Grant Us Mercy (Book 4): Grant Us Mercy

by Little, D. C.

  Kris’s heart sank. Yet, he didn’t say that Blake was dead. If he was still alive, there was a chance. If anyone could get them out of this, Blake could, even captured.

  “Bring the kid’s dad,” the man yelled.

  “Hank’s here, Chuck.” The man with the ruined jacket came with a guy toting a black backpack.

  “Stick around. Looks like the kid got you, too.” He turned toward Hank. “Get this arrow out of me and stitch me up. We have a bunker to raid.”

  He looked up at the sky where the birds had dissipated, reminding Kris of the impending storm. A snowstorm was the least of her worries at this moment. If she could get a big enough distraction to free Tucker and have him run to Arland’s, at least then he would be safe.

  Chuck, who seemed to be the leader, sucked in a breath as Hank broke the arrow and pulled it out.

  “I can’t believe you guys let that kid get the best of you,” Hank said as he jammed a cloth onto both sides of Chuck’s wound.

  “You didn’t see him. He’s like some sort of ten-year-old Robin Hood,” Chuck said, almost good-naturedly.

  “Ha! By the time I’m actually ten, I could use a bow that would have killed you,” Tucker said.

  “See? I’m telling you, we need this kid with us. I can see the whole ploy now. Poor starved boy begging for food, and then, Wham, he turns Tasmanian devil and wipes them out and, we get all of their supplies.” Chuck laughed and Hank shook his head.

  “You and your ploys, boss.” Hank said. “Need a stick? Both the hand and the cheek will need stitches.”

  “Nah, just do it.”

  A heavy slump with a grunt took Kris’s attention off of the men. She gasped when she saw what the newcomers had dropped—Blake.

  “Dad!” Tucker struggled against his ropes.

  “Quiet down, boy. He’s alive,” Chuck said before bracing himself for Hank’s administrations.

  Kris watched Blake. His chest rose, but the back of his head and his arm oozed. She couldn’t see his face. It was a shock to see her husband she once thought invincible in a bloody, banged up heap. As much as she wanted to hang her head and cry, she had to stay strong for her children. Blake was alive. There was hope.

  As much as she didn’t want to be vulnerable with the men around, she knew she could keep Mercy from fussing by feeding her. In the privacy of the wrap, she fed her daughter while sitting next to her son and doing her best just to breathe and find calm in the situation.

  At least an hour had passed since the arrival of the men on her property, maybe more. She could feel the cold seep into her even with the adrenaline that raced through her. Tucker shook, whether from shock, fear, or the cold, she didn’t know.

  Mercy settled, and Kris skootched closer to her son, wrapping an arm around him.

  “No funny business.” Chuck eyed them as Hank finished the last knot in his stitches.

  “He’s cold,” she said simply.

  Blake stirred, and she held her breath.

  “Perfect timing. Thanks, Doc.” Chuck nodded at Hank and stood up, making his way toward Blake. He nudged him with his foot. “Wakey. Wakey, Rambo.”

  Blake tried to kick at the man, but his hands and feet were tied. After a few moments of struggling, he stopped.

  “Where’s my family?” His voice was a hardened growl.

  “We’re here,” Kris called out.

  In a movement she hadn’t thought possible, Blake shimmied onto his knees and turned toward them. His face was a mass of bruises, his left eye swollen shut, his lips bleeding.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded, biting her lip to keep herself from crying.

  “I’ve been worse, Krista. It’ll be fine.” As swollen as his face was, it was hard to tell, but it looked like he tried to smile.

  “Dad,” Tucker said, his voice trembling. The boy’s hero lay bleeding before him, and Kris wished she could hide the image from her son.

  “You did exceptional, Champ.”

  “I’d say you trained him well,” Chuck said. “Okay, enough with the reuniting Hallmark scene. Let’s get down to business.”

  “Let them go,” Blake said between clenched teeth.

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to negotiate.” The guy stood and held open his arms. “You may have killed a half dozen of my men or more, and your spitfire son may have injured most the rest of us, but I have more coming. We have the guns and your family. So let’s try this again.”

  Chuck squatted in front of him, though far enough away that Blake couldn’t touch him.

  “What exactly do you want?” Blake asked.

  “The code to your bunker.”

  “Surely you have other ways of getting inside, otherwise you wouldn’t have traveled so far to find them.”

  “We do, but it’s winter, and I would like a warm place to ride it out.” Chuck smiled, and Kris had an uneasy feeling that this man wasn’t well in the head.

  “Maybe you should find a different one. Ours isn’t suitable to for an outfit of your size.”

  Chuck laughed. “They can stay in the house or in a tent for all I care.”

  “Let my family go, then I will give you the code.”

  “Yeah, I can’t do that Rambo. You see I don’t trust you, and besides I’ve grown quite fond of your family. Your boy I think is still young enough to convert, and your wife, well, there are not too many women left, especially of her caliber.”

  “They aren’t yours for the taking.” Blake growled out the words.

  “Give me the code.”

  “No.”

  Chuck closed the gap between them in less than a second, his good fist hammering down on Blake’s cheek.

  “Don’t touch my dad!” Tucker yelled.

  Blake’s head whipped back up to glare at Chuck.

  “I usually let the inhabitants go,” Chuck said, shaking out his hand. “Your family just has really surprised me. With so many losses, I need compensation.” He squatted down and cocked his head. “Let’s try this again. Give me the code.”

  “No,” Blake said, squaring his shoulders the best he could.

  Chuck nodded at one of the other guys. He came up, gut punched Blake in the stomach with his rifle, and then knocked him on the side of his face.

  “Stop it!” Tucker yelled.

  Kris averted her eyes and tried to cover Tucker’s, but he shrugged out of her hand, doing his best to crawl with his hands behind him to get to his dad. She wanted to comfort him, but what could she say?

  Blake slowly shifted until he was on his knees again.

  “You have endurance. I’ll give you that.” Chuck shook his head.

  Something cold landed on Kris’s cheek and she saw a snowflake land on Mercy’s head. The storm was starting.

  Chuck noticed as well. “I’ve run out of patience. Thanks to your son, my head and hand are killing me, and I just want to get into that bunker and ride out this storm. So, one last time,” Chuck took a pistol from one of the other men and held it to Blake’s head. “What is the code?”

  “Just give him the code, Dad. It’s just the bunker,” Tucker pleaded.

  “It’s not worth it,” Kris added.

  “Your family is smart. So what do you say? You going to end this nightmare and tell me the code?”

  Blake shook his head. He peered at them and hung his head. Then he looked straight at Chuck.

  “Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way.” Chuck closed the gap between him and Kris and her kids. He held the gun pointed at them. “What about now?”

  Kris held her breath. Tucker tensed beside her. Even Mercy struggled in the wrap, reaching out toward her dad. Her whole body tensed as if she pulled from her innermost depths.

  “Dada!” Mercy called out, clear as day.

  Blake’s head swiveled toward his daughter.

  Mercy’s impeccable timing to say her first word may have just saved their lives. While watching her husband, Kris prayed for it to be so.
<
br />   ~*~

  Blake couldn’t believe his ears. His daughter just said her first word, and it was his name! He had missed that first word with Tuck, but he hadn’t with Mercy, and he didn’t want to miss anything else. He took a deep breath and nodded.

  “You’ll let them live?” Blake asked. All he cared about right now was his family’s safety. He wanted to hear Mercy’s words, each one of them. He wanted to see the elation in Tucker’s eyes when he accomplished a task. He wanted to see the love in Kris’s eyes when their gazes met.

  “If you all behave,” Chuck said, a smile of victory already spreading across his lips.

  Blake glanced back at his family as they all watched him. Giving away this information might be his death warrant, but it might also be the only way to keep his family alive.

  Blake nodded. “Alright. There is plenty enough in there to compensate. So you can let them go.”

  Chuck stood. “This might have been the hardest bunker to acquire yet, boys, but we got it, and if I am right, we just hit bank!”

  He turned triumphantly, but as he did a shot rang out, and then another and another. Chuck fell to the ground, his open eyes staring blankly at Blake.

  Blake rolled over to his family, doing his best to cover them, but ended up with Kris covering them all.

  The shots came from the northeast of their property. Somehow he didn’t think it was from the same group, Especially with three of Chuck’s men on the ground, unmoving.

  “In my boot,” Blake whispered urgently.

  Kris slid her hand down his leg and loosened the tiny knife he kept hidden there. In a matter of moments, his hands were free. He took the knife from her, sliced the binding around his ankles and then made quick work of the ropes around Tucker’s hands.

  Immediately, Tucker threw his arms around him. Blake pulled him and Kris and Mercy into his arms. While shots fired around them, all he could do was hold his family and pray. The image of Jake holding his family that day ripped through Blake as he held his.

  A moment later, Arland was by their side. “Are you guys alright?”

  Blake stared at his friend with tears burning his eyes. “You came?”

  “We came as soon as we heard the first shots. We don’t leave a friend behind. You aren’t alone.”

  With that one statement, a torrent of emotion flooded Blake. He grasped his family to him. Nothing in this world mattered beside their safety. That meant everything. And as he looked up at the men and women now surrounding them, he realized his family had just grown.

  ~9~

  Blake sat atop his favorite rock outcropping on his property. He looked over his land, his house, Tucker’s play structure, their archery practice area, and everything he had worked so hard to create for his family.

  This was where he spent part of nearly every day. Not that he would tell anyone that. Others didn’t know he took quiet moments to appreciate the beat of the world that they lived in or account for all that he was blessed with.

  Blake pushed himself to an upright position on the jumbled rock formation. He liked looking over his property, remembering it and life as it once was, a simple safety that felt so far behind him, a life blind and ignorant to its fragility.

  He shook his head. No. He needed to remember it as it was. For this just might be the last time he could. In only minutes he would be leaving it behind: the memories, the safety, and the past.

  He threw his pack over his shoulder, and with one long glance, he joined the rest of the group headed back toward Arland’s camp. They had cleaned out the bunker, taking whatever food, tools, and other supplies they hadn’t stashed already. Everyone was loaded down and some even pulled travois full of supplies. Cleaning out the bunker had been an easy choice for him. It was either take what was left and share it with the people who treated them as their own or leave it for the next group of marauders.

  Besides, he had all that mattered with him. He searched until he found his wife holding their daughter and their son, bow over his shoulder. The land, the house, the bunker, none of that mattered. His family was the only thing that did.

  Arland came up beside him and slapped his back. “Well, brother. Let’s go home.”

  Home, Blake realized, went everywhere with him. It wasn’t a location. It wasn’t just one place. If he was beside his family, no matter where that might be, he was home. He would follow home anywhere and through any trial. They were his everything.

  *********

  I hope you enjoyed the Chantry’s story of survival and finding out that not all situations can be planned for and family is more important than anything.

  Stay tuned for Installment Five where the Chantrys navigate their way to a safe location for New Forest Glen. Between group dynamics, treacherous weather conditions, and a myriad of other complications, they will struggle to find the perfect location and live off a frozen land until winter releases its death grip on them all.

  Want to read the first chapter of Installment Five now? Keep reading. A sneak peek is included!

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  You just read how Arland made his reappearance. Blake had imparted some of his knowledge with the meek scientist in Installment One. In Installment Three you saw a new side to Arland. Want to know what caused him to transform?

  Read this exclusive story!

  Grant Us Mercy:

  Arland’s Transformation

  read now!

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  Next in Grant Us Mercy

  Grant Us Mercy:

  Installment FIVE

  Winter survival without a bunker...

  Fleeing a bunker that easily could have been their demise, the Chantrys join up with Arland's New Forest Glen community...for now.

  With city marauders finding their way into their mountain home town, the community finds themselves pushed to leave much sooner than expected.

  Between group dynamics, treacherous weather conditions, and a myriad of other complications, they will struggle to find the perfect location for New Forest Glen and live off a frozen land until winter releases its death grip on them all.

  Join Blake and Kris on this action-packed fifth installment to the hair-raising journey in the post-apocalyptic serial novel, Grant Us Mercy. Every three weeks, the next installment will release and continue the survival adventures of the Chantrys.

  Grab now!

  SNEAK PEEK!!!

  Grant Us Mercy: Installment FIVE

  Chapter One (Unedited/Raw Version)

  DATE: December 2 09:12

  What in the world?

  An arrow landed two feet in front of Blake. He heard its whistling warning in time to duck behind a tree. Where had that come from? The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Doing his morning patrol to check on the guards at the perimeter had never been this eventful.

  He didn’t think the arrow had come from one of the city marauders. They used guns. Besides, it came from the direction of camp. After ensuring no more arrows were careening toward him, Blake stepped out and plucked the arrow that had pierced deep into the ground. Near the feathers were two red stripes with a black dot in the middle.

  Tucker.

  He peered into the direction where it had flown from. The brush moved a hundred yards down the hill before two boys came pushing their way through it.

  “I told you I could shoot far,” Tucker’s voice traveled to him.

  “No way your arrow made it this far. We must have passed it already.” An older boy about ten stomped past Tucker, a scowl on his face.

  “No, it
came this way.”

  The other boy stopped in front of Tucker and shoved his hands on his hips. “You think just because you’re the son of The Survivalist you’re better than us.”

  “No, I don’t. I just shoot better than you because I’ve practiced more.” Tucker didn’t back down from the boy who towered over him.

  Blake watched, breathing down his desire to end the altercation at once by putting the older boy in his place. He didn’t want Tucker to be bullied, but he also knew boys, and if he stepped in, it would be difficult for Tucker to live down his dad rescuing him.

  So, Blake planted his feet and watched, wondering when he would be seen. He thought he had seen Tucker glance in his direction, but the boy acted as if he hadn’t seen him.

  “Whatever, pipsqueak, you aren’t better than me. You’re just a baby with a tiny bow.”

  “Then why did we find your arrow way back there, and we still haven’t found mine?” Tucker stuck his chest out. “Come on, I saw it go this way.”

  Tucker stayed to the side of the other boy, just like Blake had taught him to do. Never turn your back on someone. When Blake saw the other boy throw a punch, he sucked in a breath ready to shout, but Tucker ducked as if he expected the attack and rolled, kicking out the other boy’s feet.

  The boy landed roughly. Tuck stood over him, but not close enough to be touched. Once he saw the boy wasn’t coming at him anymore, he looked up and connected eyes with Blake. His son’s lower lip trembled, but his eyes held determination as he looked back down to the other boy.

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Darius. Let’s just go get my arrow.” Tucker reached out a hand to help the boy up, but Blake saw that Tucker’s stance was ready if Darius decided to do something tricky.

  Darius rolled and pushed up on his own. He wiped at his eyes and glared at Tucker. “Wait until I tell my dad what you did. You are going to be in trouble. No one will believe you shot past me anyway, you can’t even find your arrow.”