Nothing—
She listened at the door.
Nothing—
Her hand twisted the handle.
It’s open—
She frowned, paranoia surfacing.
Too easy—
She checked her watch; 3:41 am.
No time to be suspicious, just do it—
Mercy opened the door and entered the dark corridor.
No stench, good. Find the internal stairs—
She kept her head torch off and felt her way down the corridor. She passed two numbered apartment doors before reaching a set of lifts and an accompanying stair door. The stairwell was dark, she switched on her head torch using its red filter and climbed to the first floor. She opened the upper door a crack and listened before stepping out into the corridor.
Musty, damp, probably a leak in the roof—
Mercy took a step on the damp carpet, her fingers reaching out to the wall on her right. A soft click came from behind. She froze.
Revolver—
“Stop right there or I’ll shoot—” a male voice.
Fuck—
Mercy slumped her shoulders, feigning defeat, then threw herself to the floor and rolled into a recess in the corridor. “Don’t shoot, I don’t mean you any harm—”
The man cursed, “What do you want?”
Dim candlelight reflected in a mirror on the far wall. The reflection revealed a bearded man and a young girl behind him, her long hair dishevelled.
Mercy pulled out her silenced SIG and placed her back against the wall. “Listen, I’ve got a job to do, then I’m gone.” She paused, “Look, me and some friends, we’re breaking out of here, we’ve got a boat, we’re heading up the bay. You can join us if you want—”
The man’s eyes went to the mirror, he retreated into the doorway. “Leave us alone, we ain’t got nothing to steal in here. Leave us be—” he closed the door and engaged the lock.
Mercy exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. She checked her watch.
Seven minutes, shit—
She felt her way to the last apartment and tried the door.
Locked, dammit—
She took her knife out and forced the lock. Wood splintered around her blade, the lock loosened. She forced the door open with her shoulder. The stench hit her like a physical blow, she brought up the SIG and waited.
Nothing—
Dim moonlight filtered in through grimy windows. She crossed the room and looked out at the NSA-occupied gatehouse across the road. A man was positioned at each corner of the flat roof giving them an all-round view of their surroundings. Mercy checked her watch.
Five minutes—
A gasp came from behind. Mercy swung around, two tropes were lying on the bed. An elderly man and woman, side by side, long dead but their bodies still animated by the virus. They twitched, grasping at the bedsheets, their bodies skin and bone. Mercy crossed the room and dispatched them with her knife. She returned to the window and looked out.
Double glazing, the angle’s not quite right. If I open the window they’ll hear me. Shit… try the opposite apartment, it might be better—
Mercy left the room and went to the door across the hall. A figure loomed halfway down the corridor holding a candle. Mercy brought her pistol up then lowered it, recognising the man from earlier.
The man stopped and held up his hand, “You said you had a boat… you’re leaving?”
Mercy nodded, “Yes, after I’ve finished here. You and your kid can join us if you stay out of my way for the next twenty minutes—”
The man paused, “OK, we’ll come with you… after you’re done here.”
Mercy nodded, “I’ll call for you, just lie low for the moment—”
The man turned and retreated down the corridor.
Two minutes—
Mercy tried the door handle. The door opened, the room was clear. She went to the window and looked out.
Better angle but the double glazing’s going to deflect the bullet—
The nearest NSA soldier on the gatehouse stiffened. Mercy followed his gaze; Sparrow and Bird were walking down the road, pushing a baby carriage laden with supplies.
Nice touch, the stroller—
Mercy aimed her M16 at the NSA man and waited. He turned and said something to the other men then shouted at Sparrow and Bird. “Hey, you kids. Stop where you are. Don’t move or I’ll shoot—”
Sparrow froze and brought a hand to Bird’s chest. They looked up towards the gatehouse roof. One of the other NSA men went to a hatch in the roof and climbed down into the gatehouse emerging from the front door seconds later. He approached Sparrow and Bird, his gun pointed at Sparrow’s chest.
“Hands up, any trouble and I’ll—”
Mercy squeezed her trigger, the window exploded into fragments, her bullets tore into the gatehouse roof missing the NSA soldiers. The soldiers returned fire, their rounds slamming into the building. Mercy ducked beneath the window but kept her M16 held aloft, firing blindly through the window. More rounds punched into the outside wall then stopped as new gunfire erupted on the far side of the gatehouse. Mercy reloaded and counted to three, she risked a glance through the window. Sparrow was on the ground beside the stroller. Bird and the NSA man were gone.
Shit—
Mercy’s eyes went to the gatehouse roof. The nearest NSA man was unmoving, the other two were firing into the bushes behind the gatehouse. One was reaching for something in his webbing.
Grenade—
Mercy took aim and emptied a whole magazine at him, his body went limp as her rounds shattered his skull and spine. Mercy cursed.
Out of ammo—
The last NSA man was pinned down by the others.
They’ll just have to finish him off. Where’s the first guy gone? And Bird?
Mercy looked out the window.
It’s only the first floor. I can drop down onto the grass—
Mercy grabbed a throw from the sofa and draped it across the broken glass in the window frame. She climbed out, hung from the windowsill, then dropped to the ground. The gunfire stopped and silence filled the air. Mercy’s eyes darted about.
Where is that bastard?
She took a step towards the road. A twig snapped to her right and she swung around staring at the corner of the building. A slight rustle and a muffled cry broke the silence. She darted to the edge of the building and pulled out her SIG. She threw herself to the ground, rolling as she landed, the pistol out in front. The NSA man was backing away along the rear of the building using Bird as a human shield, his gun pressed to her head.
He pulled a twisted face at Mercy. “Drop your weapon or she dies.”
No fucking way—
Mercy kept her SIG trained on the man. His hand tightened around Bird’s throat making her choke.
“Have it your way, bitch,” the man sneered as he squeezed his trigger.
Bird slumped to the ground.
Mercy gritted her teeth and shot the man twice, one round slamming into his mouth the other round punching a neat hole in his forehead.
Son of a bitch—
Mercy lowered her face into the grass and screamed.
Chapter 35
Go Fast
“Saw one of them bastards get to his radio,” Pace said, his eyes darting to the sky.
Fay looked up from Bird’s body, tears staining her face, “It’s too much. We’ve got to bury them; Bird, Sparrow and Sasha, they didn’t make it, they gave their lives for us—”
Cronin shook his head, “Fay, I feel your pain, but we don’t have time, this whole place will be crawling with NSA in the next thirty minutes. Billy-Ray’s got a bullet fragment in his leg, he can hardly walk. We’ve barely enough time as it is.” Cronin turned to the others, “Everyone get to the boat, bring it down to the marina. I’ll… take care of Bird, Sparrow and Sasha—”
Mercy held up a hand, “Just a minute, there was a guy and a young girl in the apartment complex. They wanted to come with us�
�” Mercy turned towards the building and shouted, “Hey, you guys it’s OK, come out now. Come and join us, we’re leaving.”
She was met with silence.
Cronin edged forwards, “Try again.”
Mercy took a few steps towards the building and called out, “Hey people, we’re going, this is your last chance, come on out, you can leave with us—”
Cronin shook his head, “Forget it. It’s their choice, we’ve gotta bail—”
Mercy returned the M16 to Cronin and took an M4 carbine from one of the dead NSA soldiers. She put an arm around Fay and led her away. The others followed, not looking back, they did not envy Cronin his job. Ten minutes later Pace and Hicks had the RIB at the padlocked rear gate.
“Rose, a slug round ought to do it,” Pace said.
Rose unslung her Winchester shotgun and chambered a round. “Stand back,” she ordered.
Two slug rounds later they were through the gate and dragging the boat down to a slipway beside the marina. The outlines of sunken yachts and their masts were visible in the moonlight. They boarded the RIB, Pace taking the tiller.
Cronin appeared moments later, his face grim. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Pace gunned the four Yamaha outboard engines and the boat tore away from the marina. The roar pulsed through Mercy’s head. She looked at the others; Cronin, Pace, Hicks, Fay, Flynn, Tawny, Rose and Billy-Ray. Flynn glanced back at her, he attempted a smile but his eyes were empty.
Cronin was talking to Billy-Ray and pointing at a map of Chesapeake Bay, nodding. Mercy watched the shoreline pass by, relief and dread in her veins in equal measure. Trees and shorefront properties unfolded in a soft blur in front of her eyes. Water spray mixed with her tears, washing them away.
Fifteen minutes later Rose pointed back towards Buckroe Beach. Two searchlights were stabbing the shoreline from the bay, another searchlight hung in the sky. “Cronin was right, the bastards are crawling all over the place.”
Mercy nodded and looked ahead, “So what’s the plan?”
Pace reckons we can get near the mouth of the Potomac River with the fuel we’ve got. Turns out Billy-Ray knows a refuel stop around there from his drug running days. He’s hoping we can find some—” Rose rubbed a scar on her wrist.
“How’s he doing?” Mercy glanced back at Billy-Ray who was wrapped in blankets in the bottom of the boat.
“Pace says he’s lucky, a bullet passed close to an artery in his leg. He reckons there’s still a fragment in there, close to the bone. It needs to come out. One thing’s for sure, it’s not coming out in this boat—”
“Roger that,” Mercy nodded, returning her attention to the shore.
Night deepened around them. Pace reduced speed and kept within sight of land. The shoreline was dark with no sign of life. Mercy pulled her jacket collar up and huddled next to Flynn for warmth. He pressed his face into her hair and put his arms around her. She closed her eyes and emptied her head of the horror they had left behind. She focused on her breathing and blocked out the thoughts that were trying to invade her mind.
“Over there, that’s it,” Cronin shouted, four hours later. He pointed at a dock at the end of a beach, “Taskmakers Creek and Chesapeake Beach. We’re still in Virginia, just.”
All eyes went to the sandy beach. Pace drew into the shallow water just off the shore and idled the engines.
“Looks deserted,” Hicks said.
“OK… Billy-Ray’s house is somewhere in those trees. Pace, take us up to the dock, we’ll tie up and see if we can find the fuel stash.”
They secured the boat to the dock and went ashore. Pace carried Billy-Ray who groaned as he was moved. Cronin led the way through the trees, his rifle at the ready. The breeze rustled through the trees, the smell of damp earth hung heavy in the air.
Oak and maple… like Central Park—
Mercy inhaled the forest’s scent, searching for any hint of corruption.
Nothing—
A boarded up house loomed out of the darkness. Cronin held his hand up and went forwards to explore with Hicks. They vanished around the back of the house and appeared a few minutes later.
“Looks deserted, we’ll get the door open. Mercy? Rose? Tawny? You guys want to give it the once over?” Cronin asked.
Mercy nodded.
Fifteen minutes later they were inside and settling in.
Pace approached Mercy, Rose and Flynn. “Looks like it was a holiday rental, back in the day. At least, that was the front the cartel must’ve been using. Good news is, there’s fuel in the garage, bad news is Billy-Ray’s not going to make it unless we can get that bullet fragment out of his leg and I can’t do that without surgical instruments… and he’ll need antibiotics and painkillers if he’s to have a chance. So, basically he’s a dead man—”
Cronin walked over. “We’ll need to rest up here, everyone’s wasted. On the plus side Tawny’s found some food in the basement. There’s a boathouse in a creek to the side of the property. We’ll hide the RIB in there in case the NSA do an aerial search by day.”
“Over here,” Flynn tapped a tourist map pinned to the back of the kitchen door. “Here… it says there’s a vet clinic a few miles down the road. You might get surgical stuff there—”
“And antibiotics,” Rose added.
Mercy looked at Rose.
Rose nodded, “There’s a dirt bike in the garage, tires are flat but there’s a foot pump—”
Mercy stared at Cronin then Pace, “Well, I guess we’re going to look for medical supplies—”
After a meal of tinned tuna and chicken broth Mercy and Rose went to the garage with Pace.
Pace pumped up the dirt bike tires and gave the machine the once over. “It looks good, there’s enough fuel in the tank so you should be OK. Get me a disposable surgical instrument pack and antibiotics… anything… like cipro. Here, I’ve written a list—” Pace gave a sheet of paper to Mercy. “And painkillers; oxycodone, morphine… anything. He’s going to need it—”
Mercy read the list and nodded.
Rose grunted, “Come on, let’s go, the sooner we get this done the sooner we’re back.”
They climbed on the dirt bike. Mercy started the engine, wincing at the noise. She tightened the M4 carbine sling across her chest then engaged gear and pulled away from the garage.
It’s just three miles to the clinic, six miles round trip. It’ll save time and anyway we’ve got the biotech. It’ll be fine—
Pace watched them moving down the potholed road. He shook his head, “Good luck. If anyone can do it, it’s you—” he closed the garage door and retreated into the house.
Mercy followed the road as it wound through the trees, she navigated the damaged tarmac with care. Tree roots had dented and buckled the road surface. Weeds were bursting out of innumerable cracks and fissures. She kept her eyes ahead, trusting Rose to watch the forest. Eight minutes later they pulled up outside a battered looking building. A sign stating VETERINARY CLINIC was propped up against the wall. Painted words had been stencilled on the outside wall: MEDICAL FACILITY FEMA 26119 Va.
“Looks as if the government repurposed the vet clinic… used it for people,” Rose said, unease in her voice.
Mercy switched off the engine and watched the building and trees, listening. Wind sighed through the branches, the bike’s engine made a soft ticking as it cooled. Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, Mercy dismounted and propped the bike on its stand. Rose stood beside her, gun at the ready.
“Are those bodies?” Rose squinted at shapes wrapped in stained muslin stacked along a side wall. Grass and ivy covered most of the pile.
“Yeah, this dates back to the Fall. Looks like they ran out of body bags—” Mercy replied.
“Shit… dust to dust, right there, feeding the plants. That’s what it boils down to, we’re all fertiliser in the end—” Rose spat on the ground.
“Jesus, Rose. Cheerful thought,” Mercy said. “Head torches on. Let’s go—�
�
They approached the shattered glass doors and peered inside the reception area. The interior of the building was dark. Medical equipment lay smashed and broken. Empty shell casings littered the floor, the walls were pockmarked with bullet holes and stained with streaks of old blood. Mercy stepped over the broken glass and stood in the reception area allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Rose tapped her on the arm and pointed to a sign on the far wall: PHARMACY. Mercy nodded, they went down the corridor and found a locked door at the end. The door was battered but intact, a pale rectangular area was visible on the door’s surface.
“Someone’s removed the sign, this must be it,” Mercy tried the handle. “That’s a shotgun job,” she turned to Rose. “Blast it—”
Rose pulled a face, “Noisy, what about a window?”
Mercy held up a hand and went to the end of the corridor and opened the fire escape door. She peered into the car park behind the building then stepped out and looked at the rear of the clinic. She shook her head and returned to Rose. “No good, the window is barred.”
“Shotgun it is then,” Rose unslung the Winchester.
Three slug rounds later the lock gave way and the door swung open. Mercy entered the room, silenced SIG in hand. Rose kept watch on the corridor. Mercy scanned the room, boxes of drugs lined the shelves, she squinted at the labels perplexed at the drug names.
Wait, they’re ordered alphabetically—
She returned to the beginning of the line of drugs.
C… C…ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin, penicillin, that’ll do—
She swept the boxes into her backpack and went in search of painkillers.
Morphine, MST, oxycontin, gotcha—
Mercy nodded to Rose and they left the pharmacy returning the way they had come. Mercy stopped in the reception area and glanced around, daylight beckoned from the entrance.
“We need surgical instruments,” Rose whispered.
“Yeah, I know—” Mercy pulled a face and scanned the doors and walls for clues.
“Down that corridor, see the double doors, looks like there’s a sign there, we should check it out—” Rose pointed ahead.
Fear Mercy Page 24
