Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Book 4): Walking In The Shadow Of Death (29 page)

33.

Sean sent Brad and Brooks back up
to the high ground to find the others. They walked through the forest, this
time sticking to visible trails. After a distance they found a flat spot with
long views and lay in position, waiting for Jorgensen and the rest of the team.
Sean had chosen to stay back with Johnathon and the others. He was planning to
give them instructions on using the weapons and training on how to split up
watches and defend the walls. Brad didn’t want to leave Sean alone, but he was
anxious to see the rest of the men.

They didn’t have to wait on the
trail for long. Hours before sundown, they saw Joseph Vilegas moving down the
path slowly. He stopped often, crouching down or taking cover. Others were
behind him, following far off. Brooks didn’t want to spook Joseph into a
firefight so he called out when they were still far away.

As Brooks yelled Joseph’s name,
they watched as the man dropped into the prone and out of sight. Brooks called
out again, then watched Joey get back to his feet and step out into the open.
Brad and Brooks stood up and waved to him. They approached each other on the
trail and exchanged handshakes as the rest of the patrol filed forward.
Jorgensen had come through. Brad recognized several faces from the factory as
well as Jeremiah Murphy.

Brad looked back to Joseph, “You
can relax a bit, the village ahead is clear for the most part.”

Joseph nodded and slung his rifle.
He was quieter than usual.

“How’s your brother?” Brooks asked.

Joseph didn’t speak. Instead he
shook his head.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Joey,”
Brad said somberly. Joseph still didn’t say a word and walked further up the
trail.

Jorgensen walked towards the front of
the patrol with Parker and Alex close behind him. Chelsea smiled and walked up
next to Brad. Luke and Alex and their cousin had also joined them on the trail.
All of the factory boys now carried the Canadian versions of M4s, except for
Alex who had held onto the Remington shotgun.

Jeremiah Murphy had moved next to
Brooks. He was wearing an old set of camouflage fatigues with a Canadian flag
on the sleeve and held his rifle naturally like a trained soldier. “So what the
hell are we standing around for?” Jeremiah asked Brooks.

Brooks shrugged his shoulders and
laughed, “Well, you heard the man, let’s get moving.”

The civilians from the village
eagerly greeted the members of the factory. Even though none of them knew each
other personally, they were excited to find other survivors. Luke and the other
boys told them about the factory and the farm, and how they were able to sneak
past the creepers and avoid the Buhmann. Their stories gave them all hope, hope
that they could still find a future on the island.

Brad was exhausted from the past
days’ work. He was resting on a bench near the road, silently watching all of
the activity. He smiled as he watched the boys talk and lighten the mood of the
survivors. He saw Chelsea helping children gather their things. Many of them
would be moving to the factory. Others would stay here at the cove to rebuild.
Chelsea took notice of Brad looking at her; she returned his smile. He watched
as she hugged the children then left them to join him.

She walked across the small road
and took the seat next to him, sitting close. Brad leaned back and made an
exaggerated stretching gesture before putting his arm around her, causing her
to laugh. Chelsea smiled and grabbed his fingers, pulling his arm down and
around her. “I’ll admit it … Sean was right to come here,” Chelsea said,
watching the families interact.

Brad pulled her close to him, not
giving a response, knowing how things could have easily been different. Once
again they had gotten lucky. Many things could have gone wrong, if the gang had
been better prepared to face an armed force and not just the occasional
civilian. As it turned out they were weak and arrogant. They had never prepared
for any defense other than those that worked against the primals. 

Their arrogance, or lack of respect
for other survivors, caused them to ignore the fact that they themselves may
become targets of a greater predator. Sean’s plan to take them by surprise
while they slept, while their guard was down, had worked. Only a small crew had
been able to escape. This group would be stronger now, and better able to
defend themselves against primals or raiders.

“Not much for talking right now,
are ya,” Chelsea said.

“I’m just taking it all in.
Sometimes … if you try really hard, you can imagine things the way they used to
be.” Brad sighed, squeezing her hand and watching the waves roll up and splash
on the beach where hours earlier the raider bodies had been stacked.

Chelsea nodded, then spoke,
changing the subject. “Kelli is doing well. She took to the antibiotics you
found. The doctor says her leg is mending great and she should be walking soon.
It will never be the same though, she will probably need a cane from now on. He
says he would recommend surgery if a place existed today.”

“She’s a tough girl. Any word on
Hahn?”

Chelsea let out a small laugh,
“Some. Mrs. Murphy says he has fallen for that nurse, the one from the
factory.”

“Sara?” Brad asked in a surprised
voice.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Jeremiah and
Parker traveled to the factory and offered to bring him to the farm. He said he
didn’t want to leave, he said he needed to stay closer to the doctor,” Chelsea
laughed again. “Alex told me that Sara hasn’t left his side, and he has gotten
very protective of her and the others at the factory.”

Brad laughed, “Figures, even
missing an arm Hahn is a badass and pulls the ladies.”

They sat, quietly watching the
people on the beach. Sean was talking to a group of the recently liberated men.
With Joseph and Parker’s help they were instructing them how to load and clear
the C7 assault rifles. The civilians had taken to the training, excited to be
able to protect their own. Brad watched as they went through firing positions
and basic drills. Joseph was out front, shouting orders like a seasoned drill
sergeant.

“How is Joey doing? I mean about
his brother?” Brad asked.

Chelsea looked down for a moment.
“He doesn’t talk about it to me. I overheard him speaking to Gunner. He said it
was his fault … if they hadn’t led the group back to the cabin. If they had
waited and walked in like Sean told them to. The cabin never would have been
attacked, they never would have been out searching for you all, and Daniel
never would have been hurt.

“You know that he isn’t right, he’s
angry, he might even be a little crazy. I think he’s going to snap, and when he
does someone is going to get hurt.”

“We all have our ghosts, Chelsea.,
I don’t think we can count anyone out right now,” Brad said.

“That’s what Gunner said. He knows
them all better than anyone, I guess.”

“Why isn’t Gunner here now?” Brad
asked.

“Oh, he wanted to go, he was really
pissed off that we kept him at the farm. Mrs. Murphy wouldn’t hear it though,
she said he needs to stay put until that shoulder heals.”

“Damn, I’d have liked to see that
one,” Brad laughed before leaning back into the bench, stretching his legs to
be warmed in the welcome sun.

“You know we could stay here,” she
whispered, changing the subject. “Things are getting better, they would welcome
our help.”

Brad didn’t say anything. He liked
the idea, but couldn’t get the thought of his stranded men out of his head.
They were counting on him to bring them home. As long as he still had the
means, he would continue his mission. He didn’t know how his men in the desert
were getting by, or if they were even still alive. It really didn’t matter to
him. He’d made a promise and he intended to keep it. There were times when he
wanted to quit and give up, but it was the quiet moments like this that gave
him the energy to continue.

Chelsea put her head on Brad’s
shoulder and closed her eyes. They sat quietly on the bench, blocking out the
movement around them. Trying to pretend things were normal for a while. They
stayed on the bench until the dinner fires had been lit. Children came to them
and asked that they join the families. Brad smiled and let a small boy pull him
to his feet. He then turned and held Chelsea’s hand as she walked beside him.

Walking to the fire pit, they heard
the small boat’s horn. Brad turned to see Sean waving and calling him to the pier.
Brooks and the rest of the team were with him. Brad let out a long sigh. “Well,
so much for that,” he said. “Maybe I could just ignore them.”

“Yeah right, we know that isn’t
going to happen,” Chelsea said, turning and pulling Brad towards the pier.

Epilogue.

Days and nights were spent
preparing the Coast Guard ship for voyage. Unlike most military vessels, they
found this one to be an unarmed fishery research vessel. Sean was somewhat
disappointed by the discovery. He was hoping for a well-armed surface ship that
they could take to the shores of the United States. Still, this craft was
filled with high tech equipment that would come in very handy once they figured
out how to use it.

The ship was the perfect size for
their crew, and it came equipped with its own Zodiac. At barely twenty-five
meters, it was short and fat, resembling a tug boat more than a military craft.
Brooks had quickly taken on the assignment of getting the ship ready for its
maiden voyage. As on their last maritime adventure, Brooks quickly leveraged
the expertise of Nelson and Chelsea to help with the ship’s systems. Jonathon
had kept his word, and they worked quickly to make sure the ship was loaded
with food and fuel.

Kelli and Gunner joined them at the
village. Kelli’s expertise as a pilot and naval officer had paid off well in
using many of the ship’s navigation instruments. She readily took on the
position of captain, eager to earn a place back on the crew. Gunner’s shoulder
continued to plague him but was healing. He had to keep it in a sling, and had
lost a great deal of range of motion from the gunshot wound. Even with all of
that, Gunner refused to take a back seat to Sean. Together the two had become a
formidable team.

Hahn never joined them at the
beach. Brad had made several visits to the factory to speak with him, but he
had lost his passion for the fight and the return home. He had found something
new with the people at the factory and in the woman, Sara. He had asked
Gunner’s permission to stay behind, and  Gunner granted his request.
Gunner explained that their mission was entirely voluntary. He wouldn’t ask
anyone to go along with them unless they were committed to the goal.

The ship sailed early on the fourth
morning, setting a course for the eastern coast of the United States. None of
them were familiar with the waters, and even after extensive lectures and
hearing countless stories from the sailors at the village they still felt
unprepared. The winter weather had come in and the seas were as rough as you
would expect for the season. Most of the crew had little experience on seagoing
vessels and found themselves sick as soon as they hit open water.

Kelli, Brooks, Sean, and Gunner
were all experienced sailors, but the rest of them had a hard time in the rough
seas. Brad found himself spending most of his time on the bow of the ship
trying to let the cool sea air calm his stomach and ease his headaches. The
waters raged and slapped the sides of the ship. When Brad had first seen it in
the cove, he’d thought it was huge, but now in the endless ocean it felt like a
toy being tossed about in the large waves.

They maintained a constant radio
watch, broadcasting several times an hour. No word was received. At one time
they picked up an automated broadcast from a far-off tower near Halifax.
Instead of a welcome, it was a warning to stay away from their shores. All were
dead, and there would be no rescue. They continued to try. Kelli had figured
out some of the research equipment and managed to boost the radio’s reception capabilities,
but they still garnered no response.

As they neared the shores of
Massachusetts, they picked up radar anomalies. Unknown objects in the water.
Kelli approached close enough to one of them to be able to see it through
binoculars. A small tanker ship, drifting dead. The ‘Yellow Jack’ – the plague
flag – was flying high off its mast, providing a warning for others not to
approach. Kelli steered clear of the ghost ship and continued their course
towards Boston.

On the morning of the fourth day
they caught sight of the Brewster Islands off the coast of Boston. Kelli
brought the ship in close, holding out hope that survivors may have sought
refuge there. They cruised slow and close to the islands, blowing the ship’s
horn and making calls on the radio. There were no signs of life. The ship
continued on into the greater harbor. They hoped to hear sirens, or even
gunshots, but they found nothing but a cold and quiet skyline.

They kept the ship far off shore,
using the scopes and radars to search. At night they used the spotlights to
signal to survivors. They received no signals back, no manmade lights; instead
the shorelines were filled with primals howling and screaming at the light.
Thousands of them flocked to the shores, their moans and screams filling the
night air. The sounds terrified and discouraged them. How could they ever leave
the ship and go ashore?

They pulled anchor at first light
and carefully navigated their way out of the harbor. They moved south, hugging
the coastline, passing Cape Cod and around the island of Nantucket. Every time
they stopped and moved towards shore to sound their horn they were greeted by
the primals. They sailed west towards New York, growing desperate, knowing they
didn’t have indefinite stores of fuel, yet wanting to find a safe port. As they
passed the Hamptons they saw signs of burnt homes and destroyed cottages.

They dropped anchor off the coast
of a State Park, preserving fuel and using their radios to continue to call for
help. The ship when topped off had enough for fourteen days; as they approached
the halfway point their goals began to change. Instead of finding safe harbor,
they began to search for sources of fuel. They debated taking the Zodiac to do
an inland patrol, to search for survivors, or even find small ships they could
board and salvage, but in the end it was decided it would be too dangerous.

The next morning they patrolled
closer to New York and around Breezy Point. Kelli again cut the engines and let
the ship drift the entire afternoon. By late day they had come close, within
easy view of Brighton Beach. Brad had traveled to Coney Island with his family
as a boy. He recognized some of the familiar sights. The boardwalk was empty of
pedestrians; the attractions and rides stood idle. They used binoculars to scan
the long sandy beach, finding it completely void of life.

A number of boats were tied to the
pier. Kellie let them drift closer before powering up the engines and slowly
maneuvering near the moored vessels. As they patrolled in, they saw the primals
emerge from the shadows. Quickly they rushed the boardwalk and filled the
beach. Within minutes the pier itself was crammed with the screaming and
moaning crazies. The sounds filled the air and easily drowned out the rumble of
the ship’s engines. Gunner ordered Kelli to turn them around and head southeast
into open waters.

Brad moved below decks as the ship
traveled away from New York. The boat was small and only designed for a
permanent crew of six, although there was plenty of room for their current crew
of nine. They paired up, sharing the four berthing compartments. Since Kelli
and Chelsea were the only females, and Kelli the only officer, they took the
captain’s berthing. Brad had seen enough for one day, and moved into the ship’s
small mess area.

He moved through the dining room
and into the galley, finding a large pot of coffee. He put his hand to the
metal skin to find it was barely warm. Still, coffee wasn’t something to be
thrown out these days, so he poured himself a cup and moved towards a far seat
at the countertop. He had finally gotten over his sea sickness. It helped that
the waters had calmed as they moved farther south. The lights were off in the
galley. Many of the ship’s non-essential breakers had been cut to conserve
power, especially while they drifted.

Brad sat watching through a
porthole window. He could barely see the tan and greens of the far away
coastline. He didn’t enjoy sailing, but had to admit it was nice enjoying the
comforts of a floating hotel. Even though far from luxurious, the
accommodations of a water plant and hot showers were better than humping it out
on shore. Brad heard a noise and looked behind him to see Brooks enter the
galley.

Brooks poured himself a cup of
coffee and made a scowl as he sipped the cold liquid. “Kelli cut the power to
the galley again I see,” Brooks muttered as he moved across the room and took a
seat next to Brad.

“Cold coffee beats no coffee,” Brad
said. “Anything new up top?”

Brooks took another sip of his
coffee then got up to dig through the cupboards, finding a tin of crackers. He
opened the container and grabbed a handful, then offered the can to Brad.
“Nelson thinks he may have heard a ping on some of the sonar equipment.”

“Ping? What, like from another
ship?” Brad asked.

Brooks chewed the crackers and took
another gulp of the cold coffee. “Yeah I guess, who knows if the kid even knows
how to work that shit. He says he made an active sonar, he’s been running it
day and night. So much scientific gear in that lab to mess with. The little
geek likes to tinker though, I’ll give him that.”

“Whatever keeps him out of
trouble,” Brad joked.

Brooks finished his coffee and
moved out of the galley. Brad really had nothing to do as they moved into warmer
waters. He decided to make his way to the back deck of the vessel. He walked
onto the open deck in time to see Chelsea moving towards the rail with a
fishing pole. Some of the crew had taken up fishing as the boat slowly crawled
to the south. Sean had beginner’s luck, but the rest of them had struck out.
Brad took a seat near a bundle of supplies and watched Chelsea cast the line
far to the side of the ship and slowly reel it back in.

The weather had turned favorable as
they moved down the East Coast. Brad lay back and let the bright sunlight warm
him, using his hat to cover his eyes while he rested. Fading in and out of
sleep, Brad was startled by the slamming of a hatch behind him. Nelson was
yelling and running to the ladder that led towards the upper decks. Brad lifted
his head and sat up. Chelsea had pulled in the line and dropped the pole behind
the rail, moving in the direction of the ladder.

“What did he say?” Brad asked
Chelsea.

Chelsea gave him an excited look.
“He said we’re being pinged,” she shouted as she grabbed the ladder and climbed
to the top.

Brad tiredly climbed to his feet
and walked to the side rail of the ship. They were traveling slowly now, under
five knots. The blue waters slapped at the side as the ship cut through the
swells. Brad heard the engines cut again as Kelli powered down and allowed the
boat to drift. He could hear them talking excitedly on the top decks. Brad
looked towards the distant shore miles away. They were void of city skylines
now, just open greens cut by sandy cliffs.

He looked down at the calm blue
waters. Occasionally a sea bird would fly overhead, circling the boat before
landing in the swells alongside. Brad climbed the ladder to the upper decks. He
avoided the chaos in the control room and headed directly to the bow. He could
still hear them shouting behind him. Brad leaned over the bow and watched the
water. Suddenly the team behind him grew quiet. Brad could hear the rapid
beeping coming over a speaker in the control room as Kelli tuned in the ping.

Brad turned to see the crew
gathered around a console, staring at it intently. Brad heard a loud breaking
of water behind him. He turned to see the ocean surface turn to foam far off
the bow. Quickly the black hulk of a submarine’s sail came vertically straight
out of the blue water, white foam rolling off its sides. Brad stepped back in
shock as the rest of the large submarine, at least a hundred meters long, came
into view. He stumbled forward and placed both hands on the bow rail as the
rest of the crew rushed forward and joined him.

They watched as the submarine
floated silently hundreds of meters off of their bow. He could hear Kelli
shouting behind him, calling them on the radio, flipping channels and hailing
over and over with no response. Brad watched as men in yellow and orange
jackets came into view atop the sail. Chelsea moved beside him and placed her
hand on his. The men on the sail moved back and forth before hoisting a British
flag atop a tall mast.