Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Book 4): Walking In The Shadow Of Death (18 page)

“I guess we don’t look quite the
part anymore, but we are soldiers, just trying to make it home,” Brad said,
finally finding his voice.

The boy-guard smiled. “I thought so,
I like your back pack.” He laughed.

“Yeah it’s heavy and holds a lot—”
Brad said as he was cut off by the boy driving the truck.

The boy leaned from the cab again.
“We can bring you back, we have a safe place, but you will have to give up your
guns,” the boy said.

“I’m sorry friends, but for our
safety and yours it’s important we keep our weapons,” Sean said casually.

The second man in the cab obviously
didn’t like this answer and he again stole the attention of the driver. The
boy-guard in the back rolled his eyes and leaned against the cab. “They carry
on like this all the time,” he said.

The driver leaned back through the
window. “You can go with us, but we have to get going now, it’s nearly dark and
the bad ones come out at night.”

Brad looked to Sean. “What about
the farm?” he asked in a low voice.

“We can figure it out later, I
think we need to go with them for Hahn’s sake,” Sean said as he moved back
towards Hahn.

Brad helped Sean lift Hahn and with
the help of the boy-guard they lowered him into the bed of the truck before
climbing in themselves. As soon as they were on board the truck’s gears grinded
back into drive and the truck sped off. Brad was sitting towards the front of
the truck with Hahn’s head in his lap. He looked at the rest of the bed. The
truck was filled with cases of canned good. All of the boxes were identical,
and appeared to have come from the same location by the way they were stacked.

The boy-guard in the back looked at
Brad and frowned. “My name is Alex, sorry for not introducing myself.”

Brad looked to the boy-guard. “I
guess proper manners haven’t been of much use lately, I’m Brad, and that old
man there is Sean.”

“Your friend, he is hurt bad?” Alex
asked.

Brad looked down at Hahn. “Yeah,
he’s lost a lot of blood. Do you have a doctor?”

“We will have the means to help
you, but I am not allowed to talk about our home to outsiders,” Alex said.

Sean took his eyes off of the
surroundings and looked to Alex. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Don’t worry, it’s a safe place,”
Alex said. “Far safer than being out here after dark.”

Brad looked at him. “The dark,
that’s when the fast ones come?”

“Oh, they are more than fast, they
are smart, they can open doors, they organize, my German grandfather calls them
the Buhmann. I guess we all kinda do now.“

“Bogeyman?” Sean asked.

“Aye, same thing I guess,” Alex
said.

The truck’s horn honked and Alex
turned and stood back up, looking over the cab. Brad turned to see the road
partially filled with slow-moving primals. The driver slowed and skirted the
right side of the road, then accelerated, moving to the left and around the
crowd of them. As they passed Brad looked back at them. They were the
slow-moving ones with the frostbitten faces and grayed skin.

Alex watched Brad looking at them.
“Creepers … Those ones are nothing to be worried about, they are slow and dumb.
It’s the Buhmann that will get you,” he said seriously.

The sides of the road once again
became wooded as the truck climbed to higher terrain. The vehicle made a turn
off onto a side road that led them to higher ground before it again slowed and
came to a stop. The passenger door opened as Alex jumped from the bed. He and
the other man quickly moved to the side of the road and pulled a long downed
pine out of the way, revealing a broken concrete road. 

The truck pulled through and they
quickly put the brush back into place, concealing the entrance. Now the road
was rougher and the men found themselves being bounced around as they traveled up
the pothole-filled road. The truck wound around and finally ended at a large
chain link fence. The truck stopped short of a chained gate. The driver put the
truck into neutral and applied the parking brake, then exited the cab. He
walked around to the bed and looked at Brad and Sean.

“You need to get out here … stay
over there, and don’t make any noise. I have to make sure it’s okay to let you
in,” the boy said, pointing toward an old stone foundation.

Alex looked to Sean and Brad. “We
are good people, they’ll let you in,” he said, smiling.

Sean stood and went to Brad’s side
to help lift Hahn from the bed of the truck.

“It’s okay, your man can stay, we
wouldn’t turn away an unarmed and injured man,” the driver said.

Brad looked to Sean uneasily. He
didn’t want to lose sight of Hahn, especially when he still didn’t know what
was inside.

Alex again spoke reassuringly. “I
will take care of him, just wait here, we will be back for you.”

Sean looked to Brad and put a hand
on his shoulder. “We have to trust them, right now we don’t have many other
options.”

Brad nodded his head. He removed
his pack and tossed it from the bed of the truck, then jumped out after it. He
turned back towards the truck. “Look after him, Alex,” he said. The boy nodded.

Sean followed Brad from the truck
as the driver got back in and shut the door behind him. “We will be back for
you once we drop off the truck, just remember be quiet, don’t call out. We will
find you.”

The young man from the passenger
seat had unlocked and swung the gate open, and Brad and Sean watched the truck
pull through. He relocked the gate, entered the truck and they drove away.

20.

Brad carried his pack towards the
old stone foundation. He dropped the bag in a corner then sat on the pack leaning
back, looking towards the gate. Sean had followed him into the rubble and
dropped his pack at the opposite end, settling so that his back rested and was
concealed by the rubble wall behind him. It was a habit for the man to always
rest where he had rear cover. It would be embarrassing for the old sniper to be
shot in the back while lounging around. Sean pulled his boonie cap over his
eyes and laid his head back as if he were about to take a nap.

Brad looked at Sean, annoyed. “Do
you have any idea what just happened?”

“My best guess is those boys are
now talking to their leader who is trying to decide if they should let us in or
kill us.”

“Damn Sean! Why so positive? Maybe
we should walk the fence line and see if we can see something?”

Sean let out a sigh. “Probably not
a good idea with them watching us.”

“They’re watching us?” Brad sat up
and started scanning the area beyond the fence.

“Shit, will you calm the fuck down
and relax.”

“How do you know they are watching
us?” Brad asked anxiously.

“Brad, relax bro, what would you do
in their shoes? Would you guard the way in and out of your camp?”

Brad leaned back against his pack,
clearly agitated. He looked around, suddenly feeling uneasy in their situation.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“Good cause, they are, I saw the
flash off of his scope at least twice. Once when we pulled up and just after
you sat down. But no worries, I know where he is, and he doesn’t know that.”

“For real? So they are up there
right now watching us?”

Sean raised his arms and stretched
before crossing his legs and arms as if tucking himself in. “Brad, just get
cozy, and don’t look threatening, I’m sure that’s all they want to see.”

“So you’re just going to sleep?”

“Oh no, I’ve been watching him this
entire time. He just moved down closer to us, don’t look but he is just inside
the fence now. He looks to be a bit older, and heavier,” Sean said in a casual
voice.

Brad tried to resist the urge to
look. He pulled his pack in front of him and rummaged through it, finding a
bottle of water. He drank slowly, trying to occupy his time, then opened a can
of peas and ate quietly, trying to enjoy the bland flavors. The longer he sat
he began to identify more things in the surroundings. The old foundation they
were sitting in was resting in front of an old, mostly snow-covered asphalt
parking lot.

Brad could see remnants of old
light poles mixed in with the brush and woods surrounding them. As he scanned
he could see that the fence looked old, but probably not as old as the
structures. Maybe erected later to keep out vandals or trespassers. It wasn’t a
sturdy fence, standing maybe eight foot with a single strand of wire along the
top. The gate was rusty and matched the fence, but the chain holding it closed
looked new, as did the lock.

Brad pulled himself to his feet and
strolled to a spot just behind them. He relieved himself on a bush as he looked
out, deeper into the forest. His eyes followed the drive down the hill and to
the covered brush where they’d left the road. He couldn’t see the road from his
current position; the overbrush was thick and concealed it very well. He
searched the ground looking for tracks, but instead found something else.
Strung between the trees all over the property were tightly strung wires, just
about waist high. Possibly set as early warning, or to trip up the slow-moving
primals.

Brad moved to his left to try and
get a better look at the wires when he heard the low hum of an engine. He
looked over his shoulder beyond the gate and spotted a vehicle approaching.

“Someone is coming,” he whispered
to Sean as he turned to face the gate. An old Volkswagen van was slowly winding
down the broken concrete road. Instead of pulling through the gate, the van
stopped short of it, then reversed and turned around. The engine was shut off
and the boy who had driven the truck earlier exited the driver’s side. A side
door opened and two older men climbed out from the passenger compartment.

Brad watched the party as they
cleared the van and walked to the gate. Instead of opening the gate, the men
stood in front of the chain link fence. The boy still appeared to be unarmed,
but one of the two men was carrying a shotgun. The boy raised his hand to Brad
and waved for him to come forward. Brad heard Sean get to his feet behind him.
He lifted his pack and stood next to Brad.

“Keep your rifle slung, let me do
the talking,” Sean whispered.

“The man on the right has a
shotgun,” Brad said.

“Yeah, not just any shotgun, looks
like the same one Alex was carrying. These fellas must be short of weapons,”
Sean said as he moved towards the fence. “Follow me.”

“Lead the way,” Brad answered.

Sean moved out ahead, walking
slowly and carrying his pack in his left hand, his rifle slung over his right shoulder
with the barrel down. Brad noticed that Sean’s coat was closed tight and pulled
low, the waist of the jacket concealing the .45 pistol that was always strapped
to his hip.  Brad put on his heavy rucksack and let his M4 hang from the
sling as he followed Sean up the road.

Brad stayed just behind Sean and
staggered to the left. He could see the men at the gate clearly now. The boy
driver stood to the left, apparently unarmed. There was an older red-bearded
man in the center, with another overweight and heavily bearded man standing
next to him. The men were dressed in canvas overalls and high rubber boots;
their coats were of the same canvas type material. To Brad the men appeared
soft, not like hardened criminals or killers, but appearance could be deceiving.
The overweight man held the shotgun nervously, unlike the way Alex had carried
the gun in a relaxed posture. This man held it with the barrel pointed down at
an angle with his finger on the trigger.

When Sean was a good eight paces
from the fence the man in the middle held up his hand. “That be close enough,
friend,” he said.

Sean stopped and casually set his
pack on the ground, then looked up to face the men. “Good afternoon sir, my
name is Chief Petty Officer Sean Rogers. This is my partner, Staff Sergeant
Brad Thompson.”

The man looked to Sean with a
puzzled expression. “American military men, are ya? What are you doing out here
in my woods?”

Sean smiled. “Well, it’s a long
story, but we are awaiting transportation. I can assure you we want nothing
from you or your camp, we have our own supplies.”

“Do ya now?” the red-bearded man
said as he scratched at his beard.

The boy turned to face the
red-bearded man. “Come on David, give them a break. If they wanted something
from us they could have easily ambushed the truck and taken our supplies.”

“Luke, that be enough!” shouted the
fat man with the shotgun.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up all of ya. I’m
just trying to read the situation here,” the bearded man shouted.

Sean smiled and put his hands in
front of him, showing his palms. “Okay, I think we can all calm down just a
bit. All we are looking for is some shelter for the night, and a safe place to
dress our man’s wounds. We will be out of your hair first thing in the
morning.”

The man with the beard nodded his
head. “I feel we had a bad start here, I must apologize. We don’t get many
visitors. My name is David, this is Luke my nephew, my bodyguard here is
Francis. You can call him Frank if you like but it seems to piss him off,” he
said, smiling.

Sean returned the smile and let his
arms relax. “Pleased to meet you, now what would it take to convince you to let
us stay?”

David pulled at his beard as if in
deep thought. “Luke tells me you refuse to give up your weapons?”

“Out there on the road yes, for all
of our protection I choose to be armed. I wouldn’t be opposed to putting my
rifle under lock and key if you have a safe place for it, but I must insist on
keeping my sidearm,” Sean said.

David continued to stroke his beard
before nodding, “Okay that sounds reasonable. You have given me no reason not
to trust you. Luke, open the gate.”

Luke smiled and stepped forward and
unlocked the gate. He swung it open just enough for Brad and Sean to squeeze
though, then locked it behind them. Once inside, Francis opened the hatch on
the back of the van and asked the men to place their bags and rifles in the
cargo compartment. Sean sat his ruck in the back and laid his rifle on the
floor behind it. Brad looked to Sean apprehensively. Sean made eye contact and
nodded so Brad took his ruck from his back and also placed it in the back
before laying his M4 next to Sean’s.

Francis closed the hatch and moved
to the side of the van and opened the passenger door. “Sorry, we need to hurry,
we usually don’t spend this much time down here this late in the day,” he said,
rushing them to enter the van. Brad moved to the side door and followed David
in, Sean got in behind him, and Francis closed the door behind them.

Luke and Francis jumped into the
front, slamming the doors behind them. The van started and began moving up the
road. The passenger compartment held two bench seats sitting parallel to the
cabin walls. Brad had taken a seat across from the door with Sean next to him.
David was sitting near the back and directly on the floor of the van. There was
carpet on the floor and ceilings, and a set of purple curtains divided the
passenger compartment from the front seats. More curtains covered the windows,
preventing Brad from seeing where they were headed.

“Nice custom job, is it yours?” Brad
asked, smiling at David.

David let out an audible chuckle,
“No, no, no, oh boy, no, we found it up on the highway a few weeks ago. We
needed something with cargo space.”

The van drove up a steep slope and
around a bend before stopping. Francis opened his door and stepped out. Brad
heard the rumble of what he assumed was a large overhead door being opened.
They heard a slap on the side of the van as Luke pulled the vehicle into a dark
space and killed the engine. Brad heard the overhead door rumble closed and
after a brief pause the side door on the van again opened. Francis indicated
for the men to exit, and Sean stepped out with Brad right behind him. They were
in a large empty building. The worn brick walls were at least fifteen foot
tall, with a row of old windows lining the top. Some of the windows were
broken; others were still intact and closed.

Brad moved away from the van
curiously looking in all directions. The floor was made of broken concrete. He
saw that the truck they had ridden in earlier was parked on the other side of
the van. In one corner was a pile of old cardboard boxes and a few broken
pallets. There was random furniture and machine parts scattered about the
space. Brad moved towards a wall that held a picture frame. The glass was broken
and the paper inside was stained and unreadable.

“Where are we, David?” Brad asked.

Francis had moved to the back and
opened the hatch on the van. Luke had already picked up Brad’s bag and hoisted
it to his own back with a grunt. Francis grabbed Sean’s rucksack then handed
Sean his rifle before handing Brad his own.

“This is the old machine works
factory. It has been closed for close to thirty years. Come on, this way
please,” David said as he began walking to the far end of the room.

Luke and Francis hurried along
after David. Sean looked at Brad before shrugging his shoulders and following
the men across the old factory floor. At the end of the room was an old steel
door. David rapped on it three times. They stood and waited as the door clunked
then opened inward. David moved inside with the others following him, then the
door closed behind them.

Brad immediately felt the warmth in
the room; a glowing wood stove explained why. They had entered a small office
of sorts. The room’s floor was made of well-worn hardwood, the walls were a
rustic brick and void of any windows, and another steel door was on the
opposite wall. Two large wall safes were on each side of the door with a large
manager’s desk sitting to the right of the door they’d just entered. Brad saw
right away that an old .38 revolver was lying near center on the desktop. He
turned to look behind him and saw that Alex was the one who had closed the
door.

Alex extended his hand and shook
Brad’s hand. “Good to see ya again, Brad.” 

“You too friend. Where’s my man,
Sergeant Hahn?” Brad asked.

“Oh, we mucked him off to the doc,”
Alex answered.

“You have a doctor?” Sean asked,
pleasantly surprised.

David stepped back between the men.
“We have many things. Would you feel comfortable storing your weapons here?” He
pointed at the safe to the left of the door, a tall blue box with a chain
wrapped around it and under the handle, and a large padlock like the one on the
front gate which held the chain in place.

Brad started to speak as Sean cut
him off. “This room is always under guard?” Sean asked.

“Yes, the safe mechanism no longer
works but I alone hold the key to that chain,” David answered.

“Very well then,” Sean said as he
approached the safe. He took the rifle from his shoulder and removed the bolt
from the rifle and dropped it into a pocket on his jacket. He did the same with
his MP5 and Hahn’s M4. Brad followed with what he was doing and dropped the
magazine on his M4, then pushed the pin separating the receivers of his own
rifle and removed the bolt. He quickly unloaded the shotgun, then placed the M4
bolt and twelve gauge shells into his cargo pocket.

David had unlocked the safe. Brad
lifted the M4 and shotgun and handed them to David who sat them near to the
back. Then he did the same with Sean’s weapons. David pushed the safe door shut
then secured the chain around it and latched the lock. He looked up at Sean for
approval as he finished the task. Sean forced a smile and nodded.