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Grant Us Mercy (Book 3): Grant Us Mercy

Page 4

by Little, D. C.


  “That would be preferred.” All of a sudden she realized the implication of all of this. Her husband wouldn’t be with them at night and possibly longer.

  “We need the meat, Kris. I don’t like this idea, either, but we’re out of options.”

  “I...I can shoot another with my bow, Dad.” Tucker stood tall, puffing out his chest and sucking in his lower lip.

  “I’m happy to hear you say that, Champ. Can I tell you something?”

  Tucker nodded.

  “I should have said something before. I’m sorry. That bow of yours just isn’t strong enough for a deer. The last hunt proved that. It had nothing to do with your skill, just the strength of your bow.”

  “I can use Mommy’s,” Tucker offered.

  “Eventually, yes. Right now, though, your arms just aren’t long enough. Maybe by next year.”

  Tucker looked at his arms. “Maybe when I’m seven.”

  “Maybe then.”

  “You’re going to be seven in a couple months, Sweetie.”

  “Really? My birthday is coming?”

  Kris nodded before the pain of another cramp rippled through her. She squeezed her eyes shut. When the pain passed, she opened them to find both her boys staring at her.

  “Maybe my sister will be my birthday present!”

  “That would be a wonderful gift,” she said, thinking that if she waited that long it would be a gift.

  “Tuck, why don’t you go and see what kind of food we have that will travel well.”

  “I can do that,” he said as he ran off to the task.

  “Kris,” her husband said in a voice that she knew she couldn’t ignore. “You have to be honest with me.”

  She looked him square in the eye, though she still did her best to hide her own fear.

  “Will the baby come soon? Do I need to stay?”

  “I don’t want you to go, but no, I don’t think birth will happen in the next week.” She shrugged. In truth she had no idea when true labor would start.

  “They’re progressing.”

  “As they have for the past month. If I rest, they dissipate.” She bit her lip. She wanted to tell him that he needed to stay, but she knew he would be like a wild animal if he did, especially if nothing happened. Which she did believe wouldn’t...she hoped.

  “This meat is important. We need to keep as many of those rations as we can in case...in case things get worse.”

  “Worse?”

  Blake shrugged.

  Kris knew she wasn’t the only one hiding fears.

  ~*~

  Blake turned for one last look at his family standing on the deck of their house. An unnerving feeling filled him, causing his hands to shake and gut to gurgle. Every part of him was torn, battling with the need to go and fear of leaving them alone.

  He hadn’t been away from them in close to a year. At times, he almost went insane with the constant presence and chatter, but being with them meant he knew they were safe. It meant he could protect them.

  “Promise me you’ll go to the bunker if anything feels off,” he had asked them. “And in the evening before dark.”

  They had promised, and from the look in his wife’s eyes, he didn’t doubt she would. He half wanted them to just stay in the bunker the entire time. Yet, food had to be collected and the gardens watered. Work still had to go on.

  For probably the thousandth time, he chastised himself for getting injured.

  “We always come back to each other!” he shouted.

  Their response echoed to him, a sweet harmony that would carry him through. He lifted his arm in farewell and then headed into the forest. Luckily, the fire hadn’t made it past his property so the forest and meadows beyond were still green and full of life.

  The creek meandering through the meadow had still been running when he and Tucker had hunted a few weeks ago. He hoped it still did. It was far enough away from his property to not attract attention to them in case there were people near enough to hear.

  It had been strange when Marvin’s group had left at the beginning of winter. They hadn’t seen another person since. A strange pull tugged at his heart, but he shook his head. People only brought danger. Yet he wondered where that little group went and, once again, wondered if Hannah’s dad, Arland, had taken his advice and if they had made it through the winter.

  If he was lucky, no one would find their little oasis and they could live out the rest of their lives secluded on their property. Unless order was restored.

  Twenty-year rations. That’s what they had filled the officials’ bunkers with. Twenty years. Would they really stay that long?

  A deep curiosity filled him as he wondered what state the country was in. That solar storm must have been huge for the aurora to appear this far south. Had it cut power for the whole country? The whole world?

  The thoughts drove him mad as he stomped through the pine needles and fallen cones. He kicked one of the pine cones, startling a squirrel who scampered away to scold him from the safety of a tree. It reminded him that he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. He growled while readjusting his pack and continued on.

  Yet, once again he lost himself to ponderings. This time, he found himself corralled by a thicket of brush. Angry at his lack of attention, he just pushed through the bushes. The action caused a stirring to his right.

  Blake froze as three deer sprang from the brush. Without thought, he raised his rifle and let out a shot at the largest buck, a two-prong. The shot echoed, reminding him too late he wasn’t far enough from his house.

  He swore and then swore again when he realized he had missed the deer. Great. Now they would know he was here, and it would be more difficult to find deer near the meadow. Blake crashed through the bushes, his frustration violent as he left behind destruction.

  ~*~

  Kris had hardly slept. The bunker had been eerily silent and empty without Blake. Tucker acted nervous and silent. It played on her own nerves, which were frazzled already. The baby even moved more actively. Every time she awoke, sensing Blake’s absence, she would hope and pray that she would hear the echo of his steps down the ladder and the pounding of their secret knock on the door.

  It remained silent, and finally she couldn’t stand just lying in bed any longer. She pulled her arm from where Tucker pinned it beneath him. Blake might be upset that she allowed him to sleep with her, but it had brought them both comfort. She missed sleeping next to him, being able to reach over and feel his chest rise and fall, reassuring herself that even if the world had collapsed, she still had her son.

  Blake will be back today, she told herself as she started a pot of water for coffee...coffee she didn’t drink. Well, she’d make herself some tea. She searched through the cupboards, the feat becoming quite challenging as of late.

  “What are you looking for, Mommy?” Tucker sat up and rubbed his eyes.

  “Some tea,” she said, pushing herself back up to stand.

  “I’ll find it for you.” He jumped out of bed and padded over to her. “What kind do you want?”

  “I was thinking chamomile.” She watched her son, amazed at how he and his dad could just wake up running.

  “Are you stressed?” he asked.

  “You’ve learned a lot from that herb book, haven’t you?” She loved the fact that he wanted to read books that would serve his survival.

  He shrugged and scourged around the cupboard for less than a minute before he produced the tin of chamomile.

  “Thanks, Sweetie.”

  “Of course.” He stopped and looked at her, then rested his hands on her belly. “How’s my sister?”

  “Super active.”

  “Maybe she misses Dad, too.”

  “Maybe, Sweetie.” She kissed the top of his head and let him go. He tugged out the herbal book and snuggled back on the bed.

  They took their time getting through the morning routine and leaving the bunker. Part of her wanted to just stay within the security of its walls. T
he other part feared that she had even had that thought. As always, leaving the bunker and breathing in the fresh air settled her nerves, yet something still felt amiss.

  “What’s the matter, Mommy?” Tucker came up behind her.

  “I’m not sure. Just have a weird feeling.” She shrugged and smiled at her son. He didn’t need anything extra to worry about.

  “Probably because Daddy isn’t here. He’s been with us this entire time.”

  “It’s been nice, huh, Sweetie?”

  “Yeah. Though I do miss it being just you and me sometimes.”

  She squatted in front of him, no easy task with her large belly. “We will always have that special bond.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, clinging as if his whole world had crumbled as it had. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to get over it, either.

  She strapped the surveillance remote back to her belt and pushed herself up again. “Well, shall we do some more canning?”

  “Canning, canning, canning.” Tucker stuck his tongue out.

  Kris knew that this new way of life took a lot out of her six-year-old. It broke her heart. “I have an idea.”

  Tucker stopped to listen.

  “How about we just play in your room for a bit?”

  “Like old times?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay!” He gripped her hand and pulled her toward the house.

  She laughed, enjoying the feel of it bubbling up from her chest. Something stirred on the wind. She stopped to smell the light breeze. Fire. Like the smoke from a campfire. Was Blake camped downwind?

  “Come on, Mommy!” Tucker tugged on her.

  She shook her head. Her sense of smell had increased like crazy with this pregnancy. Maybe it had become a bit overzealous and imaginative, too.

  ~*~

  Blake hadn’t expected to sleep out overnight. If he hadn’t allowed himself to be distracted, he wouldn’t have had to. He couldn’t go back without a deer. He piled up a bed of pine needles in a grove of trees. The warm night air enveloped him like a blanket.

  As much as he wished he were with his family, sleeping under the stars with a canopy of trees surrounding him brought a sense of peace over him. It had been a long time since he had been able to sleep in the forest.

  His family was safe in the bunker probably hours before now. Knowing they had that safety allowed him to settle into the deep bed of needles. His body relaxed as the day’s disappointment slipped away and he fell into a restful sleep.

  ~*~

  “No, Mr. Dinosaur! Don’t eat me,” Kris said, contorting her voice while she moved a tiny plastic bug on the carpet.

  “I’m hungry! I need to survive. Yum, yum, yum.” Tucker pretended the dinosaur he had tried to eat the bug but kept missing. “Hey, get back here, little bug.”

  They laughed while Tucker and the dinosaur chased Kris and the bug around.

  Beep. Beep. The surveillance remote interrupted their playing.

  Kris and Tucker froze, eyes wide. Kris’s heart hammered.

  “Maybe it’s just Daddy coming back over the property line?” Tucker asked.

  “Let’s see.” She looked at the remote and saw that sector five had been breached.

  “That’s the front gate. Why would Daddy be coming back that way?” Tucker said after he peeked at the remote.

  The frantic beat of Kris’s heart made it difficult to breathe. She picked up the walkie-talkie.

  “Blake. We have a breach in sector five. Do you read?”

  Only silence answered her.

  She ran to Tucker’s window where she could see their long driveway.

  “Mommy?” Tucker’s voice quivered as he pulled on her arm.

  Nothing moved outside the window. She glanced down at her son, who had his bow in his trembling hands.

  “It’ll be okay, Sweetie. Let’s go ahead and get into the bunker. Just to be safe.” She grasped the cold metal of the shotgun and led Tucker to the door. “I’ll take one more peek. Then we will practice our ninja moves to get to the bunker. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Tucker whispered.

  Kris pushed a smile forth for his sake and then cracked the door open. She saw nothing, so she opened it wider and looked back to give Tucker the signal. Before she did, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

  She quickly refocused on the long driveway. A man stood there, rifle in hand, seemingly staring straight at her. With the distance between them, she wasn’t sure whether or not he could see her in the crack of the doorway.

  She quickly and quietly closed the door and locked it.

  Flattening her body against the door, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as if just her will would push the scene she saw out of her head. Her mind swirled with all the scenarios Blake had run them through. First, if at all possible, make it to the bunker.

  The back door.

  She grabbed Tucker’s arm and raced to the door leading to their deck and the back of their property. At the door, she glanced down at her wide-eyed son and placed her finger on her lips.

  He nodded, grasping her hand tighter.

  She set the gun down long enough to ease the door open and then immediately grabbed the cold steel again. They ninja-walked down the deck toward the back entrance of the bunker. Before they rounded the last corner of the house, she motioned Tucker to stay as she peeked toward the driveway.

  With a gasp, she threw herself against the rough wall of the house, her heart hammering so fast she thought she might faint.

  Instead of the one man, a group of more than a dozen armed men slowly moved toward her and her son.

  ~5~

  Blake watched the meadow, looking for any movement. Sweat rolled down his back from the heat of the summer sun. Another wave of nervous energy showered him. He kept vigil on all sides, trying to decipher where the feeling came from.

  Something was about to happen, the instinct fired within him.

  The area was clear. Just birds and squirrels doing their happy chattering and singing. Nothing seemed amiss, but the hair on the back of his neck prickled.

  He wiped the sweat beading on his brow. He had run out of luck. Maybe he should just get home. If he left soon, he would be able to make it before Tucker’s bedtime. A tingle of fear pricked his skin again. Yes, he should go home. He should never have left his family there without him.

  Just as he stretched his leg out to rise from his brush cover, a movement to his left caught his attention. It was only a small flicker of an ear, but he saw it. The deer watched warily, turning its ears this way and that before taking a tentative step from the bush he hid behind.

  Blake held his breath. Only a few more steps and he would have a clear shot. Carefully, soundlessly, he raised the rifle and set the sights on the deer. A fly landed on his finger, but he ignored it, concentrating only on his sights lining up for the kill.

  Adrenaline surged through him as it always did while hunting. It wasn’t that he enjoyed killing the animal but the challenge of hitting his target. Besides, his family needed this food and the other supplies the kill would offer.

  The hide would have to be used for baby clothes. The few items Kris had saved from Tucker for memories wouldn’t be enough.

  One more step. Blake blew the air out from his lungs in a slow controlled manner and then sucked some more in to hold it. His finger tightened, squeezing the trigger. The resounding boom of his rifle echoed across the valley. Flocks of birds flew from the tops of the pines and firs.

  The deer fell.

  A sigh of relief came out with Blake’s exhale—a clean shot.

  With a furtive look around, he rose, keeping aware of all his surroundings. He would drag the deer back behind the brush to gut it. The more concealed location would allow him to focus on his task instead of worrying about being a sitting duck in the open meadow.

  He rotated his shoulder as he warily made his way to the fallen deer. Would it be up to the task of cleaning the deer? He clenched his t
eeth. It would have to be.

  ~*~

  Kris squeezed her eyes shut and calmed her breathing. Panic causes your mind to shut down. You need a clear head to stay alive...to keep your son alive.

  She inched her way back around the house to where Tucker stood, drawing in the dirt with an arrow.

  “Is it cl—”

  Kris slipped a hand gently over his mouth. Once his wide eyes met hers, she placed a finger on her lips and slowly took her hand off of him. Using the signs that Blake had taught them during the months in the bunker, she signaled that a group of armed men approached. Then she motioned to the back door and made the signal for a silent approach.

  Every sound their steps created sounded like explosions to her. She kept her mind focused on her task and off running scenarios. You must stay calm. Keep breathing.

  Tucker squeezed into the house, and her heart began to ease slightly. After silently shutting and locking the door, she slipped low under the windows to Tucker’s bedroom, where she peeked through a crack in the curtain.

  The group almost had made it to their house. There were more than a dozen. Mostly men, and a few women. Their clothes were tattered and dirty. They turned their heads constantly as if they feared being attacked. Maybe feared wasn’t the word—prepared.

  She couldn’t see their faces yet, but it didn’t look like the group with Martin. This was a new group, better armed and more prepared.

  Tucker stood by her, readying his bow. “I’ll protect you, Mommy.”

  She lowered to her knees and put her hands on the sides of his cheeks. “I love you, Sweetie. More than anything in this world. You want to know the best way to protect me? Hide in the closet hole.”

  “But Mommy!” he whispered frantically.

  “We can’t make it to the bunker. There’s only enough space for you in the hole. If I don’t have to worry about you getting hurt, I can keep myself safe.”

  “Mommy...” Tucker’s lower lip trembled as he threw his arms around her.

  “I need you to be brave, Sweetie. I need you to crawl into that hole, stay silent, and don’t come out until I come get you.” A small flash of fear shot through her. What if she didn’t make it?

 

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