Escape The 1st Omnibus: WTF Books 1-3 (33 page)

They stepped over downed bodies while taking note of the weapons on the ground. Slowly they navigated the piles until the stairway came into view. Pallets and crates had been hastily pushed in front of the stairs in a worthy, although unsuccessful, attempt to barricade the entrance. The stairs opened up to a double-wide mouth, reminding Brad of the entrances to a subway tunnel.

Brad’s group found cover to the right of the stairs just as Sean’s team was dropping into position on the left. Sean signaled for Brad to get eyes on the target while Brooks and one of his Marines crept forward toward the barricade. After several tense minutes, Brooks came to his feet and indicated the area was secure.

Brad brought his team forward and they moved to the stairs to gather near Sean. Sean quickly put them to work re-enforcing the barricade. The Marines dropped cases of spare parts and anything else they could lift into the stairwell until it was completely congested. It wouldn’t keep out a raging mob, but they also wouldn’t be able to break through without notice. Before moving on, Sean reached into his dump sack and handed Brad a handful of ties and some rubber wedges he had prepared earlier.

“We are going to move out along the walkway toward the support buildings, same as before. If you come up on any entrances to the buildings, don’t worry about clearing them. Just secure the doors as best you can, zip tie the latches, and pile shit against them or wedge these blocks into the doors. When the deck is secured we’ll begin moving into the structures,” Sean said.

Brad nodded his understanding and they moved out just as before. Brad’s team moved down the long walkway leading to the first of two support buildings. “That’s the power station,” Swanson whispered to Brad.

Brad just nodded in acknowledgement as they continued to move forward, covering Sean’s team’s movements as they covered his. Brad’s team was skirting the seaside railing while Sean’s team was looking into the platform on the other side of the walkway. Wilson raised his hand and pointed at the tip of a ladder that reached over the side of the platform from the lower deck.

Brad approached the ladder and looked down; he could see the empty deck below. He pulled a heavy wrench from his pack. The wrench fit the ladder bolts perfectly just as Tony had told them it would. With some heavy pulling and kicking, the first bolt broke its lock and started turning. They hadn’t ever seen a primal climb a vertical ladder, but he would sleep better knowing that the ladders were gone. After some heavy turning, all of the bolts had been removed and Brad kicked the ladder. It fell free and tumbled to the bottom deck with a loud clatter.

Brad waved Sean’s team forward and they moved to the power station where they found the doors hanging open. Brad peeked inside and could see the open engineering spaces. The one-story building’s large open bay appeared to be empty, so they closed the door and sealed it shut as best they could. Moving forward, they watched as Sean’s team removed the second ladder and secured the doors of the controls building.

They gathered in shade near the open walkway in front of the power station. Brad dropped to the ground and drank from a bottle. He guzzled it halfway down before tossing the other half to Sean, who finished it before sticking the empty in his pocket. It had only taken two hours to clear the deck, but those two hours in the sun had exhausted them.

Sean sent two of the Marines back to inform the others that the decks were clear and to begin the process of removing the dead. The rest of them would get to work on clearing the two remaining buildings. It had already been a long day, but it was far from over.

The rest of the team stacked up on the door to the power station. Brad pulled the wedge from under the door, and at the count of three he yanked it open. They held a small firing line just outside the entrance, waiting for a rush of primals that never came. After some uncomfortable minutes, Brad moved in front of the doorway and cut inside, with Brooks close behind him.

They found themselves in a large, steel-clad building with one long open bay. The room was dark, hot, and stank of burnt oil and weld dust. There was a small workspace in the corner with an instrument panel and a bank of switches. The far wall was lined with huge generators. The opposing wall held a number of machines and tool and die equipment. Brad and Brooks carefully walked the room and searched the shadows.

“Room’s clear,” Brooks called out.

The rest of the team entered the building and began to look around. Sean went to the workspace and searched through piles of papers and engineering drawings, but found nothing useful. “Swanson, what do you need to get the lights back on?” he asked.

“I’ll need some help getting fuel drums swapped out, and then it should be as simple as kicking the gennies back up and bringing the breakers online. Bill and Tony would be a lot of help. They
are
the platform engineers, so this is their expertise.”

“Very well. Take Wilson and Craig back to the lounge and grab Bill and Tony. Let’s get this place powered up,” Sean said.

He walked outside and away from the building, followed by Brooks and Brad. They stood against the railing looking down at the sea. The seas were still choppy but the clouds had all but disappeared. Looking down, they could see that a number of the vessels that had been there earlier were now gone; they’d probably been destroyed from being smashed against the platform’s pylons in the storm, or came loose from their moorings and drifted away.

A large Pakistani-flagged fast attack craft and another smaller military ship still sat tied side by side below them. The smaller of the military ships showed a great deal of hull damage, but the other looked to be in good condition. Farther off, a large fishing boat sat, drifting away from the platform but still connected by a long length of stretched heavy rope. There was no sign of life on any of the ships; they looked dead in the water.

“What are your thoughts on the FAC?” Sean asked Brooks.

“Hmmm, looks like a MRTP-33. Hull looks okay from here, but I’d have to get in the water to really check it out. I don’t know; guess if we followed the coastline we’d be okay. We could always trade up later,” Brooks answered.

“You really thinking on driving that thing eight thousand miles?” Brad asked, looking to Sean.

“Well, sailing actually. Those ships are pretty reliable; would make a good platform for raiding ports as we make our way home. Nothing says we can’t find a better method along the way, though.”

“Okay, but how the hell are we going to get all the way down there?” Brad asked.

“Guess we fight our way down,” Sean replied.

Tony and Bill came up behind the trio talking at the rail. Tony looked down at the ship. “Chief, I didn’t mean to listen in but we don’t have to take the lower decks at all.”

“How’s that, Tony? You care to explain?”

“Well shit, Chief, if you plan on taking that there boat, you would have to resupply it with the crane anyhow; I mean to lower down fuel and such. The crane and operator’s station are up here. I could drop you and your men right on top of that thing without ever going downstairs.”

“Son of a bitch, now that’s a good idea, Tony!”

“Yeah, you’d still have to get down there and secure it though—make sure none of them things are on board and keep them from jumping on it from the docks. I figure you could sneak on, untie it, and then attach it to one of the pylons farther out. That should keep them off ya.”

“That’s good thinking, Tony. How are we coming with the power?”

“Should be on shortly, Chief. The kids are bringing over more fuel right now, so guess I should get back over there.”

“Good work. And thanks, Tony. Let me know if you have any problems.”

Bill and Tony turned to walk away just as the Marines rounded the corner with a cart full of fuel drums headed to the power station.

“Let’s keep that in mind for a while. I figure it’s time to get back to work. We need to clear the control building before sunset … I don’t expect much trouble, the doors were swung open and the windows were broken out when I sealed it up earlier,” Sean said.

They gathered up and walked past the power station. Brad peeked in the door and saw a flurry of activity. The Marines were working hard, refueling the power plants. “I think we can handle this on our own, guys,” Sean said. Brooks and Brad nodded in agreement. They had been through far worse without the help of anyone, Brad thought to himself.

The men finished the walk to the one-story steel building. There was a large tower, not unlike an air traffic control tower, only on a much smaller scale. The tower extended a good seventy-five feet into the air and appeared to be topped by an observation bubble. A radio antenna extended another hundred feet above that.

Sean and his men stood near the door. As they had discovered earlier, there were several large windows in the face of this building at shoulder height. The windows were all smashed and Brad could easily see inside. The sun was in the perfect location, and light was filling most of the structure. Sean readied his MP5 as Brooks kicked the wedge from the bottom of the door. Sean touched the handle and the door swung open.

They surrounded the entrance in a half-circle, listening and waiting for anything or anyone. After a few minutes, Brooks swept into the room and cut left. Brad moved in and to the right, closely followed by Sean. The men had become very good at working together. Very little verbal or hand communication was required with the trio; they had become a tight cohesive force.

Brooks positioned himself at the end of the room at the entrance to the next doorway. The team stacked up and cleared their way through the entire first floor. They found offices filled with banks of computers and control panels that appeared to run the rig’s drilling equipment and life support systems. Fortunately, no primals or bodies were found inside. This building must have had early warning, or was possibly unoccupied during the attacks.

They found a locked hatch to the observation tower but waited before breeching it. Satisfied that the rest of the building was clear, they relaxed their posture and began looking around. Brad found a large control panel labeled ‘desalinization’. He pointed it out to Sean, who smiled and said he hoped it was still operational.

“Damn, between the systems in this room and the pallets of food and water on the decks, we could make a home here for quite a while.” Brooks said.

“Sure as hell seems that way. Let’s just hope all this shit works,” Sean said.

As if on cue, they heard a rumble from the power station. The noise quickly evened out to a purr, and suddenly the lights in the control room popped on. Several of the control panels started lighting up and the computers began to beep and boot up. The men smiled at each other as they examined the gauges and dials.

Brad looked back at the desalinization panel; the status lights quickly went from flashing red to solid green. The digital gauge on the fresh water tanks showed full. Another indicated that the boilers were back online and water pressure was nominal.

“Hell yeah! Look at this,” Brad said, pointing at the gauges.

“Hot showers tonight guys,” Brooks laughed.

The celebration was short-lived, however, as the sounds of gunfire and screams erupted from outside.

“What the fuck is that? Move to contact, let’s go!” Sean yelled.

Brooks quickly put his game face back on and stepped out at a quick trot towards the source of the firing. Brad was right behind him, moving parallel to Sean. The intensity of the firing had quickened and was now mixed with the sounds of primal moans. Brooks turned a corner and his MP5 barked. He didn’t stop; he kept moving forward, keeping the weapon at his eye, and firing controlled shots as he moved.

Brad sped to keep up. He had his own weapon at the ready as he saw a mass of figures at the end of the walkway near the cranes. Sean’s weapon began to fire next to him. Brad searched for targets, trying to distinguish friend from foe.

He finally saw one of the Marines on his back, struggling. A primal was bent over him, clawing and chewing frantically. Brad held his breath and took careful aim, then fired two rounds. His first shots landed in the primal’s hip, spinning the primal away from the Marine. Brad fired again, connecting with its upper chest and head. The beast arched backwards before falling slack against the deck.

Brad pivoted in search of more targets while leaving his eye against his optics. He scanned from left to right. The firing stopped and was replaced by the screaming of the man still on the ground. It was Ben Walkens, one of the Marines who had been assisting with the cleanup. Brooks ran quickly to his side and dropped down, cutting away Ben’s body armor and clothing.

Walkens had scratches all over his face, and deep cuts and chunks of flesh missing from his left shoulder and arm. Brooks pulled a small bottle of alcohol from his aid bag and dumped it all over the Marine’s face and onto his wounded arm, then grabbed a gauze pad and began scrubbing the wounds. Walkens screamed frantically in pain. Nelson had moved forward and was trying to hold the injured man so Brooks could work. Brooks gave Walkens a dose of morphine, then stood and walked away. Sean approached him.

“How’s it look?” Sean asked.

“You know damn well how it looks, Chief. He’s cut wide the fuck open and you know what that means. I poured as much alcohol as I had in the wounds and cleaned them as best I could. Who the fuck knows? Maybe it will kill the infection. How the fuck did this happen?” Brooks stood, shaking his head. “Chief, I need a minute,” he said with deep frustration in his voice.

Brooks turned and walked away from the scene. Sean approached Walkens, still on the ground and a bit more calm with the morphine in his system. Nelson was sitting next to him, applying a pressure dressing to his arm. Brad was walking among the dead primals, double checking that they were terminated.

“How you feeling, pal?” Sean asked Walkens.

“I’m gonna turn into one of those things, ain’t I, Chief?”

“We don’t know that. Brooks is a good medic. Let’s just wait and see, okay buddy?”