Read Online Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Book 4): Walking In The Shadow Of Death by W.J. Lundy - Free Book Online Page A

looking
at me to look at you?” Brad said. “I’m telling you man, something is still
clicking inside of this one.”
    “Yeah, but they’re still stupid,”
Joseph interjected.
    “No,” Hahn said, looking back over
his shoulder. “Brad is right, this thing somehow halted them on the trail, and
he pointed out our position. This one was smart.”
    Sean finally came up beside the
rest of them. He was covered in grime. His uniform top was ripped and blood ran
down his arms; his face was scratched and bleeding. Brad looked up at him.
“Hell Chief, you okay?”
    “I’ve been better. Come on, suit up
guys, we need to get moving.”
    “Wait Chief, don’t ya think you
need some rest? You look like shit,” Brad said.
    “No, we need to get moving again,
get off this trail and into the bush. According to the map, the cabin should
only be another couple hours. I’ll rest when we get there.”
    “You’re bleeding, Chief … Did they
scratch you?” Parker said hesitantly.
    “No. I messed myself up running
through the brush. If you boys really want to help, I need ammo. My 7.62 is
dried up. I need nine mil, I burnt though a lot of rounds last night. I was
down to half a mag on the MP5 and a couple mags for the sidearm when I found
you.”
    “I have two boxes of nine in my
pack. Let’s beat feet. I’ll help you reload on the trail,” Daniel said.
    “What do we do about this?” Brad
said, pointing at the Alpha who was still bleeding out.
    Joseph stepped forward with his
tomahawk and with a quick swing he split the Alpha’s skull. “That thing ain’t
nothing to worry about ... not anymore. Come on, I’ll meet you at the top of
the hill,” he said, walking away with his brother following him.
     
     

 
    7.
     
    They followed Joseph up the hill
and moved quickly across the top of it. According to Sean’s map, the cabin was
located across a saddle from their current position. The men kept a quick pace.
Even though exhausted, they had no intentions of spending another night
outside. That and they wanted to separate themselves from the pursuing primals.
    They moved through unbroken brush
now, avoiding trails, taking the path of most resistance. They found a small
stream, and even though it caused them to soak their cold feet, they waded
through the water as they followed it down the hill. The men were doing
everything they could to become hard to follow. Walking the streambed paved
with polished stones would help them avoid boot prints on the trail. The
tradeoff was cold and miserable feet. They tracked the stream for over five
hundred meters before moving back to the shore on the far side.
    Sean broke some pine boughs to try
and brush away the tracks in the snow, concealing the spot where they exited the
water. Farther from the stream they spotted the old gravel road that the map
showed them would lead to the cabin. A burnt-out stone foundation near a plank
bridge was the final landmark. A small drive would be located just past it; it
would be covered. The team continued to move in line, meters from the road,
trying to remain hidden while they searched for the drive.
    Hahn spotted it first, broken and
rutted as if a heavy truck had used it often, probably in the spring or early
fall when the ground was soft, using four wheel drive to battle its way up the
muddy drive. The entrance was halfheartedly blocked by a long pole and two cut
pine trees. Brad had seen similar things done around the hunting lodges in
northern Michigan. These remote deer camps were often rustic and seldom used,
so the owners would block or conceal the drives when they left them at the end
of the season, hoping to deter thieves or vandals.
    The men approached the drive
tactically, posting on the opposite side of the road and providing cover as
they ran across it two at a time.  Not knowing if there were still roaming
primals about, they didn’t want to be exposed and in the open. They set back up
in three groups of two, now just off the head