Mercy

by Tara Ellis

  MERCY

  The Flashpoint Series

  Book 6

  By

  Tara Ellis

  Mike Kraus

  © 2020 Muonic Press Inc

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  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

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  Special Thanks

  Special thanks to my awesome beta team, without whom this book wouldn’t be nearly as great.

  Thank you!

  Preface

  Twenty-two days. Less than a month since a cosmic event capable of destroying planets was aimed at the Earth. With only a glancing blow, the gamma-ray burst obliterated billions of lives in an instant. Unleashing a chain of cascading catastrophes, it brought the remaining population to its knees…and the brink of extinction.

  With the ozone layer shredded, Earth’s atmosphere has been transformed, its delicate balance of life-sustaining compounds permanently altered. The surface of the planet reaps the resulting fallout from the radiation, acid rain, changing weather patterns, and unusual animal behaviors. All electrical components were destroyed and communication made nearly impossible in the aftermath. In this new environment, it is imperative to adapt to the mounting obstacles just to survive, let alone flourish.

  Danny. The fiercely independent woman was already on a journey of discovery when she found herself stranded over four hundred miles from her home. After pairing up with a chemistry teacher, Sam Ruiz, and a stray dog named Grace, she was forced to examine sides of herself she would have rather left hidden. Throughout the unbelievable challenges faced along the way, her new friends and a young boy named Ethan emerged as Danny’s lifelines. Against all odds, in the sea of confusion a rancher named Thomas Miller has become her anchor.

  Tom. As a single father and owner of a large cattle ranch, he is the epitome of a good ol’ country boy. Except nothing is ever as it seems, and Tom has his own demons to fight. He may have successfully delivered his son and friends to his hometown of Mercy, Montana, but it soon became apparent that their struggles weren’t over. Finding himself thrust into a leadership role, Tom quickly learns that his sometimes-impulsive decisions have a broader impact now and might put everyone at risk.

  Ethan. Ethan Miller is a lot like his father, and the teen has proven he’s just as resilient. Being in Mercy and finding a new friend in Chloe has helped the healing process begin, so he can try and put the darkest days after the flashpoint behind him. While the constant challenges of everyday life offer a good distraction, there are other threats looming and he has yet to face his greatest hardship.

  Chloe. Though she might have started out her journey as a troubled teen on a trek for redemption, Chloe Benson has been one of the few to keep a level head when so many others fell apart. Incredibly intelligent and intuitive, she’s aligned herself with people who appeared to understand what it would take to survive. Now, together with Ethan and his family, she will fight alongside them to protect Miller Ranch and the place she has come to call home.

  Patty. As a retired nurse and the mayor of Mercy for several years, she did all she could to keep her town from falling apart after the gamma-ray burst. Having stepped down as mayor, she plans to focus on healing instead of leading. Fate might have something else in mind. With the danger from the military, outlaws, and others unseen approaching, her role may not be that easy to define.

  General Montgomery has never questioned his role or his destiny and he still believes it is up to him to save those left alive in the United States. He’s so sure of his tactics that he’ll do anything necessary to stop those who oppose him, including the leaders left in the civilian government.

  Master Sergeant James Campbell, leader of the Marines Special Operations Forces, 1st Force Reconnaissance, was one of the weapons in the general’s arsenal. James might be a loyal soldier, but he’s also a patriot. When his orders required him to turn on the civilian government, he took matters into his own hands. James and his team have marshaled a US senator into hiding, and he’s about to be reunited with his father. While he suspects they’re all a part of a greater scheme, the endgame is more complex than he could have imagined.

  Russell Boyd’s plan is just getting started. He has many places to go and countless lives to end in order to rid the Earth of its infestation. The flashpoint was the greatest thing to have ever happened to him, and only proved that he’d been on the right path all along. A path filled with righteousness and synchronicity. Russell may never be done, but he’ll happily play his role until he’s no longer needed. First, he has work to finish in Mercy.

  All have been led to the small mountain town of Mercy, Montana for different reasons. In this final episode, their lives will collide as they fight for love, justice, power, and their very existence.

  Chapter 1

  ERIC

  Location Unknown

  The darkness was absolute. Like a blanket, it covered Eric, smothering him as if it were something tangible. Clawing and pulling, it threatened to drag him down into the deepest recesses of his mind.

  A light flared, erupting into the space and transforming some of the blackness into dancing shadows. Eric flinched, cowering from the shifting forms and whimpering as he desperately tried to ignite a pile of wood.

  Eric.

  He froze at the whispered word, his fear overriding his need to see and allowing the lighter to go cold in his shaking hand. Blind again, he jerked back to attention and fumbled with the device, his thumb sliding off the striker four times before it caught. His rapid breaths sounded like a sick, gasping dog and he swallowed once and licked his lips, forcing himself to slow his breathing.

  Eric.

  “No, no, no,” he pled, his voice small. His lips stuck together as he mouthed other words that wouldn’t quite form, all the while holding the small flame to first one stick and then another. Finally, one took and he focused on it, kneeling in close and blowing just enough to give the fire life.

  We’re here, Eric.

 
“Go away!” Eric was on his feet and screaming before he could control his movements. One of his feet knocked a log aside, scattering some of the wood. Sparks rose, winking out of existence as they drifted in front of his face. “Just like all the people,” he moaned, while looking around, dazed.

  Enough of the kindling kept burning so that he remained in a limited patch of illumination, but everything beyond the fire’s small perimeter remained hidden. Eric couldn’t remember where he was. He raised his hands and splayed his fingers along his forehead and face, pressing against his skull until it caused pain. When that didn’t work, he slapped himself once, hard.

  They’re all dead, Eric.

  “Shut up!”

  Eric turned in a circle, disoriented. Was he in a cave? No. A basement. He was in the basement of someone’s house. Not his.

  The floor was suddenly beneath him, his face pressing into the cold cement. Memories came rushing back of the light in the sky, the darkness and confusion in the days following. He and Myra had gone to the mountains. To their cabin.

  “M…Myra,” he stuttered, sucking up dirt from the floor and crunching it between his teeth. “Myra!” Pushing himself up onto his forearms, Eric strained to see into the corners of the room. Was Myra there? Is that who was talking to him?

  Shame suddenly welled up in his chest, a familiar feeling he’d wrestled with for over a decade, ever since his diagnosis.

  The clozapine. Eric shut his eyes, trying desperately to hold on to the clear thought. To follow it back to something more coherent like a trail of breadcrumbs. He’d run out of his medication over a week before. He’d been okay for a couple of days, and then it started. The voices. The paranoia. Hallucinations and an inability to think or speak comprehensibly. Normally, he was a properly functioning, intelligent man of thirty-six. He’d maintained a steady job and relationship for years, against the odds, thanks to the medication. Without it, the schizophrenia crawled back into his brain and slowly took over. It…

  It’s coming for you, Eric.

  He was back on his feet. Something was in his right hand. Something cold, hard, and heavy. The room was dark again.

  The Bic was already in his other hand and Eric successfully lit it the first time. He was still in the basement, but the fire had gone out. How long had it been since his last lucid moment? His thumb began to burn as he dropped to his knees and he ignored the pain as he held the flame against what was left of the kindling. It must have been dry because it caught immediately, and he watched as the orange tendrils curled around the sticks, caressing it while devouring it, much like…

  You have to stop them, Eric.

  Movement.

  Eric leapt to his feet and brought the object in his right hand up, hefting the rifle into place as he swiveled to face whatever was down in the basement with him. He could smell it now; a wet, dank, rotten odor. It reminded him of the time he dug up their pet cat several days after its death, because he wouldn’t believe it was dead. He was twelve, and had recently watched Pet Sematary, which filled his head with wild notions that had been harder for him to discern from reality than other kids.

  There was nothing there. No oily form slinking in the corners, waiting to lure him close enough to drag him down to hell. Perhaps he was already there.

  “No…no. I’m alive. I’m here. I don’t know where here is, but I’m somewhere. I’m nowhere. I…” Eric’s muttered words trailed off as a pressure exploded in his head, causing him to gasp. He staggered back several steps before whirling around, pointing the weapon at any unforeseen demons at his back.

  They’re here.

  Sounds from above. Eric shook his head, trying to rid himself of the pain left behind like a lingering shadow. That was how he’d come to describe the random attacks that were often the prelude to a bad…episode.

  Thump…thump…scrape.

  There was someone there. In the house with him. They were coming to get him.

  Eric began to sob, his thoughts spiraling towards the black pit he knew he wouldn’t come back from. Not without help. Not without the medicine. Only, there wasn’t any more medicine. There wasn’t any—

  Don’t let them take you, Eric. ERIC…ERIC…ERIC…

  “N—no, no one. I—I—can’t…won’t take me.” Eric shuffled forward until his feet hit the base of the stairs. His eyes reflected the flickering firelight as he squatted, wide-eyed, with the rifle pointed in front of him. Rocking slightly, someone close by might have mistaken the low sounds he made as humming, instead of the incoherent ramblings of a madman.

  “Eric?” Myra called timidly. “Are you down there?”

  A small sliver of natural light crept down the stairs as the old, wooden door creaked open a few inches.

  Eric froze. Was that Myra? No, she was gone. They were all gone. He was already dead and this—

  They’ve come to take you.

  A red mist began to engulf the light on the stairs. It pulsed like it had a heartbeat, a sulfuric smell spilling ahead of it as it grew larger…closer.

  “I won’t go!” Eric wailed.

  The sun was just beginning to rise over the small glen, where the rustic cabin sat amid a cluster of pine trees. A stream meandered through the clearing, alive with fish and life-sustaining water. It would have been an ideal spot to ride out the end of the world. To start over.

  A shot cracked through the stillness, causing birds to take flight. A minute later, a second round rang out, and then the valley fell into a deep, eternal silence.

  Chapter 2

  DANNY

  Miller Ranch, Mercy, Montana

  Mist rose from the fields, chasing away the last of the night as a howling wind turned it into writhing tendrils of ghostly apparitions. The air was heavy with pent-up energy on the verge of being released, and birds took flight in advance of it.

  Danny stared up at the angry, churning clouds and cursed under her breath. It was horrible timing. Her feet were already damp from the dense morning dew that clung to the overgrown grass surrounding the farmhouse, and her sweatshirt wasn’t enough to keep out the chill. Her hair smelled like woodsmoke from the morning fire and her hands were already dirty.

  While they’d managed to get a decent amount of the field cut the day before, there was still at least two days of work left to do. Danny could only guess how the hay would be affected by being bundled and stacked wet. Sandy was nearly frantic about it, waking everyone before dawn to get started on their tasks. Danny was dismayed to see that it looked like the rain could let loose at any minute.

  She was quickly coming to understand how much juggling of priorities were involved with running the farm, especially under the current circumstances. Sandy had taken Sam with her at daybreak to go check on how the calving was going, while Ethan went to ride the line of the upper field in advance of the storm. He was concerned that he might have missed something since he hadn’t checked it for a couple of days. Having hay wouldn’t do them any good if the cows weren’t alive to eat it. Danny was impressed with the teen’s work ethic and it was obvious that he took his dad’s request to watch over things very seriously.

  She had also taken Tom’s last-minute request to heart, and had already gone through the room above the barn. Danny was initially confused when she saw the radio, but after sifting through the papers left on the desk, it was fairly apparent what it was all about. That didn’t explain whose radio it was or why Tom asked her to look into it, but the logical assumption was that it belonged to Bishop. That would also explain why he wanted her to look through his personal belongings.

  “Come on, Grace,” she called absently. The retriever was uncharacteristically antsy, pacing back and forth and occasionally whining. Danny figured she picked up on everyone’s nerves as they waited for word about the ambush, in addition to the looming storm.

  She unclipped the radio from her belt and tried to reach someone for the third time that morning.

  “Miller Ranch to Mercy Base. Over.”

  Danny
frowned at the radio as nothing but static was returned. She knew it would probably be several more hours before Tom and the others were close enough to reach anyone. Even with the repeater boosting the signal, they had to be within a certain number of miles from the guard at the south end of town. They would then relay it on. However, the ranch could normally communicate with anyone in Mercy, and sometimes even the guard station, thanks to the enhancement of the signal. When they were greeted with static that morning, Sam suggested that the storm was likely running interference, which made sense, but it still ratcheted Danny’s anxiety up another notch.

  A gust of wind blew her hair forward and across her face as she walked toward the barn, and Danny pushed it back impatiently. She was frustrated as well as irritated about not knowing what was happening to Tom, or with the storm and isolation. And because it felt like she was violating Sandy’s trust by sneaking around her farm and going through her friend’s things.

  Danny almost let Sam in on her secret mission, wanting to seek out his advice, and even went out to the bunkhouse the night before after discovering the radio. However, as soon as she stepped into the room, he’d immediately begun to go on about his indoor farming plans. He was so excited that Danny couldn’t bring herself to drag him down into yet another problem. She was determined to handle it on her own.

  Glancing back over her shoulder, Danny confirmed that Chloe and Crissy weren’t behind her. They were supposed to be headed for the hayfield to start cutting. They would have a nice stack ready for her by the time she got a couple of horses saddled and prepared to haul the bales to the barn. The six of them had worked out a good system during the long hours of work the previous day. Although sore, Danny was actually looking forward to the hard labor. It helped clear her head and gave her a stronger sense of purpose, both things she was actively trying to improve on.