I did.
Tell me what I’m getting into here.
Acier’s been doing additional research, Liege said.
Nothing shows on current satellite images, Acier said, joining their telepathic convo. Historical images indicate there was once an illegal mine there. It had been in operation for years, but it now appears to have returned to jungle. What they were mining—gold, silver, or platinum—I don’t know. Or something else—rare earth minerals, maybe. I’m doing some more research to see what I can find out about it—who owned it, when it was shut down. Anything else.
I know the boy believes what he’s saying about la Tunda, Merc said. I’m not certain it’s actually ghouls—nor do I think it’s a mythical monster. Everyone here carries machetes. Could be there’s a more natural explanation for the manner in which villagers are disappearing.
If it’s ghouls enforcing border security, then we know we’re dealing with an Omni site, Liege said. Get in there and take a look around, see who’s running it. Could explain what Santo was doing there. And get us a ghoul sample, if you can. We need to see if the ones there have the same mutations as the ones up here do.
2
The compound of the illegal drug works was huge. It surrounded the mine and employed hundreds of workers. The coca shrubs were divided into three sections, each representing the three stages of harvest—those that were being cut back after a harvest, those that would be harvested next, and those currently being harvested. In the last section, tents were set up to protect the harvested leaves as they went through processing to turn them into paste. It was all done in makeshift field labs, using toxic chemicals to break the leaves down in vats that needed constant stirring.
Merc went through the coca area, heading toward the old mine. The boundary between the coca op and the mine was heavily guarded, and not by locals but by white men. Another thing that caught Merc’s interest was the strong energetic dome over the guts of the mine, making it difficult for him to get close. He walked around the whole thing, sending info back to Liege for processing. He got a good look at each of the guards so that the team could add them to their growing body of evidence concerning the Omnis. Did these men work for the Omni World Order itself, or were they employed by a subsection of it…one run by the Legion’s enemy, Brett Flynn?
Merc tried to penetrate the minds of the guards. As regular humans, they should have been open to his reading, but he could retrieve nothing about the mine itself. That topic had somehow been blocked. Between that and the energetic shield over the mine, Merc had part of his answer: this was, in fact, an Omni operation.
It was nearing dusk when Merc returned to the tent he’d identified as the one Pablo slept in. The boys in Pablo’s sleeping group were at the mess hall. Merc sat against a tree trunk as he waited for the boy to return. He’d gone without food for close to a day now, which wasn’t much of an issue as his body was optimized for endurance. He had managed to snag several bottles of water—it was safer to drink bottled water here. He didn’t want to consume the river water. Not because he was concerned with bio-infectants—those his body could easily neutralize—but because the water was contaminated with chemicals from the coca processing and the mine itself. Neither would take him down completely, but they could slow him down while his body purged the toxins.
Pablo came around to the back of the tent after dinner. He handed Merc a plate of beans and rice. Merc ate the entire serving, then set the plate aside and focused on the boy.
“Do you ever go to the mine?” Merc asked. He got to his feet.
“Never. They shoot people poking around there. Or worse, they push them outside the camp at night for la Tunda to get.”
“How often do you hear la Tunda? Nightly?”
“No. Once or twice a week. Or when it’s summoned.”
“I’m heading back tonight.”
Pablo’s eyes widened. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous to be out at night.”
He didn’t want to downplay the boy’s fear. Merc was capable of fighting the ghouls off, but Pablo wasn’t. “When did you last hear it?”
“Last night.”
“Do they come on consecutive nights?”
“Not usually.”
“See? I’ll be fine.” Merc stood.
Pablo got up and started to unbuckle his machete sheath. “If you must go tonight, take this with you. I will get it when I go to my grandmother’s next.”
Merc stopped him. “No. I have what I need. You keep that.”
“When are you going?”
“Now.” Merc set his hand on Pablo’s shoulder. “I’m glad I saw you again.”
Pablo nodded. “Don’t go tonight.”
Merc ignored that. “I’ll find you when you’re in the village next.”
Merc made his way out of the compound, careful not to set off any of Pablo’s alarm canisters. He didn’t look back at the kid, but he felt the deepening sense of gloom the boy suffered. He wished Pablo had job opportunities other than working for the Omnis. When they discovered how smart he was, how loyal and hardworking, they’d swallow him whole.
Merc had jogged away from the camp for about a half-hour when he felt Pablo’s internal turmoil deepen. He quit running and listened to the sounds around him, fighting with himself about returning to see what had Pablo so distraught.
Damn it all, he couldn’t leave the old woman’s grandson so torn up.
Before he could change directions, he heard something running through the underbrush toward him. It was a good size, but not big enough for a ghoul. He stepped off the narrow path and camouflaged himself.
Pablo burst out of the woods. He’d been running hard and was laboring for breath. Merc allowed himself to be seen again as he reached out to grab the boy. At first, Pablo punched and kicked, then realized he wasn’t being attacked and went still. When he recognized Merc, he grabbed his shirt.
“Help! You’ve got to help us!”
“I will. What’s happening?”
“Daniela and her father, they’re out there with la Tunda! It came tonight after all. Come. Fast.”
Merc slipped into Pablo’s mind to understand more of what was happening. Daniela was one of the sex workers in the compound. Pablo was friends with her—they’d both come from Valle de Lágrimas. She was only a couple of years older. Her father had tried everything he’d known to get her back—she’d been taken against her will. Pablo had often relayed notes between them.
“Hurry, señor.”
They weren’t alone. Merc felt the ghoul’s presence before he saw it. The beast seemed to rise out of the shadows behind Pablo. The boy knew it was there. He froze, his mouth opened on a soundless gasp. Merc cast a protection over the kid and slowly pushed Pablo behind him, forcing him to a crouch.
“Cover your ears and keep your eyes shut. Don’t move from this spot.” Merc compelled the boy’s compliance as he eased his short-barreled shotgun from its holster. “You don’t need to see this. I’ll come for you when it’s safe.”
Merc ran into the woods, drawing the ghoul away from the boy. Where there was one ghoul, there were many. Rarely did the Legion encounter solo monsters. His enhanced vision let him easily navigate the dense underbrush. He jumped over fallen branches and vines, his dexterity giving him an advantage the ghoul chasing him didn’t have.
When he got to the main cluster of the monsters, he saw he was too late. Three of them were feeding off the body of the father and one was devouring the daughter. Merc thought about shooting them with his shotgun, but didn’t want to alert the rest of the compound to where he was lest the Omnis unleash more ghouls and a massacre ensued.
Instead, he drew his knives and turned to face the monster that had been chasing him. The thing charged him, clawed hands pawing the air, fangs in its long, doglike snout snapping and gnashing. Merc ducked to the left, rolled, then leapt onto the monster’s back, slicing its carotid artery. Blood pumped from the ghoul, but it was so hopped up on adrenaline that it continue
d its attack. Merc knew the minutes it would take for the thing to bleed out would be his last if he let up. The ghoul caught him and flipped him onto his back, then crawled over him. Merc slashed its femoral arteries, doubling its pace of blood loss, then rolled out from under it just before it collapsed.
The commotion caught the attention of the other ghouls. They looked up from their savage meal, blood and entrails dripping from their jaws. Merc compelled them to see each other as if each were him. The ghoul by the girl charged the other three, causing a fight that was fast and deadly. It was over in mere minutes.
With a wave of his hand, Merc drew the blood and debris from his fight away from his body, dispersing it into the air. He went over to check the bodies of father and daughter. The only blessing was that they were out of harm’s way now, beyond the reach of further Omni atrocities.
Merc pulled his awareness close to himself. The night had gone ungodly quiet. Even the frogs and insects held their relentless droning noise. He expanded his energy, sending it out to the bush around them, testing for the energies of more ghouls.
There were no others at the moment.
Merc dragged the bodies of the ghouls deeper into the underbrush. Pablo didn’t need the nightmares he’d have for the rest of his life if he saw them.
Merc retrieved wide leaves from nearby plants and laid them over the two dead bodies, then knelt next to them, considering what he should do next. If he left them, their corpses would be used to terrorize the workers held captive here. And their families would likely never know what had happened to them. They, like so many others, would simply disappear.
If he took them back to Valle de Lágrimas, the family would have their resolution, but knowing how their loved ones died would kill them.
Either way was hell on the family and the town. But perhaps, in the wider scheme of things, their bodies would be a warning that no villagers should support the work offered in this compound. And that no one was safe anywhere near it. He also had to persuade Pablo to never come back.
The other bit of fallout Merc had to prepare for was that because he’d destroyed the ghouls, the Omnis—or Brett Flynn—would know a Legionnaire was in the area. Things were going to go from bad to worse fast.
Merc went to fetch Pablo. The boy would know where to get sheets and a handcart to transport the two bodies back to town. “Pablo, it’s done. You’re safe—for now. I need you to get some things from camp. Two sheets and a cart or wheelbarrow or something we can use to get your friends back to town. Be quick about it. There might be another round of ghouls headed our way.”
“Not ghouls. Las Tundas.”
“Just go. We’ll discuss it later.”
The boy came back a few minutes later with the requested items. Merc sent him to stand guard with his back to the bodies. Levitating the father, he quickly wrapped him in a sheet and set him on the handcart. He did the same with the daughter, setting her on top. Her body was so much smaller than her father’s. Neither had stood a chance against the ghouls.
Yet again, he had been close, but not close enough, to saving these two, as he hadn’t been fast enough to save Pablo’s mother. Just like he hadn’t gotten home in time to save his own family.
What good was it to have such advanced abilities if he couldn’t save those who needed him?
He lifted the cart’s handles and walked over to Pablo. The boy looked over the bloodied sheets, then took over the cart. “I will push them.”
Merc let him, helping only when the boy tired. He wrestled with what he should tell the village—what would keep them safe and away from the Omni compound? If he said it was a wild animal, the men would go out to hunt it down. If he said it had been a machete attack from guards attempting to keep the father away and the daughter in their control, the villagers would call the government in. If he let Pablo tell them it was la Tunda, they would ridicule him.
There was no way to win this, so he decided not to interfere with the boy’s memory. Hopefully, Pablo, at least, would not go back to the camp.
It was dawn before they returned to the village. The town had no national police presence. Nor did it have an official mayor. Town leaders had a long history of falling victim to gang violence, so they had stopped holding elections. There was, however, an unofficial representative. Pablo pushed the cart to his house.
A sleepy, disheveled, elderly man opened the door. He recognized Pablo right away and hugged him, then looked at Merc warily. Merc couldn’t blame him. He looked like the white guards working the Omni mine, none of whom had been friendly, either at the compound or here in town, apparently.
In rapid Spanish, Pablo told the man what had happened to the father and daughter. The de facto mayor lifted the sheets and looked at the faces—or what remained of them. A big sigh seemed to deflate him.
“Leave them with me. I will take them to Father Eduardo.” He put a hand on Pablo’s shoulder. “Go and get some rest. I am sure we’ll have many questions for you.” He looked at Merc. “Who is your friend?”
“This is—“ The boy frowned. “I don’t know his name. He is the one who saved my mother and me when we were running home the night Belén was born.”
Merc nodded at the old man and introduced himself, using his Legion name.
“Merc saved me again last night—from la Tunda. I saw her. She’s real. She did this to them.”
Merc compelled the mayor to consider all alternatives.
“Maybe it was that,” the elderly man said. “But more likely it was a rogue cougar. Or maybe it was monsters, but human ones with their machetes. We must investigate to get our answers. Go. Get some rest. We will come for you when we have questions.”
Merc and Pablo didn’t speak as they crossed the town to the boy’s grandmother’s home. Pablo walked in, but Merc hung back. He heard the woman’s shriek of joy turn into a howl of despair. She was crying when she came to the door to wave him in.
Merc let Pablo and his grandmother talk. The boy told her everything, speaking with his hands as much as with his mouth. The whole while, his grandmother shook her head.
Not a natural polyglot, Merc—and most of the Legion—had been taught several languages early in their transformation stages. Were it not for the mental enhancements he’d endured, he would not now be able to follow along with what the boy was saying.
After a moment, the grandmother went to the back room to change out of her robe and into her housedress. When she came back, she looked shaken and pale. Standing as tall as her less than five feet allowed, she looked up at him.
“You have been a godsend to me, señor, tonight and before. But I still don’t know your name. I am Maritsa. Tell me, what is your name?”
Merc hesitated. He didn’t like giving his name out, but he’d already introduced himself to the de facto mayor. It really was best that he give his Legion name. After what happened in the jungle, the Omnis would be looking for him. If he tried to hide behind a human identity, they would tear the town apart looking for him.
It was just better this way.
“I’m Merc.”
“Merc.” She gestured to a small kitchen table that was pressed against the wall. “Please, have a seat. I will feed you, and then we will talk.”
She set about fixing breakfast, looking at neither him nor Pablo. When she’d served him a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, rice and beans, and an arepa, she sat in front of him at the table and said, “Now you tell me what happened to my Pablo.”
Damn, but the woman had a spirit a mile wide. Pablo was lucky to have her fighting on his behalf.
“We saw something in the woods,” Merc said.
“It was la Tunda,” Pablo interjected. “She’s real, abuelita.”
Maritsa looked at Merc for verification, but he didn’t take the bait. “As I understand it, Daniela’s father had come to take her away from the compound where Pablo worked. They were attacked by something.”
“I told you. It was la Tunda,” Pablo insisted.
> “Hush, boy. None of your crazy talk. La Tunda is not real. And besides, she devours her victims.”
“She did devour them,” Pablo said, his voice quieter now.
Again Maritsa looked at Merc. He didn’t offer an opinion one way or the other. He just said, “I don’t think Pablo should go back there.”
Maritsa considered that. Merc could feel the fear that gave her. How would they survive? There were few legitimate jobs to be had in town.
“Let’s get through the problem of the dad and daughter before worrying about what comes after. Things may just take care of themselves.”
Maritsa nodded and started to cry. She held a little towel to her face. “What can I say? You saved my Pablo again. Again you were where you needed to be for us. How is that possible? How can I ever thank you?”
“It’s not necessary.” He stood. “Thank you for breakfast. I’m going back to my room to sleep.” He told her where he was staying. “Come get me if I’m needed. Pablo, you need some sleep too.”
Pablo nodded, looking sullen. Merc knew his feelings were hurt because he couldn’t get anyone to believe him. Maybe the truth would come out one day. Maybe it wouldn’t.
Merc was rooting for the latter.
3
Merc kept himself hidden from the villagers as he walked around the meeting in the town square later that day. Two coffins were on display in the middle of the gathering. He took the pulse of the gathering. The residents were angry, sad, and afraid. They talked about how this crime would be added to the murals of all the other gang crimes since the newest group had put its thumb on the town. This heinous crime would be celebrated. They needed a way to defend themselves, but couldn’t without incurring the wrath of the gang. Even assembling in the square to mourn their two lost citizens would have repercussions.
He heard a comment as he passed the edge of the group that they should all be careful what they say around Señor Merc—he was likely one of the jawbreakers working for the mine.
O-Men: Liege's Legion - Merc Page 2
