Mercy

by Tara Ellis

  Ethan snapped his fingers, making her jump. “I got it! Pretty much all of the SG1 episodes.”

  “You’re seriously going to try and bring Stargate into this?” Chloe was still fighting against a wave of claustrophobia, but the conversation was distracting her enough so that it wasn’t consuming her. “First of all, they were in a man-made bunker inside a mountain.”

  “Cheyenne Mountain,” Ethan added.

  Chloe rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Duh. Were you not listening to James last night? Even without his true horror stories, literally every Stargate episode involved some worldwide threat.”

  Ethan stopped at the threshold to the cave, staring at her. She smiled mockingly at him, proud she had finally stumped him with something. Stepping up next to him, she was startled by how bright it was in the huge cavern, due to several large beams of natural light cutting wide swaths through the darkness.

  Chloe stepped a few feet inside the cave before taking it all in, moving into the nearest shaft of light and welcoming the false sense of warmth and security it offered. As she looked up and closed her eyes, there was a distinct clicking sound from somewhere close by that echoed through the hollow. Gasping at the realization they weren’t alone; Chloe opened her eyes at the same time that Ethan grabbed and pulled her protectively against him.

  They spun together to face where the sound had come from, and Chloe was utterly confused when she saw Father Russell standing in the shadows. Old tools were scattered in the dirt at his feet, and stacks of wooden crates loomed behind him. Clusters of odd wires fanned out around the priest, trailing across the ground to disappear into the darkness. It took a moment for Chloe to realize he was holding a gun and although it didn’t make any sense, it was most definitely pointed at them.

  “Well, now. This is unfortunate.” His voice was so pleasant that it only added to the bizarre scene, making Chloe feel like they’d fallen down the rabbit hole.

  Swallowing hard, she reached for Ethan’s hand. “Why do I always have to be right?”

  Chapter 25

  ETHAN

  Henry’s Hollow, Mercy, Montana

  Ethan gripped Chloe’s hand and tried to pull her back through the opening, but Russell anticipated the move and thrust the gun at them threateningly.

  Moving with an uncanny grace, he narrowed the distance between them. “Uh-uh,” Russell uttered, shaking his head. “Don’t. You’re both going to die here today, though I’d rather not shoot you.” He gestured with his free hand to the wooden boxes behind him. “Ricocheting bullets could have a rather spectacular outcome.”

  “What are you doing?” Chloe sputtered, her normally cool exterior gone.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” When neither Ethan or Chloe answered him, Russell sighed audibly and shook his head. “I’m rather disappointed, Ethan. I suspected you were one of the…worthy. I recognized something in you,” he continued, using the gun for emphasis as he jabbed it at Ethan. “You and I, we aren’t so different.”

  A deep-seated fear began to slowly slither up from Ethan’s gut to settle in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The shadowy chamber, with the shafts of light fading and brightening as the clouds swiftly passed overhead outside, could have been the location of any number of Ethan’s recent nightmares. In them, instead of Decker or Billy doing the killing, it was him. When he woke drenched in sweat in the middle of the night, it was because of his revulsion at the pleasure he felt committing the heinous acts. Ethan’s terror was that he wasn’t any better than the killers who had kidnapped him and he’d never be able to outrun the truth. For a heartbeat, it felt like the priest was looking into his soul and calling him out. Only, that wasn’t possible and Ethan knew he was projecting his own fears into the situation to try and make sense of it. The man was crazy.

  Russell grinned then, a morbid expression when combined with the weapon and maniacal energy in his eyes. “You get to be a part of something exceptional.”

  “You’re not a priest!” Chloe spat, her anger beginning to override her horror. “And I’m not sure what kind of twisted complex you have, but you and Ethan are nothing alike.”

  “I’m certain a long discussion with you on abnormal psychology would be thrilling, Chloe, but I’m afraid I’ve got a schedule to keep.” Russell continued to speak like he hadn’t just threatened their lives and was holding a gun on them. “So I’m going to need you to come over here and sit down next to this cart.”

  When Chloe balked and took another step back, Russell reacted with lightning speed, leaping forward and striking Ethan against the temple. Pain exploded through his head and he staggered sideways, bumping into Chloe and knocking them both to the ground.

  “Umph,” Ethan grunted as the second impact caused another fresh burst of pain in his forehead.

  Chloe scrambled out from under him and began to pull at his shoulders, trying to drag him away from Russell. “Come on!” she whimpered, looking back-and-forth between him and Russell. Her eyes were wide with a stark terror Ethan had seen before. He looked away and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He had to focus.

  “Here.” Something hit his legs as Russell spoke, making Ethan flinch as he turned back to see a length of rope in his lap. “Tie him up or I put a bullet in his head.”

  There was something about the rope that wasn’t right. It was too thin and looked more like a cord. Ethan’s thoughts sharpened with the realization that it wasn’t a rope. He’d seen the material before, two summers ago, when they did some blasting for an access road on the back property at the farm. His dad made a fuss about it and almost didn’t let him watch. Ethan stared at the mass of cords on the ground and his breaths quickened. “Russell, what are you doing in here?”

  Chloe stopped her hopeless battle to drag him and crouched down, looking like a caged animal. When Russell leveled the gun at Ethan’s head, she picked up the length of cord with a strangled sob.

  “I’m only doing what I must,” Russell said without emotion. “Certainly, no one can deny the Earth is trying to purge itself. I’m simply playing my part.”

  “You aren’t God!” Chloe looked up at him as she spoke and grimaced when the depth of his lunacy became apparent to them both. “How many people have you already killed?”

  Shrugging, Russell kicked at Chloe’s hand. “Start tying. And I have no idea at this point, though it doesn’t matter. Live or die, it’s the course of nature. Let’s not confuse that with the will of a god created by man’s inability to find their own answers.”

  Ethan’s head hurt, but he didn’t think that was the reason he was having a hard time following the man’s logic. At least he was talking, which was better than killing them or blowing them up. He needed to formulate a plan, and he began eyeing the rusty tools laying nearby.

  Just as Ethan spotted a potentially sharp ax-head, Chloe grasped his wrist. Propped up on one elbow, he rolled toward her, expecting her to follow the order to tie his hands together. Instead, she gave him a signal, mouthing a silent “now” before launching herself backwards into Russell while wrestling for the gun.

  The distraction was all he needed. Lunging for the rusty blade, Ethan rolled to his feet. Chloe was small but wiry, and she’d gotten a good grip on the man’s right arm. As Russell grabbed her by the hair with his other hand and began to haul her back, Ethan swung as hard as he could at Russell’s exposed shoulder.

  The blade didn’t bite into the bone, but it was enough to make the gun drop from Russell’s hand. It spun across the floor of the cave as he howled in pain and threw Chloe away from him. Ethan met their attacker’s gaze and knew there was only one way any of them were going to make it out of the cave alive.

  Lowering his shoulder, he slammed into Russell’s chest, trying to tackle him to the ground.

  “Umph,” Russell grunted. He wrapped Ethan up and managed to stay on his feet so that Ethan only succeeded in driving him backward until they both crashed into a boulder painted with graffiti. It wasn�
�t enough to knock the wind from the larger man, and Ethan couldn’t disengage fast enough to evade a flurry of strikes to his stomach and face.

  Trying to backpedal while vainly attempting to bring his arms up to block the blows, Ethan knew he was in trouble. Russell could fight, and even with an injured shoulder, Ethan was no match for him. But it didn’t matter. He just had to hold out long enough for Chloe.

  His lip split and Ethan’s mouth filled with the taste of blood as his heartbeat pounded in his head, drowning out his ragged gasps and grunts of pain. Reversing tactics, Ethan stopped trying to get away and instead dropped low. Hugging Russell’s legs, he pulled him to the ground as he shouted. “Run, Chloe. Run!”

  Russell easily broke free, though there was a brief reprise as they grappled on the ground. Ethan might not be much of a fighter, but he was big, and he knew how to wrestle. Scrambling, he pushed them around in a circle on the ground, using his legs for leverage.

  “Why fight it?” Russell cooed as he managed to reverse their positions and straddled Ethan. “There’s no point in fighting me, boy. I was always going to come for you.”

  Ethan clawed at Russell’s forearm as it slid around his throat, understanding that there was no tapping out of their fight.

  As the edges of his vision began to gray, Ethan continued to flail and frantically tried to look around and see if Chloe had made it out of the room. She was running, only it wasn’t away from them. She was coming at them, and she had the long wooden handle of the ax in her hands.

  “Stop!” Chloe screamed, swinging down as she drew close.

  A thudding noise, a shift of weight, and the pressure against Ethan’s throat eased. His vision still blurred, he gagged several times and then tried to drag himself through the dirt. Away from Russell. He had to get away.

  Another thud from nearby and then a scream. “Chloe,” Ethan groaned, blinking furiously in an effort to see clearly. Hauling himself onto his hands and knees, he reached toward where he could see a flurry of movement. He heard heavy footfalls and knew Chloe was running for the tunnel. She was going to get away.

  Then, he saw Russell and knew his actions were too calculated as he rose to his feet and lifted his arms in her direction.

  Crack!

  A muzzle flash exploded in the shadowy light of Henry’s Hollow, and Ethan watched in horror as Chloe spun around from the impact of a bullet.

  “No!” Ethan yelled hoarsely, unable to force his legs to hold his weight. Falling back onto his stomach in the dirt, he saw Chloe’s red scarf flutter to the ground next to where she lay.

  Chapter 26

  RUSSELL

  Henry’s Hollow, Mercy, Montana

  Russell watched with interest and something he suspected might be close to regret, as the boy’s life drained from his eyes. Even though he knew he was defeated, Ethan tried to fight him, his body thrashing under Russell as he applied just enough pressure to his throat to make it last longer than necessary.

  He could have shot him, of course, but he’d come to a firm decision that it was an option to be saved as a last resort from then on. It was such a…sterile way of going about something that was so very, very personal.

  “What are you thinking right now?” Russell whispered close to Ethan’s ear. “Regret? Sadness? Possibly wishing you could cry out for your dear father?” That prompted a fresh burst of resistance, and Russell snickered as the boy flailed weakly and managed to strike him against the side of the head. “Uh-uh,” he tsked, pressing harder and adding some extra weight onto Ethan’s chest by lowering himself against him. “I’m afraid your future is already decided.”

  A flash of pure hatred spread across the boy’s face. His nostrils flared and he wheezed as his throat was slowly crushed. Russell was struck again by the similarity between Ethan and his younger brother. The expression of understanding as Daniel had flown down the stairs—

  Shaking his head, Russell realized he was sitting up, allowing Ethan to breathe again. Irritated with his lapse in concentration, he moved swiftly and hauled the teen to his feet, putting him in a more traditional headlock. He was allowing himself to become distracted again when he had bigger, more important things to do.

  Ethan continued to put up an impressive fight and Russell grunted with the effort it took to keep his arm in place. Because of the commotion, he didn’t hear the other noise right away. By the time he looked up, Russell immediately noticed two things: the girl’s body was gone, and there was a large dog running at them.

  The menacing growl and bared teeth were enough to rattle him more than any other potential threat. Russell dropped Ethan automatically as he went for the gun he’d shoved into his waistband. His breath coming in rapid bursts, Russell stumbled backwards and frantically aimed as the beast bore down on him.

  A shot echoed through the cave.

  The dog twisted sideways and skid to a stop, cowering in reaction to the sound. Disoriented, she whimpered and altered her course to where Ethan was sitting. Russell frowned at the gun falling from his numb hand as he convulsed, realizing he hadn’t fired it. Beyond the boy and dog, Chloe stood in the opening of the cave. A rifle was clasped in her hands, ready to fire again.

  “Ugh,” Russell mumbled, stepping sideways. His limbs suddenly went weak and he looked down in confusion at a spreading stain on his shirt. Dropping to his knees, he chuckled, blood frothing on his lips. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  He fell over onto his back and lay staring up at the light seeping in through the natural chimneys. There was a strobing effect undulating through it; lightning from the approaching storm. Or maybe it had already arrived, raging around the cave while their own tempest played out inside.

  Russell got lost in the movement of lights and shadows and didn’t know how much time had passed before Ethan came to stand over him. Chloe was close behind, holding the weapon as if he were still a threat. Her tan shirt was marred with a patch of dark wetness, but she appeared alert and focused. The dog growled somewhere beyond his vision and Russell could hear her pacing, clearly agitated. Ethan turned and said something inaudible to Chloe before kneeling down next to his side with a look of disgust on his face.

  “Who are you?” Ethan asked with genuine curiosity. His eyes narrowed and he wiped at the blood running from his nose before gingerly touching his reddened neck. “Why are you in Mercy?”

  “I am no one,” Russell gasped. The effort to talk made him cough and warm blood splattered onto the ground by his mouth. “I am everyone. I’m the storm that’s come to wash you all away, and you can never stop me. You can’t stop something that is already in motion.”

  “He’s insane,” Chloe said, her voice sounding far away.

  The face above him blurred and Russell strained to focus. “Daniel?” No. No, it was Ethan. And he was dying.

  Russell wasn’t surprised by his own death. He should have known it would be the boy who would be there to deliver him to it. It all made sense then; his unusual fascination and draw to Ethan. The real reason he’d been led to Mercy. At last, he had found someone who was worthy of living. Russell struggled to reach a hand toward him but his body would no longer respond.

  “You failed,” Ethan hissed. “You won’t hurt anyone else, you sick bastard.”

  Russell gurgled in response and when he tried again, succeeded in grasping Ethan’s hand. Pulling weakly at the boy, the edges of his vision faded, transporting him back to his attic. Russell was lying on his small, lumpy bed, breathing in the stagnant air and staring up at the rough, exposed wooden beams. He hadn’t yet taken a life and was ignorant of his greater purpose, though he’d always known there was something different about him. Something special.

  Faintly humming the tune of “Edelweiss”, his lips damp with blood, Russell left the world smiling.

  Chapter 27

  GENERAL MONTGOMERY

  South Gate, Mercy, Montana

  As General Montgomery stood staring down the barrel of Sergeant Campbell’s weapon, he knew
he’d made the critical error of underestimating the man.

  The forced self-reflection made him briefly consider the possibility that it was his own vanity that prevented him from predicting the sergeant’s treason. Montgomery knew, tactically, that he was right. He had a clear vision of what had to be done in order to preserve the greatest number of lives. His orders should have been followed without question, except that in the current state of things, he was unable to maintain the required control. It allowed for insurrection and uprisings more commonly found in third-world countries.

  Mercy was an anomaly. One he planned to capitalize on, especially since it appeared to be in close proximity to the seed vault. Finding Colonel Campbell there with his son and the senator wasn’t a complete shock, but was still unexpected and only helped to confirm his suspicions.

  The leader of the 1st Force Recon knew Montgomery couldn’t afford to let Colonel Campbell get killed. The general didn’t like to play games, especially not with his own soldiers. It was time to end the farce and simply acquire what he wanted in another, less direct way on his own terms.

  “We all want the same thing,” Tom said, holding his hands out in a placating gesture.

  “No,” Montgomery retorted, his words sharp. “I don’t think we do.” Turning away from the farmer, he raised a hand to call off his dogs and discovered that while they’d been talking, another group of riders had come up behind them. They were led by a gray-haired man dressed in leather and a worn cowboy hat.

  “Jesper Duke,” Corporal Dillinger muttered when he spotted him.

  “I promised you, Dillinger, that our paths would cross again. You and I have some unfinished business.” The old rancher tipped his hat in Tom’s direction. “I heard you folks might need a hand.”