No rank smell. No banging. No noise—
Mercy stared at Rose and they sat. Listening. Waiting.
Mercy felt her muscles stiffen. Rose held out her hands and inspected the adrenaline tremor that gripped them. Ten minutes passed, then another ten. Mercy closed her eyes and sunk back into the chair. She exhaled, releasing the tension from her body.
I just want to sit here, close my eyes and forget everything. I want to sleep and eat and smoke and drink and be with… Christ, Flynn where are you?
Rose stirred. “What you said, back there… you’re right. They don’t know it’s us they’re chasing. If we lie low for a bit and rest, we can find Stanton Park later and see if Barnes is there—”
“Yeah, we’ll do that. But first I want to change your dressing and check the wound, just in case—” Mercy sat up.
Mercy cleaned Rose’s head wound with the last of the saline and redressed it. “It’s clean, the glue’s holding. You’ll survive.”
“Thanks,” Rose said and slumped to the floor.
Mercy pulled out the city map she had taken from the shopping trolley in the sewer. She spread it on the dining table in the centre of the room and examined it. “We’re only a couple of blocks from Stanton Park… and you were right Rose, that was Union Station back there—”
“What are you thinking?” Rose rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
“We need food and water. We’ll search this floor and lie low. Rest and sleep. I don’t want to catch the attention of any drones out there—”
“Drones,” Rose repeated the word, her voice slurring. Her shoulders slumped, her breathing deepened and her head sunk to her chest.
“You rest Rose, we’ll stay here for the moment,” Mercy wedged a chair against the internal door and bolted the French doors. She sat back in the winged chair and closed her eyes.
A bang woke Mercy. She looked around the room. Rose was still asleep in the corner. The French doors and the internal door were as she had left them.
All good. We’re secure. So, what was that noise—?
Mercy waited, her M16 trained on the door. Ten minutes passed. She stood up and went over to Rose. “Hey Rose, wake up girl. I think we’ve got company. I heard something. Let’s go check it out—”
Rose opened her eyes, “I’m thirsty.” She focused on Mercy’s face, “Yeah, let’s check it out.” Rose took out her pistol and knife. “Good to go—”
Mercy shouldered her M16 and pulled out her HK45 pistol and combat knife. “I’ll take point, we need to keep any killing silent.”
Rose nodded, “Got your back—”
They left the room and searched the corridor and open rooms beyond. Rose looked through one of the kitchen windows and spotted a downpipe feeding into a rain barrel beside an outhouse. She grabbed some pans from the kitchen and went out to fill them. They slaked their thirst and moved to the end of the corridor and the last, closed room. Mercy listened at the door then opened it, scanning the interior. A hissing sound came from under a corner table. She entered the room, her pistol aimed at the sound.
“What is it? A racoon?” Rose stepped in after Mercy.
A small black shape darted across the floor towards the street facing window. Mercy aimed and fired. Her bullet hit its mark and the animal’s body slammed against the wall.
“No, it’s a cat,” relief surged through Mercy. “That’s our next meal right there.” Mercy went over to the dead animal and picked it up.
Hope there’s no watchers following this one—
Rose examined the cat’s hiding place under the table. “Correction, cat and a pigeon,” she held up a mauled pigeon carcass. “We’ll feast like kings tonight—”
“It was using that cat flap in the window,” Mercy pointed at the grime covered window. “Water, cat and pigeon, well it’s better than snails. I saw a few of them in the back yard when we came in. I was leaving them as a last resort.”
“Snails are considered a delicacy in some parts of the world. Were considered a delicacy,” Rose paused. She smiled, “I had cat back in New York a few times, tastes like chicken, at least if you tell your brain it’s chicken it seems to work.”
“It’ll work,” Mercy said.
They prepared the meat and waited until dark before lighting a small fire in the grate. They cooked the meat well and extinguished the fire immediately afterwards. Rose took the first mouthful and chewed.
“Chicken, like I said,” Rose grinned.
Mercy took a bite, “It’s hella good, ain’t it? I like fast food.”
“Yeah, it did move pretty fast, didn’t it? Nice shot by the way—”
Their spirits soared with the food and water. They examined the map of the city again, memorising landmarks and main roads.
“It’s a long shot, but hopefully we’ll find Barnes tomorrow,” Rose said.
“Yeah, let’s hope he’s there,” Mercy echoed.
I don’t want to tempt fate. We’ll see what the new day brings—
They dozed the rest of the night and woke at first light. They left the house and headed down 5th Street Northeast. Mercy’s eyes darted left and right, her brow furrowed.
Too many places for the NSA to hide, for drones, for an ambush. Jesus, this is hopeless, what are we gonna do if Barnes isn’t there—?
Mercy stared down the street at Stanton Park in the distance.
What if—? There are too many what-ifs in life. Well, you know what? Fuck the what-ifs—
Mercy quickened the pace and gripped her rifle. They passed a school on their right, the empty classroom windows resembled broken teeth.
School’s out—
The trees rustled in the easterly breeze, birds called from the branches, the city was otherwise silent. Mercy looked at her watch; 5:13 am.
He’s got to be there—
A junction lay ahead of them. Mercy’s eyes narrowed.
A T-junction and… a statue over there. A man on a horse… that’ll be it—
They approached Stanton Park, slowing as they neared the junction. Mercy stopped under a tree and watched the park ahead. She turned to Rose, about to speak, when a deep boom penetrated the morning air. A wave of nausea gripped her, she bent over and retched. Rose put a hand on Mercy’s shoulder.
“Lincoln Park’s not that far away, that’ll be the NSA’s boom box. Come on, let’s get this done, that weird-looking NSA plane will be in the area soon—” Rose stepped out from under the tree and walked across C Street Northeast to Stanton Park.
Mercy followed Rose, she watched the trees and surrounding streets. The booming continued in the distance. Rose made straight for the bronze statue of the horseman. She went to the three tiered plinth and walked around it, touching it with her finger tips.
Mercy followed Rose. She read the inscription on the far side:
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF NATHANAEL GREENE, ESQUIRE
A NATIVE OF THE STATE OF RHODE ISLAND
WHO DIED ON THE 19TH OF JUNE 1786
LATE MAJOR GENERAL IN THE SERVICE OF THE U.S.
AND COMMANDER OF THEIR ARMY IN THE SOUTHERN DEPARTMENT.
Rose was examining the plinth, her eyes scanning its surface from the ground up. Mercy’s eyes darted to the trees and the long grass surrounding them.
Shit, I don’t like this, we’re surrounded by buildings looking down on us. 360 degrees of exposure—
Mercy caught up with Rose on the north side of the plinth, “Look Rose, I think we should—”
“There, THERE, do you see it—?” Rose pointed at the plinth above her head.
Mercy read the inscription:
THE UNITED STATES CONGRESS
ASSEMBLED IN HONOR OF HIS PATRIOTISM,
VALOR, AND ABILITY HAVE ERECTED THIS MONUMENT.
Mercy pulled a face, “What? It’s just more of the same—”
Rose sighed, “No not that… THAT—” she reached up and slapped the stone two feet above her head.
Mercy stepped closer to t
he plinth and looked up. A stylised eye in profile had been scratched into the stone with the letter B beside it.
“It’s him, it has to be,” Mercy blurted out.
“Yeah, only a tall bastard would write a message that high for someone of our size to read. It’s him alright. He’s here, he’s alive—”
Mercy looked around, “Yeah, but where?”
“If he’s got his scope he could be watching us from anywhere, but,” Rose spun around, “line of sight to one of those buildings through the trees to this spot would make sense. Top floor likely, he could be watching us right now—”
“Or he could be asleep… or taking a dump. What if we miss him? We can’t stay out here in the open—”
Rose took out her knife, “Agreed, let’s leave a message and go and check out that townhouse over there. It’s the nearest and has a good view through the trees. There’s three other possible houses that I can see from here, we’ll try them all if we have to—”
Mercy stared at the three townhouses as Rose scraped the letter R in a circle beside Barnes’s message.
“He’ll know it’s us if he gets this—” Rose said.
“Yeah, it’s not as if we can leave instructions. OK? Done? Let’s go—”
They returned through the trees to C Street Northeast. A terrace of narrow townhouses lined the street. Mercy headed to the nearest one they had seen from the plinth. The steps to the front door were covered in ivy. Plastic garbage bins lay overturned on the sidewalk. She stepped over the bins, her eyes on the windows.
He’d need to be on the top floor to see the statue. Nothing, no movement—
Mercy climbed the steps and reached the front door.
Rose put a hand on Mercy’s shoulder, “Careful, it’s Barnes, he could have booby trapped the entrance. If he doesn’t know it’s us he could shoot first—”
Mercy nodded, “Yeah, I know. So let’s play safe and get down on the stoop. I’ll reach up and try the door.”
Rose grunted and lay down on the step below Mercy. Mercy stretched her arm up to the door handle and twisted. The door opened an inch then stopped.
“There’s something behind it,” Mercy whispered.
“Jesus, could be a frag, rigged up to blow. Be careful—”
Mercy took her knife and ran it up slowly through the opening. Her blade encountered resistance halfway. She stood to one side of the door and motioned at Rose to step back.
Mercy swallowed, “Here goes nothing.”
She flicked her wrist, slicing through the resistance. A loud crash came from the other side of the door.
Sound trap—
Mercy pushed the door open, making more noise as it hit the pots and pans that had made up the trap.
Go on, do it—
Mercy stepped over the threshold, her hands raised and clearly visible. “Barnes? Barnes? It’s us, Mercy and Rose. Barnes? Don’t shoot—”
A floorboard creaked overhead and a shadow moved on the first floor landing.
“What’s the code word?” A man’s voice.
Barnes.
Relief washed over Mercy. “Hey Barnes, it’s me, Mercy. It’s all good, we’re good, don’t shoot—”
“I repeat, what’s the code word?” Barnes’s voice was taut.
Code word? Shit I can’t remember the code word. Shit, shit, shit—
“It’s Dawes you idiot, you thought of it, it’s your own fucking name for Chrissake—” Rose said from behind.
Thanks Rose—
“Dawes. It’s Dawes. DAWES. Barnes stop playing games, you’re creeping me out—” Mercy shouted.
Barnes stepped out from the shadows on the landing. His face was gaunt, his eyes wild.
Wow… he looks… unhinged—
Barnes beckoned at Mercy. “You actually made it. After that shit went down at the mine—” he looked pensive. “You’d better come up. Make sure you secure the door behind you.”
They joined Barnes in a top floor room, overlooking the park. Mercy glanced around the floor.
Two rifles, couple of pistols, ammo, frags, bucket of water, MREs—
“You’ve been busy then?” Mercy gestured at the gear.
Barnes grunted, “Got lucky, picked off a couple of NSA stragglers, they got careless, they’ve had the run of the city for too long. Most of the tropes are drawn to the tower in Lincoln Park. Did you see that shit?”
“Yeah. It’s fucking insane,” Rose sat on the floor beside the ready meals. She picked up one of the MREs, “Chilli con carne, well what do you know?” She tore open the MRE and started devouring the contents using her fingers.
Mercy slumped into a chair by the window.
Barnes eyed her warily, “So what happened… at the mine?”
Mercy filled Barnes in on events since they had been separated. He listened, deep in thought. After she had finished he took a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it.
“I was saving this for a special occasion. I guess this is as special as it gets,” he blew a cloud of fragrant blue smoke across the room and handed the cigar to Mercy.
Mercy closed her eyes and reclined in the chair. She puffed on the cigar for a few minutes then passed it to Rose. “So what about you Barnes? What happened at the gates?”
Barnes shifted uncomfortably. “Well you saw the armour that appeared there. Amber and Willow were too slow. They were caught… shit happens. I made it out, the ghillie suit probably helped. Not much I could do for them against that much fire power. I made it here from the north, found a breach in the northern wall and came in at night. Tricky enough with all the tropes flooding in, but they were keeping to the main drag. They’re being pulled in by that sound—”
A deep roar interrupted Mercy’s thoughts. She went to the window and looked outside. A large shadow moved across the park from west to east.
“That’ll be the NSA in their Osprey, they’re selecting the strongest feral alphas from the horde. They’re drawing them in with that sound, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. I reckon they’re building an army out of those fuckers—” Barnes pulled out a strip of pills from his pack.
“Either that or they’re experimenting on them. Improving them somehow,” Rose said. She was surrounded by a cloud of cigar smoke.
Probably both—
“Yeah, well we’ve met some of the improved ones, ain’t we?” Mercy eyed Barnes as he pushed a pill out of the strip and swallowed it. She caught his eye.
“Want some?” Barnes said, his voice taut, his movements quick. “It’s meth, it’ll keep you going. You might as well, none of us are getting out of here alive are we? Got this batch from those two NSA bastards—”
Methamphetamine? He’s hooked. Jesus, the NSA are on it too—?
Mercy shook her head, “No thanks Barnes, I’m good—”
Barnes offered the pills to Rose who also declined.
We’ve got to channel him. If we use Barnes the right way he’ll be an asset, if we get it wrong he’ll be a liability—
Barnes grinned at Mercy, his right hand shaking slightly. “So, you’ve figured it out then?”
“What?” Mercy asked.
“The way in. You’ve seen the fucking huge concrete wall around the Mall right?” Barnes replied.
Mercy shrugged, remembering the overhanging wall they had seen from Union Station. “Yeah, we saw it—”
Barnes looked out the window, “It’s easy. Trojan horse. Troy. You infiltrate the horde, you’ll be OK with your biotech. Climb up that sonic tower, get into a body bag and take a ride down the shoot into their facility. If any alphas try and grab you in the crowd I’ll waste them for you. I’ll be your guardian angel on a rooftop,” he patted his sniper rifle. “Boom, you’re in—”
Tower, body bag, chute—?
Mercy frowned and went to the window. “No fucking way Barnes. Are you insane? Did you see how many of the fuckers there were in Lincoln Park? Thousands. Tens of thousands. All it would take is for one alpha to latch onto me… us,�
� Mercy looked at Rose, “not to mention the NSA in the sky. No, no way in hell—”
Barnes’s face fell, “You could go in at night when the NSA aren’t overhead. My scope… it’s a night scope, I can cover you. We could have an alarm signal; raise your arms, wave a flag or something. It could be done—”
“Read my lips Barnes. No. Fucking. Way.”
Mercy turned her back on Barnes and looked out of the window at Stanton Park below. A distant boom came from Lincoln Park. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
How are we going to get in?
Chapter 33
Recon
“We need intel,” Rose said, returning the cigar to Barnes.
Mercy nodded, “Rick… the guy we rescued from the FEMA camp, he said Mitchell’s government were holed up under the Smithsonian Museum. So we need to recon that area of the wall. There has to be supplies going in and out; trucks, personnel—”
“Yeah, worth checking out,” Barnes agreed. “Although, if I were them I’d use the DC Metro for access to the Mall. Easily fortified and defendable—”
“OK, so like I said, we recon the area—” Mercy replied.
Rose examined the map of DC spread out on the floor. “Me and Mercy could probe the wall near the Smithsonian. Barnes, if you find an OP near Constitution Avenue Northeast or Independence Avenue Southeast you can scope all along the wall from east to west. You’ll be able to see any patrols or trucks coming and going. That’d be a big help—”
Barnes looked at the map, “Yeah, I could cover a lot of ground with that line of sight. There’s enough places I could use as an OP. Yeah, OK. I like it, we could meet up in twenty four hours, should give us something to chew on.”
Mercy gazed at the map. “OK, that’s settled then. Where do you want to rendezvous in twenty four hours?”
Rose tapped the map, “Folger Park here, looks about right. Same MO as before; there’ll be some monument or bench or tree at the centre of the park. Carve a message, with clear line of sight to a building and hold up in there. If everything goes to shit, we can meet back here instead?”
Mercy nodded.
“Works for me,” Barnes said. “You’re getting the hang of this shit—”
The Survival Chronicles (Book 6): Dark Mercy Page 23