Fear Mercy

by Fergal F. Nally

  Get up, get up, get moving, get warm—

  Mercy forced herself up the bank, she crawled through the undergrowth and listened, taking in her surroundings. Wind rustled through the treetops, the river rushed along behind her. Moonlight filtered through the clouds creating otherworldly shadows among the trees. She breathed in through her nose.

  Woodsmoke, a fire—

  She crouched and listened. The smoke beckoned.

  I have to find the others—

  Mercy advanced through the undergrowth towards the woodsmoke. Her hand went to the SIG, still in her thigh holster. She pulled it out and held it ready.

  Steady, steady, easy does it—

  A glimmer, a flicker through the branches ahead.

  A fire. I see you—

  Mercy edged forwards and caught a glimpse of tents in a clearing. Six feral-looking youths, armed with swords and muskets, stood around a camp fire. Fay, Thomas and Suzie were naked, strung up beneath an oak tree. Nooses hung around their necks, their hands were tied behind them, their feet teetered on wooden blocks a few feet from the fire. A shaven headed youth entered the clearing, carrying a glaive.

  Christ—

  Mercy crouched in the undergrowth, calculating. The youth approach Thomas and raised the glaive to his neck. Mercy swore to herself and reached up to her webbing for an incendiary grenade. The youth yelled and jerked the glaive down, slashing Thomas’s stomach. Thomas screamed, his feet slipped from the block, the noose tightened around his neck silencing him.

  Suzie was shaking so much her feet almost slipped from the block. She sobbed, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no, please nooooo—”

  Bastard—

  The shaven headed youth turned the glaive on Suzie, slicing her across the face, then he thrust the blade into her chest. The other youths looked on, transfixed. Mercy pulled the pin and threw the incendiary into the row of tents near the fire. The tents erupted in a sheet of flame, smoke billowed into the air. Mercy rolled away and brought her SIG up to fire at a youth running towards her, a civil war sabre in his hand. Her first round caught him in the arm, the second shattered his knee.

  Gunfire erupted on the other side of the clearing. Mercy looked up, the shaven youth kicked the block out from under Fay. Fay dropped, the noose tightened around her neck, her body jerked against the rope. Mercy cried out and raced towards the youth. Something swished past her left shoulder, she swerved, losing her footing on the carpet of decaying leaves. She fell and rolled to one side, a katana blade struck the damp earth beside her face. She brought her SIG up and blasted at the woman standing over her.

  The woman groaned and fell backwards, her face inches from Mercy’s feet. Mercy lashed out, one of her boots connected with the woman’s skull. Screams filled the night, smoke and flames danced before Mercy’s eyes.

  Movement. A shout. A flash of steel overhead.

  Mercy twisted away from the new attacker and switched her gun hand, firing the SIG blindly backwards, across her right shoulder. A heavy blade nicked her jacket. She jerked right and swung around to see the shaven headed youth slump to his knees, bullet wounds in his chest and right arm.

  Die fucker… never bring a knife to a gunfight you loser—

  Mercy grabbed his glaive and ran over to Fay. She cut the rope from the tree. Fay fell to the ground making a choking sound. Mercy dropped the glaive and wrestled with the noose. Fay’s body arched and began jerking uncontrollably.

  Shit, she’s fitting, clear her airway—

  Mercy loosened the noose and removed it from Fay’s neck. Foam and bloody spit came from Fay’s mouth.

  She’s choking, what do I—?

  “Here, let me,” a hand pushed Mercy aside. “I’ve got this.” Renton knelt down, rolled Fay onto her side and supported her head.

  Mercy gave him room, she tore her eyes away from Fay and glanced across the clearing. Two shapes sprang from the forest on the other side of the fire; a blood splattered youth brandishing a machete and a girl carrying a double headed axe. They charged towards Renton, savage screams leaving their throats.

  How many rounds left? No time to aim—

  Mercy brought her pistol up in one fluid motion. Axe-girl jumped over the fire, her weapon held high, she collided with Mercy knocking her over. Mercy slammed into the ground, a tree root digging into her back, her breath faltered, her grip on the pistol loosened. The girl swung the axe, bringing it to a stop at Mercy’s neck, she glanced at her companion. The youth landed beside Renton and swung his machete in a savage arc striking Renton’s neck. Renton collapsed on top of Fay, blood spurting from the neck wound.

  The youth turned to face Mercy, “We’re gonna gut you slowly bitch—”

  Mercy’s fingers closed around her pistol grip, she squeezed the trigger three times. Two rounds went into the tree above, the third slammed into the girl’s cheek spinning her around. The youth tried to free his machete from Renton’s neck but the blade was stuck in bone. Mercy took aim and fired. The youth froze for a moment then slumped to the ground, his shattered skull glistening through the gaping head wound.

  9mm parabellum sucks, don’t it—?

  Mercy crawled over to Renton’s body and grabbed his M16. She scanned the campsite for enemies and allowed her breathing to settle. A low groan came from under Renton.

  Fay—?

  Mercy pulled Renton’s body off Fay and leaned forwards to listen. Fay took a ragged breath, her eyelids fluttered. Mercy looked around then leant forwards and shook Fay’s arm.

  “Fay? You OK girl? Fay… it’s me, Mercy—”

  Fay’s eyes opened, she frowned, a flicker of recognition lit her face. She clutched her stomach and rolled over, retching in the dirt. Mercy kept her hand on Fay’s shoulder, concern running through her. She watched the trees and the camp.

  “Fay can you move? We’ve gotta get out of here—” Mercy broke off, her eyes narrowed, focusing on a glimpse of white through the trees. The sound of the river registered on her.

  What’s that?

  Fay groaned and sat up, her hands going to the rope burn around her neck. She touched Mercy’s arm, “Check… the tent… over there—”

  Mercy peered at the tent, she shook her head, “No, we’ve gotta leave now Fay, there’s no time, this place is crawling with the bastards—”

  A flare burst in the sky some distance away, its green light danced through the high branches adding to the surreal atmosphere.

  “Check the tent,” Fay insisted, her head in her hands.

  Mercy swore and raced over to the tent, she looked in, her expression changing to surprise. Bird and Sparrow lay bundled on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs. Mercy cut them free then ducked through the trees to check the white shape she had seen earlier. She pushed her way through the undergrowth and found herself standing on the foggy riverbank.

  A sleek, two-engined speedboat was moored in the bulrushes. She raised the M16 for a second then lowered it and scrambled into the boat. She spent a few frantic seconds searching then let out a cry of triumph. She pocketed the keys and jumped onto the bank, heading back to the others.

  Minutes later, armed with Renton’s M16 and a selection of scavenged weapons they were running through the forest, away from the killing ground.

  Chapter 23

  Red Light

  Breathless. Running.

  Are the others keeping up? Where’s Cronin? Did he make it—?

  Questions and doubt flooded Mercy’s mind, then she saw a red light through the trees. She stopped and held up her hand. The others came to a halt beside her, their breathing laboured. Mercy blinked, had she imagined it?

  The red light flashed again.

  Red filter, it’s got to be ours. Shit… do it—

  Mercy dropped to the ground and yelled, “Cronin, it’s Mercy, over here—”

  Mercy tensed, half expecting a hail of bullets. Instead, a shout and the sound of running feet came from ahead. Rose’s familiar face appeared through the trees.
Cronin, Pace and Hicks were followed by Tawny, Flynn and Sasha.

  Mercy took a double take, “Where’s Charlie?”

  Sasha looked down and stepped over to Fay.

  Fay put her arm around Sasha, “Charlie… he couldn’t swim—”

  No—

  Tawny’s eyes scanned Mercy’s group, “What about Thomas and Suzie?”

  Mercy shot Tawny a look and shook her head.

  “We lost Blake too, back in the boat,” Flynn ventured.

  Four souls in the last hour—

  The atmosphere was heavy. Fay turned away.

  Mercy snapped her head up, “Come on everyone, follow me. We’ve got a ride out of here.”

  They made it back to the camp ground. The fire had died down, the stench of death hung heavy in the air. Mercy led them to the speedboat and they climbed aboard. Pace took the helm and checked the controls.

  Flynn looked up, “Where’s Hicks?”

  Cronin answered from the front, “He’ll be a minute, he’s gone to take care of Renton.”

  Mercy pulled a face. Shit, I forgot to do it—

  Fay saw Mercy’s distress, “Don’t worry… I took care of Thomas, Suzie and Renton when you were freeing Bird and Sparrow.”

  Mercy slumped in her seat and stared at the fog swirling around the boat. It felt like a living thing; watching them, waiting. Hicks ran up, he threw the double headed axe and the glaive into the boat and climbed aboard. Cronin untied the mooring rope and Pace gunned the engine. The twin Mercury Racing 1100 engines roared into life shattering the silence.

  “This must’ve been a drug smuggling boat back in the day,” Rose said, running her hand along the smooth hull. “Bet she’s seen some action in her time.” Then, as an afterthought, “These fuckers ain’t militia, they just had the numbers on us. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time—”

  “Right now, I just want to outrun the bad guys,” Hicks said. “We’re going upriver, we still need to blow that boom to get through. Cronin reckons Renton managed to fix a charge on it before we were ambushed. We need to get to the boom, find Renton’s charge and attach a detonator. Then… we’re through—”

  Christ, we’re going back—

  “Don’t worry, lightning never strikes the same place twice,” Pace said, as he opened the throttle.

  The boat surged into the channel, the fog swallowing the roar of the engines.

  Mercy checked her watch.

  Hicks and Cronin were leaning over the side of the boat, working on Renton’s charge. It had taken precious minutes to locate it.

  What’s taking them so long—?

  Finally Cronin turned and gave Pace the thumbs up, followed by three fingers.

  Three minutes—

  Pace started the engine and reversed downstream. Mercy searched for the river bank through the fog. The night was silent, brooding. The wind had died down. Somewhere an owl hooted, its call, a shock of life through the dead murk.

  Rose pulled a face. Mercy could read her friend’s expression.

  Was that a real owl?

  A flare shot into the air on the left.

  They’re onto us, one lucky musket round and—

  Renton’s charge blew; a sound like a firecracker came from the boom.

  A strange howling pierced the night, followed by other throaty shrieks.

  Humans, kids, they’ve got some kind of settlement along the river. Maybe they’ve been driven here by the NSA, like Fay’s crew were pushed south except these kids have turned bad—

  The water stirred on the right of the boat.

  An alligator surfaced, its jaws wide. It snatched at something floating in the water and rolled its giant bulk in one smooth motion. It vanished from view. Mercy focused on the spot then turned away, bile rising in her throat. The remains of a trope carcass floated downstream.

  “Fat gators… says a lot,” Fay said, she spat over the side.

  Pace steered the boat at the breach in the boom. The prow pushed into the rotting trope corpses. The current was funnelling the bodies through the breach and the boat’s twin engines strained to make headway. Pace skilfully negotiated the breach, avoiding the alligators. Five minutes later they were free from the area and the boat moved with ease through clear water.

  The going was slow due the fog, but there were no more flares. Cronin and Hicks kept their eyes on the water ahead, navigating the northward channel. Fog persisted for most of the night but started to ease towards morning.

  “Pace said this was the North Landing River,” Rose said, her voice hollow.

  Mercy nodded, “Yeah, I reckon we’ve passed from North Carolina into Virginia—”

  “Never been to Virginia,” Rose said. “Guess there’s a first time for everything. Hey, do you remember that song about the Blue Ridge Mountains?”

  “Yeah, classic,” Mercy replied.

  “Sic semper tyrannis,” Fay said.

  “What?” Rose asked.

  “Sic semper tyrannis, that’s Virginia’s motto. It means death to tyrants—” Fay explained.

  Rose looked at Mercy, “Well that’s… apt.”

  Flynn appeared, a smile on his face, “Look what Pace found under the seat.” He held out four rusty tins.

  Fay’s eyes lit up, “No labels, could be anything; dog food, cat food, but hey, anything would be good at this stage—”

  Flynn handed one of the cans to Fay and another to Rose, “Pace says the river joins the Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal and then it’s a straight run to the city—”

  “Chesapeake and Norfolk. Jesus, I feel like I’m revisiting the scene of a crime,” Fay said.

  “So what do you want to do Fay? It’s just you, Bird, Sparrow and Sasha now,” Tawny asked.

  Fay started opening the can with her knife. “Yeah, well… I was gonna cut loose, head west to Suffolk, lie low, maybe join another crew or maybe head south for the winter. NSA are thin on the ground the further south you go—” her voice trailed off. “Guess we’ll be baling soon.”

  Rose had opened her can, “Well, what do you know? I got peaches… beats dog food any day.” She stuck her fingers in and pulled out a peach slice, stuffing it into her mouth.

  The first rays of sunlight were creeping over the eastern horizon. Mercy looked at their surroundings. The water channel was dead straight, east to west.

  We must be in the canal—

  Pace killed the engines and steered the boat into the bank. He raised a hand and lowered it palm down towards the floor.

  Mercy turned west to see what had made him stop. In the distance a large bridge straddled the canal. Early morning sun reflected in the windows of the operating tower to the left of the bridge.

  Rose pressed a pair of binoculars to her eyes. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered.

  Chapter 24

  Great Bridge

  Rose handed Mercy the binoculars.

  Six corpses were strung up beneath the bridge. NSA flags flapped on poles above the bridge.

  The bodies… they’re twitching. NSA bastards didn’t even kill them properly—

  No one spoke. Water lapped against the hull. Pace kept the engines idling as the sun rose behind them.

  Cronin stepped back from the prow. “This is our first serious obstacle. We’re lucky, the sun’s in their eyes. We can get off here and walk around them, get into the city on foot—”

  Mercy pulled a face.

  Cronin noticed. “What do you suggest Mercy?”

  Mercy looked at the faces around her. “Way I see it is we’ve got this boat… travelling by water, it’s safer and quicker than on land. I say we charge the bridge, take them by surprise, go in guns blazing. This boat’s got the speed, it’ll get us through. Once we’re on the other side, progress will be faster by the river. If we have to, we can go by land but only as a last resort—”

  Cronin glanced at his men. Pace nodded.

  Hicks raised his head, “I’m in.”

  “OK, we’ll do it. Mercy, you and m
e will stay up front. Pace you’re the boatman, do your stuff. Hicks you cover our rear, everyone else will stay below. We can’t afford any casualties.” Cronin stared at Flynn and Rose, “That part’s non-negotiable—”

  Minutes later they were ready. Mercy checked Renton’s M16, she lay on her stomach at the front of the boat. Cronin gave the signal. Pace gunned the engines and they shot forwards. Mercy kept her eyes on the tower on the left of the bridge, her breath held. They had almost reached the bridge when the tower’s top window opened, something moved in the gap. Mercy aimed her M16 and squeezed the trigger, the window disintegrated a heartbeat later. The boat shot under the bridge, the sound of the Mercury twin engines drummed in Mercy’s ears.

  Mercy blinked and they were through, the bridge receding behind them. A burst of gunfire from the tower went wide, ripping up the water behind them. Mercy stared at the canal banks ahead. Pace kept the engines on full throttle. The boat cut through the water with ease. Mercy frowned, a barrier loomed ahead; three massive barges chained together were blocking the canal.

  Shit—

  Men ran on top of the barges, they were taking up positions, bringing weapons to bear on the approaching craft. Cronin turned to Pace and nodded, pointing at a narrow gap between the barges. Pace steered the boat towards the nearest opening, water spray drenched Mercy. She aimed her M16 at two NSA soldiers running towards the gap and fired a controlled burst. One of the men fell, clutching at his side, the other dived for cover. Cronin was returning fire on his side of the boat.

  NSA rounds sprayed the water and slammed into the boat’s foredeck. Then they were in the gap, the barges towering on either side, their engine noise magnified in the enclosed space. The smell of oil and fumes filled the air, then they burst through into the open water beyond. Hicks opened fire at the rear of the boat. They kept moving, Mercy reloaded her M16, her cold fingers fumbling with the magazine.