Quick, be quick, get to the top—
She crawled to the base of the buoy’s tower and stood clinging to its ladder. The tower was at least thirty feet high and surrounded by solar panels, she started climbing keeping her eyes fixed on each rung. She counted each step, fighting the wind, tasting the salt air. The buoy rocked back and forth with the waves.
Mercy reached the top of the tower and climbed up beside the beacon light and aerial mast. She frowned, the life raft was drifting away. She turned and looked to the horizon her hand held up to shield her eyes. She froze; she saw land. It was difficult to judge the distance but it was land.
I could reach it. I just need time to think, to prepare—
She looked back at the life raft.
Get back now—
Mercy climbed down the ladder and reached the bottom of the tower. She noticed an orange box at its base. She opened it and found a mooring rope and tools. Without thinking she attached the metal clip at the end of the mooring rope to the ladder and tied the rope around her waist. She took a deep breath, jumped into the water and swam towards the life raft. Ten minutes later she was back on the raft breathless and exhausted. She secured the mooring line to the raft and collapsed onto the floor.
Mercy gathered her thoughts. The immersion suit had saved her again. She looked at the buoy and calculated, the weather had improved, land was close. If she stayed on the raft she could end up drifting away from land, she could not allow that to happen. She had a visual on land, this was her chance, she would rehydrate, take a little food, rest, then strike out towards land. She could float and swim in bursts.
It’ll work, it’ll have to—
Mercy felt calm, it was decided. She drank three sachets of water and ate an energy bar then rested for a while. She put spare water and food into her clothes together with the flares then readied the immersion suit, securing the zips, hood and visor. She pulled on the mooring rope bringing the raft close to the buoy then she slipped into the rolling waves.
Here goes nothing—
Chapter 12 Locked In
The sea took Mercy in its grip, she watched the buoy and the life raft recede. Doubt ran through her mind; maybe she should have sunk the raft? The New State Army could find it, they might figure out what she had done. It was too late, the die was cast.
Concentrate on swimming—
Mercy floated on her back, kicked her legs and used her arms to propel herself through the waves. The buoy disappeared from view, she felt lonely, she had lost her last link with humanity. Daylight was fading fast.
Maybe I should’ve waited until the morning? No, it was now or never—
Mercy continued to push herself, she tried swimming on her front but it was easier to swim on her back in the suit. As long as she moved she was warm, as soon as she stopped to rest cold began to creep into her body.
I might as well be in space—
As if to confirm her thoughts the sky darkened and the North Star appeared. The last remnants of daylight slipped over the horizon and the temperature plunged.
Keep going, keep going Mercy girl. I’ll look out for you, I’m with you all the way—
Mercy felt her arms and legs weaken, the cold was comforting, it reached out for her through the immersion suit. She stopped swimming.
Just a little rest, a few minutes—
She closed her eyes, the cold felt warm, inviting. She felt herself drawn in, disappearing in its velvet embrace. Something brushed against her, she ignored it, something brushed against her legs, then her head. Her eyelids flickered open, a last vestige of curiosity remaining. The sea was luminescent, she focused on the water and saw shapes, hundreds, thousands of floating shapes.
Jellyfish? Jellyfish, yes that’s what they are. Am I dreaming? A shoal of jellyfish, no that’s not right, it’s a… bloom of jellyfish isn’t it?
And then, in the distance she saw a light, flashing.
There’s the buoy doing its job, exactly where it should be— exactly where it should be.
The words echoed in her head; exactly where it should be. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her.
Snap out of it, swim, keep moving, keep swimming—
Mercy tried to swim but ended up thrashing in the water, she was convinced her efforts were ineffectual but she kept going. Then she noticed the jellyfish and the flashing light were gone.
This is it then, just you and me North Star. Well I’ll bet I’m not the first person this has happened to. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be the last. It’s not such a bad end after all, just drifting off to sleep—
Mercy closed her eyes and felt her heart slowing accompanied by a rushing noise in her head. The rushing sound became louder, she opened her eyes and saw white water and crashing waves. A surge of exploding surf burst around her, dragging and pulling, then a soft yielding surface touched her feet, then her back and shoulders.
Sand, a beach, land—
Words tumbled into her head, their meaning slow to follow.
Land—
Mercy’s eyes widened in understanding, her consciousness returned from the brink.
Land—
She rolled over onto her front and saw the water receding from the beach, grains of sand lay inches from her face. Surf pounded on either side, another wave broke propelling her further. Instinct kicked in and she crawled, like a turtle, up the beach. Finally, her vision faded and her strength gave out, she collapsed unconscious on the shoreline.
Mercy was back in the orphanage with Amy and Carrie. They had just climbed through the dorm window after their midnight adventure on the streets. They had been free for those precious few hours, away from the adults that controlled every aspect of their lives. She was with her best friends, Amy and Carrie were her life, her family.
Oh, please let this have been a dream; the pandemic, the Fall, the tropes, the freaks and skinnies. Say it’s a dream Amy, say it’s a dream Carrie—
Amy and Carrie stopped laughing and stared at her, their smiles gone. Their skin changed, becoming swollen and blistered. Their faces were gaunt, their teeth prominent. Their eyes changed, bulging and bursting over the sockets; the early news reports had used the medical term “ectropion”. Tropes— Amy and Carrie came for her, their arms outstretched. Mercy reached towards them, her arms resembled theirs, the skin red and blistered. She turned to look at her reflection in the dorm window. Her reflection screamed, a silent scream, full of despair and horror. She was the same as them; a trope, caught in the season of death.
A noise. A tugging on her arm. A squawk.
Mercy’s eye lids fluttered. White clouds scudded across an azure sky, a beach, white sand stinging her face, reaching into her nose and mouth. She was aware of movement beside her left arm. She turned and saw a seagull. It was huge, she locked eyes with it for a second then jerked away. The seagull squawked and flapped its wings, retreating.
“Get away, go on get away. I’m not dead yet you bastard—”
Mercy’s words pierced the air and her own consciousness. Her throat was dry, her voice a croak, not like her voice at all. But the words were hers, she had thought and articulated them.
I’m not dead, I am alive—
Mercy sat up. The seagull took to the air, her eyes followed it out to sea. Realisation hit her hard.
I’ve made it.
Something welled up inside her, like the waves crashing on the shore. She wept tears of joy.
I’m alive, I’m alive. I’ve really made it—
Early morning sun hung low in the sky, sea mist bathed the coastline. She lay in a clear pocket with reasonable visibility out to sea.
Get up, get inland, get cover, this could be Sable Island, find shelter, hide—
Mercy removed the immersion suit. She rolled it up and carried it with her, a wall of dunes lay before her, marram grass rustling in the wind. She climbed the nearest dune, her limbs heavy after the weightlessness of the water. She pulled the parka tight as she reached the top, a few minutes passe
d and her breathing settled, she sunk to her knees lost in thought.
Which way?
Mercy unzipped her coat, took out a water sachet and drank it, then she ate an energy bar. The sea mist lifted on her right and she could see further along the dunes.
Right it is then—
She began walking along the dunes watching for any sign of life. The going was tough, the sand sapped her energy but it was more sheltered than the shoreline. She lost track of time but pushed on eventually reaching a dune higher than all the others.
Get up it Mercy girl, better view from the top—
Mercy forced herself up the dune crawling the last few feet. She reached the top and collapsed. She lifted her head to look around. Below, in a wide hollow she saw a group of about twenty horses, mares and their foals. They looked windswept, like the island, they were feeding on the grass, some were drinking water from shallow holes they had scraped in the sand.
Beautiful, just beautiful—
Mercy stared, lost in the moment. The horses were calm, content, well fed. Here was life as it should be, natural, not corrupted by mankind. Mercy watched the horses for twenty minutes and then noticed new arrivals joining the group, they entered the open area from a trail winding through the dunes.
Thank you horses, I’ll use your trail if you don’t mind—
The sea mist lifted briefly, Mercy’s eyes flicked to the far side of the dunes, more sea lay half a mile away. Sea on both sides, a narrow island, sand everywhere.
If there are horses maybe there’ll be people—
Mercy stood up and wound her way down the dune’s lee slope giving the horses a wide berth. They were not disturbed by her presence and continued feeding on the grass. Mercy reached the trail and followed it, she looked at the ground but saw only hoof prints, no human footprints. She continued on and after a period the trail rose over a low bluff, she reached the top after twenty minutes.
She froze. A cluster of white buildings lay below her. One with a dome like an observatory, another had a tower, there was a two storey building in the centre and three, single storey buildings along one side. Smoke rose from two chimneys.
People—
Then Mercy saw the flag, the same flag she had seen at Montauk Point lighthouse.
New State Army—
She cursed and dropped to the ground hidden by the marram grass, its sharp points digging through her trousers.
Bastards— is this Sable Island? It has to be. Flynn and the others could be in one of those buildings— why are there no guards?
Mercy watched for a few minutes, in the distance engine noise rose above the wind. She squinted her eyes and saw movement in the dunes on the far side of the settlement, a jeep emerged from a rough track. It carried four uniformed men armed with rifles and swords. The jeep pulled up outside the towered building, the men got out and went inside.
I need to get closer—
Mercy withdrew from the edge and dropped height. She skirted the bluff and entered a low section of dunes which flanked the buildings. A jeep track wound through the dunes, she stopped to check no one was watching. A faded sign stood on one side of the track, it was covered in sand. She stooped down and brushed it with her hand, its words reached out to her: SABLE ISLAND NATIONAL PARK RESERVE, PARKS CANADA.
Sable Island, I’m here. Flynn’s here—
Mercy fell to her knees staring at the sign in disbelief. She had to make it work, she had to find a way. She would go in at night, see what she could find out, meantime she would hide in the dunes; watch and observe. She crossed the track and continued exploring. Over the course of the afternoon she completed two circuits of the settlement. From the highest point she confirmed the island was long and narrow, less than a mile wide.
The NSA would have a way of getting supplies in, she guessed it was by air. The sea mist burned off as the day progressed, they probably used light aircraft on the beaches or possibly a helicopter. She drank the last of her water and ate the last energy bar. There were no tropes on the island otherwise there would be guards, fences, machine guns, lights. This place was cut off from the rest of the world, safe. There had been four men in the jeep and she had seen two others in civilian clothes walking around the base. The station could accommodate many more than that.
Mercy recalled what she had been told. It’s a holding area, quarantine, a research station, not a military base. There’ll be guards but it’s primarily a scientific facility. I can’t take them on, I’m not armed. My only ace is they don’t know I’m here, they think I’m dead—
Mercy watched the buildings for the rest of the evening, pondering her options. At last night fell, the temperature dropped and the wind intensified. Sand stung her face and eyes. She buried the immersion suit marking the spot with a pile of rocks. She steeled herself and picked her way down the low bluffs in the dark.
The buildings loomed ahead, she shielded her eyes and made her way towards the nearest one. It was shrouded in darkness with shuttered windows, it looked unoccupied. She made her way along one side peering through cracks in the shutters. She found the front door and tried the handle, it was locked, she moved on to the two storeyed building at the centre of the settlement.
Light spilled out from cracks in its shutters. She reached the first window and squinted through a crack to see a large room with tables and chairs. A pool table lay on one side and she could just make out a stove in the corner. Someone passed the window on the inside, she pulled back then looked through the crack a few seconds later. She saw two men, one bearded the other clean shaven, both wearing NSA uniforms.
Mercy pulled away and moved to the next window at the rear of the building. Light filtered out through the shutters, she pressed her eye to a crack and looked in. More movement, the window was steamed up, the smell of hot food filtered out through a vent. Mercy’s stomach rumbled, she closed her eyes and backed away from the window.
Cigarette smoke. A male voice shouting above the wind, “Wondered when you’d show up bitch.”
Mercy turned to face the voice. A dark shape loomed followed by sudden movement and a sharp sting in her neck.
Her legs gave way beneath her and she succumbed to the blackness.
Chapter 13 Lost Hope
“How long is it now?”
“About three hours by that clock.”
“Wonder how much sedative they gave her.”
“Enough.”
Mercy heard the voices through a thick chemical fog. Her arms and legs felt heavy, each breath was an effort. The voices were familiar, names surfaced in her memory.
Was that? No— it’s just a dream.
“She looks pretty beat up—”
Rose, that was Rose’s voice and the other—
“Don’t think they hit her, she’s too valuable to them, remember what they said?”
Tawny? I’m imagining it, it’s the drugs. I’m hallucinating.
“Don’t believe a word those bastards told us, look what they did to Flynn and Stevie.”
Damn, that’s Rites’s voice. Mercy fought against the chemical restraint. What did Rites mean? What had they done to Flynn? She had to know but she couldn’t break free. Darkness welled up surrounding her, she felt it pulling her back into the abyss.
Noises, cold air, footsteps. A sharp sting in her arm.
“That’ll bring her round. The asset is still alive inside her, which is good, they’ll be pleased back at base. Have you got the samples?”
“Yeah, we’re all good. Her immune system has responded to the parasite, her antibodies are strong. We may be able to bring forward the field tests.”
“Can you imagine if it actually works? We’ll be able to walk among them, kill them, farm them, harvest them. It’ll be a game changer.”
“Not before time.”
“Damn right. Take her back to the cells. We’re done here. We’ve got a weather window tomorrow, chopper’s expected late morning.”
“Right, I’ll take her back, you get
things ready here.”
Movement, noise, cold air, lights.
Mercy felt herself rising from a deep well. She was travelling a great distance, her head swam, a metallic taste lined her mouth, pins and needles exploded in her hands and feet. More noise, doors opening, keys, voices.
“Transfer her to the bed.”
“What have you done to her?”
Rose? Mercy felt herself being lifted, hands grabbed her shoulders and legs. Her eyelids fluttered.
“She’s coming round.”
“Good, we’ll give her some time.”
Clanking, banging, the sound of keys, doors closing. Silence.
“Mercy? Mercy? Are you OK? It’s me, Rose. Can you hear me?”
Mercy blinked, the light hurt her eyes. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, it felt swollen.
“Rose?” Mercy croaked, moving her head to one side, disorientated.
“Yes it’s me, Rose. There’s water on the table beside you, I can’t reach you, I’m locked up over here. God, it’s great to see you, we thought you were—”
Mercy closed her eyes and waited for her head to stop spinning. She lifted her hand and felt for the side of the bed. She swung her leg over the edge and leaned up on one side. Her eyes opened, she saw the bars of her cell and a small table with a jug of water and a plastic cup. She waited until her head cleared then sat up and poured herself a drink. The water tasted good but did not banish the metallic taste. She turned and saw Rose peering at her from another cell.
“Rose, it’s so good to see you.” Mercy said.
Rose nodded. “You’re back with us. There’s just me, Tawny and Rites left here and now you.”
Mercy frowned. “What do you mean? Where’s Flynn, Stevie and Dakota?”
Rose looked down. “They took them away, to the mainland. Halifax they told us. They had plans for them, don’t ask me what, I don’t know.”
Mercy looked at the room, the cell walls were built from breeze blocks with bars welded together and driven into the concrete floor. The room was damp and cold, water dripped from the ceiling.
The Survival Chronicles (Book 2): Angel of Mercy Page 10
