Escape The 1st Omnibus: WTF Books 1-3 by W.J. Lundy Page B

show us where we can bed down,” said Sean.

 
    The next morning they did maintenance on their vehicle and equipment. Cole and Henry made a run to the shipping containers to resupply their stash of Afghan slop and energy drinks while Brad showed Sean the supplies they had on hand.
    “You guys have done a good job here, Sergeant, you probably have more ammo than anyone within a hundred miles,” Sean said.
    “Well, we took everything we could. We have a few extra weapons too, but the MRAP is our baby right now. I don’t think we would have escaped the mob at Bremmel without it,” replied Brad.
    “Yeah she’s nice, but she’s loud and will attract attention. I’m surprised you didn’t get a mob following you right into this fence; you guys got lucky.”
    “So what’s the plan to get Sergeant Turner and his guys?” Brad asked.
    “Well, first put this on your M4,” Sean said as he handed Brad a threaded suppressor for his rifle. “They are attracted to noise; this will help.”
    They waited until the sun was high in the sky; the Chief had told them that’s when the crazies were the least active. Brad left Méndez in charge of the men and the warehouse before he moved out with the SEALs through the compound gate. They were fast and quiet. Brad was in great shape but the SEALs made him feel like a bumbling idiot as he struggled to keep up with them. They hugged the walls of the buildings, ducked behind abandoned vehicles, and sometimes tucked into alleys to avoid a wandering primal. But the Chief was right; they were less active during the hot mid-day than they were at night.
    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