At least some of the lights are working—
She pressed on and reached the end of the tunnel ten minutes later. The chamber and open seam lay ahead. The other slaves pressed in around her, their manacles rattling in the gloom. The guards and gangmaster brought up the rear.
“Right then, you all know what to do, get moving and no slacking or else you’ll feel the bite of my whip,” the gangmaster shoved the prisoners towards the seam.
One of the guards broke off to light additional storm lanterns, the other guards spread out to watch the workers. Mercy set down her lantern and went over to the seam nearest the escape passage. She picked up a hammer and chisel and looked back. Amber was behind her, holding a hammer. Jay and the others were there, starting work close by.
Guards are still settling in. They won’t be expecting any problems. Go, now—
Mercy gave Amber a look and shuffled towards the escape passage.
Come on Amber, you’ve got the candles—
Mercy plunged into the mouth of the tunnel and pushed on, feeling her way. The passage was wide enough for one person. Her leg irons rattled dully in the dark. She wrinkled her nose, the familiar stench of putrefying flesh filled her nostrils. Footsteps and shuffling came from behind. Mercy swore.
Come on Amber, I need light—
A corner. Her hands against wet rock.
Easy, easy, ease your way—
Mercy crept around the corner. Movement ahead.
A scrape, a flicker, candlelight came from behind. Mercy froze. Six emaciated tropes occupied the tunnel ahead, they turned to face her. They were tethered to the wall by leg irons. Their hands however, were free. They reached out, clawing the air, their teeth snapping and grinding. Mercy counted.
Six… or seven? Jesus, it’s a fucking meat grinder. They smell Amber and the others. Get on with it—
Mercy stepped up to the first trope who ignored her, its eyes were on Amber.
Biotech’s working on these ones. I’ll lose my protection the minute I attack this one. Here goes—
Mercy placed the chisel in the centre of the first trope’s forehead and bashed it with the hammer. The chisel blade sliced through bone and brain and the trope dropped to the ground, unmoving. The others became more animated, switching their attention to Mercy. She moved to the next trope in line; a woman with long matted hair and blackened teeth.
Just use the chisel, it’ll be quicker—
The trope grabbed at Mercy’s shirt, its nails raking her skin with surprising strength. Mercy plunged the chisel into the thing’s eye socket, feeling the blade burst through the thin layer of bone at the back. The trope jerked once before sinking to the ground.
Shouts from behind.
They’re onto us, dammit—
Mercy crouched down and pulled the chisel from the trope’s skull. The third trope took a swipe at her but missed. Mercy sprang up and stabbed the trope, driving the chisel up through the roof of its mouth into its brain. The thing clawed at her face and neck. Mercy closed her eyes and twisted the chisel, the trope collapsed as if a switch had been thrown. Its body fell into a shallow pool of water at Mercy’s feet.
More shouts. A scream. Amber pushed into Mercy from behind. Mercy staggered forwards almost into the arms of the fourth trope. She regained her balance and pulled back just as the thing snapped at her face. A whoosh above. Light, then sudden heat.
The oil lamp, thrown from behind, smashed against the wall behind the fourth trope sending tongues of flaming oil in all directions. The trope caught fire and flames filled the confined space.
Shit—
Mercy took a step back, knocking into Amber. The burning trope was undaunted by the flames, it strained at its chains, trying to reach Mercy and Amber.
They’re using the oil lamps as Molotovs—
Mercy’s mind raced—
Ram it with the body of the last one. Knock it down. Use the body as a battering ram and a bridge over the flames—
Mercy turned to Amber, “Help me free this dead one, we’ll use it to ram this bastard—”
More shouts from behind. Jay’s face loomed out of the shadows. “What’s the hold up? We’re dying back here—”
“Working on it—” Mercy replied.
She knelt down beside Amber who was trying to break the dead trope’s leg irons with her hammer.
Mercy shook her head. “No, like this—”
Mercy placed her chisel on the trope’s ankle joint and struck it with her hammer, severing its foot in two blows. She did the same for the other foot. The leg irons slipped away and they lifted the body from the pool of water.
“Amber, with me—” Mercy ordered.
They pushed forwards using the wet corpse as a battering ram, slamming it into the flaming trope. It toppled over, still clawing at the air. Mercy dropped the soaking corpse on top of the flailing trope and stepped onto it, jumping to the far side.
The fifth trope lurched forwards and reached for Mercy but was stopped by its chains. Mercy used her momentum, dropped low and struck its knee joint with her hammer. The trope’s leg snapped and it fell backwards in a heap. She finished it off with a blow to the head.
“Fire in the hole,” a shout from behind.
Amber screamed. Mercy looked back. Something heavy thudded to the ground near the flaming trope.
Mercy shouted, “Get down—” she dropped to the ground, covered her ears and closed her eyes. A loud bang and bright flash seemed to explode inside her skull.
Oh—
Ringing. Searing. Pain. Distant shouts. Pistol shots. A scream.
Flash bang not a frag. I’m… I’m still alive—
Mercy’s mind raced out to her body, checking for damage. Weak light came from a few dying flames on one of the trope bodies further back.
Get up—
She stood and looked back towards Amber. A figure cringed on the floor.
Go get her—
Mercy stepped across a partially burning trope corpse and reached Amber.
“Come on girl, this is it—” Mercy pulled Amber up and helped her forwards.
Jay and Tori’s faces appeared in the gloom behind. The distant shouting resumed. They lurched forwards, picking their way through the corpses. Alexander and Willow came next.
Mercy pushed ahead further down the passage. “Amber, the other candle, I can’t see. Quick, light it—”
Amber searched her pockets for the candle and matches. Something touched Mercy’s face then a bony hand grabbed her neck. Mercy swore and blindly threw herself forwards rolling head over heels across the fifth trope. Its teeth snapped at her hair. She reached down and gripped its head and twisted. A sickening crunch followed as the trope’s neck snapped like a broken twig.
Come on Amber, come on, come on—
“Found them,” Amber said.
A scrape, then cursing. “Shit. Sorry. I dropped the fucking matches—”
Christ. Sorry doesn’t cut it Amber—
Hands searching. Scrabbling.
“Got one,” Mercy pressed the match into Amber’s hand.
One second, two seconds, three. A scrape, a flicker. Light.
“Quick, Amber, on me, there’s one more to go,” Mercy shouted.
They stood up and turned to face the final chained trope. It was a child, six or seven years old, unrecognisable as a boy or girl. Its facial skin had rotted, revealing bone and putrid muscles underneath.
Don’t think, just do it—
Mercy plucked the chisel from her pocket and smashed it into the top of the trope’s head. The trope child collapsed at her feet.
“They’re coming—”
Jay and Tori pushed forwards followed by Alexander and Willow.
“Jordan’s dead—” Alexander breathed, as he edged by, a bloody pick axe in his hand.
Mercy looked back and saw movement in the passageway. A Kindred emerged from the dark, torch in hand. Mercy frowned.
He’s wearing a gas mask—
&
nbsp; The Kindred threw something over the trope bodies towards Mercy.
Fuck—
Mercy turned and pushed Amber after the others. “Gas, gas, gas—”
The canister bounced off the ceiling and struck Mercy’s back. She shoved Amber further up the passageway and held her breath.
Bloody leg irons—
Mercy floundered in the narrow passage. She closed her eyes, dropped to the ground and crawled after Amber in the dark.
No light. Gas. Christ. Don’t breathe—
Mercy’s fingers touched Amber’s boots.
She’s crawling too—
Coughing, tears. Streaming eyes, streaming, nose, choking.
My chest, god—
Mercy pressed on, her eyes closed, her fingers feeling the way over the cold, wet floor. Two pistol shots from behind. Rounds whizzed overhead.
A corner. Keep going—
Seconds turned to minutes. Choking, coughing, spitting.
Where are the others? They’ve gone on—
Boots scraping ahead.
Breathe—
A scratch. A flicker, candlelight.
“We’ve lost the others,” Amber’s voice, small, broken.
“No, we haven’t, they’re just in front of us, keep going. Keep the candle lit so they know it’s us—” Mercy replied.
Shouts from behind. Footsteps. Another shot.
Close—
Then, a figure looming ahead.
Alexander—
Alexander reached out, helping Amber to her feet, he pushed her on. He took Mercy’s hand and lifted her up.
“The others are ahead, go on. This is a weak section, this prop is ready to go. I’m going to bring it down with the pick axe. I’m nearly there. Go on, get out of here—” Alexander put his hand in the small of Mercy’s back and pushed her along the tunnel after Amber.
Mercy staggered on, her concentration fixed on breathing and moving. Voices and a flickering light ahead. Shouts and shots from behind.
Keep on, there they are, Amber and the others—
A loud crash erupted from behind. The ground shook and the walls moved. The ceiling collapsed.
Dust and darkness.
Chapter 21
Ascent
“Hang on,” a voice in the dark.
Hands. Rubble. Dust.
Mercy coughed. The sound was dead, flat. Her lungs were on fire. Hands pulled her forwards. Pain wacked her chest. Wheezing.
“I’ve found one,” another voice.
Breathing, dry throat. Mercy spat out a mouthful of dust. A scratch, a flickering flame. Four faces sprang out of the darkness.
Amber, Jay, Tori… Willow—
“Where’s Alexander and Jordan?” Mercy croaked.
Tori looked away.
Willow’s voice filled the confined space, “Jordan was at the back, he bought us time… the Kindred got him. Alexander collapsed the tunnel behind, he didn’t make it—”
And then there were five—
“Christ—” Mercy said.
Willow raised the candle, “Yeah, Christ—”
Jay sat against the tunnel wall, “They knew the risks, they bought us this chance. Come on let’s see where this leads, we owe it to them to get out of here—”
Jay’s words cut through the mood.
Willow handed him the candle, “Yeah, whatever. Here, take this.”
Jay grunted, “Everyone good to go?”
Amber and Tori nodded.
Mercy took a deep breath and coughed again. She held up a hand, “Yeah, fine, just got a lungful of dust. Let’s go—”
Jay rose to his feet and started picking his way through the rubble towards the undamaged section of the passage. They moved with care for twenty minutes then Jay stopped. “This is no use, we’ve got to get these leg irons off. Anyone got tools?”
Mercy’s hand went to her belt, “Yeah, got my chisel—”
Amber waved her hammer, “Got this—”
“OK, let’s see if we can remove these chains,” Jay sat down and waved at Mercy and Amber.
Mercy placed the mining chisel at the centre of her leg irons. She looked at Amber, “Hit it and don’t miss, I wanna keep my hand.”
Amber took aim and hammered the chisel three times. The chain burst open on the final blow.
“Free,” Mercy said. She passed the chisel to the others.
Twenty minutes later everyone had split their leg irons. Jay held the candle up and moved along the tunnel. The temperature dropped after another five minutes and the tunnel joined a large cavern. They entered the cavern sidling in around Jay. He walked forwards holding the candle up. A rockfall had blocked the far side of the cavern.
Jay pointed up, “Check that out—”
A raised railway track passed ten feet overhead. Support beams lined the cavern.
“We need to get up there, it’s a dead end down here but those tracks must lead somewhere,” Willow said.
“The tracks are ancient, it looks dodgy—” Amber declared.
“No choice,” Mercy replied. “Grab a plank or something, me and Jay will lift you up. See… there’s loose wire tangled on the tracks, pass it down to us, we can use it to climb up the cavern wall—”
Amber looked up at the tracks, “Let’s give it a try.”
Jay found a piece of wood on the cavern floor. They used it to lift Amber up. She scrambled onto the rusting railway tracks which creaked under her weight. Mercy and Jay passed the lit candle up to her. Amber untangled a length of electric cabling, secured one end and passed the rest down. Tori tested the cabling and used it to climb the cavern wall. Fifteen minutes later they were all sitting on the raised tracks.
“We need to keep moving,” Jay said, “this candle’s not gonna last forever.”
“Which way? Straight on or back along the tracks?” Willow asked.
“Look,” Tori pointed at the candle.
The flame fluttered in Jay’s hand.
“A breeze, it’s coming from up ahead—” Mercy said.
“Ahead it is then,” Willow declared.
Jay nodded and moved forwards. They followed the tracks and entered a narrow tunnel. The candle continued to flutter as they made progress. Five minutes later Jay held up a hand and stopped. The others crowded around him and looked over his shoulder.
“Another cavern, the tracks go over a drop—” Jay said.
“What’s that sound?” Tori asked.
“Water, sounds a long way down,” Jay replied. He picked up a rock and dropped it into the new cavern. A few seconds later the sound of a splash reached them.
“Shit—” Tori said.
“That’s a hell of a ways down,” Willow whispered.
“What state are the tracks in?” Amber asked. “We could crawl across, one at a time—”
“The sleepers have rotted away, it’s mostly just track,” Jay said. “Look, on the ground here, there’s plenty of shoring timber, some of it’s still OK. I’ll use a piece to slide across the tracks on my front, if the tracks hold you guys can follow—”
“Shit Jay, we don’t know if it’s safe—” Willow protested.
“We ain’t got a choice and this candle’s gonna burn out soon, so I’m going across—” Jay selected a piece of wood from the pile and dropped to his knees. He placed the plank across the tracks and lay on it, candle in one hand.
“OK, here goes nothing,” Jay started using his hands to pull himself across the gap.
The tracks creaked in protest but they held. Jay reached the far side of the chamber and pulled himself up. “OK, who’s next? It’ll hold—” he shouted.
They each selected a length of wood from the pile and took turns in crossing the divide. Thirty minutes later they were all across. The air was fresher and the breeze stronger in the new section of tunnel. They pressed on, Jay in the lead and Mercy taking up the rear.
Will the Kindred continue to search for us? Or will they write us off—?
Mercy allowed h
er thoughts to wander in the semi-darkness. They continued their slow pace for another twenty minutes, the breeze enticing them on.
At least the air’s clearer here. No… they’ll have written us off, we’re dead to them—
Amber stopped in front of Mercy.
“What is it?” Mercy asked.
“Don’t know, I can’t see,” Amber replied.
Willow’s face appeared beside Amber, “It’s a cave, Jay’s found a cave—”
They filed into the open space and peered into the darkness. The candle spluttered, on its last legs.
“OK everyone, search this place for anything useful. We’ve not got long with this candle, be careful, no injuries. Try and find where the breeze is coming from—” Jay moved to the far side of the cavern.
The tracks ended in the centre of the cavern, a battered metal cart stood forlorn at the end. They combed the area over the next few minutes. Their haul consisted of sixty feet of cabling, a rusted mining chisel and a pile of railroad spikes.
Amber was the last to return. “I think I’ve found where the breeze is coming from. Oh, and I found this—” she held up an old miner’s carbide lamp.
Jay took the lamp and shook it. He raised his eyebrows and placed the candle under the nozzle. Nothing happened. He crouched down and placed the lamp on the ground. He rotated a switch across the top of the lamp and placed the candle to the nozzle again. A small flame ignited.
“That’s amazing,” Willow said. “How long has that thing been down here? It looks like an antique.”
“Probably not that long,” Tori said, holding up an empty beer can. “Looks as if someone’s been down here fairly recently. Maybe the Kindred looking for more seams, or others, who knows—?”
“Good job, Amber—” Jay said. “At least we’ve got light. What about the breeze?”
“This way,” Amber led them to a corner of the cavern. She squeezed into a narrow cleft in the rock and pushed forwards.
They followed her down a short passage and emerged at the bottom of a narrow shaft. A cold draft came from above. Jay lifted the carbide lamp and examined the space. “Some kind of ventilation shaft maybe or an emergency exit?”
“Look up there,” Mercy said. “Holds dug into the rock; hand holds, foot holds—”
“But we must be at least three hundred feet underground, judging from the time it takes to get down here in the lift—” Willow said.
The Survival Chronicles (Book 6): Dark Mercy Page 14
