Mercy (The Last Army Book 1) (16 page)

“Please don’t let me die, man. Make it stop… I’m cold… Jesus, please help me…”

“Calm down, Tommy. You’re going to be okay—just calm down. It’s just your leg, okay? We’ll stop the bleeding, and we’re taking you home, okay? You’re going to be fine, Tommy, I promise. Just calm down,” Mark said, pressing his blood-soaked shirt against the wound.

Tommy’s face suddenly twitched and immediately relaxed—his painful sobbing cut short.

Mark removed his belt in one violent tug. His holstered forty-five fell to the ground with a sharp clack. Danny pressed the blood-drenched shirt against the wound while Mark secured it with his belt.

“Get all that crap off and bring that here!” Mark's teary eyes went from me to my wheelbarrow. “We’ve got to get him back to town!” My feet remained glued to the floor even as I automatically nodded in short, timid jerks.

Tommy’s eyes lost focus, and his hand slipped off Mark’s shoulder. It landed on the blood puddle with a muted splash.

“Tommy… Tommy, wake up. Come on, you bastard, speak to me! Come on!” Mark screamed as he shook Tommy’s limp body. Vincent slowly lowered the wounded leg, his gaze fixed on Tommy’s peaceful face. Danny pressed two shaking, bloodied fingers against Tommy’s neck. We all stared at him in perfect silence.

A few seconds later, Danny raised his tearful gaze to me.

“You… you killed him. You killed my brother.”

“I, I, I… I didn’t… he was going to… oh God. I just…”

I’d killed Tommy.

The boys stared at me in silence, their bloodied hands still on Tommy’s livid corpse, their clothes all covered in bright-red splatters. The sadness in their tearful eyes turned into reproach—into anger—as their brows hardened. They might have bullied and teased him, but clearly he was still their friend… and Danny’s brother. Mark rose to his feet.

I trained my gun on him, taking a single step back.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted, crouching back down and raising his palms toward me. “Calm down. We know it wasn’t your fault.”

“Not her fault? She fucking shot him!” Danny screamed, his voice phlegmy.

Vincent bit his lip, looking at Tommy’s vacant face. His hand inched down to his rifle.

“Stop! Please, just… just… stay still! Oh God…” I jerked my gun from one guy to the next, making sure none of them reached for their guns. The soles of my boots ground against the concrete as I backed away. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t… he was going to…” I felt like each word got stuck in my throat, suffocating me. I swallowed the knot building up in my throat and blinked away the tears clouding my sight.

Mark slowly kicked his bloodied handgun away and grabbed his buddies’ hands.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Rebecca. Okay? Just put down your gun, and we’ll talk this through, okay?” Mark tried to smile, but his jaw trembled slightly. “No one’s going to hurt you. I promise.”

Mark’s voice wavered with desperation, just as it had when he'd promised Tommy everything would be okay. Now, Tommy’s blood trickled down his bare chest.

“You… you first,” I said, staring at Danny’s shotgun. My pistol went from Vincent to Mark to Danny and back again. I kept retreating, one inch at a time.

“Yeah, okay… but don’t shoot,” Mark said and whispered to his buddies. Vincent placed his rifle on the ground and shoved it away. Danny shook his head, teeth gritted. Only a few feet stood between us—I could see his nostrils flaring up with every breath—and he had a shotgun hanging from his shoulder. At that range, he wouldn’t even have to aim.

I peeled my left hand off my gun and lowered it against my thigh, keeping the iron sights lined up at Danny. Mark grasped the leather sling attached to Danny’s shotgun and spoke right into his ear. A few endless seconds passed, and Mark finally slid the shotgun off Danny’s shoulder, onto the bloodied ground, and kicked it away. Danny kept his eyes fixed on me, scowling. Mark took a deep breath.

“Okay,” Danny said. “Now you—”

I ran. I just turned back and ran away as fast as I could. I had no idea where I was going; I just wanted to get away from them, away from Tommy’s lifeless body, away from everything.

“Rebecca!” Mark shouted, but I didn’t look back. I ducked low as I ran, zigzagging between the cars left on the road, my hand still clutching the gun. My heart pounded against my chest, anticipating a barrage of gunfire to fall upon me.

I turned a corner, but no one had fired at me yet. Wrecked houses went by in a blur, the wind stinging my sore, teary eyes. The cold, leaden sensation in my legs melted away with every block I left behind, muscles burning from the strain of my breathless flight. Mark’s screams rang out around me, but his words were barely a distorted whisper carried by the wind. I kept on running eastward, my back to the sun.

Soon, I cleared the town and ran into a forested area. My blouse stuck to my body, drenched in sweat. Every unsteady stride I took shot painful stings through my body, but I only holstered the gun and ran even faster. Leaves rustled around me, birds and squirrels fleeing from my frantic wheezing. My stomach hurt as if nails had been driven through it. Fuzzy black dots flashed before my eyes. My head felt light as I ran under the thickening woodland canopy. Finally, I collapsed in the shade, scraping my hands on the rough forest ground.

I lay there for several minutes, panting, my cheek pressed against the cool earth, arms and legs spread apart. Once my head stopped spinning, I crawled over to a tree and sat against its rough trunk. I brought up my legs close to my trembling body and wept, fighting the urge to throw up. I felt like tossing my stupid gun as far away as I could, but even though I hated myself for it, I just couldn’t part with it.

I sobbed for what felt like hours, uncertain of what I would do next. I couldn’t just stroll back to town. I‘d killed Tommy… shot him dead… murdered him. Obviously, I hadn't wanted to; I'd just defended myself. But he was dead all the same. I thought of Karla, what she’d think once she heard of what I’d done, and what they’d do to her.

I held onto my silver cross and brought it to my trembling lips. All I could do was pray.

Jesus, please help me. I’m so sorry…

I struggled to relax, taking long deep breaths as I struggled to clear my mind, but as soon I’d gotten control of myself, a new wave of sobbing and whimpering would come over me. I wept for a few more minutes with my eyes shut until my heartbeat steadied itself.

The sound of heavy thumping reached my ears—louder, closer. A twig snapped just a few feet away. I looked up, startled to find a monstrous shadow looming over me. My hand flew to the gun holstered at my side, but as I touched the rough plastic grip, the scene of Tommy’s gruesome death flashed in my mind—red blood and pale skin. My hand froze, curled into a useless claw.

I pressed my back against the tree, squeezing my eyes shut and screaming as I prepared for the worst.

“Rebecca?”

My sore eyes slowly adjusted to the sunrays shining behind the monstrous shadow. A man’s dark-brown eyes stared back at me, the hint of a smile on his lips. I sighed with relief, but my heart immediately raced again. His strong, lightly stubbled jawline seemed oddly familiar.

“Martin?” I asked, blinking. The large, antlered deer he carried on his muscular shoulders had tricked my eyes for an instant, but it certainly wasn’t some monster before me.

“I knew I heard someone over here. You’re not hurt, are you?” Martin offered me his hand. It felt a little rougher than what I remembered, but he picked me up with the same gentle ease.

“No, I… I… oh, God.” I staggered up to him and pressed my face against his faded green shirt, wrapping my arms around his solidly built body. I felt so safe—at least until the musty smell of the deer’s blood reached me. The taste of pennies in my mouth made me gag.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I… I think I just killed someone.” I wiped away the sticky trails left by my sweat and tears. My chest trembled as I thought of Tommy, lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Well, nobody’s followed you. If you want, you can join me for lunch while your head clears.” Martin watched me with unblinking eyes, brow furrowed with concern. A few seconds went by, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. Then he ruffled his messy black hair self-consciously and broke eye contact.

“Didn’t you hear me? I just killed someone!” I gasped for air, barely containing a fresh outburst of tears. Martin sighed and turned his face back to me.

“You probably feel like you’ll never be normal again, but that’ll pass. Trust me. Come on, some food will do you good.” He patted the deer on his shoulders. Despite his carefree smile, I saw a hint of sadness in his large, reassuring eyes. He strolled away before I could answer. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him.

***

“So, this is where you’ve been staying?” I asked as I admired the clear, sparkling pond near a quaint wooden cabin. My hands still shook slightly, but after walking for about an hour through the peaceful forest, I no longer felt as if a stiff breeze would make me burst into tears.

“Yeah, I stumbled upon this place a few hours after leaving New Jerusalem. It seemed abandoned, so I thought to myself
, Why not?
” He swung a rope over the branch of a nearby tree, the deer still resting on his shoulders.

“At least it doesn’t looks like you’ve worried about food.” I tried to smile as I hugged myself, hanging onto the sliver of warmth I was beginning to feel inside me.

“Why, are they short on food at New Jerusalem? By the way, I heard you were attacked recently. I hope your friend’s all right.” Martin turned to face me. He hadn’t asked me about the town or the incident with the boys during our walk, respecting my silence.

“Yeah, she’s fine. It’s all fine,” I said, my gaze wandering. I could only hope Karla really was still fine.

Martin nodded, the shadow of a smile on his face, and tied an end of the rope around the deer’s neck. He pulled on it until the poor creature was left dangling in the air by its neck.

“I’m pretty sure it’s already dead, you know?” I pointed at the deer. My hand shook slightly.

Martin let out a brief chuckle and went into the cabin, crushing the dry grass beneath his military-style boots. Although he was lean and strong, I’d have been amazed if he’d ever stepped inside a gym. No, I pictured the twenty-something guy earning his physique chopping wood, climbing mountains, and wrestling bears.

“Better safe than sorry. Deer are notoriously crafty animals,” Martin said after he emerged from the cabin carrying a large bucket and a pair of knives. “Would you mind holding this for me?”

Martin handed me the smaller knife, which I took without giving it much thought. He then went over to the deer’s swaying corpse and opened the lid on the bucket, from which he extracted a smaller plastic bucket. I was pretty sure he’d done some hunting before the world as we knew it came crashing down around us.

“Hey, Martin, what did you do for a living before… you know?” I walked toward him. “I’m guessing you were in the army or something, huh?”

“For a while, but the army’s got too much bureaucracy. I joined a private security company. Less paperwork. The pay’s a lot better, as well.”

“Private Security Company? What, you were like a mercenary or something?” I asked.

Martin shook his head, holding the large knife in one hand and steadied the deer’s corpse with the other. “Yeah… like a mercenary.” He looked at me with a slightly patronizing smile. Martin buried the knife between the deer’s hind legs. I winced, feeling as if he’d stabbed
me
in the gut, but managed to steady myself.

“And what exactly did you—oh no…”

Martin swiftly drove the blade up to the animal’s sternum. He stuck his hand inside the deer’s open chest and pulled out its intestines, which cascaded into the bucket with a mushy
flop
. A thick stream of blood splashed over them, the pungent scent of raw meat wafting all around me.

I turned my face away and coughed violently as I marched toward the pond. The deer’s bloodied guts spilling out of its corpse triggered memories of Tommy. I figured the boys were probably taking his body back to New Jerusalem right then—slowly carting it along the deserted highway with its legs flopping at the edge of the wheelbarrow—while Danny muttered promises of vengeance under his breath. I could almost hear Tommy’s mother howling as she saw her son’s corpse, blaming the boys for his death.

And then they’ll blame me.

I sniffed deeply and brushed my tears away as Martin stomped over to me.

“Are you okay, Rebecca? I’m sorry if I upset you, I—”

“I just need some air. Don’t worry about me—just carry on.” I returned the small blade he’d given me.

“All right. I just thought you’d be interested in getting a few survivalist tips.” Martin gazed at the pond as he stood next to me.

“Yeah, maybe some other time. I’ll keep an eye out for any other harmless animals you could butcher, though, all right?” I sat down on the grass.

Martin walked away without further comment. Pretty soon, the sound of a knife hacking through flesh—a bit like lettuce leaves being crushed—broke the forest’s peaceful silence.

***

“I thought you felt sorry for the gentle creatures of the forest.” Martin leaned over the campfire to get me another piece of meat from the grill. An hour had passed since we’d reached his cabin—and over eight hours since I'd had my sparse breakfast at Karla’s place.

“I’m hungry, all right?” I said, surprised to discover I hadn’t lost my appetite even with the cold sensation lingering in my stomach.

The venison took some time to chew and had a stronger, greasier taste than beef, but I had to restrain myself to keep from following Martin’s example and using only a knife to eat rather than balancing the plate on my lap and attacking the meat with the proper cutlery. Whoever said that hunger is the best spice knew what he was talking about.

“And what are you planning to do with that, Martin?” I pointed at the bucketful of raw meat cuts and edible organs. “It’s not like you can stuff it in the freezer.”

“I’ll drop it off at a nearby settlement. You’re welcome to come, of course, but if you want to get to New Jerusalem before sundown I’d advise hitting the road soon.” He started clearing away the campsite.

The choking sensation returned with the prospect of facing the fallout of Tommy’s killing. For all I knew, I’d be walking straight into the loving embrace of a lynch mob’s noose.

“I don’t know. I guess I’d like to check out that settlement. I still haven’t heard anything from my parents—maybe I could find them there,” I said, not all that convinced. With each passing day, the chances of seeing my mom and dad again seemed slimmer.

Martin gazed at the campfire’s flames with his dark, soulful eyes for a few seconds. “I don’t think so. The settlement’s mostly made up of the survivors of some Asian-Indian community from Queens—people who weren’t admitted into New Jerusalem.”

I recalled the day we arrived and the dark-skinned woman who was screaming and crying as she and her son were forced to leave with nothing but a water bottle and a bag of chips.

“Someone might’ve seen them, though. I’ve got to try,” I said.

Martin looked away but nodded. “Sure. It’s worth a shot. I’d take that off, though.” Martin pointed at the white armband still pinned to my shirt—the same armband worn by the people who’d turned him and every other non-Christian away from the only refuge for miles around after the disaster struck.

I tossed the piece of white fabric into the campfire and stared as the flames slowly turned it to ash. My brief stint in New Jerusalem’s militia was over.