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

Lieutenant until we come up with
something different.” 
    Brad grinned, “I
appreciate the gesture Sergeant, but I don’t think you have the authority to
give battle field commissions,” he laughed. 
    “Yeah you’re probably
right, but this is the best I got Brad.  It allows me to save face, and will
keep the men from getting caught up in a power struggle,” responded
Turner. 
    “Well then, sounds good
to me.  I have work to do Sergeant, we can talk again later,” said Brad.
    “Okay buddy, and how
bout you drop the ‘Sergeant’ shit?  We can catch up after I grab some shut
eye.”
    Brad walked outside the
warehouse door; he bumped into Sean heading back in the other direction. 
He explained what had just happened with Turner.  “Well damn, I didn’t
think the guy had it in him, but I think it was the right decision.  I was
afraid we wouldn’t be able 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 an explosion
distant in the city.  A fire began to burn, and they heard reports of the
AK47 rifles. 
    “Well there is Junayd,
right on time,” said Brooks.  They could see the primal crazies shifting
in the streets and heading towards 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 on 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 then he had expected.
    Brad watched his men
open the gates and guide the overloaded trucks in.  They lead 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 don’t 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, 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 saw that the warehouse was laid out very similarly to the one they were
using.
    As he walked, he saw
that Eric had converted one of the offices into a medical clinic and he was
treating a small child, and 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 of 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
could hear the vehicles approach the gate. While they walked, Brad saw his men
working with some of Junayd’s men to open the gates and escort in the small
car.  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