Escape The 1st Omnibus: WTF Books 1-3 (7 page)

As they turned a corner, Brooks put his fist in the air and a finger to his lips. Brad was thankful for the new suppressor attached to his M4 as both Sean and Brooks had readied their silenced MP5s in anticipation. Sean took a knee, leaned into a stone wall, and tried to make himself invisible. A group of five crazies were staggering down the street toward them. They were moving slower than they had during the past two days causing Brad to wonder if that was a symptom. Did they slow down as they aged? The primals stumbled at a curb and looked like a pack of drunks as they navigated themselves over it. Without warning, Brad heard the clacking of metal on metal from the SEALS guns, and all five of the infected dropped to the ground. Brooks whispered, “Clear!” and they started moving again. Brad was amazed at the efficiency with which the SEALS could unleash violence.

They rounded a corner and tucked into a tiny store. Brooks made sure the room was clear, and then they huddled near the window. “It’s that two-story building right there,” Sean pointed.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” Brad said.

“We will, but we need you to go first. Make sure they aren’t all hopped up and shoot us,” added Brooks.

“Oh, good plan I guess,” said Brad. “So, you just want me to walk over there and say ‘Hi’?”

“Yeah, but the tricky part is to do it quietly, so you’re not seen or heard by the primals, and also be careful not to spook your Army boys into whacking you,” grinned Sean.

Brooks opened the storefront door and gave Brad a thumbs up. “Good luck,” he whispered. Brad just nodded and made his way to the street; he could see the two-story building had all of its windows covered with heavy drapes. He looked to the left and right and saw no one. He walked into the center of the street, held his hands and rifle over his head, and waved them up and down. There was no response from the building. He watched the windows and saw no movement. The edges of the roof revealed nothing, so he moved to the front door.

He stood by the door listening and heard nothing. “Fuck it,” he whispered to himself. He reached up a hand and knocked on the heavy wooden door. He heard nothing so he knocked again. Hearing nothing inside, he turned to signal the SEALS just as the door crashed open and a large man with a knife dove at him. “No, no, no, no,” Brad yelled. The man stopped his assault with the blade just inches from Brad’s face.

“What the fuck are you doing creeping up on us like that?!” shouted the soldier. Brad recognized him as one of the privates from Third Squad.

Before he could answer, the SEALs had rushed across the street and grabbed them. “Gentlemen? Perhaps we should have this conversation inside? You boys have already made enough noise,” Sean said. They all tumbled through the doorway and Sean closed the door behind them.

Brad found himself standing in a long hallway with doors on both sides and at the end, a set of stairs leading up.

“Oh hey! It’s you, Sergeant Thompson! Sorry about that man, I thought you was one of them things. I wanted to shut it up before he called his buddies,” said the private.

“Where is everyone else?” asked Brad.

“Oh yeah, they’re all in the basement. We been sleeping during the day and we all stand watch at night when they go nuts out there. If one of you wants to watch the door, I’ll take you down there,” answered the private. Brooks nodded to them and dropped his pack. Brad and Sean followed the private down the hall to a heavy steel door.

He knocked on the door and after a minute there was a noise inside and the door cracked open.

“Hey Jones, what you need man?” said the guard.

“We got company. It’s Sergeant Thompson, he just showed up knocking on the door.”

The guard swung the door open and shook Brad’s hand. “Good to see you, Sergeant. We thought you all were dead. Come on down, Sergeant Turner is going to want to talk to you,” said the guard, and he led them down the stairs. The cellar was dark and damp; there was very little light, only what came in through the floorboards above their heads.

They made their way into a damp room. Brad saw soldiers sleeping on the floor, and a small area set up as a latrine. They wound through the dark cellar to a smaller entryway. The soldier knocked on the door frame and they heard a grumble from inside.

“What is it,” called the voice.

“Sergeant Turner? Sergeant Thompson and some men are here,” answered the soldier.

“Huh? What the hell?” A flashlight came on, illuminating the space, and shone into Brad’s face. “Well I’ll be dammed, it
is
you! Come on in man. Have a seat,” said Sergeant Turner.

Turner lit a small gas lantern and the men made their way into the small room. It was sparsely furnished; nothing but a small table with a map laid out on it and a handful of chairs. Brad and Sean made their way to the table and took a seat as Turner hurriedly put on his boots.

“Damn Brad, it’s good to see you brother! I thought you guys were dead,” Turner said as he slapped him on the back and took a seat next to him. “So who’s your friend? Where’s the rest of your crew?”

Brad explained the appearance of the SEALS and that his men were back at the warehouse. He told Turner how they had followed them to Hairatan and how they had watched their battle the previous night.

“Shit, yeah that was bad. One of the kids got scared and popped that damn flare and then things went to shit. We lost Smith over it, but we got lucky, the rest of us made it,” explained Turner.

“Hey guys, I don’t want to be a dick and spoil your reunion, but we only have so much mid-day left. We need to pack up and get moving,” said Sean.

“Moving? Move where? We’re pretty secure in here; I don’t know that we will be moving,” quipped Turner.

“Really Sergeant?” snapped Sean. “Low on ammo, your guys are shitting in buckets, I don’t see much in the way of food or water, and you’re hiding in a cellar. Your soldier here has managed to secure a compound; he has a trailer full of guns and bullets to match, a shipping container of food, running water, and flushing toilets; but hey, suit yourself. We’ll be moving out in fifteen minutes.”

“Whoa! Hold up Chief, I didn’t say we wouldn’t go. And besides, you make a good point; those buckets are starting to smell the place up. Give me some time to get the men organized and we’ll meet you in the hallway upstairs,” answered Turner.

Sean and Brad moved back up to the hallway and briefed Brooks on the move back to the warehouse. “I’m not a fan of your Sergeant Turner,” Sean said to Brad.

“Don’t be too hard on him Chief; he’s kept these guys alive for this long; that’s got to count for something.”

The five soldiers came up the stairs in full packs. They looked beaten and tired, but they said they were ready to get out of the confined cellar. Sean briefed them on how they would move back. There were five of them, so they would move in three teams. Brooks would take point with one, Brad had the middle with two more, and Sean would pick up the rear with the last of them. Sean told them he wanted no firing. If they had to take shots, they were to do it with the suppressed weapons.

“Shit, we don’t have any silenced guns,” said one of the soldiers.

“Here,” said Brooks, handing the soldier a Ruger MK II with a suppressor from his pack. “It’s small but it’s easy to shoot and it will knock them down if you get them in the nugget. Make sure you hit the head,” said Brooks.

Chief reached into his pack and handed his own MK II to Turner. “I’ll be wanting that back, Sergeant,” he said with a smile.

Once the men familiarized themselves with the pistols, they slowly stepped out the door and made their way into the hot street. Brad followed them and hugged the wall. He had two soldiers right behind him and they mimicked his movements. He waited for Brooks’ team to make it past the corner, then Brad bounded forward, looking back to watch Sean and his men fill his previous position. They moved quickly and quietly through the city until they saw Brooks’ fist shoot into the air. Brad and his men dropped to the ground and looked for cover. Brad listened intently for a sign of what was going on up ahead.

He heard the
clack, clack
of Brooks’ MP5, then the sound of the MK II. Brad took a knee and looked forward as he saw both men walking backwards toward them, firing as fast as they could. Brad got to his feet. He looked through his scope and spotted a group of fifteen to twenty coming at them from the alleyway. Before he could pull the trigger, Sean had already brought his group forward and was taking quick, aimed shots, thinning the number of the pack headed at them. Turner faced a building on the street and pried its door open, then turned and provided covering fire while the men dropped inside.

Sean and Brooks were the last ones in and they quickly barricaded the door. The pounding and screaming from the outside was deafening. “Find another exit!” Sean yelled to Brad as they began piling objects against the door. Luckily the door opened out, so the things were pressing it shut as they forced themselves against it.

Brad ran down the long hallway and kicked in an apartment door; as he stepped inside, two crazies came at him from a bedroom. Brad fired at them from the hip with his M4, hitting the first high in the chest and turning it sideways while the second came crashing into him, both of them falling to the ground. Brad was fighting to keep its head and snapping jaws away from him, while the thing scratched and clawed at his body armor. One of the privates followed Brad into the room and quickly ended the crazy with a soccer kick to the head, knocking it loose from Brad. Turning, he then terminated the other one with a burst to the skull from his unsuppressed M4.

The noise of the soldier’s rifle made Brad’s ears ring, but he pushed through the small apartment and saw a window. He broke the glass with the butt of his rifle and peeked outside. The window opened into an alley on the side of the building. There didn’t appear to be a safe way out, but the building across from them had a fire escape with the ladder extended.

Brad gathered the men into the apartment, and told them to get out the window and up the ladder across the alley. He ran back into the hall to find Sean and Brooks finishing the barricading and booby trapping of the door with a claymore mine and trip wire. Brad led the SEALs to the apartment and out the window.

As he suspected, the alley was a dead-end. The open end pointed back to the street where the mob had gathered. Although the alley empty, heading toward the mob was not an option. They quickly made their way to the ladder and climbed as high as they could, pulling themselves over the top rung and onto the building’s roof, then pulled the ladder up behind them.

Sergeant Turner made his way over to them, announcing that the roof was clear and the access door was secure. With a thundering clap they heard the improvised claymore explode in the building below them. The explosion blasted and partially collapsed the building and blew a cloud of dust into the street out front.

“Well I think they know we’re here now,” Sean said with a smile.

“No worries though, I don’t think anything saw us climb this ladder. If we lay low, they should go back to their nests—in a day or two,” Brooks said. Brad frowned at the statement, especially with the sun still high in the sky and his camelback only half full.

Just as Brad was beginning to think it was going to be a long night, they heard the report of AK47s coming from down the street. Brad looked up and over the edge of the roof and saw the small white car. Two men in Arab garb jumped out and began shooting at the mob in front of the destroyed apartment building. When the mob got too close, they jumped back in the car, drove farther down the street, and did it again, effectively leading them away from Brad’s position.

“Son of a bitch! It’s Junayd!” Brooks said. “Look at that shit; he’s clearing the way for us.”

Everyone ran to the edge of the roof to look out below; just then, a large open-bed truck pulled up in front of the building. A man jumped from the cab and waved frantically at them.

“Well, what do we do, Chief?” asked Brad.

“Looks like he’s offering us a ride, rude to turn them down,” Sean answered.

Wasting no time, they all made their way back down the ladder. They ran around the corner and jumped into the back of the truck. A small Arab man closed the tailgate behind them and they sped off.

The truck drove quickly down streets, changing directions every block or two, occasionally bouncing a primal off of its large steel bumper. Junayd’s men drove for some time until they were sure they had lost any followers. They pulled into a darkened side street with high walls on both sides, far from anyplace Brad recognized. Lifting their heads to look over the high tailgate, they saw the small car pull in behind them. Sean and Brooks got to their feet and leapt to the ground. A large Arab man approached and shook Sean’s hand, then embraced Brooks in a bear hug.

“My friends we are even now, you saved me, now I save you,” said Junayd.

“You got that right Junayd,” said Brooks, smiling at the man, “but we also gave you weapons and a car. It would be really nice of you if you could get us back home, and not just leave us on this street.”

“Yes friend, that is a very real possibility, but I need you to also allow my people into your home,” said Junayd. “We have seen that you have taken the customs compound; you must take in our people. This city is not safe for them. Take in my people, and we will safely bring you home.”

“Well it’s not my place to negotiate over, I’m only a guest there, Junayd,” answered Sean.

“I see,” said Junayd, frowning. “It appears you men will have a long walk home. You should hurry. It will be dark soon.”

“Hold up, I think we have room, just get us back to the warehouse and we can work this out,” said Brad.

“Wait Brad, we can’t trust these people, maybe we should just get out here. I think we’re better off on our own,” snapped Turner.

Junayd glared at the insult and turned to walk back to the cars. Brad quickly jumped from the bed of the truck and walked over to Junayd. “Junayd, if you get us safely back to the customs compound, I will open my doors to your people. We’re all in this fight together now,” Brad said, extending his hand.