The Survival Chronicles (Book 3): Mercy Fall

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Mercy stopped, she was rambling. Flynn was engrossed in her words, his face taut. The plane rocked and shuddered through the storm. Flynn was silent, his hand loosened on hers.

  Shit, I’ve blown it— Mercy thought. She dug deep, “So there you have it, that’s my dark medical secret, out in the open. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me—”

  Flynn’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean Mercy? You’re mine, we belong together. I’ve always known you were special, hell we’re both special, we’re survivors, we look after each other, we—” Flynn searched for the right word, “we work together, that’s all.” He stopped and reached up to her face, staring into her eyes. He kissed her and put his arms around her.

  “I thought you’d hate me for being… not normal,” Mercy blurted out.

  “There’s no such thing as normal Mercy, never has been. We’ve got each other, against all the odds we’ve found each other and I’m not letting anything take you away from me. The NSA, Cobalt Biotech, President Mitchell, anyone. You got that?”

  Mercy smiled, “Received, loud and clear.”

  A flash lit up the cabin, the plane lurched and fell through the air. Oxygen masks dropped from the overhead panel. Mercy looked out the window and saw flames licking at the starboard engine. The plane plummeted and went into a spin. Smoke filled the cabin, sparks flew from the control panel in the cockpit.

  Garrett’s voice rang out over the loudspeaker, “Buckle up everyone, we’re going down, still got one engine but it’s failing and we’ve lost hydraulics—”

  Mercy looked over at Stevie then back at Tawny and Rose. They were in their seats, eyes wide. Stevie wore his oxygen mask and was in the brace position. Garrett fought the controls and after what seemed like an age he pulled the plane out of the dive and levelled out. Mercy looked through the window and saw the ground rushing by. Flynn held onto her hand.

  It’s coming, anytime now— Mercy braced for the crash landing. The impact was like a physical blow. She was thrown against the seatbelt and back against her chair, her head hit the headrest. Stars exploded around her, everything went black.

  “Mercy, Mercy, come on, wake up, we’ve gotta move,” Flynn’s voice cut through Mercy’s dream. She opened her eyes, her skin was wet. Where am I? She looked around, confused. Flynn was pulling at her seatbelt, she was suspended upside down, a slick salty taste in her mouth. Her seatbelt buckle clicked and she fell onto the ceiling of the Twin Otter. The plane had broken apart, wind and rain tore through the wreckage.

  Mercy saw what was left of the plane. Her memory returned and she reached for Flynn. “What about the others?”

  “Tawny, Rose and Stevie are out, I’m not sure about Garrett or Claire. Come on, we need to move, there’s aviation fuel everywhere,” Flynn helped Mercy through the remains of the cabin, “There’s a way down, here—”

  “But we’ve got to go back for Garrett and Claire—”

  “There’s no time Mercy, move—”

  Flynn pushed Mercy through the exit onto the grass outside. Hands reached for her and pulled her away from the wreckage. Flynn threw himself through the door and stumbled after her. The smell of aviation fuel hung in the air. Tawny dragged Mercy away from the wreckage through the driving rain. Stevie and Rose were sheltering under a stand of trees in the distance.

  Without warning a huge explosion erupted blowing Mercy and Tawny to their feet. The heat from the blast enveloped Mercy, her vision blurred, she clawed at the soil trying to hide. Shards of metal and debris rained down from above.

  Flynn? Where’s Flynn?

  Mercy looked up, through the rain and smoke. Flynn lay on his stomach a few feet away, his clothes blackened, his hair singed. She rose to her knees and crawled over to him. A secondary explosion shook the ground, Mercy threw herself across Flynn to protect him, he moved beneath her.

  He’s alive—

  Mercy ignored the heat from the burning plane and pressed her hand to the side of Flynn’s face.

  “Flynn, are you OK? It’s Mercy, come on, speak to me—” her voice cracked.

  Flynn’s eyes opened. He focused on the ground then pushed his hand against the dirt and rolled over.

  “Yeah, I’m OK, at least I think so. What the hell happened?”

  “Lightning strike on the plane, crash landing, boom, here we are,” Mercy shrugged.

  “Bad day at the office then,” Flynn sat up and looked around. “Where are the others?”

  Mercy pointed at the stand of trees, “Stevie and Rose are over there I think. Tawny was with me a second ago—”

  Tawny appeared out of the billowing smoke, her face blackened but otherwise unscathed. “Someone mention my name? I’m a bad penny, me, keep coming back for more of this shit—”

  “What about Garrett and Claire?” Mercy looked back at the burning wreckage, “I don’t know—”

  “We gotta look for them, but we’ve also got to get away from here, every trope in a five klick radius will be drawn to these flames—” Flynn stood up and patted down his blackened shirt. “Just as well it’s raining, difficult for us to catch fire in this deluge.”

  They walked over to the trees. Stevie and Rose appeared unharmed. They headed back towards the plane combing the ground.

  Five minutes later Rose’s voice rang out. “Over here, it’s them.”

  Mercy rushed across. Claire was sprawled on the ground beside Garrett. Both were unmoving, she felt for Garrett’s pulse, “He’s alive.” She crawled over to Claire and felt her neck, “Claire’s alive too, we need to get them away from here.”

  Stevie, Flynn and Tawny arrived. Tawny stepped forwards, “You’re supposed to immobilise the neck and spine if someone’s unconscious but we haven’t got much choice,” she looked at the burning plane. “We’ve got to move them to safety—”

  “Agreed,” let’s do it. I’ll climb that tree and see if I can spot anything, do you think you can wake them up?” Mercy asked.

  Tawny and Stevie started talking to Garrett and Claire. Flynn gave Mercy a boost into the tree’s lower branches, she climbed up and looked out over the flat landscape. In the distance a tall building stood in a sea of overgrown fields.

  “There’s a barn, over there, not far. We should be able to make it,” Mercy dropped to the ground.

  Flynn put his arm around her shoulders, “Good job.”

  They returned to the others. Garrett was coming around, he looked unscathed. Claire had a nasty gash on her forehead. Tawny had torn a strip off her shirt and was bandaging Claire’s wound. “We need to get her to shelter, I have to give her a proper check over—”

  Garrett was confused, his speech slurred, “The windows vanished, we— we were— thrown through the windows, I did my best.” His eyes fell on Claire, he sat up bringing his hand to his head, he closed his eyes for a few seconds then pulled himself up. He crouched down beside Claire, concern etched on his face. “Let’s go, I’ve got this—” he lifted her gently, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. The rain intensified.

  Mercy seized the moment. “OK follow me, there’s a barn in this direction, it’s our best bet.” She started walking, they needed to move, they needed purpose. If they could get to shelter and warmth they would figure the rest out.

  The next twenty minutes seemed to take forever. Garrett staggered, nearly dropping Claire, finally he allowed Flynn to carry Claire. Mercy glanced back and encouraged them on.

  One unconscious, one likely concussion, but all alive, that’s got to be some kind of miracle right there—

  The barn loomed out of the grey landscape ahead.

  Let’s see if our luck holds—

  They arrived at the side of the barn and made their way around to the front. The doors were closed, a small door lay within the huge main doors. Mercy drew the Beretta from its holster, its weight reassuring in her hand, the clip was full. She was the only one who was armed, the others had lost their weapons in the crash. She looked at Flynn and Tawny.


  “Give me a minute to check this place out—”

  They nodded and Mercy reached for the latch on the door. It opened. Rain sluiced down her nose and chin as she stepped across the threshold into the darkness. She wished she had a torch, daylight streamed in behind her. She squinted, unseeing, the Beretta held out in front of her. She listened and gave her eyes time to adapt to the dark.

  No stench, that’s a start—

  She paused, taking slow, controlled breaths.

  No movement—

  Mercy’s eyes adjusted, she made out shapes and outlines. Stalls on her right and left, a huge machine in the middle of the barn, rafters above, the smell of oil and diesel. The barn was dry, the floor beneath her feet firm. She took a few more steps into the space then walked beside the machine. Her hand traced its form, its lines were smooth. Her brain tried to decipher the shape in the poor light.

  Farm machinery—

  Mercy came to the front of the machine and saw the reel and cutter bar.

  Combine harvester, of course—

  She made out a work bench and tools and found a table and chairs at the end of the barn. Satisfied there was no threat she returned to the door. The barn was empty, they would rest and wait out the storm. She beckoned the others in.

  “All clear, no tropes or skinnies, there’s a combine harvester and some kind of workshop at the back. Make your way through, I’ll secure the door.”

  The storm raged on. Mercy was relieved as she stared out into the night. At least they would be dry and have shelter.

  Hopefully, the rain will put out the flames on the plane—

  A loud bang shook the barn as lightning struck nearby.

  A shape caught Mercy’s eye. A hundred feet away on the edge of the field stood a crucifix, a body hanging from its crossbar. Mercy cursed, cast her eyes around and shut the door.

  Chapter 16 Warning

  “So what do you think?” Garrett hovered around Tawny as she examined Claire.

  “Her pupils are OK, pulse is strong, breathing’s good, nothing broken, I can’t tell if there’s internal bleeding but she seems stable enough. Looks like she took a blow to the head, she could be out for a while yet. She’ll need someone to watch her until she comes around—”

  If she comes around, Mercy thought.

  “It’s my fault, I should have done more. Maybe if I’d taken a different route,” Garrett looked at Claire. “Where the hell are we anyway? We were thrown off course—”

  “Hold still,” Tawny peeled back the bandage on his arm to examine his wound.

  “Listen it’s not your fault, we were in an electrical storm for Christ’s sake, and a big one at that. You couldn’t outrun it,” Flynn waved his arm at the storm.

  “Yeah, give yourself a break, we’re all alive here,” Rose joined in, “if it hadn’t been for you we’d all be dead.”

  Garrett held his breath as Tawny removed the last layer of cloth from his wound. “Well the storm hit just south of Amarillo, somewhere near Lake Tanglewood, but we were blown off course further south maybe even near Palo Duro Canyon, I don’t know—”

  The others gave him blank looks.

  “Three hundred miles north west of Fort Worth, roughly, maybe, I don’t know—” Garrett’s voice petered out.

  “Hey, we can use this when it gets dark,” Rose held up a storm lantern, she shook it, “feels almost full.”

  I need to keep them busy— “Good job Rose, let’s search this place, see what we can find,” Mercy nodded at Flynn and Stevie. They headed over to the workshop area, Mercy went to the combine harvester, climbed up to the cabin and pressed her face to the glass. It was empty. She opened the door and sat on the driver’s seat. Her eyes roved over the dashboard and controls.

  Steering wheel, joystick and—

  Mercy leaned over, a fire extinguisher and first aid kit were strapped to the side of the chair. She pulled the first aid kit free, then saw a torch in a side pocket.

  Here’s hoping—

  She lifted the torch, it felt empty, she flicked the switch. Nothing, her heart sank.

  Yeah, I know, too much to ask—

  As an afterthought she reached into the side pocket and ran her hands around the bottom, her fingers connected with something. She felt packaging and grabbed the object pulling it out.

  Batteries, unopened, hell yeah, now we’re talking—

  Mercy put the batteries into the torch and tried the switch, the cabin lit up.

  Result—

  Mercy climbed down and spotted an axe and toolbox strapped to the side of the harvester. She took the axe and returned to the others.

  “Here, you could use this,” Mercy handed Tawny the first aid kit.

  Flynn and Stevie were still at the work bench. Rose was nowhere to be seen.

  Tawny pulled a bandage and a tube of antiseptic from the first aid kit. “Looks out of date, but it’s unopened so maybe—” she smeared the cream over Garrett’s wound and applied a fresh dressing.

  Flynn let out a whoop from the back of the barn, he held up a bottle of whiskey waving it in the air. Stevie was carrying a box.

  “What you got there?” Mercy asked as Stevie put the box down beside Claire.

  “Butane blowtorch, nail gun, hammers, screwdrivers, a ton of duct tape, there’s more stuff back there, but we can use these as weapons,” he kicked the box. “There’s some wood too, looks dry, we could light a fire, dry our clothes out.”

  “What are we waiting for?” Mercy put her arm around Stevie’s shoulder and they headed over to Flynn.

  They carried wood to where Claire lay and started building a fire. Flynn found a tarp and some musty blankets. Tawny and Flynn lifted Claire onto the tarp and put the blankets over her.

  “Claire’s cold, you ought to lie beside her,” Flynn said to Garrett, “try and warm her up while we get the fire going.”

  Garrett nodded, lay beside Claire and put his arms around her. Stevie was busy with the blow torch and wood, minutes later they had a fire. The atmosphere changed with the warmth from the flames. The wood crackled and a few sparks rose in the air.

  “Hope we don’t burn the place down,” Tawny said half-jokingly.

  “Doubt it, this place is huge,” Flynn said, looking around, “and the roof’s mostly corrugated iron.”

  The fire crackled and held them mesmerised. Steps came from behind. Rose’s voice broke the spell, “I went to get rainwater,” she held up a container. “There’s a dead guy strung up outside—”

  Mercy closed her eyes. Shit Rose, I wanted to keep that quiet—

  Rose was dripping wet. “And I found this on the ground under him.” She held up a wooden sign, crude handwriting scrawled across it: THIS IS WHAT WE DO TO TRAITORS. DO NOT CROSS THE LA CASA BROTHERHOOD.

  Silence.

  Mercy spoke first, “Just some dumbass losers, like everywhere else. At low tide you can see all the crap, it’s low tide. And guess what? We’re pretty mean too, so they’d better not mess with us—”

  Mercy’s words hit the mark, lightening the atmosphere. Rose grinned and kicked the sign away, “You got that right sister—”

  Mercy smiled.

  “Where am I? What happened?” Claire’s groggy voice surprised them all.

  “Claire? Claire you had us worried, you’ve been out for a while,” Garrett was beaming.

  “Just a shocking headache, otherwise I’m peachy. Could use some water though,” Claire looked at the container in Rose’s hand.

  Rose gave Claire a drink. “I found coffee, looks old but it’s dry, I’ll get a brew on,” Rose disappeared around the side of the combine harvester and returned moments later with a kettle and a jar of instant coffee.

  “You’re a miracle worker Rose,” Flynn said, eyeing the coffee.

  They sat around the fire and waited for the water to boil.

  “La Casa Brotherhood? Mean anything to you Garrett?” Flynn asked.

  “Nada,” Garrett responded.

  �
��Pricks with guns,” Tawny said.

  “Brotherhood has a very different meaning to sisterhood,” Rose declared. “They actually crucified that guy out there. Fuckers.”

  “There are a lot of guns in Texas,” Claire interjected eying Tawny.

  “Yeah, well we only got one gun, a couple of knives and an axe, so we need to keep under everyone’s radar right now. It’s not just the NSA, there’s other bad shit here. The last thing we need is to get involved with some local nut job cult.”

  “Wonder what he did? That guy outside,” Rose said. She added coffee to the kettle and stirred. “Only found two cups so you’ll have to pass them around—” she filled the cups with steaming coffee and handed them out.

  Flynn took a sip and pulled a face, “Your coffee tastes like shit, but good shit, don’t get me wrong.”

  They lapsed into silence. Claire had improved with the water and sat huddled beside the fire, her clothes and hair steaming. Rain pounded the barn’s roof and walls.

  “It’s like the end of the world out there, we’ll need an ark to get out of this one,” Stevie joked.

  “If there’s any fuel in the harvester we could drain it and make petrol bombs. In case we need a little back up. There’s some empty beer bottles in the corner, I’ll go and check it out,” Rose disappeared around the side of the combine harvester.

  “Resourceful, that one,” commented Claire.

  “We train them hard in the Big Apple,” Tawny said, her eyes lost in the fire.

  “We need to scout the surrounding area once the storm’s over, find out where we are,” Mercy said. She looked at Garrett, “The objective’s to get to Galveston right?”

  “Yeah, well it was, by plane, but now?” Garrett shrugged. “Constantine’s nearest forces would be the Texas Rangers in Fort Worth. Last I heard they were resisting the NSA in the north of the state.”

  “So we head to Fort Worth, meet up with your buddies then get to Galveston?” Mercy asked.

  “Seems like the best plan. See if we can find transport along the way,” Garrett looked at Claire.

  “We’re in business,” Rose appeared with an armful of empty beer bottles. “Harvester’s still got at least half a tank of fuel in her.