The Survival Chronicles (Book 7): Hard Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Mercy looked through the window. “There’s a stroller in there and some kids’ toys on the floor,” she hesitated. “Come on, let’s go check round the back—”

  They pushed their way through weeds and brambles to the back yard. A climbing frame and a set of swings stood in one corner.

  “You know what?” Tawny said, “This feels like a nursery or a day care centre or something, but I didn’t see a sign out in front—”

  Mercy drew near to a large rear window and peered through the glass, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. “Jesus—”

  Kids, they’re just little kids. Shit. What the hell happened here?

  The large playroom was full of wasted trope children. Their faces were gaunt, their bodies painfully thin.

  Tawny looked through the window and let out a long sigh, “Old death… like I said. They locked their kids in here. This shit is from the Fall—”

  Mercy pulled away from the window, “Yeah, look… the back door and the fire door further along, they’ve both been barred and bolted—”

  “Maybe they were trying to protect them or—” Tawny said, stopping abruptly.

  Use them as food? No—

  Mercy nodded, “I saw something like this once… back in New York. Parents can’t kill their kids when they’ve been bitten. There was this place I came across… a five-story brownstone on the Upper East Side… 61st Street I think. It was a crèche, looked like there was a few adults looking after all these kids. But the kids had turned, every last one of them, there were locks on all the doors. I stopped counting after forty six kids—”

  Tawny pulled a face, “What? You mean the parents got together and put all their infected kids in one place?”

  “Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. Maybe they were holding out for a cure, you know… in the early days there was talk of a cure. They sure as hell weren’t gonna put a round through their own kid’s head… no such thing as mercy killing back in those days—”

  Tawny stared through the window at the group of wasted trope children. “Right, I guess we’ll give this place a miss then—”

  Mercy straightened up, “What are you talking about? Wherever there’s kids there’s food and supplies. Parents always make sure their kids have everything. I got some good supplies from that place on the Upper East Side. I bet this place is no different.”

  “Parents are parents wherever you go. It’s the toughest job on the planet, raising a kid. I’m glad we ain’t got one with us, especially not now. Beats me why anyone would want that responsibility—” Tawny turned her attention to the rear door. “We’re not gonna get in through here, that’s for sure. What about forcing a window?”

  Mercy examined the window frames, “No, there’s a risk of breaking the glass, that would make too much noise. There has to be another way in—”

  Tawny pointed at a conservatory further along. “There’s hatch in that day room’s roof… we could climb up and check it out.”

  “Come on then, I’ll give you a boost,” Mercy answered.

  Five minutes later Tawny was on the conservatory roof. She pried open the rusted hasp lock and dropped down to the floor inside. She unlocked the external conservatory door and let Mercy in.

  “Good job Tawny,” Mercy whispered. “Let’s see what we can find—”

  They pressed up against the internal glass door and peered into the adjoining room.

  “It’s the dining hall, looks empty. You ready?” Mercy asked.

  Tawny hefted her M4, “Always—”

  Mercy pulled on the handle, the sliding door moved along its rail with a slight grating noise, then it stopped.

  Good enough. Just wide enough to squeeze through—

  Mercy stepped through the gap. The sun emerged from behind the clouds at the same time, illuminating the dining hall through the glass conservatory roof. The floor was coated in a thick layer of dust.

  No footprints, no one’s been in here—

  Mercy stepped aside letting Tawny in. She pointed at her chest then at the serving counter. Tawny nodded.

  No broken glass—

  Large double doors were on the left. Mercy pressed up to them, listening.

  Nothing—

  Mercy slid the top and bottom door bolts home. She edged her way closer to the serving area, a large serving hatch took up space in the wall. Dishes and cutlery were neatly stacked on shelves behind the counter.

  Tawny stepped around the counter to check on the far side of the room. She waved at Mercy giving the all clear signal. Mercy turned her attention to the serving hatch.

  There must be enough tables and chairs in here for about fifty kids. They’d either have prepared the food on site or used a local supplier. So, there should be a kitchen behind here—

  Tawny joined Mercy at the hatch. “Nice and easy, slide it open—”

  Mercy gripped the handle and opened the hatch six inches. A stale, musty smell wafted out. She shone her torch through the gap, her light reflected off dusty stainless steel surfaces.

  Good… the kitchens. What is it with the dust in this place? Where the hell does dust come from anyway?

  Mercy tapped the hatch with the barrel of her HK45 pistol and waited.

  Nothing—

  She glanced at Tawny then fully opened the hatch. Kitchen worktops lined both sides of the room. A large island with cookers and burners occupied the centre area. Mercy pointed her torch at the rear of the kitchen, illuminating a further set of doors. She raised an eyebrow.

  Could be the food store—

  Mercy climbed up onto the bench and swung through the hatch into the kitchen. Tawny followed. They made their way through to the back of the kitchen and reached the rear doors.

  Mercy read the sign on the first door: FREEZER ROOM.

  No use—

  The ghost of a smile crept across her face as she shone her torch on the second door: KITCHEN STORE ROOM.

  OK, so this’ll do… here’s hoping—

  Mercy gripped the handle and listened. Satisfied, she opened the door and shone the torch inside.

  Hell yeah—

  The store room’s shelves were laden with tinned food and bottled water.

  Tawny let out a low whistle, “You can say what you like about what they did to their kids, keeping them undead, but they sure knew how to prepare for the end. There must be enough food here for months—”

  “Not to mention what they had in those freezers next door—” Mercy said.

  Tawny pressed into the room, she brushed against a shelf. Her jacket caught on the frame and jerked her back. A glass jar fell to the floor and smashed, spilling a quart of pickled gherkins all over their boots. They froze.

  Goddammit Tawny—

  A sharp bang came from the other side of the kitchen doors. Others followed and soon the whole building was alive with shouts and wild screams.

  “Quick, grab what you can and let’s get the hell out of here. That sound will carry outside, it’ll attract others—” Mercy said. She unslung her pack and began filling it with food.

  Chapter 19

  Entrapment

  Mercy lifted up her food laden pack and passed it through the serving hatch to Tawny. The double-hung half door at the other end of the kitchen splintered and the top lock gave way. The upper half swung inwards on its battered hinges and a spiderlike child-trope crawled over the lower door. It was followed by others, surging up and over the partial barrier, a tide of death.

  “Mercy, move, like fucking now—” Tawny yelled. She reached through the hatch and grabbed Mercy by the shoulder, wrenching her across in one swift movement.

  Mercy landed on the floor and sprawled beneath the counter.

  Tawny slid the serving hatch shut, “Go on, get the bags into the conservatory. I’ll hold this shut—”

  Mercy grabbed the two packs and ran to the conservatory door. She shoved the bags through then squeezed herself into the gap. A burst of gunfire came from behind, she turned to see Tawny emptying a
magazine through the open hatch.

  “Tawny get over here—” Mercy shouted through the gap.

  Tawny turned and vaulted over the counter. She ran towards Mercy. Three childlike figures burst through the hatch and collided with the counter. Tawny slipped, nearly losing her balance, she staggered, crashing into a table and chairs. Mercy took aim and fired her HK45 pistol through the gap at the closest undead child. Its head burst open like a rotten melon.

  Mercy fired at the two other sprinting figures closing on Tawny. One of her rounds hit the second trope child in the knee, flooring it. Tawny picked up a chair and swung it wildly, hitting the third trope child in the chest, spinning it around. Tawny dropped the chair and charged at the gap in the conservatory door. More figures emerged from the serving hatch in a blur. Tawny pushed herself through the gap and fell to the conservatory floor gasping.

  Mercy slid the door closed and engaged the lock. She stood over Tawny and pointed her pistol at the rapidly filling room on the other side of the glass door. Tawny grunted and stood up panting. The group of ragged trope children pressed up against the glass door, their eyes full of mindless hunger, their teeth snapping at the air.

  “It’s OK Mercy, it’s OK. Thank Christ for toughened glass. It’ll hold—” Tawny said, pressing Mercy’s gun hand down. “You did good, that thing would’ve got me. I owe you—”

  Mercy lowered her gun and stared at the frenzied trope children, slamming their undead bodies at the glass. “Trope kids, I get it… I get it. But there must be alphas among them, how else do you explain them attacking us?”

  Tawny shook her head, “Yeah, it sucks. I guess it just takes one alpha to twig and it activates the rest of them. That explains the NSA’s plan for weaponizing the feral alphas. The alpha queens in particular… they can control the dumb ones, use them like a mindless army. They’ll smash through Constantine’s forces like a hot knife through butter—”

  “Yeah… the alpha queen,” Mercy mused. “I wonder if they’re developing into a primitive matriarchal society. It’s like what we saw on Grand Cayman—”

  There’s something about Rose. Maybe her biotech is sending out alpha queen signals—? What do these alphas want? Where are they going? What’s it all about?

  Tawny pulled a face and lifted up her pack, “Woah there, Einstein… or is it Darwin? Society? That’s a strong word, a bit of a leap don’t you think? Let’s not credit them with that much intelligence—”

  Mercy tore her eyes away from the hungry crowd of undead children on the other side of the glass. “Come on Tawny, let’s get away from here… while we can—”

  “Shame, we won’t be able to get more of that food. It’s a busted flush now—” Tawny sighed.

  They retraced their steps and made it back to the railroad. Mercy climbed the steep embankment and peered over the top towards the abandoned train in the siding.

  Holy shit—

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me—” Mercy swore.

  “What is it?” Tawny crawled up beside Mercy. “Oh, OK, I get it—”

  “It’s a clusterfuck, that’s what it is—” Mercy said, she lowered her forehead to the ground.

  A crowd of at least a hundred tropes had gathered around the front carriage. They were slapping their hands against the side of the train and trying to climb the entry steps. Somehow Flynn had managed to block the steps with a couple of food service carts.

  “That barricade won’t last long, we need to get down there and help them. It’ll be Barnes’s scent, he’s sweating like a pig with his damned drug withdrawal. He puked up on the tracks too, that wouldn’t have helped. Shit, this is all we need,” Mercy shrugged off her heavy pack. “We’ll need to stash this food and get it later. I guess we’ll have to draw that lot away. We can get in position then grab their attention, risky but—”

  Tawny tapped Mercy’s shoulder, “Can you remember if there was a skylight in the train carriage? I think there might have been one… covered in dirt—”

  Mercy stopped talking and looked at Tawny, “Skylight? Yes, I think so… why? Wait, what are you cooking up Tawny?” Mercy looked out over the tracks at the abandoned train, she smiled. “OK, so… the footbridge, at the other end of the train. You reckon we could drop down onto the roof there, without them seeing us?”

  Tawny nodded, “It’s possible, if we can get away without firing a shot we might be able leave the horde behind without them following us. It’d be dependent on Barnes being strong enough to move though—”

  Mercy thought for a few seconds, “Right, let’s hide our packs and get to the footbridge, it’s worth a try. We’ll bring some water for Barnes, he was pretty dehydrated when we left him. Christ, it’s only been a few hours, it feels like days. For once it’d be nice to get a little down time. Come on, let’s go—”

  They made their way along the overgrown embankment and stashed their packs in a bramble thicket. They drew even with the steel footbridge and climbed its rusting steps. A minute later they were looking down on the last few train carriages.

  “It’s about a seven foot drop, if you hang from the bridge… not too bad,” Tawny said.

  “Yeah, and look on the bright side; the train’s not moving,” Mercy replied.

  They climbed over the bridge’s side panels and dropped down to an external ledge. The stench of corrupted flesh wafted to them from the undead horde sixty yards away.

  Mercy glanced at Tawny, “You go first, I’ll be right behind you. Watch your landing, we don’t want a broken ankle… try and roll with the impact.”

  Tawny lowered herself over the ledge and hung for a second before dropping to the train carriage below. She hit the roof and rolled onto her side.

  Nicely done Tawny—

  Mercy followed suit and landed beside Tawny.

  “You OK?” Tawny asked.

  Mercy grunted, “Fine, let’s get moving, keep low. Don’t let them see you—”

  They crouched and made their way along the length of the train, jumping between the carriages. They reached the front of the train a few minutes later. Mercy examined the grimy skylight.

  Shit, I can’t see a thing—

  She rubbed the glass with her jacket sleeve and peered into the carriage below. Flynn was at the side door, reinforcing his makeshift barricade with a couple of large fire extinguishers. Mercy tapped the skylight three times with the butt of her knife. Flynn looked up and froze, then he smiled.

  Good, at least he didn’t shoot me—

  Mercy pointed at the skylight and jerked her hand up.

  Come on Flynn, pop the hood—

  Flynn climbed onto a chair and straddled the aisle. He reached up and pushed the skylight open with his rifle stock.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you babe, what took you guys so long? These fuckers came from nowhere. It’s either me or Barnes that’s drawing them, my money’s on Barnes—” Flynn’s shoulders collapsed. “Sorry, I’m rambling. What do you wanna do?”

  “How is Barnes? Do you think he could make it up through here?” Mercy said, handing a water bottle down to Flynn.

  Flynn shrugged, “He’s tall. He could easily get up there using these chairs. Except that he’s sick.” Flynn pulled a face, “He’s had a rest and his colour’s improved. Hold on, I’ll try and rouse him and give him some water. If you could find something up there to tie under his arms then you could haul him up and I could push him from below—” Flynn dropped to the carriage floor and went over to Barnes in the corner.

  Mercy turned to Tawny.

  “I heard, I’m on it—” Tawny said, she started crawling back up the train.

  Where’s she going?

  Mercy looked around for anything useful.

  Nothing—

  Two minutes later Flynn appeared below the open skylight, supporting a pale looking Barnes.

  Barnes looks wasted. Shit, how are we gonna do this?

  The tropes had become more agitated along the side of the carriage, their screams and bang
s intensifying.

  They must be able to see movement through the windows. We’ve gotta get this thing done. Come on Barnes, it’s up to you—

  Flynn passed up Barnes’s pack and rifle. Mercy lifted them through the skylight and placed them on the roof. She looked up, Tawny was on the next carriage. She was hanging over the left side.

  Tawny, what the hell are you doing?

  Flynn jumped down from the seat and gave Barnes another drink. Barnes splashed some of the water on his face, blinked, then looked up at the skylight.

  He looks dazed, unfocused—

  Mercy made eye contact with Barnes, “Barnes you hairy-arsed bastard, come on… you can do this shit. Remember the forty percent rule you told me about? Well, this is it… show time. Give me the sixty percent you’ve got left in the tank—”

  Barnes straightened up, rubbed his face then shook his head.

  He looks like shit. Hell knows what else he was taking on top of that methamphetamine—

  Barnes stood on an aisle seat, swayed and reached out to steady himself. He climbed onto the top of the seat and straddled the aisle as Flynn had done.

  Movement. Mercy looked up. Tawny was crawling towards her, a long length of rubber in her hand.

  “Tawny, what’s that?” Mercy said.

  “Rubber seal from the carriage window, you can tie it under his arms. It might stop him from falling,” Tawny replied, her breathing laboured.

  “Nice work Tawny,” Mercy grabbed the rubber seal and passed a loop down to Barnes. “Barnes, wrap this around you… under your arms. This’ll be a combined effort, you pull up and we’ll pull up. When you’re ready—”

  A smashing, rending sound filled the air. Sunlight streamed into the carriage below. Mercy’s eyes flicked to the carriage door behind Flynn. Undead hands were prying open the damaged door. Flynn turned and ran back to the door to try and shore up his barricade. Mercy swore.

  Oh no. No, no, no. Flynn. This is where it all gets fucked up—

  Chapter 20

  Respite

  Barnes reached up and grabbed the skylight frame. He tensed then pulled himself up. Mercy braced herself, keeping the rubber seal tight under Barnes’s arms. Tawny held onto Mercy’s waist, adding her weight to the effort.