Longhorn cattle. Jesus, I didn’t think there’d be any of them left alive. Looks like they’re doing OK. They’re roaming free—
The sound of horses followed by the cocking of a lever-action rifle made her drop to the ground.
“Throw down your weapons, all of you. Anyone who fucks with me gets dead… fast—” a man’s voice.
Goddammit—
Mercy dropped her pistol and raised her hands. The others hesitated then followed her lead.
Chapter 24
LGM-25C
“Turn around, real slow. Don’t do anything stupid, I’ve got a real itchy trigger finger—” the man drawled.
Mercy turned to face a man on a horse. He was flanked by two others; another man and a woman. Three more men emerged from the undergrowth, all armed.
“Who are you people? What do you want?” the man asked.
Barnes glanced at Mercy.
Mercy straightened her shoulders, “My name’s Mercy Dawes. I’m from New York City. These others are with me… that’s Barnes with the beard, then you’ve got Tawny here and that’s Flynn. We’re looking for an Annalise Young, I knew her father, Billy-Ray… he sent me here to find her.”
Mercy let her words sink in.
A young woman carrying a crossbow stepped out from behind a tree. “I’m Annalise Young. I’ve never seen you before, how do you know my father?”
Mercy turned towards the woman, “I’m not going to sugar-coat it. I met your father in Norfolk, he was working for a drug dealer called Deadstick. Your father was an explosives expert. Deadstick found him useful. Long story short… your father stowed away on a truck that me and my friends used to get across to Hampton. The NSA chased us. Your father helped us escape and we used some safe houses and a lighthouse he knew about from his drug running days. He helped us get to Annapolis… but he didn’t make it. He took an NSA bullet in the leg near Buckroe Beach, outside of Hampton. We patched him up, he was desperate to reach you. He gave me a letter to give to you, but I lost it… sorry. An NSA gunboat killed him somewhere off Oyster Harbor, south of Annapolis. There were three NSA boats… our helmsman steered the RIB we were using into one of their gunboats. Your father was on the RIB, he didn’t make it—”
Mercy stopped. She watched Annalise’s face. Annalise showed no emotion.
“Some story,” the man on the horse remarked.
“Yeah, some story,” one of the women echoed.
Annalise took a step back and looked away. She hesitated then started talking, “Yes, my father was an explosives expert. He completed two tours in Iraq, when I was a kid. He suffered from PTSD. Did he tell you that? Turns out there’s not much work for an explosives expert in peacetime… for a veteran with PTSD. Bridge demolition was his specialty. We needed money for my mother’s cancer treatment, he went east and found work. He sent cheques through the mail. He’d come home every month for a few days. Mom had her treatment… dad provided for us, said he’d found work at Norfolk Naval Station, on the docks. I believed him, mom believed him, all that mattered was her treatment. The money kept coming, she had her treatment, twelve months of it… but the cancer got her in the end. I knew deep down that dad wasn’t working on the docks. You don’t get that sort of money working for the government—”
Annalise broke off.
“I’m sorry Annalise, there’s more… but maybe we should talk alone?” Mercy shrugged her shoulders.
Annalise turned to the man on the horse, “It’s OK, their story rings true. I’ll vouch for them.”
The man on the horse nodded, “OK Annalise… it’s your call.” He turned to Mercy, “I’m Brody, this here is Jade,” he indicated the woman on his left, “my daughter. You and your people are welcome to stay at our camp for a few days. You’ll have to hand over your weapons though, that’s non-negotiable. You’ll get them back when you leave—”
Shit, I guess that makes sense. Well, at least we passed the interview without a shot being fired—
Mercy caught Barnes’s eye then nodded at the horseman. “Agreed. We could use some shelter and also some… local knowledge. You see I have a friend, Rose. She’s been captured by some NSA-controlled tropes… weaponized tropes. The NSA have been conducting biotech experiments on selected tropes in DC. They call them alphas, they’re evolved, much more intelligent tropes. Vicious bastards, they’re GPS tagged and seem to be remotely controlled by the NSA somehow, maybe by some sort of cloud AI—”
Mercy looked at the riders’ blank expressions.
Too much information—
She turned to Annalise, “We need to talk—”
They arrived at the campground forty minutes later and were brought to a lodge complete with wood burning stove, table and chairs. Fresh coffee was made and passed around.
Annalise sat beside the stove and stared at Mercy, “So talk.”
Mercy sipped her coffee, her mind agitated, “OK. I can see how maybe you don’t know about alphas and what was going on in DC.” Mercy looked at the people gathered in the room. “Look Annalise… what I have to say, you might want to process it first. Do all these other people have to be in here?”
Annalise looked at Brody.
Brody stood up, “OK, everybody out. Give us some space, we’ll be done in a while.”
The room emptied leaving Mercy, Barnes, Tawny, Flynn, Annalise, Brody and Jade.
“OK, let me have it… all of it,” Annalise said.
Mercy shifted in her seat, “Your father wanted me to tell you he loved you and he was trying to get back here. He gave me your address in Mission Home. We found the co-ordinates you left in your mail box—”
Brody frowned but remained silent.
“Your father
