Grant Us Mercy (Book 5): Grant Us Mercy

by Little, D. C.

  Three more shots went off with three more twangs and three more men dropping their guns and cursing.

  “What’s going on?” a man asked as he joined the other four who stared at each other and into the woods as if they hadn’t a clue.

  Blake shot the speaker’s gun out of his hand. Instead of screaming and staring around in shock, he yelled, “We’re under fire. Take cover!”

  The men scrambled to squat behind trees along the trail.

  “What’s going on up there?” Blake instantly recognized Meyers’ booming voice from further down the trail.

  “We’re under fire, sir,” the other hollered back.

  “How many casualties?”

  “None, sir. They targeted our guns.”

  Blake could hear murmurs and discussion. He licked his lips. Should he speak up now or wait to see how Meyers would play this.

  “Send in another five men.” Meyer’s shouted.

  Blake tensed and breathed deep as he readied to take two shots. These men didn’t seem so confident. Their guns shook in their hands as they swung them left and right. The fifth man actually got in a couple shots before his gun was taken out, and he ran with the others back toward cover.

  He heard Meyers curse, and then quiet resumed in the forest. Blake eased his back and stretched, never taking his eyes off the trail. Could they be trying to come around the side? Even with the constant snow falling, he would hear footsteps squeaking on the fresh snow.

  Finally, after Blake thought he’d be frozen to the ground, Meyers’s voice boomed out.

  “I appreciate you not killing my men. Well, at least these ones. The problem is, though, you killed my lead scout. Brutally, if I do say so. How can I let that go?”

  Blake glanced at Butler who watched him intensely. Blake knew all he had to do was nod, and Butler would stand and walk back into that army, facing certain consequences for him and his family. He blew out a breath and sucked it back in.

  “What you should be asking yourself is, how will you keep your men alive in the forest during a snowstorm all night?” Blake called out in his strongest tone.

  Would it work? Did Meyers have enough common sense to know that they would freeze without preparation in this storm?

  “Anything can last a night,” Meyers called back.

  Blake’s hands clenched and unclenched around his rifle. He had to think. Smart. How did this guy think?

  “Even if the snow covered your tracks and you lost your way back? How will you keep your men alive then?”

  Blake heard the hissing argument that ensued and couldn’t stop the wry, one-sided grin his lips pushed into. Distention in the group. They were held together loosely and by only one motivation...surviving. Staying out in the frozen forest would seem impossible to a group of city people, a death trap.

  Cold seeped into Blake as the sky darkened. The sun had set. True cold was about to set in. How long would these men last when they felt the deep freeze of a mountain storm?

  “Our camp back there has firewood, strong shelters with comfortable beds, and lots of food. Why don’t you go back and get warm. It’s yours. We don’t need it anymore.” Blake hoped his ploy worked.

  Those men had to be freezing. He was, and he was a mountain boy decked out in snow gear. With the idea of warmth and food, the men wouldn’t want to keep going.

  People started stirring, and Blake could see a good number fading off through the forest, following their half-filled tracks back to camp. He hadn’t heard the command or another word from Meyers, and didn’t trust them, so he settled back in even though his body stiffened with cold.

  Sure enough, some time later, more men stirred and made their way back the way they had come. Blake still gave it another twenty minutes or so. It was long enough that his stiff muscles didn’t want to budge as he rolled over and pushed to his feet. Cautiously he peered through the darkening forest.

  When he felt sure that no one from the marauders had stayed behind, he signaled to the others. A few groans carried through the thick blanket of snow as his comrade’s shadowy forms filtered in from the forest. He clasped hands with Kevin and John and then glanced toward where Butler walked toward them, a smile spreading his lips.

  “I can’t express enough gratitude...Chantry!” Butler shouted as twig cracked from the direction Meyer’s and his men had fled.

  Butler took a flying leap toward Blake, knocking them both to the ground as a shot echoed across them. Two more shots fired, and Blake heard a grunt as a body fell close by.

  “Sir?” Kevin asked as he and John pulled Butler’s limp body off him.

  Butler lay unmoving. Blake gasped as he tried to get to Butler. His side burned with white-hot fire. He looked down at the snow turning dark with blood. Blake pushed through the pain and raised on his knees to check Butler whose own side was dark with blood.

  “You’re both hit?” John asked.

  “There was only one shot,” Kevin said.

  Blake looked back at the body his men had put down. One of them kicked him over to ensure he was no longer a threat. He knew that face. It was the other scout.

  “Quick, get the first aid kit from my pack.” Blake painfully shrugged out of his backpack and let the men rummage through it. “We have to stop the bleeding.”

  “On him or you?” Kevin asked.

  “Butler. I’m fine.” As he said it, he touched the blood that seeped from his own wound. It came slowly, though, not pumping like Butlers.

  He handed his machete to John. “Get a travois ready for him.”

  With the solid thwack-thwack of his blade chopping down saplings, Blake worked quickly, slowing the bleeding from the man that had saved his life.

  “A life for a life,” Butler rasped out as Blake shoved another wad of gauze into the man’s wound.

  “Stop going all fatalistic on me, Butler.” Blake rolled him over gently to make sure he was right about the exit wound.

  “It went straight through him and into you,” Kevin said as he took a blanket from his pack to wrap around the poles John cut.

  Blake ignored the comment and wrapped the bandages tight around Butler. He knew a bit about medical aid, but it wasn’t his top skill. In the dark, he had no idea how to go about stitching him up. They needed Laurie, and they needed light.

  A wave of dizziness made his head swim. After Butler was as ready as he could be for travel, Blake pulled up his shirt and tried to examine his wound in the dark. He reached around behind and his hand came back clean.

  Blake squeezed his eyes shut and growled low and deep.

  “What is it?” John chopping the poles came back over with his machete.

  “Nothing.”

  John reached for his shirt to look at the wound. Blake slapped his hand away and grabbed the machete from him. “Let’s go.”

  “What if they follow our tracks?” Kevin asked.

  “If they want to be foolish enough to follow us into a snowstorm, let them. We’ll pick them off one by one.” He turned back toward the camp and shouted, “Did you hear that? Follow us and you’ll all die!”

  They did their best to strap Butler to the travois and took turns pulling the groaning man through the woods. The snow fell heavily upon them as they pushed through the foot of snow that had piled up in the last several hours.

  The eerie snow-lit darkness played with Blake’s mind. He did his best to follow the path, but with the heavy snow and no light, it was virtually impossible to see what direction they went. He stopped under a large, thick fir tree with branches hanging down in the snow. Pushing his way under its snow-ladened curtain, he found the ground around the trunk bare of snow and virtually dry.

  “We stopping?” John asked.

  Blake reached over and felt Butler’s pulse. The weak beat of life felt slow compared to Blake’s racing heart. He fell to his knees and began digging into the duff at the base of the trunk.

  “Has he lost it?” John asked.

  “I don’t know, but he’s los
ing too much blood,” Kevin said.

  “Sir, maybe we should leave this traitor and hurry you back to Laurie.” John moved to do just that.

  Blake shot a look of pure hatred toward them. “You know we don’t leave a man behind.”

  “But, sir, it could cost you your life,” John argued.

  Blake gave him a dirty look and then shrugged off his backpack, choking on the gasp of pain that wanted to escape. Digging through his pack, he found his fire starter and a precious piece of tinder. He cleared an area and lit a fire.

  “Get me a branch for a torch,” he commanded.

  Kevin pushed through the curtain of snow-covered branches and returned a few moments later with a wet piece of wood. Blake ripped off a section of the blanket on the travois and wrapped it around the end of the wood.

  With his knife, he dug into the trunk until sap oozed out. He covered the blanket wrapped around the stick in the sticky substance. Without preamble, he dipped the torch into the little fire he had made until it lit with a glow. That one little beacon brought with it a sense of hope.

  “Now, let’s get back to our families.” Blake grit his teeth while he pushed to a stand and protected the torch when ducking through the curtain of tree.

  The torch didn’t help him finding his location, but the fire brought warmth, light, and a sense of peace. He knew that if he pushed on, keeping the ridge to his left, he would eventually hit the road. Once there, they would find their people.

  A deep longing for his family filled him. He wanted to feel Kris’s arms around him and see the love in her eyes. She saw something in him that no one else did, something that made him want to be the man she thought he was. He wanted to hoist Tucker up to his shoulders and listen to him ramble on about all the latest observations he’s had. He wanted to nuzzle into his sweet smelling daughter, hear her coo and reach for his bearded face.

  Those images kept his feet plodding on until he reached the soft open clearing of the road. A sigh escaped his lips. “We’re going to make it boys. We’re so close.”

  Blake turned up the road, losing himself in his memories of his family again. His reason for living. His reason for everything.

  “Look! There, through the trees to the left. A fire glow.” Kevin said, pointing into the forest.

  Blake stopped, his vision blurring as he saw the orange glow coming through the trees. His body felt numb, his lips and cheeks tingled.

  “Our men have returned,” he heard a guard shout.

  “We made it,” Blake whispered and fell face first into the snow.

  ~*~

  Mercy’s crying woke Kris up, next to her Tucker lay still except his eyes, which were wide and searching. Kris leaned up, soothing Mercy with soft pats and murmurs. Tucker turned his attention to her.

  “What’s happening?” she asked, trying to push through the grogginess threatening to pull her back into sleep.

  “I think Dad’s back,” he said, though his pale face said more than his words.

  “They’re back!” a guard shouted. “Two injured.”

  “Tucker, you want to lay here next to Ethan?” Laurie asked as she rose and started grabbing her bag.

  Arland had already taken off, his laces still untied. Kris bounced Mercy who had settled into a whimper as she tugged on her boots.

  “Are you okay with staying?” Kris asked him.

  Tucker shook his head. “I want to see Dad.”

  “I’ll stay with Ethan,” the older boy who had lost his real father said. “My sister and I will.” He nodded toward his sister sucking on her thumb. His mom had already run toward the commotion as had Janene.

  “Thank you, Nathan,” Laurie told the boy. “One of us should be back soon.”

  The boy nodded and took his sister by the hand to the blanket where Ethan still slept soundly.

  Tucker pulled on his boots and stuffed the laces down the sides. “Ready.”

  Kris stood with him and held out her hand. She warmed with the thought of being in her husband’s arms, feeling his strength and comfort. Yet her heart lurched as she saw Arland and the other men struggling with the bulk of a large and limp man.

  “No!” Tucker yelled. He pulled his hand out of hers and ran toward his unconscious dad.

  Kris’s pulse pounded so loud she felt like it consumed her, and she lived in the constant whooshing of her heartbeat. He had to be alive. He couldn’t have left them. She quickly followed her frantic son, catching Arland’s eyes as she caught up with him.

  “He’s alive,” he said gravely.

  Kris bent over, bracing herself on her knees and holding Mercy against her. A rush of emotion ran through her in a wave of heat and relief. He’s alive. Tucker clung to her, his little cries bringing her out of her own emotional release.

  “He’s going to be okay,” she whispered into his ear.

  “I was so scared, Mommy,” he said through quiet sobs.

  Kris knelt down in front of him. “I know, Sweetie. I was, too.” She wrapped her arms around him, sandwiching Mercy in the middle. She didn’t mind though. Her little whimpers turned into coos as she reached for her brother’s face.

  “Bubbu, bubbu,” Mercy said.

  Tucker pushed back and wiped at his eyes.

  Mercy reached toward him again. “Bubbu, bubbu.”

  “She’s calling me!” Tucker broke into a grin and covered his sister with kisses. “Yes, I’m your brother, your bubbu.”

  Another group of men passed them as they pulled a travois with Butler on it, blood covering his entire midsection. Kevin and John, though looking exhausted, didn’t seem hurt, came behind them. Janene hung on Kevin’s arm, tears running down her face and her free hand around her infant in the wrap that Kris had helped her make.

  Kris reached out and touched Kevin. “What happened?”

  “I’m so sorry. I begged him to leave the traitor so we could carry him, but he just kept pushing on.”

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “One of the marauders had hidden after everyone else left. He shot at Blake. The traitor jumped in front of the bullet, but it went through him and into Blake.”

  Kris stopped. Tucker tugged on her arm toward where they had taken Blake. She allowed him to pull her there, her mind trying to process what the man had said. Butler had tried to save Blake’s life, but it ended up getting both of them.

  Laurie had already set to work on Blake by the time they made it to his side. It had been hard enough to stitch him up after the bear attack, but seeing him bleeding and Laurie digging in for what she presumed to be the bullet made the blood drain from her face, leaving her dizzy. She pulled Tuck into her, shielding his eyes.

  Arland came and wrapped both of them in a protective hug. “Why don’t we go get warm by the fire?”

  Kris shook her head. She needed to stay with Blake, and Tucker must have felt the same way, for he wouldn’t let go of her even when Arland proposed a game. With her arm around Tucker, she walked around the other side of Blake, keeping Tucker’s eyes shielded from the work being done on him. Seeing David holding Blake down sent waves of nausea through her as she remembered being caught by Chuck and his men.

  “If he’s unconscious, why are you sitting on his arms?” Kris asked, feeling protective of her husband in such a vulnerable state. He would hate this.

  “If he comes to and we aren’t restraining him, someone is bound to get hurt.” David nodded toward Laurie. “It’s going to be okay, Kris. She did the same to Dillon and he is recovering.”

  Laurie snuck a glance up at her and smiled, although it was weary and lacking the reassurance Kris wanted.

  “I got the bullet,” she said, as she sopped up more blood. “I’m pretty sure it didn’t hit anything major.”

  Pretty sure. The words rang in Kris’s ears. She trusted Laurie, but it was different with her husband under the knife. At this point, she probably wouldn’t fully trust the top surgeon in the country.

  “Is he going to be okay?”
Tucker’s voice quivered.

  “As long as we can keep away the infection, yes, I believe so.” She went back to focusing on bandaging Blake up.

  Kris reached for Blake’s outstretched hand, letting hers warm his cold fingers. She focused on his face, seeing the scratches on his cheek, and wondering what he had gone through to see them all safe.

  “Just about done.” From her bag Laurie pulled out a salve and heaped a teaspoon-size black dollop on the wound before she bandaged it up. She nodded toward David who took his weight off of Blake.

  Hannah ran over. “Laurie, we need your help with Butler. His pulse is weak. He’s lost so much blood.”

  Laurie packed her things.

  Kris reached over to grasp her arm. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I have a feeling he’ll pull through just fine. Probably just needs a forced sleep. I’ll have the men bring over your hides and blankets. He needs to be warmed up.”

  “We can do that,” Tucker said.

  “I’m sure you will. I will check on him again after I see to his friend.”

  “Butler saved Blake’s life.”

  Laurie snapped her attention back to Kris.

  “He jumped in front of the bullet that shot them both.”

  “I will do my best.” Laurie nodded. “Hannah, I need you get the angelica root from our cart. You know the one. We need to get Butler’s blood restored as quickly as possible.”

  Kris watched her leave toward the next fire over where several people stood around Butler. She issued commands like a task force captain. No leader, she shook her head. Laurie was full of it; she led like a general in an army.

  A few minutes later, David and another man brought over the hides, which they placed next to Blake, and the blankets which they handed to Kris. After the hides were set, the men lifted Blake as gently as they could and lowered him to the makeshift bed. He grunted as his body hit the ground, but he didn’t open his eyes.

  She said her thank you’s as Tucker cuddled up next to his dad. Kris situated the blankets and then joined him. After checking on Mercy who had fallen asleep again, she curled herself around her son and husband. Soon warmth filled their little bed and the frozen condition of his skin thawed to a more normal temperature.