Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Escaping the Dead) by W. J. Lundy Page B

Sean.
    “What about the other
army unit, SFC Turner and his guys,” Cole asked.
    “Yeah, they are out
there.  We watched them escape, but for some reason they don’t like to lay
low.  Not sure how long they will last without instruction,” Said Sean.
“They took up residence in a two story building on the edge of the city. 
I’m sure they aren’t as comfy as you all are in here.”
    “Well then we need to
get to them, we can’t leave them hanging out there, Chief,” said Brad.
    “Tomorrow son,
tomorrow.  But for now?  Chief needs his sleep.  Besides them things are too
active at night, we would never make it.  So how bout you guys 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.  Brad showed Sean the supplies they had on hand.  “You guys
have done a good job here Sergeant, you probably have more ammo then 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 SFC 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; 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 towards them.  They were moving slower
than they had the past two days; Brad wondered 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