The Next World (Book 3): Resurgence Read online

  The Next World

  RESURGENCE

  Jeff Olah

  Copyright © 2019 by Jeff Olah

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, locations and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is merely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

  . . .

  Visit the author’s website for free stories, behind the scenes extras and much more.

  www.JeffOlah.com

  BOOKS BY JEFF OLAH

  The Dead Years Series:

  ORIGINS

  THRESHOLD

  TURBULENCE

  BLACKMORE

  COLLAPSE

  VENGEANCE

  HOMECOMING

  RETRIBUTION

  ABSOLUTION

  The Last Outbreak Series:

  AWAKENING

  DEVASTATION

  DESPERATION

  REVOLUTION

  SALVATION

  More Stories:

  THE BONE COLLECTOR

  INTENT

  RATH

  Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  Epilogue

  What’s Next?

  Sneak peek of The Last Outbreak

  Sneak peek of The Dead Years

  About the Author

  1

  Miami Florida

  Seventeen Days before the Outbreak …

  Devin Fletcher stood in the hall outside the Administrator’s office. He was trying to block out the voice of the man with the heavy accent when patient zero crashed through the front doors of Shady Creek Assisted Living Facility. He couldn’t quite recall the exact details of what happened next, as it all seemed to come so fast. However, there was one thing that was certain. The day he buried his grandmother was one he wouldn’t soon forget. But not for the reasons one might think.

  It came in parts.

  Waves.

  Each escalating in intensity and aggression.

  First there was the ground-shaking detonation that pulled his attention away from the office across the hall. It sounded as though an eighteen wheeler had been driven right through the front doors of the senior living facility, all heads whipping back and to the right.

  “What the hell was that?” The woman in the blue turtleneck seated on the bench eight feet away dropped her purse and leapt to her feet. She quickly turned back, now eyeing Devin like he knew something no one else did.

  There was something that told him it wasn’t an accident, but her pointed question had him at a loss. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  The man with the accent pushed around Devin and started toward the end of the hall. He was walking fast, his arms swinging strangely out of sync with the rest of his body. And as he drew to within ten feet of the bend in the hall, he stopped on his heels. It looked like he was trying to dig them into the checkerboard linoleum.

  “RUN!”

  The man’s voice echoed back through the hall. He looked for a moment like he was going to continue forward, but then turned around and began waving his arms. Not back and forth like he was calling for attention, but in a forward throwing motion, both arms at the same time. “GOOOO!”

  The woman who’d dropped the gold-trimmed purse had dropped to her knees, but looked up as she read the alarm in the man’s voice. She was staring at the side of Devin’s head. “What, what did he say?”

  It was two words, separated by only a few seconds. The volume, the enthusiasm, how could she not have caught that?

  Without responding or even turning to look at the woman, and as his heart rate started to slowly climb, Devin backed away from the office and now stood in the middle of the hall. He stepped aside as a pair of nurses bolted from the office and were headed toward the overly agitated man.

  “NO!” The man continued to wave his arms, now turning to look back over his shoulder. “GET AWAY!”

  “Hey.” The woman with the purse finally stood and began tugging at his sleeve. Her words were faster now, her voice turned up a bit. “What is that, what’s going on over …”

  Devin pulled away and had just turned to look at her when her voice trailed off. Her mouth now hung open and her eyes were cut down to thin slits. “What in the hell is that?”

  There was more shouting now and the man with the accent had dropped his arms and was in a dead sprint. He was twenty feet from the nurses when another man, wearing only a pair of blood stained boxers, turned the corner.

  The second man slipped, stumbling into the wall at his left, but then quickly recovered. His face was slack and his eyes unfocused, a slight milky haze clouding both irises. His chest and arms had long serrated wounds, and a thin shard of glass protruded from his right clavicle.

  Devin reached for the woman’s arm. He pulled her toward him and started to back away. He didn’t know why, or what he was planning, or even what this was. “We should probably start moving.”

  Instinct. For the moment, that was all he had.

  The woman with the gold-trimmed purse looked from the scene at the other end of the hall to him and then back. She was breathing fast and her hands were shaking. “This is it,” she said backing into him. “This is it; it’s here.”

  From behind, another much larger man pushed through. He was tall and thick, arms like tree trunks and a neck pulsing with rope-like veins. He wore white scrubs, carried a handful of keys, and was shouting. “Everybody back, get into the office.”

  Devin took a step toward the office and quickly glanced inside. The facility administrator held his phone tight to his ear and was speaking quickly as he stared at a large flat panel monitor. “Yes, the front doors. Like right now. Yes. Yes. I don’t know, but I have to go.”

  Now less than thirty feet away, the man with the accent was screaming something incoherent, and possibly in another language, when the bloodied man finally caught him. They hit the checkerboard linoleum, collided with the wall, and skidded to a stop before Devin was able to make sense of what was happening.

  The large man came in quickly. He dropped to one knee and was reaching for the man with the accent, when the bloodied man pulled away and bit him first on the left side of his face, and then on his neck.

  The facility administrator now stood on Devin’s left, his arms at his side and his mouth hanging open. He was speaking, although his words were drowned out by the woman with the gold-trimmed purse.

  “NO, NO, NO. PLEASE NO!”

  The large man clutched his neck, shaking as he stared back at the man who’d bitten him. He looked like he was trying to get to his feet when his arms finally fell to his side, his body went limp,
and he dropped to the floor.

  The bloodied man pushed away from the much larger man, moved left, and quickly climbed atop the man with the accent.

  There was a brief moment where Devin was able to push aside the horrific scene playing out thirty feet away and refocus. He stepped back, looked down toward the opposite end of the hall, and then put his arm around the woman. Leaning in close, he whispered into her ear. “Let’s go.”

  She seemed startled, but still not able to fully turn toward him. “What … what?”

  Devin eyed the administrator, and then his office. It took everything he had to remain in the moment, to not turn and run. To the woman he said, “Come on, let’s go.”

  She nodded, and without speaking, walked into the office and sat at the desk.

  With his mind racing and his pulse now beating in his temple, Devin closed the door and stepped out from behind the administrator. The tall thin man in the blue dress shirt and tan khakis was frozen in place. He tried to speak, but no words came as the bloodied man pressed his face into the chest of the man with the accent, and began tearing away thick sheets of flesh.

  The man with the accent struggled to get free. He kick and screamed, the volume of his voice threating to bring down the walls. He used his left leg to push away, pounding his fists into the bloodied man’s head, each strike coming with less accuracy and aggression. He fought to free himself, but it was over in less than twenty seconds. Anything resembling life in the older dark-skinned man was gone, his eyes losing focus and his head dropping to the right.

  As the bloodied man pushed back onto his knees and shoved a handful of torn skin into his mouth, there were a series of muted screams that came from a doorway across the hall. He seemed to sniff at the air, then paused a few seconds. He quickly got back to his feet and darted for the open door.

  More screams followed, at least two women, one drifting away quickly and the other growing in intensity as Devin fought the urge to finally turn and run.

  He felt secure in that the woman with the gold-trimmed purse would be safe behind the door, but couldn’t convince himself that leaving her alone was the right call. “Hey …”

  The man from the office, the person he’d been waiting to see, the tall forty-something in the blue dress shirt, whipped around, nearly leaping out of his brown leather loafers. “Uh … I have to … I have to make a call.”

  Devin stepped between the man and the door. He stared down the hall, the screaming now having stopped. “Wait, I think we need to …”

  Two shots rang out from somewhere near the front of the facility. They came in rapid succession and then died off just as fast. Devin spun on his heels and reached for the door. The woman was already on her feet and pushing through the threshold.

  He looked from the office to the man in the blue shirt. “The rear exit, down this hall?”

  The man only nodded his head as he attempted to push his way around Devin.

  Taking the woman’s hand, he forced a smile. “Can you run?”

  She didn’t respond, but clamped down on his hand.

  Devin pulled her into his right side and guided her out into the hall. “Let’s go.”

  Another burst of gunfire came from behind, maybe four or five shots, now much closer. Then there were voices, two men, deep and commanding.

  “GET DOWN!”

  “STOP MOVING!”

  “ALL OF YOU!”

  They sounded as though they were only feet away, although as Devin turned to look, two men turned the corner sixty feet back. Dressed in black fatigues and shouldering some sort of semi-automatic rifle, they moved quickly from one doorway to the next.

  They spotted the trail of red running from the middle of the hall and into the room fifteen feet away. The smaller of the two moved quickly to the left side of the door and the other followed to the right. They dipped their weapons though the doorway as the first man took a quick glance inside.

  “GET ON YOUR KNEES … NOW!”

  The second man leaned in and said something under his breath to the first. He pulled the matte black weapon into his shoulder and stepped quickly into the room. There were a series of quick shots and then absolute silence.

  Devin held tight to the woman’s hand, now slowly walking backward. She didn’t need to be asked, and simply mimicked his hesitant pace.

  The administrator stood with his back to the wall, looking more confused now than when he stepped out of his office only minutes before. He took a half-step forward, but then turned and peered back at Devin and the woman. “I, uh … I think … “

  Before he could find the words or even come close to a coherent thought, there came a second group of men dressed in black fatigues. They moved with a rehearsed motion, quickly clearing one room at a time. And when they had moved beyond the doorway the bloodied man had entered, they jogged quickly to the man in the blue shirt, weapons extended. “Anyone else back here?”

  The administrator shook his head, but then looked to the far end of the hall. “Uh, maybe one more in that last room on the right.”

  The man out in front, big forearms and a heavy mustache, turned to Devin and the woman, his right index finger tight against the trigger guard. “You two, either of you hurt?”

  Devin took a half step forward. “No, but what—”

  The man’s name badge read R. Thomas. “Either of you come anywhere near that man?”

  Devin shook his head.

  There were a few seconds where it appeared that Officer Thomas was trying to form his next question. But just before he opened his mouth to speak, it hit the woman all at once. The entire scene had played out—beginning to end—in less than two minutes. It happened so fast, and without warning. And now, with time to let the weight of it all start to sink in, she began to lose herself. Her knees shook as they threatened to buckle, and then she began to cry.

  Devin stepped to her side. It felt awkward, but seemed like the right thing to do. “I’m sorry.”

  Officer Thomas bit at his lip, looking like he was thinking through his next move. He turned to the men at his back, asked that they check the remaining rooms, and spoke quickly into the radio on his left shoulder. He waited for the voice to respond and then turned back to Devin. “She with you?”

  “Uh, no.”

  Officer Thomas turned quickly back to the man in the blue shirt. “I need you to get every single person into the cafeteria ASAP. I don’t care if they work here, live here, or are just visiting. No one leaves until we clear them.”

  The man in the blue dress shirt nodded, but then looked toward the end of the hall. “What about the others, their families?”

  “The injured will be triaged and transported. You’ll receive a detailed report once we sort things out. And stay close, I’ll need access to the rest of the facility.”

  “Yes, okay.”

  Devin followed the more than two hundred residents, visitors, and staff into the main cafeteria. He sat with two other elderly gentlemen and the woman with the gold-trimmed purse. Positioning himself twenty feet from the door leading to the hall, he figured he’d be one of the first to be questioned and released.

  “Thank you.” The woman leaned forward in her chair and rested her hand on Devin’s leg.

  “Thank you for what? I didn’t really do anything?”

  She offered a weak smile. “You stayed with me.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “You wanted to run, I could tell. You wanted to run, but you didn’t. I know it probably wouldn’t have mattered if that man came back out into the hall, but you stayed with me when you didn’t have to … so thank you.”

  He nodded. “I’m Devin, it’s good to meet you.”

  She smiled a bit wider, her teeth just cresting her rose red lips. “My name is Charlotte, and it’s good to meet you Devin.”

  Devin sat back in his chair, his stomach growling. “I have a feeling I’m not going to make my flight.”

  “Your flight?”

  “I’m s
upposed to fly out at nine.”

  Charlotte looked down at her wrist. “Where are you headed?”

  “Back to LA.”

  “Is this going on out there too?”

  He thought he knew what she was asking, but hadn’t paid much attention to anything other than what was going on right in front of him for the last several days. “This … what do you mean?”

  She sat forward once again, lowering her voice. She looked to the men seated on the other side of the table, and then back at Devin. “This … all of this. That man, those others on the news in Las Vegas, and I think there was something happening in Texas.”

  Devin had seen a few random reports about a mysterious illness, but again hadn’t given it any thought. “I don’t know, you think this had something to do with what’s on the news?”

  Three men in the same black fatigues stepped through the door and into the room. Officer Thomas was out in front. “Okay, we’re going to work backwards. First I want anyone who was visiting here today to get in a single file line next to the door. We’ll be getting your statements and releasing you as quickly as possible. We appreciate your time and especially your continued patience.”

  Devin nearly leapt from his chair. He looked quickly toward the door and then down at Charlotte, the urgency apparent on his face. “I’m gonna try to …” He thumbed back toward the line of visitors already beginning to form.

  She sat back, resting her arms over her purse and nodded. “You take care of yourself young man. I have a really bad feeling about all of this.”

  Devin offered one last smile, turned away, and started toward the men in the black fatigues.

  2

  The commercial flight was mostly empty as Devin finished the last of what remained in his clear plastic cup and stretched his legs. Taking the unoccupied window seat, he watched as the world silently passed below him. Thirty-thousand feet was an odd place to lose yourself, although the past four days had been almost too much for him to handle.

  Saying goodbye to the last person he could call family hadn’t come as a complete surprise; however, it was certainly one of the more difficult things he’d gone through in his twenty-eight years. The fifth anniversary of his parents’ accident was less than two weeks old, and now his last living grandmother was gone as well. It wasn’t grief he was feeling—he was sure that would come—at the moment, it felt more like defeat.