Fear Mercy

by Fergal F. Nally

  “A walk in the park for you guys,” Magenta said, tapping her watch. “Time to go—”

  “See you back here when the party’s over,” Rose said.

  Magenta grinned, “Oh, don’t you worry, me and my crew will be watching. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she patted her Savage Axis .270 hunting rifle. “I’ve doped my scope just for you Rose.”

  Rose gave her a look, “Good to know, bitch.”

  “Come on Rose, we’ve got work to do,” Mercy said, her voice calm.

  They filed past Magenta’s crew, down the stairs and out into the cool air. Mercy kept to the middle of the road, her senses alive. Rose was her shadow. She could relax with Rose. Rose knew, Rose was always there. With Flynn it was different. Mercy pushed Flynn out of her mind, her senses alert to the sounds and deepening shadows of late evening.

  We’re back in a city. I can handle this. We can handle this—

  Five minutes later they were at the airport fence. They found the openings Riker’s men had cut in the chain link in order to herd tropes from the airport to the gardens.

  Got to hand it to Riker, it took some organising to build his little empire—

  Mercy stepped over the downed chain link and made her way through the sighing trees. The stacked containers and semi-trailer trucks came into view.

  Like old Wild West movies, circle your wagons—

  Mercy crept forwards, expecting a shout, a cry of alarm, a tripwire. Nothing. Then the wind changed direction and the stench hit her.

  Christ, how can they stand the smell—?

  The unmistakable stink of rotting flesh seeped out through the barricade and assaulted her senses.

  Chapter 27

  The Compound

  Mercy checked her watch; 11:07 pm.

  Keep that bitch Magenta guessing, the only timetable here is mine and Rose’s—

  Mercy held a hand in front of her face.

  Can barely see… anything—

  “It’s dark enough,” Mercy whispered.

  Rose nodded and stood up, “Let’s go.”

  They moved to the line of stacked containers and followed them until they came to an overturned semi-trailer truck. Sheet and scrap metal had been welded in place to block off gaps in the barrier. Mercy crouched and ran her fingers over the welded metal. She came to the wheel section and found a narrow opening that had been plugged with tightly wound barbed wire.

  Mercy put her gloves on and set to work with the wire cutters. Twenty minutes later she had cut a hole in the wire. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she crawled through the gap. The smell of rubber, oil and death surrounded her. She paused as she emerged from underneath the semi-trailer. A forest of trope legs shuffled in front of her. Rose touched Mercy’s ankle; the signal to go.

  OK Rose, here goes nothing—

  Mercy crawled out from under the truck. She rose onto all fours, pausing for a moment before squeezing up between the compressed bodies.

  I am one of them, believe it, own it—

  Mercy stood up in the tightly packed crowd, the tropes swaying like corn in a wheat field. Her face touched a female trope’s cheek. Mercy jerked her head back, her eyes widened, her nostrils flared. The trope’s dead eyes seemed to look straight through her. Mercy shivered as the trope’s cold flesh touched her. The woman’s bony fingers dug into her, blindly searching. Mercy forced her feet apart and held onto the trope, using it like a shield, directing it into the crowd.

  “Living the dream, always clinging to the fucking wreckage,” Rose whispered behind. Rose squeezed Mercy’s shoulders; the signal to move.

  Time to go, it’s like the blind leading the blind—

  Mercy held onto the female trope, steering its body through the crowd.

  Deeper, deeper into death, that’s it, that’s it lady, easy does it—

  They worked their way through the pressing crowd, through the stench and decaying faces.

  Please, please, no super tropes, not now, especially not now—

  Mercy started to count her steps. The compound walls were growing nearer, rising up before them.

  Eighty four, right—

  Mercy released the female trope and pressed her hands against the corrugated iron wall. Voices came from above, she looked up. Cigarette smoke lingered in the air.

  Yeah, I’d be smoking too if I lived near this stench—

  A heavy drop of rain struck Mercy on the face surprising her, more drops followed. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the wall, breathing out.

  Yes… thank you—

  Rain exploded from the sky, drenching the shuffling tropes. The compacted earth beneath Mercy’s feet began to soften, turning to mud. She pushed herself along the wall, away from the voices above, towards the rear of the compound.

  Got to get behind the inner gate—

  Mercy glanced back quickly. Rose was a few feet away, a mad look in her eyes.

  That’s right Rose, you’re never more alive than when you’re close to death, familiar territory. Maybe we’re all crazy, maybe that’s the only thing that gets us through—

  Mercy stopped and looked up, the wall extended up into the night.

  Here, yes… about here will do—

  Mercy ignored the jostling, the rain, the insanity of the situation, she pulled the knotted rope and padded grappling hook from her pack. Rose slid up beside her and pushed the most persistent tropes away, creating room. Mercy hefted the grappling hook and eyed the top of the wall.

  Twenty feet, give or take, easy—

  She took aim and threw the grappling hook. It disappeared over the wall dragging the nylon rope behind it. Mercy held her breath and waited a moment before retrieving the rope. The excess came easily, then she felt resistance as the hook bit. Her muscles tensed as she pulled hard, testing the hold.

  It’s solid, thank Christ—

  Her concentration eased allowing other senses in. The rain hammering against the corrugated iron seemed louder, mirroring her heartbeat.

  Rain’s louder than a jackhammer, that’s good for us, any guards will want to shelter from the rain, the noise will cover us, do it, get up there—

  Mercy gripped the knotted rope and began climbing. She reached the top and scrabbled over, her boots gripping the wall’s rusty metal lip. She squatted on the wooden walkway behind. The wall was reinforced by scaffolding. She took out her silenced SIG and looked out over the compound below. Prefabricated huts and adapted shipping containers filled the space, an ancient Airstream trailer near the inner gate caught her eye. The smell of cooking drifted up through the rain.

  Clear—

  Mercy leant over the wall and waved at Rose. Two minutes later Rose was beside her on the walkway.

  We’re in—

  Rose nodded. Mercy touched the rope then pulled her hand away.

  Leave it; always keep an eye on the exit—

  Mercy moved forwards, heading towards the inner wall which divided the compound in two. A ladder beside a shipping container leant against the walkway. Mercy searched the ground for movement. Candlelight came from a few of the containers. A storm lantern glowed in a window at the rear of the compound.

  Everyone’s inside, sheltering from the rain, good for us—

  Mercy descended the ladder and pressed her back against the container wall, listening. Rose joined her seconds later. Muffled voices came from an open doorway ahead. The smell of cooking intensified. The ground had turned to mud, the compound was a quagmire.

  Brass it out, walk on by, as if you belong—

  Mercy pulled her hood up, hunched her shoulders and shoved her hands in her pockets. She strode between the containers keeping her head down.

  There’s fifty six people in this compound, I’m just one of them, trying to keep warm, brazen it out—

  Mercy reached a junction and turned right, towards the inner wall and the sliding gate. She stopped at the end of the row of containers and stared at the scaffolding supporting the inner wall. Cigaret
te smoke seeped through the air. Rain pelted the ground, steam rose from her wet clothing.

  Cigarette smoke, shit—

  Mercy crouched down and peered around the corner into the gap between the container and the wall. A man in a long coat stood twelve feet away. He was leaning against the corner of the container with his back to her, sheltering from the deluge. Mercy pulled back and cursed.

  The gate’s just there dammit, he’s in the way—

  She clenched her fists and closed her eyes, thinking.

  Go back, find another way. No… anything could happen, deal with it, deal with him, get it over, a silent kill, headshot… so he can’t call out—

  Mercy whispered her plan to Rose, then, crouching low, she rounded the corner. The rain hammered against the wall and containers. Mercy spotted the AR-15 slung around the man’s shoulder. She raised her silenced SIG P226 in a two handed grip and took aim at the man’s head. She held her breath and squeezed the trigger twice, both rounds went wide. The man grunted and turned, a glowing cigarette in his mouth. He brought his AR-15 up and peered into the dark gap. Mercy registered movement at his feet and fired two more rounds, this time at the man’s chest.

  The first round slammed into the man’s breastbone and fragmented, the larger fragment shredding his aorta. Her second round caught him in the neck crushing his larynx and suffocating the scream that was there. He slumped to his knees, his arms limp. His dog slammed into Mercy, a dark blur, its teeth tearing at her gun arm’s Kevlar sleeve. She fell to the ground with a grunt, dropping her SIG.

  The dog lunged at Mercy’s throat, she blocked it with her free arm. The hound’s breath was hot, its teeth savage white before her eyes. In a surreal moment, Mercy watched as Rose’s gun arm appeared, inches from her face. The silenced gun barrel disappeared into the dog’s mouth, Rose fired. One round shattered the dog’s spine, another round burst through the base of its skull. The dog collapsed onto Mercy, its bloody muzzle in her face.

  Mercy closed her eyes, pushed the carcass away and stood up. She retrieved her SIG and nodded at Rose. Mercy turned to the dead guard, took the AR-15 and hid his body in the narrow space. The inner gate lay ahead, across the main path. Dim light from the outer compound partly illuminated the open gateway. Mercy tilted her head and listened, rain sluiced from the sky drumming on every surface.

  There’s no way of knowing what’s beyond that gate. No choice, just walk across—

  Mercy strode across the path and glanced right. Six men stood huddled around a fire barrel ten yards away. Her eyes flicked to the distance, registering the outer gate and its watchtower. She stepped into the shadows by the inner gate, Rose beside her. Mercy gripped her SIG, she counted to five; no alarm, no challenges.

  Good—

  Mercy searched the ground and found two stones which she jammed into the gate’s sliding track. She watched as Rose put the finishing touches to a tripwire attached to a fragmentation grenade.

  Nice one Rose—

  Voices reached them from the other side of the gate. Rose withdrew from the booby trap and pressed up against the gate beside Mercy. Two men and a woman walked into the inner compound. Mercy’s eyes widened in recognition. The woman was handcuffed.

  That’s Riker and… the Professor—

  Riker was speaking over his shoulder to the Professor. An armed guard brought up the rear. Rose tensed, Mercy held her friend’s shoulder.

  “Not now Rose, our main objective is the outer gate,” Mercy paused. “At least we know they’re here—”

  The figures passed out of sight. Mercy relaxed her grip on Rose.

  Now to get past those guards to the front gate—

  Mercy examined the sliding gate, her eyes moved left to the scaffolding in the corner. She took a few steps and reached up.

  “Give me a boost, Rose,” Mercy whispered.

  A few seconds later Mercy reached down and helped Rose up the scaffolding, onto the inner wall. She looked at the outer compound, the guards were in a tight circle around the fire barrel, huddled against the rain. Her eyes went to the lookout tower beside the main gate, three figures were visible on the top platform. Sheets of rain pulsed through the air.

  Mercy pointed at the old truck below them, empty pallets stacked along its length. She gave Rose the signal and together they dropped onto the back of the truck. Mercy fell sideways, knocking against a stack of pallets. Rose managed to keep her balance. Mercy swore and looked towards the guards, her view obstructed by the pallets.

  Shit, get down—

  Mercy dropped to the ground and peered between stacked barrels at the guards around the fire. One of the men glanced at the truck but a second later he turned back to the others and joined in the conversation again. Mercy closed her eyes and exhaled, she hung her head, her hair falling forwards. Rain ran down her neck and between her shoulder blades.

  What the fuck am I doing here? This is insane—

  She checked her watch; 12:23 am.

  Why so much activity? These guys should be indoors, asleep—

  Mercy crouched and looked towards the front gate. A large mound of firewood sat between the guards and the lookout tower. The light from the fire barrel illuminated the near side of the woodpile. Mercy’s eyes narrowed as she calculated.

  We’ll stick to the wall, keep to the shadows and duck across, on the far side of the wood store. We’ll get in under the tower then scope out the gate. There’s three guards in the tower, too many to take out in one go, too risky, dammit—

  Movement caught her eye, a figure in a bush hat was descending the tower’s ladder. The man held a bowl in one hand. She watched as he reached the ground then walked over to the far side of the gate.

  What’s he doing—?

  Mercy leaned forwards and squinted at the man. He switched on a torch and pulled a tarpaulin off a series of low cages. Excited barking filled the air.

  Dogs, he’s feeding dogs. Christ, if we’d gone that way they would’ve started barking—

  The man had his back to them. He leant over the cages and dropped food into the dogs. Mercy turned to Rose. “Follow me, do as I do—”

  Mercy moved from the barrels towards the wall. They pulled away from the guards, keeping to the shadows. Half way along the wall Mercy struck out across the open area towards the wood store.

  Act natural, you’re one of them, you’re going to get some wood, they can’t see you, they—

  Mercy passed the woodpile and pressed on, making it to the far wall near the watch tower. Her heart was pounding, her breathing shallow. She ducked under the scaffolding beneath the tower, Rose one step behind. Mercy crept through the scaffolding and peered at the front gate.

  Two bolts, both padlocked, shit. How are we going to open that without making noise?

  Mercy turned to Rose, “Padlocks on the gate, the keys could be anywhere. We’ll have to try and force the locks—”

  Rose’s eyes flicked to the far side of the gate. “Dog man’s coming back.”

  Mercy swung around and saw the torch bobbing back to the tower.

  “We need to take him. On me, Rose.” Mercy moved back towards the ladder.

  The man switched off the torch as he reached the ladder. Mercy lunged at him from the side, he felt the sting of her knife as it bit deep into his neck. He struggled briefly before collapsing. Rose helped Mercy drag his body away from the ladder. Mercy patted his body down and found a SAR9 9mm pistol and a K25 boot knife.

  “No gate keys,” Mercy whispered. She looked up at the tower.

  “Just two of them left up there, odds on one of them’s got the gate keys. We’re only gonna get one chance at opening this gate—” Rose left her sentence unfinished. The logic was clear.

  “Yeah, we need to take the tower. I’m going up, you watch our six Rose.” Mercy donned the dead man’s bush hat and began climbing the ladder.

  “You’ve got it,” Rose whispered.

  Mercy neared the opening in the tower’s top platform and stopped, the
rain hammered the corrugated iron roof and sluiced off the edges. She stopped just short of the opening, her face lined in concentration.

  I’ll only get one shot at this. I need it done in silence, no mistakes, no noise, they mustn’t get a shot off at me—

  Mercy took her hand away from her SIG, instead reaching for the fragmentation grenade on her webbing. She climbed the last few steps and pushed herself up through the opening in the wooden platform. An older man and a teenage boy were leaning over the barrier looking out over the gardens. The boy turned to see Mercy half in, half out of the opening. He registered Mercy’s bush hat, his eyes widened when she lifted her head.

  “Drake, Drake, she’s got a grenade—” the boy’s hand went to a machete hanging at his side.

  The older man turned, his hands raising to the gun holsters on his back. He froze when he saw Mercy.

  Mercy held the grenade high, above her head, her finger through the pin. “OK guys, you’re gonna do as I say or else we’re all gonna get hurt, no question about that—”

  The man chewed slowly and spat on the floor. He nodded, “Your call bitch.”.

  “Hands where I can see them,” Mercy ordered.

  They held their hands out.

  “Now, slowly… both of you, on your knees, easy does it.”

  The two got to their knees, their hands above their heads. Mercy stepped from the ladder onto the platform.

  “OK, you first,” Mercy’s eyes flashed at the youth, “put your blade on the floor, slide it over here.”

  The youth placed the machete on the platform and pushed it towards Mercy. She kicked it to one side.

  “Now you, mister, slowly… take out your gun and place it down. If you shoot me I drop this frag and we all get dead, it’s as simple as that—” Mercy stared into the man’s eyes, trying to read his expression.

  The man nodded slightly and moved an arm to his back holster. He pulled out a sawn-off shotgun, reversed it and placed it on the platform.

  “Good, now the other one,” Mercy said, her voice hard.

  The man repeated the process for the second sawn-off shotgun.

  They’ll have back up weapons, careful—

  Mercy kicked the two sawn-off shotguns to one side and brought the grenade down slowly, holding it out before her. “Now who’s got the gate keys?”