Only the Dead Live Forever Read Online Free Page A

locked.
    They stood tight
against the wall, looking in all directions. The rain was still coming down
hard but the thunder had faded. They could hear the waves crashing against the
ships and the pylons below. Normally, the ships would have untied and taken the
storm in open waters instead of being thrashed against the platform, but there
must not have been anyone to pilot them.
    Sean looked down
at the deck and grimaced. “I hope those vessels aren’t doing permanent damage
to the structure. We’re in bad enough shape as it is.”
    Brooks lifted
his rifle and scouted the area beyond the building with his optics. “I don’t
see any movement, Chief, and the far walkway looks clear.”
    “We don’t have
the manpower to leave a guard here to cover our six, so we’ll just need to keep
our heads on swivel,” Sean warned.
    They turned and
slowly patrolled toward the helicopter pad, stopping often to listen and check
their back trail. It was hard to hear anything through the pouring rain and the
sounds of the water beating off the steel buildings. The floor was made up of rigid
steel grates; even so, it was hard to see through the tangle of pipes to the
working spaces below.
    The path back to
the flight deck was clear; they could just barely see through the rain to the
landing. Blowing rain was washing across the metal deck grating. The winds rolled
the wash up and blew it across the deck at them. They were already soaked in
the chilled water. Brad had removed his goggles and was wearing a fleece watch
cap. He held his rifle at the ready and tried to stay in position just behind
Brooks as they slowly made their way down the walkway.
    They reached the
landing and, after a brief pause, Brooks made the turn around the corner, with
Sean and Brad behind him. They found the helicopter just as they had left it. They
moved about the landing pad and used the elevated position to survey the
platform. Even in the stormy conditions they were able to see a great deal more
than they had the night before.
    They could
clearly see down onto the storage deck where a large number of crates and
plastic containers were neatly stacked in rows. There were obvious signs of a
battle on the deck. The dead were scattered about and concentrated near a hasty
barricade, close to what appeared to be another staircase leading to the second
deck. There were two other metal buildings on the two remaining corners of the
platform; one appeared be a control building containing large windows, and the
other was only a two-story with no windows.
    The southwest
apron of the helicopter pad leaned out over the edges of the platform. By
pushing up against the railing, they were able to see hundreds of feet below to
the crashing sea. There was no large submarine tender as the Marine had
suggested. They could see a couple of Pakistani-flagged fast attack boats, a
few tugs labeled with the PAK-PETRO logo, and a larger civilian fishing boat. All
of the vessels appeared to be dead in the water and were taking a beating in the
storm.
    Sean tried the
satellite phone; even though he was pulling a strong signal, he couldn’t get an
answer. Frustrated, he powered it down and stowed it back in his assault pack.
    They opened the
doors to the helicopter, quickly loaded the large rucks onto their backs, and
stacked up to make the return trip to the lounge. Brooks was partway down the
stairs to the first landing when his fist shot in the air. Brad struggled to
kneel on the uneven surface of the stairs, battling the weight of his pack as he
strained to turn his head to see what had alerted Brooks. Far in the distance
he spotted it.
    “Oh fuck,” he
gasped.
    There was a
small pack of ten to fifteen primals gathered below them near the entrance to
the lounge. So far they hadn’t been alerted, or they would have been moaning. The
team froze on the stairs and watched the pack. The primals had gathered outside
of the lounge. One of them seemed to be the leader. It was larger than the