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

by Lundy, W. J.

  She lifted her head and looked at Brad and he saw tears in the corners of her eyes. “That was some welcome,” he said, trying to hide the surprise in his voice.

  “We thought you were dead. I promised myself if I ever saw you again … well, you know,” she said, her voice breaking. She buried her head in his chest, still hugging him tightly. Brad’s arms now free of the rifle, he relaxed, lying back against his pack and wrapping his arms around her. He closed his eyes, feeling the weeks of frustration leaving him. He squeezed her tight, forgetting about everything that was happening, embracing the moment, letting down his guard. The sudden release of emotions caused his own eyes to tear up.

  Brad opened his eyes and lifted his head. He saw that they were alone. The others were all at the top of the hill near the tree line. He laid back, exhausted, not wanting to get up, the cold winter air seemingly refreshing now. Brad closed his eyes again and rested his head back against his pack, enjoying the feel of Chelsea against him. He didn’t want to think about anything, he just wanted to rest and take in the present moment.

  “The others are leaving,” he heard her whisper.

  Brad sighed. “It’s okay, everything is okay now,” he said, not wanting to move and re-enter the real world.

  “So much has happened, Brad,” he heard her say as she pushed off of him and got back to her feet. She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling. “Come on soldier, up and at ‘em. The others will want to see you too,” she joked.

  Brad got to his feet. Chelsea took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, still gripping his gloved hand. All of the previous tension and awkwardness between them had vanished. It felt normal for him to be holding her, walking beside her on the gravel road. He didn’t want to make it to the top of the hill, to rejoin the others. “Why can’t things just go back to the way they were. I wish I could wake up from this nightmare,” Brad said in a low voice.

  “Like you said Brad, everything is okay now.”

  24.

  When they reached the top of the hill and entered the tree line, Brad could see why the farm had been so hard for anyone to find. The thick row of trees were barely fifteen feet wide but they hung over and shadowed the gravel drive. The trees were full, and the drive curved through them just enough to conceal the large snow-covered pasture beyond them. Farther out across the rolling hills, Brad spotted the large fieldstone farm house. It was flanked by a large barn and several smaller outbuildings.

  As they walked towards the farmhouse, Brooks and Parker came out to meet them. Brad shook both of their hands and embraced them with hugs. “It’s good to see you Brad, I thought we lost you,” Brooks said as he slapped him on the back. “Not this one though, she wouldn’t stop talking about you, pressing me to go out and search every day,” he said, looking at Chelsea.

  Brad looked down, then back up at Brooks. “Honestly, I don’t even know how long it’s been … after the crash things just blurred together… Oh, how is Kelli? We brought a doctor.”

  “I just met him. Chief filled me in on what you all have been through, that’s some crazy shit, brother… I wouldn’t have sent you for the meds had I known.”

  “Yeah,” Brad said, shaking his head, “I don’t want to talk about that …”

  “Yup the doc just headed off with Mrs. Murphy to take a look at our wounded. She will surely put him to work,” Brooks said.

  “Wait … the wounded … who else is hurt?” Brad asked.

  Avoiding the question, Brooks slapped Brad on the back and pointed towards the large plank wood outbuilding. “Come on, let’s get to the barn. The Murphys have been letting us hold up in there.”

  Brad followed them down the drive which wound past the large stone farmhouse. As they walked, he told them about how they had found Hahn and brought him to the factory. How the people there had taken them in, fed them and helped them find the farm.

  The home sat three stories tall, big and square; the first story was comprised completely of fieldstone. Beyond that, the top two stories were made of overlapping thick blocks of timber. The windows were high off the ground and set into the stone, with more on the second and third stories. Along the front of the house wrapped a decorative covered front porch. From the design of the porch it looked to have been added to the farm house more recently.

  As the drive widened, it flattened out into a large lot, broken and rutted up, probably from hay wagons and tractors. It would have been extremely muddy in the spring, but now in the cold weather the soil was stiff and crumbled under his boots. The barn was tall and matched the design of the house with stone walls and a flat roof. It was sturdy and well built. It wasn’t the type of barn he was used to on the dairy farms back in Michigan, but more closely resembled those he had seen in Germany and Ireland.

  Brooks moved past the large sliding barn door and reached for a wooden handle on a smaller entryway. As they moved inside, Brad could smell the musty hay and livestock, a familiar smell, having grown up near similar rural farms. He looked about and saw that the first floor of the barn had been divided. A large aisle went down the center with livestock pens on either side. There was a loft covering the back half of the barn, and he could see his men up there. Brooks moved to a ladder and began climbing up. Parker urged Brad to go next and he took the heavy rungs in his hand and lifted himself and the weight of the pack up and onto the second floor of the barn.

  He came up over the edge of the loft and was pulled forward by Brooks and quickly helped out of his rucksack. He finally saw everyone together. They were all there. This large area of the loft was arranged like a barracks, with the exception of cots, but individual sleep spaces and personal areas had been arranged with blankets and sleeping bags. Daniel Villegas was in a corner. Sean was talking to him, and from his body language Brad could tell that the conversation was not a pleasant one.

  Brooks indicated Sean and Daniel. “Chief is ripping Danny a new one over the incident at the cabin. Those brothers have had it rough since they got here. Gunner already tore them up over it, and that was when we still thought Hahn was dead.”

  “Where are the wounded” Brad asked.

  “Back here,” Brooks said, indicating for Brad to follow him.

  A section of the loft had been broken up and divided by heavy tarps. Four walls hung, made of fabric, with another providing overhead cover. Once inside the tarps one instantly got the feeling of being in an enclosed tent. A small kerosene stove burned in the center, providing significantly more warmth than outside the canvas partition.

  A row of hasty beds were set up, running head to foot along the back wall of the partition. Kelli was leaned up against a set of large pillows resting, conscious, her bandaged legs outstretched and elevated. Gunner was sitting on a bunk with his shoulder heavily bandaged. Daniel Villegas was laid back on a rack. Ericson and the nurse were slowly unwrapping a set of stained bandages which covered his abdomen. Alex and Jorgensen were just behind them, nervously holding the bag of medical supplies and the doctor’s medical kit.

  “Wha … what happened?” Brad stuttered. He was expecting to see Kelli convalescing, not half his team down.

  Chelsea moved beside Brad and grabbed his hand. “We had trouble,” she said.

  Gunner looked up at Brad. “We had a bit more than that.” He struggled to sit up and face the men, nursing his wounded shoulder, the effort seeming to take all of his wind. “Good to see you Brad, as you can see I’m a bit banged up.”

  “How?” Brad said, still unsure what to make of their situation.

  “We went out looking for you two. After the rest of the team returned from the cabin empty-handed.” Gunner waved a hand and shot a disgusted glare to the outside of the tent. They could just overhear the heated discussion between Joseph and Sean. “When they came back and told us how they abandoned you all in the field, and left Hahn to die …. Well we scrambled a team together.”

  “Hahn isn’t dead,” Brad said in a low voice, not changing his expression.

&nbs
p; “Yeah, I heard,” Gunner acknowledged. “They assumed the worst for him, seeing as they were sure he had been infected. Sean told us the story of how Hahn stayed behind. I guess leaving him was the right thing to do with the information they had.” Gunner paused, looking frustrated, searching for the right words. “It’s all in the past I guess … Anyhow, the brothers were eager to go out after you two, looking for redemption for fucking up and leading that herd back to the cabin, dumb fucks.” Gunner was growing visibly agitated.

  Brooks moved to Gunner’s rack and sat next to him, “Like you said Gunner, it’s in the past.”

  “Yeah, I know …” Gunner looked exhausted and leaned back, trying to get comfortable. “Those shitty painkillers you keep giving me make me tired.”

  “Yeah, it has nothing to do with the blood loss and that hole in your shoulder,” Brooks said sarcastically.

  Brooks continued for Gunner. “Anyhow, the next morning we formed up a small search party, moved out and patrolled the road, figuring that would be the best bet to find you. We searched all day until just before dark, turning up nothing but those slow primals. The next day we decided to cut south and patrol towards the cabin, sticking to the secondary roads.

  “We put down a few of those things on the way, avoiding others when we could. Thought we would come up empty again, ready to turn back for the day, when we came upon a bunch of houses just off the road. Small places, nothing special. But there was a car parked in the road just in front of them. Damn thing was running, could see the hot exhaust rising in the cold air. Just sitting there idling quietly.

  “We dug in and watched, planted ourselves in some heavy cover, saw two men. They were ferrying goods to the car from the house. They were armed,” Brooks paused briefly to motion towards a corner of the tent where two Colt C7 rifles and an older scoped hunting rifle were leaning against a pack. “Their rifles were slung across their backs while they carried boxes of food and other things from the homes. We didn’t have all day to scout them out. Gunner decided to move forward with the Villegases to approach them, while I stayed back in over watch with the long gun.”

  Gunner sat up and jumped back into the story. “Those cocksuckers … They played it up real good, said they were sailors just looking for food, trying to get by. They weren’t real clear on where the hell they were from, but they spoke with a Russian accent. Said they found the rifles at an abandoned checkpoint. They was real interested in how we got here. Wanted to know where we were staying, what provisions we had, if we had women.

  “They got agitated when I wouldn’t tell them. I said we were alone on the trail in search of a couple friends after we got separated in the storm. Everything I owned was on my back, I just wanted to know if they had seen two men. They were about as useless as a bent dick.

  “Talk turned to how impressed they were with our weapons and equipment, and how much ammo did we have, would we be interested in a trade. I still didn’t pick up on them being hostile … Shit, they had their rifles slung behind their backs …” Gunner shook his head, “We told them we didn’t have anything to spare, and they seemed okay with the answer. Russian bastards … I took a round to the shoulder, put me on my ass before I even heard the shot.

  “Second shot took Danny in the gut. Joey somehow made it to cover, he was able to get his rifle up before those two Russian fucks … he had em painted red before they could unsling their rifles. Brooks here put down the sniper.”

  Jorgensen, overhearing the conversation, stepped forward. “I know who they are. I’m sure it’s the same group.”

  Brooks looked at Jorgensen. “Who is this?”

  “His name is Jorgensen, he’s a friend,” Brad said.

  Jorgensen moved closer and extended a hand, “Call me George. I have seen this same group of men. I believe they are responsible for other deaths near here.”

  Jorgensen retold the story of the others, and the missing and murdered families. The encounters on the road. How they had come in on freighters that were now sitting off the coast. The sailors seeking refuge during the outbreak. Jorgensen told how he had tried to get close to their camp near one of the port villages, but didn’t want to risk being caught, or leading them back to the factory. For the most part they had just avoided the strangers, and kept their distance.

  Brooks listened politely before asking questions. “George, this camp, could you show me?”

  Jorgensen looked at him, puzzled. “Well sure, but … We don’t want trouble from them, I have families to protect, and not enough men or weapons to stand up against them. My people have already discussed this, it’s better to keep our distance and stay out of sight.”

  Brooks looked at him seriously, “You do know that these types won’t just stay down there on their side of the valley? Gangs like this are cancers, they will take everything. Once the low-hanging fruit is gone, they will come up this valley in force. Hell, they are already here patrolling, looking for easy targets. What happens when the stuff on the main roads is picked clean, and they start branching out?

  “You said they had some local girls? I’m sure the girls have already told them about your camp. Those men are probably just waiting for spring to come and take what they want.”

  Jorgensen looked frustrated. “I’m sorry friend, like I said it was decided amongst my people to avoid them.”

  Gunner, growing agitated, leaned in towards Jorgensen. “George, we aren’t asking for your permission. Just a little help in locating their camp. We won’t need anything else. We can take care of the rest.”

  “And what will you do when you find them?”

  Gunner smiled. “Think of us as your friendly neighborhood exterminators.”

  “I see,” Jorgensen mumbled. “And if you fail, you poke the hornets’ nest and they come for me and my people, then what?”

  “Just tell them already,” Alex blurted out, joining the conversation.

  “We won’t fail,” Brooks said.

  Jorgensen looked at Alex, shaking his head, “And when they kill these men, then what? Then they are in charge, then they come after us? Is that it?”

  “Jorgensen!” Brad said loudly, getting the man’s attention, “All we want is to get out of here. You said these men were sailors? They came in on ships, are they seaworthy?”

  Jorgensen, thrown off guard by the outburst, looked back to Brad. “Well yes, they came here because they had no place else to go, they were not shipwrecked if that’s what you mean.”

  “It’s exactly what I mean. Could we use their vessels to get home?” Brad asked.

  Ericson turned around from his patient and gave all of them a stern look. “Gentlemen, I must insist you get the hell out of my infirmary. I am sure you can find a more suitable place to discuss such things.”

  Gunner looked to the doctor and nodded his head. “You’re right, Doc, sorry for the disruption,” he said as he prepared to stand.

  “Oh no, not you old man, not till I have had a chance to examine that wound,” Ericson ordered.

  Gunner slumped back onto his rack like a scorned child. “Go on ahead boys, you can fill me in later.”

  25.

  Brad followed the men downstairs into the larger stable area of the barn. They turned and walked behind the ladder, following the middle aisle of the barn, passing the livestock pens filled with sheep, and into a larger workshop space located off the back. The room was annexed onto the rear of the barn and was also built from large pieces of carved fieldstone. A wood stove was glowing in the room with a kettle resting on top. Brad recognized Jeremiah, the man who’d come to them at the plane crash. He was resting in a chair, the stem of a pipe hanging from his lips.

  He leaned forward in his chair and shook Brad and Sean’s hands as they entered the room. “Good to see you men again,” he said.

  “Yes, took us a bit longer to get here than we’d planned,” Sean answered.

  “But still you are here now, that is something.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” S
ean said.

  “And who is this? I recognize Alex, but not this man,” Jeremiah said, pointing the pipe at Jorgensen.

  Jorgensen extended his hand to Jeremiah, “I am George, a friend of the boy’s uncle.”

  “David? David is alive?” Jeremiah laughed. “Figures out of everyone … David would be the one to make it, and let me guess, that red-haired fool cousin of his … Francis as well?”

  Alex smiled. “Yes sir, Uncle David and Francis are both well.”

  “And your father? How is he, I haven’t seen him in quite some time?”

  “Mom and Dad are gone,” Alex said, looking down.

  “That’s a shame, your father was a good man, not like that uncle of yours,” Jeremiah said.

  Brooks moved past them and deeper into the workshop before taking a seat at a large workbench. The others took notice and followed him into the larger part of the workshop. Jeremiah sighed before getting to his feet and following them towards a large block wood table that sat in the middle of the room. He pulled a stool from against the wall and joined them at the table.

  The table already had a large topographical map sitting in the center. Wooden blocks had been placed on it. One was in the approximate location of the farmhouse. Others marked the cabin and the crash site. A large circle was drawn around the village and the clinic. Several X’s were marked, indicating places the team had searched or visited in the days prior.

  Sean stood at the edge of the table and leaned over the map. “You all have been busy.”

  “You didn’t think we were just gonna sit on our asses, did you? Once things quieted down we managed to remove most of the goods from the Antonov. We were able to recover Theo as well. With the help of Jeremiah and his boys, of course,” Brooks said.

  “Thank you for that, sir,” Sean said.

  Jeremiah acknowledged his comment with a nod. Sean turned his gaze back to Jorgensen. “Now on this map, can you tell me where their camp is located?”