The two-legged one turned toward him and let out its own scream and tried to run but it was too late. To his left, one of his pack members launched itself over a fence and tackled the two-legged one in mid air just as the food turned the corner into the yard of one of its lairs. It was over in seconds and the rending of flesh began.
Out of the corner of his eye, the pack leader saw another of the two-legged ones leap a fence several yards away. Giving a signal to several of his pack, they launched themselves after the one fleeing. Several minutes later, he heard one of his give a shriek of finding. It was followed by a couple of the loud bangs that sometimes accompanied the ones who ran on two legs. Those bangs were the danger and were what caused him to lose some of his pack earlier on. The ones he had sent out returned a short time later with another food. He had sent out four but only two returned. He had lost more of his pack but they ate well that night.
They weren’t quite finished with the second one when the glow in the sky indicated the return of the bright light. It wasn’t so much of an actual glow but more of a hint of the sky lightening. The small lights in the sky in that direction started to fade so
it was time to leave and head back to their shelter. With this, there was no hesitation with any of them or the other packs. They had all felt the intense burning and heat of the bright light. Those who were caught in even a glimpse or hint of that bright light for more than a couple of seconds died.
And so it was with haste that they retreated to the building where they stayed accompanied by the sound of many packs heading to their own lairs. The night filled with the sound of feet slapping on the pavement; not the paced jogging of the hunt but an all-out run. The streets quickly emptied. The time of the other two-legged ones was coming. They lost two this night but others would come to fill the gap. There were still single ones or in twos or threes running around just waiting for a pack to scoop them up.
Stepping into the broken door to the building where they holed up during the day, he trekked up the stairs and into the darkened room where they slept. He chose this room because it had no place to the outside where the light could shine through. He was tired and laid down with his pack, nestled together for warmth; some nights closer together and others spread out depending on the heat of the day. He kept closest to the entry because he was the strongest, their leader, and that was his place.
As he lay there, a certain musky scent came to his nostrils; a scent that aroused an even more animalistic nature inside of him and one he could not resist. He rolled over to find one of his already trying to couple with the female in his pack. He pushed the one aside with a warning grunt and mated falling asleep shortly thereafter. He felt content but in a slightly different way than we would know or understand.
Island Paradise
Leveling the aircraft off at flight level 200, I set a course back to the Azores and turn on the autopilot. I am exhausted from the complete lack of sleep getting over to Kuwait but exhilarated at the same time. Against all odds, Lynn was alive; we had found and rescued her along with a small group of surviving military soldiers. We have enough personnel and weapons to be able to defend ourselves against most chance encounters with the things — we will definitely have to come up with a name for them as they don’t seem to be going away like disco or some other bad fad; I also plan to see that we don’t go away either — however, when they locate us and we are close to a populated zone, we can be overwhelmed easily if we are not properly prepared as Lynn and her group almost found out. Even with a secure location, their numbers and tenacity will eventually overcome us unless we can prepare some form of impregnable fortress.
I am worried about what our arrival back in the Azores will be like seeing how we left it. There is one very irritated general we will have to deal with, but I did say we would head back and will feel guilty if I bypass them over a little unease. Leaving them stranded on the island with no hope of leaving and without supplies would not be cool. Especially after they did help us out with fuel, and Colonel Wilson did stick his neck out for us. No, I will go back for that alone.
But first it is time to compare notes with those we found in Kuwait and let them know what may be in store for us on our arrival into Lajes. I also feel that Bannerman and I need to have a little conversation about the leadership aspect. I do know where he is coming from with regards to rank and all of them being soldiers, but frankly, I am not feeling a tremendous amount of confidence in his leadership ability. Not that I truly have anything to base it on; it is really more of a feeling. Perhaps it was him trying to force his rank the way he did. Maybe we just started off on the wrong foot and he is really a pretty good guy. He may be a great leader — after all, they did get out of there alive against a tremendous horde besieging them. I think I need a little more information and will talk it over with Lynn first. I cannot tell you just how happy and relieved I am to see her and that she is, well, alive.
“You have it for a little bit. Are you okay with that?” I ask Robert looking in his direction.
He startles out of whatever reverie he was in, perhaps just him being as tired as I am, and looks over. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Disconnecting my shoulder restraints and lap belt, Brianna pipes in before I unhook from the intercom, “Dad, do you really think that’s a good idea?”
I look back at her, seeing her eyes a touch wider than normal and glancing between Robert, the instrument panels, and me. “Shut up Bri! I said I got it,” Robert chimes in before I can answer.
“Easy now,” I say running a last check on the instruments. “It’s on autopilot Bri and I’ll be up quickly if anything happens. Besides, Robert’s a pretty good stick and he’s just monitoring the systems. Michelle, come get me if anything goes wrong.”
“Okay, Jack,” Michelle answers. Bri remains silent in her engineer seat, obviously a little perturbed over being told to shut up by Robert.
“Bri, make sure you watch the fuel tanks and switch them to prevent an imbalance,” she responds with a thumbs up.
I cover what instrument readings to watch for with Robert, disconnect from the intercom, and set my helmet in the seat. With a last look at the Mediterranean flowing along underneath the nose, I rise, stretch the small of my back to work out the kinks, and walk down the stairs to the cargo compartment. I think of how strange it is that I just left the cockpit in complete charge of my kids and feel completely comfortable with that. How far we have come in the last few days, I think stepping into the cargo area. It’s amazing how our thinking and comfort levels change in response to a crisis.
The soldiers are all strapped in and sitting on the red nylon, pull-down seats along the fuselage; most have their heads down and rifles pointed upward between their legs. I catch Lynn’s eye and motion her over. Seeing her walk over, I realize just how lucky I am. Her short blond hair hangs limply down from being under her helmet for so long and her tired, blue eyes look up at me as she comes to stand before me. I reach out and give her a hug. Her initial response is to stiffen in my embrace because of the professionalism she carries in front of other soldiers but then she succumbs and relaxes, returning my hug and nestling her head on my shoulder.
The drone and vibrations of the engines are louder and stronger here making it difficult to talk without yelling. On the other hand, it also makes it more difficult for others to hear — and that’s a good thing considering the thoughts that come up feeling her pressed against me. We just stand there hugging each other for a moment as time stands still.
“It’s too bad we can’t find a private place for a moment or two. It’s, well, uh, been a while,” I whisper into her ear.
She chuckles in my ear before whispering back, “I know!”
“Perhaps when we land, we can go find a shipping container or something to duck around behind. I’m pretty sure we won’t need more than a couple of minutes. At least, I know I won’t.” It has been almost a year since we have seen each other in person and we have been faithful to each other in the interim.
“I may just tackle you the moment everyone is out of sight,” Lynn whispers.
“I could just kick everyone out of the cockpit and close the curtains. Although that may be a bit too obvious eh?”
She just answers with a soft sigh and nestles closer into my shoulder.
“Come sit with me a moment if you don’t mind. I want to talk a few things over with you before we bring the group together,” I say.
“God, it is so good to see you, babe! I really missed you!” I say once we are seated on the bunk and I am still thinking some alone time would be nice.
“You too! I’m so glad you made it and are okay. You have no idea just how worried I was and how much I missed you.”
“So tell me about Bannerman. I have a feeling there’s going to be some dissension about the ‘who’s in charge’ thing. Can he handle himself and lead this group?” I ask.
“Well, he doesn’t have any real combat experience. I’ve been leading for the most part. I think he’s okay with the logistics end of things, but I’m not sure about his ability to lead troops in combat.”
“Do you think he’ll do the ‘I’m in cha
rge and outrank you’ thing? I mean, I’ll follow anyone who knows what they’re doing and I have confidence in, but I have my kids to think about. And, well, you.”
Lynn flashes me a quick look. “I know you can handle yourself and very well,” I say before she can carry that look into words. “I just want to make sure we all have our best chance at survival.”
“I know, hon,” she replies. “And he may try to remain in charge. In his mind, he thinks we’re still a government military force. How are things back in the states? For real.”
“It’s not pretty. Most everything and everyone are gone. We had our own run-ins with those things on the way here everywhere we went. Not in the numbers it looked like you had to deal with, but enough to know that this is everywhere.”
Lynn nods and I see her fold inward to her own thoughts. I imagine her thoughts are leading her to think about her friends and family.
“Oh, dang, I almost forgot,” I say watching her eyes track back to mine. “I actually spoke with Craig and your mom.”
“What!? You’re kidding! When?” She asks, suddenly sitting more erect and alert.
“A couple of days ago. It was the weirdest thing. We were just past Chicago calling on the radio when out of the blue, we get a response. He was flying with your mom from Florida heading to, let me try and remember, somewhere in Ohio if I remember correctly.”
“He must be heading to my dad and sister,” she says with tears beginning to well in her eyes.
“Oh, and your cats were okay and with them. He’s going to try and meet us at McChord,” I say watching a single tear leak out and run down her cheek.
Lynn wipes the tear with the back of her hand, gives me a big smile, and kisses me on the cheek, “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”