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

by Lundy, W. J.

  Brad walked closer then leaned against a tall pine looking back towards the makeshift campsite. “Where’s your brother?”

  “Two hundred meters out that way. Watching over the far side of the plane.”

  “You see anything?”

  Daniel shook his head and looked out over the campsite. “Nothing. How’s Kelli?”

  “Brooks is keeping her drugged up. He says she’s going to need a doctor.”

  “Doctor? Hell, where we gonna find us one of them?” Daniel grouched.

  “Yeah … I don’t know.”

  “Psst, get back in the trees,” Daniel whispered as he stepped back in to the cover of the tree line.

  Brad took a knee next to the tall pine he had been leaning against. “What is it?”

  “Joey just signaled,” Daniel whispered, pointing far off. “There, see it?”

  Brad followed his finger to the far off patch of trees. He spotted the flash of a signal mirror.

  “What does it mean?”

  “It ain’t exactly a radio, Sergeant … he sees something, so get your eyes open.”

  “There, off the nose of the aircraft above that ridgeline,” Daniel whispered.

  Brad lifted his rifle and used the optics to search the area. He spotted them: three figures walking slowly, two out front, and another trailing farther behind. “What do you make of it?” he whispered.

  “Well they ain’t primal. The two out front are carrying long guns.”

  “I have to get down to the campsite and warn the others, you stay here. If things go bad, meet up with your brother and flank from his direction,” Brad whispered.

  He stepped off, ducking low. He tried to stay in the shadow of the trees as he wound his way back down into the valley and towards the campsite. As he moved he felt the wound in his leg tighten up. The pain reminded him that he still hadn’t fully recovered from the fall in Yemen, the fall that had nearly cost him his life. Brad slowed his pace and took a knee in the snow. He lifted his rifle and searched the far off ridge line. He could no longer see the three strangers.

  Brad slowly got back on his feet and continued his move towards the others. As he approached, Sergeant Hahn took notice of him and lifted his head in Brad’s direction. Brad quickly held up three fingers and pointed to the far off ridgeline. Hahn nodded before turning on the balls of his feet and quietly began waking the others. Brad moved into the enclosed campsite and kicked out the low-burning fire. He was careful to spread the ashes instead of smothering it, to prevent extra smoke.

  Chelsea was awake and cradling her rifle. Gunner and Sean had already gotten to their feet and had moved off towards the aircraft to warn Brooks and Nelson who were caring for Kelli. Parker and Hahn, with weapons in their arms, moved into the outcropping of rocks and took up a concealed position just ahead of them. Parker had swapped his SAW for Theo’s suppressed M203. He didn’t want to make more noise than necessary. Chelsea looked back at Brad as the men moved out. She looked confused as if she wasn’t sure what to do. “What did you see, Brad?”

  “There’s three people on the ridge moving in this direction,” he answered.

  “Primals?” she gasped, fear in her voice.

  “No. Not unless the primals are carrying rifles now … They looked like civilians, but they’re armed.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “I don’t even know where we are at. We have no idea who is out here.”

  “We’re in Canada,” Chelsea said.

  “That’s a pretty big place.”

  “I know … Kelli said she was going to put us down on an island near the coast. Well, that was the plan before we started losing altitude.”

  “Okay, stay quiet, either way we have them out gunned and outnumbered. Are you okay to move forward?” Brad asked, not wanting to leave her alone at the campsite.

  “Yeah, I’m feeling better,” Chelsea answered.

  “Good, stay behind me and stay as quiet as possible,” Brad ordered.

  He checked his rifle and headed into the rocks towards Hahn and Parker. He found them prone with their rifles pointed towards the tail of the aircraft. There was a muddy path in the snow that led down and around to the aircraft’s door. They had used the path all night to ferry heated stones and blankets to Kelli. Brad wanted to get into a better position. If their visitors spotted the tracks in the snow, they would know the team was outside of the aircraft. Brad didn’t want to give up that information.

  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.”