The Survival Chronicles | Book 8 | Final Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Sixty miles to Long Beach. And… one hundred and twenty miles to the naval base. Shit, we’re up against it. That’s a long way. A lot of stuff could happen in those miles—

  Mercy closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

  Still, Barnes’s idea of getting to the coast and figuring something out sounds worth it. It’d be safer to do the sixty miles to Long Beach and maybe find a boat and sail up the coast to Point Mugu. He is a Navy SEAL after all and that’s his bread and butter—

  An hour later Flynn poked his head around the door. “Thought I heard you in here. How are you feeling?” He came over and embraced Mercy.

  “I’m a lot better. So long as I can get sleep and food, my body seems to bounce back. How about you? What’s your biotech doing?” Mercy asked.

  Flynn shook his head, “The superfast thing is there. I can figure out things real quick. Barnes calls it situational awareness. I guess I’m pretty alert except when I’m asleep. Rose though… you should’ve seen her the other night when we were coming through Moreno Valley. Her night vision is awesome, she sees stuff the rest of us can’t see. And Tawny, she was able to steer us away from most of the trope hotspots. She’s like radar; real useful, especially when there’s buildings all around.”

  Mercy sighed, “There’s good and bad in it. I don’t know what it’s doing to our bodies. Cobalt Biotech sure didn’t have health and safety in mind when they developed this biotech. They were looking for short term results after all. I don’t know how much time we’ve got left before this… parasite does irreversible damage to our bodies. It might already be too late. But we’ll use its benefits to get to where we’re going. Then we’ll cross the next bridge—”

  “Yeah, Rose’s nightmares have been getting worse, and your migraines have been pretty bad. Tawny was getting angry a lot but Travis seems to have helped her a bit. Annalise’s got her memory problems… and me? I don’t know exactly, I can’t put my finger on it but there’s something there.”

  Mercy’s eyes narrowed, “What? What do you mean? What have you noticed?”

  Flynn pulled a face, “Oh, it’s only happened once or twice. I’m not even sure it’s related—”

  “What?” Mercy persisted. “It’s important for us to know each other’s weaknesses so we can watch each other’s backs.”

  Flynn pulled away and looked up at the ceiling. He hesitated, “I— I hear voices.”

  Mercy stared at Flynn, processing his words. “You… hear voices? What kind of voices?”

  Flynn shook his head, “I don’t know. Like I said, it’s only happened once or twice. Well, OK, three times, but it freaked me out. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

  “And—?” Mercy pressed.

  “Dead people,” Flynn whispered. He sighed and closed his eyes. “I hear dead people, people we’ve lost along the way. Dimitri’s the most recent. But Stevie, my brother, he’s in there and some of the others too: Leo, Jude, Vince, Rights… even that bitch Laurient.”

  Mercy opened her arms and embraced Flynn, “Oh, Flynn. Baby. That’s scary. Me and Rose see dead people in our dreams… but you hear them? What do they say?”

  Flynn shrugged, “That’s just it. It’s more like whispers. Urgent whispering like they’re trying to warn me but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s… not good—”

  Mercy stiffened, “That’s why we need to get to the naval base. That’s why we need to get this biotech out of us before—” She looked up into Flynn’s face. “We’re going to make it Flynn. Believe me, we’re going to make it. Say it to me, go on say it—”

  Flynn hesitated.

  Go on, say it—

  Flynn hugged Mercy, burying his face in her hair, “We’re gonna make it babe. I promise—”

  A shout went up in the building.

  Mercy snapped her head up, “What now?” She reached for her pistol.

  “That was Tawny, she was with Barnes in the radio room. Come on,” Flynn made for the door.

  A minute later they were in the windowless radio room. Barnes was at a desk, wearing a pair of earphones. He was turning the dial on a radio transmitter. Its bright LED lights lit up the room. Tawny was hovering over Barnes’s shoulder.

  “You got it working,” Mercy said.

  “Damn right we did. Well, I found the battery. Barnes hooked it up, he’s trying to zone in on the naval base’s frequency.”

  “Wait, we tried that before, but it was just a recorded message,” Flynn said.

  “Yeah, I know. But apparently Constantine gave Barnes another frequency to try which drew a blank on the radio we had back east so he just left it. But now we’re so much closer maybe it’ll work—” Tawny replied.

  “Let’s hope,” Mercy said, looking at Barnes’s fingers adjusting the dial carefully.

  Jade appeared at the door, “What’s up?”

  Barnes stiffened, he raised a hand and reached for a pen and a notebook. Mercy glanced at Flynn, he put his arm around her.

  “This is Constantine 450 calling Naval Base Ventura, come in Ventura. Do you read me?” Barnes said, his voice level. He waited then repeated his transmission.

  Come on, come on, come—

  Barnes lifted his head, his shoulders tensing. “Constantine 450, affirmative. Reading you loud and clear. We are west of Moreno Valley, over. Do you have any assets in the area to escort us in? Over—”

  Barnes hunched forwards and started scribbling in the notebook. He nodded a few times and grunted. Finally he spoke, “Understood. I repeat; location 33.7526° N, 118.1903° W, tomorrow, 20:00 hours.” He nodded again, “Roger that, Constantine 450 out.”

  Barnes slumped back in the chair, took off the earphones, and rubbed his eyes.

  “So? Barnes, don’t hold out on us,” Tawny said.

  “We’ve got exfil organised for tomorrow, Naval Base Ventura has a vessel picking up other survivors along the coast. It’s a coastguard fast response cutter, they’ll wait for us for thirty minutes,” Barnes said, his voice flat.

  There was a stunned silence.

  “Where? Where’s the rendezvous?” Jade asked.

  Barnes turned around, he nodded at his notes, “The Queen Mary, Queens Highway, Long Beach.”

  Jade blinked, “The Queen Mary?”

  “You mean… The Queen Mary? The ocean liner?” Mercy said.

  Barnes nodded, “The very same.”

  Jade raised her eyebrows, “But why The Queen Mary?”

  Barnes stood up and shook his head, “I don’t know. Because you can’t miss it? I’m guessing. They’ll have their reasons. Anyway, we’ve got an exit strategy. This is good, this is very good.”

  “Who’s gonna break the news to Travis?” Mercy said. “It’s sixty miles to Long Beach. We’ll have to ride the horses hard, and we’ll have to leave them there.”

  Tawny blinked, “Yeah, I was there before you. I’ll do it. I don’t know what he’ll say. I hope he’ll be OK with it—” Tawny left the room, her eyes sad.

  “Come on everyone, cheer up. This is good news, we’ve got our ticket out of here. All we need to do is get to Long Beach,” Flynn said.

  Don’t say it Flynn. Don’t say it—

  “What could possibly go wrong?” Flynn added.

  There it is—

  Chapter 35

  The Long Acre

  They left the fire station at 4 am. The previous day was spent preparing for the journey. Everyone had studied the maps in the station’s operations room. A number of routes to the coast were agreed on, in addition to a set of emergency rendezvous points. Travis felt that the horses were capable of covering the sixty miles to the coast in a day. He was unhappy at having to abandon them at Long Beach but he conceded there was no other option.

  They took La Sierra Avenue north to State Route 91, then headed west. They passed through Corona using the freeway. The eastbound lanes were choked with rusting, abandoned vehicles. Mercy shook her head.

  Same old story all over the country, p
eople fleeing the cities. Running back to nature, dying on the road. Everyone always had to go everywhere at the same time in the old world. Rush hour, school drop offs, holidays, congestion. Well, these poor fuckers all died at the same time, running from the virus. Running from each other. This is the real road to nowhere… they would’ve just died in the desert anyway—

  Rose tilted her head at one of the SUVs; desiccated bodies were visible behind its grimy windows. “At least in the Fall chances were people didn’t die alone. They were all stuffed into cars like sardines. And, if the tropes got you, you didn’t die alone either… it’s just they’d be ripping out your throat. Keeping you company right to the end—”

  Mercy pulled a face, “Thanks for that cheerful thought Rose. But yeah you’re right; the hunted never die alone. The hunter’s always with you at the end.”

  The birth feast. The wedding feast. The death feast. The cycle of life—

  They entered the outskirts, then the suburbs of Los Angeles. The buildings and city streets told a story of destruction and despair. Parts of the city resembled a war zone, sometimes with whole blocks razed to the ground. Nature had reclaimed many neighbourhoods, their buildings choked with weeds and long grass. Utility poles and overhead wires were festooned with ivy and bougainvillea. The city was alive with birds and birdsong. Mercy’s eyes narrowed.

  No sign of dogs or cats. Bad sign. Goddammit, I wish that alpha hadn’t taken my rifle—

  The freeway signs indicated their location as they progressed. They passed signs for Fullerton, Anaheim, Buena Park, Cerritos, Lakewood, and Compton. A sign for Disneyland Park caught Mercy’s eye, she turned in her saddle to peer into the distance but was met with the same scene of devastation as everywhere else.

  What a waste—

  Travis was mindful of the horses’ welfare and they kept to a gentle pace, stopping for short breaks every couple of hours. Conversation was muted and kept to a minimum. The atmosphere was tense, people preferring to keep their thoughts to themselves. The air was tainted with smoke from the forest fires. The smoke and the heat haze had reduced the visibility in the city. Mercy’s throat prickled and she took sips of water from her canteen. Long sections of the freeway were lined by sound barrier walls, which added to the feeling of claustrophobia. Travis turned off Route 91 at Coolidge Park, and they headed south on the Long Beach freeway. Mercy glanced at her watch; 6:18 pm.

  Light’s starting to fade, but we’re nearly there, nearly there—

  Without warning a long, mournful sound pierced the air then disappeared. Travis halted and turned around. A few seconds later another wail reached them through the hazy evening light.

  What the hell is that—?

  Mercy looked around, eyeing the freeway’s sound barrier walls. Rose unslung her rifle, Annalise followed suit.

  Barnes moved in his saddle, a puzzled expression on his face. “That’s… foghorns, coming from the LA harbour area.”

  Rose turned to Mercy and shook her head, “I don’t like this. Nobody said nothing about foghorns. What the fuck is that about?”

  Another forlorn drone came from the south.

  Mercy shook her head, “No idea Rose. No idea, we’re committed now. It’s getting dark and we’re near our pick-up time. We ain’t got a radio to check.” She shrugged, “We need to go in, keep to the plan, and be ready for shit.”

  Another T-shirt slogan. Flynn would be proud of me—

  Travis and Barnes exchanged words then started moving again.

  Yeah, thought so. Reached the same conclusion as me and Rose. What other choice is there? None. Sometimes the less choice you have, the simpler things are—

  The last few kilometres took them through Upper Westside, Westside, and Lower Westside. The Los Angeles River hemmed them in on the east. Visibility deteriorated further the closer they got to Long Beach. Barnes said something to Tawny, she nodded and spoke to Jade and Annalise.

  A minute later Rose stopped and waited for Mercy to catch up, “Sea fog. Barnes says that’s Pacific Ocean fog ahead… not smoke. Welcome to the Pacific, not quite as poetic as I had hoped for but hey, we’re here. Congratulations, your plan worked out—”

  Mercy gave Rose a look, “Don’t tempt fate Rose, we’re not there yet.”

  Rose snorted, “There’s no such thing as fate, Dawes. The only thing I put my faith in is my gun… and you, of course. Everything else is like this fog… insubstantial.”

  “Rose, you’re a poet. You’ve just made this moment memorable. Guns and fog, what more could a girl want?” Mercy paused then shook her head, “What I don’t get is why these foghorns are sounding off. I mean we’re two years post-Fall, the grid is down. There’s no city, no people, no organisation. Society’s gone, civilization’s collapsed… so who’s setting off the foghorns?”

  Rose shrugged, “I dunno. Maybe it’s an automated system. Maybe it’s powered by solar panels. There’s probably loads of self-regulating systems still in place, the internet is probably still up there, in the cloud. God knows, the satellites still work… the NSA showed us that.”

  “I guess,” Mercy said. “Yeah, I’ll buy the automated systems theory. That makes sense. Well, looks like we’re close, stay frosty girl.”

  Rose spat on the ground, “Yeah, me and Smoky here are two frosty girls, ain’t we Smoky?” Rose leant forwards and patted her roan mare.

  Mercy opened her mouth but thought better of it.

  Rose’s named her horse. Not a good idea Rose, we’re gonna have to leave these beautiful animals to their fate in a city full of tropes—

  Mercy looked at her watch; 7:18 pm. Ahead, Travis stopped. Barnes halted alongside Travis.

  What’s up Travis? We’re cutting it fine as it is, plus the fact we can’t see a thing. Oh my—

  Mercy sat up, a tingle of excitement ran down her spine.

  Rose turned in her saddle and smiled. She pointed at the three huge funnels that had materialised out of the sea fog ahead, “I’d call that a slam dunk babe. We’re here, that’s a Queen Mary if ever I saw one. What an amazing sight—”

  A foghorn blast echoed through the thick fog somewhere out on the right. Mercy blinked and closed her eyes for a few seconds, recalling details from the maps she had memorized.

  “That’s Terminal Island over there, beyond that is San Pedro, and Point Fermin Park. There’s a hell of a lot of foghorns going on over there. That’ll draw a lot of trope action from all over the city—” Mercy said. She caught Rose’s eye.

  “Hey, that actually makes sense. Maybe these people have rigged the foghorns to go off to draw tropes away from their pick up points. Didn’t Barnes say this coastguard cutter was picking up other people up and down the coast? Other survivors?” Rose said.

  “Yeah, he did. So yeah, that would make sense. Maybe it’s not automated, maybe it’s an intentional trope diversion. Well, let’s hope it works,” Mercy replied.

  They continued for another twenty minutes and came to a series of carparks, and a set of barriers across the road.

  Harbor Plaza, Queens Highway… yes, this is it. This is it—

  Mercy’s eyes searched the shoreline. The air was fresh, salty. A cool, moisture laden breeze brushed her face. She inhaled deeply and allowed herself a smile.

  From New York and the Atlantic… to LA and the Pacific. We’ve done it, we’ve actually done it—

  “Hey, there she is; the Queen Mary… and look, there’s a submarine moored alongside her,” Annalise said.

  A submarine? What the hell?

  Mercy tensed, then relaxed when she saw an old sign: SOVIET SCORPION ATTACK SUBMARINE MUSEUM.

  Relax, it’s just an old museum piece. Take it easy—

  Her eyes widened as the Queen Mary’s prow materialized from the fog.

  “My god, it’s huge, it’s… massive—” Mercy whispered. Her eyes followed the ship’s outline to the stern in the distance.

  Rose glanced at Mercy, “Impressive, ain’t she? I reckon you could get thousand
s of people on her. Thousands.”

  Mercy nodded, “She’s something alright.”

  Foghorns continued to sound every few seconds on Terminal Island, and out towards the harbour entrance, and the breakwater. A huge dome appeared out of the sea fog, beyond the Queen Mary.

  Rose pointed at the dome, “I saw the sign for that, back there. It’s a cruise terminal.”

  “Well, I guess that’s something you and me will never have to worry about Rose,” Mercy said.

  “Heard cruises were overrated anyway,” Rose replied.

  Mercy checked the time; 7:47 pm.

  Jesus, where are these people? Where’s the cutter? Where do we meet them?

  An engine noise undercut the foghorns. Travis looked up, he pointed at the rock jetty that surrounded the Queen Mary. Mercy followed his gaze. The engine noise grew nearer, and a few seconds later, flashing navigation lights caught her eye. A coastguard cutter emerged from the fog, a short distance from the rock jetty.

  Jade turned and pointed, “That’s our ride. That’s our ride.”

  A man appeared on the bow, a loudhailer in his hand, “Persons unknown, identify yourselves.”

  Barnes brought his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Commander Barnes. Call sign; Constantine 405. Scheduled pick up, 20:00 hours.”

  Mercy caught Rose’s eye.

  These navy types—

  The loudhailer voice replied, “Roger that. You may approach. Use the rock pier, and the ship’s gangway. Permission to board.”

  Permission to board? Really? It all sounds so… formal. So… civilized—

  They filed across the rock jetty. Seagulls called out above, invisible in the sea fog. Tawny and Travis held back, lingering over the horses. They removed the saddles and said their goodbyes to the mares, tears in their eyes. Barnes, Annalise, and Flynn were the first to board the cutter. Jade waited for Rose and Mercy, before climbing the gangplank.

  “I wish Dimitri had made it,” Jade said. “It would’ve been a new beginning for him.”