The thought of a warm shower soothed her, but guilt came with it. No one at that camp had had a hot shower for over a year now. The idea made her feel woozy. No hot water. No shower. Yet, that’s what they would face living out in the forest like Tucker foresaw.
Maybe it had passed. Tucker hadn’t said anything more about it. He hadn’t seemed nervous or upset when he saw Mercy’s teeth pop out. This line of thinking would drive her mad. Instead she just focused on the moment, enjoying watching Tucker speeding through the trees.
Blake walked back to them from a perimeter check. He had taken off his coat, his arms bare to the cold. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and Mercy, thinking of how cold that must feel. Blake, though, didn’t have a trace of goosebumps.
“All clear. How are things here?” Blake asked, picking up Tuck as he ran into his arms. “You still have energy to burn off?”
“Tons!” Tucker squealed as Blake hung him upside down over his shoulder.
“How about you show Mom how you can find all three cache pits?”
“Okay!”
“All three?” Kris asked, watching her boys while love filled her. She wouldn’t change how close they had become for the world. It warmed her heart, making the chill a little easier to bear.
“Yep. Number one: Little robin listen to me, start at the twisted tree and count to three. One. Two. Three. See the apples high in the boughs, follow them down two rows.”
Kris followed him as he completed the riddle to find the location. Of course, as he stood over the prized spot, there was no marker indicating he was correct. Well, except the look of pride on his father’s face.
“Nice work, Sweetie. You are really getting good at memorizing.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet!” Tucker said and scrunched his brows while he concentrated. “Number Two: Little squirrel on the rock what do you do? Run past big pine trees numbering two. Collect acorns as you go, and look to see where they grow.”
Tucker made his way through the trees around rocks until he stood with his little chest puffed out on the second spot Blake had hidden their supplies.
“This one could get tough later depending on how big this oak tree gets.” Tuck touched the leaves of the tree no taller than him.
“Well done, Tuck,” Blake said. “Yes, as the oak tree grows this one will be tougher to get at. All the better to hide it, right? Now we haven’t practiced three for very long. Do you think you can do it?”
Kris enjoyed watching the pride that filled the boy at meeting a challenge his dad threw at him. He had always pushed himself to meet the expectations of others and of himself. He had turned it from academics to survival scenarios very quickly.
“Little stellar jay picking up sticks, count the madrone trees numbering six.” Tuck stopped, stuck his tongue out while he concentrated, and then finished the riddle and his steps. “Build your nest in me, says the tall fir tree.”
“Yes!” Blake high-fived him. “You remember those in the years to come, and one day it just may save you and your sister.”
“What about you and mom?” Tucker’s euphoria dimmed as he looked between them.
“It could save us, too, Sweetie. I think what Dad means is that you may be the one to come get them, right?”
“Yeah. We don’t know what lies ahead of us in this life, Champ. All we can do is be prepared and learn skills that will help in every situation.”
“Including how to stay calm in intense situations.” Kris gave him a hug. “I’m very proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too, Mom.” Tucker kissed her on the cheek.
Kris stood, shock and love overwhelming her. “Why?”
“Maybe he means because of your strength of mind.” Blake took her hand as they walked back to the bunker. The riddles took them a good half-mile away.
“What does strength of mind mean?” Tucker asked as he ran up to catch them.
Blake stopped and looked at Tucker. “It means when it seems all odds are up against you, your body feels like it can’t go on, your fear tells you that you won’t make it, you keep pushing on.”
“Oh, like Mom did when little sister was born.”
“Exactly like that.” Blake dropped her hand to muss their son’s hair and then wrapped his arm around her.
Kris warmed inside, knowing that her boys thought so much of her. Strength of mind really was a trait that led to success and thriving, especially in the situation they found themselves in right now.
They ambled back to their warm bunker arm-in-arm, feeling like even in a post-apocalyptic world, life wasn’t all that bad.
That was until a beep from their remote froze them all in their tracks. Within a moment, their life had taken a drastic change. Kris could feel the cold travel from her toes all throughout her until her heart almost stopped. Her eyes found Blake’s in a frozen moment of fear.
He yanked the remote off his pants. “It’s at the gate.”
Kris pulled Tucker to her, his eyes round, and for once he was silent. The bunker was still about two hundred yards away and in the direction of the gate. Could they make it in time?
Blake grabbed her by both shoulders, the jar waking Mercy who whimpered. She had been fussy the last couple days. Her cries, and Blake’s earnestness, woke Kris out of shock.
“You have to run. Take the kids to the bunker.” Blake’s gaze was intense, full of urgency.
“What about you?” Fear shrilled her voice. Blake would do something stupid to keep them safe.
“I’m going to do my best to keep them away from you.” He pressed his lips against hers. “I love you, Krista.” He kissed Mercy with a sheen in his eyes and kissed the top of Tucker’s head quickly.
“We should stay together, Dad.”
“You take care of your mom and sister. Now run!” He gave Tucker a little shove and took off in the opposite direction.
“We always return to each other!” Tucker called out after him.
Kris whispered it too, but Blake hardly paused in his urgent quest. Her heart lurched as she grabbed up Tucker’s hand, readjusted the shotgun so she could run, and tugged him toward the bunker. In a few steps, he pulled his hand out and stopped.
“We have to go, Sweetie.”
“He didn’t say it...” Tuck’s lip trembled, but then he pulled off the bow he constantly wore anytime he was outside and nocked an arrow. “Let’s go.”
“That’s my boy,” Kris said and kissed him.
She squeezed an arm around Mercy in the wrap and they took off in a run toward the bunker. Shots echoed across their property. She and Tuck stopped.
“Dad,” he whispered.
Tears stung at Kris’s eyes, but as more shots rang out, she urged her son to keep going. They were almost there, but she pulled Tucker to a stop at the edge of the apple trees. Three men stood at the rock pile that hid their bunker door.
The men looked up at them, their frozen movements showing their shock.
Her heart racing, she pulled up the shotgun, aiming at the men. Her hands shook as she reached for the safety. Mercy cried. The sound stopped her in horror. What would the blast do to her baby? She didn’t want to cause Mercy to go deaf.
Before she could stop him, Tucker had released his arrow, hitting one man in the shoulder. The man’s yowl sent the hairs on the back of her neck raising.
“Get them,” another yelled.
Her hands shook so much she couldn’t get the safety off or load the chamber. Ice ran through her veins. “Run, Tucker! Run!”
Tucker stood his ground only a moment before he took off through the forest. Kris followed as closely as she could with Mercy held close into her, screaming her displeasure. Doom closed in on her as she heard heavy steps behind her. A moment later her neck burned with the grasp of a rough hand.
Kris twisted, swung at the man with the shotgun, and kicked out. The man grunted as the barrel of her gun glanced off his shoulder before ripping out of her hands and flying across the ground.
Despite the blow, he tightened his hold on her. She continued to fight with every ounce of her strength while protecting the baby wrapped against her. When she felt the cold metal against her cheek, though, she froze. The reality of being captured settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach.
Blake would come for her, if he survived, Tucker, too, and she just might be the death of them both. She hung her head, praying for an act of mercy. She had to keep her children safe.
~*~
Blake ran toward the group of armed men climbing over his gate. There were close to a dozen men on this side of the gate. A few of them started toward the house which sent Blake out of his training and into protecting mode. He had to keep them away from his family.
A roar erupted from his throat as he opened fire on the group. The men that could, ran for cover, but Blake continued in a suicidal run toward the others until they had found shelter and started returning fire.
A bullet grazed his shoulder, burning across his skin. He fell to the ground and rolled until he could stand behind a tree. When he was safe, he glanced at his arm, seeing that that the bullet only scratched him. He flattened himself against the tree as bullets flew past him. His heart raced as he did his best to get into controlled fighting mode, but all he could think about was his family. Had they made it to the bunker? Would they be safe there?
The firing stopped. Blake peered out. Watchfully the surviving men, about a half dozen, were checking those that had fallen. From what he could see, he had taken at least four or more out. The three that had taken off toward his family were not amongst them.
He banged the back of his head on the tree, murmuring an oath beneath his breath. Pulling out another magazine from his cargo pocket, he reloaded his pistol. It was his last magazine. He had to make each shot count. He took a steadying breath. Getting to his family would be key.
He readied himself for another run, but this time covertly. He peered around the trunk of the pine that had saved his life, cocked and aimed his gun. Two shots. Run. He blew out his breath, aimed at the man holding a rifle pointed toward the tree he hid behind. Blake fired two shots as he ran for the cover of the next tree, getting him that much closer to his family.
Shots fired after him, but stopped as he hid behind the next tree. They must be short on ammo, too. In this survival situation, you couldn’t afford to waste bullets. He checked his clip, thirteen more. Two shots. Run. He followed the same protocol until he made it to where he could see the rock outcropping where the bunker hid.
What he saw made his heart stop and his mouth go dry.
A man had his wife and baby daughter, a handgun shoved into her cheek. Blake’s blood boiled as his hands squeezed his gun until his knuckles refused any more pressure. He evened his breathing and looked again. No sign of Tucker. Movement on the other side of the forest caught his attention.
Tucker.
The boy had his bow raised, peeking out from behind a tree. Blake now could see the several arrows he had stuck in the ground before him. He planned on rescuing his mom. Blake started to step out to stop him. What if Tucker missed and hit his mom or sister?
A single shot sent him cowering behind the tree again, leaving him only able to watch as his son tried to be the hero that he had pushed him to be. Tucker was right, they shouldn’t have split up. They would have had a better chance going together with Blake covering them while they made it into the bunker. Now, he had to figure out a way to rescue them.
He checked his clip just in case he had miscounted, but it was empty. There was nothing he could do.
Every inch of his body tensed as he watched Tucker on the other side of where Kris was held hostage. He held his breath while he saw his son cock his head like he did every time right before he released the arrow.
The arrow flew straight at the unsuspecting man holding a gun against Kris. The man screamed, dropped the gun he held on Kris, and grabbed his face, blood pouring through his fingers. With bated breath, Blake watched Kris use the distraction to her advantage. She kicked out, dropped the guy to the ground, and grabbed for the gun.
Blake quietly praised her while she pointed the unfamiliar weapon back at him.
The man rose to his knees, holding his face, and spouting words that Kris shouldn’t have to hear. The man glared at her. The look in his eyes must have been terrifying for Kris’s hands started to shake.
“Don’t you move,” Kris said with more conviction that Blake thought she would have.
“Your family is crazy, lady.” He spat and wiped at his oozing cheek. “But you’re not going to win in the end. I have more men coming.”
“That doesn’t do you any good right now, does it?”
“Oh, you’re going to shoot me?” He laughed, a cruel, menacing sound and stood.
“If you come toward me, I will.”
Blake watched, immobilized by the inability to do anything to help his wife who so bravely stood her ground.
“Do it,” the man said with a smile as he reached for her.
Blake held his breath. He started to move toward her, but a shot chipped the bark the second he moved.
Kris hit the trigger over and over, but only clicks resounded.
“You’ve got spunk. Too bad there aren’t any bullets left.” He went to reach for the gun, but another arrow whipped in and pierced his hand clean through. The man screamed again, holding his hand. “Someone get that crazy junior Robin Hood!”
Two more men took off toward Tucker. That was the last straw for Blake, he might get a few bullets in him, but he wasn’t going to let them get his boy. His muscles bunched in, ready to jump out from behind the tree when a sound crunched behind him.
Blake spun and ducked at the same time. A rifle butt barely missed his head, cracking into the trunk instead. He kicked out and knocked the man to the ground, but in his distraction Blake missed the second man whose fist pummeled him to the ground.
The hit sent sparks behind his eyes, but he came up yelling, going full body into the man. They fell to the ground in a heap of writhing fists and knees and elbows. Finally, they ended up with Blake on top, grabbing for his knife.
He heard the air whistling too late and the blinding white pain lanced his head before the world turned dark.
~*~
When the arrow pierced the man’s hand, Kris had taken advantage of the distraction and ran toward her son, fear propelling her feet in urgency. Mercy screamed as Kris tightened her arm around her baby’s jostling body, but she needed to get to Tucker.
Only a few more yards and she would be there. The boy released three more arrows at the men running toward them, and with each release, she heard a grunt or cry of pain. All out of arrows, he now held his bow like a sword and waved it at the men still coming at them.
Before she could pull Tucker into an embrace, she was grabbed from behind by strong arms that pulled her hands behind her in a grip that brought tears to her eyes. Luckily the wrap kept Mercy safe against her but she could only watch while two others grabbed her wildly fighting boy. He kicked, punched, and bit, but eventually they had him, face down in the duff and hands pinned at his back.
“This one is half-wild,” one man said.
“Half? He’s like a crazy wild Indian. He ruined my jacket, and I’ll probably have to stitch up my arm.”
“Let go of me! Leave my mom and sister alone!” Tucker yelled and squirmed, though Kris knew every move hurt his arms, for hers screamed almost as loudly as her daughter.
A circle of birds flew overhead, unnaturally cawing and squawking, seeming to yell at the men below.
“What in the world is going on?” The man with the oozing wound on his cheek and an arrow still in his hand looked up at the birds and then to her. “We could have done this peacefully.”
“You come onto our property armed and ready to take what is not yours and you expect a peaceful welcome? You are the crazy one.”
“We have mouths to feed, too, my dear.” He smiled in a way that made her think
he really was crazy.
“Then go and hunt like everyone else who is trying to survive.” She leveled him with a hard glare.
“Oh, we are hunting.”
A chill ran down her spine, the shivering making her arms sear in pain.
The man grabbed his head with his good hand. “This racket is too much. Quiet that baby and your son, and someone make those birds leave!”
“Let me go so I can!” Kris said as she tried to free her arms.
The man with the arrow in his hand nodded. It was good to know who was in charge. The fact that he hadn’t outright killed Tucker for what he had done to him was a good sign, and one Kris would use while she tried to find a way to keep them alive...until Blake rescued them. If Blake was still alive.
All that shooting.... Her blood ran cold. What if they had killed him?
Her hands now free, she rubbed Mercy’s back and murmured soothing sounds while she took small steps toward the still struggling Tucker. With Mercy now only whimpering, she kneeled next to her son.
“Save your energy, Sweetie. You did well.”
Seeing his face smooshed in the dirt and the wild fear dancing in his eyes made her heart ache. With her hands she motioned, calm, surveillance, and then the I love you sign. That one Blake didn’t teach them, but it was just as important as the others.
Tucker settled, and the men relaxed their hold slightly.
“You better tie that one up. He’s a dangerous little brute. Get me Hank so he can patch me up.”
The man squatted in front of Tucker, whose arms were now tied behind his back. “You still might be trainable, boy. I would have a use for a guy like you.”
Tucker glared at him. Kris had never seen such a hard look in her young son’s eyes, and it tore at her heart.
“You just wait until my dad gets his hands on you. He is going to be so mad that you have us.”
The man smiled, one of those smiles that make you wish you could wash after seeing it. “Oh, you don’t know yet. We already have your dad, Rambo man and all. He’s still mortal, just like you.”
Grant Us Mercy (Book 4): Grant Us Mercy Page 8
