GRANT
US
MERCY
A Post-Apocalyptic Serial Novel:
I n s t a l l m e n t T H R E E
D. C. L I T T L E
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2019 DC Little, Carson River Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
DEDICATION
To my Mountain MacGyver who inspires me every day and my special boy who sees things others only wish they could, and those unexpected miracles.
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
~1~
~2~
~3~
~4~
~5~
~6~
~7~
Free Book!
Next in Grant Us Mercy
SNEAK PEEK!!!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Wow! What a journey this has been! I have to say my first thank you to the wonderful lady, talented author, fierce mama, and supportive friend, Heather Yates, for encouraging me to go forth with my dream of writing Post-Apocalyptic even though it is so different from the genre I found my success in.
Of course, I need to thank my writer’s group, Women Writers of the Well. Without all of your support and encouragement I still would be writing stories for my eyes only. It’s been fun sharing this series with you every step along the way!
A heart-felt thank you to my fantastic editors, Dianne McCleery and Joan Simpson. Without your guidance and keen eye, my books wouldn’t be near as clean and consistent! And I can’t forget my ARC readers whose encouragement feeds me during those dry spells.
Thanks to my mom for her unwavering support and encouragement. And a special thanks for my Sis, whose namesake will be making a special star appearance in this installment.
And of course, where would I be without the two main men in my life! Thank you, My Love, for helping me with all the nuances of natural disasters and survival thinking. Your support in this project keeps me going strong. Thank you, My Little Love, and inspiration, for understanding how important Mommy’s writing time is and being excited whenever I receive one of my books in the mail.
~1~
DATE: May 23 10:18
Not again.
Kris wiped the sweat from her brow and leaned on the barrel that held the squash plant she worked on. The pain rippled through her stomach, tightening and clenching like a wide rubber band stretching across her. Her eyes squeezed shut as she blew her breath out. She had pushed too much...again.
Her son’s squeal of delight traveled to her from a hundred yards down the hill. The happy sound drew her back from the cramping. She was glad that Blake and Tucker couldn’t see her. The worry in their eyes made her heart ache.
Peeking through the bushy plant, she saw Tucker skip to the target they had set up on the edge of the forest below their house. At times she could almost pretend it was an ordinary early summer day. She worked in her barrel garden up near the house. Below her and past the play structure, the boys practiced shooting their bows—not for fun, but in preparation for a hunt, a hunt for meat necessary to live.
“Bullseye!” Tucker shouted. After pulling the arrow from the target, he held it up in victory. His eyes roamed up to where she was working on their garden barrels.
She stood then, letting him see her smiling down at him. With hands around her mouth, she yelled back, “Proud of you!”
He waved his hand before Blake walked up and patted him on the back. He leaned down to give him further instructions, and the boy’s eyes turned away from her once more. Though she was happy to see the pride Blake took in their son, there were moments she missed when it was just her and Tucker. These days she took a back seat in the relationship, especially since her condition kept her from the more rigorous activities.
Hands on her hips, she bent back, stretching her tight lower back. The Braxton Hicks spasms had become more frequent the last couple weeks. They increased to the point she couldn’t be sure if she lied to Blake when she told him they were nothing to worry about. It was too early to have early labor. She still had two months to go, and those two months were needed. She had a lot to accomplish to have enough food to last through another winter in the bunker.
Her chest tightened with the thought. She didn’t want to spend another winter in the bunker, especially not with an infant. She had two more months to convince Blake he didn’t either. Her husband’s sanity would not last being in such close proximity to a crying infant for so long, not to mention how in the world would she wash all the diapers?
Her mind spun with too much to think about and consider. If she allowed herself time to worry about everything, she would lose her grip on her own sanity. She had to be strong for her boys. Besides, Blake worried enough for all of them.
She focused on her task. They had twenty barrels, all full of vegetables. The self-watering system made this type of gardening so much easier. She moved on to a strawberry bed, happy to see a couple dozen red strawberries. Popping one into her mouth made her wish she could just eat them all right then.
She had found the video describing this system of gardening almost seven years ago, when she was pregnant with Tucker. Remembering the look of pride in Blake’s eyes when she asked if he could help her create this self-watering garden made her knees feel weak. If only he would look at her like that now.
Yet, every time she actually caught his gaze, the expression was far from pride. Fear and resentment filled them, leaving her wanting to cower and hide. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling her baby wiggle under the pressure. She couldn’t change what happened, and she wouldn’t want to. This baby was a part of her now, whether Blake could wrap his mind around it or not.
The baby was due in the midst of harvesting time, so she had to train Tucker on how to care for the plants, harvest them, and store them. Not that she would be able to be down for long. She prayed for an easy delivery, one that she could bounce back from quickly.
Her baby wiggled and kicked against her, causing a smile to erupt. Every time she felt the baby move, she couldn’t help but feel that everything was going to be okay. She took a hesitant glance toward her husband showing Tucker how to pull the bow farther back. Would Blake change his mind about the child after it was born?
~*~
Blake glanced up at his wife as she leaned against one of the barrels. He knew her spasms came more frequently, and fear shot up his spine with every one. He gritted his teeth to keep the harshness out of his voice while coaching his son. The boy was sensitive. Blake struggled with wanting to harden him up. Life would only get more difficult and harsh, and Tucker needed to be tough. Yet, he loved the innocence in his son’s eyes as he stared up at him with adoration. Blake hoped his weakness for the boy wouldn’t put him in danger later on in life.
“Tilt your elbow more. Pull back all the way until your thumb can hook on your jaw. There. Now shoot.”
Tucker released the arrow, and not only did it pierce the bullseye again, but it buried itself to the shaft. The boy had talent, but could he hit a moving target? Could he kill? It took more grit than most realized to kill. It took a hardened heart, and each life, animal or human, cost a piece of you.
Even with the pressure of their survival on his shoulders, Blake could not stop the smile when his boy squealed his
triumph. He should quiet him in fear of others hearing, but he just couldn’t crush the joy in his son’s eyes. Not yet. Let him enjoy his childhood a little longer. Hopefully, there would be time before he saw that zest for life destroyed.
While Tucker reenacted his triumph over and over, Blake struggled over their position. For now, they seemed safe enough. Marauders hadn’t bothered them since they left the bunker. In fact, the world seemed void of other human life. He knew that wasn’t the case. There would be other survivors, and grizzly ones at that. For now, they had sanctuary and he would use it to his advantage.
The issue at hand was food. Their well still worked. The solar panels still supplied the energy needed for the pump. He knew one day that would fail and more than likely he would not have the correct part to fix it. That was a problem for another day, though. Right now, he needed to hunt, and he needed to test his son’s readiness.
He hated to leave Kris for too long. The way she acted, the baby could come at any time. If he left her, what would happen? She couldn’t birth the baby alone, could she?
As soon as Blake sanctioned a trip to the house, Kris had found the old, tattered birthing book she had dissected while pregnant with Tucker. Every night after Tucker had fallen asleep, he would ask her to tell him a bit more about it. He needed to know what to do. Fear propelled him forward.
“That’s enough practice for today, Champ. You’re a great shot on the target. Ready to see what you can do for real?”
Tucker visibly swallowed, but he pushed a smile to his lips. “I can’t wait!”
Blake pushed back all the other fears and knelt on a knee in front of his son. “Killing isn’t easy, Tuck. This is for our survival. Without meat, we can’t live. We’re doing this for your mom and for us.”
“And for my baby sister.”
Blake nodded. He had no doubt now that his son could see certain parts of the future. Part of him quelled the desire to ask him what to expect so he could prepare, and the other part wanted to dismiss the whole idea and pretend the gift didn’t exist. At least here, alone, he could protect him.
As always, he scanned the area. He was acutely aware at all times of any movement, whether it be the wind, a squirrel, a bird, or whatever. Watching his son skip up the hill to his mom, he realized he needed to instill that capability in Tucker as well. Blake needed to teach him to keep constant vigilance of his surroundings, never turn his back to another, and always be ready for an attack...from anyone.
How did you teach a child to be wary of everyone, even friends?
~2~
Kris paced the living room. She knew she should be resting, but as comfortable as the recliner looked, the anxiety coursing through her wouldn’t let her sit still. Blake had left with Tucker early that morning promising to return a little after noon. Though they didn’t power the clocks in the house, she knew they were late because the sun had started sinking behind the trees an hour ago.
Life had been too easy with the use of cell phones. She had gotten accustomed to checking on Tucker whenever she wanted, not that he was away from her all that often. A few playdates here and there and, of course, school, but she always had been there on campus. Knowing she could run into his classroom at any time had set her heart at ease.
What she wouldn’t give to have a cell phone now.
The radio she clutched like a lifeline crackled in her hand. She rushed it to her ear, trying to make out anything besides the static.
“Blake, Tucker, was that you?”
Nothing. She waited, counting her heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
“We’re here, Mommy. Just got back on the property.”
“Thank goodness,” she sighed into the walkie-talkie.
“See you in a few. Miss you.”
“Miss you, too, Sweetie. So glad you’re okay.”
Kris finally lowered herself into the chair, hung her head, and allowed the sobs to release from her. They were okay. Tucker was safe. Her arms circled her stomach as she breathed slow and deep. Their footsteps creaked up the deck, urging her to wipe away her tears and calm herself.
“Mommy!” Tucker ran to her, throwing his arms around her. “Oh, sorry, sister.” He moved back and laid a hand on her stomach. “She’s really active right now, isn’t she?”
“She’s excited to hear her brother’s voice.” Kris soaked in the sight of his beautiful face.
Tucker smiled and kissed her belly. “Soon you’ll be able to see, my little sister.”
“Not too soon,” Blake said as he entered the house, his presence overwhelming as always.
“Not too soon,” Kris echoed. She took her son’s hand. “So, how did your first hunting trip go?”
His bottom lip trembled a moment before he pushed forth a smile. “I got a deer.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I wounded him, so we had to chase him clear across the forest until we got to the creek.”
“Oh, no,” Kris said as she squeezed his hand.
“We got him in the end, though, and ended his suffering. Dad carried him all the way back...after he...gutted him.” Tucker looked down, hiding his eyes.
Kris shot a glance up at Blake, whose eyes had hardened.
“It’s what we have to do to survive. It’s not an easy lesson, but he did well.” He reached over and squeezed Tucker’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Champ.”
Tucker nodded. “Can I go play with my toys?”
“Absolutely—” Kris started to respond.
“We need to dress the deer and...” Blake cut in.
Kris stood up cumbersomely and put a hand on Blake’s arm. He looked down at her, a fire blazing in his green eyes, but he nodded. “You can learn that part on the next one.”
Tucker sped from the room as if he feared his dad would change his mind.
“Thank you. He has reached his limit. I’m not sure how he is still holding it together,” Kris whispered, her eyes lingering to where her son had disappeared.
“He’s learning to be a man.”
“He shouldn’t have to learn that yet. He’s only six.”
“You can keep saying only for every age, Kris. It doesn’t change the fact that these are skills he has to learn in order to survive. Life is not guaranteed. If something happens to you...to us...he needs to know how to take care of himself.”
Kris lowered her head as Blake spun on his heel and strode out the door. His angry words spoke loudly of his own fear As much as she wanted her young son to be able to enjoy his childhood, she knew he had to learn these skills, too.
They had to find a balance.
~*~
Blake growled as he shoved the tip of the knife into the deer. They had gutted him where they finally found him, but he needed to skin it and start smoking the meat so it would keep. Night was closing in and that would be the best time to cook the meat so the smoke couldn’t be seen.
He didn’t want his son to have to miss out on his childhood, either, but Kris fighting him at every turn made his job that much more difficult. The boy had to learn, plain and simple. He had cried when he shot the deer and sobbed when he realized he had only wounded the animal.
His tears had torn at Blake’s heart. Yet, rather than coddle Tucker, he spoke matter-of-factly. It’s part of survival, son. You take the life of the deer to give life to yourself and your family. His boy had nodded and sniffed back his sobs, but Tucker had been silent the whole hike back. Blake did his best to congratulate him and encourage him, yet it had probably reached deaf ears.
In truth, despite the emotional reaction, Blake was proud of his son. At six years old the kid had shot his first deer, a moving, living target. It really had been Blake’s fault the deer only had been wounded. Blake should have known the boy’s bow didn’t have the power for a kill shot on an animal that large. He should have been prepared to take down the deer in case something like that happened.
He yanked on the deer’s hide. Why hadn’t he started the boy off with a rabbi
t or a squirrel? Something he could for sure kill?
Being a constantly present dad was harder than he had ever thought. Every decision he made affected his son and his way of thinking. Push him too far, and he would pull away. Don’t push him enough, and he might not survive.
Kris coddled the boy, and he feared Tucker wouldn’t have the strength to pull through and do the tough things needed to survive. He didn’t know if Kris could, either. The responsibility lay heavy on him. He had to ensure they could. Taking them on all the hunts wasn’t a possibility, and he had to hunt in order for them all to stay alive.
He had to push, even if it did distance them from him. They needed to know how to take care of themselves for periods of time at least. Yet fear raced through him. What if someone showed up on the property when he was hunting?
Tomorrow he would put them through a few scenarios, run some more drills, and work on some moving targets for practice.
~*~
Tucker crawled into bed with Kris later that night. After Tucker had healed from being sick months ago, Blake had insisted their son sleep in the hammock and not in their bed. Kris missed having her son with her where she could reach over in the middle of the night to assure herself that he was safe and breathing.
The compromise, though, was fair. Tucker took to the idea, happy that he didn’t have to be in a room by himself. As her belly grew, she realized the separation was needed. Having a wayward foot kick her in the stomach during sleep could cause all sorts of problems.
Though tonight, she didn’t resist him as he crawled under the covers with her. Blake softly snored on the other side of the bed as she wrapped her arms around their son. She didn’t want to upset her husband, but her son needed extra nurturing tonight as he was being forced to mature so quickly.
Tucker hadn’t talked anymore about the hunt, and she wouldn’t push him. Doing something that needed to be done but didn’t feel right was sometimes better left to the recesses of the mind. So, she would just hold him and whisper her love to him as he drifted into troubled sleep.
Grant Us Mercy (Book 3): Grant Us Mercy Page 1