Escape The 1st Omnibus: WTF Books 1-3 (29 page)

“I’m not willing to just sit here until we starve … From my last count, Brooks, Brad, and I are the only ones with any gear or food. We’re cut off from the supplies on the deck, and our current position is occupied. Unless anyone has any better ideas, everybody be prepared to assault through this building in two hours, and I mean
everybody
!” Sean gritted, looking in the direction of the two officers.

“Excuse me Chief, but we aren’t trained for this,” Mr. Douglas said, stepping forward.

“Doesn’t matter anymore; we’re all in this together now. We’re all going to pull our weight until we get out of here. Swanson, tell me more about the platform, how many were on board?” Sean asked.

Captain Bradley got to his feet and took a step towards Sean, holding his hand up towards Swanson. “Hold up Chief, I know you are not happy, but rushing to decisions and pushing us forward isn’t going to solve anything right now.”

Completely ignoring the Captain’s words, Sean said, “Sir, with all due respect, the next time I knock on a door you better move your ass and answer it! You almost got Brad and I killed out there while you took your sweet ass time unlocking that door. Consider this fair warning. I suggest you ready your weapons;
we
will be taking this building back in two hours. Now Swanson, what do we know about the platform?”

Captain Bradley moved back to his seat and sat heavily without saying a word. Swanson looked around the room, but realizing there would be no support if she continued the argument, she began to explain what she knew to Sean.

“Well, this is the housing and business block; it used to house the trades guys, pipe fitters, welders, rough necks, stuff like that. We moved all of the military in here. There were only about fifty of us in total. There are three floors; first two are offices, and the top floor is housing cells. Twelve rooms and an open lounge. The helipad is on the roof.”

“Food? Water?”

“Yeah, there’s a stocked galley upstairs, but the water is off until we get the lights back on.”

“And next door?” Sean questioned.

“The next building over is the controls unit. It houses the radio tower and most of the switches for the platform’s equipment. The far corner facility is the power station; it has generators and such. That’s where I worked. We kept the power plant running and it must be abandoned now. I’m sure that’s why the lights are out,” Swanson finished.

“Can you get the power back on?”

“Yeah sure, easy, I’m sure the tanks just ran dry. I’ll just need some help switching over the barrels … this place has plenty of fuel on hand,” Swanson said.

“What’s below us?” Sean asked.

“That’s the industrial deck. We didn’t go down there much, since PAK-PETROL was in charge of that space. They’ve been housing all of their people there. The very bottom deck was where they were loading and offloading crews from the ships.”

“Okay, clear as mud then. Alright everyone, get your gear together. Be ready to move out in two hours,” Sean said as he started to break down his MP5 for another round of cleaning.

Brad leaned back in his chair. He was extremely frustrated and sore from his battle on the deck with the primal. He had no interest in Sean’s plan to clear the building, yet he understood completely the importance of the mission. If they were going to survive, they would have to regain their ground. He wouldn’t argue the decision. Brad knew it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t the easiest.

He dug through his bag, pulled out a fresh set of MultiCams and got dressed. He grabbed his rifle and inspected it. He hadn’t fired it in a few days, but still he removed the bolt and oiled all of its components. He checked and double-checked his magazines. He still had close to a combat load’s worth of ammo, and there were still hundreds of rounds in his rucksack. Grabbing his vest, he made sure everything was secure and then placed his last fresh set of batteries into his night vision goggles.

Once Brad was confident he would be ready for the coming mission, he leaned his head back deep into the chair and pulled his patrol cap over his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, Brad saw Sean trying to look through the glass of the doors leading into the hallway. Brooks was standing behind him, readying his weapons and attaching gear to his chest harness. Swanson was leaning over her boots, tucking in the laces; her M4 was sitting beside her. Both officers were also up digging through their small flight bags.

Even though Brad was far from his normal routine, he still followed a mental checklist when he prepped for a mission. He went through his checklist, physically touching each item. He tightened all of his loose straps and checked to make sure his spare magazines were loaded and snapped in place. His fighting knife was hanging just below his left shoulder, with the handle down. A tourniquet was on his right shoulder, a first aid pouch on his belt. He wore his M9 on his hip, and the holster held two spare magazines.

Brad finished his prep work, drank down an entire bottle of water (never knowing when the next chance to hydrate would come), then relieved himself into the empty bottle and tossed it into a trash can. He was ready to go, so he made his way to Sean and Brooks and leaned against the wall. Sean pulled four small cardboard boxes of 5.56 NATO rounds from his backpack and tossed them to Swanson.

“Load these up, Corporal; you may need them,” Sean said.

He then turned and faced the group. “We’re going to move out in two groups. Brooks, Brad, and I will push forward on the assault team. I want you three to wait until we make the first landing, then move in behind us as support. I want separation in the teams. Only one team at a time on a floor or in a ladder well. We will assault forward; you three will lag back and be prepared to reinforce us if we need to fall back in a hurry or get blocked. Corporal, you are in charge of the support team. Any questions?”

“So we’re supposed to just stand around in the hallway and wait for you to do something?” Mr. Douglas asked.

“Sir, I would recommend you get into defensive positions at every stop. Odds are, if we fall back, we’ll be moving in a hurry. Just please try very hard not to shoot us,” Sean answered.

Captain Bradley moved towards the door and unholstered his M9. “Okay Chief, let’s get this over with.”

Sean looked at Brooks and signaled for him to move out. Brooks slowly opened the door, clearing everything in his vision as it slowly revealed the interior of the hallway. Brad moved forward and took a position inside the hallway and on the left wall. Brooks moved a step ahead and took the right wall, with Sean holding the center of the hallway.

With the door now fully open and the light of the lounge bleeding into the hall, they knelt down and listened for any movement. The hallway was as they had left it, covered with trash and bodies and stinking of death. The assault team moved forward and stacked up on the first office door. Swanson’s support team stepped to the lounge’s doorframe and took a knee to watch Sean’s team work.

Even though the first floor offices had been cleared the day before, they were cautious and had decided beforehand that they would do a one hundred percent sweep of everything. The assault group would clear the room and push forward, while the support team would occupy their previous position to make sure nothing got past them. Slowly they cleared the first floor and stacked on the ladder well at the end of the hall.

Brooks cracked a chemical light and dropped it at the base of the stairs. None of the support team wore night vision, and he didn’t want them to get spooked and pop off a round in the dark. Brooks waited for Sean and Brad to stack behind him. A single tap on his shoulder indicated they were ready, so he crept up the dark stairs. His night vision goggles painted the space a creepy digital green. He paused often to listen for movement, but all he could hear was the creaking of the metal structure and the storm blowing outside.

He reached the top and looked down the long, dark corridor. It looked the same as they had left it; the dismembered Marine still lay in the center of the hallway. The stack of primal bodies was still piled in front of the open office door. He slowly led them forward, trying to be quiet, although their boots slipped and squeaked on the sticky, blood-covered floor; occasionally they kicked spent brass and heard the clinking of metal on metal.

Again they cleared the rooms. The trio made it past the point where they had found Swanson. They moved to the end of the hall and stacked on the door leading up to the unknown third floor. They held up and waited, hearing the rustling of the support team moving up the stairs and taking positions at the far end of the hallway. Brad turned to look at them, barely making out their facial expressions in the hue of the night vision goggles.

He could see the silhouettes of Swanson and Mr. Douglas as the two of them peeked out and down the hallway toward him. The captain must have held back to cover their six. He watched Swanson take a step out of the ladder well and take a knee with her M4 held at the ready, while Mr. Douglas stood at a crouch just over her shoulder.

Brad felt the pat coming from Sean to his front and knew it was time to move again. He tapped Sean back to indicate he was ready, and they moved forward to the doors leading to the third floor. Brad watched Brooks reach for the handle of the door. Unlike the others, this one was in a locked position but it had been bashed in, twisted at its hinges, allowing one of the sections to be forced inward off of its frame. There was an imploded gap where the creatures had breached the doorway, and the metal edges were covered with ripped pieces of clothing and skin.

Brooks wrapped his gloved fingers over the edge of the door and applied pressure to open it. The door started to screech as the twisted steel pieces pulled against each other. He immediately stopped and stepped back. He moved back to Sean and whispered, “The door is completely jammed up. I can open it, but it’s going to be loud.”

“Okay. We’ll rip it open, but use the rope and give us some standoff distance,” Sean whispered back.

Brooks reached into his butt pack and pulled out a length of heavy corded rope. He lashed it around the handle of the door, then they backtracked down the hall, letting the length of the rope out behind them as they went. They stopped just in front of the support team. Sean and Brad took a knee on opposite sides of the hall and aimed the IR lasers of their weapons at the battered doors. Sean nodded to Brooks to pull the rope.

Brooks yanked the rope and the door let out a wailing screech of twisted sheet metal, but the door didn’t give. He pulled again, making a lot of noise but no better results. Without instruction, Bradley moved forward from the ladder well and grabbed a section of the rope from Brooks. Together they strained and pulled, the door screeching all the more. Brad watched as the door began to give under the weight of the rope, but the handle section buckled and the rope sprang free.

Brooks shook his head and pulled the rope back towards him, coiling it as he reeled it in. “Hold position and cover me, I’ll tie it back on,” Brooks whispered. Sean nodded his acknowledgement and Brooks started to slowly make his way back to the door. Only two steps into the walk they heard a crash coming from the third deck’s ladder well. Brooks froze in place, dropping the rope and readying his weapon. Then they heard the first of many moans …

“Ahhh shit, there goes the neighborhood,” Brooks said as he stepped back and returned to the assault team’s formation.

“Captain, get back to your team,” Sean said.

Just as Bradley turned to move, the first primal crashed into the set of battered doors. Brad raised his rifle and watched the doors heave. Sean fired carefully placed rounds that pierced the metal doors, but the commotion on the far side continued.

“Concentrate your fire on the doors! Let’s kill these fucks while they’re trapped on the landing,” Sean said.

Brooks and Brad acknowledged the order by firing shots in groups of two into the doors at shoulder height. They saw more rounds pierce the door, but the pounding continued and the intensity of the moaning grew. Soon the hall was filled with smoke and the visibility had dropped. They continued to fire straight down the hallway into the moans, filling the doors and landing with a wall of lead.

Brad felt the bolt in his rifle lock to the rear and called out, “Reloading!”

He quickly dropped his magazine and fished a fresh one from his vest. Brad pushed the bolt release and slammed the forward assist with the palm of his hand. Before he could tell the others he was back online, they heard the crunch of the doors giving way and the frenzied charge of the primals.

They broke from the smoke and quickly closed the distance, rushing at them in a thick pack, filling the hallway and moving fast. The assault team fired at them, knocking down the first rank and slowing the charge as the falling primal bodies impeded the mass. Without being asked, Swanson moved her support team forward. They took up a standing position behind Brad. He could hear the officers’ 9mm pistols join the fight and he could feel the brass from Swanson’s rifle bounce off his shoulder as she fired into the mob.

One of the creatures broke through and dove at the men, landing on top of Brooks. Brooks pushed up his forearm and pressed the creature’s face against the wall as he was forced over and onto his side. Captain Bradley stepped forward and gripped the primal by the back of its collar to pull it away from Brooks. With Brook’s forearm still pressing it tightly against the wall, Bradley shoved his pistol against the primal’s temple and fired.

Brooks rolled from under the creature and forced himself back into a firing position, returning his weapon to action. Brad focused his attention forward as another wave moved at them en masse. He fired nearly point-blank into the mob, smoke and the flash of the weapons washing out his night vision.

Sean yelled “Weapon dry!” and seamlessly pulled his sidearm, pumping heavy .45 caliber rounds into the charging primals. The front rank’s heads exploded as more pushed them forward and into the team. Then the fight fell apart. Swanson screamed that she was out of ammo and she started backpedaling into the stairway. A primal leaped from the mob’s ranks, hitting Brad square. Another jumped against the wall, skirted the fire and bounced into Sean’s blind spot.