The Mer Betrayal

Havermouth, Present Time

The smoke was chaos. There were more zombies, not less, this time through, as if they’d been leaking in from all directions whilst Heath and Rhett had been interrogated by Benethin and Aeylira on the other side of the smoke.

Even with an army of Mer soldiers around them, it seemed that every few steps in the smoke, Rhett encountered a new zombie, or occasionally a desperate Van Helsing soldier, injured by the Mer and then savaged by his own zombie troop. Rhett crushed and mangled them, not caring if they were Van Helsing or zombie, just over the whole thing, and trying to ignore the fact that some of the zombies were still people enough to plead before they died.

“Rhett Salem,” Abigail’s voice was weak, but he knew it. He stopped immediately, causing Heath to almost walk into him. “Heath Gale.”

“Shit,” Rhett changed direction, not missing that several Mer followed. He and Heath weren’t in chains or cuffs, but they were far from free. The Mer were keeping them