“Three hundred feet—?” Tori echoed, her voice small in the narrow shaft.
“Whatever,” Mercy said, this is our way out, it’s our best shot. She looked at the others. “I’m going up. Here… give me the cabling, one of them spikes and the hammer.”
Amber handed over her hammer, “I don’t know Mercy, we’re all pretty beat up, including you. Maybe we should rest first.”
“I know,” Mercy said, “but we’ve got no food, we’re getting weaker. It’s gonna hit us hard and real soon. I’m running on adrenaline at the moment, best to capitalize on it. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be careful. Listen, find some wood, I’ll try and make a platform. When I get up there I’ll drape the cable over the spike and you can tie the wood to the end and haul it up to me—”
Jay grunted, smiling, “On it.” He retreated down the passage with the spluttering candle leaving the others with the carbide lamp.
Mercy took the hammer and the railroad spike. She tied the cabling to her belt and started climbing. The handholds were generous and downward sloping, giving maximum grip.
These old timers knew what they were doing—
Drips of cold water spattered her head as she climbed. The rock was covered in slime. The light from the carbide lamp below faded as she climbed. She counted the handholds and stopped her ascent at thirty.
Probably close to thirty feet. If I get the spike in the rock here it’ll act as a piton. I can drape the cable across it, then I can haul the wood up and make a sort of platform—
Mercy felt the rock for cracks. She found a fault line and jammed the rail spike in. She took the hammer from her belt and with one hand, started tapping the spike deeper into the fault. She stopped and tested it.
Good enough—
She draped the cabling across the spike and clung to the hand holds, her breath rattling in her chest. Fatigue washed over her and she shuddered.
Keep it together, just a little longer, this will keep morale up, this one thing—
“Ready,” she shouted to the others below.
Mercy waited a few minutes with her eyes closed, resting. The cabling started moving on the spike beside her.
Come on guys, you can do it—
Slowly, the cabling moved in jerking movements as the others hauled the planking up to her. Ten minutes later she heard scraping, she turned her head and reached down.
It’s here—
“Stop,” she yelled, her voice filling the narrow space.
The cabling stopped moving. Mercy grasped the wood with one hand and guided it across the shaft. She inserted one end of the plank into a foothold and jammed the other end diagonally against the opposite wall.
A staging platform of sorts, it’ll have to do. Get down now, before you fall—
Mercy untied the end of the cabling from the plank and dropped it down the shaft. Her hands shook as she descended the shaft in the semi-darkness.
Take your time, no mistakes, go slow—
She made it to the bottom ten minutes later, collapsing into Jay’s arms.
“That’s enough Mercy, you’ll kill yourself. We need to rest now, all of us. We can sleep in the passageway. It’s narrow enough to defend against any random tropes. A few hours rest will help us all—” Willow’s voice echoed around the shaft.
Mercy started shivering, “Yeah, it’s cold, I’m done. Rest sounds good—”
They pressed together for warmth. Sleep was fitful. Damp and cold invaded their muscles and bones. Mercy sat on the wet floor, her back against the cold wall with Tori on one side and Amber on the other. They shivered in silence. She closed her eyes and dreamt of food and the sun on her skin.
Flynn, where are you? I wish you were here… holding me close—
Movement. A breath.
Amber pulled away, crawling back to the shaft on the right. Mercy blinked and watched Amber.
Tori stirred beside Mercy, “Look… that’s light, daylight, in the shaft—”
Mercy tried to stand, her body screamed in pain. She took a deep breath, rolled onto her side and crawled after Amber. Hunger bored through her, her stomach cramped. She reached Amber and collapsed on the shaft floor.
“It’s beautiful,” Amber whispered.
Mercy rolled onto her back and stared at the sky at the top of the shaft.
“Good morning, Amber,” Mercy whispered.
“Good morning Mercy,” Amber replied. “It’s a new day—”
We can do it—
Mercy forced herself upright and stretched her muscles. The others emerged from the passage beside her.
“We do this now. I’ll go up, we’ll do it in stages. We’ll use the plank up there as a platform to rest on. The cabling is sixty feet long. I’ll keep hammering in spikes at thirty foot intervals, we can use the cabling to haul the plank up as we go. We’ll take it in stages. We’ll take our time and go slowly. No one falls, understood—?” Mercy looked at everyone in turn.
A fall would be a death sentence—
Silence.
Jay cleared his throat, “I’ll second you Mercy. I can raise the plank with you and the others can follow when we move on to the next stage—”
“We might be able to move the plank a few more times but probably not the whole way. We’ll have to see how it goes—” Mercy said.
“Agreed,” Jay replied.
Amber held up a railroad spike and the hammer, “But first we remove the rest of these leg irons—”
“I second that,” Willow sat down and spread her chains out over a rock.
Half an hour later they were ready. Mercy started climbing up the shaft. She focused on the rock in front of her. She stared at the handholds and the grain of the rock. Her life became her senses; the roughness of the rock beneath her fingertips, the cold of the dripping water, the pale shimmer of light filtering down from above. Each breath rasped in her ears against the steady drumbeat of her heart.
Time became meaningless. Pain wracked her body, every movement was stiff and awkward. Her will drove her onwards; pushing and punishing her body. They climbed in stages. With Jay’s help she managed, to haul the platform up twice.
Ninety feet up, two hundred and ten feet to go. I can’t lift that plank again—
She gave Jay a look and shook her head after securing the plank for the second time.
“Yeah, me too, I’m done with that thing,” Jay said.
“So it’s free climbing for us now—” Mercy’s voice was hoarse.
A look passed between them.
Do or die—
“I’ll tell the others,” Jay said, pressing his forehead against the wall.
“Keep on keeping on,” Mercy said, “no turning back, see you up there.”
“Damn right,” Jay whispered.
Two hundred and ten feet, Jesus. Thank goodness these miners knew what they were doing, these handholds are the real deal—
Mercy focused on her hands and feet, never having less than three points of contact with the shaft wall. The light strengthened and the rock became wetter as she gained height.
Slow, down. There’s no rush—
Pain gripped her arms and her legs shook. Mercy swore her way up the last fifty feet. She raised her face to the light, her eyes dull. The surface was a foot above, she reached up and placed a hand over the top. The last foothold allowed her to step up and clamber over the edge onto the damp grass. She pressed her face into the dirt and inhaled the smell of damp earth and rain.
Mercy lay there for ten minutes hugging the ground, allowing the pain to ease. Her breathing and heartbeat settled. She became aware of the sounds of the forest; wind sighing through the trees, birds calling from the branches.
I’m here, I’m alive. The others… get up, guide them, help them—
Mercy sat up and scanned the small clearing. Long grass and brambles choked the space. She spotted rusty mining equipment in the undergrowth. She pulled the grass and weeds away from a small mound. A large sinking bucket lay on its
side, complete with chain. Mercy stared at the bucket, calculating.
Jay’s arm emerged from the shaft followed by a string of expletives. Mercy rushed over to help him out. He lay wheezing on the ground for five minutes before rolling over, his eyes squinting at the grey sky. He frowned, the sweat drying on his grime-streaked face. “Thought I’d never get out of that bastard hole—”
“You made it, just take it in, allow your muscles to recover. The others, I’m not sure they’ll be able to make that last stretch. I think we can help them though—” Mercy replied.
Jay staggered to his feet.
Mercy showed him the sinking bucket, “We could lower that over the side, down to them and haul them up one by one. Whoever comes up first can help us pull the others up. Should get easier with more people—”
Jay nodded, “Let’s get this fucker into action. There would’ve been some kind of winch originally but it’s rotted away. We’ll have to find a branch to pull on, we’ll tie the chain to it and drop the bucket down to them. I’ll find us something, see if you can shout down to them—”
Twenty minutes later they were lowering the bucket to the others a hundred and fifty feet below.
“Stop—” Tori’s voice echoed up from below.
“This is it Jay,” Mercy said. “You ready?”
Jay spat on his hands and grabbed one end of the thick branch. “Ready enough, let’s do it.”
Mercy shouted down to Tori, “Get ready.”
Tori’s voice drifted up from the shaft, “Ready—”
Mercy grabbed the other end of the branch and pulled alongside Jay. They hauled on the chain, their feet digging into the damp grass. Mercy focused on her feet, each step burned her muscles, her heart pounded, her chest heaved.
“Count, count dammit. It’ll keep us synched—” Jay gasped.
Twenty agonising minutes later Tori appeared at the shaft opening and rolled out of the bucket onto solid ground. Ten minutes later the three of them began hauling Amber up. Fifteen minutes later Amber lay recovering on the ground beside the shaft.
She’s pale and shivering, Christ, hypothermia, that’s all we need—
Mercy stumbled around the clearing, searching.
That’ll do—
Mercy pulled an old tarpaulin out from under a tangle of ivy and dragged it over to Amber. “Here, put it around you and sit under this tree. We’ll get warm once we get the others up—”
Amber wrapped the tarpaulin around her. She sat down, her back against the giant oak tree. Mercy returned to the fray and twenty minutes later collapsed to the ground once Willow was up. Everyone caught their breath and lay recovering in the clearing. It began to drizzle. Mercy’s breath misted in the air and she shivered. She looked up.
Where’s Amber—?
Jay followed her gaze. He raised his eyebrows, “Where’s she gone?”
Mercy stood up and went over to the oak tree, she beckoned to the others. “Fan out, she can’t have gone far. She was cold… borderline hypothermic, she’s maybe wandered off, confused. Keep close—”
They walked in a line, deeper into the forest. Five minutes later Mercy froze and held up a hand, clicking her fingers. The others stopped and peered through the trees, following Mercy’s gaze. Amber was sitting on the porch of an old shack, her face a picture of terror. She spotted Mercy and gave a half-hearted wave. Alarms went off in Mercy’s head.
Wrong, wrong, wrong… this is all wrong—
Mercy hunkered down and watched the shack for a few minutes.
Nothing—
She crept over to Jay and the others.
“This has got shit written all over it. It’s a set-up. We need weapons. Let’s get something back at the shaft, there was loads of rusty shit back there. We’ll return and approach from behind, see what’s going on—”
Ten minutes later, armed with a length of rusty chain, a pick axe head and lengths of wood they returned to the spot. Amber was still sitting on the porch, her eyes closed.
Dammit, she’s shivering. Move, make it quick—
Mercy led the way, taking a wide detour to the rear of the cabin. They moved in close and crouched behind the nearest stand of trees.
“I’ll go in first, see what I can see through the back windows. There’ll be less noise if you guys stay here. Depending on what’s there I’ll go in first, if you hear the shit hit the fan or if I’m not out in two minutes you come busting in. OK?”
Jay grunted, “Yeah, go for it, we’ve got your back—”
Mercy crept up to the rear of the shack. She pressed her back against the wall and listened.
Nothing—
She slid along to the first window and stood to one side. She hefted the pick axe head in her hands. It was heavy but would be lethal at close quarters.
One, two, three—
She glanced through the window.
Nothing—
She moved to the back door and listened.
Nothing—
She moved to the far window and listened.
Nothing—
She took a deep breath.
One, two, three—
Mercy glanced through the window into the darkened room. A silhouette. A figure stood outlined against the front window.
Large, male, muscular, watching Amber on the porch. Knew it… a trap. The bastard could have a gun—
Mercy swore and glanced back at the others. She shook her head.
Can’t afford any noise. We’ll only get one shot at this before it turns ugly—
She returned to the screen door and placed her hand on the handle and opened it slowly. She squeezed in and placed a hand on the inner door and listened.
Nothing.
Mercy opened the inner door and stepped into the back hall, her heart pounding. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Slowly, she approached the doorway to the front room, she pressed her back against the wall and concentrated on her breathing.
Wait, wait, just wait—
Nothing.
Wait—
Movement at the back door.
Shit. Too soon Jay, too soon—
The screen door creaked.
Jesus, if I heard that—
A huge figure stepped out of the front room into the hall.
Now—
Mercy smashed the pick axe head into the alpha’s skull. The axe head slipped and struck the alpha in the neck, gouging skin and flesh. It staggered against the door frame and recovered. Mercy dropped the axe head. She dived to the ground and rolled. The alpha screamed and threw itself at her. It landed on top of her and pinned her to the ground with its legs. It raised its hands to strike then froze, its eyes bulging, as a length of chain appeared around its neck hauling it backwards. A heavy plank smashed into its head, caving in its skull, pulping its brains. The figure went limp and fell to the floor.
Mercy stared at the corpse and at Tori and Jay standing behind it. “Not too shabby guys—”
“That was one of those tough bastards. I’ve seen them before. They’re clever, he was using Amber as bait,” Tori said.
Willow went to untie Amber. Jay helped Mercy up. Mercy went over to the corpse. She hesitated then pulled its tattered shirt aside.
Jay peered over her shoulder, “Fuck, really?”
“What is it?” Tori asked, stepping forwards.
“NSA trope… or alpha I should say,” Mercy said, pointing at the serial number and NSA tattoo on the trope’s chest. “Same as feral alphas, except they’ve figured out a way to control them, weaponize them—”
Hunter killers—
Chapter 22
Deep Red
“It was here on its own, there’s no sign of any other activity in the area,” Jay said, after checking outside.
“A random encounter then? We were just unlucky—” Tori said.
“What’s it doing out here, in the middle of nowhere?” Willow asked.
Mercy shook her head, “No idea, it could’ve been sent by the Ki
ndred to find us… but that’s unlikely. Surely they think we’re dead? That tunnel collapse killed Alexander and nearly killed us—”
Perhaps the NSA have seeded these alphas all over the place to attack Constantine’s forces when they get here. If they get here—
Mercy shrugged. She looked outside. “It’s raining. We’ve got shelter. We’re cold and hungry. I think we should stay here for the night. What does everyone think?”
Jay nodded, “I’ll set some snares and see if there’s any fish in the stream. I can block it off with rocks, you never know, we might be lucky—”
“We can light a fire in that stove once it’s dark, that’ll keep us warm through the night. Amber’s doing OK, it was a good idea to wrap her in the drapes, she’s not shivering any more—” Willow observed.
“But we need food, let’s search the place from top to bottom,” Mercy stood up.
Mercy and Willow entered the kitchen.
Go over everything—
Mercy bent down to check under the sink. Willow opened the drawers in the pantry and scoured the shelves.
Nothing—
A noise.
What was that—?
Mercy turned around and listened.
There it is again. A loose floorboard? From the pantry—
Mercy stood up, “Willow, stop what you’re doing—”
Mercy entered the pantry and held a finger to her lips. She moved slowly along the linoleum. A creak.
There—
Mercy moved back and forward over the area. The floorboard creaked with each movement.
Willow’s eyes widened, “Let’s check it out—”
They dropped to the floor and peeled back the linoleum. A rough hatch had been fashioned in the floorboards. Mercy put her fingers through the recessed ring and pulled. The hatch opened, revealing a dead space under the floorboards. Twelve rusty tins lay in the recess.
Willow picked one up and examined it, “No labels. Could be anything. Anything’s better than nothing though—”
“You’ve got that right sister, let’s tell the others. We can use that screwdriver on the shelf to open these. Let’s hope whatever’s inside is edible—” Mercy retrieved the screwdriver.
The Survival Chronicles (Book 6): Dark Mercy Page 15
