The Survival Chronicles (Book 2): Angel of Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Chapter 16 Aftermath

  Leo looked at his friend’s grave. Jude had been like a brother; strong and always there for him. The sun was shining, Leo closed his eyes and let its light dance across his face, he imagined Jude beside him and not in the ground, he heard Jude’s voice, saw his eyes bright with life. Leo blinked and looked at the sunlight illuminated leaves overhead.

  That’s what Jude did, he illuminated people—

  Leo looked at the kids gathered around the graveside, familiar faces, young but old before their time, their eyes said it all. “Jude was one of us, he stepped forwards to fight and protect us. He is at peace now. He beat us to it, didn’t you Jude?”

  A voice piped up, “We’ll miss you Jude.”

  Another voice, “Thank you Jude.”

  A bird burst into song in the glade, the sunlight through the leaves and the birdsong triggered a distant memory in Leo, he spoke, his voice clear and strong:

  “Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me…You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies: you bless my head with oil; my cup runs over—”

  He could not remember the rest, but it was enough, he could see it in the kids’ faces. He was their leader, they would do anything for him, he would do anything for them, he would die for them. They drifted away from the graveside and walked back to the lodge.

  Mercy picked her way through the undergrowth beside Leo. “Nice words, Leo. You got religion?”

  Leo stared ahead, “I was raised that way, but I knew there was no God when I saw my parents murdered and my brother and sister taken into slavery.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen what happens when people twist religion into power. It gets ugly,” Mercy said.

  They walked in silence for a few minutes. Leo spoke up, “We’ve got three vehicles now and enough fuel to take us to Halifax and then some.”

  “And we’ve got nine automatic rifles, two shotguns, eleven pistols and assorted swords,” Mercy added.

  “Not to mention the weapons we got from your airplane guys,” Leo added.

  “So we’re a force to be reckoned with,” Mercy said. “Will those families in Halifax take us seriously now?”

  “Reckon they will, it’s worth a shot. They want to free the prisoners in Fort George just like us.”

  “What is it with Fort George anyway? Is it really impregnable?” Mercy asked.

  Leo stopped and turned to face Mercy. “The Citadel was the original fort built by the British back in the day. It’s on a hill overlooking the harbour, it was state of the art at the time, star shaped to allow wide arcs of fire. It’s got a defensive ditch too, there’s only one way in and it’s heavily defended. The Colonel’s got heavy machine guns, mortars and even some artillery in there.”

  “So where are the slaves kept?” Mercy asked.

  Leo started walking again. “As far as I know the breeders are in the fort itself, the other slaves live in the compound surrounding the Citadel. After he cleared Halifax of tropes the Colonel built a fence and dug a ditch around the common land surrounding the fort. The slaves live and work outside the Citadel walls, but they’re penned in by a guarded perimeter fence.”

  “Sounds medieval,” Mercy said.

  “Or like a concentration camp in the Second World War, take your pick,” Leo responded.

  “So how are we going to get in?” Mercy asked.

  Leo shook his head, “We can’t, even if we could, we’re out manned and out gunned.”

  Mercy chewed her lip, deep in thought. “There’s always a way—”

  Leo glanced at Mercy the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Of course there is,” he said.

  They trudged on in silence. The other two SUVs had been found and brought to the lodge. They had monitored radio signals from Halifax, repeated requests for updates from Fort George had been received but left unanswered.

  “They’ll be sending others, maybe even a helicopter,” Leo said to the group gathered at the lodge. The weapons had been redistributed amongst those who knew how to handle firearms.

  Tawny spat on the ground. “So we travel at night, take the back roads.”

  “They’ll be coming by Route 107 that’s the shortest and quickest route. We should go south first, then west on route 207, it’ll take us into Dartmouth and to the Macdonald Bridge,” Leo continued.

  Molly pulled a face, “Yeah, well, the new bridge is guarded, so is the old one—”

  “Let’s worry about that when we get there,” Leo said, he looked at the sky. “We should travel at night. If we leave now we’ll get to Upper Lawrencetown in under an hour. We’ll hole up there and wait for darkness before moving in on Cole Harbour.”

  “What’s in Cole Harbour?” Tawny asked.

  Leo turned to her. “If we’re lucky we may be able to make contact with one of the families there. It’s been a while, but last time I was there they’d cleared the tropes and had got some sort of underground network. After the NSA took my parents I went in with Jude to scope out rescue options. We were sheltered by the Philips family, they even took us across the Narrows to get eyes on the Citadel. I knew rescue was hopeless when I saw their setup.”

  “Encouraging words,” Tawny said, frowning.

  “Things change, circumstances change, sometimes you have to risk everything to get what you want,” Leo held Tawny’s eyes.

  Tawny stared back not breaking eye contact, the atmosphere was charged between them. One of the SUV’s engines roared to life, Rose sat in the driving seat, “We’re not getting anywhere jawing, let’s move out.”

  “She’s right,” Mercy said pulling at Tawny’s arm, let’s go sister. Tawny’s eyes flicked to Rose then back to Leo. There was something different in her look, Leo could not work it out.

  They had removed the back seats from the SUVs to maximise room. With some difficulty everyone managed to squeeze into the three vehicles. Leo drove the lead SUV followed by Rose, Mercy took up the rear. They set off in convoy south along West Porters Lake Road and joined Crowell Road without incident. Twice they stopped to push abandoned vehicles out of the way otherwise the road was clear to the junction with Route 207.

  “Why aren’t there any tropes around?” Rose asked Molly who sat in the passenger seat beside her.

  “Because there’s no fresh blood, they like the living, they smell people on the wind so they’re drawn to the city. There’s more trope food there, out here there’s just—” she looked out the window.

  “Trees,” Rose finished for her.

  “Yeah, trees and bears,” Molly pointed to the right, a black bear and two cubs were walking along the side of the road partially obscured by foliage.

  Rose shuddered. “Shit, didn’t even see them. I don’t like bears, we had bear trouble in New York,” her mind went back to the bear attack she and Arabella had survived near Battery Park. Guilt flooded over her; it should’ve been her that died in Battery Park not Arabella. Bella did not deserve to die— still there was time yet. She felt it deep in her bones; her own time would come. The SUV drifted across the road as Rose watched the bears.

  “Hey, keep your eyes on the road Rose,” Molly grabbed the wheel bringing the SUV back to the centre of the road. “Don’t worry I’ll look out for bears, I’ve got bear radar.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” Rose replied.

  They turned west on Route 207 and followed it past signs for Lawrencetown Beach Provincial Park. Wild Atlantic waves pounded the coast on their left, it was late afternoon, they had a few hours left before sunset.

  Mercy took up the rear, her eyes glued to the road and Rose’s SUV ahead. Jude’s death had left a vacuum in Leo’s world, it was tangible, if she could feel it, so would the others in his group. It wasn’t her business, it was Leo’s business. Some leaders shared power others preferred absolute power. Leo needed to share his leadership, that was his style, so far she hadn’t seen anyone in his group who could step into Jude’s shoes. Molly wa
s bright, but too young for the others to follow.

  It is what it is—

  Mercy turned to Tawny in the passenger seat. “You OK Tawny? You seem quiet.”

  Tawny did not respond, her mind was elsewhere, her eyes far out at sea searching for answers. Mercy shrugged, it was possible to be lonely surrounded by people. Tawny was an island, surrounded by rocks, keeping everyone and everything out.

  The road turned inland, Mercy could see mud flats and river tributaries on her left. They were making progress, she looked in the rear view mirror, the kids in the back looked tired and hungry. They needed rest and food, she hoped Leo had a plan.

  Mercy’s thoughts turned to Flynn, she felt guilty, she hadn’t thought of him that day. But he was there, she realised, deep inside, in that safe place that she had protected. She thought back; when had it happened? When had Flynn breached her armour? She remembered the moment; back in Central Park when they had faced down death for the first time together. That’s when she knew.

  Mercy glanced at Tawny. Fear comes in many guises Tawny, it won’t ever go away—

  Rose’s brake lights came on, Mercy slowed and came to a stop. She looked around, a few houses were scattered in the distance. Leo strode down the road and spoke to Rose. Then he came to Mercy’s window.

  Leo pointed at the road ahead. “That’s Upper Lawrencetown, we’ll stay there until it gets dark. Rest up, get something to eat. Follow me in, keep an eye out for tropes, we’re getting closer to the city.” He leant back and banged the SUV’s rear window. “Wake up everyone, eyes and ears open, weapons ready.”

  The kids in the back yawned, stretched and checked their weapons. Mercy undid the strap on her holster and released her seat belt. Tawny did the same. Tawny was sporting one of the captured NSA combat swords, Mercy remembered Laurient back at the Manhattan Cruise Terminal. Had Laurient’s sword been an affectation or had she really known how to use one? Mercy realised there was still much about Tawny’s history she did not know.

  Their convoy moved off and reached the outskirts of Upper Lawrencetown. Mercy followed Rose’s vehicle and turned into Doherty Drive. They crawled past detached family homes set back from the road. Leo’s SUV stopped in front of a large house.

  Leo sat in his SUV watching the house and after a few minutes seemed satisfied. He left his vehicle and instructed six of his kids to guard the SUVs. He spoke to Rose, then came to Mercy’s SUV.

  “We’ll try this one, it’s big enough for us. There was a shop and restaurant back on the main road, we’ll check the house first then go look for some food. You OK with that?”

  Mercy nodded. “Right behind you.”

  “No, you stay here,” Tawny reached a hand over to Mercy. “I’ll check out the house with him. You never know, might even get a chance to use this baby,” she patted the sword.

  Mercy raised her eyebrows. “What? On Leo or tropes?”

  Tawny pulled a face. “Hah, bloody hah.” She climbed out of the SUV and followed Leo towards the house.

  The street was suburban and looked normal except that the gardens were overgrown and all the cars’ tyres were flat. They got out of the SUVs and waited on the sidewalk. Mercy checked her AR-15 and watched as Rose gave Molly instructions on how to use her Glock 17. The guards stood alert by the vehicles, they knew what they were doing. Mercy looked back towards the house, there was no sign of Leo and Tawny. Mercy decided to check on the back yard. She caught Rose’s eye and tilted her head at the house. Rose nodded, understanding.

  Mercy walked down the driveway, listening to the birds in the trees. A raven watched her from a fence post, it tilted its head staring at her as she passed. She reached the side of the house and listened but only heard her own breathing. She took out the Ruger American pistol, the back garden was overgrown and full of honeysuckle. A humming noise caught her attention, she looked up, a wasp’s nest lay under the eaves. A few stray wasps buzzed around her head annoyed at her presence.

  Mercy left the wall and went over to the fence putting distance between her and the wasp’s nest. Her eyes followed the fence into the garden to a shed at the back. She listened to the wasps and the birds, everything seemed normal. The long grass and weeds had been trampled across the back yard to the shed. She raised her pistol and stepped into the weeds, the smell of honeysuckle was overpowering, she detected another smell but could not place it. She continued, one step at a time, towards the shed.

  A noise came from the house, the back door opened, Leo’s voice carried on the air, “All clear here too—”

  Leo was close but a whole world away for Mercy. She focused on the shed, it was more of a garage, its door partially open. The trail in the grass led straight to the door, she paused and waited, listening. Nothing, she left the trampled grass, went to the side window and peered in, it was too dark to see anything, she returned to the front and opened the door with her foot.

  The animal smell wafted out and drowned the honeysuckle in her head. Dog or dogs, unmistakable, she gripped the gun and shouted into the cataract of darkness, “Come out, I know you’re in there. Come on show yourself—”

  A low growl came from within the garage followed by the sound of paws on concrete. Mercy’s finger touched the pistol’s trigger, she had fought feral dogs and dogs infected with the virus in the city. Infected dogs attacked with a reckless fury, this was different.

  “Come on out, I’m waiting—”

  The dog’s growling became deeper, more threatening, the hairs on Mercy’s neck rose, she took a step back. The trope attacked her from behind, grabbing her gun arm and waist. Mercy dropped to the ground and rolled to her right, bringing the trope with her. Its grip was strong, she felt its foetid breath on her skin, she pulled her neck away as it lunged, its yellowed teeth just snapping her hair. Their eyes met, Mercy saw its frenzied hunger, its insane urge to feed. She tried to roll again but failed.

  Mercy was dimly aware of barking behind the trope, she saw movement then felt the impact of something landing on the trope’s back. The trope went rigid, its grip loosened on her gun arm. Mercy twisted the pistol up behind her back, the trope had partially turned to face its attacker opening a gap.

  Mercy broke free from the trope’s grasp, she rolled to the right and fired two 9 mm rounds into the base of its skull. The trope’s head disintegrated into shards of bone and brain tissue, its body slumped to the ground. The noise from the gunshots was deafening, a high pitched yelp came from behind the trope. Mercy brought her gun to bear on the dog. The Doberman’s eyes were clear; it was not infected. The dog crouched with its tail between its legs and lowered its head its whole body trembling. Mercy saw movement in the long grass, Leo appeared, his gun raised.

  “Mercy? Mercy? You OK?” Leo shouted.

  “I’m good, don’t shoot. I think I’ve found a friend—” Mercy replied.

  “What happened?” Leo looked at the dead trope and the Doberman.

  “Found me a lone trope, think it was stalking this dog. Trope caught me off guard and attacked, the dog pulled it off me. Doesn’t look infected either—” Mercy said.

  “Looks thin and mangy, I wouldn’t go near it. Let’s put it out of its misery.” Leo raised his gun.

  “No, Leo. Don’t, let’s just give it a minute,” Mercy commanded.

  Leo hesitated then lowered his gun a fraction. “Your call.”

  Tawny appeared beside Leo and took in the scene. “Are we OK here?”

  “We’ll see,” Leo responded.

  Mercy pushed the trope’s body away and got to her knees lowering her gun. She held out a hand to the Doberman and waited. The dog looked at her and whimpered.

  “Come on boy, it’s OK. It’s OK, it’s gotta be OK, we’re still alive aren’t we?” Mercy whispered.

  The dog looked into Mercy’s eyes and at her outstretched hand. It put a paw forward followed by the other and half shuffled, half crawled towards her. It reached her hand and sniffed it.

  “Good boy, good boy, go on you can do
it—” Mercy crooned.

  The dog made eye contact then licked her hand.

  “That’s it, good boy,” Mercy encouraged. After a few more licks Mercy stroked the dog’s head and body. The dog’s demeanour changed and he stood up, his tail wagging.

  “Well I’ll be damned. Mercy, the dog whisperer. What next?” Tawny said, her voice deadpan.

  “OK so situation under control then,” Leo said. “If this was the city the whole place would be crawling with tropes by now, I hope it’s just the one trope. Let’s get into the house and make it secure, it looks good inside. If there’s no trope activity we’ll take a ride down the road and see if we can get some food.”

  Mercy patted the dog again and followed Leo and Tawny to the house. She stopped half way and looked back at the dog a few steps behind her. “So what were you guarding back there boy?” She looked at the garage, “Hey Leo, hang on a second, I’m just going to check the garage.”

  Before Leo could say anything Mercy was back at the garage door, she pulled it open and reached into her pocket for the cigarette lighter. She lit it and her eyes widened, “Oh, I see boy, I see—”

  An old man’s body lay on a camp bed in the corner. The skin around his eyes had tightened narrowing them to slits, a full beard covered his chin, his hands held a 12 bore shotgun.

  Mercy took a close look. “OK, so long as you’re really dead and not like the skinnies back in Manhattan. She touched the old man’s hands feeling the unyielding bone underneath the skin. She took the shotgun, checked the breech and found it loaded with two cartridges. She heard movement from the door and turned to see Leo’s face in the dim light.

  “Looks as if you found this critter’s owner,” Leo commented.

  Mercy looked at the dog by her side, he was watching her, his tail moving slowly. She reached down and stroked his head, his tail wagged in response. Mercy handed Leo the shotgun, “Someone could use this, hang on, what’s that in the corner?” She went over to a stack of crates and pulled off a dusty tarpaulin. She let out a low whistle. “Looks as if his owner cleared out the store.”