Edge of Mercy (Young Adult Dystopian)(Volume 1) (The Mercy Series)

by Marks, C. C.

  One of the guards pulled out a ring of keys, and in the moment it took him to search for the right one, I attempted to appeal to any basic decency they might have. “John, surely you had a mother, a sister, an aunt, or someone you cared about. Would you want her to be treated like this?” He gave no reaction, just continued to search the keys, so I turned to the other guard, “Levi, you can help me. Just let me go. I’ll take my sister and leave here. I won’t trouble this community anymore.”

  Neither acknowledged I’d said anything at all. Instead, John lifted a key toward the door, fitting it into the keyhole and twisting with a sharp click.

  As the door swung open, I struggled to free myself again and feral grunts escaped my throat with every try, but still they dragged me into the barely-lit darkness, their pace slow and cautious. Though they still clamped my arms tightly, I noticed a change in the air, in the way they moved through the space of the hallway. They tightened closer to me, but the closer they got, the more I struggled, emitting sharper little screams the further they took me.

  A shriek at the end of the hallway stopped our procession briefly, and I stopped my struggles completely, falling silent. I knew that sound. It haunted my nightmares and filled the nighttime with a cacophony of terror. There were Draghoul in here.

  We moved forward again, but their footsteps had grown light and wary as we approached the area from which the sound carried. Why were they continuing? Didn’t they realize the danger we were walking into?

  “Did you hear that? I think we should turn back.”

  But they didn’t. And as we shuffled forward, more shrieks sounded down the corridor. There was more than one. Yet, the guards didn’t show any sign of stopping. They walked on, passing a couple doors from which more ugly shrieks radiated, and finally stopped in front of a metal door with a long, thin window stretched down the left side. It was difficult to swallow past the lump in my throat. I had a very bad feeling about this.

  John, who I’d called friend once, held up the lantern in his hand, illuminating the face of a figure pressed against the glass of the window. The pale skin and razor-sharp teeth made it clear it was a Draghoul, but that’s not why a wave of horror started in my knees and rose up like bile, leaving a dry, revolting taste in my mouth. I blinked once, twice, but the image didn’t change.

  As the figure reared back and slammed itself against the window again and again, scratching at the metal door with what I knew were dagger-like claws, I stared at the familiar face of the woman who’d worked hard to prepare me for this unmerciful world. This creature wasn’t my mother any longer, but tears streamed down my face and came out as great, heaving sobs as I watched her battle to get to me, not to comfort me as she used to do and as I so desperately needed, but to mindlessly attack and infect, like Draghoul did.

  The guards pushed me into a room across from the one where they’d shown me something they knew would stop my struggles immediately. Sure enough, I didn’t put up any more of a fight, just looked around the room briefly to make sure I was alone, and collapsed a boneless heap on the ground. I didn’t protest when they closed the metal door with a loud bang, not even when they walked away with the lantern, leaving me in complete darkness. I wanted to be in darkness, to be able to see nothing in my little cell or across the hall. As the shrieks around me grew frenzied, I wanted to close my eyes and fade into nothingness. Some might see leaving me in the dark as cruel, maybe even they believed it was a punishment, but I didn’t rail or complain. To me, the dark was a much needed refuge, a brief escape from the horrors of this day. Whether they meant to or not, they were being merciful.

  Chapter 16

  Unsure whether it had been hours or minutes, I awoke to silence and complete blackness. Confusion seized my brain, and I felt a tickle of panic along my spine as the claustrophobia of the darkness around me closed in. The shrieks had stopped, but I was entirely disoriented with the lack of light.

  As the reality of my situation sunk in all over again, I felt the cold concrete icing my cheek, palms, and seeping through my bulky clothing. With a steadying breath, I braced my arms below me and lifted myself up the rough wall at my back. Slowly, cautiously, I felt my way around the walls of the room, moving away from what I remembered as the direction of the door.

  I encountered a smooth, metal object, positioned at about waist level and jutting out from the wall. As I felt around the object, my hands traced over some rounded handles which twisted when I moved them. The soft, high pitch of water splashing into a bowl reached my ears, and a small thrill ran through me as I acknowledged my itchy craving for a drink. I bent and with a little effort, let the water run over my dry tongue until my stomach sloshed and ached. I let water run into my cupped hands and splashed it over my face a few times until I felt awake and alert again.

  Satisfied for now, I continued to feel my way around the room. In my exploration, I found a toilet and set of bunk beds. A knot on my forehead still stung from my literal run-in with the top bunk. Eventually though, I made it back around to the door, which as I suspected, was locked tight.

  I could feel the different texture of the window in the door, but trying to see through it was completely useless. Without light, I was as good as sightless, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like what I saw anyway.

  My knees grew boneless, I sunk to the floor again, and covered my face with my hands. If this was where they planned to keep me permanently, they’d already won. Sure, I’d spent years in a one-room underground bunker with my parents, and had endured a night in the Dead Forest with my mother, but in a matter of hours, I’d be begging for a lantern and doing whatever they asked to get one.

  I’d been ready to fight them to the death until I’d seen my mother, or what used to be my mother. What was the point now? Here, there, anywhere I went, I wasn’t any more protected than any other place. So why continue to fight? We were all Draghoul food anyway. It was just a matter of time.

  Sometime later, I heard a click in the lock of the door at the end of the hallway. My empty stomach grumbled, so I hoped it was someone bringing food. Hesitant footsteps grew louder as whoever it was approached. I expected the shrieks to start up again, but the corridor remained quiet.

  Lantern light filled the window above me, but I didn’t dare hope it was someone here to help me. Thomas wouldn’t even look at me when they dragged me out of that joke of a trial. Zeke was obviously glad to be rid of me. And Quillen now had total access to my little sister.

  Fresh tears began to fall as I thought of my sister. I couldn’t imagine the fear and hurt she must be going through. Once again, I felt a surge of anger at myself for not leaving sooner. If only I’d been braver or stronger or something. Both of us might have been safe by now.

  “Charlie?” I recognized the voice, but sat stunned for a moment before rising and looking into the shrewd eyes of Peter. What was he doing here? Had he come to mock what his father had done to me? To rub it in my face that I was no longer a free member of the community? That was the most likely scenario.

  “Peter?”

  “I guess you’re wondering why I’m here.” He didn’t wait for me to respond. It wasn’t a question anyway. “I’m here to help you.”

  I didn’t bother believing he meant what he said. Not just because I knew I couldn’t trust him, but also because I was sure my current situation brought him pleasure. If anyone here wanted bad things to happen to me, it was definitely Peter. He wanted to help me like a Draghoul wanted to help me.

  “What can you do for me?”

  A predatory grin lifted the corners of his mouth, and I felt very much like a slab of juicy goose on his plate.

  “I thought I’d speak with my father for you. He’d listen to me if I asked him to get you out of this…” he looked around with a shudder, “…this nightmare place.”

  Despite my trepidation, I listened to him, wanted to believe there was a way out of this. But if that sad excuse of a trial taught me anything it was that in the community ever
yone was working some angle, an angle that most assuredly wouldn’t help me and would likely make things worse for me. So, I stared at him a moment, suspicion riding me hard. “Why would you help me?”

  He spread his arms wide, pulling the lantern away from my direct view, and filling me with panic momentarily. “If you give me a chance, you’ll see I’m a nice guy. I like to help people.”

  I leaned forward, trying desperately to see the light again. I was so weak. The thought of losing that light made my heart pound and my breathing seize up. I was at an obvious disadvantage. It wasn’t a good place to be.

  His eyes narrowed, and I realized my fear was showing on my face. He’d no doubt use it against me now. But surprisingly, he swung the lantern into the frame of the window once again, easing my alarm a little.

  “Do you want me to leave this lantern here?”

  I cocked my head to the side, once again trying to figure out his angle. “What do you want? You’re not a something-for-nothing kind of guy.”

  “Maybe I’m just trying to do a good deed.”

  “Why? You don’t like me. You’ve never liked me.”

  He sighed, and I got the feeling he’d expected me to cooperate a little more.

  “Truth is, my father wants to hold a lottery for you.”

  My mouth fell open at his words. Horror overwhelmed me for a moment, and nausea squeezed my empty stomach. A lottery? Like I was some object to be won. My anger built like a bonfire, rising higher the more I thought of what they meant to do to me. Just last night, I’d thought I’d cave at the first sign of freedom. But as fury turned my vision red, I realized there was definitely some fight left in me.

  “But I told him you’d be more willing if you got to choose.”

  “Know this now, nothing would make me willing.”

  “That’s what he said you’d say.”

  “What’s it matter to you if I’m willing or not?”

  He set the lantern on the ground and smiled knowingly when I leaned forward again to keep it in sight. “It doesn’t really. What matters to me, is that I’m the best. And the best gets chosen first.”

  Things were becoming clearer. The little sniveling pissant wasn’t here to help me. He was here to help himself. Now that made more sense.

  “So, you want me to choose you first, and what will I get in return?” I wasn’t really considering his offer. I meant it when I said nothing would make me willing. But I wanted to hear what he thought he could guarantee me.

  “I’ll get you out of here. You can have a quiet, well-lit cell away from the monsters.” His crazy eyes wide, a sneer planted on his mouth, he flashed all his too-large teeth at me like he’d just offered me all my dreams with a side of roasted meat.

  “And all I have to do is tell Jonas I choose you first.”

  “Yes. Simple isn’t it. We help each other that way.”

  I couldn’t repress my natural reaction. I laughed, low at first, but growing to hearty chuckles. Briefly I worried about waking the creatures around us, which gave me pause. The silence meant something. I knew that much was true. “Why aren’t the Draghoul shrieking?”

  “It’s dawn. They go into some sort of comatose state at sun-up.”

  Dawn. Zeke was leaving now, probably forever, and I hadn’t said goodbye. Like he wanted me to anyway. He was glad to dust me off his hands.

  “Well? What do you say?”

  I laughed harder, until my belly ached with my humor. “I wouldn’t choose you if my life depended on it. You’re the last person I’d choose.”

  “Oh, really? You’d choose me last, huh? Let’s see what days in the dark does to your resolve.”

  He picked up the lantern, moved down the hallway, and a clawing panic hit me stronger than I’d expected. A choked cry escaped before I could call it back. He stopped and slowly paced to the spot in which he’d stood before.

  “Change your mind already?”

  My brain worked hard to find a way to make him leave that lantern without giving anything away. I did have something to bargain with that he’d be interested in. I had information, or at least I knew where he could find it. But I had to convince him to trust me, an impossible task if ever there were one.

  “You know I don’t believe a word you say, and I know the feeling’s mutual, but maybe we could begin to build a little trust between us. A small confidence between us would be a start, and once I felt I could believe what you say, I might be able to consider your other offer.” At just the thought, a barely suppressed shudder came over me.

  “Okay. What small confidence?”

  “A trade, of sorts. I’ll give you useful information, and you’ll leave the lantern for me.”

  He rolled his eyes and pursed his mouth. His skepticism was obvious. “What kind of information? Is it worth it to me?”

  I released a heavy breath. It was time to put it all out there. “About your mother. And your real father.”

  He turned and slammed against the door so fast, I jumped back, every nerve in my body shaking. He’d dropped the lantern, but it must have landed upright because light bathed his twisted face. “Don’t ever again mention my mother to me.” His strained voice came low through his gritted teeth. I’d certainly hit a nerve.

  Violence etched itself in every feature of his face. I hesitated, but there was a thick, metal door between us, and I grew bold enough to go on. “There’s a journal, written by Cassie, Victor’s sister. She overheard a conversation about your mom…and your actual father…and wrote about it.”

  He pounded the window twice with his fist. “Stop! Just stop! Shut your Jezebel mouth.”

  I continued, figuring I had nothing else to lose. “I hid the journal behind the large, metal cabinet at the top of the stairs. He’s not your father. The name of your real father is written in there.”

  With a long, frustrated growl, he swiveled, turning his back to me. He scrubbed both hands through his hair. I couldn’t tell if he was listening to me any longer, but I gave it one last attempt as I said, “Go find that journal.” I leaned my forehead against the door. “Please, leave the lantern.”

  For a moment, I thought he was going to. He took a step toward the far end of the corridor, but before he took another, he swung around, swooped down, and grabbed the lantern. He didn’t even look back once as he walked away with my only hope for light. Even when I called out to him to bring the lantern back, even screamed that I’d choose him, the protest of the hinges as the metal door swung wide and slammed shut behind him was the only answer, leaving me in complete blackness once again. I mentally kicked myself for having such bad negotiation skills. If I’d just been a little more tactful, made it seem like I was doing him a favor, maybe he would have been more open to…to…what? Learning his entire existence was a lie? Finding out the father he tried so hard to impress would never see him as more than a reminder of his own failings as a man. A painful truth hard for anyone to swallow. You couldn’t put a pretty spin on that, could you?

  Yeah, that plan had probably been doomed from the start. Besides, you didn’t give up your one bargaining chip unless you had your trade firmly in hand. Any fool could’ve figured that out.

  I backed toward the bunk and lay down on the coverless plastic mattress. Air and dust flew up as I settled in. My stomach grumbled in protest to the lack of food since yesterday evening, but there was nothing I could do about that right now. Probably just another tactic to break me down. Sadly, though I’d like to think I’d refuse anything they offered me now, I knew there’d come a time when I’d be just desperate enough, and they’d win. A small sliver of backbone deep inside protested the thought, but would it be enough to outlast days of deprivation? Could I remain strong in the face of odds stacked so high against me? I had to. The alternative would surely be the death of me.

  Hours slipped by as I counted forward to a thousand and back again a few times, trying my best to hold back a flood of tears threatening to fall. I couldn’t allow myself to give in to pity righ
t now. Not if I wanted to stay strong and ready for any chance to escape.

  But it was hard not to think of how dire the situation was now. I wondered how Star was doing and if anyone was taking care of her. Was she with Quillen again? I tried to shake that thought. I thought of Zeke out in the forest alone. Would he know where to go or how to hide? I doubted it. My heart squeezed and my stomach rolled just thinking about him running for his life. I wished he’d never volunteered. I wished he’d listened to me.

  In that moment, something my father said once came back to me. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of him often. It was just too painful, but when I did, I usually heard his wise words inside my mind. I was having one of those moments now as I heard his deep, booming voice say, “Wish in one hand and spit in the other. See which one fills up faster.” All in all, now that I thought about it, it wasn’t really uplifting advice. Thanks, Dad.

  Then again, when I rolled it around in my mind, I realized it really was good advice. He was basically telling me I couldn’t sit back and hope for a rescue. The only person who’d shown even a remote inkling of protection was Thomas. But, where was he now?

  “I thought you’d stick up for me.” The words sounded hollow in the darkness around me. No reason to hope I could rely on him. If I was going to get out of here, I had to figure out a way by myself.

  I sat up and took four steps across the room before I touched the wall. I didn’t bump into anything else but turned back and took the four steps back toward the bed. I scooted over a step and repeated the process. After some time, I’d mapped out the entire room and knew how many steps across and lengthwise I could move. I climbed the bunk beds and felt the ceiling. I’d seen ceilings long ago made of panels that lifted, but this one was solid with no give at all.

  Nothing but the mattresses was moveable. Even the bunk beds were screwed to the wall and floor. So, I pulled the mattresses from the beds and set them on the wall beside the door. They were flimsy, but might be enough of a mass to throw someone off balance. That was my hope anyway. If and when someone came through the entrance, I’d use the mattress to push them out and hopefully to the ground, as I ran for the exit at the end of the hallway.