Fear Mercy

by Fergal F. Nally

  “Let’s be quick, I don’t want to be in this place any longer than I have to,” Mercy said.

  They made their way down the corridor and reached the doors.

  “Operating theatre,” Mercy whispered, a glint in her eye.

  Mercy entered the room, Rose waited outside, her eyes on the corridor. The room was pitch black, Mercy switched on her head torch.

  Some kind of prep room—

  Glass cabinets reflected her torch light. She peered through the glass.

  Surgical dressings, dressing packs, instrument packs. Result—

  Mercy grabbed a selection of packs and shoved them into her bag. She returned to Rose. “Time to get out of here—”

  Rose took a step down the corridor, “Roger that—”

  The crunch of broken glass off to their right sent a surge of adrenaline through Mercy. Rose swung around, pointing the Winchester down the corridor.

  “Run,” Mercy said.

  They ran to the reception area and stopped just short of the main foyer. Mercy glanced around bracing for an attack. Outside, a figure ran past the fire door’s opaque glass window.

  Shit, shit, shit—

  “The bike, make a break for it,” Mercy said.

  They dashed through the open entrance, across the driveway and onto the road.

  “Bike’s gone, goddammit,” Rose said, anger in her voice.

  Mercy pulled Rose behind a battered SUV parked beside an adjoining building. They crouched down, weapons at the ready.

  Wait for them to show themselves, let them make the first move—

  Mercy held her breath, her eyes darting left and right.

  Come on you bastards—

  A minute later a bullet ridden ambulance door opened slowly. Mercy tapped Rose and pointed at the ambulance half way down the side of the clinic. They watched as a young woman stepped out, one hand on her large belly.

  Christ, she’s pregnant—

  The woman scanned the side of the building and looked up at the roof. She slipped her arm into the ambulance and helped a young girl down the step.

  They’re not armed, the girl looks in shock, what’s going on here?

  Rose nudged Mercy’s arm, “Roof.”

  Mercy looked at the roof.

  Christ—

  A sleek, skinny trope appeared from behind a cluster of air conditioning units. Powerfully built and naked, its sunken eyes and long black nails were clearly visible.

  “One of them alphas,” Rose hissed. “It’s hunting them—”

  Chapter 36

  Extrication

  Mercy raised her M4 carbine, aiming at the super trope. The alpha moved like a spider along the roof edge, above the pregnant woman and the young girl.

  Make it count—

  Mercy squeezed the trigger. A burst of rounds slammed into the side of the building and the roof. The trope pulled back, disappearing.

  Shit, missed—

  Mercy’s eyes went to the woman and the girl, they were running towards the SUV.

  Rose brought up the Winchester and shouted at them, “Get down, now—”

  The woman dropped to her knees pulling the girl down. A second alpha burst out from a row of rusting cars and threw itself at the woman. Rose swore and fired her shotgun at the trope. One of her slug rounds caught it in the right shoulder spinning it around, another round shattered its spine sending it crashing to the ground beside the woman. Rose stepped forwards to finish the job.

  Movement on the roof caught Mercy’s eye. She turned, bringing her M4 to bear on a blurred shape flying through the air towards her. She shot and missed, the alpha landed on a car hood ten feet away. The trope smashed into the car’s windscreen splintering the glass. Mercy aimed again and blasted the alpha as it turned to face her. Her 5.56mm rounds pierced its skull in three separate places. It slumped to the ground leaving a black smear on the hood.

  A single shot rang out behind. Mercy turned to see Rose standing over the other alpha, her SIG 1911 in hand. The woman was struggling to stand up, the small girl stared at the dead alpha. Mercy’s eyes darted back and forwards, she stepped towards the others. “We’ve got to get out of here, now.” She looked at the woman, “Did you take our bike?”

  The woman shook her head pulling the girl close. “No, it’s those things, we came across them at the camp… we were scavenging. My husband and son, they’re trapped in there, you’ve got to help them, they’re surrounded by the dead—”

  Mercy’s eyes narrowed, “Wait. What? What camp?”

  The woman held up her arms, pleading, tears running down her face. “Please, you’ve gotta help them, they got in but their ladder fell down, they’re stuck. You’ve got weapons, you could get in, do something—”

  Christ, just what we need now; a rescue mission—

  “What camp?” Mercy said, her voice hard.

  The woman blinked, “The FEMA camp, back in the forest—” she pointed to the trees behind the clinic.

  “How far is it?” Rose asked.

  The woman frowned, “I don’t know… two hundred yards or so. I’ll show you—”

  “No you won’t,” Mercy said, checking her watch. She closed her eyes and turned away, thinking.

  Rose waited, watching the forest.

  A few seconds later Mercy stared at the woman. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Me and Rose here are going to find our bike, then we’ll check out this camp. No promises but we’ll take a look and see what we can do—”

  The woman wept in relief, “Yes, yes… please get them out.”

  Mercy grunted, “Rose, stay with her, get her to draw a map of this camp and where her people are at. I’ll go search for the bike, those alphas couldn’t have taken it far—”

  Mercy left the clinic and walked up and down the road. Two minutes later she found the dirt bike in a ditch, undamaged. She pushed it back to the clinic and hid it behind the SUV.

  Rose approached Mercy, “Reckon I know where the camp is. You willing to do this for her? Her husband and son sound fucked otherwise—”

  Mercy approached the woman, “What’s your husband’s name?”

  The woman winced and held her belly, “Sorry, the baby’s kicking. It’s Rick… and my son’s name is Jesse, he’s seven.” She turned to the young girl, “This here’s my daughter Annie, she’s six.”

  “Rick and Jesse… right, got it. Look, you’re in no state to come with us. Stay here and don’t move. We’ll go check this camp out and return back here either way. You got that?”

  The woman started to protest but saw the look in Mercy’s eyes and nodded, “Yes, I understand but please, try your best. Me and Annie ain’t got nobody else, they was all killed back in D.C.—”

  Mercy caught Rose’s look, “You’re from D.C.?”

  The woman nodded, “Yes, we left two weeks ago. We nearly died, the city is surrounded by those… things—”

  “OK, so we’ve gotta go now and look for your people. We’ll talk more when we get back—” Mercy nodded at Rose. “Let’s go.”

  They left the woman and her daughter standing beside the SUV and walked towards the forest.

  “Why are we doing this Rose?” Mercy said.

  “Beats me,” Rose replied, she grabbed a handful of hessian sacks from the back of a flatbed truck.

  Mercy breathed out, “Maybe… because it’s the right thing to do—?”

  Rose pondered Mercy’s words as they entered the trees. “Me? I’ve given up on right and wrong a long time ago—”

  Mercy shrugged, “You know? I thought I had too Rose but life’s full of surprises—”

  They made their way through the trees. After five minutes Rose held up a hand and pointed to the left. A chain link fence was visible through the undergrowth. They stopped and listened to the forest. Mercy nodded and they moved forwards.

  Damn, it’s big—

  The fence extended at least three hundred yards in both directions. Mercy took in the detail.

  Razor
wire on top, outer and inner fenced areas. Old contact points, so electrified at one time. It’s not been maintained, tropes look sluggish, wasted, but there’s… thousands of them in there—

  Mercy turned to Rose. “How do you want to do this?”

  Rose shrugged, “We got the biotech, so up and over I guess. Keep it simple. You saw the map she drew, her husband should be over on the other side, in the hut with the red roof. It’s in its own fenced off area—”

  “Yeah, I saw that. Nice.”

  Rose pointed to the right, “So anyway, I like the look of that overgrown part of the fence, fifty yards down. Looks like it could hold our weight. We can use these sacks for the razor wire—”

  “OK, so long as it’s not poison ivy we’re good—”

  They made their way to the overgrown section of fence. The camp was a mixture of prefabricated huts and large, heavy duty tents, most of which were damaged. Tropes were wandering aimlessly through the camp, some stood swaying from side to side, others were gathered in huddles, still, like statues.

  This place creeps me out—

  Mercy gave Rose a boost up the ivy clad fence. Rose placed the hessian sacks over the razor wire.

  Smart girl—

  Mercy started climbing the ivy when Rose gave the signal. She made it to the top of the fence a minute later. Rose was waiting for her, straddling the fence.

  “Good to go?” Rose asked.

  “Yeah, good to go,” Mercy answered.

  Rose swung her legs over the top and dropped down onto the other side of the fence. Mercy looked at the soft ground fifteen feet below and swore.

  Here goes nothing—

  Mercy landed beside Rose and looked up. The tropes ignored them and continued their aimless wandering. Mercy and Rose walked slowly, keeping close to the fence, they covered sixty yards then Mercy stopped. She tapped Rose and pointed to the centre of the camp. They made their way through the tropes, the muddy ground sucking at their boots. Mercy blocked out the stench and pressed on amid the lost, skeletal faces. Five minutes later they stood outside the small, fenced compound within the camp. Tropes jostled against them in the narrow space between the huts.

  Rose pointed at the red roofed building ten feet away, “That’s the one she described. They should be in there.”

  Mercy inspected the intact fence, “How are we going to get up that? I could give you a boost but we’d need a rope to get me up, and we need something for the razor wire—”

  Rose stiffened, “Act like one of them.”

  Mercy dropped her head and slumped her shoulders. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “On top of the roof, behind the chimney; an alpha, one of them fast ones. It’s just sitting there, didn’t see it at first, it’s not moving.”

  Understanding washed through Mercy, “It’s doing that hunting shit again, waiting for Rick and Jesse to make the first move and leave the hut.”

  “It’s not seen us,” Rose replied. “What do we do? If we shoot at it the whole camp wakes up to us, we’ll be torn apart—”

  “And we need to get over this fence,” Mercy added, she glanced at a row of huts at the end of the camp. “Follow me, maybe we can find something over there—”

  They moved through the tropes to the line of huts and circled around the back, out of view of the alpha. A workshop of sorts lay behind one of the huts; benches lined with tools and various materials. Rose went to one of the benches and stooped to pick something up from underneath. She lifted a jerry can and a pair of oily overalls. She shook the fuel can, then opened the cap. A smile crept across her face.

  “Kerosene, we can use this, look there’s rags, bottles too. We’ve got ourselves Molitovs—”

  Mercy shook her head, “No, no petrol bombs, that won’t solve our problem. Think, think—”

  Rose pulled a face, “Well then, we’ve got a diversion.”

  Mercy nodded, “Better, yes, if in doubt burn it down.” She looked around, “Or if we do it right we can make it mostly smoke… with some flames. That ought to draw the tropes down this end… which might draw the alpha too—”

  Rose pulled out cabling from under the next bench, “We could use this as rope to pull you up the fence.”

  “You’re on a roll Rose,” Mercy said. “Right, let’s get this fire going then head back to the fence.”

  Twenty minutes later they had returned to the fence around the inner compound. Mercy stared at the smoke billowing from the workshop. The breeze was blowing it across the camp, flames were beginning to lick the side of one of the huts. The tropes sensed the warmth and started to move towards the fire. Mercy and Rose stood at the corner of the fence, watching the tropes shuffle towards the burning hut. The wind direction changed a few minutes later blowing acrid smoke in their direction. Mercy managed to supress the urge to cough.

  “Can’t see the alpha from this angle, but I spotted it on the way back, it’s still there, behind the chimney—” Rose whispered.

  “Smoke’s helping a lot, I think we should climb up now, tropes are thinning out here. I’ll give you a boost—”

  Rose nodded, “Ready.”

  Mercy gave Rose a boost then watched as she wrapped the oily overalls around the razor wire and attached the cabling to the fence post. The smoke made Mercy’s eyes water, obscuring her view of the red roof.

  If we can’t see him, he can’t see us… and the smoke might mask our scent—

  Rose dropped to the other side and covered Mercy with her shotgun. Mercy used the cabling to climb up the fence. She straddled the covered razor wire. Her throat tickled, irritated by the smoke, a cough welled up in her lungs.

  Don’t. Cough—

  The cough escaped, she cursed as she swung herself over the razor wire. She landed in the long grass on the other side of the fence and looked up at Rose through streaming eyes. Rose was tense, her face smudged with dirt and oil.

  Shit, if Rose heard my cough, that thing could’ve heard. Dammit, get on with it—

  Mercy unslung her M4. Rose went to the back of the hut and peered around the corner. She stared at the roof then disappeared around the side. Mercy followed. Rose was making hand signals at a window near the chimney breast. Mercy looked up, M4 at the ready.

  Rose returned, “They’re in there, the father seems OK, the kid looks knocked about, blood on his head but moving about OK. There’s a front room with a window set back from the chimney, they’re going to climb through. We need to go back along the side—”

  Mercy nodded, “Watch our six—”

  Mercy took a step back and lifted her M4. Something heavy landed on the ground behind her, sharp nails tore into her jacket. Muscular arms grabbed her. Mercy threw herself back against her attacker. Her feet slipped on the wet grass.

  Mercy’s hair was wrenched back exposing the soft flesh of her neck. A blur registered in her vision and she jerked away. Stinking odour and a glimpse of teeth came next followed by a deafening blast and searing heat. The vice like grip on her hair and neck vanished as the alpha slumped to the ground its skull destroyed by Rose’s point blank slug round. Mercy fell on top of the alpha’s twitching body, her mind blank.

  “Come on Mercy, no time to fuck around. Get up,” Rose’s voice, distant, distorted by a high pitched ringing in her left ear.

  Jesus Rose—

  Mercy rubbed her neck. The skin was intact.

  Rose’s hand appeared in front of her face. “Now Mercy, the natives are getting restless, they’re on to us—”

  Mercy grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled herself up. The sound of breaking glass came from behind, Mercy turned to see a boy, then a man, clamber out of the side window. The man had a full length fire axe strapped across his back.

  Ralph… no, Rick and … Jesse—

  The man was muscular and bearded, his eyes were full of questions, “Look, I don’t know who you are but thanks. That thing was relentless—” he looked back, towards the flaming huts. “Those fuckers are coming back, we gotta get to t
he front gates. I’ll give you a lift up the fence—”

  Rose glanced at Mercy, “This is Rick and Jessie. Wake up. Get your shit together, we’re outta here.”

  Rick gave Rose a boost, then Mercy. They climbed over the covered razor wire and dropped to the other side. Rick hoisted his son in a fireman’s lift and climbed up and over the fence.

  A bedraggled female trope broke away from the advancing swarm of dead and ran at Rose. Rose aimed the Winchester and fired, blasting a hole in the trope’s chest, it fell to the ground. The tropes behind tripped over the fallen body.

  “Go, go, go,” Mercy shouted.

  Rick grabbed his son and ran from the tropes. Flames had engulfed the neighbouring huts and more smoke was billowing through the camp. Mercy followed Rick as he weaved through huts and tents.

  He’s either an ex-football player or a firefighter—

  Rick ran towards a large double gate in the distance. Mercy’s eyes latched onto the fire axe strapped to his back, she caught up with him. A cry came from behind.

  Rose—?

  Mercy seized the axe and swung around. Rose was on the ground, pinned down by a sleek female alpha. Rose was blocking the trope’s attack with her shotgun but the alpha was overpowering her, its teeth snapping inches from her face.

  I’ve got no choice—

  Mercy swung the axe with both hands.

  Chapter 37

  Intel

  The axe struck the alpha in the back shattering its shoulder blade. It rolled to the left, hissing at Mercy, the axe embedded in bone. Rose lifted her shotgun with one hand and fired point blank. The slug round shattered the alpha’s knee, it let out a high pitched shriek. Rose jumped up and crushed the alpha’s skull with the Winchester’s stock. She wrenched the axe from the thing’s back. The emaciated trope horde staggered forwards on their rotting limbs.

  “Hey… a little help over here…” Rick called out. He was at the gates, his son in his arms. He nodded at a length of chain and a padlock securing the gates. “A couple of rounds ought to do it—”

  “Now would be good Rose,” Mercy said, her voice tense.

  Mercy unslung her M4 and started shooting at the tropes emerging from between the nearest prefabricated huts.