Kris bit down hard on the stick, fear making her stomach churn and threaten to heave.
“Okay, here we go.”
The pain bit into her palm like a searing flame. She clenched down on the stick, reminding herself she had been through labor, she could do anything. Sucking in air through her nose, she did her best to breathe and force herself to stay present. Rather than focusing on the searing pain that threatened to push her out of consciousness, she turned her entire concentration to listening for Tucker’s movements in the forest behind her.
Blake cursed a few times, his panting breath doing nothing to reassure her.
With one final blaze of pain, his movement stopped. Her hand throbbed, and her teeth and jaw ached. She spat out the stick. “You done?” she said in a raspy, haggard voice.
“Yes, tough lady.” He pressed a wad of gauze over the even bigger hole and then brought his head to hers, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck to lean her forehead against his own. His sheen of perspiration mingled with the drops of hers as they breathed each other’s breaths. “You’re amazing.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, wishing that things were different, wishing that he hadn’t been gone for a year, wishing that the world wasn’t ending as they knew it, and wishing she hadn’t fallen on her hand. She knew what this could mean with no hospitals or doctors able to administer medication or stitches or whatever may be needed.
She heard rushed steps in the leaves and pine needles. Relief washed through her, almost enough that she wanted just to close her eyes and sleep. Surely this all had to be a dream, or rather a nightmare.
“I got it!” Tucker said triumphantly.
“I’m so proud of you, Sweetie!” Kris leaned back from Blake and reached her uninjured hand to her son. “You are so brave and courageous putting your life in danger to help me.”
Tucker smiled and looked to Blake.
“That’s a sign of a good man right there,” he said as he ruffed up Tuck’s hair. “Wash that moss off in the creek, and we’ll pound it with this rock.”
“Then we put it on Mommy’s owie, right?”
“Yep, and wrap it up.”
Kris watched her boys work together. Maybe she had been too hard on Blake. All the skills he had insisted Tucker learn were actually paying off. In fact, it had saved them or at least brought them back together.
A warm wind whipped up her hair. The blast caused prickles of fear to pierce her chest. She turned and saw the orange brighter than it had been and even a few flames licking the sky a distance away.
“Blake?” She turned to catch his eyes and saw him staring at the same scene.
“Almost done, Buddy? We’ve got to get this on mom and move.”
“Got it.” Tucker picked up a wad of the green goo, looked up at her, and with her nod, he gently placed it on her wound.
Blake wrapped it in place and then stuck everything back in the packs. He held down a hand to Kris and pulled her up. The world spun slightly, but she widened her stance and set her jaw.
“You got this, tough girl,” Blake reassured her, using the term he called her when they first met. He kissed her on the forehead and then reached for Tucker’s hand. “Okay, a mile to go and we’re home, safe and sound.”
“Let’s do this!” Tucker cheered.
Despite the danger racing them down, the situation the world was in, and the way her hand throbbed, a warmth spread through her. She had her family back together, and her little miracle made that happen.
~7~
Blake pushed down the fear that raced up his spine. He didn’t have time for it. He needed to be ready and completely focused in order to get his family to safety. Mapping out their route, he made sure not to go too close to any neighbors’ houses. Another delay could cost them everything.
As they charged up the little gorge, a cooler gust hit them from the opposite direction of the fire. On the wind he smelled the most delicious scent. Rain.
Kris must have smelled it, too, because her eyes swiftly met his, hope glowing within...overpowering the orange reflection of the sky.
“Is it too much to hope for some mercy?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m hoping with every ounce of my being, not only for us...but everyone.” The truth hit him hard. He knew he could have helped all those people back there when they dropped off Hannah. He knew he could help his neighbors, but it may be at the cost of losing his loved ones. You just can’t trust a group of humans. He had seen it too many times.
“All those people...” Kris’s voice faded off.
He knew she would rescue each and every one of them. They didn’t have the supplies for that. As it was, they would have to figure out how to survive without amenities soon enough. At least, they had enough to get through this first winter and the bunker to keep them safe through it as well.
Another gust brought a spattering of wetness.
“Rain!” Tucker shouted.
Both Blake and Kris shushed him. Not that he shouldn’t be excited about the rain. It was a Godsend, but they came up to the neighbor’s property line. The one with the aggressive dogs. The last thing they needed was to be run down by one of them.
“It’s raining, though. We haven’t had rain in like a year, and isn’t this good for the fire?”
“Yes, it is, Tuck. It’s very good. We just have to be stealthy to get home right now. Can you be sneaky through Mr. Smither’s property?” Blake redirected him.
“Oh, like a ninja on a mission?”
“Yeah, like that.”
They ninjaed their way through the property until they hit their fence line. Blake saw the fence and his shoulders relaxed. They had made it. Their house lay just on the other side of the fence and their bunker, too. A year’s supply of food, water, and everything else they needed. He looked at Kris clutching her hand to her chest—even antibiotics if needed.
They walked the fence line to the gate, and Tucker ran up to it, punching in the code. Blake watched closely. He pressed each number carefully, his birthday. Why hadn’t Blake thought of that when he tried to get in earlier? The gate, of course, didn’t budge.
“Why isn’t the gate opening?” Tucker tried the combination again. “Oh, that’s right...no power.”
“We’ll hop it,” Blake said, taking a step toward it.
“Hey look, it’s your Jeep.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t work anymore, though.”
“We should still push it onto our property. Maybe we could fix it.”
“There’s always that possibility, I guess, but not tonight.” Blake picked him up and set him as high on the fence as he could. Then he clambered up to the top and lowered the boy down the other side. Then he jumped back off to help Kris over. With her injured hand, the clambering was a bit awkward, and she fell more than landed on the other side.
“You okay, Mommy?”
“Yeah, Sweetie. I’m okay.”
Her voice caused worry to grow inside Blake. She was exhausted. They were so close.
“Can we have a sleepover in the bunker tonight?”
“Absolutely, Tuck. I think that’s a great idea.” The boy had read his mind. He stole a glance at Kris as they walked down their long driveway.
“I just need to grab a few things from the house, and then I’ll join you.” Kris moved toward the house while Tucker took off into the forest where the bunker lay hidden.
“I can get whatever you need. You should go rest.”
“No, I know where everything is. I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, Mommy! Would you get my survival magazines?”
“Sure, Sweetie. Go with Daddy, and I’ll be right there.”
Blake handed her his headlamp, although he wished she would listen to reason. He wanted to make her go to the bunker, but he knew her too well and didn’t want to start their time with an argument. Reluctantly, he took up Tucker and traveled through their maintained forest to the pile of boulders the entrance hid behind.
The sky began to
lighten on the horizon, and in the faint glow he could see the healthy, cleared forest. He was happy that Kris had allowed the grounds keeper he hired to continue his work to keep their property fire-safe. It cost a pretty penny, but one that might just save their house tonight.
~*~
Kris watched them head off toward the bunker. They had made it. The fire still raged and roared toward them, but they had made it back to their property, to their home. The rain had only produced a few showers, barely enough to wet their clothes, but the air still hung heavy with expectancy. A storm brewed, hopefully a storm of mercy.
The house was dark and cold. She clicked on the headlamp. It wasn’t like it was the first time she wandered around her house with a flashlight. Power outages were normal upcountry and even more so since the big fires. The electrical company would shut it off if there was any threat of fire whatsoever. Well, they couldn’t have prevented this one.
Kris emptied a tub of toys onto Tucker’s floor so she could use the box to load what they needed. A tear rolled down her cheek while she scanned his room. Tuck would be so heartbroken if the fire burned up his adventure room and all his toys. She threw a few treasured toys, his stuffed animal, and favorite blanket into the tub.
She then sifted through his closet to find the memento box that held his footprints from the day he was born, a lock of hair from his first haircut, his four baby teeth, and a few other special things. She left the room and came back with an arm-load of photo albums, a few books and pictures, and other keepsakes.
Pushing the tub to the door as best she could with her injured hand, she couldn’t stop the feeling that she forgot something. His survival magazines!
She walked back into his room and tried to grab them with her uninjured hand. They slipped from her grasp and spread out on the floor. She knelt to pick them back up, noticing slips of white paper sticking out of most of them.
Knowing she didn’t have much time but not able to stop her curiosity, she pulled one out. Scrawled in Tucker’s wavering handwriting, which must have been from earlier that year because his penmanship had improved dramatically with the start of first grade, were numbers and letters underneath them. She focused a little more, mentally adding spaces between words. We Always Return to Each Other.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She pulled out another one. Don’t forget to store extra water. Another: I love you. Tell your Mommy I love her too. And then another from the top of the stack: I’ll be home soon!
Kris’s eyes blurred with tears. Blake had sent messages.
The door slammed open. “Kris, are you okay?” Blake’s voice sounded from the living room and then closer. “What are you doing? We have to go...” His voice ended right next to her.
She looked up at him, the tears now flowing freely. “You sent messages...”
“Yes,” he said, squatting next to her. “You didn’t know?”
She shook her head, emotions rushing through her. Why didn’t Tucker tell her about these messages? Then, shame filled her with the hot coals of knowing. She hadn’t want to hear anything about Blake. Her anger had pushed her boy away from her. His fear kept these hidden.
Blake touched her face gently. “I did everything I could, and I know it wasn’t enough.” His thumb wiped at the tears streaming down. “I promise I will never leave you two like that again.”
Kris sucked in a sob and allowed him to wrap her up in an embrace.
Warmth filled her. The warmth of his large, protective body, the warmth of feeling safe, and the warmth of love. When he pulled her to her feet, he planted a lingering kiss on her forehead.
“Please give me the chance to rebuild your trust in me.”
She looked up into his green eyes, so full of love and adoration. How could she say no? Besides, where would she be without him right now as the world crumbled, or rather burned, around them?
She nodded, and he bent to pick up the magazines and all the messages Tucker had scrawled out. She fought the pain that her son had done such a thing without her help or even her knowing. That kid was smart, almost too smart.
Blake set the magazines in the tub. “Anything else.”
She walked to the picture of their wedding day that she had slammed down the day before and placed it in the tub Blake now carried. With a sigh of longing, she looked around her home. It was a place filled with memories of their wedding night, of laying on the couch while feeling Tucker rolling around in her belly, the carpet where Tucker took his first steps, the bed he crawled in to sleep with her every night, the pictures of their life lining the walls.
Thinking that all this may burn and this might be the last time she saw it all, created a hole in her heart much larger than the one that throbbed in her palm.
“I wish we could take it all,” she whispered as he led her out the door and turned the key. With the tub under one arm, he took her hand in his.
“I know, but we have each other, and that is all that matters.” He pulled her close into him as she felt a few more drops of rain splash on her face.
“Maybe God will grant us mercy and let this rain come down in a torrent.”
“I pray that He does,” Blake said in the same reverent tone.
Tucker met them at the entrance to the bunker. His enthusiasm for the adventure filled her heart with love. How she wished she could have the eyes of a child. As she watched him sift through the tub to find his special things, she remembered Blake’s words. Yes, they had each other. With that, they could get through anything.
The End...for now!
*******
Thank you for reading the first installment of Grant Us Mercy. I hope you enjoyed the survival journey of Blake, Kris, and Tucker reaching their bunker.
Stay tuned for installment two. Trapped in the small bunker, the estranged family has to learn to live in such close proximity. When a group of people camp on top of them, will they be able to keep their secret location hidden?
Want to read the first chapter of Installment Two now? Keep reading. A sneak peek is included!
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Remember Hannah’s dad, Arland? Blake imparted some of his knowledge with the meek scientist. In this exclusive story, find out what Arland does armed with that information. Can he protect Hannah and his community through the apocalypse?
Grant Us Mercy:
Arland’s Transformation
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Next in Grant Us Mercy
Grant Us Mercy:
Installment TWO
Will their bunker become their tomb?
The cold steel walls close in on the estranged Chantrys. Anxiety and tempers increase with so many constant unknowns, including how to tolerate living in such close proximity for the next several months.
Yards of hard-packed earth separate them from the storm of chaos raging above. Will it be enough to keep them safely hidden? Will there be anything or anyone left once they finally emerge?
Sickness, marauders, murder, and a new gift all await in this second installment of the post-apocalyptic serial novel, Grant Us Mercy. Every three weeks, the next installment will release and continue the survival adventures of the Chantrys.
SNEAK PEEK!!!
Grant Us Mercy: Installment Two
October 13, 2020 11:58
Silence filled the bunker, the type of silence Kris thought would exist in a tomb. Empty. Void of life. She looked up at the ceiling knowing yards of dirt separated her from the life that still for
ged on up there.
She couldn’t hear the crickets chirping, nor wind singing through the trees. She didn’t understand the absoluteness of silence until spending time in the bunker. Moving closer to her son’s body wrapped around her, she took solace in hearing the slight whisper of his breath.
The urge to open a window and look out about drove her mad. Had the rain come with enough ferocity to douse the raging fire? Or were those flames right now devouring her land, her home, and her memories?
She untangled herself from Tucker, who had refused to sleep alone in the hammock, and quietly sat on the edge of the thin, springy mattress. Her son rustled in the bed, snuggling into the warm spot she had just vacated. The air tensed, and though she couldn’t see her hand in front of her, she knew her movement had awoken Blake on the other side of the bed.
Kris froze. The last thing she wanted was a conversation with him. There was too much to say, too many emotions living behind those words to be useful. She needed space.
Her gaze roamed the pitch black, closed-in box holding her family. She couldn’t see the restricting walls, but she could feel their cold metal presence. The only thing she didn’t have right now was space.
The darkness enveloped her, and she hoped Blake would fall back asleep. Her breath came silently, long and deep. The air tasted stale and dense. What she wouldn’t give to go outside and breathe the pine-scented breeze.
To her dismay, the sheet rustled, and the unmistakable pure manly scent of her husband came on waves of air caused by his movement. Her body reacted, and an instant need to be in his arms and comforted washed over her.
Her mind, though, reinforced the invisible wall between them, a wall as dark as the space surrounding them. She wanted to focus on anything besides him and settled on the throbbing of her injured hand.
His presence invaded her barriers, overwhelming her with the heat of his torso moving to rest on the squeaky mattress next to her. He turned on the dim, red light on the wall next to the bed. It illuminated his naked, sculpted chest in a soft glow. Why did he have to sleep in his underwear? Couldn’t he at least have worn a shirt?
Grant Us Mercy (Book 1): Grant Us Mercy Page 8