The Survival Chronicles (Book 6): Dark Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  “OK, let’s go. We’ve no light… hey, Rose are you OK?” Mercy touched Rose’s neck. Her fingers came away covered in blood.

  Rose felt the back of her head. “Thought I felt a scratch back there. I feel OK, could’ve been nicked by a piece of shrapnel from that first frag—”

  “Here, let me take a look,” Mercy turned Rose’s head, searching for the source of the bleeding.

  “There, you’ve got a small cut at the base of your skull. It’s oozing, we’ll need to dress it but we need to get out of here first. You think you can hang on Rose?”

  “Sure, just keep an eye on me. Make sure I don’t do anything stupid—”

  Mercy nodded and pressed her forehead to Rose’s. “I’ve got this Rose, come on, we’re gonna have to feel our way down this lift shaft. It’s dark but it’s at the same angle as the building so we should be able to slide down. I’ll go first—”

  Rose grunted her understanding. Mercy slipped over the edge of the half-open door and lowered herself into the shaft.

  Feet first, and keep it slow—

  Mercy descended, sliding on her rear.

  We’re what? Four, five stories up? It’ll be fine—

  She heard Rose sliding behind her. Mercy encountered oily cables and steel beams in the shaft. She started counting, imagining a timer on the wall beside her.

  Sixty seven, sixty eight—

  Her foot hit a hard surface and she stopped.

  What now?

  She leant forwards in the dark to feel the obstacle.

  It must be the elevator itself—

  Rose slid down beside her, her breathing heavy in the confined space. Mercy looked back up the shaft towards the dim point of light at the top.

  Jesus, if the NSA threw a grenade in here we’d be—

  She touched a handle.

  Must be the lift hatch—

  Mercy opened the hatch. Daylight illuminated the interior of the empty lift below.

  “Nice one,” Rose said, her speech slurred.

  Dammit Rose, you’ve got concussion, stay with me—

  “Yeah, I’m going in,” Mercy stuck her feet through the open hatch and clambered down into the lift.

  She helped Rose through and they caught their breath for a minute. The lift doors were open and they stared out onto another collapsed level. The corridor was three feet below the lift floor.

  “We’ll have to climb out and squeeze under the lift to re-enter the shaft below,” Rose said.

  Mercy nodded and pointed at the wall outside. “There’s a medical station there, looks like a defibrillator machine on the wall, you know? For cardiac arrests. There’s a first aid kit there too. Hang on, I’ll just check it out—”

  Rose sat back in the lift and nodded. “Go ahead, I ain’t going anywhere—”

  Mercy dropped out of the lift onto the sloping corridor and crawled up to the first aid kit. She opened it and smiled.

  “Sorted—”

  She pulled out various dressings, a few ampoules of sterile saline and a tube of skin glue.

  This’ll do as a field dressing—

  Mercy returned to Rose and cleaned her friend’s scalp wound. There was no sign of shrapnel. She sealed the cut with the skin glue, selected the correct size dressing and covered Rose’s wound.

  “That ought to do it. It’ll need changing later. At least the bleeding’s stopped—”

  Rose tested the dressing with her fingers, “Good as new, let’s get moving—”

  Muffled voices broke the silence. Mercy held up a hand. They looked around. The voices continued. Mercy pointed to an air-conditioning grille in the wall. “It’s coming from there, they could be anywhere. It’s the NSA, they’re moving in on the building. Come on—”

  They squeezed under the elevator and re-entered the lift shaft. Their scrambled descent became more urgent. A shaft of daylight penetrated the darkness below. Mercy reached the light first. It was coming from a gap between the ground floor lift doors. She peeped through the gap and saw a marble lobby outside.

  “No soldiers, come on, quick, let’s go before they get here.

  Mercy pulled the doors another few inches apart and squeezed through into the damaged lobby. Rose followed her, they kept to the shadows and slunk across the open space to the shattered glass entrance. Mercy looked outside, her eyes widening.

  A vast crater occupied the whole street in front of the building. The crater was at least forty feet deep and had breached the sewers below. Sewer tunnels were visible on either side of the crater floor. A school bus and a pile of cars lay at the bottom of the vast hole.

  Christ, F-35 damage or a blown gas main maybe. Shit, there’s no way but down—

  Mercy lifted her head.

  Voices. Beyond the crater, off to the right. They’re coming—

  “Quick Rose, help me—” Mercy reached up and started pulling at the loose ceiling cabling.

  Twenty seconds later they had fifty feet of cabling coiled on the floor. Mercy tied one end to the door frames and threw the rest into the crater. She unslung her M16.

  “You go first Rose, I’ll cover you,” she switched the rifle’s safety off and aimed at the heaped up rubble at the edge of the crater.

  Rose crouched at the crater rim and lowered herself over the side using the cabling. Mercy looked left and right. Men’s voices rose in the distance on the right. A muzzled dog appeared on top of the rubble and stared at Mercy in the doorway. Mercy’s eyes narrowed.

  Why isn’t it barking—?

  The dog stood still, its head unmoving. Mercy swore when she saw the harness-mounted camera attached to the dog’s body.

  Shit, it’s been trained not to bark because of tropes. When it sees a target, it stands still. The camera does the rest of the work—

  A helmeted head appeared over the rubble. Mercy fired a suppressive burst then slung the M16 over her shoulder and knelt at the crater edge. A hail of bullets slammed into the ground where she had stood seconds before. She dropped over the edge, clinging to the cable. She slid down fast, her bare hands burning on the cable.

  Hang on—

  Mercy’s boots found purchase on the cable and she managed to slow her descent. More bullets hammered into the edge of the crater above, loose rubble rained down on her. She half-clambered, half-slid the next thirty feet until her grip failed and she fell.

  She landed on top of the school bus, rolled along its length and stopped just above the entrance door. Stunned, she froze, her mind processing the fall, waiting for a wave of pain to crush her. A hand reached up from below and pulled her over the side.

  Rose caught Mercy as she fell over the side of the bus. Rose put an index finger to her lips and pointed up at the crater’s rim. Bullets slammed into the side of the bus and the cars in the crater. Two grenades came flying over the crater edge, landing on the other side of the bus. The explosions shattered glass and dislodged rubble from above. Silence descended on the crater.

  Mercy and Rose crouched behind the bus and listened. Mercy dropped to her stomach and peered under the bus at the other cars in the crater.

  Why aren’t they fast roping down? They know we’re in here—

  Rose gripped Mercy’s shoulder and pointed at the crater rim. Three red laser beams were crisscrossing the bus.

  Shit, snipers—

  Mercy ducked and waited. Seconds later a long groan came from the sewer tunnel on the right. She turned to look. The tunnel mouth seemed to bulge with movement as it disgorged a knot of emaciated tropes, their hands reaching out towards the crater.

  Christ, that’s why the NSA didn’t come after us. We just need one alpha to turn this into a clusterfuck—

  Rose tapped Mercy on the arm and pulled her away from the bus towards a concrete recess in the shadows. Mercy scrabbled back on all fours. Rose disappeared inside the recess with Mercy close behind. A steel grille lay on the ground in front of the recess. Mercy pulled it after her, blocking off their hiding place.

  Like
rats in a trap—

  Chapter 31

  Tryst

  More tropes spewed from the sewer tunnel into the exposed crater. They milled around the school bus and cars raising their eyes to the NSA troops who watched from the crater rim.

  “Must be seventy or more of the fuckers out there,” Rose whispered.

  Mercy chewed her lip. ”Yeah, most look pretty wasted. People used to hide in the subways and sewers back in New York… I guess it was the same here—”

  “Yeah, I remember some of the early gangs went underground. It usually ended badly. NSA don’t seem too keen to come down here. I guess we’ll wait it out,” Rose said.

  “Well they don’t exactly know it’s us do they? So, yeah, let’s hold on and see what happens. Try and get some rest, we’ll keep our feet pressed against this grille to keep it in place—”

  They lay for a couple of hours in the recess. The tropes became less agitated and settled into slow shuffling and swaying, their heads downcast. Cramp built in Mercy’s leg, she opened her eyes and rubbed her calf, biting down the pain. She checked her watch; 3:43 pm.

  An hour, NSA haven’t made a move, tropes seem calm enough. Our biotech’s working, if there’d been an alpha out there it would’ve found us by now—

  Mercy nudged Rose. “Rose wake up. We need to bail. I don’t trust the NSA, they could’ve left a sweeper team up there.” She looked at the sewer tunnel on the right, “We’ve only got one option; that tunnel. The one on the left is completely blocked. We’ll need light in there… any ideas?”

  Rose rubbed her eyes, “We could check out the bus, there’ll be bags and stuff in there… or the cars, but there’s more cover in the bus—”

  “OK, looks like there’s just normal tropes out there but still, we’ll try and keep a low profile. You ready to do this—?”

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Rose dropped her feet from the grille.

  They crawled out from their refuge and crept over to the school bus. They climbed through one of the smashed side windows. It was dark in the bus. Mercy could make out children’s desiccated corpses in the seats and on the floor.

  “You check out the back, I’ll start with the driver up front,” Mercy whispered.

  They separated and started the hunt for anything useful. Mercy found the driver slumped over the steering wheel.

  Sorry mister, whatever happened here… I hope it was quick—

  Her fingers brushed against a metal object in his jacket pocket. She pulled out a Zippo lighter.

  Hell yeah—

  His other pocket contained a packet of cigarettes and some mints. Mercy turned to leave then spotted a city map in the door side-pocket. She reached across and took the map. She made her way down the bus, searching school bags.

  Nothing—

  She met Rose half-way. Rose held up an umbrella then opened a bag full of microfiber filling and a selection of earphones.

  “What’s that for?” Mercy asked.

  “It’s the filling from jackets and coats, it’s flammable. Got the umbrella back there, we can make a burning torch if we can light this stuff.”

  Mercy pulled out the Zippo. “Let’s get busy.”

  They put together a makeshift torch using the umbrella and the microfiber filling. They used earphone cable to tie the filling in place.

  “OK, we want zero attention so we won’t light this until we have to. We’ll get to the tunnel and keep to the wall, feel our way along. We’ll just have to go slow—” Mercy said.

  Rose blinked, “We’ve no idea where that sewer goes. So long as it’s away from here… I guess that’ll do—”

  They clambered out of the bus and crept over piles of earth and rubble to the sewer entrance. A light drizzle was falling. The light from the leaden sky was weak and barely penetrated the sewer opening.

  Tropes are ignoring us. Good—

  Mercy pressed herself against the tunnel wall and waited for Rose to join her. Rose tapped her on the shoulder and they set off. The going was slow, they had to negotiate various obstructions in their path. The ground was uneven and treacherous. They trudged through ankle-deep water and shivered in the cold, damp air.

  No rats. Well, we know why there’s zero rats down here. At least there’s an upside to having sewer tropes—

  They kept moving, feeling their way along the wall. Mercy checked her watch and glanced back.

  “Can’t see the crater behind. Can’t see anything ahead. I think we could try the torch now Rose,” Mercy leant against the wall and waited for Rose’s response.

  “Yeah, here you are—” Rose handed Mercy the makeshift umbrella-torch.

  Mercy lit the torch with the Zippo. She blinked against the brightness of the flame then held the umbrella aloft. She stared into the tunnel ahead and sighed. “More of the same, come on we can move faster now that we can see where we’re going—”

  They quickened their pace and made progress. Twenty minutes later Mercy paused. The umbrella-torch was burning low.

  “Hey, what’s that ahead?” Rose asked.

  Mercy squinted at an object in the middle of the tunnel.

  “What the fuck? Looks like a shopping trolley—” Mercy replied, disbelief in her voice.

  “Figures,” Rose replied. “Like you said; there were probably survivors down here, gangs and shit. Anything useful in it?” Rose stepped forwards.

  Mercy watched as Rose rummaged through the shopping trolley.

  “Barbed wire, plastic bags, fence posts and… a road flare,” Rose handed the flare to Mercy.

  “Looks as if they were trying to make a barrier or something… to keep stray tropes out maybe?” Mercy pocketed the flare and glanced up. “Look ahead Rose, the tunnel’s curving, let’s move before the torch burns out—”

  They rounded the corner and stopped after a few steps. The dying torch flame fluttered as a breeze issued from a merging tunnel on the right, ten yards away.

  Rose pointed straight ahead, “Look, lights ahead—”

  Mercy squinted at the distant bobbing lights, a frown on her face. Men’s voices carried on the air. She tensed.

  Silhouettes, five or six, shit, NSA. They’ve got night vision goggles—

  Green laser gun sights flickered in their direction.

  Fuck—

  “Down Rose—”

  Mercy threw the spluttering torch towards the men. She pulled Rose to the ground and rolled to the right. A second later gunfire filled the tunnel as rounds flew over their heads.

  Sonofabitch—

  Mercy took the road flare from her pocket and ignited it. She threw it ahead and slunk back against the wall.

  That should blind their night vision for a while—

  “On me Rose—” Mercy crawled towards the merging tunnel on the right.

  Shouts. Splashing water. More gunfire. Mercy reached the junction and threw herself around the corner, feeling the way. She turned to help Rose then reached for the Zippo in her pocket. She flicked the lighter on and looked ahead.

  “Come on Rose, run—”

  They staggered down the side tunnel, the lighter flame spluttering. Mercy’s shoulders tensed.

  How much juice is left in the lighter? How long until those men reach the tunnel junction and see us? They were, what? A hundred yards away?

  A sharp breeze cut across her from the left.

  What? Wait—

  Mercy stopped.

  Rose staggered into Mercy, breathless, “Sorry… my head, it hurts—”

  Mercy stared into the narrow service passageway on the left.

  Thank you—

  “Rose, in here, follow me,” Mercy pulled Rose after her.

  Iron handrails lined the steps. Mercy put the lighter away and climbed up using the railings. The steps were slippery and worn. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, her breathing came in shallow gasps. Her jaw clenched as she imagined bullets slamming into her skull and spine from behind. The steps turned a corner. Two feeble pinpricks of light filtered
down from above.

  Dead end? No… a ladder going up. It’s a manhole—

  Mercy grabbed Rose and pushed her towards the metal ladder. “Go on Rose, up. Fast as you can, quick—”

  Mercy unslung her M16 and waited, listening at the curve in the passageway. Men’s voices reached her from a distance. She peered around the corner.

  No lights, yet. We’ve got a slight lead—

  A grating sound behind.

  Rose’s voice, hollow sounding, “Come on, it’s clear.”

  Mercy hauled herself up the ladder towards the daylight. She emerged from the manhole into an empty side street. Relief flooded through her. She bared her teeth and clambered out into the cold, fresh air. Her shoulders relaxed.

  Freedom, you bastards. Freedom. You’ve not nailed us yet—

  Chapter 32

  Union

  Rose kicked the manhole cover back in place. “Where in hell are we?”

  Mercy looked around. “Is that—?”

  “That’s Union Station over there I think,” Rose pointed at a massive building on the right. In the distance a huge overhanging concrete wall towered above a wide tree-lined avenue. “That’s gotta be the inner wall Rick told us about. Reckon that’s Constitution Avenue right there.”

  “Follow me,” Mercy shouted.

  They ran down F Street Northeast, turned into 3rd Street Northeast then ducked into E Street Northeast finally stopping, breathless, in front of a four-storey 19th century mansion. Mercy looked right and left then ducked along the side of the house. She fought her way through weeds and ivy to the back yard and stared at the nearest ground floor window. All the windows were covered in newspaper on the inside. She moved to a set of French doors and peered through a tear in the newspaper. She took out her combat knife and dug at the rotten wood around the lock. The lock loosened after a few minutes’ work.

  “In here,” Mercy said, pushing the doors open.

  Rose staggered in, “I think we lost them. I… that was cl—”

  “Fucking close, I know,” Mercy said, pulling the drapes shut. She sank into a winged chair beside an ornate fireplace. Her heart steadied. She listened to Rose’s breathing and then after a few seconds, she tuned into the house.