The Survival Chronicles | Book 8 | Final Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Mercy glanced at Tawny. Tawny gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  OK, so far, so good—

  Mojito opened the passenger and rear doors of the lead pickup truck, “One in front and one in back. I’m driving—” He left Mercy and Tawny to choose seats and walked around to the driver’s door.

  Mercy took the passenger seat and Tawny jumped in the rear.

  He’s trusting us. It’s just him and us in here. Mind you, he’s got a back-up vehicle behind—

  Mojito started the engine and drove the truck through an open gate. They passed a high chain link fence.

  Trope fence. Looks well maintained—

  They swept up a side road and joined the main route leading from London Bridge to the island’s interior.

  “This is McCulloch Boulevard or the main drag as we now call it,” Mojito said, his eyes squinting against the strong sunlight.

  Mercy glanced at him briefly.

  He’s older than I thought. His face is lined, weather beaten. Lived in—

  “So,” Mercy said. “What kind of set up do you have here? How many people have you got? You’ve obviously get fresh water from the lake, but what about food? Power? Security?”

  Mojito kept his eyes on the road. He pulled out a packet of gum and offered it to Mercy. She took a piece and put it in her shirt pocket. Mojito popped a strip of gum in his mouth and began chewing, “Well, you’ll forgive me for not revealing all our secrets to you. But, I can tell you we have twenty families here, and some others. People that were passing through like you and decided to stay. Everyone contributes to the community, everyone has to pull their weight. Everyone is a mouth to feed, so people work hard, and look after each other.”

  Mojito paused to roll down his window. He rested his arm on the door and took his time, driving slowly through the centre of the island. “You see, our response to the Fall has been to make sure our ancestral ways are shared. It is important to know what to plant, when to plant, how to manage water, how to ranch lightly on the land, and how to live together. Survival isn’t just about strength, bunkers and weapons, it’s about community, compassion and… frugality. In a community everyone needs to cooperate and compromise. Everyone needs to get along.”

  Yeah, life is messy, people are complicated and bloody minded. That’s why I survived alone for two years in New York. Trust no one… but then I found Flynn—

  Mojito continued, “We’ve all got scar tissue. We’ve all done things, bad things. But when you’re part of a community you can share and begin to heal. Share the burden of pain and guilt for those you’ve lost along the way.”

  Mercy looked out the windscreen at the land. Irrigation channels were evenly placed, sending a steady trickle of water to the rows of vegetables on either side of the road.

  Mercy’s eyes lit up when she saw a field of corn. “Hey, you’ve got corn,” she said, her voice full of wonder.

  “You like corn?” Mojito said.

  Mercy shrugged, “Who doesn’t?”

  “We can have some, if you like,” Mojito responded. He paused, “I’ll let you into a secret if you like.”

  Mercy glanced at him.

  “We’ve got honey bees here, we make our own honey. It’s real good on hot buttered corn. I’ll rustle some up for us,” Mojito said.

  My god, they’ve got honey? They’ve got their act together—

  “This is Beachcomber Boulevard, the casino’s just over there,” Mojito said, pointing at a large, three story building. Lake Havasu sparkled a short distance away.

  Impressive setting. This would be paradise for some people—

  Mojito drove the pickup through a carpark up to the casino’s front entrance. He stopped the engine, “Here we are, come on, let’s go in and I can show you around…” Mojito glanced at Tawny in the rear view mirror, “and yes, we can meet my son.”

  Mercy’s stomach rumbled as she got out of the pickup.

  All that talk of food—

  The second pickup truck pulled up and five people emerged; three men and two women. They carried side arms and wore knives on their belts. Two of the men had Stetsons, the rest wore baseball caps. They hung back and watched as Mercy and Tawny followed Mojito.

  They passed through large glass doors into a marble floored atrium. A massive modern crystal chandelier hung from a high vaulted ceiling.

  Light and airy. It’s huge. Impressive—

  “We’re in luck, I can smell cooking. Come on, follow me,” Mojito said, leading the way to the back of the atrium.

  They came to a carpeted corridor and continued along it, glancing into rooms as they passed.

  Offices, store rooms, staff area—

  The rooms had been repurposed for communal living. Some were obviously used by individual families, with adult and children’s beds evident. They passed two workshops with benches, car parts, and various tools on display.

  Looks like they can repair their vehicles. Nice—

  They entered a wide, high ceilinged room with rows of chairs. The smell of cooking grew stronger.

  Dining hall—

  Mojito stopped and inhaled, “Actually, that smells like this evening’s meal. Come on, you might want to forgo my sorry attempt at cooking after we see what Sierra has to offer.”

  Mojito swept through the room and entered the modern kitchen behind. Five teenagers and two adults were chopping and preparing food on stainless steel surfaces. Several large cooking pots sat on gas hobs, and something was cooking in a large rotisserie.

  Mercy stopped, “Wait, what? You’ve got power?”

  Mojito smiled, “Sure, we’ve got solar on the roof, and diesel generators. We also have a solid fuel option which is a useful back up when we can’t source diesel.” He turned to an older woman staring at them over half rimmed glasses. “Sierra, these are the people I told you about. I’m showing them around. What have you got on offer?”

  The woman took a long look at Mercy and Tawny then turned to one of the large steaming pots, “I got Mexican chicken and rice here. It’s good to go, the others will be in soon. Your timing’s just right, you want some?”

  Mojito glanced at Mercy and Tawny. “That’ll be a yes,” he said, filling in the awkward silence.

  Sierra ladled food into three bowls and handed them to Mojito on a tray, “Enjoy.”

  Mojito nodded, “Thank you Sierra, this will put fire in our bellies. Blessings sister—”

  Mercy glanced at Tawny. They followed Mojito back into the dining hall. The three men and two women from the second pickup truck were seated at a table a discrete distance away.

  Keeping tabs on us. Fair enough—

  Mojito put the tray of food down on their table, “I’m just going to get some water and forks. Please, take a seat.” He turned and walked over to a separate table laden with jugs of water, dishes, and cutlery.

  Mercy sat down beside Tawny, “What do you think Tawny?”

  Tawny pulled a face, “He certainly talks the talk. I’ll admit, it’s looking OK so far. I just need a dose of reality, a little bit extra. It’s all too good to be true so far. There’s always pain and misery in these places. I reckon we’re getting the sanitised version—”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. Still, this food looks good and if he eats it I will,” Mercy replied.

  Mojito returned with water and cutlery, “Here you go guys, tuck in. Enjoy.”

  Mercy poured water for herself and Tawny. She picked up her fork. They watched as Mojito attacked his food with gusto.

  Good enough for me—

  Mercy followed his example and started eating.

  This is good. No… it’s delicious—

  Tawny began eating and beat Mojito, finishing first. She drained her water and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  Jesus Tawny—

  “Good? Yes? What did I tell you about Sierra’s cooking? Nature provides,” Mojito said. He paused then leaned forwards, “I believe there are two types of survival; short term
survival and long term survival. We’re keeping an eye on the long game here. Don’t get me wrong, wilderness survival skills certainly can’t hurt but it’ll be empathy, generosity, and courage that we’ll need to survive. Goodwill, honesty, and unity will be more valuable than any survival skill. Social and leadership skills are also crucial. We need to work together. We need to grow food, educate ourselves, and give people a reason to live. Going forwards people’s needs will be enormous, and we can’t shy away from that. Humans evolved traits like generosity, compassion, and collaborative working because they are the essence of survival. We have to face our new reality with these skills. We will rise to the challenge, and we will solve problems together. That is our only hope. That is what shared survival looks like—”

  Nice speech—

  Mercy nodded, “Very good, makes sense. What about people politics though? Wherever there’s people, there’s trouble. Plenty of trouble. People are trouble. Hard power, soft power. Hawks and doves. Young bucks, old stallions. There’s always greed and conflict… and competition, and that’s where people always screw it up.”

  Jesus, where did that come from?

  “You’re right, you can’t have light without darkness. We have our struggles here too, it’s not all good. If you’re both done, come with me, there’s something I want to show you,” Mojito said, standing up.

  Mojito led the way. They climbed the stairs to the third floor, then took the access stairs to the roof. They walked out onto the casino’s flat roof. Two guards greeted Mojito, they exchanged some words.

  Mojito turned to Mercy and Tawny, “My brothers here are vigilant, there is a good view from up here, don’t you agree? We can see across the city and the lake. We can see to the north and south. We are as prepared as we can be, and if one day it is all taken away from us we still have the land and the mountains to the west.” Mojto gestured at the western horizon. He paused then ushered them over to the edge of the roof. He picked up a pair of binoculars and focused them on the western side of the island. He gave the binoculars to Mercy, “Here take these… look over there.”

  OK, what’s this?

  Mercy hesitated then took the binoculars. She brought them to her eyes and scanned the fields.

  Oh, OK. There, right there. There’s the pain and suffering. I get it—

  Chapter 23

  Little Fox

  “That’s some graveyard,” Mercy said, handing the binoculars to Tawny.

  Mojito grunted, “Yes, our people have suffered, just as many others have done. This town, this city,” he waved at Lake Havasu City, “after the Fall it was ugly. Me and my family, and some others, we left and went to live in the mountains to the west of here. The first winter was hard but the land took us back with open arms, the old ways returned to our hands. We were able to survive, but it took nearly two years for the undead in the city to burn themselves out. They weakened or the desert took them. Once, a huge herd of them appeared out of a dust storm from down south. I reckon they’d come up from Mexico—”

  Tawny handed the binoculars back, “So the tropes grew weak?”

  Mojito nodded, “Most of them. There was a feeding frenzy in the early days after the Fall. The city population was around fifty or sixty thousand. Hundreds of thousands of tourists used to visit here every year, the city was packed when the virus struck. I lost a lot of good friends, people I’d known for a long time, people I’d grown up with. We met other families in the mountains, and joined with other survivors. We have Mohave, Hopi, and Navajo among us. We are all one family now. Once the infection died down we moved to this island, and worked to make it secure. We lost more people and gained some, people like you, people passing through, from the north and west mostly. This is our home now. We grow our own food, and have our own water as you can see. We know nothing is permanent and we may have to leave here, but for now, for the moment, we call the island our home—”

  “For now—” Tawny repeated Mojito’s words. “In my experience, those who keep moving are the ones that survive, it’s those who stay in one place that die.”

  Mercy sighed, “Yes, Tawny, you’re right, but I would hope one day people… communities can put down roots and stop running. Look at this place, look at Brody’s camp back in the Appalachians. Look at where we’re going to—”

  Mojito raised an eyebrow, “Where are you headed to?”

  Mercy took a breath, “We want to get west, to the Pacific coast. We’ve got people to meet out there—”

  Mojito pursed his lips, “That’s some journey, a lot of hard ground to cross. The roads are… dangerous.”

  “Yes, your father told us about the Phoenix bandits,” Tawny said.

  “Yes, there are the bandits but there are also many undead out there, from the west coast. They’re still strong and their numbers are huge. We used to see armies of them on the plains when we were in the mountains,” Mojito said. He paused, “There are the ghost people too—”

  “Ghost people?” Tawny asked.

  “Yes,” Mojito said, he looked away. “We don’t like to speak of them but there are people who have developed a taste for undead flesh. Starvation brings with it a form of madness. Desperation makes men do unnatural things—”

  “Cannibals?” Tawny said, curling her lip in disgust. “Yeah, we’ve come across them before.”

  Mercy shook her head, “Cannibals yes, but I’ve never come across anyone that eats trope flesh. Surely they’d get the virus?”

  Mojito looked away, “They cook the flesh first—”

  Mercy frowned.

  How come he knows so much about this?

  She glanced at Tawny.

  “Have you come across any of these ghost people yourself?” Tawny asked.

  Mojito hesitated, “I know one of them. My brother Morgan, I tried to help him but the hunger was too great for him. He changed, became addicted to that flesh. I don’t know if he’s still alive, my father believes so. He may still be out there. So, you see, you need to be careful in the desert. It is haunted by madness.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your brother,” Mercy said.

  Mojito nodded, “It is what it is. All things shall pass, as they say. Come on, enough of the grim tales, let’s go and see Little Fox and some of the others who are benefiting from your medicine. Did I mention we have a doctor and two nurses here, on the island? I’ll take you to them.”

  They followed Mojito down the stairs and through the building to a new area. Rows of beds had been placed where once craps and blackjack tables had stood. Some of the beds were screened. Mercy caught a glimpse of a drip stand and an oxygen cylinder. Mojito paused outside one of the screens, he parted it, and peered inside.

  “Ah ha, you’re awake,” Mojito said, he stepped in to the bedside.

  Mercy and Tawny waited outside. A muffled conversation came from behind the screen. Mojito was speaking with a woman, her voice was low and calm.

  A short time later Mojito appeared and gestured at Mercy and Tawny, “Come in and meet my wife and son.”

  Mercy stepped forwards and entered the screened off area. Mojito made room for her. A young boy lay in the bed, his face curious. A woman was sitting in a chair, she smiled at Mercy.

  “This is my wife June and my son Xavier, everyone calls him Little Fox,” Mojito said, pride in his voice. “June tells me his fever has broken, and his wound is less angry. He has had something to eat too, his first food in three days.”

  The boy was nine or ten years old. His thick black hair stuck up at all angles, his eyes were bright and flicked from Mercy to Tawny as they approached his bed.

  Ah, here is this man’s family. This is genuine, this is real. There are no lies here—

  Mercy glanced at Tawny and saw the change in her friend’s eyes.

  Tawny gets it too. Children are a man’s truth—

  Little Fox reached out to Tawny, “My mother says I am to thank you for bringing me the medicine.”

  Tawny brushed past Mercy and sat
on the edge of the bed. She took the boy’s hand and smiled, “Hey there Little Fox, it’s good to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from your father. I’m glad the medicine is helping. How are you feeling?”

  Little Fox glanced at his mother then looked at Tawny, “I’m a lot better now. I had bad dreams for a while and my leg hurt, but now it’s not as bad, and the nightmares have gone away. Thank you for finding me the medicine.”

  They seem to have hit it off—

  A cloud passed over Little Fox’s face. “You’re like me, except your pain is different. You need to get rid of your bad dreams, you need some medicine too. Don’t worry, it’s coming to you, and sooner than you know.”

  Tawny raised her eyebrows then squeezed Little Fox’s hand, “Yeah, me and my nightmares ain’t been on speaking terms lately. It’d be good to see the back of them. I reckon we all need some good medicine after the stuff we’ve been through.” Tawny paused and glanced over at Little Fox’s mother. Tawny turned back to Little Fox and lowered her voice, “Your mom and dad are lucky to have you in their lives. You’re gonna get stronger every day now, I can feel it. It’s all gonna be good—”

  Little Fox beamed at Tawny, “You’re a special lady, and yes you’re right, it’s gonna be good for you too.”

  They’ve bonded big time, there’s some kind of connection there—

  Mojito interjected, “My son, the great seer. He’s an old soul in a young body. He’s predicted things before; like storms, and good places to hunt and fish. It rubs some people up the wrong way but I say just keep an open mind.”

  Tawny smiled at Little Fox’s mother, “No, it’s OK. We’re good on this, ain’t we, buddy?” She squeezed Little Fox’s hand once more before letting it go.

  “We’re good,” Little Fox repeated. He looked at his father, “Dad? Can you read to me again tonight?”

  Mojito nodded at Little Fox, “Sure son. I’ll see you later. I’ve got some business to do with our guests here, then I’ll be right back. Make sure you do everything that Dr Jackson says.”

  Little Fox nodded, “I will.”