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

to work together, maybe I was wrong,” said Sean.
    “Sergeant Turner isn’t a bad guy, and he has a lot of combat experience. I trust him.”
    They were beginning to lose the daylight, so they retreated inside and climbed to the roof. Just as the last bits of sunlight faded, they heard a distant explosion. A fire began to burn and they heard reports of the AK47 rifles.
    “Well there’s Junayd, right on time,” said Brooks. They could see the primal crazies shifting in the streets and heading for the racket on the far side of town. Sean grinned when the two flares popped and went high into the sky. “They must have learned that trick from your sergeant,” he chuckled.
    “Wherever they learned it, it’s working. Look at them all, they go to it like mosquitoes to a bug zapper,” laughed Cole.
    Eric pointed down toward the railroad gate at the front of the compound. “They’re here.”
    Brad stood to look and saw four large flatbed trucks overloaded with people; a few more than he had expected. He watched his men open the gates and guide the overloaded trucks in. They led them all the way down to the empty warehouse. Brad left the roof and made his way down the ladder. When he reached the small convoy of vehicles he was greeted by Junayd with another stiff handshake.
    “Thank you my friend,” Junayd said. “These people had it very badly out there; I do not think you realize how much safety and security these fences will give them.”
    Brad watched as his men helped women and children exit the vehicles and enter the warehouse. He moved into the building with them; it was dark, but they were afraid to turn on any lights while the overhead doors were still open. Sean and his men had laid out cardboard into makeshift mats on the ground for the people to sit on. Brad quickly noticed that the warehouse was laid out in a very similar fashion to the one they were using.
    As he walked, he saw that Eric had converted one of the offices into a medical clinic where he was treating a small child while others had already started to get in line. The loft area was already occupied by several men and they were carrying their limited supplies up the stairs for safekeeping. Brad looked around and tried to get a count in his head.
    “Junayd, you have nearly fifty people here; this will be a lot to feed,” Brad said.
    “Seventy-two to be exact; and yes it will be a lot, but the city holds resources. Unlike Americans, we know how to live off this land. We will be fine my friends, shortly my men will return from their mini-Jihad against the monsters in the city. Let’s walk so that we may greet them,” said Junayd.
    As if on cue, they heard the vehicles approaching the gate. While they walked, Brad saw his men working with some of Junayd’s men to open the gates and escort the small car in. Once the car pulled in and killed its engine, the small man from before stepped out with four other local fighters. Junayd exchanged words with the man and then patted him hard on the shoulder while facing Brad.
    “This is Hasan, he is my best soldier.”
    Brad extended his hand and smiled. “I think we almost met earlier today. Thank you for your help, Hasan, and good work getting the people here safely.” Hasan smiled as he returned the handshake.
    The next several days were spent improving the small camp. The soldiers decided to give up the warehouse space to the civilians and they all moved into a small guardhouse near the gate. Although the guardhouse was smaller, it gave the soldiers privacy and relieved them of the guilt of leaving the families crammed into the single space. They continued to stand watch nightly on the roof of the warehouse in the sniper hide they had set up. With the help of Junayd’s men providing distractions so that the noise wouldn’t attract the primals, they were able to utilize some of the heavy equipment to move the railroad shipping containers into a large wall. After a few days’ work, the compound was