Merritt's Story - Chapter 8 Free Excerpt

This is a free excerpt from chapter 8 of Merritt's story.

So far, I've posted up to chapter 16 in Merritt's story, for a total of 314 pages and 103k words.  But since the current scene of DOTU involves Merritt and Troy, I thought it'd be nice to release a free excerpt from one of the chapters showing the first time the two of them met.  For the full scene, $2+ patrons can read chapter 7 and chapter 8 here.

In this excerpt: Merritt, currently a North Sphere sergeant, has been assigned to escort Troy through the treacherous North Sphere waterways to help him launch a surprise attack on the neighboring West Sphere's border.  But Troy has bigger plans than just an attack on the West...

More Free Reads: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2 Excerpt]

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[Table of Contents]

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Chapter 8 Excerpt

A press of the thumb against the panel, and Merritt opened the stairwell door, motioning for Troy to pass. “Best of luck in battle, sir.”

Troy held out a hand. “Good working with you, Merritt North.”

“The honor is mine, sir.” Merritt reached out to shake Troy’s hand.

“One more thing,” Troy said. His hand darted forward past the offered palm, grabbing Merritt by the wrist. With stunning strength he hadn’t revealed during their grappling the night before, he yanked Merritt forward, turning him around and twisting his arm behind his back. Into Merritt’s ear, he whispered, “Armbands don’t shake hands.”

Merritt felt something cold and hard against his temple, and he could tell by Troy’s posture that he wielded a previously concealed pistol.

“This is hardly the thank-you I was expecting,” he said through shallow breaths.

“It’s a thank-you, all right. Someday you’ll understand.” Troy pressed the pistol harder against Merritt’s head. “Hands up.”

As soon as Troy released his wrist, Merritt did as told.

Troy pulled the pistols from Merritt’s dual holsters and tossed them aside. Then he attempted to unlatch the straps holding Merritt’s poisons.

“They don’t come off easy, sir,” Merritt said.

“Sure they do.” Pulling out a knife, Troy deftly sliced the straps apart, catching the packs before they could clatter to the ground and setting them down carefully so as not to release any poisons by accident. When he was done, he grabbed hold of the back of Merritt’s shirt collar. “Let’s go.”

When Troy tried to nudge him past the stairwell’s threshold, he resisted. “What good could I possibly be to you outside of this room, sir? I told you, once we’re past that door, I won’t be able to reauthorize your thumbprint for the second gate.”

“You were lying. You had guilt written all over your face. You wanted me to believe you’d disabled my thumbprint so I wouldn’t go after you.”

“Pretty risky, sir, testing out your theory without a safety net.”

“I got a safety net,” Troy said. “Move.” He shoved a knee against the back of Merritt’s thigh, forcing him to stumble forward.

Hands still up, Merritt nearly tripped going down the stairs. Troy’s grip on his shirt collar pulled the fabric uncomfortably tight around his neck. “Sir, I have to remind you that killing your escort will do nothing to help your relationship with the North.”

It was a good thing he had his back to Troy; his deceptively cool tone was the perfect cover for his failed poker face. 

Troy laughed. “I could do whatever the hell I want with you, and I know it’s not gonna get me on Belmont’s bad side. And if someone higher up than Belmont cares about you, then maybe you’d make a good bargaining chip.”

“I really wouldn’t, sir. But I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”

“You talk a lot.” They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Troy shoved Merritt out onto the sub-street ahead of him, into the middle of eight Elite Squad soldiers with their weapons drawn.

“How thoughtful, Troy,” a familiar tall woman with soot-stained eyes said. Merritt recognized her immediately: Pangolin, Elite Squad Strategic Officer. “You brought us a gift.”

“Wrapped in a nice blue ribbon,” a man with a gray-brown beard and bandaged head said.

“Where’s the cargo bike?” Troy asked.

The man pointed down the street. “We brought a spare rider, too.”

“Good. Jackal, load him into the cargo hold after the second gate is unlocked.”

“Got it,” the bearded man said.

Merritt waved one of the hands he was holding up, trying to get Troy’s attention. “As I told you, sir, I can’t unlock the second gate without reauthorizing thumbprint access from the control room.”

At this, Pangolin let out a sharp laugh that reminded Merritt of an eagle call. “Oh man, has he been calling you ‘sir’ this entire time? That is so cute. No wonder you want to keep him.”

“Fuck off, Pangolin.”

“‘Sir Troy,’” Pangolin said with a snort. “Don’t tell me you actually miss that shit.”

Merritt observed their banter, curious. Troy was Pangolin’s senior officer, and yet she treated him more like a brother than a superior. And Troy did nothing to chastise her. He didn’t even seem genuinely insulted. How did the East Sphere military not crumble under this level of insubordination?

Then again, Merritt knew Pangolin. He’d faced her in battle and had only survived due to sheer luck and help from his allies. When she fought, she was impossible to track. Even video footage couldn’t keep up with her inhuman agility. If anyone’s talent could excuse them from expectations of subservience, it was her.

Troy jerked him forward again, pushing him toward the second gate while his squad flanked them at either side. When they reached the metal barrier, Troy gestured with his head toward the thumbprint sensor. “Do it.”

“It’ll do no good, sir.”

“Pardus.”

The soldier named Pardus stepped forward at Troy’s command, grabbing Merritt’s wrist and forcing his hand to the thumbprint sensor. After holding it in place for several seconds, the panel still showed no response.

By the feeling of Troy’s fist tightening at his collar, Merritt could tell that Troy hadn’t gotten the outcome he’d expected. “It isn’t too late to let me return to the control room, sir. The doors won’t auto-lock for a few more minutes, and I’m a forgiving person.”

Troy pushed the pistol harder against Merritt’s temple. “Belmont told me you’d have a backup key.”

Why would you tell him that, Belmont?

He ignored the sting of betrayal. “Sir, I don’t have any such key.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Sir, it would be in your best interest to let me return to the control room.”

Still holding gun to temple, Troy wrapped his other arm around Merritt’s neck. “Search him,” he said to his soldiers.

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