Mercy, Page 2

  A horse neighed and stomped in response to a larger gust of wind as Danny rounded the corner of the barn. Instead of entering, she continued to the bunkhouse and paused at the door. She knew Tom wouldn’t have asked her to spy on Bishop if it weren’t important. Given the discovery of a secret radio…she guessed the implications could be far-reaching. Gathering a breath, she pushed through the entrance and blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the gloomy interior.

  Sam might be rather brilliant, but he was a horrible housekeeper. His bed was unmade, with clothes strewn across it. A towel and mismatched dirty socks were piled next to it on the floor. Four cups, all half-full of liquid, were sitting on the only table, along with several sheets of paper and two notebooks. Randomly stacked wood had fallen to the side of the woodstove and scattered across the floor so that Danny nearly tripped over it.

  Bishop’s half of the room, on the other hand, was tidy and well kept. His bed was even made with sharp corners folded in the covers and his bag was neatly placed at the foot of it, on the floor.

  Already feeling guilty, Danny grabbed the large hiking backpack and set it on the bed. Unclasping the top, she gingerly reached in and took a few items out one at time. A comb, bug spray, and deodorant. She wondered why Bishop hadn’t taken it with him, and figured it was because such a large bag would be cumbersome on a horse, and unnecessary for such a short trip. Sighing, Danny fully committed and, lifting the bag, shook all of its contents out onto the bed.

  Two changes of hiking clothes and a pair of extra shoes fell out. There were also several pairs of socks, a useless flashlight, and a first-aid kit. She felt like it was getting harder to breathe as Danny heard a noise and looked up to find Grace sitting in the middle of the room, watching her. “Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, turning her attention back to the bag. She was taking too long and needed to get to the horses.

  There were several side pockets and the inside one contained the first item of any interest. It was an old photograph of a younger Bishop and teenage boy, although they were close to the same size. Danny could see the resemblance and assumed it was most likely his son. Hadn’t someone said he had one that was supposed to be in Germany when the gamma-ray hit? There was nothing written on the back, so she set it aside. The only other thing in the pocket was a compass. Except it wasn’t an ordinary compass, but an ornate piece made from silver and inside there was an engraved message:

  Colonel Campbell

  May you always find your way home

  Campbell? Danny didn’t know what Bishop’s real name was, so the compass could belong to anyone…but she was certain it was his. She found it very believable that the man served some time in the military, and although that might give her reason to doubt him, the effect was just the opposite. If nothing else, Bishop seemed like a man of integrity, and the one thing Danny was still sure of was her gut. It had never let her down.

  She hurriedly started to place the contents back in the bag, trying to remember how they’d been packed. Giving up quickly, Danny huffed and randomly jammed it all inside. It would be better if she confessed, anyway. He’d probably understand.

  The door swung on its hinges, moaning as another gust of wind blew into the room. Danny jumped at the sound and dropped the backpack to the floor as Grace whined again. The dog smacked her chops and jumped to her feet, ready to leave.

  “Okay, Grace, I’m with you. Let’s get out of here.” Relieved that she didn’t find anything incriminating, Danny ran for the stalls, eager to get the horses saddled and underway for the day. She grabbed at the radio as she went, trying one more time.

  “Miller Ranch to anyone on this channel. Can you read me? Over.”

  Random clicks and more static. Danny was pretty sure that meant someone was at least trying to talk to her. Whether or not they could hear what she was saying, though, she had no way of knowing. “If you can hear me, I’m unable to read you. Please update with any information on the group if it comes in.”

  Gritting her teeth to keep from cussing again, Danny went to re-clip the radio, but paused when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She was in front of the large double doors of the barn, looking to the southwest. The girls should be southeast of that location, and everyone else was nowhere near there. It was essentially the back part of the main property that adjoined all of the various trails and roads into the eastern fields.

  Grace began to growl low in her throat as Danny froze and searched for the source of the motion. She knew she wasn’t imagining it—Grace’s reaction only confirmed it.

  She was being watched. Although she couldn’t see anyone, Danny knew instinctively that she wasn’t alone. Slowly, she reached behind her for the edge of the door, getting ready to dive inside.

  Before she’d even touched the wooden frame, a loud shot cracked nearby and Danny’s head simultaneously whipped around as something struck it. She could still hear the sound echoing as the ground rushed towards her and everything went black.

  Chapter 3

  CHLOE

  Miller Ranch, Mercy, Montana

  “I have to go see him tonight! I don’t care if it’s dark out,” Crissy insisted. Dropping the armload of tools she was carrying, she turned to Chloe and stuck her hands on her hips. “Trevor is going to think I’ve forgotten about him!”

  Snorting, Chloe reached for one of the sickles, the blisters on the palm of her hand reminding her to put her gloves on. “I don’t think that’s possible. Besides, you missed one day, Crissy. One. Day.” The insane wind churned the dirt at their feet, sending a billowing cloud of dust up and around them before dissipating. It was going to be an interesting day.

  Chloe wiped at her stinging eyes and stood with the sickle before pulling at her gloves, then stopped and bit her lip to keep from scoffing again when she saw the look on her friend’s face. The girl was serious. Unbelievable. “Look,” she said instead, trying with every fiber of her being to not make fun of Crissy. “We’re getting such an early start out here, I’m sure we’ll manage to have dinner at a decent time. I’ll offer to go with you, so Sandy shouldn’t protest, even if it’s dark out.”

  Crissy beamed. “Really, Chlo?”

  Feeling a little guilty, she nodded eagerly. “You bet!”

  In reality, Chloe was only offering because she knew Ethan, being the gentleman that he was, would insist on going with them. The two of them could then duck out of the clinic after visiting with Trevor for a few minutes and attempt to have some fun. Patty had said she was welcome to sort through the supplies in the basement of City Hall. She could use some soap, and even though it would be kinda late, Chloe was hoping to catch Caleb there. She really wanted to show Ethan the transcripts from the mystery transmissions and get his take on it.

  Thinking about Ethan prompted Chloe to pause and look out across what was left of the hayfield. She knew he’d be gone for at least a couple of hours, and that it was important to make sure the cows were secure, but he definitely made the time pass more quickly when he was with her. Ethan could also cut an impressive amount of hay in a short span of time. The sooner they finished with the grueling chore, the faster they could move on to everything else. Like implementing her plan for digging out the water trough and getting to work on Henry’s Hollow. He still needed to show the cave to her.

  “Have you asked Ethan to the dance yet?” Crissy asked, moving up next to Chloe.

  She looked over at her friend, assuming she was joking. “You can’t be serious.”

  Crissy positioned her hands on her sickle so she had a good grip before taking a practice swing. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She wrinkled her nose at Chloe. “Life must go on.”

  “You do know what’s happening beyond this farm, right?” Chloe demanded, her voice holding more contempt than she’d meant. Crissy looked at her with a pained expression. Of course she knew. Her friend wasn’t stupid; Crissy was just good at ignoring the upsetting stuff and focusing on the mundane. A characteristic Chloe had ne
ver embodied. She took a slow breath and tried again. “Don’t be surprised if they cancel the dance, after all that’s happened the past few days. But we’ll still have the barbeque,” she rushed to add, determined to be positive about something. “Everyone has to eat, no matter how messed up things get.”

  Chloe took several brisk steps until she reached the end of the row, and had a clear view up the hill. She faced into the wind, squinting, and was surprised that she didn’t see Danny headed their way. Looking for her would be a good distraction, because she couldn’t handle the conversation anymore. She’d gotten better at walking away from confrontations, instead of being so…Chloe-like. “I’m going to check on Danny,” she called back to Crissy. “She’s taking too long. Maybe she needs some help!” Her words were torn away by the wind, even though they were less than twenty feet apart. Crissy waved absently in acknowledgement and began swinging at the base of the tall grass.

  It was early morning, though it was much darker than it should have been, thanks to the gathering clouds. Chloe glanced up nervously at the lightning that was beginning to flicker through the base of the storm. Each time another bolt hit, the experience was worse than the last, and that was saying a lot. She’d never been afraid of storms before, but that was partly because they were predictable to a certain degree, and she knew what to expect. An odd strobing of bluish light preceded a hollow-sounding reverberation reminiscent of an alien vessel descending from the sky, punctuating Chloe’s thoughts. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have such a vivid imagination,” she scoffed, quickening her pace until she was almost running.

  Nearing the top of the hill, her legs were already burning and she slowed, noticing at the same time a strange sort of ozone smell. It was similar to the scent after an intense rain, or right before… Chloe froze, looking at the tool she was still holding. The long metallic blade on the end of the pole would be perfect for attracting electricity. Tossing the tool aside, she turned towards the barn that she could finally see in the distance. What in the world was Danny doing up there?

  Chloe spotted Grace first, as the dog ran back and forth. Frowning, she began to walk faster again. Something was definitely up. Danny was poised at the entrance to the barn and before Chloe could call out to her, there was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

  Ducking out of instinct, Chloe continued to rush forward and watched in horror as Danny flew backwards and fell to the ground. Another shot, closer than the first, and the ground near her feet erupted as a chunk of earth was scooped out.

  Someone was shooting at her.

  Gasping in shock, Chloe threw herself behind a tractor that was already beginning to rust. A bullet ricocheted off it as her face met the ground and she scrambled forward on her hands and knees. She could see Danny’s feet just inside the barn. They were moving.

  Closing her eyes in an effort to hold back the tears, Chloe took a deep, shuddering breath. “Get a grip, Chlo,” she muttered. She could hear Grace whimpering, and it spurred her into action. Eyes flashing open, Chloe gauged the distance from the edge of the oversized farm equipment to the barn door. It wasn’t far. Getting her feet under her, she crept ahead and readied herself.

  “One…two…” as she whispered three, Chloe launched herself at the opening. She landed hard on her hands and knees next to Danny, as another bullet harmlessly hit the side of the building.

  There was so much blood that at first that was all Chloe could focus on. “Oh, God,” she muttered, reaching for Danny. “Please…please be okay.”

  Moaning, Danny had both of her hands on her head, partially covering her face. Blood oozed between the fingers of her right hand, and it had pooled in the dirt under her. She lifted her right hand in response to Chloe’s words and waved her off while struggling to sit up. “Rifles,” she was whispering. “Get the rifles, Chloe.”

  Chloe blinked, and rocked back on her heels. Danny was talking. She was talking, so that meant she wasn’t going to die, right? Wait. The rifles. She was right. Someone was shooting at them, and they needed to shoot back.

  Staggering to her feet, Chloe looked around the gloomy barn, her thoughts hazy. The rifles should be by the door. The doors! Spinning back, she sidestepped the opening. Leaning into one half of the sliding doors, she pushed against it with all of her strength. The heavy structure shuddered in its tracks before sliding into place, effectively hiding them both.

  Taking several slow, measured breaths, Chloe’s head began to clear and she moved with more purpose. There were two rifles stored on the wall in a gun rack near the main entrance. She went to it, lifting down first one and then the other Winchester. They were both loaded and there was a box of .30-30 ammunition sitting on the top of the rack. She grabbed the box and then turned back to Danny.

  Grace was all over her, licking at her hands and trying desperately to get into Danny’s lap. “I’m okay, Grace,” she said weakly. Wrapping her right arm around the dog’s shoulders, she pulled the retriever close and stared up at Chloe. “I think it’s just my ear.”

  Chloe found that hard to believe, but wasn’t about to insist that Danny remove her hand from the wound. She was conscious and talking so that was good enough for the moment. “Did you see who it was?”

  Danny coughed once and then closed her eyes briefly before giving her head a small shake. When she spoke again, her words were clearer. “No, but whoever shot me wasn’t the same person I saw, so there’s at least two of them.”

  Chloe nodded in agreement. “Yeah, two different people were shooting.”

  “There are probably more.” Danny tried to stand, disrupting Grace from her lap. She made it as far as her knees and then stopped, blinking furiously as more blood dripped from where her hand was clasped. She struggled out of her sweatshirt and balled it up against her head to staunch the flow.

  Chloe rushed to help her, but Danny waived her off again and sat back down. “Give me one of the rifles, then go and see if you can spot anyone. Here,” she added, reaching awkwardly for the radio at her waist. “See if you can get through.”

  After giving Danny a rifle, she cautiously peered around the door she’d pulled across, being careful to avoid the rest of the open space. Without exposing herself, she couldn’t really see much. Frustrated, she tried the radio. “Hello. This is Chloe at the Miller Ranch. Someone is shooting at us. Can anyone hear me?” After a few seconds of silence, there were several clicks and only static. “Great.”

  “Here,” Danny was reaching for her, so Chloe went and gave the radio back to her. “Go and look out the other end,” she instructed, pointing at Chloe. “But be careful. It’s got to be the desperados. They must have used the Miner’s Trail.”

  Chloe didn’t think she could feel any worse, but the suggestion that they were being attacked by a group of homicidal outlaws ratcheted up the fear factor. “Crissy!” she gasped, horrified she’d left her friend alone. And what would happen when Sandy, Sam, and Ethan walked into the attack unknowingly? Motivated by the need to protect her friends, Chloe ran to the other side of the barn, and its regular-sized door. It was already standing partway open, so she sidled carefully into the space and peered out.

  She could see part of the hayfield from there, though Crissy was at the lower end and out of view. Thankfully, Chloe didn’t spot anyone else there, but there were two riders on horseback between it and the barn. They were rough, dangerous-looking men, both armed with rifles. One was poised almost directly in front of Chloe, between her and the farmhouse, while the other was to her right, in the direction of the Miner’s Trail and upper fields. A third man, on foot, walked between them and it looked like he held a pistol.

  They were being surrounded.

  Anger suddenly surged and mixed with Chloe’s fear, and the extra adrenaline rush nearly took her breath away. If the men managed to surround them, and there were as many outlaws as Tom suspected, she and Danny were dead. Or worse.

  Chloe moved without hesitation, not allowing herself time to think through her ac
tions. Otherwise, she might chicken out. Dropping to a knee, she engaged the lever-action and then brought the butt of the rifle snug against her shoulder, just like Bishop had taught her.

  The man on horseback was less than fifty feet away and a perfect target. She thought of Danny, bleeding on the ground behind her and what the men would do if they got inside the barn. Chloe pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 4

  TOM

  Mercy, Montana

  Another shot. There was no question anymore that they came from the ranch.

  Tom’s chest tightened more at each report, until it was difficult to draw a breath. They were too late. The outlaws were attacking his family and it was his fault they were left unprotected.

  “Tom! We can’t keep up,” Bishop shouted as the rest of the riders fell farther behind him. “And your horse is about to drop.”

  Lilly’s steps faltered and she barely caught herself before pressing on. She was frothing at the mouth, sides heaving. Tom knew Bishop was right. The mare would drop dead before stopping. He’d been pushing her beyond any rational limits the whole night, only resting a handful of times. They were so close.

  “Whoa,” Tom called to her as he straightened in the saddle. “It’s okay, Lilly. Take it easy, now.” He studied the road ahead as she slowed to a trot, estimating they had another three miles to go. He could run on foot the rest of the way if he had to, even though he wasn’t much better off than the horse.

  Tom had been awake for nearly thirty hours and operating off sheer determination for most of the night. When they were unable to raise anyone on the radio as they neared Mercy, their concern worsened. It could have been from the approaching storm, but it seemed unlikely…and calculated. If the military was involved in some sort of plot to take over the town, destroying the repeater would have been a smart move.