The Restoration Project

2.13 - Merrick

His arm itched. The inside of his elbow, to be more precise. He scratched it, but it didn't help. It was deeper than that. Under his skin. All over his body. He stopped, wanting to hide his discomfort, even though Sunnyside's eyes were glued to the darkening sky, his mouth hanging open. He was still experiencing the effects of the Liquid Gold shot. Lucky bastard.

Merrick continued to push through the thick foliage, but stopped when he saw a building carved out of the forest in front of him. Rusty nuzzled his hand, as if wondering what they were doing.

"Whaddya stoppin' for?" Sunnyside asked.

Merrick pointed at the building. They needed to redress Sunnyside's wound soon. They had been walking for at least an hour, each step putting unnecessary strain on the hastily applied stitches. Merrick didn't want to stop—Sunnyside's pace had slowed their progress enough already—but he didn't want to drag Sunnyside along tomorrow. Also, he could use a little break himself. His left hand tapped the pocket of his jeans.

"It's getting dark," Merrick said, pointing at the sun falling behind the trees. Light drained from the sky. 

"And you want to stay there?" Sunnyside pointed at the building. It was falling apart. The windows were shattered, a portion of the roof had collapsed, and vines grew out of every hole like the tentacles of a kraken. A driveway leading through the brush was overgrown and barely recognizable.

"Not like we have any other choice," Merrick said.

"You know there's not gonna be much to search in there," Sunnyside pointed out.

"We don't need much. Just a room with a door," Merrick replied as he shrugged off his backpack and took out a couple Jammers.

"Could be booby-trapped," Sunnyside said.

"Does it look like anyone has been here since it all started?" Merrick asked, aside from the odd squatter like themselves, of course.

"Maybe that's what they want you to think."

He was being difficult. "We don't know where the next building will be and I'm not gonna be stuck out in the open at sundown," Merrick said. As if to agree with him, or hurry him up, Rusty barked into the tress behind them.

Sunnyside relented and sighed, issuing Merrick toward the mill.

Merrick led the way, with Rusty at his side, and scratched the inside of his arm again. When he realized he was doing this, he shoved his hand in his pocket and wrapped it around two more vials of Liquid Gold. He had taken them from the cooler before leaving Walther's, along with the one he gave Sunnyside.

The entrance to the mill was a set of double doors, although a chain had been looped through the handles and padlocked shut.

"I got this," Sunnyside grunted, elbowing Merrick aside. He unslung his backpack, wobbled as it put him off balance, and removed a pair of bolt cutters. He then put them to the chain and snipped. The chain rattled off the handles and fell to the ground. "You get to take it from here."  

Merrick pulled out a flashlight and shone it forward. Rusty padded along beside him, squeezing through the doorway. Leaves and dirt covered the bare wooden floor. The air smelled of sawdust and earth and piss. A few rats skittered and squeaked at their presence.

The inside was larger than Merrick expected, with an open layout aside from support pillars jutting up from the floor and the section of collapsed roof on his left. The main mill sat in the middle of the space, a rusted hunk of metal with jagged saws. A conveyor belt led to a large sliding door that was currently closed.

The door banged shut behind them. He whipped around, aiming his flashlight at Sunnyside's pale face. Sunnyside grimaced. "Aim that thing somewhere else."