Grant Us Mercy (Book 3): Grant Us Mercy

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Grant Us Mercy (Book 3): Grant Us Mercy Page 10

by Little, D. C.


  He continued his story while Mercy looked as if she actually listened to every word Tucker uttered, cooing in response and reaching for the tree again. When Tucker finished his story and took off after a squirrel that ran past them, Mercy whimpered.

  “Okay, it’s feeding time. Best to have a full belly when we meet everyone.” Kris reached for their daughter.

  Blake grudgingly let her go. As Kris nursed Mercy, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Laurie had brought the herbs to help Kris produce enough milk. Once again, the gal had impeccable timing. Kris’s milk didn’t start producing as much as it had with Tucker. They didn’t have any formula, and worried how they would keep their miraculous daughter alive if Kris’s milk had dried up completely.

  As much as he didn’t want to be here, Blake knew they needed to pay their respects to the two people who had allowed his family a chance at being all together. He just didn’t like the whole scenario.

  “Tucker,” he called the boy over. They needed to go over protocol before they stepped into the camp.

  “Ugh, I almost had him.” Tucker kicked at the pine needles on the ground as stuffed his sling back into his pouch and joined them.

  Blake handed him a piece of deer jerky and some water. Kris chewed on hers while sitting against the rock and nursing their daughter.

  “Okay, let’s go over protocol again.” Blake looked pointedly at both Tucker and Kris.

  He knew it annoyed his wife, but she smiled in a way that made him know she would go through the motions for him. Tucker sat forward eager to show how much he had learned. Blake was relieved the kid liked running scenarios so much.

  “Always keep your eyes open. Never turn your back on anyone, even if they say they’re a friend.” Tucker looked off into the distance, a sign that he struggled to remember what else to say. “If something goes down, first try to find Mom or Dad. If I can’t, escape to the rendezvous point. Where is the rendezvous point?”

  Blake looked around. “How about here? What would your point of references be?”

  Tucker stood up, stuffing the last of his jerky in his mouth. He scanned the entire area for a minute and then turned back to his dad.

  “The rock pile,” he said.

  “Great, but from a great distance you won’t be able to see that marker.” Blake folded his arms. They had played this game many times in the last several months, and by the glint in his son’s eyes, he knew he had more to say.

  “That’s why those two dead pines on each side of that large cedar will be my other reference points.” Tucker stuck his little chest out.

  “That’s right, Champ.” Blake couldn’t have been more proud.

  “Which direction is the camp?” Kris asked.

  Blake cocked his head and decided to challenge her. “Northwest.”

  Kris smirked, she craned her neck to look around, and then met his gaze. “So, we will be crossing that little creek and then heading up that rise.”

  “I’m impressed,” Blake said with a small chuckle.

  The pride that shone in Kris’s eyes, almost made this whole trip worth it.

  “We forgot one thing,” Tucker said.

  “What’s that?” Blake asked.

  “We don’t give up our assets.”

  “Very true. Do you know what that means?” Blake asked watching Kris tuck Mercy back into her wrap. He rose, as did Tucker, and they all walked to their packs. Blake respected the seamless way they all worked together.

  “Yes. We don’t tell people what we have, where we live, how we live, or anything that could be used against us.” Tucker tightened up his straps and slung his bow over his shoulder.

  “I’m very proud of you, Tuck. You know one more thing you should focus on?” Kris asked him, as she bent down to kiss his forehead. “Having fun.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He smiled, but Blake could see the hesitation in his eyes, a look that mirrored his own misgivings.

  “We’ll probably run into the guards in a quarter mile. I’m thinking I should scout ahead and let them know we’re coming. I don’t want someone to make a poor decision.”

  “I’m sure they are expecting us, but you do what you need to.” Kris blew him a kiss.

  “I won’t be that far ahead of you.”

  “I have my whistle, Dad.”

  “That makes me feel better. Thanks, Champ.” He ruffled his hair. “Take care of Mom and your sister.”

  “Always. And we always return to each other.”

  “We always return to each other,” Blake said along with Kris.

  He waved farewell before he started at a jog up through the forest. He didn’t worry about them so close behind him, he just didn’t want one of the guards to get carried away and take a shot before they knew who they were.

  Even with his heavy pack, he made good time. From where he stood, he could smell the campfire smoke and hear a murmur of voices. A shuffling to right made him sneak in behind the large fir he stood next to. He watched the guard walk towards him, scanning the area.

  When he was close enough, Blake instantly recognized the man named David. Seeing that the guard was the one who he had held a knife to his throat back on his property made Blake grateful that he had the forethought to come ahead. Who knows what kind of angry feelings the man had for him?

  He had planned on just stepping out and making himself known, but with David, he couldn’t help but see if the man had learned anything. Besides, he didn’t feel safe just stepping out into the open with him. His reaction was unpredictable. Blake slipped off his pack, soundlessly set it down, and then snuck out from behind the tree.

  He stood right behind the guy, a smirk covered his lips. The guy hadn’t learned a thing.

  Then David turned abruptly, catching Blake a little off guard. Blake ducked just as a long knife sliced at where his head had been.

  Blake smiled, reached down and grabbed for David’s leg. David twisted at the last second, leaving Blake rolling and landing on his on his haunches. He looked up to see David posed for attack as well.

  David smiled and nodded.

  Blake stood with a chuckle. He had missed training with a true competitor. “You’ve learned a lot, David.”

  David stood and reached a hand down to Blake. “I was given quite the motivation.” He looked around, scanning the forest. “Where’s the family?”

  “Coming up behind. I wanted to make sure you knew it was us coming.”

  “We have been expecting you. The whole camp is excited to meet The Survivalist and his family.” David slapped him on the back and looked in the direction of the camp. He motioned for Blake to follow him. “I know how you are. Right up here is a good vantage point to see the layout of the camp.”

  Blake watched him. It felt odd to feel a comradery with someone again. He didn’t quite trust David, or the feeling, but he smiled in order to keep up appearances.

  At the viewpoint, Blake stopped abruptly. The camp was much larger and more organized than he had anticipated. He had expected some worn out tents haphazardly thrown together and several fires spread out among a big open area. Instead, he saw a few tents, but mostly bark shelters spaced out around a large central fire. Around the dwellings were small piles that looked like the beginnings of barriers.

  Blake nodded, scratching at his chin.

  “Impressive, huh? We have really come together.” David turned to watch Blake. “Of course, there is always more to learn.”

  People milled about the encampment. Children ran and laughed. Some people were at the fire, cooking something that smelled delicious. A group of women sat, busy with something that looked like basket making. A few men stood at the edge of camp practicing archery.

  From out here, it looked like a peaceful situation. Blake couldn’t believe it though. There had to be underling contention, something that made living like this unsafe. He couldn’t see it from here, but if his training taught him anything, it was there.

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  ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

  DC Little writes what she loves, incorporating survival techniques within action-packed natural disaster stories. The Sierra Nevada Mountains are her playground, both for adventure and scheming up new plots.

  If DC is not attached to her computer typing out her latest novel, then you will probably find her on some sort of adventure with her husband and son. Whether white-water kayaking, backcountry skiing, dirt bike riding, or finding the next bug-out hidden oasis, she feels most at home in the trees and granite wonderlands of her home county.

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