The Survival Chronicles | Book 8 | Final Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Mercy nodded. “Dimitri gave his life for us to be here. He’s in here, “Mercy said, tapping her chest.

  With all the others—

  They climbed the gangplank and boarded the cutter. Mercy glanced back at the shore. Tawny was holding Travis’s hand. Travis had his forehead pressed against his mare’s neck.

  Come on Tawny, come on girl, you can do it. We won’t get a second chance—

  Mercy turned back to the cutter. A serious looking, red-haired man in his twenties was standing on deck, “Welcome on board the Aspen ma’am. I’m Chief Petty Officer Rivera. You’re our last pick up. I’m glad you made it, we’ve had three no shows today. I pity those folks still out there.”

  Ma’am—?

  Mercy stiffened at the sight of the man’s uniform. She avoided his hand and stepped over the small gap between the gangplank and the main deck. Rivera withdrew his hand and gave Mercy an awkward salute. He indicated a sullen faced youth, “Seaman Butler here will escort you below decks. Your Commander Barnes is on the bridge with the captain.”

  Mercy nodded, “Thank you officer Rivera, we’re grateful for your help. It’s been… a long day.” She looked back towards the shore and was relieved to see Tawny leading Travis across the rock jetty.

  Well played girl—

  Mercy gestured at Tawny and Travis, “Forgive my friends, they were just saying their farewells to our horses, they—”

  Rivera raised a hand, “No need to explain ma’am, we’re used to this sort of thing. We’ll wait for them—”

  They watched as Travis and Tawny picked their way across the rock jetty. The foghorns reached a new intensity in the distance.

  “What’s with the foghorns?” Rose asked Rivera.

  Rivera smiled, “Yeah, it helps, believe it or not. Our engineers were able to get them working again. We use them when we’re picking up survivors. They draw the tropes away from our location. LA’s population was four million at the time of the Fall. There’s still a lot of tropes out there, they’re attracted by sound. Foghorns do a good job, some of the tropes end up in the sea… which is a bonus too. We activate the foghorns by clicking on a VHF radio channel. That keeps them on for thirty minutes or so.”

  Rose gave Mercy an I-Told-You-So look.

  Mercy shook her head and smiled in acknowledgement. “Yeah, you nailed that one Rose.”

  “One more thing,” Rivera said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to surrender your weapons for the duration of the voyage. Standard protocol. I’m sure you understand, we’ve picked up a lot of survivors, and everyone’s been through a lot. We can’t have any… incidents on board. Butler will take you to the armory, and one of the crew will take your weapons. Don’t worry they’ll be returned to you once you’ve been debriefed back at base.” Rivera held Mercy’s eye, watching her face and body language.

  Yeah, actually makes sense. If Barnes is happy, I’m happy. Rose might not take it so well though—

  Mercy turned to Rose, “You got that Rose? Are we good?”

  Rose took a deep breath, she looked Rivera in the eye then seemed to relax, “Yeah, we’re good.”

  Tawny and Travis boarded the cutter then they all followed Butler to the armory to surrender their weapons. After that he took them down to the main deck. There they met other battered looking survivors. The stench of unwashed bodies and burnt out fear filled the confined space. Bread and hot soup was passed around. Mercy and Flynn took their ration and headed up onto the open deck for some fresh air. They ate their meal staring at the foggy harbour and breakwater slipping away from them.

  Flynn grabbed Mercy’s arm, “Look… over there.” He pointed at the western breakwater. A seething mass of tropes had gathered around a large red foghorn.

  Mercy stopped chewing, “There must be hundreds, thousands of them on that breakwater. Jesus, they’re falling in.”

  Scores of tropes were visible in the sea around the breakwater. Some sank beneath the waves as soon as they hit the water, others climbed back out of the sea onto the breakwater. A series of dull thuds came from the cutter’s hull as it ploughed through the water.

  Mercy looked over the railings at the water below. “Jesus Christ, there’s hundreds of them, floating in the sea.”

  Flynn glanced over the side and swore. “Shit. That’s really fucked up.”

  “We were lucky to make it out of there. If Travis and Tawny had stayed, they’d have run into some serious problems on the way back. We had the wind against us on our way through the city and the smoke behind so I reckon that helped cover our scent.”

  “Plus those foghorns around the harbour kept the tropes… occupied,” Flynn added.

  “Yeah—” Mercy said.

  A few seconds later the foghorns fell silent.

  Rivera said they were activated for thirty minutes. Christ, those last thirty minutes felt like a lifetime—

  Mercy took another sip of her soup, her eyes were glued to the breakwater and its milling wall of tropes. The cutter ploughed on, heading for deeper water.

  Flynn let out a low whistle. Mercy glanced at his face then followed his gaze out to sea. The fog had thinned. A chain of shipwrecks stretched out north, along the coast.

  Mercy gripped the handrail, “My god, Flynn, there must be scores… hundreds of ships out there.”

  The carcasses of container ships, oil tankers, and naval vessels littered the shallow coastal waters. The cutter changed direction and the scene of devastation unfolded. Mercy stood, wide eyed, staring at the wrecks.

  It’s a graveyard. A nation’s pride, its fleet of ships… all gone—

  “Shit, look over there,” Flynn said, pointing to the sea cliffs in the distance.

  Point Vicente—

  The prow of a huge ship edged into view. The day’s dying light illuminated more of the ship as they reached deeper water.

  “It’s an aircraft carrier… smashed right up against the cliffs,” Flynn said, his voice small.

  This virus has defeated the US Navy and the US Military. Everyone’s military and navy. It’s defeated the whole world—

  Flynn put his arm around Mercy, “We’re lucky to be here, to be alive, to have a second chance.”

  Mercy looked at the sun disappearing over the horizon.

  It’s got to get better than this. Hasn’t it?

  Chapter 36

  Point Mugu

  “It’ll only take two or three hours to reach Point Mugu,” Annalise said.

  Mercy looked at her friends, asleep on foam mats on the floor outside the cutter’s radio room. “I don’t know about you Annalise but I can’t sleep like them. I’m going up on deck. It’ll be cold but the air will be fresher than down here.” She stood up and grabbed the wool blanket she had been issued with.

  “Hey, wait for me,” Annalise said, sitting up. “I’m not gonna sleep down here either.”

  “Count me in too,” Rose said, shaking her head. “There’s too many people down here for my liking.”

  The cutter was full of survivors, including a handful of children. They made their way along the corridor, stepping over slumbering bodies. The 154 foot, Sentinel-class cutter’s two 4,300 kW MTU diesel engines thrummed deep inside the vessel’s engine room.

  It’s strange… being safe. Being the responsibility of others—

  They climbed the stairs and went out on deck. The cold sea breeze cut through Mercy and she pulled the blanket tight around her. They walked towards the cutter’s bow and reached the 25mm gun. Sea spray lashed their skin.

  Mercy took a lungful of air and smiled, “This is better, I feel alive up here. It was like a coffin below deck.”

  They huddled beneath the gun mount and stared at the star studded sky in silence. Mercy’s eyes drifted back to land. A narrow strip of coastline was visible a kilometre away.

  No lights, no houses, no cars, no people… no life. It’s all so dark—

  “Here,” Rose said, nudging Mercy. “Take a swig, it’ll warm you
up.”

  Mercy looked at the half bottle of rum in Rose’s hand, “Where did you get that? Or do I even want to know?”

  Rose flashed a smile, “If you’re gonna run with the big dogs don’t piss like a puppy. My grandma used to say that… seems somehow relevant now. Think of it as a celebration. We’ve made it girl. We’ve made it.”

  Mercy accepted the bottle and took a sip. The spirit burned the back of her throat, she swallowed and gasped. A deep warmth spread down her gullet to her stomach. “That’s… good.” She handed the bottle back to Rose.

  Rose gave the bottle to Annalise. “Yeah, so, I liberated it from the crew’s quarters. That, and… these.” She pulled a packet of Marlboros from her chest pocket, opened it, and offered Mercy a cigarette.

  Mercy smiled and took a cigarette. Rose did the same and lit their cigarettes with her lighter. She offered one to Annalise who shook her head but took another swig of rum instead.

  “I worry about you Rose,” Mercy said, drawing the cigarette smoke deep into her lungs. “One of these days you’re gonna get caught, and it won’t be on a US Coastguard cutter among friends. Someone’s gonna slice and dice you for a minor misdemeanour.”

  Rose shrugged, “Story of my life, girl. Story of my life. I wouldn’t worry. I’d get them before they’d get me. Straight up—”

  Annalise laughed, “Are you two sure you’re not sisters? You just always seem to… hang out like sisters. Sometimes it’s like… you seem to know what each other is thinking. That shit is rare—”

  Annalise took another pull on the bottle and handed it back to Mercy. Mercy nodded and fell silent.

  “Yeah, well, we’ve been through a lot of shit together, along the way. I guess that all adds up and… counts. You know?” Rose replied.

  Mercy took a swig of rum and rested her head back against the gun mount. The stars held her attention for a while then she closed her eyes. Rose and Annalise continued talking. Mercy let their conversation wash over her.

  I feel so close to these people but also kind of distant. What have I learned about them? About myself? They are my family. And family is everything… I guess I’m not a loner any more. Any of these guys would take a bullet for me and vice versa—

  Mercy listened to Rose and Annalise. There was laughter and some singing. Then silence. She felt herself drifting off.

  The cutter vibrated as it altered course and increased speed. The wind direction changed, bringing with it more sea spray. A hand squeezed Mercy’s arm.

  “Wake up Mercy,” Rose said. “You’ve gotta see this. Something’s up.”

  Mercy jerked awake. Her body was stiff. She shook her head, stood up, and held onto the handrail.

  “What is—?” Mercy said, her eyes glued to the coastline a few miles away.

  Several fires were visible in the distance. Mercy blinked. A bright flash caught her eye, it was followed by a faint explosion.

  “The naval base is under attack,” Annalise said.

  “Wait. What—?” Mercy replied.

  How can this be happening? Who’d be attacking the Naval Base? And why?

  “Shit, and here was me thinking we’d left all this behind,” Rose said, anger in her voice. “It’s almost as if this crap follows us around.”

  Damn right, Rose—

  The cutter’s speed increased and crew members began to appear on deck.

  They’re wearing flak jackets and helmets. This is about to get real—

  The crew ran towards the four .50 calibre machine guns. The remote controlled, 25mm chain gun autocannon above them moved without warning. A crew member ran by, then stopped, surprised to see Mercy and the others at the railing.

  “Get below, you can’t be here. Captain’s orders. Combat personnel only on deck,” the seaman barked.

  “What’s going on?” Mercy asked.

  “Port Hueneme’s under attack. It’s the bastard Missionaries again, and this time they’ve got mechs. We’re going in to provide support fire on the southern perimeter. All civilians are to shelter below deck. Get below now—” the seaman yelled.

  Mercy nodded and grabbed Rose’s shoulder before she could answer back, “Come on Rose, we need to find Barnes.”

  They went below and found Tawny, Travis, and Jade. Other survivors were awake and shouting at each other, their voices competing with the cutter’s engine noise.

  “Where’s Barnes?” Mercy asked Tawny.

  Tawny pointed upwards, “Barnes and Flynn went up to speak to the captain. Barnes heard about the attack on the naval base. There’s a RIB on this vessel. Barnes wants to use it to get close to the enemy and take them on.”

  Of course he does, he’s a Navy SEAL—

  Mercy chewed her lip and turned to Rose and Annalise, “You guys wanna stay here and hang tight? I’m going to see what’s going on. Things are out of our control but still, we need to know what’s happening—”

  Rose shook her head, “I’m coming with you.”

  Annalise nodded, “Go ahead, I’ll stay here with the others. Let us know what’s happening if you can.”

  “Will do,” Mercy replied. She turned to Rose, “Come on, let’s go.”

  They climbed the steps to the bridge and were stopped by an armed seaman at the top.

  The man raised a hand, “Halt, turn back. This is a restricted area.”

  Mercy began to speak but stopped when she saw Barnes and Flynn behind the guard. They brushed past the man and descended the steps to Mercy and Rose.

  “Barnes, I’m glad to see you. What’s going on?” Mercy asked.

  Barnes held onto the handrail and leant forwards, “The naval base is being attacked by some local warlord from Mission Hills in north LA. He’s got his hands on some heavy LAPD kit: some Stryker armored vehicles and some prototype mechs from god-knows-where. Selected police forces were receiving military kit before the Fall, maybe it’s got something to do with that. They’ve got a foothold in the south harbour and are bringing more firepower in. We need to help break their grip before it’s too late. Those mechs are taking their toll on the defenders—”

  Flynn nodded, “The naval base is huge. It’s not just at Point Mugu, it’s also at Port Hueneme, and there’s an island too. The main attack seems to be on Port Hueneme which is where we’re headed.”

  “Hang on,” Rose said, peering over Mercy’s shoulder. “You said we. We need to help. So count me in—”

  Barnes shook his head, “No, sorry. I meant me. Me and four of the crew are going ashore in the RIB to infiltrate enemy positions from behind. The captain recognises my training and experience. He’s put me in charge of the operation.”

  Mercy put her hand up. “OK, so we rescued your asses from these mechs last time. So we have experience in fighting them. Plus, we have those fancy new EMP grenades from the Marine Corps base, so we’re coming with you Barnes. End of,” Mercy said.

  Come on, swallow it Barnes—

  Barnes stared at Mercy, his face inscrutable. He blinked first. “Yeah, I knew you’d say that. I was just playing with you. It’s just as well the RIB takes ten people.” He turned to Flynn then back to Mercy, “We’ll take you, me, Rose, and Flynn… plus the four coastguard guys. Best leave the others out of it, it’s going to be high risk.”

  Mercy looked over Barnes’s shoulder into Flynn’s eyes. Flynn nodded.

  Oh… OK—

  Mercy nodded, “Game on. Let’s go then. We need to get our weapons from the armory. Is there enough time to let the others know?”

  Barnes shook his head and checked his watch, “Negative, this is time critical. The RIB is being launched in… eight minutes.”

  OK—

  They collected their weapons from the armory and joined Petty Officer Rivera and three of his men at the cutter’s internal stern launch ramp. The launch operator was in contact with the bridge. The cutter reduced speed and the order was given to launch the RIB.

  The RIB slid down the ramp and hit the water with a jarring thump. The s
ea was choppy and within minutes Rose threw up over the side. Mercy put a protective arm around Rose’s shoulder as her friend heaved her stomach contents overboard.

  Barnes scanned the shoreline with his binoculars and issued instructions to the helmsman. The cutter swung away from the RIB, resuming its course to the harbour mouth, a quarter of a mile away. Sea spray stung Mercy’s eyes as she looked towards land. Moonlight lit up the coastline. A sandy beach became visible, south of the port. Fire lit up the sky to the north of the port. Orange tracer rounds illuminated the southern edge of the harbour. Two large explosions erupted deep inside the base.

  Barnes turned his attention to the beach. He pointed at an area east of Port Hueneme Lighthouse and spoke to the helmsman who nodded. Barnes knelt down beside Mercy, Flynn, and Rose, “We’re going in close to the lighthouse. The plan is to improvise, act fast, and disrupt the enemy attack. We need to be selective, choose high value targets: armored vehicles, machine guns or mortars, and if possible… mechs. Don’t bunch up, spread out and don’t waste your ammo. Got it?”

  Mercy nodded. Rose attempted a smile and gave a thumbs up. Flynn stared out at the rapidly approaching shoreline. Barnes went forwards to brief the rest of the men. The seven meter RIB sliced through the water at thirty three knots, its two diesel engines roaring. One crew member manned the on board M240 machine gun, the others were holding on tight against the buffeting of the waves, their M4 carbines at the ready. Mercy checked her own webbing, making sure her fragmentation grenades were secure. She patted the two pouches which held the oversized EMP grenades and nodded at Rose. Mercy’s mouth was dry, her shoulders hunched.

  OK. It’s going to be OK. It’s going to be OK—

  The RIB hit something underneath the water, throwing them forwards. Mercy slammed into one of the upright crew chairs, white hot pain erupted in her shoulder.

  Jesus—

  Rose sprawled on the floor at Mercy’s feet and Flynn disappeared over the side. The RIB swung around, freeing itself of the unseen obstacle. The helmsman regained control and manoeuvred the RIB in, toward the beach. A few seconds later the rigid hull scraped up onto the sand and they came to a stop.