Lord Have Mercy

by Gen Griffin

  Lord Have Mercy

  A Possum Creek Novella

  GEN GRIFFIN

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Lord Have Mercy (Possum Creek)

  DEDICATION

  Also By Gen Griffin | The Possum Creek Series

  After The Apocalypse

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  WANT MORE? | CHECK OUT | Hot Southern Mess | A POSSUM CREEK NOVEL

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

  LORD HAVE MERCY

  A POSSUM CREEK NOVELLA

  Copyright © 2014 by Gen Griffin

  All rights reserved.

  ASIN: B00RO4Q7UM

  ISBN13: 978-1505861303

  ISBN-10: 1505861306

  Previously Published As Long Dead

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means — including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise — without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Permission is granted to copy or reprint portions for any noncommercial use except they may not be posted online without permission. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  DEDICATION

  To Stephen.

  Because dedicating books to you is what I do.

  To Cara.

  For finding us a name.

  To Lizz.

  For being my favorite reader and fan.

  And to all my friends who have supported me through

  the ups and downs of becoming a published author.

  I love you guys.

  Also By Gen Griffin

  The Possum Creek Series

  Hot Southern Mess

  Hissy Fit

  Hot Southern Nights

  Pretty Is As Pretty Does

  Give Me Some Sugar (Coming Soon)

  Lord Have Mercy (Prequel Novella)

  After The Apocalypse

  The Scavengers

  Church of Chaos

  False Idols

  Chapter 1

  David was almost asleep when his phone started vibrating in the pocket of his hoodie. He looked up, briefly startled out of the trance he'd let Mrs. Brewer's monotone drone lull him into as she muttered endlessly about the value of adverbs and adjectives.

  Two rows of desks ahead, Johnny Cash's version of Ghost Riders In the Sky started blaring. Mrs. Brewer abruptly stopped extolling the wonders of grammar. She glared at Cal, who was digging around in the pocket of his jeans in an effort to shut his phone up.

  David decided to use the distraction to his advantage. He pulled his own phone out and opened the offending text message. A picture of a familiar bright red Jeep Cherokee appeared on the screen. The Jeep was sunk in mud up to its headlights.

  The message itself was simple. 'Come get me. I fucked up.'

  “Fucking Addy,” David muttered under his breath. He couldn't help smiling as he slipped the phone back into his lap and looked up at the clock. Twenty minutes until 2nd period was over.

  “Mr. Walker, do you have something going on in your personal life that is more important than our class?” Mrs. Brewer was glaring down her nose at Cal.

  “Uh, no ma'am. I don't think so, anyway.” He'd gotten his phone out and was rapidly pressing down on the volume button in an attempt to silence the device.

  “Are you sure, or would you like me to check that for you?” Mrs. Brewer stepped up to Cal's desk and waggled her long, bony fingers at him.

  “I'm sure,” Cal replied. His pale cheeks were flushed pink from the embarrassment. Cal hated being called out or reprimanded in any way. He always expected everyone to kiss his ass and he never failed to be just a little bit horrified when someone didn't.

  “How can you be sure if you don't check your message?” Mrs. Brewer still had her hand out, as if she really expected Cal to hand over the phone.

  David bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

  “Because my folks would have called the school by now if it was an emergency.” Cal stuck the now silent phone back into his pocket. He leaned back in his desk chair and met the teacher's eyes with a smile full of thinly veiled defiance. The look would have been more impressive if he hadn't been crammed into the tiny desk like a summer sausage that didn't quite fit its wrapper. Cal's broad shoulders and less than delicate waistline made him a poor fit for the rigid single-piece chair and desk combinations that filled the classrooms at Possum Creek High School.

  David didn't have Cal's problem with the desks. He looked down past his own narrow chest and into his lap. He quickly swiped one finger across the screen of his phone and typed out his reply to Addison. 'Stuck in class. Give me 30 minutes. U at the creek?'

  “I suppose you're right.” Mrs. Brewer narrowed her eyes at Cal. David could almost see her weighing the odds as to whether or not it was worth it to take away the Mayor's grandson's cell phone. David was betting the answer would be 'not'. Cal rarely got in trouble for committing the same sins that the rest of the peons had to burn at the stake for.

  Never getting punished was probably the reason Cal never bothered to follow the rules.

  Never following the rules was the reason Cal was David's best friend. David grinned to himself as his phone vibrated again.

  He looked down at the message. 'Crooked view trail. Near the west end. I'll share my beer.' The photo that accompanied the text was of a lonely, slightly grubby cooler. A dozen or so beers were visible just underneath the ice.

  Mrs. Brewer let out an irritated huff and went back to yammering about nouns. Score: Calvin Walker 1, Teacher 0. No surprises there.

  David slipped his phone back into his hoodie. He glanced out the window and idly wondered what had possessed Addison to plunge his Jeep into three feet of sloppy mud on a cold, miserably soggy winter day. Then again, David rarely found a good explanation for anything Addison Malone did. The vast majority of Addison's actions seemed either completely illogical or utterly random. Sometimes both.

  The bell rang, cutting Mrs. Brewer off mid-sentence. David slipped out of his desk and snagged his backpack off the ground. He closed the distance between his own desk and Cal's before Cal had completely managed to extract himself from the desk.

  “I hate these puny things,” Cal muttered. He kicked the leg of the desk with the toe of his boot.

  “Maybe you should go on a diet,” David suggested less than helpfully.

  “Kiss my ass, you scrawny bastard.” Cal threw his own backpack over his shoulder. “It's your fault I'm getting fat. Momma keeps baking cakes and brownies, trying to put some weight on your ass. You stay bony while I keep getting fatter and fatter.”

  “Stop eating,” David told him. “Just cause Momma cooks it doesn't mean you've got to eat it.”

  “She keeps shoving it at me,” Cal complained, They walked out the classroom door and away from the prying eyes of Mrs. Brewer. He pulled out his phone. “Now, who the-?”

  “Addy.” D
avid shook his head and waved Cal's phone away. “He's got the Jeep buried in mud up to its headlights down on the west side of the creek. He texted us at the same time. My phone was on vibrate though.”

  Cal ignored David and opened the text message anyway. He whistled low under his breath as he took in the picture. “That's pretty.”

  “Yeah. I figure its going to take the rest of the day to get out there and pull him out.” David rolled his shoulders backwards, popping his back in the process. “You ain't got anything important going on during your last two classes today, do you?”

  “Not really.” Cal turned to David and gave him an easy, deceptively charming grin. “A chemistry test that I might get a 'C' on if I'm lucky.”

  “You going to fail it if you skip?” David asked.

  “It's Mowski's class. She wouldn't fail me if I skipped the rest of the semester. Pappy donates too much money to the humane society for her to risk pissing him off. She's the president of the stray cat rescue. All those mangy felines are her babies.”

  “No actually, I didn't know. I don't care, either. Political bullshit. All of it.” David began walking towards the freedom that existed beyond the metal double doors at the end of the hallway. “You riding with me to go get Malone?”

  “Why not?” Cal was only step behind him, limping slightly as they walked.

  David stopped and frowned at his best friend. “Why are you limping?”

  “My knee hurts like a mother,” Cal replied. “Its locking up on me again. I can feel that steel rod they put in my leg every time it gets below 50 degrees.”

  “You know that knee is going to fuck with you for the rest of your life, right?” David reached into his backpack and pulled out a small bottle of ibuprofen. He tossed it at Cal, who caught it easily with his left hand.

  “Yeah. I know. Doctor already told Momma that I'm probably going to have to have it replaced by the time I'm 30. Stupid freaking trailer trash linebacker asshole. You know he broke my leg on purpose.” Cal dumped several pills into his palm and then into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

  “I watched him do it,” David reminded him.

  “Everyone in the entire school watched him do it,” Cal replied with a vicious scowl. He handed the pill bottle back to David. “You're not supposed to tackle your own teammates.”

  “I made him pay for it, didn't I?” David asked.

  Cal stayed frowning for a minute but then nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. You did. Ol' Kenny Bushman looked good in that neck brace too.”

  “I heard he lost control of his car,” David said smoothly. “Ran off the road and flipped.”

  “I heard his brakes and his steering failed at the same time,” Cal said as the two of them exchanged a conspiratorial look.

  “Maybe he should have maintained his car better.” David managed to sound almost thoughtful as he said it.

  Cal smiled and shook his head. He pushed the heavy metal doors open and the two of them stepped out into the parking lot. David shivered as the cold wind blasted over them.

  “Addy's a moron.” David jammed his hands inside his pockets. “Its too damn cold to be playing in the mud.”

  “Its not that cold. You want my big hunting jacket?” Cal rolled his eyes at David. Cal rarely wore anything heavier than a hoodie. Today he had on a Possum Creek Football t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that looked like they had seen significantly better days.

  David considered his options as another icy blast of air rippled through the trees at the edge of the parking lot. He hated cold weather and, in his opinion, any day where the low was under 80 degrees was considered cold weather. “You got it in your truck?”

  “Yes,” Cal nodded. They were rapidly approaching his dark blue single-cab Chevy pick-up.

  “Then yeah, I want it. I'm freezing my fucking ass off. I can't get warm,” he admitted as he rubbed his hands against his arms.

  Cal yanked the driver's side door of his truck open and pulled out a heavy camouflage jacket. He tossed it to David. “Pansy.”

  “Damn right.” David threw his backpack into the cab of Cal's truck. He tugged the jacket on over his hoodie. It fit him like a puffy camouflage dress and it smelled like strawberries and cream. David wrinkled his nose. “I smell fruity,” he complained.

  “Considering that Gracie wears that jacket a hell of a lot more than I do, I can't say I'm surprised.” Cal was digging around behind the seat of his truck.

  David buried his hands in the pockets of the jacket, only to find them full of miscellaneous clutter. He pulled the offending objects loose so he could look at them. A tube of disturbingly bright pink lip gloss, a crumpled $5 bill, a gas station receipt, a loose purple button, a couple of pennies and a pair of spectacularly cheap pink and red earrings in the shape of butterflies. “Who was dumb enough to give Gracie butterflies?” David asked as he held up the earrings.

  “One of the girls at the church. They all had to give one another gifts as part of some kind of womens' group activity.” Cal shrugged as he pulled a battered camouflage hoodie out from behind the driver's seat of the truck. “Granny Pearl thinks Gracie needs to make female friends and that forced participation in girly activities is going to be the best the way to make those friendships happen.”

  “Yeah, right.” David snorted back a laugh. “Gracie doesn't like other girls.”

  “They don't like her much either, to be fair.” Cal ran one hand across the steering wheel of his truck. He had a regretful expression on his face. “You know I can't drive today. If Dad rides past the school and he sees my truck is gone, he'll flip shit.”

  “I figured we'd take mine,” David confirmed with a nod. “I can't believe none of them church folks have said anything about Gracie dating you. She's not even in high school until next year.”

  “No one ever says anything about me and Gracie. I'm a saint, remember?” Cal slammed the door shut on the Chevy and they began walking towards the very back of the parking lot to where David's black Ford truck was waiting. “Besides, we've been together since she was in second grade and I was in fifth.”

  “I think everyone thought y'alls relationship was a joke back then,” David said.

  “Gracie and I didn't.” Cal stared up at the cloudy sky. “I'm going to marry her after we graduate.”

  “I know,” David said.

  “You're going to be the best man. Gracie and I have already talked about it.”

  “Fun.” David grimaced as they reached the Ford. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the driver's side door. “Why me and not Addy?”

  “Gracie's afraid he'll lose the rings.”

  “Valid concern.” David popped the passenger's door open from the inside of the cab.

  “Hey! Where are y'all headed?” A familiar voice called out from several cars over.

  Cal hesitated with his hand still on the door of the truck. “Woods,” he admitted after a second.

  “Y'all going without me?” Ian McIntyre jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his neatly pressed blue jeans as he walked over to the Ford. He was wearing a thick red and black plaid flannel jacket and he'd pulled a black beanie hat over his short ginger hair. His blue eyes were bloodshot and watery.

  “Figured you should be in class,” David said, not unkindly. Ian was his little cousin and one of very few biological family members that David could actually stand to be around for more than 2 minutes.

  “Why bother going to class?” Ian asked glumly. “I have algebra 3rd period and there ain't no way I'm going to pass it.”

  “You could try to pass it,” Cal suggested.

  “Won't happen. All those x's and y's read like some other language to me. I figure I'm going to fail it this semester and re-take it when Katie takes it. She'll get me through it. Katie always knows how to explain everything so that it makes sense.” Ian looked over at David ruefully. “I ain't smart like you are.”

  “No one ever said I was smart,” David replied mildly.

  “Oh bullshit,” Cal
snorted. “Have you missed an honor roll yet?”

  “I've never made it to a ceremony.”

  “Not the same difference.”

  “Who are you to talk?” David asked Cal. “You've made it to all the ceremonies.”

  “I'm the good kid.”

  “Of course you are.” David rolled his eyes.

  “Y'all are both a heck of a lot smarter than me,” Ian said miserably. “I hate school. They're talking about holding me back again this year. If that happens, I won't graduate until I'm almost 20.”

  “It might help if you'd go to class,” David told him. A loud bell echoed through the air, signaling that third period had officially begun.

  “It would be even more helpful if he'd go to class sober,” Cal added. He raised one eyebrow at Ian. “Or are you just hanging around in the back of the parking lot because you like the view?”

  “Naw. I got some Wild Turkey in my pocket. Y'all want some?” Ian pulled a 20 oz soda bottle out of the depths of the jacket he was wearing and held it out to Cal. “It ain't mixed real strong.”

  Cal took the bottle and unscrewed the lid. He sniffed the air directly above the mouth of the bottle and then took a swallow of the liquid. “It's strong enough,” he said as he passed the bottle to David.

  David downed half the drink in a single gulp without flinching. He lowered the drink to find that both Ian and Cal were staring at him. David stared back at them until Ian lowered his eyes and looked away.

  “Speaking of drunk, guess who offered us beer if we come rescue him?” David waved the mixed-drink soda bottle at Cal.

  Cal laughed. “The beer is probably responsible for this problem in the first place.”

  “What are y'all talking about?” Ian asked.

  “Addy's got himself stuck on the trails back behind Dad's trailer,” David explained. “He's sunk the Jeep. We're fixing to go pull him out.”

  “Oh. Cool. I'll come with y'all.” Ian smiled at them and then frowned at the Ford. “Y'all are going to use this to pull Addy out?”

  “Can't really risk taking my truck. We'd get caught if my folks noticed it was gone,” Cal explained. “You sure you shouldn't go to class?”