Grant Us Mercy (Book 2): Grant Us Mercy

by Little, D. C.

  GRANT

  US

  MERCY

  A Post-Apocalyptic Serial Novel:

  I n s t a l l m e n t T W O

  D C L I T T L E

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2019 DC Little, Little Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  DEDICATION

  To my Mountain MacGyver who inspires me every day and my special boy who sees things others only wish they could.

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ~1~

  ~2~

  ~3~

  ~4~

  ~5~

  ~6~

  ~7~

  ~8~

  ~9~

  ~10~

  ~11~

  Free Book!

  Next in Grant Us Mercy

  SNEAK PEEK!!!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Wow! What a journey this has been! I have to say my first thank you to the wonderful lady, talented author, fierce mama, and supportive friend, Heather Yates, for encouraging me to go forth with my dream of writing Post-Apocalyptic even though it is so different from the genre I found my success in.

  Of course, I need to thank my writer’s group, Women Writers of the Well. Without all of your support and encouragement I still would be writing stories for my eyes only. It’s been fun sharing this series with you every step along the way!

  A heart-felt thank you to my fantastic editor, Dianne McCleery. Without your guidance and keen eye, my books wouldn’t be near as clean and consistent! And my ARC readers whose encouragement feeds me during those dry spells.

  Thanks to my mom for her unwavering support and encouragement. And a special thanks for my Sis, whose namesake will be making a special star appearance later on in the series.

  And of course, where would I be without the two main men in my life! Thank you, My Love, for helping me with all the nuances of natural disasters and survival thinking. Your support in this project keeps me going strong. Thank you, My Little Love, for understanding how important Mommy’s writing time is and being excited whenever I receive one of my books in the mail.

  ~1~

  DATE: October 14 11:37

  Silence filled the bunker, the type of silence Kris thought would exist in a tomb. Empty. Void of life. She looked up at the ceiling knowing yards of dirt separated her from the life that still forged on up there.

  She couldn’t hear the crickets chirping, nor wind singing through the trees. She didn’t understand the absoluteness of silence until spending time in the bunker. Moving closer to her son’s body wrapped around her, she took solace in hearing the slight whisper of his breath.

  The urge to open a window and look out about drove her mad. Had the rain come with enough ferocity to douse the raging fire? Or were those flames right now devouring her land, her home, and her memories?

  She untangled herself from Tucker who had refused to sleep alone in the hammock and quietly sat on the edge of the thin, springy mattress. Her son rustled in the bed, snuggling into the warm spot she had just vacated. The air tensed, and though she couldn’t see her hand in front of her, she knew her movement had awoken Blake on the other side of the bed.

  Kris froze. The last thing she wanted was a conversation with him. There was too much to say, too many emotions living behind those words to be useful. She needed space.

  Her gaze roamed the pitch black, closed-in box holding her family. She couldn’t see the restricting walls, but she could feel their cold metal presence. The only thing she didn’t have right now was space.

  The darkness enveloped her, and she hoped Blake would fall back asleep. Her breath came silently, long and deep. The air tasted stale and dense. What she wouldn’t give to go outside and breathe the pine-scented breeze.

  To her dismay the sheet rustled, and the unmistakable pure manly scent of her husband came on waves of air caused by his movement. Her body reacted, and an instant need to be in his arms and comforted washed over her.

  Her mind though, reinforced the invisible wall between them, a wall as dark as the space surrounding them. She wanted to focus on anything besides him and settled on the throbbing of her injured hand.

  His presence invaded her barriers, overwhelming her with the heat of his torso moving to rest on the squeaky mattress next to her. He turned on the dim, red light on the wall next to the bed. It illuminated his naked, sculpted chest in a soft glow. Why did he have to sleep in his underwear? Couldn’t he at least have worn a shirt?

  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 gravely 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 lined her voice, but with one look of 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 though, 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, his barefooted steps sounding like walking on a sticky kitchen floor. It hadn’t even been half a day and he already acted like a caged animal. He turned his eyes back on 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 put some aloe in it 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 into 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 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 would 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 on 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.

  ~2~

  Blake avoided the glare Kris sent him. He didn’t need her anger. There was enough to worry about without crazy notions about firearms. The power in the bunker had kicked on last night. Why had it gone out? He tapped the battery packs one more time and checked the camera screen out of habit only to find it still unnervingly dark.

  Would he open the door to flames, foe, or a rabid wild bear? Being blind did not suit him. He walked to the door, set his hand on the cold steel, unsure of what he could feel through the thick metal.

  “Dad, I got your back.” Tucker’s voice had grown so much over the last year, and he could hear the pride in it.

  Blake turned toward his son, a smile warming his face when he saw the boy holding his bow and a quiver of arrows. “Well, I believe you would, son.” He took a step toward him and lowered to a knee. “I have an even more important job for you.” He glanc
ed at Kris and then looked deep into Tuckers eyes. In a whisper he said, “I need you to protect Mom.”

  Tucker eyed him, glanced at his mom who conveniently busied herself in the food cupboards, and then nodded. “Okay. I’ll protect Mommy.”

  “Thanks, Buddy. I knew I could count on you.” He leaned forward and touched foreheads with his son. “We always return to each other.”

  “We always return to each other.” Tucker’s voice held reverence, and then he squeezed him tight. “Keep your eyes open.”

  “Will do, son.” Blake rested a hand on his little champ’s head. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his side again.

  They needed power though. Without power there would be no air filtration system, no heat, no lights, no comfort to keep them from going crazy locked underground. He checked his artillery again and then pushed his shoulders back.

  “Keep it locked tight. Don’t open it until you hear my knock.” He turned to ensure Kris listened.

  Kris sat on her haunches, a look of resignation in her eyes. For a moment he actually wished to have that fire in there instead, even if it was directed at him. With her long red hair pulled up into a messy bun, flashes of earlier years filtered through him, times when he would have scooped her up in his arms and forgotten the world.

  He shifted his weight, shoving the longing down as he had for a year now. “You remember the pattern?”

  Kris nodded, but it was Tucker that pounded the rhythmic knock on the table.

  “How do you remember all of this?” Blake asked, shaking his head in awe.

  “It’s important.”

  “Yes, it is,” Blake said in a whisper. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. If I don’t return, do not come looking for me. Understood?” He looked at both his wife and son while swallowing the tightness that had stuck in his throat. It wasn’t like he was leaving them. He was only going out to check the lines to the solar panels. Why did his heart act like it ran a marathon?

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Dad.” Tucker’s confidence settled his pounding heart. Nothing would keep him away from his family again.