Grant Us Mercy (Book 4): Grant Us Mercy

by Little, D. C.

  “I’m not judging, Laurie.”

  “Oh, I know. Many of us have decided to share dwellings. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.” She sat down on the bed opposite. “This is his bed.”

  “I’m sure it helps to share resources, and I can imagine it feels safer with him here.”

  “Yeah.” Laurie looked up at her. “We both lost our spouses years ago. It’s hard to let go, you know.”

  “I can imagine.” The idea sat close to home. During the year before life had changed, Kris had thought of what she would do if Blake never returned. It sent a shiver through her, causing Mercy to whimper.

  Kris sat Mercy up and patted her back. As she thought of a life without Blake, her whole heart shuddered. Not only would it leave them at a detriment for their survival, how could she ever look at another man? No one could compare with her husband.

  She put Mercy back into her wrap and decided she needed to feel Blake’s arms around her right then. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too hard to find in the large encampment.

  ~3~

  Blake marveled at the bow he held in his hand. He had learned how to craft a bow out of PVC pipe and other scavenged materials while in the service, but the craftsmanship of the bow he held now went beyond scavenged materials. The smooth wood bent seamlessly and the string made from deer sinew made a nice thrumming sound as he loosed his arrow, hitting the target exactly where he had aimed.

  “This bow is unbelievable,” Blake said softly, not meaning to say it aloud.

  “Our resident carpenter, Frank. A retirement hobby that has now become a necessity for our survival.” Arland nodded at the bow. “I bet he would trade you for one.”

  “Think he would trade to teach me how to make one?” Blake rubbed his hand up and down the bow. With the skill he could make one the perfect size for Tucker, one he could pull back and have enough strength for a kill shot on a large animal.

  “You teach our group of hunters how to shoot like that, and I’ll teach you all I know,” a man with greying hair and a lined face reached out his hand toward Blake. “Frank Anderson.”

  “Blake Chantry.” Blake took his wrinkled but strong hand in his own.

  “I know who you are,” the man said with a wink. “What do you say? Trade?”

  “A skill for a skill.” Blake nodded. “I like it.”

  “I can see it now, Blake. You’ll learn to love us.” Arland slapped him on the back.

  Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He had hoped it would be Tucker. He didn’t like the idea of him traipsing off into the forest without him or his mother, but he was with Hannah and the other kids. He should be fine.

  Yet, a nagging fear ate away at him. He would give the group a few more minutes to return before he excused himself to go find his son.

  The person coming toward them might not have been Tucker as he hoped, but it was his wife. The closer she came, the more he worried. Her eyes shined as if she were about to cry, and her steps quickened until she was in his arms.

  “What’s the matter, Krista?” he asked, holding her with their infant daughter between them.

  “It just feels weird being away from you and Tucker.” She blinked and looked around. “Where is Tucker?” The quiver in her voice didn’t hide the anxiety that he knew coursed through her.

  “He went with Hannah. She said she told you,” Blake said, looking off in the direction they had disappeared into the trees.

  “Hannah takes the kids out there all the time to learn about edible plants, how to snare, and just to get them used to being out in the forest.” Arland stepped up to them. “They stay within our guards so there is no reason to worry.”

  “We are never apart, Arland. It’s hard on a mom’s psyche.” Kris’s voice remained calm, but her hands squeezed his shirt.

  “Well, I’ll come with you to find him and soothe your worries.” Arland took a few steps toward the woods, and they followed him.

  “Thank you,” Kris said.

  Blake thought the words, too. Kris provided the perfect excuse to ensure their son was safe.

  As they walked through the wooded area, Blake noticed there was a path carved out by all the footsteps. Better for the kids and foragers, but easier for people to follow the trails to the camp. Sure Arland had guards roaming the outskirts, but how well did they patrol such a large area?

  His question was answered as they came around a bend to find an older child running toward them.

  “Arland!” The kid who looked about twelve panted and bent over to catch his breath.

  “Scott, what is it?” Arland bent down to his level.

  “Someone’s here,” he said through his pants. “I think it’s Jake, but he’s all beat up. Hannah told me to come get you.”

  “You did well, son. Now, continue on to camp and tell Mitchel to grab a couple guys and bring them back. Which trail is he on?”

  “Stay to the right the whole way.”

  Blake didn’t stay to hear the rest. With one look at Kris’s wide eyes and a nod of her head, he took off in the direction the kid had described. He took note of the well-worn trails and the surroundings, but he focused on getting to his son.

  When he rounded the bend to see a group of kids huddled around a man on the ground, he saw Tucker looking right at him. He stood back from the group, a hand on his knife, and eyes constantly scanning. Tucker took two running steps, meeting him in the middle.

  “Dad!” Tucker wrapped his arms around him.

  “You okay?” Blake asked, checking him over.

  “Yeah, Dad, but this guy doesn’t look too good. We found him like this.” Tucker pointed to the man in the middle of the trail where Hannah offered him sips of water from her canteen.

  “You’re doing great, son.” He stood and walked over to squat next to Hannah.

  Hannah looked up, briefly assessing him before turning her attention back to the man. His face was a mass of contusions and blood. His eyes were nearly swollen shut, but they widened slightly when he saw Blake.

  “It’s good to see you, Blake. Can you help him?” Hannah asked, hope lining her voice.

  “I’ve got my kit, Dad.” Tucker had pulled out his first aid kit and handed it to him.

  “I think he’s a bit beyond your kit, Tuck, but thank you. We need to get him home to camp and washed up to assess the damage.”

  “Jake doesn’t live here. He brings news now and again, but he’s not a part of our camp,” Hannah said.

  Blake, felt for a pulse on the man’s throat. A strong beat let him know the man would more than likely make it through. Something pulled in his memory. He had met a Jake the day he brought Hannah home. Could this be the same one?

  Jake’s hand shot out and weakly grasped Blake’s wrist. “They have my family...” The words were rasped and weak, but full of urgency.

  “Who?” asked Blake, the hairs on his neck bristling.

  “Men from the city,” he rasped out before trying to push up.

  “He has two young children,” Hannah whispered, horror living in her eyes.

  “Arland!” The kids cheered as he and Kris holding Mercy came around the bend.

  Blake stood. “I don’t think your perimeters are secure. If he was followed...”

  “No one’s following...” Jake muttered.

  “Let’s get him back to camp and figure this out,” Arland said with authority.

  This was his camp, so Blake would not overstep. He wrapped his arms around his family, wishing they were back home where he knew how to protect them. If it was his camp, he would be sending men to check each perimeter, double the guard, and be interrogating the man on the ground before bandaging him up.

  Blake felt Arland’s stare then. The man nodded up the trail. Blake kissed his family on their heads and followed the community leader up the trail a short ways.

  “I see the look in your eyes. Care to share?” Arland stood, arms crossed, gaze intense and earnest.

  “I would b
e securing the perimeter and finding out what’s going on before taking him back to camp.” Blake squeezed his fists, trying to keep himself from ordering Arland around. This wasn’t his fight, but his family was in the midst of it.

  Arland nodded.

  Footsteps running around the bend drew their attention. Four men approached with the boy they had ran into on the trail.

  “Mitchel,” Arland said, walking back toward the group, “take two of these men and secure the south perimeter. Look for any other signs of movement. We’ll be doubling the guard tonight.”

  “Will do,” Mitchel said and looked at the two men closer in age to Blake, and they jogged up the trail.

  The young man left hadn’t taken his eyes off Hannah.

  “Tyler,” Arland called to him.

  The young man tore his eyes off Hannah and looked toward Arland. “Yes, sir.”

  “Escort Hannah and the children back to camp and sound the bell. We need to be on alert just in case trouble is coming this way.”

  “Yes, sir.” He nodded and then turned toward the kids. “Let’s go guys. How about we practice our ninja moves on the way back to camp.”

  Blake saw the small smile on Hannah’s lips as she rose, her gaze on Tyler. The look only lasted a moment, but long enough so that Kris would be talking about the love interest. Yet, Hannah’s eyebrows scrunched as she looked down at Jake one last time. She came up to her father who draped a long arm around her.

  “You all right?” Arland asked her daughter.

  “Yeah, Dad. Jake says men from the city have his family. We will help them, won’t we?” Hannah’s eyes teared up.

  “You know we will do what we can.” Arland nodded. “Now take your charges back to camp and stay safe. We’ll know more soon.”

  She nodded, kissed his cheek, and followed the group of ninja-walking kids. Tucker, though, stood by Blake’s side, his hand still on his knife.

  “Do you want to go with the kids, Tucker?” Blake lowered down to ask his son.

  “No, I want to stay with my sister.” A stern expression of protectiveness filled his eyes.

  “Sounds good to me,” he said and rose, meeting Kris’s eyes. He read them as he did and knew that she wouldn’t allow him to whisk them off to safety. He prepared for a battle he wished he had never heard of as he squatted next to Jake. “Tell me everything.”

  ~*~

  As much as Kris wanted to pull Tucker out of hearing distance of Blake’s interrogation, she couldn’t stop listening. Blake had talked about what things would be like after an apocalyptic event, but hearing it from the bruised lips of a man in desperate need to save his family sent chills coursing through her.

  He described the men as sick skeletons with no morals. They wanted food, food that Jake didn’t have. The threat they had given if Jake didn’t return by sundown sent her covering Tucker’s ears and finally pulling back down the trail.

  “They wouldn’t really do that, would they, Mommy? They wouldn’t really hurt a baby.” His eyes went wide as his gaze dropped down to Mercy, sleeping in her wrap.

  “I would like to say no, Tuck, but starvation does strange things to people.” Kris squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to rip out the image from her mind and that of her son’s.

  Tucker’s face had gone pale and he wrapped his cold fingers around her hand while his others drew out the knife from its sheath.

  “I will protect my sister. No one will ever even look at her that way!” The grim line of his lips and his steely words made her wish she would have taken Tucker down the trail when the other kids had left.

  “No one will hurt your sister, Sweetie. We’re safe here.” She pulled him into her arms and repeated her words. “We’re safe here.”

  “I wish we were home.” Tucker’s whispered words hit her hard.

  She looked back up the trail as Blake walked toward them, his own lips a mirror image of her son’s. He was going to save that family, just like she had known he would. Blake brought them into the protection of his arms.

  “I have to,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she whispered back. She wouldn’t expect any less of him.

  Would Arland’s men have a chance without Blake? She didn’t know, but with Blake she had every confidence that the family not only would be saved, but that the men accompanying him would be as well.

  Arland came into view, helping a limping Jake along the trail. Blake let go of them to help support the man as they traveled back to camp.

  “Dad won’t let those men near us. He’ll send them on to the Maker.” Tucker’s determined words shocked Kris. They had never talked about killing before, and the words he used were nothing like she would expect from him. Where had he heard this?

  As much as she wanted to admonish those thoughts, she couldn’t help but wonder if that wouldn’t be the best thing to do. Men that stoop that low could never be trusted, and there were no jails to house them to keep them from hurting others. Her stomach lurched, and she sent up an apology for her line of thinking...pushing the thought from her mind. She didn’t want to know. That decision lay on Blake’s shoulders, and as much as she wished it didn’t have to, she was grateful the burden wasn’t hers.

  ~*~

  Blake clenched his teeth as he sat in the meeting on the outskirts of camp. Men and women shouted opinions. Some were angry at Jake for making this their problem, some saying it had nothing to do with them. Others said they should just move camp and avoid the altercation all together.

  When consulting a mass of people like this, it never ended well. That was why the services had ranking officers to tell others what to do, no opinions needed. Without the intel or experience, those opinions didn’t matter in the first place.

  Arland patiently listened to everyone, a look of calm on his features.

  Blake growled low and pushed up to walk away from the group. He couldn’t stand the non-action a moment longer.

  “Blake, you have something to add?” Arland asked, a look in his eyes saying he wanted him to share with the group.

  “This is your group, Arland. It’s your choice to make.” Blake turned away.

  “We would be honored to have your opinion.” Arland’s words stopped him.

  Blake rubbed a hand down his face and turned back toward the man who had grown into a leader, although lacking in any tactical experience.

  “If men from the city have made it this far, they won’t be the last. People will go beyond what a person would assume sane when they’re starving. Can you save everyone?” He looked at the faces turned toward him. “No, you can’t.” Some of those expressions now turned dark. “Do you do everything you can to save your own?”

  The whole group affirmed in their own way, a roar of agreement.

  “But Jake isn’t one of us!” someone shouted.

  “He might not live here, but he was our neighbor. He has been providing us with valuable information,” another countered.

  Arland held up his hand calmly and turned back toward Blake. “Let’s say we decide to try to save Jake’s family. How would you suggest we go about it?”

  Blake held Arland’s gaze for a long moment, and then he looked at the others watching him, trust brimming in their eyes. He had done nothing to earn that trust. These were men and women surviving the best they could with the resources they had, pulling together as a group. A group he had no wish to be a part of.

  Yet, he couldn’t stand by while a family was being tortured. Those men wouldn’t stop there. They would keep assaulting more families, families that used to be his neighbors.

  Blake looked Arland right in the eyes and said, “You put me in charge.”

  ~*~

  Kris watched as the men prepared. The sun glinted off their guns, and she looked up, seeing that it hung just over the mountains. Dusk would come sooner than later. The family only had a short time left.

  After being under Laurie’s care for the last couple hours, Jake was now recognizable. He stood unsupported, his
eyes hard and knuckles white grasping the weapon in his hand. A touch of insanity lived behind his eyes. She understood. If it were her family, she would be a bit insane as well.

  Blake issued a few last instructions before swiping his face with mud. The others followed suit as he stepped away from them to bring his family into his arms.

  He kissed Mercy’s head as she reached out to grasp his mud-covered nose. He bent down and looked Tucker in the eye. “You keep your mom and sister safe. Do not leave their sides.”

  “I won’t, Dad. You bring those kids back.”

  “I will do my best, Champ.” He ruffled his hair and stood.

  He bent down and kissed Kris, long and hard. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you again,” he whispered, his forehead resting on hers. She didn’t mind the fact he made her muddy.

  “You’ll be back. You always come back.”

  “Nothing would stop me from protecting you.”

  “I know,” she said, kissing him one more time. She had every confidence that he would be back. He had been on far more dangerous assignments. “We always return to each other.”

  Blake and Tucker repeated the saying, and even Mercy cooed a response.

  “Look at you, joining in already.” Blake kissed the top of Mercy’s head.

  “Ready?” Arland asked, drawing Blake away.

  “You’re staying here, Arland.”

  Arland squared his shoulders.

  “I told you, if I did this I would be solely in charge. I need to know my family are in hands I trust.”

  Arland’s features relaxed and his arms dropped. “I will keep them safe with my life.”

  Blake nodded. With one last look at her and their children, he turned to the half-dozen men ready to follow him. “Let’s go.”

  As Kris watched her husband lead the men from camp, something settled deep within her. She was used to him leaving, going off on dangerous missions, but not like this, not when she knew the situation he walked into. This was the first time she saw him in action, saw the mask of command control his features, and saw him lead men as if he had been born to. She always thought of her husband as special, but seeing him this way and the awe in the faces around her cemented the knowledge. Her husband was The Survivalist.