Her mind swirled. Here she was worried about her husband sitting inches away from her when outside the world was burning. People were probably dying or fleeing their homes with nowhere to go. The quandary almost caused her to let out a cynical laugh, but she caught herself just in time.
“Can’t sleep?” Blake’s gravelly voice broke the eerie silence. He set the light on his lap and rubbed his face and short hair with large, thick hands.
Where had he been for the last year? She noticed a few new scars, still puckered pink, on his arms and chest. Desire to know everything about his time away flooded her, but she dammed up the rush. So much time had passed. She had accustomed herself to the life of a single mom. It would take time readjusting to his constant presence—if he remained as he had promised.
“I’m worried about my parents and my brother.” The statement wasn’t a lie. She had been thinking of them among many other things.
“They’re prepared. They’ll make it.” He yawned and stretched.
“Maybe the CME didn’t affect them?” Hoped filled her voice, but with one look at Blake’s resigned features glowing in the red light, she knew the hope was false.
“I’m not sure, but with auroras like that, I would surmise this to be a national event, if not global.”
She hung her head. Her family still lived in the rurals of Idaho, where she left them when she had gone off to college in California. Who knew she would meet a crazy, military survivalist and fall in love? She had always planned on returning.
“Your brother knows what he’s doing. Remember? Last Christmas they talked about their rendezvous plan so he could get your parents to his land.”
“You weren’t here last Christmas,” she said. Her words held no bite, only exhaustion and acceptance.
She reminded herself that he had sent contact. Her eyes instinctively went to the tub in the dark corner. Its outline was barely visible in the soft red glow. The tub contained the secret coded messages Blake had sent over the last year, the messages her six-year-old boy decoded himself and didn’t share with her, out of fear she was certain.
“I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “The Christmas before that. Any word of change to their plan?”
“No, I’m sure they saw it all as a game they played with their crazy son-in-law.”
“Game or not, it will save them.”
Kris nodded. It probably would. She knew her brother and his wife had started living off the land as much as possible, not because they feared an apocalyptic event, but because they liked the idea of the freedom of being off-grid. Her heart squeezed. Would she ever get to see them all again?
“What about your dad?” she asked and tensed. She never knew what his reaction would be when mentioning his dad. There was no love lost between them. His mom had passed away when he was a teenager. Hate and anger filled the house after her loss, which spurred Blake to enlist as soon as he was of age.
“I’ve shared all he allowed me. His survival is now up to him. Not much I can do about it anymore.” His voice was devoid of emotion as he said it, but his lips twitched ever so slightly.
He rose off the bed, taking the glowing light with him. His muscular back faced her, a specimen that most men in their forties would not have. She craved to reach out and touch him, to allow him to enfold her in his strong arms and pretend that they were just playing the game again. Man, did she wish that the world as she knew it was not burning up this very instant.
Blake cocked his ear toward the vent in the ceiling. He touched the air ventilation system in the corner of the room. With a few rapid cranks of a handle, the soft hum of the system echoed in the small space. Kris knew many people who used white noise to sleep every night. She never could understand how a constant drone could help a person sleep.
Blake’s steps barely made a sound besides a soft, sticky suction of bare feet on the linoleum as he walked silently back to the vent. For such a large man, she had no idea how he walked so quietly. She assumed his occupation had required that level of stealth. Otherwise he might not be with them now. A shudder ran through her.
Kris held her breath as her husband stood silently below the outtake. That vent, the door, and secret crawl space were the only passages out into life. Her heart hammered with the thought of being stuck in this ten-by-twenty box for more than just a night.
“Can you hear anything?” she asked.
“No,” he shook his head, and then stretched, his hands flat on the ceiling. He paced the floor. It hadn’t even been half a day, and he already acted like a caged animal. He turned his eyes back to her, their depths blackened by the lack of light. She knew that look and didn’t want to go there.
“What happens if the fire makes it here?” she quickly asked, wanting to delay the words almost spilling from his mouth.
“It will burn through the duff. Since you have kept the grounds so clean, the house should be fine.”
Kris’s shoulders relaxed. “There’s still so much in there that I don’t want to see gone. What about the bunker? Will it just go right over the top of us?”
“If it has enough fuel to do that. It might not make it much into our property at all.”
“If it does go over us,” Tucker’s little voice said from the bed behind her, “will the smoke come down the air pipe?”
“No, Tuck. You don’t have to worry about that. This air filtration system is top-of-the-art. No particles or gas can get through it,” Blake reassured.
“Good. My throat hurts from all that smoke.” His voice sounded deep and raspy.
Kris grabbed a water bottle with her uninjured hand and handed it to him. “We’ll add some aloe to our water in the morning.”
“It’s actually almost noon.” Blake said after looking at a cell phone, the glow illuminating his face.
“It still works?” she asked, hope lining her voice.
“No reception. The cell towers fried just like the power lines. The bunker acts as a faraday cage so...”
“I made one, Dad!” Tucker sat up in bed, his little voice hoarse and raw. “It’s in the house. I have the radio in it, just like you instructed.” He threw his hands over his mouth, and his eyes went wide as he looked at his mother.
“It’s okay, Tuck. I know about the messages.” Kris brought him onto her lap. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t share them with me.”
“You were just so mad at Daddy.” The defeat in his words squeezed her heart.
Her gaze shot to Blake’s before hiding from his intense gaze. “I know, Sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Blake blew out his breath, and then sat next to them. “It’s my fault, Tuck. A man shouldn’t leave his family.”
Kris met Blake’s eyes over Tucker’s head.
“I’ve learned that now. I won’t be leaving you two again.” Even in the red glow, she swore she could see the earnestness alive in his green eyes.
“I know. We’re together now, as a family.” Tucker wiggled and squirmed next to Kris.
“Sweetie, do you need to use the bathroom?”
“Yeah, but that composting toilet is weird, and it’s so small in there, and it’s so...dark.” His voice had lowered to a whisper. He had been exceptionally brave last night, but he was still just a boy, a boy afraid of the dark.
“Something’s going on with the DC power system. I’ll have to go and check. You can take this.” Blake handed Tucker the cell phone after turning on flashlight mode.
Kris slid to her feet. The cold of the floor seeped through her skin, and she wished she had pushed to get better flooring in here. Not that she had ever believed they would be using it for real.
“There’s a lantern in here...” She rummaged through a small storage compartment next to the bed. There were several storage places stashed throughout the small quarters. “Here.” She pulled out the battery-operated lantern and turned it on.
The small room lit up, but it still felt like night. It would always feel like night this far underground. How long woul
d they have to stay here?
“Much better,” Tucker said with a smile. “Could I still leave the door open?”
“Of course. Let’s get you all set up.” Kris held out her hand, and they took the five steps to the bathroom together.
Blake grunted as he fiddled with the battery compartment next to the bathroom. He muttered under his breath and then rested his head against the wall. Kris knew better than to interrupt with a question, so she just watched him out of the corner of her eye while she ensured Tucker had everything he needed.
“I’ve got to go up top.” Blake ground his teeth. She could hear them grating even five feet away.
“Is that safe?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“I don’t know yet, but it has to be done.” He shoved his feet into his pants, tugged a shirt over his washboard abs, and then donned a holster.
The click-click of him checking his gun before slipping it into the holster sent a shiver down Kris’s spine.
“You expecting trouble?”
“Expect the—“
“The unexpected and prepare for everything in between,” Tucker finished for him as he stood from the toilet and pulled up his pants.
“That’s right, my boy.” Blake’s goofy grin made him seem so boyish that Kris had to work hard to hide her smile. He pulled out another handgun and held it out for Kris, handle first. “I know you don’t like them, but you need it...just in case.”
“Can’t you just put it on the table? I’ll grab it if something crazy happens.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Krista.” Blake shook his head as he flicked the safety on and slipped the gun into her pants pocket.
The weight and cold steel sent chills throughout Kris. She glared at her husband. She had gotten accustomed to making her own decisions. Having him dictate her life again would take some getting used to.
Want to find out how the Chantrys survive the next few months?
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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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Grant Us Mercy (Book 1): Grant Us Mercy Page 9