Grant Us Mercy (Book 1): Grant Us Mercy

by Little, D. C.

  GRANT

  US

  MERCY

  A Post-Apocalyptic Serial Novel:

  Installment ONE

  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, Little 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.

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ~1~

  ~2~

  ~3~

  ~4~

  ~5~

  ~6~

  ~7~

  Join DC’s Reader Team!

  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 editor, Dianne McCleery. Without your guidance and keen eye, my books wouldn’t be near as clean and consistent! And 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 later on in the series.

  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, for understanding how important Mommy’s writing time is and being excited whenever I receive one of my books in the mail.

  ~1~

  DATE: October 10 19:03

  Blake Chantry wiped the sweat from his brow. His knees creaked as he covertly shifted his position behind the bushes. If they caught him, the consequence would be the end of his career and probably his life, not to mention negate the reason for his eavesdropping in the first place. Yet, the threat of death came with every assignment, so steadying his heart rate came easily as he patiently waited.

  The heavy night air felt more like August than October. It clung to him like a cloak as he hid behind a thick stand of manzanita bushes. He wiped at his brow again as he searched the sky for signs of the moon. It shouldn’t rise for another few hours, and the tall pines gave him enough cover with only the light from the stars.

  He settled back in to continue his surveillance of the bunker hidden less than ten yards away. It could only be seen because he knew exactly where it lay veiled underground. An impressive formation of rock outcropping shielded the entrance from anyone who didn’t know exactly where to look. He nodded to himself. He had accomplished his task well. No one could complain about the placement of this safety house.

  This last op left him uneasy and restless. The sense of urgency spoke with every command uttered. Something was going down. He clenched his teeth. He had to unearth the truth in order to safeguard his family.

  His thumb rubbed the empty indentation around his left ring finger. It had been a year since he had gone undercover for this assignment, but the indentation remained a constant reminder of what he had left behind. If he allowed himself the freedom, his heart would ache with longing. He couldn’t undo the time he had spent away, but maybe he could protect his family from whatever threat caused such panic in the higher-ups—if he could find out the intel.

  Spying on his superiors didn’t sit well with Blake. In fact, it made the bile in his gut churn, but the thought of something happening to his family when he had a chance at finding out how to protect them far outweighed the discomfort.

  Finally, someone stirred at the hidden entrance. Governor Dutton ducked out of the bunker. Blake froze, his palms sweating. This could be the moment he had been waiting for.

  Blake had enjoyed working for the governor for the last several years. The guy would make a reliable president if he won this next election like people predicted. If Blake hadn’t promised his family that this assignment would be his last, he would have thrived continuing his service protecting the new president.

  Dutton ran a hand down his haggard face before staring up at the sky as if he would never see it again.

  Blake hungered to talk with him—one-on-one. He knew that the Governor would be direct with him. Sweeping the landscape once more, he began to stand. Before his shadow had left the brush, an exasperated sigh came from someone else exiting the bunker. Blake slowly squatted, resuming his stealth position.

  Simmons wormed out from the bunker to stand beside Governor Dutton. The small man’s beady eyes and frantic movements unsettled Blake.

  “I know this is hard to take in, sir. It has to be done, and done soon.” Simmons glanced furtively in quick succession all around him.

  Did the man feel Blake’s eyes on him?

  “The attack is imminent.” Simmons’ words shot out in rapid fire.

  Attack? Blake held his breath. This was the intel he had been waiting for. He had watched people of interest changing funds and stockpiling supplies, like ammunition and food. Blake and other coverts like him had been instructed to find secure locations for bunkers such as this one. He focused, intent on every word he could glean.

  “What about our families and our men? I have some men that have been with me since the beginning. We can’t just let them...” The governor’s voice trailed off as he scanned the brush.

  The dark night hid Blake well, of that he was certain. Yet, he had the uncanny feeling that Dutton knew he was there, listening.

  “My men are on their way to pick up your family as we speak.” Simmons moved like a weasel, a weasel who was about to snatch another animal’s food. “No one can know of our locations. A few of our men will stay on as guards, but most will be dispatched.”

  Dispatched? The hairs stood up on the back of Blake’s neck.

  Dutton seemed to stare right at Blake. “What if those men run?”

  Blake tensed. Was Dutton trying to tell him to go AWOL?

  “Run? They have no idea of our intentions, but if some evade us, we don’t have the manpower to chase after them. The time is at hand.” Simmons shrugged. “We’ll have to assume those men, and their information, will get lost in the aftermath.”

  The aftermath—the words echoed in Blake’s mind. He had heard the projections about how the country’s civilians would deteriorate after a catastrophic event. No wonder Simmons didn’t seem too concerned about leaky intel.

  “And if not?” Dutton asked.

  “Well, we’ll hope they respect the fact that we are doing what has to be done to keep our country’s leaders alive and not try to harass us for supplies. If they do, we’ll have no choice but to destroy them. That’s why we had different teams. Not one squad will know all of our defenses.”

  Blake leaned forward. He remembered separate teams coming in as his squad had been relocated and had wondere
d what those armored trucks were doing at this bunker. His eyes quickly darted around. Where had the cameras been hidden and the remote artilleries? He knew they had them.

  “Hmm. Do I get to choose the men I want to keep?” Dutton’s voice brought Blake’s attention back to the conversation. The governor’s hands squeezed and opened at his sides.

  Blake understood. Tension coursed through him as well.

  “No, sir, the director has chosen the ones we know are loyal to our cause.” Simmons took a step back toward the bunker entrance.

  Loyal to what cause? Blake quieted the urge to strangle the information from the weasel.

  “I see.” Governor Dutton made a signal against his thigh as he turned.

  Blake knew the signal even in the dim starlight. He knew what the governor ordered. Leave. Now. Disappear.

  “Sir, are you ready to go back inside and finalize the preparations?” Simmons asked, halfway behind the rock outcropping already.

  Blake wanted to laugh. The little man was probably scared of the dark.

  “I’m going to miss these stars.” The governor raised his eyes to the night sky once more.

  “Yes, well, our task is to survive this so we can see them again.” Simmons shifted his weight and glanced at the bunker door.

  “You go back in. I’m going to call my wife so she can prepare.”

  “Sir...”

  Governor Dutton dismissed the smaller man with a hard stare.

  “Yes, sir.” Simmons scurried back inside, the bunker door closing behind him with a resounding clank.

  The governor may be next in line for presidency, and he may be in politics now, but he once served his country as a respected general. He knew how to command men, and he knew how to work the system to protect the ones he cared for.

  Blake drew in a breath and let it out soundlessly. He didn’t know if the attack would be of natural causes or come by nuke, electromagnetic pulse, or what, or who would be behind it. His guess was China, though North Korea and ISIS would be a close second. Yet, there had been many discussions of the increase of solar activity. A tendril of fear tingled down his spine. Could their demise really stem from a natural disaster?

  “You know the protocol,” Dutton said, the phone to his ear.

  Blake thought the governor talked to his wife, yet his superior had taken a step or two closer toward Blake, seeming to meet his eyes.

  “You must leave now,” he commanded. “Avoid the cities. I hope to see you after the chaos has settled and order is once again restored. It is then I will need your service more than ever.”

  Blake scanned his surroundings. Nothing else stirred except himself and the governor. He slowly stood, a dark shadow in the brush. “It’s been an honor, sir.”

  “The honor has been mine. Now disappear and stay alive.” Dutton’s eyes lowered. “Yes, dear, I’m here. Yes, I’m okay. Remember what I’ve been preparing you for? You need to remain calm and remember the emergency plan. Agents should be arriving any minute to bring you and the kids to my location.”

  With one last look at the governor as he spoke to his wife, Blake silently stepped behind a tree and disappeared into the night.

  ~*~

  Kris sighed as she picked up the Cheerios off the carpet for the third time this morning. You would think that by six, the boy would know how to keep the cereal in his bowl.

  “Tucker, please put down that magazine and get your clothes on. We’re going to be late for school again.” She took the boy’s now empty bowl and tossed it into the overflowing sink. If she was late again, her principal was sure to give her another long-torturing reprimand. Even tenure couldn’t save her from that.

  “Mommy, did you know that this knife can saw, screw, spark a fire, and be used like a regular knife.” Tucker held the picture in the survival magazine against her nose.

  She pulled it back and looked at the cruel-looking knife—something she didn’t want to think of her first-grader wielding. “That’s great, Sweetie, but can it help us get to school on time?”

  “Well, no, but I will go lightning speed. Watch!” The boy zoomed towards his room in a flurry of movement that sent papers flying. A couple of Cheerios that had stuck to his pajamas fell to the floor, leaving a trail behind.

  She wished her absent husband wouldn’t send those magazines, like they were any sort of replacement for his actual presence. As if to mock her, his piercing green eyes watched her from their wedding photo. She slammed the frame down on the top of the bookcase where it stood. No matter how many times she had put it away, Tucker had always found it and put it back up. For his sake, she left it there now, even though most of the time she would rather not see the man’s smiling face.

  Kris stuffed their sandwiches into their lunch bags and took them to the door where Tucker hastily slammed his feet into his shoes. He had put his shirt on backwards and wore ripped jeans, but he had dressed himself. Some days she had to choose her battles and feel grateful for the little things.

  They clambered into the car and pulled down the long driveway through their well-maintained forest. No brush grew beneath the tall pines, spruces, and firs, and each tree’s dead branches had been cut off to leave only healthy trees and bare ground. In this dry year, it just might save their house from a wildfire. After her husband had completed all the initial work, he insisted on having a grounds keeper come out to ensure the forest stayed maintained. Too bad she had to let the hired man go two months ago. Luckily, there hadn’t been much growth since then due to the lack of rain.

  At the end of the drive, she slowed the car to wait for the gate to open automatically. Besides the large piece of property and the grounds keeper, her husband also had insisted upon this gate. As the automatic gate closed behind them, she looked at the clock and sighed with relief. They would get to school before the second bell. Her shoulders eased, and a few breaths later, her white-knuckled grip loosened.

  “Mommy, can I go over to Vinny’s house today?”

  “You know why I don’t like you going over there.” She pursed her lips.

  “But Dad says those games are good for my skills, that one day I will need to know how to shoot.”

  “Shooting zombies on a video game is nothing like shooting a real gun toward something living, Tuck.” She did her best to soften her tone. He wanted to grow up so fast, and all she wanted was him to be her sweet little boy for a little longer. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  The long standing fight between her and her husband warred within her as she kept the one-sided conversation going even in his absence.

  He needs to be prepared, he would say.

  Why would a six-year-old need to know how to survive on his own or defend himself? That’s why he had parents, and though her husband might leave them for months at a time, she never left their son. With a sigh, Kris realized she was the one keeping this fight going, for she hadn’t heard from her husband in close to a year.

  A year of no contact. Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, fury causing her muscles to go rigid. Not one single call. Nothing. Then two months ago his checks stopped being automatically deposited. What did that mean? He promised to always return. Rage consumed her until a torrent of fear washed through it. What if he had died? How could she keep up the life they had created for Tuck without him? Her chest squeezed tight, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Well, can Vinny come to our house then?”

  Kris blinked her eyes. She didn’t need to waste her time thinking about that reckless, selfish man right now. Tuck was her everything, and she had a classroom of fourth-graders waiting for her.

  “We’ll see, Sweetie.” She glanced at him in the mirror.

  “I want to show him my new survival magazine.”

  “I’m sure he would love it.” Vinny, though a sweet and respectful kid, loved anything to do with weapons, and his parents seemed to encourage his interest with all the war-type video games they bought for him.

  Kris pulled int
o a parking space in the staff lot just as the first bell rang. As soon as the car shut off, Tucker scrambled out of his booster seat and kissed her on the cheek. His green eyes and the sandy brown hair she tousled reminded her so much of his father.

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you, too, Tuck” She squeezed him tightly. He may get his looks from his dad, but his sweetness, she knew, he got from her. “Have a good day. Be nice to Mrs. Robins.”

  “I always am. I’ll wave to you at lunch!”

  “I’ll be looking for it.” She grabbed her purse and bag, slinging them over her shoulder.

  “We always return to each other,” Tuck said as he did every time they parted.

  “We always return to each other.” She blew him a kiss as he threw his backpack over a shoulder and ran towards his classroom.

  That saying meant a lot to her, and though her husband left without notice for months at a time, he did always return. This time she would ask him not to. A year with no contact besides a few magazines was too much to let go.

  ~2~

  “Are you sure you don’t mind, Sara? It shouldn’t be longer than an hour,” Kris asked while watching Tucker play with Vinny on the school’s playground.

  “Of course, it’s no trouble at all. Vinny will be ecstatic. You know, I could just take him to our house instead of having them play here the whole time. Vinny has a new game he’s been wanting to show off.”

  A rock sat heavy in Kris’s belly. She didn’t approve of the video games Tucker played at their house, but she couldn’t take her son to the last-minute, emergency staff meeting. Kris cringed, but did her best to cover it up.

  “Don’t worry, this one doesn’t have any zombies.” Sara laughed lightly.

  “Oh, that’s nice, but it really shouldn’t take that long.” Kris continued to watched her son playing. Was it wrong that she wanted him to stay innocent for a little while longer?

  “It’s not that far. I could get them a snack. Besides, it’s really hot today.”