The Survival Chronicles (Book 7): Hard Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  “Yeah, what about it?” Barnes replied from behind.

  “You were out of it, delirious maybe, but at one point you came to and snapped out of the shit. You sat up and said they’ve done it, you said something about… mind cipher? What’s that about?”

  Barnes said nothing.

  There’s more to this—

  Mercy stopped and turned around. She stared at Barnes, reading his face. He turned away. Tawny and Flynn looked on, curiosity on their faces.

  “Go on Barnes, spit it out,” Mercy said, her voice low.

  He’s holding something back and it’s not going to be good—

  Barnes hesitated, looking up at the sky. He frowned and started to speak but then stopped. He kicked at the ground then turned to Mercy. “Mind cipher… it’s a code word for a project Cobalt Biotech were working on. It’s classified. Constantine got wind of it, she briefed me, said if I found out it had been executed I was to tell her. We didn’t get a sat phone back at the Smithsonian so she doesn’t know yet. But when her forces encounter those weaponized alphas and mechs in DC she’ll know—”

  Mercy gave the others a puzzled look. “Woah, back up big guy, you’re all over the place. What are you talking about? What’s mind cipher?”

  Barnes spat on the ground then looked at Mercy, “Whole brain emulation, mind upload… mind transfer.”

  Mercy’s face was blank. She shrugged her shoulders and frowned.

  Barnes continued, “When you were sorting out Flynn and Tawny back in the Smithsonian lab… I was talking with Reyes. He filled me in on the GPS tracker and he also told me about mind cipher. It’s the NSA’s… Cobalt Biotech’s code word for their mind transfer programme—”

  Mercy took a step towards Barnes.

  Mind transfer—?

  “For Christ’s sake Barnes, speak in plain English, spill it,” Tawny said, frustration in her voice.

  Barnes kept eye contact with Mercy, “President Mitchell. They’ve copied his mind, his consciousness… and transferred it,” Barnes pointed to the sky, “to the cloud. It’s a computer facsimile of his consciousness, his being, his thought patterns… in AI form. He has become the AI that the NSA use to control their organisation. He’s gone digital, he’s in the network, in the satellites and the remaining computers down here on earth—”

  Barnes paused.

  Mercy closed her eyes, processing Barnes’s words.

  “What the actual fuck—?” Tawny said, her eyes wide.

  How come I know there’s more—?

  “Where is this leading Barnes?” Mercy said, her voice flat.

  “Any electronic device… Mitchell might be able to track it… shit… maybe he could find us through this,” Barnes held up the GPS tracker. “Reyes told me this new AI-Mitchell entity thing can track the alpha queen… he, it, can give her instructions via her neural implants. Reyes said when the queen’s communicating with her pack, her eyes and the pack’s eyes, turn black—”

  Yeah, I remember what he said about the eyes—

  “Is that thing switched off?” Mercy pointed at the tracker.

  Barnes nodded, “Yeah, it’s off. I suggest we only use it when we really have to.”

  Mercy nodded slowly then stopped, “Wait… me and Rose… we killed Mitchell. We riddled him with bullets. I saw his face and—”

  She broke off, staring into space.

  Flynn was in like a flash, “And—? You saw his face and… what?”

  Mercy ran a hand through her hair, “It was him… me and Rose, we checked. But he looked different, older, like an old man. He looked like he was in his eighties, nineties a shadow of his former self—”

  “That doesn’t fit,” Tawny said.

  “Yes, it does,” Barnes interjected. “Reyes said the mind transfer, this whole brain emulation takes its toll on the body, so what you say absolutely fits. It was Mitchell you killed, it was his physical body, aged, decrepit but his mind has escaped and now exists in the digital world.”

  Tawny shuddered, “You make him sound like—”

  “God,” Mercy whispered.

  God. Help. Us.

  Flynn threw his arms out, “So, what are you saying? Is this alpha queen and her pack leading us into a trap? Are we being played? And what the hell has Rose got to do with all of this?”

  Mercy nodded, “I’ve learned it’s healthy to be paranoid when it comes to the NSA and Mitchell. Yes, maybe we are being played. Maybe we’re not. Do I think Rose is integral to this? Yes, maybe not in Mitchell’s plans but yes in the alpha queen’s plans. Maybe she’s carrying out her own agenda and Mitchell is along for the ride or maybe he’s controlling her fully… we just don’t know—”

  Mercy stopped and turned to look at the distant mountains. She pointed west, “All I know is Rose is a prisoner and she’s being taken somewhere by this bitch. I intend to find her. This mind transfer thing has just confirmed my belief that we need every advantage we can get. So yeah, we’ve got to find Billy-Ray’s daughter, we need local knowledge if we’re to stand a chance of getting Rose back—”

  And there it is—

  “We’re getting Rose back,” Tawny echoed.

  “That alpha bitch had better watch out,” Flynn said.

  Barnes shook his head and closed his eyes.

  We’re getting Rose back—

  Chapter 22

  US-33 West

  Mercy examined the map Flynn had taken from the lumber yard office.

  Twenty five miles via US-33, then Route 633, then Route 810… then Route 628 and Route 601 to Mission Home—

  “I wish we had transport,” Tawny said, as they trudged along US-33.

  “Like that Chevy Camaro back there,” Flynn replied.

  “Yeah, well, I was thinking more of a Jeep Wrangler, that beast would eat this road,” Tawny said.

  “What about you Barnes? What would your ride be?” Mercy asked.

  “1968 Ford Mustang 390 GT 2+2 Fastback,” Barnes said, without hesitation.

  Flynn nodded, “Nice… if it was good enough for Steve McQueen it’s good enough for us, right?”

  Mercy looked at Barnes, “I thought your ride was a Harley-Davidson? Route 66 and all that—”

  Barnes nodded, “Sure is, that’s the dream… for that trip. Rest of the time it’s the Mustang. What about you Dawes? What’s your dream ride?”

  Mercy shrugged, “I dunno. I read about the Paris-Dakar Rally in a magazine, the photos were amazing. I liked all the 4x4s… I guess it’s a tie between the Hummer H3 and the Toyota Hilux Dakar—”

  Tawny let out a low whistle, “Get you. You like the real mean machines. It’s a pity, we’re spoilt for choice but there’s the one recurring problem… there ain’t no fuel.”

  “Yeah and the tyres are mostly flat,” Flynn added.

  “Yeah, welcome to the Stone Age,” Mercy said.

  They continued on foot, sticking to the centre of the road, avoiding buildings. They went around the smaller settlements and towns by taking to the fields. Barnes used his compass to navigate the route.

  “There’s a distinct lack of road signs,” Flynn commented.

  Mercy nodded, “Yeah, you’re right, we’ve not seen any signs for a long time—”

  Barnes grunted, “The National Guard removed a lot of road signs in some areas around the time of the Fall. It’s old-school; try and throw people off the track, avoid the population moving around in the great panic. It’s instinctual… at the time of world meltdown people head for the hills. They go to their holiday homes, their hunting lodges… to shelter from the storm, hide it out, hibernate, back to the woods and all that shit—”

  “So, they wanted to prevent people from running to safety?” Flynn said. “Well good luck with that, everyone had GPS on their phones back then—”

  “Like I said, old-school,” Barnes replied.

  “Yeah, anything to prevent the infection from spreading. They’ll have seen what was happening in the cities, all those roads gridlocked. Yea
h, it makes sense to remove the road signs. Well, we’re good with this map and your compass, we’ll get to where we’re going old-school,” Mercy said.

  “Yeah, there’s a lot to be said for analogue as opposed to digital,” Tawny added.

  “There’s a lot to be said for being off grid,” Flynn said.

  They pressed on, filling their water bottles whenever they came across a stream. The day wore on. Mercy could feel sweat running down her back. Her legs and feet began to ache from walking on the hard road surface.

  We’ll get there when we get there—

  Seven and a half hours later they passed through a small settlement.

  “There… a sign,” Flynn pointed into a ditch. He leant over, peering down, “It says Boonesville… we’re in Boonesville—”

  “Are we nearly there yet, mom?” Tawny said.

  Mercy checked the map, “We’re on the money, just a few klicks out from Mission Home.”

  “OK kids, it’s hard, we’re all tired but we’re close. We don’t know what the setup is in Mission Home, there may be this one girl… there may be others with her. So we all get to stay extra frosty… the most dangerous part of the mountain climb is the descent. People get tired, complacent… they relax, they make mistakes, they die—” Barnes said.

  “Thanks for those cheery words Barnes,” Mercy replied. “But yeah I agree with you, and when we reach Mission Home, maybe I should go in first… alone?”

  Flynn stiffened, “No way Mercy. Me and you can go in together, Barnes and Tawny can hang back and watch us.”

  Barnes sighed, “No children, none of that’s going to happen. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll stake the place out before any of you go in. I’ve got the scope and the training. We’ll go in when I say so, end of—”

  Mercy nodded and pointed at Barnes, “Yeah OK, what he said—”

  An hour later they were on the outskirts of Mission Home.

  Mercy checked her watch; 6:27 pm. She turned to Barnes, “So all I’ve got Barnes is: Annalise Young, Mission Home Road, Free Union, VA 22940. Will you be able to find the house?”

  “Don’t sweat it, look at this place, it’s sparsely populated. There’s just a handful of properties here. I’ll work through them, softly softly, one at a time. I’ll be back in a couple of hours tops, wish me luck—” Barnes turned to go.

  Mercy took a step after him, “Hey, wait up big guy.”

  Barnes turned to face her. Mercy threw her arms around him and gave him a hug. “OK, now you can go, be safe.”

  Barnes stood nonplussed for a second then looked at Tawny and Flynn.

  Tawny pulled a face, “Not a chance buddy… you still stink to high heaven.”

  Flynn shook his head and raised his eyes, “I’m afraid she’s right dude, you really are rank.”

  Barnes shook his head then walked away. They watched him disappear around a bend in the road.

  “Feels kind of lonely all of a sudden,” Tawny said.

  “Yeah, it’s like your mom or dad just walked out on you,” Flynn replied. He blanched and closed his eyes, “Shit, sorry Mercy, I didn’t mean—”

  Mercy raised her hand, “It’s OK, that shit’s ancient history… besides your old man walked out on you, so you know what you’re talking about.”

  Flynn nodded but still looked unhappy.

  “Hey, over there, a stream. We can get a wash and a drink and shoot the breeze, wait for our guy to come back.”

  “Yeah, time for some R&R, I’ll take first watch,” Mercy said.

  Two hours later Barnes appeared on the road.

  “Hey, it’s our hero,” Tawny said.

  Mercy peered at Barnes, frowning.

  He’s alone—

  They walked towards him.

  He’s tired, we’re all tired—

  Barnes stopped in the middle of the road and waited for them to reach him.

  Mercy spoke up, “So, what did you find Barnes?”

  Barnes reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He gave it to Mercy. She opened it and stared at the crumpled page.

  38°15'14.6"N 78°39'55.7"W—

  Mercy pulled a face, “They’re co-ordinates, where’d you get this from?”

  Barnes scratched his beard, “Last house I checked. I found the mail box. It was marked YOUNG… and that was inside. I searched the house. It checks out. I found names on documents, old mail, it’s the right place. That’s your girl’s home alright. Annalise Young. Looks like she’s a regular survivalist, an outdoors gal. There’s hunting, shooting, fishing pictures of her with her dad from back in the day—”

  Tawny tapped the paper in Mercy’s hand, “So we’ve got co-ordinates. She’ll have left that for her father to find. So that’s good, right? We can find her? We can use the GPS tracker—”

  “No need, I found a bunch of maps inside the house. I’ve worked out where she is,” Barnes said with a tired smile.

  “Go on, don’t keep us in suspense,” Mercy said, her voice tense.

  Barnes pointed at the tree covered high ground to the west. “She’s up there in the mountains, it’s a campground beside the Appalachian Trail. It’s about three klicks from here over some rough ground—”

  Mercy looked at the sky, “OK, that’s a better result than I had hoped for. I suggest we rest up in the house overnight and head out at first light. We’re in no fit state to take on that hike just now. Besides, if I was her and saw a bunch of strangers approaching her camp in the dark… I’d shoot first and ask questions later—”

  “Yeah, there is that—” Tawny said.

  “Oh, and I saved the best bit till last,” Barnes added. “There’s food and the house is hooked up to some propane cylinders. They’re not empty so—”

  “Oh my god,” Tawny said, “are you saying we—?”

  “Can have showers?” Flynn finished off for her.

  “That’s affirmative,” Barnes said, spitting on the ground as if to seal the deal.

  Chapter 23

  Campground

  “I feel as if I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Tawny said, she emerged from the shower towelling her hair. “There’s even shampoo—”

  “Barnes will need to spend an hour in there. Hey Barnes, you go next, you’re in more need of it than me,” Flynn said.

  They had drawn straws to see who would shower first. Mercy had won and wasted no time. After her shower she wandered around the house taking in its atmosphere, she looked at the framed pictures of Annalise Young and her father.

  I don’t see any pictures of her mother. Another life… another story. Another time—

  Mercy joined Tawny in the kitchen. Barnes had left the map from the lumber yard out on the kitchen table. Tawny was studying it by candlelight. Flynn was on the porch outside, keeping watch.

  “So, what route do you think we should take tomorrow?” Mercy said, looking over Tawny’s shoulder.

  Tawny pointed at the map, “There’s two options, the fast, ankle-breaker direct route that looks good on paper or the slower, safer route by road—”

  “Yeah, well, I think we’ll avoid the ankle-breaker route, so what’s the road route like?” Mercy asked.

  Tawny traced her finger across the map, “Mission Home north to State Route 601, then turn left here onto Simmons Gap Road then continue on to…. Simmons Gap Fire Road here… which takes us up to Simmons Gap and Skyline Drive. Then it’s three miles southwest to the campground along Skyline Drive. It’s a tad over ten miles and just over a two thousand foot climb—”

  “So… about a four hour hike. Nice work,” Mercy said, following the route.

  “Barnes figured it out, it looks manageable. It beats having to use the tracker. I don’t trust that thing. I don’t want a disembodied President Mitchell knowing where we are,” Tawny answered.

  Mercy nodded, “Yeah, there is that… that would uber suck. We’ll have to use that GPS tracker at some point though, and the moment we switch it on it’ll plug us right bac
k into the grid. We might as well wave a big flag and shout: We’re over here boys. The problem is our Rose is out there with that alpha bitch and her pack… and we need to locate them.”

  Mercy sat down. Tawny stared out the kitchen window.

  “Hey, I found these,” Tawny pulled two cheroots from her shirt pocket. “There was a box of them in the dining room,” she handed one to Mercy.

  “Tawny, you’ve earned your stripes for the day. Nice one, let’s kick back,” Mercy lit her cheroot with Tawny’s lighter.

  They sat in their chairs smoking the cheroots. Soon the room was full of fragrant cigar smoke. Mercy closed her eyes and felt her shoulder muscles relax.

  “So, what did you find out about our girl?” Tawny said, blowing smoke rings across the table.

  Mercy blinked, “Annalise? She seems like a regular Daniel Boone character… there’s pictures of her hunting, trapping and fishing. Lots of bushcraft, rock climbing, diving… all that good stuff—”

  Tawny considered Mercy’s words, “She’s gonna be pretty useful then, us city types are out of our element here. No steel and glass. No concrete, no trash, no gangs—”

  “Yeah, and that was before the Fall. God, I miss New York City. Do you think we’ll ever get back there again?”

  Tawny smiled, “Hell yeah, we’re young, we’ve got time… anything’s possible.”

  Mercy shivered and looked away.

  Shit, I’ve got a bad feeling about this one—

  They spent the rest of the evening preparing for the next day. They cleaned their weapons, they ate and rehydrated. Barnes and Flynn ventured out and returned with new clothes from a neighbouring house.

  “It’s weird, there’s no tropes around here,” Tawny said. “It’s as if all the people of Mission Home have vanished.”

  “Like the Mary Celeste—” Mercy added.

  Flynn stirred, “No… they’ve had their share of the pain. Me and Barnes found a whole burial ground at the back of that last house we turned over. They had the same shit here as everywhere else—”

  “Makes sense that Annalise left for the hills. There’ll be food and clean water up there and hopefully less trope activity—” Mercy said.