Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Book 4): Walking In The Shadow Of Death (21 page)

“Not much I can do for him, he
needs rest. Sara will see to his needs,” Ericson answered.

“Okay, then let’s get a move on,”
Sean said.

David opened the safe and handed out
the weapons to Sean and Brad, who quickly reassembled them. When they were
ready they moved back out into the empty first floor of the building. James was
beside the truck, refueling it with a large five-gallon can. He announced that
the truck was nearly full and ready to go. There would be plenty for the trip
north up the road and back again.

David went to the large overhead
door and began raising it as Alex and Jorgensen leapt into the back. “Doc, you
can ride up front with me and Luke,” James shouted over the rumble of the
overhead door. Doors opened and slammed shut as the truck’s engine roared to
life. Brad and Sean joined the other men in the back, and once the factory door
was opened just enough to allow the truck to clear, they backed out of the
large building.

James quickly maneuvered the truck
around in a three-point turn and pulled up next to a waiting David. “Okay boys,
get to the Murphys’ road, and be sure and get back before dark, ya understand?”

“Yes, Father,” they heard James
answer from the cab.

David looked to Jorgensen in the
bed of the truck and gave him a nod. Jorgensen responded with a nod of his own.
The truck ground into gear and slowly crept back down the broken concrete
drive. Brad looked at the surroundings. Unlike on the trip up when they were
confined to the interior of the van, he could now clearly see the terrain. They
were surrounded by a number of old abandoned buildings, many of them crumbling
with nothing left but battered foundations. As Brad searched the area, he could
see that the factory they had taken refuge in was just one of many, a perfect
hiding spot.

23.

The truck moved steadily on the
road heading north. The temperature was lower than the previous day but the
skies were clear, giving no indication of foul weather. Brad watched as the
forest again thinned and returned to the snow-covered rolling hills. There were
no signs of creepers or primals in any direction. Brad put his head down,
pulling his fleece cap low, and tried to relax as the truck rolled down the
paved road.

Alex was sitting in a corner of the
bed with his back resting against the cab of the truck. Like the first time
they had met him, he was again holding the old and battered shotgun. Jorgensen
was next to him cradling a heavy barreled, scoped bolt action .308 rifle. Sean
looked up at Jorgensen and slapped the sole of his boot. “So what’s your role
on this trip?”

“Me? I’m just along to keep the doc
safe and make sure the boys get home okay,” Jorgensen answered.

Sean nodded. “Are you a professional
bodyguard then?”

Jorgensen laughed. “No, more of a
tour guide.”

Sean didn’t bother concealing his
smile. “I’m thinking there is a bit more to that story, Jorgensen.”

“Please friend, call me George.
Yeah, I have been a hunting guide on this isle for close to twenty years.
Mostly rich folks from the mainland. Over my time I have camped or scouted
nearly every inch of this rock.”

“That’s more like it, George. I’d
say you have a valuable skill set.”

“Some may think so, lately I have
felt more like a babysitter than anything else.”

Sean laughed. “Trust me brother, I
know the feeling. So how did you get paired up with this group … I’m sensing
you’re not family, or from the neighborhood.”

“You have a keen sense, Sean, that
you do,” Jorgensen said. “I found David and his group a bit after things went
dark. They were held up in the woods in a tidy little campsite some distance
from here. David claims I saved them, I think they saved me.”

“So you didn’t know them at all,
before I mean?”

“No. I usually work farther west.
Taking out groups of three to four on week-long excursions. Was on a hunt when
this all started. Brought my clients back to the city to try and get them a
flight home. Airports were closed up by then, more planes were landing then
going out.”

“What did you do?”

“I had a mate that ran a charter
fishing business. I thought we might be able to come to an agreement. In those
days a lot of the fishermen were smuggling folks back and forth. We managed to
make it to the marina. Never found my mate, things had begun to fall apart by
then. Signs of infection had been encountered in the cities south and up some
spots north. Most of the mainland was already going dark. Riots were starting,
the military was putting up roadblocks restricting travel. I offered to take
them back to the hunting grounds. I have equipment there, shelter, food. I
figured we could hold out indefinitely.”

“Sound decision-making. What
happened?”

“All of this,” Jorgensen said,
raising his hands. “I waited too long.”

“Your clients?”

“Don’t rightly know friend, lost
them in the chaos. We were at the marina behind the barricades when they hit.
The things broke through … folks were panicking, trying to get to the boats,
anything that floated to get away. Most of the water crafts were swamped. I
made it to a roof top, tried to use my rifle to hold them off. It was no good,
nothing I could do for them,” Jorgensen said, putting both hands on his rifle
and squeezing the handguards.

The truck slowed and pulled to the
side of the road before its engine shut off. Alex and Jorgensen jumped from the
bed as the cab doors opened and shut. “This is the spot,” Luke said as he
walked towards a gravel cut in the road that led further up the hill,
perpendicular and away from the road. With the snowfall and overgrown grass,
many would miss the turnoff if they didn’t know it was there. Adding to the
natural cover, several large boulders and sections of tree trunks had been
placed across a section of the path.

Brad and Sean climbed from the
truck bed to join the others on the ground. Brad carried his heavy pack with
his left hand and walked around the truck to where the gravel path met the
road. Looking up the drive and beyond the barrier, he could see nothing. The
broken trail seemed to go on and on before disappearing into a tree line near
the top of the hill. Casually searching the ground, he saw no footprints, no
signs of life. Brad could see from the corner of his eye that Jorgensen was
doing the same thing.

“You sure this is the correct spot,
boys?” Brad asked.

“Oh yeah, this is the Murphys’
place. I know it don’t look like it, but up beyond those trees it opens up into
some prime pasture. Been here plenty of times,” Luke said.

“We should get going then boys, we
don’t want to waste the daylight. Luke, I’ll be seeing you back here in about
five hours. Keep an eye on your cousin there,” Jorgensen said, smiling.

“You aren’t all going?” Sean asked.

“No, sir, we need to make our
rounds, we have hides to visit and goods to retrieve,” James answered. “Plus it
ain’t good to have this truck parked here, might draw suspicions to the road.”

“Here Luke, take the shotgun,” Alex
said, tossing the old battered weapon to his brother.

Luke caught the gun one-handed and
looked it over. “No, you better take it brother, I’ll be okay in the truck, and
if we see any trouble we will just come on back.”

Brad listened to the discussion and
looked down at his pack and the 870 shotgun strapped to the top. He hesitated
for a moment before making the decision. He loosened the strap holding down the
Remington and slid out the shotgun with the synthetic black stock. “Go ahead
and take that gun Luke, I have something for your brother,” Brad said, handing
the shotgun off to Alex.

“Wow, you sure? This is a lot nicer
than the one we got,” Alex replied.

“Yeah I’m sure, just be careful
with that thing. Works just like the one you got. There’s already a round
loaded in the pipe, and it’s on safe. This isn’t like TV where we wait until we
see the bad guy to go racking a round to look cool. In real life we pop the
safety and squeeze,” Brad explained.

Jorgensen interrupted, “That’s
settled. Luke, James, hit the road, I don’t want any excuses for why you didn’t
make it back here on time.”

“Yes sir,” Luke said, climbing into
the truck beside his cousin. The engine started and the truck pulled away from
the shoulder and continued tracking north away from them.

“Where are they headed?” Brad asked
as he watched the truck fade from view.

“We all have our secrets,
Sergeant,” Jorgensen answered. “But they will be fine, if’in that’s your
concern.”

They stayed in position, hiding by
the concealed road entrance for another thirty minutes until they were sure
they hadn’t drawn the attention of any nearby primals. Brad had offered the
doctor one of his handguns, but the doctor declined. Even in the interest of
his own safety, he refused to arm himself. He convinced the others that he
would be plenty protected with their company.

When it was time to move out, Sean
asked Jorgensen to lead the way on point, keeping Alex close to him. He said it
would make more sense for the Murphys to see a friendly face than those of
strangers. Jorgensen politely accepted the suggestion, but Sean knew he
suspected the real reason. Even though everyone was friendly, there was still
tension in the group, and Sean didn’t want the armed men having his back.

They walked the road in a traveling
formation, two in the front, the doctor holding the center, followed up by Sean
and Brad in the rear. As they traveled, Brad examined the surface and shoulders
of the pockmarked drive. There was little to no evidence of the road being used
recently. If it was in use, the owners had taken precautions to conceal it. No
boot prints, no drag marks or tire tracks. Perhaps there was another trail
leading in and out of the property.

Brad looked up and noticed that the
doctor had slowed his pace and was now walking just in front of him. Ericson
looked back at Brad. “I’m sorry about your friend … have you known him long?”
he said.

“Keep it down, Doc, you’d be surprised
how voices can travel out in the open like this,” Brad said, seeing the
immediate disappointment on the doctor’s face. Brad took a few more steps and
the doctor fell back to walk beside him.

“No, I only met him a few weeks
ago, he’s a good man though,” Brad said, barely above a whisper.

The doctor spoke, still looking
straight ahead. “I find it amazing that the man wasn’t infected. Do you all
have these bite shirts?”

Brad pulled down the collar of his
jacket, showing the thick fabric to the doctor. “Yup, we all do.”

“Amazing, something so simple yet
so effective,” Ericson whispered.

“Doc, exactly how much do you know
about these things, the ones with the
primalis rabia
?” Brad asked.

“Actually, not a lot. I haven’t had
the opportunity to examine one. And either way, I’m not that type of doctor. To
be honest, I have been fairly insulated from them since the first major
attacks. I was lucky to have found my way to David and his family very early.
Still, we were briefed at the hospital, but this wasn’t like a flu pandemic,
all hands on deck type of thing. This was more like nuclear fallout. By the
time we were hit it was too late to respond. From the early medical bulletins,
I understood it to be a sort of rage virus, perhaps rabies based,” Ericson answered.
“It fits the spectrum … Rabies, for example, just by the simple symptoms alone
… aggression, light sensitivity, no social speech patterns, inability to
reason. It is uncanny.”

“But what about the creepers, the
ones that stagger about as if … like zombies.”

“Scientifically speaking, there is
more than one strain of the rabies virus. Not all animals that contract it go
into a rage. Some just wither and die, or lose some motor function faster than others,
or fall into a coma. I suspect the same things exist in this
primalis rabia
virus. Is that the phrase you used to describe it?”

“That’s what the chief said they
called it. He said it was weaponised and used against us.”

“If this was modified in a laboratory,
then all bets are off, my friend,” Ericson whispered. “I would suspect they
found a greater means of transmission, and a way to accelerate the incubation
period, even to extend the life of the infected victim. Fascinating, really.”
Brad looked at the doctor with a puzzled expression. He was about to make a
comment when Jorgensen stopped just where the road entered the tree line. He
motioned for Sean to come to the front. Brad stopped and dropped to a knee,
pulling the doctor down beside him. As Sean moved forward to join Jorgensen and
Alex at the front, Brad saw a man exit the woods, walking towards them.

Not wanting to raise his rifle to
use the optic, Brad squinted hard, trying to focus on the far-off figure. He
watched as Sean changed into a ready stance, then relaxed his posture, lowering
his weapon as he walked forward. He suddenly recognized the man as Brooks. Brad
smiled. “Come on Doc, let’s go, that’s our man,” he said, barely concealing his
excitement.

Brad charged up the road with the
doctor behind him struggling to keep up. As they got closer Brad saw more
figures exit the tree line. They joined Sean and Brooks at the end of the
drive. He recognized more of them, all of his friends. He saw Chelsea. She
turned in his direction and recognized him at nearly the same time. Brad
watched as she began running towards him down the path. He stopped and waited
for her.

He began to speak just as she leapt
at him, catching him in a deep bear hug and planting a wet kiss on his lips.
Brad took a step back, trying to catch his balance. He dropped his rifle and
let it hang from the end of its sling. Failing to steady himself with the large
pack on his back and Chelsea hanging onto him for dear life, he fell backwards
onto the road, landing on the pack, with Chelsea still on top of him.

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.