My clothes are steaming. It’s my body heat. Christ, the guard will see the steam. Shit, can he see the steam—?
Mercy’s shoulders tensed. She prepared to drop to the ground. She heard the scuff of a boot above. She froze.
Wait. Maybe he won’t—
Nothing.
Another scuff a few feet away. The strike of a match then a cloud of cigarette smoke appeared over the parapet.
He’s within reach, on his way back around the circuit. Odds on he’s facing away from me. Go—
Mercy stepped up onto the protruding corrugated iron section. She pulled herself up and peered over the top of the palisade. A guard in a sheepskin coat was facing her, four feet away. Their eyes met and the cigarette dropped from his mouth.
Mercy’s gun hand flashed over the parapet, her index finger squeezed the trigger, executing a double tap. The gun spat, sending two rounds into the man’s head. A cone of blood and bone flew out from the back of his skull. He dropped to the walkway then toppled to the ground below. The two dogs started barking and howling. Mercy shrunk back, below the palisade.
Goddammit—
She listened and waited. The dogs continued to howl, straining at their chains. A few seconds later a man’s voice yelled, “Shut the fuck up or I’ll come over there and whip your asses, you mangy mongrels—”
The dogs’ barking was replaced with whining and whimpering, then silence. The door slammed again. Mercy froze, waiting. She counted and stopped at twenty.
Nothing. A reprieve? No choice, I need to go in now before they discover the body—
Mercy pulled herself up and peered over the wall. The compound was shrouded in shadows. Soft candlelight spilled out from the far building’s front windows. Barnes and Dimitri’s suspended forms shivered in the cold night air.
Do it—
Chapter 35
Stealth
Mercy hauled herself up and over the palisade. She landed on the walkway with a soft bump. She froze and listened. The wind rustled the trees outside the compound, her heart thumped in her chest.
So far so good. First, silence those dogs. The breeze is in my face, so I must be downwind of them, here’s hoping—
Mercy crawled along the walkway then dropped down to the ground. She listened to the sounds of the night and checked her silenced Glock 17. Wood smoke blew across the compound from the far building.
Warmth for the militia but none for the slaves. Figures—
Mercy moved closer to the open sided woodshed and crouched beside a hitching rail. The two dogs were chained to a post inside the woodshed. They were lying on the ground together, their flanks rising and falling with each breath.
Your job is to kill me, my job is to kill you. I’m sorry about this guys—
Mercy took aim with her silenced pistol and held her breath. She squeezed the trigger twice. One of the dogs let out a high pitched yelp then there was silence. Mercy released her breath and waited. The dogs did not move.
Good—
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
That’s the first step done. I’m still here… with over ten of those militia bastards—
Mercy moved towards Barnes and Dimitri in the woodshed. They remained still, their eyes swollen and shut.
OK, let’s get you down—
She went up to Barnes and whispered in his ear, “Barnes, it’s Mercy here. I’m going to lower you to the ground, use your arms to protect your head if you can.”
Barnes grunted without opening his eyes, his face was covered in dried blood. Mercy repeated her message to Dimitri, he opened his mouth trying but failing to speak.
Water, they’ll want water. It’ll have to wait, I’ve got to get them down first—
Mercy found the pulley system suspending the two men. She untied the rope from its cleat hook and started to lower them to the ground. They jerked as they descended, their combined weight too much for her, even with the pulley. They fell to the floor in a heap, their groans rising in the night air.
Fuck—
Mercy ran over to the two crumpled figures. She checked their breathing and cut the rope from their legs.
“Christ, I’m sorry guys, the rope slipped through my hands,” Mercy whispered, her voice desperate. She looked around and spotted a bucket beside the two dead dogs, “Hold on—”
The bucket was half full of water.
Water for the dogs but not for the prisoners—
Mercy brought the bucket over to Barnes and Dimitri then scooped up water in her hands. She encouraged them to drink. They remained silent, their breathing laboured. They were shivering and had difficulty moving their arms and legs. Mercy checked them over, ignoring the bruising, instead looking for deep lacerations and limb deformities.
No obvious broken bones, but there could be fractured ribs and internal injuries. Christ, they’re not gonna be able to move anywhere in a hurry. A hobble is the best they could manage. Dammit, it’s just me here, and they can’t move much, and I’ve not got the keys to the front gate. This is truly fucked up—
“Barnes, keep drinking. Here… I’ll leave you my rifle—” Mercy paused. “One second, the guard I shot… he had a shotgun… wait—”
Mercy crouched low and went over to the compound wall. She found the dead guard then searched nearby and found his Browning Citori 725 shotgun a few feet away. She found a pistol and ankle knife on his body. She brought the weapons back to Barnes and Dimitri.
Dimitri was drinking from the bucket, his lips were cracked and his tongue swollen.
Jesus—
“Dimitri, look at me,” Mercy said.
Dimitri glanced up, his eyes sunken and dull.
“Do you know how to use a shotgun?” Mercy asked, holding up the Browning.
Dimitri shook his head but pointed to the handgun and nodded.
“The pistol?” Mercy said. “OK, yes, good, you take the pistol and here, these magazines.” She
