Rose blasted the padlock. It shattered with the second slug. They piled through the inner gates and slammed them shut. Mercy slid the gate bolts home. Rose stepped in with the fire axe and jammed its handle between the two gates. Seconds later the lead tropes reached the gates pushing against them. The bolts and fire axe held.
“That ought to work for a bit—” Rose said, stepping back.
They turned to see Rick standing outside the camp, the outer gate open. “It was unlocked,” he shouted. “Come on—”
Mercy and Rose ran through the outer gate bolting it behind them.
“Follow me,” Mercy barked at Rick, she entered the forest, leading the way.
Twenty minutes later they were back at the veterinary clinic. Rick’s wife stepped out from behind the SUV, tears of joy in her eyes. Rick held his wife and daughter close, hugging them tightly.
Rick turned to Mercy and Rose, “I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve saved my family. We’ve got nothing to give you—”
Rick’s wife touched his arm, “Rick, they’re going to D.C.—”
Rick’s face changed, he looked at Mercy and Rose in disbelief, “You’re going to D.C.?”
Mercy nodded, “Yeah, we need to reach someone in the city centre.” She glanced back the way they had come. “Look, you should get away from here. The camp gates will probably hold but there could be more of those alphas… fast tropes—”
Rick nodded, “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked at his wife, hesitating, “Look, I used to work for the Fire Department in D.C. Me and my family… we barely got out. The NSA has two security perimeters around the city. Inner and outer. Outer is boarded by the rivers; the Potomac to the west and the Anacostia to the east. The Whitehouse and The Mall are surrounded by a concrete wall, there’s wire, searchlights, minefields, drone patrols… you name it. The outer perimeter is the rivers plus ditches, ramps, fences, wire, flamethrowers. It’s keeping the tropes out, only just though. They’re converging on the city from all over, tens of thousands of them, more arriving every day. Most are wasted like those back in the camp there but there’s also those other ones, the fast ones, the alphas you said. They’re appearing from somewhere—”
Rick’s wife nudged him, “Tell them about the route we took—”
Rick nodded, “Yeah, sorry, look, you might be able to get into the city the way we got out. The NSA were using the D.C. Metro Subway to run supplies and get people in and out of the city undetected by the tropes. That was in the early days. Now they’ve blocked off all metro tunnels except the blue line which runs from east to west. There’s Fire Department access hatches to all the tunnels, there’s one that they missed because it’s not on the plans. It was sealed up a long time ago as part of an upgrade but I was able to get it open. It’s at the Capitol Heights metro station inside a small electrical substation just to the north. I broke the lock on the door to the old fire access tunnel. If you can find it, it’ll take you to the Stadium-Armory Station just to the west of the Anacostia River. That’ll get you inside the outer perimeter. The blue line is patrolled by NSA but there’s a series of maintenance bays to hide in—”
Mercy absorbed the information. “Thanks, good to know Rick. Look, we’ve gotta go, someone needs us.” She looked at the rain clouds above, “Get away from here, stay under the radar, be safe—”
Rose wheeled the dirt bike out from behind the SUV and started the engine.
“Good luck with whatever you’ve gotta do,” Rick said, holding out his hand.
Mercy shook his hand, “Glad you… we… all made it.” She climbed onto the bike behind Rose and closed her eyes as the engine roared.
Billy-Ray could be dead because of this delay. He could be dead, you’ve gambled with another life. But… it was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?
Rose sped back to the cabin ditching the bike half a mile out.
“We’ll walk the last bit, don’t want to lead any tropes to the others,” Rose said.
More delay—
Mercy kept her thoughts to herself but went along with Rose’s instinct.
A person’s life is just so many grains of sand in an hour glass and the hour glass only gets so many turns, then it’s all over. What’s a few grains of sand here or there?
The cabin came into view and they quickened their pace. Cronin stepped out from the front door to greet them.
“Did you get it?” Cronin said, without preamble.
Mercy handed him her bag, “Yes, I think so. You should find everything in there—”
Cronin took the pack, “Get some food and rest up, you look… tired.”
I feel… dead—
Mercy stared at Rose. Rose’s eyes were red and inflamed.
Rose grunted, “I’ve got a splitting headache, think I need to rehydrate—”
Mercy nodded, “I feel like twenty kilos of shit in a ten kilo bag—”
“You’re shitting me,” Rose replied, a wry smile on her face.
“I shit you not,” Mercy fired back.
Pace worked on Billy-Ray on the kitchen table by candlelight, assisted by Tawny and Cronin. An hour later Pace entered the front room wiping his hands on a towel. Mercy looked up, her eyebrows raised.
Pace walked over to Mercy and Flynn, “Got the bullet fragment out… fragments, there were two. He’s lost quite a bit of blood. He’s lucky though, one of the fragments was touching an artery, a millimetre more and he would’ve bled out—”
“Is he going to make it?” Mercy asked.
Pace pulled a face, “Good question, I’d say it’s fifty-fifty. You’ve given him the best chance though. I’ve given him the cipro and painkillers. He needs to rest up for a couple of weeks. He should stay here, there’s food and water but he wants to come with us. Says he has to get to his daughter. Wants to speak to you. He’s doped up but still conscious, Cronin and Tawny are with him—”
Mercy looked at Flynn. Flynn shrugged.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Mercy went to the kitchen.
Billy-Ray was stretched out on the table, his left thigh bandaged. Bloodstained gauze pads and used surgical instruments lay on the kitchen dresser. Soft candlelight lit the room. Tawny was holding Billy-Ray’s hand, Cronin stood at the open back door smoking a cheroot. Fragrant cigar smoke filled the kitchen masking the smell of blood and flesh. Mercy gave Tawny a look.
Tawny gave a half-smile, “Pace turned the place upside down looking for medical equipment… and found cigars and brandy—”
“Not too shabby,” Mercy replied.
Billy-Ray stirred at the sound of her voice. He opened his eyes. “Mercy, you made it. Thanks for going out on a limb for me.” He smiled, giving a weak laugh, “Going out on a limb…” he gestured at his leg. “Funny turn of phrase that.” His eyes became unfocused, he reached out to Mercy. She took his hand, surprised at how strong his grip was.
Billy-Ray continued, “I know I’m loaded up with knockout drops but you’ve gotta listen to me. Are you listening—?”
Mercy nodded, “Sure Billy-Ray, I’m listening—”
Billy-Ray tightened his grip and lifted his head off the table, “I’m coming with you. To D.C., I’ve gotta get further north. I’m going to get to my daughter if it’s the last thing I do, don’t make me stay here—”
Mercy looked at Cronin then Tawny. The answer came easily. “Sure, Billy-Ray you can come with us. I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve gotta make it to your daughter and we’re the only ride in town, I get it—”
Cronin sighed at the door. Mercy looked up. Cronin turned his back and walked out into the night.
Billy-Ray relaxed his grip and lowered his head to the table. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Mercy relaxed her grip but he did not release her hand. Billy-Ray’s eyes flicked open once more. His voice dropped to a whisper. Mercy leant in.
“Promise me one thing, Mercy Dawes—” Billy-Ray breathed.
“Shoot,” Mercy replied.
Billy-Ray reached up to his breast
pocket and pulled out an envelope. “If I don’t make it, once you’ve finished your business in D.C. find my Annalise and give her this—”
Mercy took the envelope, “Sure thing Billy-Ray, you said she was like me. She can walk through tropes. Sounds like I need to meet her—”
But Billy-Ray was gone. Asleep on an opiate fuelled cloud. Mercy placed his hand back on the table and looked at the writing on the envelope: Annalise Young, Mission Home Road, Free Union, VA 22940.
I’ll find you Annalise Young, looks like we’ve got stories to share—
“OK everyone, time to move out,” Cronin went through the room, his boots loud on the hardwood floor.
Mercy checked her watch; 08:37 pm.
Yeah, that’s about right. Up and out at sunset… like vampires. Is it a coven of vampires… or a coven of witches—?
Mercy ran her fingers through her hair and tied it back, slipping her cap on. She shook Flynn who was snoring softly on the floor beside her. “Wake up sleepy head, reality demands your presence.” She yawned, took a swig of water and reached for her M4 carbine.
Flynn rubbed his face, “It can’t be time to go, we just lay down a few minutes ago—”
“You’ve had four hours sleep… luxury. Come on, suck it up, get your butt in gear—” Mercy ruffled Flynn’s hair.
The scrape of a chair and heavy footsteps came from the kitchen. Mercy looked up, surprised to see Hicks and Pace supporting Billy-Ray in the doorway. Billy-Ray’s face was ashen, his breathing laboured. The two SEALs helped him through the cabin and out towards the boathouse.
“That’s one tough sonofabitch,” Flynn murmured.
Fay and Rose’s voices drifted in from outside. Flynn stretched his shoulders, cracking his joints.
Rose stuck her head through the front door, a cigar in her hand, “Hey you two, shake a leg, we’re headed out. Maryland awaits, next stop Annapolis—”
Mercy’s face clouded at the name.
Flynn scratched his stubble, “You think she reckons that cigar makes her look badass?”
“Probably—” Mercy replied, the spell broken.
They passed the mouths of the Potomac and Patuxent Rivers and carried on up Chesapeake Bay. Pace kept the RIB at a steady speed, away from the shoreline.
Cronin tapped Mercy’s shoulder and nodded to the front of the boat. She went forwards with him, her eyes searching the darkness ahead for any sign of life. The boat’s prow sliced through the inky water.
Nothing, what if there’s nothing left? What if it’s already all over? We’ve been in a bubble since we left Constantine and the fleet—
Cronin sat down, Mercy joined him. Water spray speckled her face, a shooting star passed overhead.
“Billy-Ray has given Pace co-ordinates of a safe location where we can rest up—” Cronin said. He stared ahead.
“Where?” Mercy asked.
“A lighthouse; Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse. It’s built on piles screwed into the river bed about a mile and a half offshore… at the mouth of the South River. It’s ten klicks from downtown Annapolis. It was abandoned after the Fall, him and his buddies used it to get away from all the shit that was going down at the time. We can stop there, get our bearings, formulate a plan. You and me; we need to contact Constantine and Barnes using the sat phone—”
Mercy glanced at Cronin, “Yeah, but this sat phone isn’t encrypted like the ones we lost—”
Cronin shook his head, “Don’t worry, our comms will still go through the North Korean satellite. I’ll use a unit code that Barnes will recognise. He can relay our message to Constantine, to say we’re in position—”
“That’s if Barnes even has a sat phone—” Mercy said.
“Correct,” Cronin agreed, rubbing his stubble. “Do you trust Billy-Ray?”
“Reckon so, he’s got a chequered history, but don’t we all? I think he’s telling the truth about his daughter anyway—” Mercy’s breath misted in the cold air.
“Yeah, he wasn’t taking no for an answer, about coming with us—” Cronin said.
The boat’s engines slowed. Pace’s voice rose from behind, “Thomas Point Lighthouse… directly ahead.”
Mercy peered into the middle distance. A jumble of rocks rose from the bay two hundred yards away. Pace steered the RIB nearer, the clouds parted allowing moonlight to spill over the bay. Mercy’s eyes widened at the sight of the one and a half storey, hexagonal, lighthouse resting on its platform.
Mercy shivered.
Ten kilometres from Annapolis. We’re so close. This is real—
Chapter 38
Perdition
They watched the lighthouse for any sign of life. Satisfied, Cronin gave Pace the order to moor under the lighthouse. Rusting steps led up to a platform beneath the wooden building. Cronin and Hicks climbed the access ladder and did a sweep. They appeared at the hatch after a few minutes and gave the all clear. Fifteen minutes later everyone was inside. A row of faded lifejackets hung on one of the walls.
“OK, listen up everyone, usual drill. Weapons check, food and rest. We’ll set up a watch… we’re one and a half miles from the coast,” Cronin said. He glanced at a window, “When daylight comes you’ll be able to see land from here. The NSA are just across the water, we’re ten klicks from Annapolis and fifty klicks, give or take, to D.C.” he let his words sink in before looking at Mercy. “Mercy, a word—”
Mercy followed Cronin up the stairs to the top of the lighthouse. Mercy climbed up into the lantern room and stared at the grimy Fresnel lenses surrounding the dead lamp.
Cronin pulled out the satellite phone and stepped outside onto the lantern gallery. “You ready to give this thing a try?”
“Go for it,” Mercy joined him, her mind and body laced with fatigue.
Cronin switched on the satellite phone and extended the antenna. He changed position on the gallery and checked his watch, “OK we’re in the ballpark, timing’s about right. He dialled a number and pressed the phone to his ear. A few seconds later he started talking.
“Spartan one alpha, Spartan one alpha this is Diamond five six over,” Cronin paused, then continued, “Copy that. Affirmative, awaiting reroute, over.”
Cronin closed his eyes. A few seconds later he nodded, “Understood, encryption confirmed, proceed, over.” He listened, “Copy that,” he looked at his watch. “Hold on, I’ll hand you over, she’s here—” Cronin handed the satellite phone to Mercy.
Mercy raised her eyebrows and took the phone.
“It’s Barnes, talk to him, he needs to hear your voice, you need to hear his, say something… anything—” Cronin pulled out some paper and a pencil stub from his top pocket and started writing.
Mercy pressed the phone to her ear. Static hissed in the earpiece.
“So… you there or what—?” a voice drawled at the other end.
Mercy nodded and answered, “Yes, I’m here Barnes. Good to… finally talk—” her mind went blank.
“How are you?” Barnes’s disembodied voice came out of the ether.
“I’m… still breathing,” Mercy replied.
“Still breathing, huh? I can work with that. Tell me something random, shoot the breeze; say the first thing that comes into your head—”
Mercy looked up at the stars, “I want to see the Grand Canyon one day and Joshua Tree National Park… I read about them in National Geographic. The pictures looked… amazing—”
The phone line crackled.
“Barnes? Barnes? You still there?” Mercy asked, her hand tightening around the phone.
“Yeah, I’m still here girl. I was just thinking… one day I’d like to do Route 66 on a big, badass Harley. How does that sound?”
Mercy felt herself smiling, “That sounds good Barnes, real good.”
“It’s important to hang on to stuff like that, dreams get us through.” Barnes’s voice hardened, “Good talkin’ to you, now hand me back to the LT—”
Cronin took the handset and listened for a few secon
ds before nodding and ending the call. “Well… against the odds, we have our man. He gave the correct safe code so he’s not in enemy hands. We have a rendezvous with Barnes on the coast tonight.” He handed Mercy the piece of paper.
Mercy read Cronin’s scrawl: 2110 DOUGLASS AVENUE, HIGHLAND BEACH, JUST NORTH OF OYSTER HARBOR, 0:500 HOURS. She checked her watch, “That’s in… four hours—”
Cronin tapped the other side of the paper, “Barnes gave me some details. I’ve drawn a sketch of the area on the back. Memorise it and the address… just in case. We’ll leave here at 03:00 hours—” he put the satellite phone away. “Time to get some rest—”
Mercy nodded, “I’ll stay up here for a bit. I need to… clear my head—”
“I’ll see you with the others,” Cronin went inside, leaving Mercy on the gallery.
The Chesapeake Bay and South River stretched out before her. A chill breeze made her shiver. She read the address again and turned the paper over to examine the sketch map Cronin had drawn. A few minutes later footsteps made her turn.
Flynn stood in the narrow doorway, “Thought I’d keep you company.”
Mercy shoved the paper in her pocket and smiled. She held out a hand, Flynn took it, joining her at the railing. He put his arm around her waist and pressed his body close to hers. She could feel his warmth through his shirt. A sudden ache opened up inside her, she turned to face him.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Flynn looked into her eyes then brought his face close to hers. His breath was soft and hot on her skin. He pressed his lips to hers, she opened her mouth meeting his eager tongue, losing herself in the moment. A distant noise broke the spell. Mercy opened her eyes and glanced over Flynn’s shoulder. A large flash lit up the eastern sky. Flynn turned to look. Several more flashes followed, accompanied by a far off rumbling.
“Constantine’s forces—?” Flynn’s question hung in the air.
Mercy looked to the west, her eyes narrowed. “Is that—?”
Flynn’s fingers tightened on her arm, “It’s light, coming from D.C.—”
Fear Mercy Page 26
