The Survival Chronicles (Book 1}: Mercy Kill

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The Survival Chronicles (Book 1}: Mercy Kill Page 13

by Nally, Fergal F.


  After a few minutes Arabella’s breathing settled, “We’re going to be OK, we’re going to be OK,” she repeated.

  “That’s it Bella, that’s it, good girl,” Rose whispered.

  The silence was almost worse than the screaming.

  “I know they’re down there waiting for us,” Arabella said after a while. “What are we going to do Rose?”

  “Climb, Bella… we’re going to climb. We know what side the doors are on, it’s only a short distance to the first floor right? We can climb up the shaft using the cables and metalwork, get to the next door and open it. It’s a school right? So there’ll be fire exits, fire escapes, we can get out using the fire escape.”

  Arabella was silent.

  Rose knew she had to press home the plan or Arabella would be paralysed with fear. “So let’s do it now, come on, I’ll go first.”

  “No, let’s go together, I don’t want to be left down here, with those things,” Arabella whispered.

  “OK together it is,” Rose agreed.

  They made sure the hatch was locked and started exploring the elevator shaft with their hands. A metal frame lined the concrete shaft, there were handholds and footholds. Rose reached up placing her hands on a crossbar and pulled herself up. She heard Arabella struggling below, she reached down, “Here, take my hand Bella.”

  Arabella reached out and their hands met, she pulled herself up, breathing fast.

  “Good, good girl Bella, we can do this, just take it easy, slow. One movement at a time,” Rose said.

  “Yeah—” was all Arabella could manage.

  Rose felt above and found the next steel girder. A loud bang came from below, the tropes were having another go at the hatch, it had to hold a bit longer. Her muscles protested at the stretch, her arms and legs shook. Rose made the move and pulled herself up her heart pounding. “OK Bella, your turn,” her words were swallowed by the darkness.

  Rose could hear Arabella searching for the next handhold. Arabella was two years younger than her and a couple of inches shorter. Rose crouched on the crossbar making sure she had a good grip. She leant into space above Arabella and stretched down. “My hand’s just here Bella, just above you, not far to go, take my hand if you can,” Rose instructed.

  Arabella’s breathing was loud and rapid, she was panicking, there was nothing more Rose could do, Arabella had to make the moves herself. Then Rose remembered her belt. “Hang on Bella, hang on a second, I’m just going to take off my belt, it’ll reach you,” Rose said. She fumbled at her buckle and removed the belt wrapping it around her left hand, she lowered it into the shaft.

  “There Bella, can you reach my belt? It should be just above you—”

  Arabella’s muscles were shaking, sweat stung her eyes, she had a pain in her chest, it was difficult to breathe. She reached out with her right hand and found the belt. It supported her, allowing her to take some of the weight off her left leg.

  “Got it,” Arabella croaked.

  “Good, climb now, use the belt. I’ve got you, you’re OK but you need to climb up, I can’t pull you,” Rose said, trying to keep her voice calm.

  Arabella used the belt to steady herself and was able to feel her way up the vertical beam to Rose. She jumped, her left hand reaching the girder, her feet met the wall. Using the belt and her handhold she pulled herself part way up then began to slip. Fear coursed through her, she lost her grip and came away from the bar.

  Arabella’s legs scrabbled frantically against the wall, her knees banged against the cabling, grazing her skin. With great effort she brought her feet to bear on the cabling and found a foothold. She lay against the wall panting, her right arm felt it would pop from its socket, but she held onto the belt.

  Arabella had to make the move, she was committed. She jumped from the cabling and reached the horizontal bar with both hands. Rose grabbed her arm and hauled her up, Arabella managed to get her knee on the bar to steady herself. Her chest felt it would explode, with a last effort and with Rose’s help Arabella lifted herself to a standing position on the bar beside Rose.

  “Well done Bella, well done, breathe, breathe, hold on tight,” Rose said.

  Rose waited for Arabella to recover, she held her close, comforting her, encouraging her.

  “We’re going to make it Bella, we’re nearly there, I felt the door, it’s just above us.”

  Arabella nodded. “Let’s do it now, otherwise I’ll seize up.”

  The banging on the elevator roof below them intensified, as if the tropes sensed their escape. Rose hugged Arabella again then turned her attention to the door frame above. She slung the belt around her shoulders in case it was needed again. Reaching up she explored the door frame with her fingertips, she felt a lip she could pull on, she needed a boost.

  “Bella, I need you to give me a lift, are you up for that?” Rose asked Arabella.

  “Yes, just a second.” Arabella stood, her back to the shaft wall, she spread her feet along the horizontal bar and put her two hands together. “OK Rose, ready when you are.”

  Rose felt for Arabella’s shoulders and arms, she readied herself. She placed her left foot in Arabella’s hands and stepped up grabbing the lip of the door frame. She pulled herself up and managed to place her knee on the lip. A draught cooled her face, she realised the door was partially open, she thrust her right arm through the opening and was able to haul herself to a standing position.

  Rose caught her breath and peered through the opening, the corridor beyond was dark and quiet. She put both hands on the lift doors and started pushing them apart, they moved enough for her to squeeze through. Once in the corridor she was able to force the doors open a little more. Speed was of the essence, Arabella was next.

  Nothing stirred in the corridor, Rose made out a sliver of light at the far end of the building. She lay down with the belt and dangled it down the shaft.

  “Bella, your turn, same drill, I’ve got good holds here, here’s the belt, grab onto it, climb up. I’ve got you—”

  There was a long pause.

  “What’s wrong Bella? Are you OK?” Rose asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good, just getting it together,” Arabella replied. Then, “Ready?”

  “Ready,” Rose confirmed, bracing herself.

  Rose felt Arabella grab the belt, her body slid along the floor towards the opening, she jammed her shoulders against the doors using both hands to hold the belt. Arabella scrambled her way up the shaft using her arms, knees and feet. Her face appeared out of the dark.

  “OK Bella, use one of your hands to grab onto the door, same with the other hand and you’re home free,” Rose instructed.

  Arabella reached out and held onto the door with her left hand. Rose grabbed her arm and pulled it and the belt at the same time. Arabella’s body appeared over the lip of the door frame and she managed to drag herself through the opening.

  They lay sprawled on the floor panting, sweat beading their foreheads. The banging from the elevator below continued.

  “We’ve got to get out of here now Bella, that hatch’s isn’t going to hold,” Rose said.

  Arabella stood, her legs shaking. “Lead on, good to go.”

  Rose tried to close the lift doors but failed. There was still an opening, the tropes could break through.

  A metallic tearing sound came from the elevator shaft.

  “That’s it, they’ve broken the lock, quick follow me Bella,” Rose said.

  Rose ran down the corridor towards the slit of light. They came to a set of glass doors and another corridor with stairs. Rose continued along the corridor her feet squeaking on the linoleum. The sliver of light became brighter, a few seconds later they stood in front of a large dirt encrusted window.

  The window was part open, a narrow shaft of light spilling in at its base. A long length of plastic sheeting flapped outside. Rose pushed on the window to open it further and peered out onto a fire escape. She turned and grabbed Arabella.

  “Quick climb through
Bella, get down the fire escape.” Rose held the window open.

  Arabella needed no encouragement, she climbed through the opening and landed on the fire escape. Rose looked back through the glass doors, shapes were emerging from the elevator shaft down the corridor.

  Tropes.

  She needed to delay them. Rose looked at the floor and walls— nothing. She still had the belt, she went to the glass doors, passed the belt through the handles and pulled it tight then secured the buckle. The leading trope threw itself at the glass doors its eyes black, its face a rictus of rage. The belt held, the trope screamed in fury banging its face against the glass splitting its lips. Spittle and black bile oozed from its mouth, its sharp teeth snapped at the glass.

  Rose turned and fled through the window to join Arabella below.

  “Jesus Christ, Rose, where were you? I thought they’d got you,” Arabella said.

  “Just delayed them a bit. Let’s get going we don’t have much time,” Rose replied.

  They climbed down the overgrown fire escape lowering the last section to the street.

  “Now’s our chance to get to the truck while they’re occupied above,” Rose said. “Come on Bella, follow me.”

  They ran along the rear of the building and came to an alley which lead back to the main street. Rose picked her way through old garbage and broken glass. They made it to the street and looked up and down Battery Place. The road was empty, South Cove Plaza stared at them a little way up on the right.

  There was the truck. Now was their chance.

  Rose nodded at Arabella. “Now—”

  They ran across the street towards the truck. Rose counted, they reached it in twenty strides, she went around the back of the truck and knelt down.

  “Keep a lookout Bella,” she said.

  Rose parted the weeds and peered into the space beneath the truck, she saw the manhole cover, just as she’d remembered it. She lay on the ground and crawled under the truck.

  “Come on Bella, follow me, it’s safe.”

  Arabella crawled after Rose, replacing the grass and weeds to keep them hidden.

  “OK, what now?” Arabella asked. “We’ve not got the key to lift the cover, how are we going to open it?”

  “Give me a minute, I’m thinking,” Rose replied. “We just need something to lever it up—”

  Arabella crawled towards the front of the truck. “A truck’s got to have a wheel brace or toolbox right?”

  “Yes, but where?” Rose said.

  “There was a box on the side of the truck, I’ll go have a look,” Arabella replied.

  “No wait,” Rose hissed, twisting to face Arabella.

  Arabella was gone. Rose swore, Bella could blow their cover. She heard a noise from the side of the truck. Moments later Arabella appeared through the truck’s skirt of weeds.

  “Here, try these,” Arabella handed Rose a wheel brace and a pair of vice grip pliers.

  Across the street glass shattered. The tropes were on the move. Rose grabbed the wheel brace, three of its heads were too big for the cover’s keyhole but the fourth head fit well.

  Trope screams filled the street. Rose’s hands shook as she leant on the wheel brace, the cover raised an inch. Arabella shoved the pliers into the opening allowing Rose to reposition the wheel brace to increase leverage. Rose pushed the brace down, the manhole cover lifted from its casing. They pushed it aside just enough to allow them access into the darkness below.

  Arabella went first. They climbed down a metal ladder, Rose passed Arabella the wheel brace then pulled at the cover. Trope screams surrounded the truck, she could hear tropes clambering on its roof.

  The manhole cover fell into place and they were plunged into darkness.

  Chapter 15 Safe House

  Mercy looked at Vince. He was only a boy, but had done well to survive so long underground among the freaks. But now he was on the surface, like a fish out of water. He would need looking after. She could not afford to take him under her wing, there had to be another way. She was relieved to be in her second floor apartment. It was untouched, she always covered her tracks, she was difficult to find as were her safe houses. This was how she survived, others found security in numbers but she was a loner, solitude her strength.

  Mercy cleaned and dressed Vince’s hand, it was lucky he hadn’t punctured the skin, one drop of blood and it would have been a different story. They ate some cold food then Vince fell asleep on the floor. The place was a wreck, it was supposed to look a wreck, everything she needed was under the floorboards — food, water, spare clothes, ammunition and weapons.

  Tired but wired, she thought.

  Her hands worked on the Glock G17, cleaning the weapon. Her mind turned to the following day; she’d seek an audience with Laurient. That’s where Flynn had to be, he’d been captured on Angel territory. The penalty for men trespassing on their patch was death, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Flynn was alive, she had to believe it.

  When she had finished cleaning the Glock she lay down and closed her eyes. She had barricaded the windows a long time ago, they were nailed shut, reinforced with wire and wood, blankets hung on the inside to stop light escaping. She left the Glock by her side and closed her eyes.

  The hours passed. The usual night screams and cries came from the streets outside, the tropes were restless. What was stirring them? Her breathing deepened, she dozed fitfully, images of freaks came to her, clawing her, eating her flesh. She awoke to the beeping of her watch alarm, 5:30 am. Cold sweat crawled down her back.

  Dawn.

  Another day alive, another day in Manhattan, another day in hell. She smirked, Hell in Hell’s Kitchen, apt—

  “So what are we doing today sister?” Vince asked from the corner of the room.

  “Don’t— don’t call me that,” Mercy said frowning.

  Vince heard the emotion in her voice. “Hey, sorry, no offence meant—”

  “None taken Vince, it’s just… well we all got a history Vince, you, me, everyone. Know what I mean?” Mercy replied.

  “Yeah Mercy, we all got history—” Vince said.

  It felt weird to have someone around. Mercy was struggling with Vince’s presence, but she owed him big. She went to the window, lifted the blanket and peered through a gap in the wood. “So Vince, I’ve got to do this thing today. I gotta go see a woman about a friend. A guy called Flynn, the guy I told you about. We were separated in Central Park a couple of days ago.”

  “Yeah, I remember you saying. What’s she like, this woman?” Vince asked.

  “Laurient? Well she’s the leader of a group of survivors. They call themselves the Angels, they control Hell’s Kitchen and a strip along the Hudson River. They don’t like men, in fact they kill any they find on their territory, so I’m worried about Flynn. I saw his cap on the street outside last night, and blood. Either the tropes got him or Laurient has him.”

  “So either way, you gotta check with the Angels… to be sure. I understand,” Vince said.

  Silence.

  Vince shuffled uncomfortably. “What do you want to do about me? I mean, I’m kinda out of my depth up here, on the surface. I’m a liability.”

  There it is, he’s said it— Mercy looked away, this was hard. “I can take you with me Vince or you can stay here and I can come back for you.”

  Vince thought then spoke. “If I go with you I’ll hold you up and I might get shot by the Angels, me being a guy. If I stay here I eat all your food and get fat… it’s a no brainer Mercy. I’ll stay here.”

  Mercy breathed out, relieved, he had made it easy for her. “I think that’s the best choice Vince, it’s settled then. I’ll go to Laurient and see what’s happening, then I’ll come back for you.”

  Mercy closed her eyes and thought of her meeting with Laurient. What would she tell her? Would Laurient be in a merciful mood? Laurient did owe her, had even offered her a place amongst the Angels but she had declined.

  “What then?” Vince asked inter
rupting Mercy’s thoughts.

  Mercy blinked. “What?”

  “What then?” Vince repeated. “When you come back, what then?”

  Questions. Mercy cringed, this was why she was a loner, she only had to think about herself, no one else, life was simple. Not now, of course Vince wanted to know what lay ahead, but she didn’t know, how could she? Live from day to day, survive, keep moving, keep alive.

  “Smoke and mirrors, duck and dive, that’s all I know Vince. I take one day at a time, it’s a bonus if I get through another twenty four hours,” Mercy said.

  “I get it, I do. It’s the same for me, I take it any way I can. Don’t worry, I can always start again underground. If things don’t work out up here you can bring me back to the subway station, I’ll find a new place, there’s lots of places down there,” Vince replied.

  Mercy wasn’t convinced. The size of the sinkhole had been impressive, more and more of the subways were flooding, the land was subsiding in places. Vince had done well to survive as long as he had.

  “I can make myself useful when you’re away. Have you any weapons you want cleaned? Or blades needing sharpening?” Vince asked.

  Mercy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Vince shook his head. “Sure, I know my way around guns, I see them through my fingers, I can strip them down, clean and oil them and put them back together.”

  Mercy smiled, the kid had hidden talents. She thought on his offer.

  “Well, I have a bow to restring and some pistols to fix up, I was going to do them myself but if you’re sure— the pistols are pretty dirty, they’re caked in mud, I found them on a construction site, I was going to take a look but if you can check them out that’d be great,” Mercy said.

  She lifted a floorboard and pulled out the guns.

  “Here, two Colt Peacemaker revolvers, I got spare ammo there too,” Mercy gave the pistols to Vince. She moved to the other side of the room and pulled a hunting bow from behind a bookcase together with spare bowstrings and a small toolbox. “Here’s the bow and spare strings, that ought to keep you busy for a while. I’ll give you a key for the apartment ’cos I’ll have to lock you in when I leave.”

 

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