You’ve got to be kidding? Who are these guys? Mercy asked herself.
Three more dogs emerged from the forest in silence. Had they trained the dogs to be silent? Mercy remembered hearing about a procedure to silence dogs by cutting their vocal cords, a silent dog would not attract tropes. Four gagged and bound figures stumbled from the forest followed by a man on horseback.
Mercy’s fingernails clawed the wood as she watched. Rose, Vince, Dakota and Stevie were herded into the car park, tied together by rope around their waists, their arms bound behind them, their mouths gagged. The dogs circled them snapping at their feet.
The men waited in silence watching the building and forest. A strangled cry came from behind the building, a minute later Tawny and Rites staggered into the carpark pushed by a group of six women armed with spears and swords. Tawny’s face was bloodied, Rites held his right arm, blood seeped through his fingers.
Shit, shit, shit— Mercy thought. The familiar feeling of losing control welled up in her stomach. This was why she operated alone, this was what happened when you involved others.
Where’s Flynn?
The women wore camouflaged clothing and moved silently. Rites and Tawny were gagged, their hands bound. The women pushed them towards the uniformed man, he inspected the new prisoners and their captured weapons. He nodded and the women shoved Tawny and Rites towards the other prisoners. The leader kicked his horse and turned away from the carpark towards the forest. The women went ahead of the column and melted into the forest.
The women are the scouts. I need to follow them, where’s Flynn? Mercy waited, she should be able to pick up the trail left by the horses, they were headed north, deeper into the forest. She waited fifteen minutes, watching.
Bastards—
Movement at the edge of the forest. Four armed women stood up from the undergrowth and walked away.
Clever, leave people behind, to flush out anyone hiding, nice— Mercy thought. OK, Flynn where are you?
Mercy moved out from under the deck and moved along the shoreline circling the building. Movement on the roof caught her eye, she froze levelling her Peacemakers at the spot. Flynn’s face peered over the edge of the flat roof. Mercy stood up and waved, Flynn saw her and brought his finger to his lips. He swung over the side and dropped to the ground.
Mercy ran over to him, they embraced.
“Did you see that? Who are those people?” Flynn asked.
“Yeah, I saw what happened. Big group, organised, disciplined, quiet. Jesus, even the dogs were quiet. They left scouts behind to make sure there was no one else,” Mercy replied.
“I saw them and kept down, otherwise—”
“I know. We’ve got to follow them, see what they’re up to, we have to free the others,” Mercy said.
Flynn reached out and held Mercy’s arm, “We need to do this properly, there’s only two of us, we’ll get one shot at this. We need a plan.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Mercy replied.
They set off after the horsemen. The trail was easy to follow.
Too easy, too easy, too easy— Mercy’s internal voice warned.
They continued north for forty minutes, the trees began to thin out. The sky was bright blue, a soft breeze rustled the leaves. The smell of damp earth filled the air. Something’s missing— Mercy thought. The ground steepened bringing them to a road, a landslide ahead had reclaimed a stretch of the road, blocking their view north. The horse tracks led up and over the landslide.
They followed the road and climbed to the top of the landslide, crawling the last few feet. Mercy peered over the top and blinked, a wall rose two hundred yards away beyond the trees, gun emplacements and searchlights bristled along the top. The wall’s surface looked smooth, its top lip curved outwards. It was well maintained.
Flynn pointed to an old sign below them: TOLL INFO call 800 333-TOLL. “This is the road to the Henry Hudson Bridge, why are they heading towards the wall?”
Rose looked at Flynn her eyes wide. “OK, so we need to get off the road, back into the forest and scope this out, agreed?”
Flynn nodded.
They left the landslip and dropped down the slope into the forest to the left of the road. Mercy moved, Peacemakers at the ready. The road lay on their right descending to the wall. They crept forwards listening and watching.
Where are the birds, the insects? Mercy wondered— the forest was too quiet. In the city there had been birds, roaches, other bugs. Something to do with the wall, the military?
The wall grew nearer, the trees thinned. Mercy signalled to Flynn, he nodded. They crawled to the edge of the open ground in front of the wall. The wall ran across the road with no visible entrance. The ground beneath the wall was free from trees and plants, a high fence ran along its base, yellow signs displayed at intervals:
WARNING: ELECTRIC FENCE DANGER OF DEATH
WARNING: MINEFIELD DANGER OF DEATH
It was not the fence or the minefield that grabbed Mercy’s attention. It was the cage on the road integral to the fence. The cage containing Vince, Rose, Dakota, Stevie, Rites and Tawny.
Flynn swore and started to rise. Mercy pulled him down, “Wait, wait, this has got trap written all over it—”
Something sharp and painful lanced into Mercy’s neck, her body went limp.
“You’re quite right Mercy Dawes— we’ve been waiting two years to extract you. It’s good to finally meet.”
A booted foot rolled Mercy over. A figure in in a yellow Hazmat suit stood over her, she stared at its visor’s reflective surface. Another suited figure was crouching, holding an electronic device over Flynn’s eyes.
“He’s infected just like the others,” a disembodied voice said.
Mercy’s captor produced a similar device bringing it close to her eyes. A blue light made Mercy blink. “Central, the girl is clear, as we thought, repeat Dawes is clear.”
A nearby radio crackled into life, “Bring the subject and control in, dispose of the others.”
To be continued…
About the Author
Fergal F. Nally is an outdoors lover often to be found in amongst it all in the Scottish Highlands. His passions are hillwalking, music, and reading great stories. He lives in Edinburgh. Mercy Kill— The Survival Chronicles is his seventh novel.
The Survival Chronicles (Book 1}: Mercy Kill Page 24