Fear Mercy

by Fergal F. Nally

Shotgun girl nodded, “Do it quick.” She turned to the others in the room, “Everyone be cool unless this goes tits up, in which case blow her fucking head off.”

  Mercy went to the far window, it was partially open. She leaned close to the gap and shouted, “Tawny, Flynn I’m OK, don’t do anything. Me and the people in here are talking. Stay where you are—”

  Mercy pulled away from the window, the steps creaked outside. She turned to see Pace standing in the doorway, his M16 lowered.

  “Hell, they’re just a bunch of kids, kids with guns,” Pace said.

  The girl with the shotgun bristled. “I’m no kid… she’s a kid though.”

  Pace felt a gun prod him in the lower back. He stiffened and raised his hands.

  “Bird, go easy. We’re talking, not killing,” shotgun girl said to the grimy, feral-looking eight year old holding the laser sighted Glock 43 to Pace’s back.

  The pressure on Pace’s back lessened.

  Mercy took the initiative, “Look, we’re not NSA, we’re looking for our friends; a girl called Rose and a guy like him,” she jerked her thumb at Pace. “We were using kayaks in the sound and were separated from our friends by tropes. You said you’ve got our people—”

  Shotgun girl stood up, a thoughtful look on her face. “Yeah, my friend Sparrow here saw that shit do down. My name’s Fay, that’s Sparrow by the door and Blake behind the table. We got Thomas and Suzie in the back with one of your friends. We picked him up a short distance away from a kayak, he was unconscious when we found him. He’s come around now, still a little groggy though—”

  Mercy took a step, “Show me—”

  Fay took Mercy through to the back room. Ramirez was stretched out on a double bed, his scalp caked with dried blood. A boy and girl stood either side of the bed, guns in their hands. Pace pushed in behind Mercy.

  “Ramirez… buddy, you’re alive,” Pace pressed forwards.

  Mercy blinked and looked out the window.

  Shit, Rose is still out there—

  Chapter 10

  Stilts

  Ramirez opened his eyes, his face broke into a smile, “Pace, you mean they let you in? The standards in this place are slipping.” He spotted Mercy, “Hey, Dawes, glad you made it out of that situation, it was pretty fucked up. I was convinced those tropes were going to drag us all under—”

  Mercy sat on the bed. Thomas caught Fay’s eye and moved away, making room for Mercy and Pace.

  “Glad you made it too, Ramirez. Tell me what happened? Where’s Rose?” Mercy’s head was buzzing with questions.

  Ramirez paused and tried to sit up. Pace leant forwards and helped his friend. “Yeah, it was fucked up. Me and Rose were swept away by the water when the levee burst. Just… swept away, it happened so quick. I managed to keep the kayak upright and had the shore in sight and then boom, three tropes burst out of the water and tried to drag us down. I got one with my knife and Rose, I’m pretty sure, got one. The third pulled me out and bit my arm,” Ramirez patted the Kevlar sleeve under his shirt, “if it wasn’t for this piece of kit—”

  Mercy nodded, “What then?”

  Ramirez focused, “I headbutted the fucker, threw it back in the water, it didn’t come up again. We made it to shore, pulled the kayak into the trees, the water surge had taken us a fair distance away from you guys. We were much closer to that hut on stilts we’d spotted earlier. I didn’t like it, Rose wanted to take a look. I checked the kayak over and waited for her—” he frowned, trying to recall events. “Yeah, a couple of minutes after she left, four militia guys jumped me from outta nowhere. My rifle was useless, caked in mud, they hit me, I hit them,” he held his hand to his temple. “I guess they won.”

  Mercy raised her hand, “And Rose?”

  Ramirez shook his head, “Rose, well Rose is the reason I’m here. She came back through the forest and saw those guys attacking me. She popped two of them, then her gun jammed. Probably full of crap from the river. The others got to her and dragged her down, I was seeing double at that stage and couldn’t stand. I crawled across some tree roots, I remember falling down a slope and then… it’s blank after that.”

  Fay’s voice filled the gap, “That’s where we came in, we were following those guys. They’re NSA militia, they’ve been hunting us here, on the island. They took two of our kids last week; Sasha and Charlie. They’ve been tracking us, all down the Outer Banks. Me, Thomas and Suzie are from the orphanage in Norfolk, Bird’s from Newport News, Sparrow’s from Richmond, Blake’s from Atlantic City. The NSA were taking kids from all the orphanages when the Fall kicked off. They started with the young ones, then they came back for the older kids. The orphanage was still functioning in the early days, but when Atlantic City got nuked, everything went to shit, we escaped and came south. We’ve lost kids along the way. The NSA hunts us down. It’s not been too bad the last few months in here, it’s easier to hide on this island than on the mainland.”

  “So you brought Ramirez back here and looked after him, or at least didn’t kill him,” Mercy said, choosing her words carefully. “Why would you do that?”

  Fay didn’t hesitate, “We thought he was NSA, they have two of our kids, we have him. Bargaining chip, or at the very least an intel source. We want to get our kids back before they’re taken up north—”

  “Wait. What? Up north?” Mercy asked.

  Fay shrugged, “Yeah, they always take the kids up north, to D.C., that’s what we found out when we were in the orphanage.”

  A cold feeling gripped Mercy, she looked across at Pace.

  Fay shuffled her feet, “So you guys are in some kind of resistance? I ain’t heard of no resistance before… so there’s more of you? You could help us get Sasha and Charlie back then… from the militia, from the hut? We’ve not got the numbers to storm that place. We’ve scoped it out though, they’ve got about eight guys in there. That’s where they would’ve taken your friend—”

  Rose—

  Pace turned, “I need to get back to my unit, see what’s happening—”

  Mercy stood up, “Pace, you think you can find your way back and bring your guys here? I need to find out as much as I can about where they’re holding Rose. I’ll stay here with Fay and the others.”

  Pace frowned then shrugged, “Your call. I can be back here in a couple of hours, you OK with that?”

  Mercy nodded, her mind already planning ahead.

  “So how do they operate? How do they get around? What weapons do they use?” Mercy asked Fay and Sparrow once Pace had gone.

  “They patrol in groups of three or four on the peninsula, there they use horses and some jeeps. Out here, on the water they mostly use airboats to get around, then they try and flush us out on foot,” Fay scratched her arm.

  Sparrow pulled out a cheroot stub and lit it, her face glowing with the lighted match. She inhaled deeply then blew out smoke, “They’ve got three airboats docked by the hut at the moment; I scoped it out yesterday. They’ve got tropes in the water, chained to the stilts as a line of defence. They use radios to communicate when they’re out. They’ve got a mixture of SMGs, pistols and most of them have swords.”

  Fay pulled a face, “I’ve seen some of their supply boats, they’ve got a couple rigged with 50 cals and searchlights. I dodged them once or twice.”

  Mercy nodded, “What about dogs? They use them?”

  Fay spat into the small fire, its embers glowing in the grate, “No, not out here on the island, not yet anyways. They use dogs and drones further north though,” she cast a glance at Sparrow.

  “What?” Mercy said.

  “The further north you go, around D.C., up there, they’ve got elite troops, they’re well equipped; weapons, body armour, all that shit. They’ve got D.C. sewn up pretty tight from what I heard—”

  Mercy looked at the fire, her eyes drawn to the flames.

  How in hell am I supposed to get into D.C.? Sounds like bloody Fort Knox. Don’t overanalyse it, just stick to the here and now. If you ca
n get out of New York you can get into D.C.—

  “Fuck their elite troops,” Mercy said.

  Fay glanced at Sparrow and smiled, “Yeah, fuck ’em.” Her words sounded hollow.

  Sparrow looked at her feet and said nothing.

  Pace appeared with Cronin and the rest of the SEAL team two hours later. They had successfully portaged their kayaks to the forest hut. Cronin listened carefully to what Mercy had learned from Fay and her group.

  Cronin scratched his stubble, “OK, so how do you want to do this?”

  Mercy looked at Fay and the others. “We go in at night. They use airboats. I swim out to the hut, untie one of the airboats and float it under the hut. I set it on fire, it’ll set the hut on fire… maybe.”

  Fay pulled a face, “Hang on, how are you gonna get past the tropes they’ve got chained to the stilts?”

  Mercy threw Cronin a look, “Let me worry about that, I can handle it.”

  “Where do you want us?” Pace asked.

  Mercy looked at the crude map Fay had drawn of the hut and the surrounding shoreline.

  “What’s the prevailing wind direction?” Mercy asked Fay.

  Sparrow piped up, “Comes in from the south east, off the sea, whips up the water some.”

  Mercy chewed her lip, studying the map. “OK, so I want you and your men here,” she pointed to the shore east of the hut. Any smoke will be blown away from you, you’ll have a clear view to the hut and the dock area. Fay reckons there could be eight militia in there, I want you to pick them off when they come down the steps to put the fire out.”

  Cronin looked at McShane, “That’s your job McShane. You even beat Mears a few times on the range I seem to remember.”

  McShane grunted, “Don’t worry Lieutenant, I’ll get some payback for Mears.”

  “Just remember, don’t shoot indiscriminately into the hut. Fay’s got two kids in there, Sasha and Charlie, and we’ve got Rose in there, so just take out the militia as they come down the stairs to the dock,” Mercy said.

  Flynn pulled a face, “There’s room for a lot of shit to happen in that plan, what with you going in alone. What’s plan B if the shit hits the fan?”

  Mercy stared at the map, her mind blank.

  Cronin stood up, “I guess that means the cavalry comes in, all guns blazing.”

  Flynn continued, “Sparrow said they’ve got three airboats there. You set one on fire, maybe you could cut free the other two, we could capture them, use them to get away.”

  Mercy nodded, “Yeah, good thought. If the opportunity arises I’ll try and cut them loose.” She turned to Fay, “Have you got any lighter fluid or kerosene for me to use on the boat?”

  Fay nodded, “Yeah, we got some lighter fluid—”

  “Right then, it’s settled. That’s our POA. Fay, your people, are they coming or what?” Tawny asked.

  “Me and Sparrow will show you the way, Sasha and Charlie will cooperate if they know that we’re with you guys. The rest of my crew will pull back to the lake house on the other side of the island. We’ll get it ready for you guys. It’s difficult to find, the militia have never made it to that side of the island,” Fay said.

  Sparrow looked troubled, “We’ve never attacked the militia this way before, we’ve only ever been hunted by them. If you pull this off they’ll come looking for us… in numbers; they have comms in that hut. They’ll be able to call the mainland for help, you’ll only have a short window of time to get our people out.”

  The room was silent.

  Sparrow spat into the fire and gave Mercy a sidelong glance, “Better not fuck things up.”

  Mercy gazed at the dying embers of the fire, “Yeah, no pressure then, thanks for that—”

  Cronin checked his watch, “OK everyone, we’ve got six hours to nightfall. Eat, clean your weapons, rest up, we leave in two hours. That gives us enough time to get into position, we’ll bring three kayaks to keep our options open. Ramirez, you get to sit this one out with Fay’s people in their lake house, we need you recovered from your concussion. Get some spare kit from the others… we’ve got Mear’s weapons, you can use them.”

  Cronin’s men set to work preparing their kit. McShane stripped down Mears’s M24 sniper rifle and set about cleaning it. Fay went to the rest of her crew to go over the plan. Mercy watched as Ramirez moved through the men picking up spare equipment. An uncomfortable feeling washed over her.

  Would we be doing this rescue mission for Ramirez if he’d been captured… and Rose was free?

  Mercy looked at the SEALs.

  These men, these fighters, are they expendable? They’re only here to get me, Rose and Tawny to D.C., we have the biotech to infiltrate the tropes, no one else can. They must know this is suicide…

  Ramirez turned and caught her eye. He smiled and turned away.

  Cronin would have left Ramirez to die. He’s expendable, the others are expendable. Constantine knows this, they all know it. Me, Rose and Tawny… we have to get through, decapitate the NSA, kill Mitchell.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Flynn sidled up to Mercy, holding out a hand.

  She took his hand, they stepped over the assorted kit strewn on the floor and made their way outside. Mercy leaned on the porch railing and closed her eyes.

  It’s relentless—

  Mercy sensed Flynn moving closer. She opened her eyes and turned to him.

  “It’s not fair, we haven’t had time to be, just be… together—”

  Mercy felt a wave of emotion well up inside her.

  No, don’t go there, don’t release it, you won’t be able to bottle it up again. Keep it together—

  Flynn wrapped his arms around her. Mercy put her head on his chest and breathed him in.

  Flynn—

  “I know Mercy, it’s OK, we’re good, we’re solid. We’re fighting for us, we’re fighting for our future. This is real. I’m here for you, always will be. We can do this, everyone has a mountain to climb, this whole thing… it’s just our mountain—”

  Flynn I’m scared of letting you down, of letting everyone down, I’m scared of failing—

  Mercy bit her lip.

  “Of course… we can do this—”

  Chapter 11

  Chained Death

  Mercy was alone, she smeared more camo paint on her face. She stood on the western shore of the channel, two hundred yards from the stilted hut. They had made good time. Cronin and his men were in place on the eastern shore, a hundred yards from the hut, which stood twenty feet above water. Candlelight flickered in two of the windows. Wind and rain whipped across the channel. Two men were on the dock beside the stilts. Another man was working on one of the airboat engines.

  Mercy checked her watch. “They can’t be much longer, they’ve been there for an hour. Move, get closer—” She looked at the inky water at her feet.

  How deep is it? Sink or swim? Better not be any crocs in there. Stop thinking, just go—

  Mercy stepped into the water, the ground sloped away from her feet. Her boots stirred the sandy bed as she waded forwards. The water reached her knees, then her waist. Twenty seconds later it was at her chest.

  Shit, I’ll have to swim—

  But the water stayed at her chest and she continued to move slowly through its cold embrace. The storm had lost some of its ferocity, the men’s voices carried on the wind, unintelligible but animated. She scanned the dock and decided to approach from the end, where the largest airboat was moored.

  That one looks good, it’s in the right position, near the end of the dock. I should be able to cut it free and push it under the hut. Let’s hope it’s got enough fuel for a fire—

  She started to veer right, away from the men. Something tickled her wrist, she looked down and swore.

  Christ, leeches. There’s nothing I can do, leave them, any blood could mean trouble if there’s tropes in the water—

  Mercy approached the end of the dock, wind howled through the stilts. She cocked her head and squinte
d at the dark area under the hut. Vague movement disturbed the shadows around the stilts.

  There they are… tropes, chained to the supports. How the hell did they do that? Suppose it adds an extra defensive layer; no one’s going to want to attack from underneath. Except for me with this biotech, yeah, right—

  Mercy reached the end of the dock and placed her hand on the hull of the last airboat. Her shoulders tensed, the men’s voices were louder. She hid behind the boat and counted to five before sneaking a look. The men were climbing the stairs, one of them carrying a toolbox.

  Good, I’ll free the other two boats first then torch this one—

  Mercy waded over to the first two airboats and cut their mooring ropes, they started to drift, the wind doing its work. She looked up at the hut’s side door and checked her watch; 11:47pm.

  So far so good, they’re inside, door’s shut. OK, let’s flush them out. McShane, I hope you’re ready with that M24—

  Mercy climbed onto the dock and into the remaining airboat. She knelt beside the fuel tank and unscrewed the lid. Petrol fumes made her nose twitch. She smiled and produced a rag, shoving it into the fuel pipe. She soaked the rag with Fay’s lighter fluid and put her Zippo in her top pocket.

  A couple more minutes… just let me get this thing under the hut—

  Mercy slid into the water and cut the mooring rope, she hauled the airboat around the end of the dock and under the hut. The chained tropes ignored her.

  Keep it together, biotech’s working—

  She sidled up to a badly decayed trope and reached under the water to the chain at its waist. It was attached to six others by the same length of chain. Most of the stilts had a ring of chained tropes, some moving, others still. Mercy tied the mooring rope to the chain and waded to the rear of the airboat. A second later the Zippo was in her hand.

  Well, here goes nothing—

  Mercy lit the fuel-soaked rag and threw herself back, under the water. The airboat burst into flames, its heat penetrating the water. She surfaced, away from the flames which were licking the underside of the hut. The fire began to curl around the side of the building.