Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Book 4): Walking In The Shadow Of Death (3 page)

He slapped Hahn on the shoulder and
pointed towards the tail of the plane. “Leave Parker here in over watch. I want
to move up ahead and get an angle on the far side,” Brad whispered.

Hahn nodded back and the three of
them moved out quietly in a wedge formation with Chelsea falling in just behind
them. As they stealthily moved towards the tail, Brad spotted Gunner kneeling
near a blind corner. Just to the other side of him would be the back ramp to
the AN-12. Brad moved his people farther out from the tail. He dropped to the
prone and crawled through the cold snow.

Brad stopped when he could see the right
side of the aircraft and the hillside where the approaching strangers should
come from. He watched cautiously, slowly pushing and packing snow in front of
him to try and conceal his position. Chelsea was in a similar spot off his
right heel; Hahn was behind him and to the left. He took a quick peek at both
of them and saw they had also built small piles of snow to their fronts in an
attempt to conceal themselves. On the snow-covered ground and wrapped in the
grey blankets, they should be nearly invisible from a distance.

Brad moved his M4 up and slid the
tip of the barrel over the small mound of snow to his front. He watched the
strangers approach just off the nose of the aircraft and on the high ground.
Looking though his optics, he could identify them as three males. One looked to
be barely in his teens. Another was a large stocky man; the other was possibly
a young adult. Brad watched them closely. He had a better view of them now than
he had back up in the tree line. From their dress and arms, they appeared to be
farmers, maybe hunters.

The two younger males were carrying
long guns, not military weapons. The older male was covered in heavy furs and
wasn’t visibly armed. Brad watched the older man stop and speak to the other
two. He pointed to an embankment that overlooked the approach to the downed
aircraft.  The two younger men turned and walked towards the higher
ground. The man dressed in furs began moving down the slope and towards the
aircraft.

He watched the demeanor of the man
change as he got closer. Instead of the casual gait, he began to get lower in
his stride. He hunched his shoulders, his arms were spread, and his head slowly
pivoted from side to side. This man obviously had some military training, or at
the least was experienced in the woods. The man stopped and looked intently at
the aircraft. Brad watched as he removed a small handgun from his pocket. The
man looked back to the two younger males then continued moving towards the
tail.

Brad felt his heart rate begin to
quicken with the pre-ambush surge of adrenaline. His sights were locked on the
man; he could easily pull the trigger and end this. He closely watched the
man’s movements, trying to decide if he posed a threat.

“Maybe they’re just locals,” he
heard Chelsea whisper.

“Maybe, but the way he hunkered
down and pulled his piece don’t make him look like a search and rescue,” Hahn
whispered back.

Brad began to speak, to give
instructions to his team, but he was cut off by the sound of a bird’s call.
Brad took his focus off the old man and put his sights to the two on the
embankment. He saw that the Vilegas brothers had closed on the two and quickly
disarmed them, but not before one of them had given a warning to the older man.
Brad quickly moved his rifle down and saw the man step back. Out of nowhere
Sean popped up beside him. Startled, the man turned and began to raise the
pistol just as Brooks grabbed him under the left arm and gripped the pistol in
his hand, disarming him.

Relieved, Brad let out an audible
sigh before taking his eye off of his optics. Slowly he climbed to his feet.

“Let’s go,” he said to the others
barely above a whisper.

They moved towards the tail and
joined up with Gunner before rounding the corner. They came up just short of
where Sean and Brooks had confronted the stranger.  The man had his hands
in the air and was speaking excitedly to Sean. Sean motioned for the man to
lower his hands as he spoke. “You can lower your arms, friend, we don’t want
any trouble.”

The man smiled and looked up at
Brad and the others moving in from around the tail of the aircraft. “Excuse my
poor manners. We haven’t seen many folks round here. Much less a downed plane.”

Sean raised his hand to the
Villegas, signaling for them to bring down the others. “Yes sir, I understand
that. This was a bit of an unscheduled stop.”

“Americans, are ya? I served with
Americans, been nearly a decade, but I’m still familiar with yer uniforms.”

“You a soldier?” Brad asked, moving
closer.

“Not any more, my wars are over,”
the man answered.

Brooks laughed. “Hate to be the
bringer of bad news, old man, but I think we’ve all been recalled to active
duty.”

The old man shook his head. “Aye,
you may be correct in thinking that.”

“So it’s here then?” Chelsea asked.

“Oh yes, young lady, it’s here,”
the man said, not needing clarification of the question.

They paused their conversation as
the Vilegases walked into the group herding the two young men in front of them.
They could see they were just boys with a strong resemblance to the old man.
Daniel was carrying their weapons; they were light but not crude: a
well-maintained double barrel shotgun and a semi auto rifle. Daniel carefully
leaned them against the aircraft.

The old man motioned towards the
young men. “These be my boys, William and Michael, and ya can call me Jeremiah.
My wife and oldest boy are tending to the farm.”

“Good to meet you all. Jeremiah, we
have a wounded pilot, is there a hospital open? Or an aid station?” Sean asked.

“No, nothing like that. We can
bring her back to the farm, my wife has some training, but the city isn’t
safe.”

“The city?” Sean asked.

The older boy William nodded and
spoke. “It’s no good sir, my brother Thomas was in the city when it started. He
told of the killing. He just barely made it home.”

“How far is this farm? And is it
secure?” Brooks asked.

“It’s a few kilometers, and so far
it’s been safe. We are up high and away from the main roads. We have only had a
couple incidents. Most of them have stayed clear of us. We have been careful to
avoid them and not lead them up the valley.”

“It won’t be easy moving her,
Chief, she is hurt bad,” Brooks said.

A suppressed gunshot broke the
conversation. It came from behind the aircraft where Corporal Parker had been
standing watch. “They’re in the trees!” Parker yelled.

More shots continued to pour out
from a suppressed rifle. Hahn followed by the Villegas took off towards
Parker’s position. “We aren’t going to have a choice. Brooks, get her ready to
move,” Sean said.

“On it, Chief,” Brooks answered as
he turned to run towards the aircraft.

Sean looked to the old man. “I’m
sorry to inconvenience you like this, but could you and your boys assist in
getting my wounded pilot on the ground? We will be moving out immediately … and
collect your arms,” he said, pointing at the long guns leaning against the
aircraft where Daniel had left them. “Gunner, you go with them, and take
Swanson,” Sean ordered.

“Hell with that Chief, I’m still in
this fight,” Gunner contested.

“Not with your shooting arm in that
sling, and besides I’ll need you and Swanson to provide security while they
carry Kelli,” Sean spit back.

Gunner nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll
keep them safe. Swanson, let’s move.”

Chelsea hesitated, looking at Brad,
“I can fight, I’ll stay here.”

Sean smiled, looking at her.
“Chelsea, I know you can fight, but that wasn’t a request it was an order. Now
move out and help with the wounded.” Chelsea gave Sean a discouraged look, then
watched as Brad turned his back and walked away. “Okay Chief, keep an eye on
him for me,” Chelsea said dejectedly as she left to join the others near the
aircraft’s door.

“You got it,” Sean said.

Quickly he turned and jogged to
catch up with Brad. “That girl is sweet on you. If you haven’t seen it yet,
you’re a damn fool,” he said as he joined Brad’s side.

Brad stopped walking and turned to
face Sean. “Not the time or the place, Chief.”

Sean laughed. “Okay buddy, keep
telling yourself that,” he said before heading out towards Parker’s position in
the rocks. Brad quickly followed him with his rifle at the ready. When they
turned the corner, they could see the bodies of three individuals high up the
far slope. They were all face down in the snow. One of them still had its arms
flailing about and moaning. Parker took another aimed shot and they saw a red
splash paint the snow above its skull.

The men were on line searching in
all directions. “Was it just the three of them?” Sean asked to no one in
particular.

“Yes Chief, they came staggering
out of the woods, walking all crazy-like. Not like the others; they were moving
all slow and awkward. Maybe the colds got ‘em fucked up?” Parker answered.

Joseph raised his rifle. “Shit,
multiple contacts in the trees.”

Brad squinted and looked towards
the tree line above the far slope. They were breaking out of the trees, but
just like Parker had said, they were moving slower. It wasn’t a stagger; they
looked more like speed walkers with bad posture. “What the hell is wrong with
them?” Brad gasped.

“I told you, I think it’s the cold.
Maybe they’re frozen,” Parker answered.

“Anyhow, guess it makes them easier
to kill. Let them get into range, take good shots, conserve your ammo,” Sean
ordered as he raised his weapon.

Brad watched them continue to move
out of the trees. He counted seventeen of them before they stopped coming out
of the darkness of the forest. The mass of primals moved at them in a mottled
cluster. There was no organization to their movements, they were just headed
towards the plane. Brad looked through his rifle at them. They looked
malnourished, the same as the primals in the desert. Their skin was stretched
tightly over their bones. Some of them were barely dressed, ashen and frost
bitten skin showing through torn clothing. Others had frozen clumps of blood
and gore stuck to their open wounds.

He watched the primals move closer
and closer; they were one hundred and fifty meters out now. He took a knee and
steadied his rifle. Hahn was the first to fire, hitting a tall man high in the
chest. The shot failed to kill the man, spinning him backwards and knocking him
to the ground. Brad watched as the thing struggled in the snow, fighting back
to his feet before Hahn placed a second shot to the top of its head. The other
walking primals didn’t seem to be bothered by their fallen comrade; they
continued the march forward.

Brad placed his sight on a
well-dressed male. He put the reticle just below the man’s chin, eased back on
the trigger with the tip of his finger, and felt the rifle respond as he
watched the man’s head kick back in a confirmed hit. He shifted to the left and
continued the motion on the next target. Aiming below the chin, pressure on the
trigger, another hit. Soon the mass of them were on the ground. The team
quickly replaced magazines and topped off empty ones before calling out to each
other that they were up.

Sean brought the team online and
they slowly approached the cluster of dead primals in the snow. As they got
closer they noticed one thing right off. The first three that Parker had taken
down were dressed in heavy coats, similarly to the strangers they had
encountered. This new group was well dressed and in city clothing: suits and
skirts, leather jackets, street clothes. Sean walked close to one of them,
kicking it to make sure it was dead before searching him for identification. He
found a wallet in the man’s jacket pocket.

“This fella is dressed nice, bus
tickets in his wallet,” Sean said.

Hahn had done the same on one
farther back. “This one too. Business card says he was a lawyer.”

“They are from the city,” a voice
called from behind them. It was William. He had wandered down to the group.
“The plane crash must have drawn them in, we usually don’t see city ones this
far out.”

“Well that is unfortunate,” Sean
said.

“Mister Brooks wanted me to tell
you that we are ready to move,” William said.

“Okay, tell him to get going, we
will be right behind you.”

William stood there, giving Sean a
concerned stare.

“Is there something else, son?”
Sean asked.

“You can’t follow us. You will lead
them to us,” William explained. “They will follow you right back to the farm.”

“How exactly will you get away
without being followed?” Sean asked.

“We know a way, but if they are
coming in from the city like this … They can’t find the farm,” the boy said with
a look of fear in his eyes.

“Okay, quick then, draw me a map to
your home. I will lead them away. If I can distance myself from them I’ll make
my way to the farm,” Sean said, handing the boy a small brown notebook and
pencil.

“I cannot give you directions to
the farm, Dad wouldn’t allow it.  But here … This is a path to a hunter’s
cabin, my uncle’s place. It’s not well known and not too far from here. If you
can lose them and make it to the cabin, we will come for you in two to three
days.”

 The boy quickly began to
sketch the map and point out different landmarks as he explained the route to
Sean. Just as he finished the drawing, a new batch of primals emerged from the
tree line. This group was thicker and twice the number of the previous group.
The boy handed the paper back as the first shots opened up on the mob. Sean
grabbed the boy’s arm and leaned in close to him. “William, please hurry and
get my people to safety. Ask the men to ready my bag and leave it outside of
the aircraft. I have a feeling I’ll be moving fast when I stop to pick it up.”