The Survival Chronicles (Book 1}: Mercy Kill

by Nally, Fergal F.

  The trope Rose had winged stood up and staggered triggering a mine. Rose saw the remaining trope dragging Arabella down, she couldn’t shoot for fear of hitting Arabella. Rose knew what she had to do, she jumped off the wall onto the grass and ran towards Arabella.

  Dust and debris hung in the air from the explosion, Rose’s ears were ringing. “Bella, hold on I’m coming—” she shouted.

  Rose reached the spot where her friend had stood moments before. The trope lay twitching on the ground, Arabella lay underneath it. Without thinking Rose pulled out her knife and thrust it into the trope’s temple. Blood leaked around the blade and the trope went limp. Rose pulled it off Arabella. At first Rose thought Arabella was dead; she was unmoving, her face and hair covered in blood. Then Arabella gasped and opened her eyes.

  “I can’t breathe—” Arabella gasped.

  Rose checked Arabella for injuries but found none. “You’re OK Bella, you’re just in shock and winded, come on, we’ve got to get you out of here.” Rose crouched beside her friend and helped her up. After some effort they were standing. The last explosion had blown the long grass flat, all trace of their footsteps to the wall had vanished.

  Rose chose silence.

  They held each other and took one step at a time.

  Arabella was shaking. “Wait— need to breathe,” she managed.

  They stopped, Rose’s eyes drifted up, something swooped across the sky casting a shadow.

  Vultures— the city reeked of death.

  As she watched the vultures circling, a black shape hovered in the air above them. Rose squinted against the sun, it was no vulture. The ringing in her ears from the explosions lessened, she heard a high pitched buzzing. Rose blinked and looked again. The object moved off towards the highway.

  A drone? The Preacher has drones?

  There was nothing she could do, so they’d been spotted. So what? Rose turned her attention to Arabella, they needed to get out of the minefield and find a place to rest up.

  “Ready?” Rose asked.

  Arabella nodded.

  Two more steps to the wall. Rose held her breath, Arabella leaned in to her. One step, then two. They were at the wall, Rose helped Arabella up then she followed. They had made it. How long had they been there? It seemed like a lifetime, she knew it had only been minutes. The explosions would draw attention, they had to leave the area fast.

  “OK Bella, we made it. Can you walk? We’re not far from South Cove Plaza, if we stick to the road we should be OK. If we see a place to rest up then we’ll do that,” Rose said.

  Arabella wiped the trope’s blood from her face and looked at her sleeve in disgust. “Some new clothes would be a bonus, but I’ll settle for some bottled water, sparking please,” she answered.

  “Good girl,” Rose smiled. “Let’s go.”

  They returned to the centre of the road, Rose reloaded the Walther and they set off. If they could find an empty basement, anywhere secure, they could hide and rest. Rose scanned the overgrown street, the usual detritus littered the tarmac, remnants of the old world, other people’s lives. An old billboard stared down, a woman’s smiling face, extolling the virtues of an exotic looking perfume. The woman’s eyes serene, her teeth perfect, her hair groomed. Another time, another place; those eyes had looked down on the Fall, on the death of a once great city.

  They came to the junction of West Thames Street and Battery Place. Rose looked at the buildings looming on either side, for some reason Battery Place was almost totally overgrown. Last time she had been there with the big girls they had approached South Cove Plaza from Little West Place and 1st Place, it had not been so overgrown there. She looked back the way they had come, smoke rose from the playground, the explosions had set alight the dry grass and undergrowth.

  That would attract the wrong kind of attention and who knew what the drone would bring. No they were committed, they had to press on down Battery Place.

  “OK Bella, we’re good, we’re nearly there. Can you hang on?” Rose asked.

  Arabella nodded, “Yeah, I’m feeling a bit better, think it was just shock. Let’s go.”

  Rose regretted not finding a firearm for Arabella, the Walther had proved itself at the playground. She looked down Battery Place, the tall grass swaying in the breeze. God knew what the grass hid.

  “Right, keep close, watch where you put your feet, any trouble follow me, no questions—” Rose said.

  They entered Battery Place, South Cove Plaza was two blocks away. The truck hiding the manhole cover lay outside the Plaza. The long grass stretched out like a green sea and came to Rose’s shoulders, she could just see over it. Every so often a truck or bus breached the grass standing out like an island. The buildings on either side watched the street with their broken windows and burnt out rooms. Fire and water damage was rife in the city after the Fall, many buildings had been destroyed.

  A metallic grating came from a side alley. Rose turned to look into the gloom, a body hung by the neck from a fire escape. Someone else’s story, someone else’s pain. They reached the end of the first block and stopped to listen. The long grass thinned out, Rose saw the truck in the distance. A yellow school bus lay stranded in the street ahead. They pressed on passing the bus and its grime covered windows.

  Rose looked back and froze. Something was following them, fast, beating the grass down as it came. Adrenaline surged through her, the truck was too far ahead, the school bus was closest.

  “Quick, Bella follow me,” Rose hissed.

  Arabella looked at Rose and knew trouble was coming. Rose turned towards the school bus. Its doors were shut, its windows intact. A deep rumbling growl filled the air striking fear into the girls, the grass parted a short distance from the bus revealing a huge grizzly bear. Rose threw herself at the bus door and found its handle, she pulled it, Arabella joined in. The door resisted their efforts for a few seconds then grated partially open.

  “Quick, in, in—” Rose pushed Arabella through the opening.

  Rose looked up and saw the grizzly lunging towards her, she threw herself into the bus and pulled the door shut. The inside was dark and musty, Rose engaged the lock and stepped away. The grizzly hurled itself at the door breaking the glass. Its claws screeched on the metalwork outside.

  Arabella screamed.

  The door buckled and gave way, ripped open like a tin can.

  Rose shoved Arabella back along the aisle, dim light from the windows illuminating the way. Rose was vaguely aware of mummified bodies in the seats either side of the aisle. The grizzly tore off the door and pushed itself inside, its roar filling the narrow confines of the bus. The sound of breaking glass and rending metal filled the air.

  Arabella tripped and fell.

  No, no, no, no—

  Every second counted. Rose could feel the grizzly forcing its way up the aisle behind, destroying everything in its path. The bear’s smell and rage almost paralysed her. Arabella wrenched free from the body on the floor and threw herself to the back of the bus.

  “Keep going, keep going—” Rose shouted. “Get to the emergency exit.”

  Rose saw movement on her right and left. The bodies at the back of the bus were turning towards the aisle and shuffling along the seats towards her and Arabella.

  The grizzly’s roars became more strident. Rose glanced around and saw the bear covered in writhing forms tearing and clawing at its nose and eyes. The skinnies were rising, she didn’t have time to understand, she only had time to act, to survive.

  “Go, go, go—” Rose screamed at Arabella.

  Arabella did not need any encouragement, she reached the emergency exit and pulled the release handle. This time the door opened without complaint and a shaft of daylight cut through the gloom. Rose felt a hand on her shoulder and heard herself scream, she was pulled back into the bus. She thrust her hand towards the daylight.

  “Bella, Bella—”

  Rancid breath spilled over her, long nails clawed at her jacket, teeth snapped at he
r neck biting her hair instead. A hand appeared in the doorway followed by Arabella’s face. Arabella grabbed Rose’s hand pulling her away from the death embrace behind.

  A sharp pain tore at Rose’s scalp as the skinny tore out a mouthful of her hair. They fell as one through the doorway to the road outside. The dead thing screamed with blood lust. It attacked Rose snapping its rotten teeth inches from her face. Arabella was on her feet, she leant forwards and stabbed the thing in the eye, it shuddered and slumped on top of Rose.

  The school bus shook in spasms, glass shattering, savage screams coming from within. The sound of rending metal filled the air, the roof of the bus buckled and burst upwards, the bear’s sharp claws appeared through a gaping hole. The grizzly’s head appeared, its mouth and muzzle covered in blood, both its eyes gone. It let out a terrible roar which reverberated across the street.

  The writhing forms within the bus continued their work tearing at the bear, it stood trapped but defiant, roaring at the sky its claws raking the bus.

  Rose caught her breath. “Bella, move, now.”

  Arabella pulled the corpse away from Rose. They sprinted down Battery Place, the sounds of death reaching out behind them.

  Chapter 11 Fresh Meat

  Mercy took the tin from Vince.

  He was right, its contents stank. His head torch had failed, they were in complete darkness. She was as blind as him, they were even. Another howl pierced the air, closer this time galvanizing Mercy into action. She put her hand into the tin and smeared its viscous liquid on her face, hair and neck, then onto her clothes. She fought the urge to vomit, just managing to keep her stomach contents down.

  Vince leaned close and took the tin. “Hurry they’re near, put your hand on my shoulder and follow me. Don’t get separated.” With that he reached up to switch off the light not realising it was already dead.

  Mercy found his shoulder and held on tight. Vince turned and started to walk away from the kiosk feeling the wall on his left. The howling echoed around the subway, the freaks were all around them.

  Vince left the wall and used his stick to navigate. They came to a set of escalators and descended deeper into the subway. The steps creaked below their feet and water dripped onto Mercy’s hair from above. She knew much of the subway system had flooded when the pumping stations had failed.

  She felt no fear, sometimes her condition had advantages. In order to stay alive you had to keep moving, always one step ahead. Come to think of it, this boy, Vince— why wasn’t he petrified? Here she was, god knows how deep underground, being led by a blind kid, both of them stinking like death itself. How stupid and bizarre life had become.

  But then life had always been stupid and bizarre. Vince slowed and came to a halt. Mercy stopped, her arm firmly attached to his right shoulder. She waited in silence trusting him, listening. Then she heard it, below them, footsteps on the escalator, creaking.

  Oh shit—

  It had to be a freak. Her instinct told her to reach for the hammer but she resisted the temptation trusting Vince. The escalators were narrow, if it was a freak it might detect them despite the oil they had applied. She moved her head listening, more footsteps, this time behind and on the right on the other escalator.

  Breathe—

  Vince moved, climbing up and onto the slipway between the two escalators. Mercy lost her grip on his shoulder but he waited for her and she found him again as she sat on the slipway. Vince reached back and held her left boot. He began to slide down the slipway, Mercy understood and reclined allowing herself to slide.

  The gradient was steep, it was an effort to control their descent. As they slid metallic clicking and grinding came from either side. She guessed three freaks, two on the right and one on the left, heading towards the upper level and the kiosk. The last freak on the right stopped as they passed. Mercy watched as its dim outline turned towards the slipway, its glowing visor camera still working. She could see the union of corrupted flesh and technology. It looked right at her, hesitating, Vince took his feet away from the sides of the slipway and they shot down the remaining section. The freak grabbed after them its clawed fingers passing through Mercy’s hair. Its high pitched scream echoed through the tunnel.

  Mercy lost her grip on Vince and tumbled after him. Other screams filled the air, freaks communicating in the darkness. Mercy heard a noise below and a soft groan, she steeled herself for the end of the slipway. Something hit her right calf and she rolled left, pain bursting up her leg. She fell onto a cold, wet surface. She lay stunned for a few seconds her breathing coming in ragged gasps.

  “Quick, take my hand, follow me,” Vince hissed beside her.

  Mercy jumped, she reached out finding Vince’s hand. He hauled her up and didn’t let go. She was able to stand, the sharp pain in her leg subsided to a dull ache. She concentrated on walking and allowed Vince to half guide, half drag her along, they reached a wall and followed it. They entered a flooded section, there was no turning back. The water was cold and came to Mercy’s waist. Vince slowed down keeping in contact with the wall on the left. Mercy held her hand out to steady herself and touched a ledge, something moved beneath her hand.

  Rats?

  Mercy pulled her hand away and concentrated on her connection with Vince, her lifeline in the darkness. Vince’s breathing was laboured, she was shivering, they were both cold, her body was weakening, she couldn’t take much more punishment.

  Vince stopped. “Found it,” he said. “Follow me.”

  Mercy listened and heard him move upwards. Her brain didn’t understand until she reached her hands out and felt the ladder. She waited until Vince had finished climbing then followed him. She felt herself pass through an opening then the ladder ended. She reached out and felt the floor, she clambered off the ladder. Her shivering was worse, her movements slow and cumbersome.

  Vince came alongside, “Just need to do this.” She heard him pulling and lifting the ladder up behind them. A sharp click followed and the draft from below vanished. More scuffling then a switch. Light streamed from a lantern in the corner. Mercy blinked.

  “Welcome to my home,” Vince said, relief in his voice. “That was close, on the escalators I mean. They’ve been— more coordinated than usual, but hey, we made it,” Vince tried to sound cheerful.

  Mercy looked around. The space was large and extended beyond the reach of the light. It was dry, food and provisions lay off to one side. Strange swirls of graffiti decorated the walls.

  “Hey Vince, what is this place?” Mercy asked.

  Vince leant back and tilted his head stretching his neck and shoulders. “It’s a walled up station, disused. There are, were, quite a few scattered around the city’s subway network. I found this one by accident, it used to be a thing, for kids to try and find them all— before the Fall. They opened some of them up, used them to hangout, totally illegal and if you were busted by the transport police well… not good. But that’s never stopped kids before has it?”

  Mercy looked around. “Hell yeah, I remember hearing something about this, some art project four stories below street level, urban explorers and artists, somewhere down near the Chelsea gallery district right?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Well, this is my own art project I guess, I’ve explored most of it, still some bits I’ve not got to yet, but the good thing is no freaks, it’s safe,” Vince said.

  Mercy bit her tongue. Nowhere was safe. Well, she just needed a space to get herself together, recoup and rest up and this looked like it. She looked at Vince. “How did you know to drop? On the slipway I mean— those freaks were real close, they were communicating with each other.”

  Vince tapped his ears. “I’ve got radar, my ears are my eyes down here, I heard them that’s all. I can hear their breathing, their movements.”

  Mercy looked at her right leg, the pain was returning, no blood was visible. “Think I hit a speed bump on the slipway,” she said.

  “Ouch,” Vince said, “yeah we bugged out pretty quick. G
ot a first aid kit over here somewhere,” he stood and walked to his bedroll.

  Mercy pulled down her jeans and inspected her thigh.

  “How bad is it?” Vince asked.

  Mercy was relieved to see the skin intact. Her thigh was tender and bruised but there was no serious injury. The leg would be black and blue by the next morning but she had suffered worse. “It’s OK, just bruising.” She pulled her jeans up and looked around. “Hey can we dry clothes here? We’re both soaking.”

  “All the luxuries here,” Vince replied he pulled a first aid kit from of a pile of boxes. “The kids who used to stay down here brought all sorts of good stuff, there’s even a barbecue somewhere over there. We can light it and dry our stuff.”

  “Barbecue?” Mercy repeated. “There must be ventilation, what about the smoke?”

  “Never been a problem, yeah there’s ventilation, I don’t know how it works but it does,” Vince replied, handing her the first aid kit.

  Mercy saw a pile of batteries and a large flashlight off to one side. She would need to explore later.

  “Actually the barbecue sounds like a good idea,” Vince said. “But we’ll just use it for heat, not cooking, don’t want to stir up any unnecessary attention.”

  He walked to the back of the room and pulled a dusty tarp off a bulky shape. Mercy watched fascinated, it was as if he wasn’t blind at all. She followed him, he had uncovered a barbecue, a gas canister sat beside it.

  “I got it working once before, you can give it a go if you like,” Vince stepped aside.

  “Let’s do it,” Mercy replied. She checked the canister and its attachments, all looked secure. She inspected the barbecue controls and found the lighter switch. She flicked the canister valve, then the lighter switch. A low hiss of gas reached her, nothing happened, she tried a second then third time. Flames burst forth under the griddle.