Kris, though, couldn’t fall back asleep. Her mind kept going over scenarios, trying to visualize what their life would be like from here on out. If her baby was a girl like Tucker foresaw, would she grow up rough like this? Would Blake also have her hunting at six? What would happen as her children grew older and wanted to find someone to live their life with?
The questions wouldn’t stop. They wouldn’t let her sleep, and the baby within her rolled around and kicked as if she, too, was unsettled. Tucker finally slept soundly. She hated to disturb him, but she needed to move. Carefully, she scooched out from under him, settling him back in place as she crawled out of bed.
After a few moans and shifting, the boy continued to sleep, his snore a slight echo of his father’s. At times like these, she was glad that Blake had insisted they sleep in the bunker. The bathrooms didn’t work in the house anymore, so she would have had to go outside. As the baby grew, she had to take more nightly trips.
Out of habit, she tiptoed over to the surveillance cameras just to ensure all was well. She couldn’t see much normally, but tonight the moon glowed brightly, casting shadows that loomed across their property.
Blake had positioned one of the cameras on the smoker. He had played with the idea of sleeping out to protect their meat, but he had ended up crawling into bed late that night. Kris understood. The bed called to her as well. She yawned and started to walk back to snuggle into that very bed when movement on one of the screens caught her attention.
She froze. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. The shadow moved, circling the smoker.
“Blake,” she whispered, not wanting to wake Tucker. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from the screen. The shadow didn’t move like a human, but it looked big. Could it just be the angle? Maybe a raccoon whose shadow stretched along the ground from the low moon?
“Blake,” she tried again.
Then the shadow rose to stand on two feet, its long nose sniffing the air. Bear.
“Blake,” she yelled.
“Mommy?” Tucker called out.
“What’s going on?” Blake finally bellowed.
“A bear’s after the meat.”
Blake shot out of bed and was by her side in an instant. It didn’t take Tucker long to scramble up beside him.
“I’ll be...” Blake muttered before striding to his clothes and shoving his legs into his pants. “Tuck, grab my shotgun and make sure it’s loaded.”
“Blake,” Kris warned. No way would he take Tucker out there to face a bear.
“I just need his help to prepare. He’s staying inside.” Blake had read her mind.
Her lips thinned, unsure if she should be angry at him for assuming correctly or thankful that he didn’t push the issue. For once, Tucker didn’t argue about being left behind.
“You going to kill him, Dad?” he asked while loading shotgun shells into the gun.
“If I can,” Blake stated without emotion. “Bears have good fat and a warm coat that will be needed come winter.”
“We have blankets, Dad.”
Blake took the gun from Tucker. “Those blankets will become threadbare eventually. A bear’s coat will keep longer and work better.” He roughed up his son’s hair. “It’s hard to transition to this way of thinking, Champ. Just try to trust me for now.”
“I do, Dad. I do trust you.”
“Thank you,” Blake said, and bent down to kiss his son’s head. He kissed Kris’s cheek as he glanced at the screen again. “Just watch in case I need help for some reason.”
“Maybe you should just let the bear be.” Tucker pulled on his sleeve.
“I can’t. He’ll eat the deer you hunted. We need that meat.”
“Watch your back then.”
“I will.”
Kris watched her husband leave, armed and ready for battle once again. Would she ever get used to him disappearing into dangerous situations? A shiver ran down her spine while she refocused on the camera screens. She didn’t think she would ever get used to him putting his life at risk.
~*~
Blake couldn’t help but wonder if his son saw something he didn’t want to express. The thought sent a chill down his spine.
In fact, that warning kept him turning around and jumping at every slight breeze as soon as he exited the bunker. Getting to the smoker near the back of the house meant crossing the stretch of open land between the forest and there. The shadows on the camera couldn’t tell him much. Having no idea of what he was stepping into sent a rush of adrenaline through him.
Blake couldn’t say he looked forward to facing the bear. Hunting never had been a pleasure for him, and he had respect for the massive creatures. Yet, he couldn’t have the animal taking their meat. They needed that meat to help them get through winter.
Kris always reminded him they had plenty of packaged food left, but they needed to extend that life for as long as possible just in case things became worse. No, he needed this bear. With that meat, he wouldn’t have to worry about winter any longer.
Now focused, Blake silently stepped toward the smoker, where he heard the bear grunting and nosing around. Bears were scavengers. They would find the easiest food possible, and what could be more tantalizing than a smoking deer?
Once Blake was in range, he raised the gun, leveling it on the bear. The massive animal stood and sniffed the air, like it knew Blake was there waiting to steal its life. Blake stared down the beady eyes that reflected the moonlight. He had the perfect shot, and yet he couldn’t pull the trigger.
It was only a youngster. The not quite full-grown bear was still large, but its mannerisms and fuller face gave it away. Had the bear just been kicked out of the cave by its mom? Blake couldn’t help but think of Tucker while he watched the animal sniff the air once more and turn away.
Blake focused the gun again. He needed this bear, young or not. He blew his breath out, his heart pounding with indecision.
That hesitation could have cost him everything. Just as Tucker’s words echoed in his mind, a tingling warning shot through Blake. He shifted just in time to avoid the full attack of the mama bear lunging toward him. The move saved his life, but the bear caught him in the shoulder, searing claws biting into his flesh.
Blake rolled over just in time to fend off the large mama bear with the shotgun. Blocking another swipe with the barrel, he pulled himself back, sliding in the dirt. He needed to create enough distance to aim the gun into the bear.
Yet the bear rushed at him again, pounding him down with its front feet bouncing off Blake’s chest like it was a trampoline. The air shot out of his lungs. On the second bounce, he heard the sickening crack of his ribs. Was this it? Was he really going to leave his family stranded because of a crazy bear?
Blake grit his teeth. While the bear reared up again, he scrambled away, fighting for purchase on the ground. The bear humphed and prepared for another charge as Blake fumbled with the shotgun. What he wouldn’t give for his pistol right now.
Then he heard the shot. His pistol.
The bear heard it, too. She raised up on her back feet and turned toward the sound.
“Rrahhh!” Tucker yelled.
Blake shifted and saw his son running fearlessly toward the bear, releasing his arrows as he sped toward it. The sight left Blake even more breathless.
Kris ran alongside, shooting his pistol, eyes wild and belly bouncing.
She shouldn’t be running. The whole thing distracted the bear from him as she swiped at the arrows that barely nicked her hide. It distracted Blake, too. By the time he got his wits about him, the bear had turned and loped down the hill along with her large cub.
Tucker cheered, pumping his fist into the air. Kris smiled, but then her face fell as she met Blake’s eyes. She made it to his side, searching his body, gasping when she saw the wounds on his shoulder.
~*~
Elation at having run off the bear only lasted a moment. Blake had been injured. Blood oozed out of angry slashes on his upper arm. With the
way he held his arm across his chest and breathed shallowly, she feared his ribs had been broken, too.
She had been watching the screens with baited breath. When she saw the bear lunge toward him, she grabbed the pistol and came running. She had told Tucker to stay in the bunker. Yet, there was no stopping the boy, who quickly passed her lumbering jog, his bow in hand and arrows flying as soon as they were close enough to see the bear.
Having someone you love in trouble brought out the deepest courage a person had. She saw it in herself and her son. They weren’t going to let that bear take Blake from them.
“What were you two thinking?” Blake rasped out, but he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“We saved you, Daddy.” Tucker raced over to him. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” He grunted as he rolled over onto his knees and slowly stood up.
“You don’t look fine.” Kris took his uninjured arm. The weight of him overpowered her. Relief washed through her that he could walk on his own. Otherwise, they would all be camping out here tonight.
“Check the deer meat,” Blake said through his teeth.
Kris dropped his arm, maybe a little forcefully given the growl he gave, and checked on the smoker. It looked undamaged and smelled delicious. She pushed down her irritation at her husband as best she could, but she felt resentment for the lack of appreciation for rescuing him and then being dictated. Sure, his ego had been damaged, but she and Tucker stepped up. That deserved some acknowledgement at the least.
A surge of adrenaline had shot through her as she pulled the trigger on the pistol. She hadn’t aimed it toward the bear, afraid that she would miss and hit Blake instead. Just the act of discharging that bullet, feeling the kick of it in her hands, sent waves of confidence through her. It felt like power.
Holding a weapon that could stop something as massive as a bear gave her a sense of security. She could protect her loved ones, even as small as she was, if she had skill with such a firearm. Sure, she could shoot a bow, but not with the skill her son had and not with the force her husband did. With a gun though...that bear ran.
She still detested the weapons, but she understood the importance of their use now. Once Blake could, she would have him teach her how to use a gun with skill. If she could aim with confidence, she could injure rather than kill.
“Come on,” she said with a new confidence. “We need to get that wound cleaned and stitched up.”
Blake narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t argue. His jaw clenched as he made his way to the bunker.
“If we had shot that bear, we would have had enough meat for winter.” Blake’s words sounded harsh.
Kris knew that he especially meant him, but she couldn’t help the jab, knowing he was also upset that she hadn’t actually shot toward the bear. “You can teach me how to aim, but after you heal.”
Blake stopped, his eyes dark in the shadow of the rocks hiding their bunker entrance. “You liked it, didn’t you?”
Kris pushed her lips into a thin line. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of the smile that wanted to expose her. “Tonight just made me realize the importance of knowing how.”
“Fair enough,” he said, grunting as he lowered to open the bunker door.
“Let me do it, Dad. I know how.” Tucker shot ahead, keyed in the code, and pulled the door up. Quite the feat for a boy his size.
“Thanks, Champ,” Blake grumbled.
They slowly made their way into the depth of the bunker. Right now, it didn’t feel so constraining, but safe from the hazards that lay in wait above ground. Kris shivered. Now safe in their hidden place, she realized just how close she was to losing her husband.
Reality sunk in. It wouldn’t only mean a broken heart and a broken-hearted son, it could mean life or death for her and her children. Without Blake, where would they be?
She pushed the thought down just as she directed Blake to sit. The lights blared to life, giving her all that she needed to see the extent of the wound. She swallowed back her nausea and her fear. The injury was gruesome.
“Tucker, grab the saline solution and the first aid kit, and then you should go put on your headphones and read a book.”
“Why, Mommy? I want to help.” He grabbed the items asked of him and came back to where his dad sat. Tucker gasped and backed away.
Kris came and wrapped her arms around him. “You don’t need to see this, Sweetie. Go distract yourself.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it? Really bad.” Tucker’s voice trembled.
“It will be fine, Champ.” Blake’s words didn’t match his pallor. He handled the pain well, but right now it looked like the slightest breeze would push him over or he’d pass out before it had the chance.
“It’s going to take some work and lots of time. Go read and try to fall asleep.”
Tucker shook his head. He pulled out items from the first aid kit, laying them out like a triage nurse. “We’re a team.”
Kris watched him, reading the stubborn set of his jaw and the determination in his eyes. She nodded. “Yes, we are. Grab some towels.” She turned toward Blake. “Do you want something for the pain? A local at least?”
He shook his head. “We need to keep those for more dire situations.”
“I don’t know if you have seen your arm, but this is pretty dire.”
“After you wash it out with the saline solution, use that antiseptic spray. It will kill off any remaining bacteria and numb it slightly. You need to sterilize everything in the suture kit by boiling it.” He met her eyes. “Can you do this?”
“There’s no choice, so yes.” She wouldn’t tell him her stomach wanted to rid itself of dinner, or every time she thought about having to sew his flesh together the blood would drain from her face, making her feel like she would pass out. Turning away from him so he couldn’t read her eyes, she started water to boil.
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to stitch myself up.” He grunted.
“Great. Well, you can tell me about that while we wash this out then.” She took the towels from Tucker and placed some under his arm and then held some against his arm, under his wound.
“Tucker, if you really want to do this, you can hold the towels here. Neither of us will think less of you if you need to go to the other side of the bunker.”
“I can do this.”
Kris met his eyes and nodded. Her son was turning into a little man. She didn’t know whether to be proud or mourn the loss of his boyhood. Right now, she had to focus on the task at hand. The bear had done a number on Blake. Though it had been only a glancing blow, the claws had dug deep into his flesh.
As she washed away the blood with the saline solution, she was happy to not see any bone though she still wondered if the muscle would heal properly. She was sure that if he were at a real hospital, they would stitch up his muscle and then his skin.
She had no idea how to do that.
The water boiled on the stove. She placed all the suture equipment in a tray and covered them with the boiling water. As they sterilized, she blew out a breath. When everything was ready, she squared her shoulders and spaced her feet wide apart. She would need every advantage to keep herself stable.
“Okay, tell me how to do this. I’m assuming it’s not as easy as stitching up a seam in cloth.”
“No, there’s a bit more to it.” He took in a deep breath and winced, confirming her thought of probable cracked ribs.
“Well, give me your emergency suture 101, and I’ll do my best not to make you look like Frankenstein.”
“Who’s Frankenstein?” Tucker asked.
“He’s not important right now,” Blake said, though he looked as if he tried to smile. “First thing is to thread the curved suture needle. Use the hemostat and don’t touch the tip of the needle.”
“Hemostat?”
“They look like scissors with blunt, grippy ridges instead of sharp edges.”
Kris picked up
the tool, which actually looked more like tweezers to her. “Got them.” Her tongue slipped out of her mouth while she threaded the tiny curved needle. “Okay. Now what?”
“Start in the middle of the wound. You’ll have to push through by piercing the flesh and then turning your wrist. Just one side first, pull through, and then in the opposite side.”
Kris shook out her hands and blew out a breath.
“Are you sure you can do this?”
“I got it,” she bit back. “You can’t do it one-handed. I got it.”
She glanced at Tucker who watched with wide eyes. For once, he was silent. It actually scared her more than anything.
“Hey Tuck, why don’t you talk to your daddy. Help distract him.”
Tuck blinked a few times. “I didn’t know bears attacked humans.”
“They usually don’t, son. In fact, I once heard a report saying that no one had died from a black bear attack for over a hundred years.”
“Then why did that bear attack you?”
“Who knows? Things have changed. Maybe the animals feel that as well. It was a mama bear, too. Moms can get quite protective of their young.”
Kris let them keep talking, but she focused on her job. Piercing her husband’s flesh felt just as sickening as she feared. She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat, closed her eyes, and found the inner strength that she knew she had. This was their new life. She needed to meet it head on. She would do what had to be done to keep her husband here with them. They needed him.
She pushed the needle all the way through and then into the other side. Blake hardly even flinched. She had no idea how he did that. She would have been hysterical, crying and flinching and more.
“Do I continue like sewing or...” she interrupted their conversation about bears’ natural lives.
“No. Each suture is its own separate knot. To make the knot, hold the hemostat parallel above the wound, wrap the line around it twice and then grab the end and pull through.”
She did as instructed and pulled the string tight, watching it tug his flaps of skin together.
Grant Us Mercy (Book 3): Grant Us Mercy Page 2