Grant Us Mercy: Installment Eight: Post-Apocalyptic Survival Fiction Read online

  GRANT

  US

  MERCY

  A Post-Apocalyptic Serial Novel:

  I n s t a l l m e n t E I G H T

  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 © 2020 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, and those unexpected miracles.

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ~1~

  ~2~

  ~3~

  ~4~

  ~5~

  ~6~

  ~7~

  ~8~

  ~9~

  ~10~

  ~11~

  ~12~

  ~13~

  ~14~

  ~15~

  ~16~

  ~17~

  Free Book!

  Next in Grant Us Mercy

  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 editors, Dianne McCleery, Karen Krieger, and Joan Simpson. Without your guidance and keen eye, my books wouldn’t be near as clean and consistent! And I can’t forget 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 makes a special star appearance.

  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, and inspiration, for understanding how important Mommy’s writing time is and being excited whenever I receive one of my books in the mail.

  ~1~

  Blake held his breath as he released the bowstring.

  The arrow whooshed through the air while Blake slowly lowered his bow. As if in slow motion, he watched the arrow hit its mark as the target toppled. Blake dropped his head in relief and respect.

  Funny how, after a year of consistent beef supply, the idea of venison made his mouth water. He slipped his head and arm through the bow, wearing it around his chest as he walked silently toward the fallen deer.

  The creature hadn’t moved, but he didn’t want to startle the big-antlered buck in case he hadn’t died. As he neared, Blake paused to watch for any signs of life. When he saw none, he knelt down at the animal’s side, laid a hand on its chest, and bowed his head.

  A twig snapped behind him. Blake stiffened. He held his breath as he listened more closely.

  “Ah, man. You heard me, didn’t you?” Tucker blew out a disappointed breath.

  Blake turned to see his son not even ten feet behind him, bow worn around his chest and hair hanging over his eyes. The shaggy hairstyle was one thing Blake wished his son hadn’t picked up from Ryan. In fact, after a year of Ryan living in the community, he had rubbed off on many of the kids, especially Tucker who had shadowed him from the start. Blake respected the influence the well-mannered and hard-working boy had with his son.

  “You got close, real close,” Blake complimented his son. He couldn’t believe Tucker would turn nine in a matter of a few weeks. Time flew too fast.

  “You got a nice buck, Dad. Look at that rack.” Tucker closed the small gap between them and knelt next to the animal.

  Tucker stroked the deer between the eyes as he murmured words Blake couldn’t make out. He didn’t need to. He knew his son always honored the kill and thanked it for giving its life to feed them.

  Then Tucker stood and looked down at his father who was still kneeling before the deer. He smiled from ear to ear. “I didn’t get a deer, but I got something that will make Mom happy.”

  Tucker walked back to the large pine he had appeared beside and pulled out a large turkey by its leg.

  “You’re right, Mom will be happy,” Blake said, watching his son in admiration.

  “She hardly gets this kind of meat, and I know she misses it.”

  “She does. Your mom used to love chicken, and turkey is the closest we have to that.”

  “We got cows,” Tucker said, tapping his chin. “Do you think we could find chickens, too?”

  “That’s an idea, Tuck.” Blake unsheathed his knife and looked at his son before he started field dressing the deer. “We would probably have to steal some from more rural neighborhoods.”

  “Like where we used to live?”

  “Yeah, like that.” Blake turned his attention back to the deer, slipping his knife under the skin and pulling long across his stomach so he could leave the entrails out here in the woods. Those were the only parts of the deer they didn’t use. Although he knew bladders and even intestines could be used for various things, he preferred to leave them as an offering to other animals.

  The mention of their old home tugged on Blake as yearning filled the empty space within. They lived a good life here in New Forest Glen. The last year and a half had been fruitful. They had learned a great deal, including finding a semi-homeostasis of getting along with each other. Most days, he didn't wish he could up and leave with his family, though the desire still sat in the back of his mind.

  He didn’t like all the rules the council decided upon. He didn’t agree with the amount of structure they worked into the days, at least not what they chose to focus on. Long ago, they voted to stop posting sentries, deeming the camp safe and hidden. That alone made him cringe. It made them vulnerable.

  Blake still took his morning walks, checking perimeters at least around his family’s dwelling and looking across the distance from close vantage points. Yet, it unnerved him because everyone assumed they were safe.

  Weren’t they, though?

  Tucker watched him, his head cocked, his eyes haunted. His kid had stopped telling him the dreams that woke him, gasping for breath, searching for his sister in the dark, and staring at the conical ceiling for the rest of the night.

  Blake wanted to take the burden off him, but he didn’t know-how.

  “Do you miss the old ways, Dad?” Tucker asked, now sitting down, his lanky legs crossed underneath him.

  Blake met his eyes for several moments before he went back to work on the deer. “Yes, Tuck. I miss having our own house with beds, bathrooms, showers, and refrigerators.” He tugged out the entrails. “I miss grocery stores.”

  “I miss ice cream,” Tucker said, his voice sounding just as nostalgic as Blake’s.

  Blake wiped off his knife and turned his full attention on his son. “You know what is better now?”

  Tucker raised his eyes to his and shook his head.

  “Being with you, y
our sister, and your mother, every day and night.”

  “Yeah, that is a good change,” Tucker said before swallowing hard and coming to a stand. “If only it were always going to be that way.”

  Blake barely heard his whisper as his son turned away from him, but the words filtered in. He reached out for his son’s shoulder, turning him back toward him.

  “Tucker, you were given parents for a reason. We are here to help you through this.”

  His son’s lips hardened into a tight line, and his eyes narrowed as they shone with moisture. “What good would it do to tell you? There’s nothing we can do to change them anyway.”

  “Sharing a burden lessens the load, son. That’s why we tell each other, even if it doesn’t change the outcome.”

  “What if saying them out loud is what makes them come true?” His voice trembled as his lips quivered.

  Blake’s heart tore open in a fiery rush. He pulled Tucker into his chest, hugging him as if he could pull the pain out from his son and into himself. Seeing his son in such torment was worse than any torture he had ever endured.

  The boy hadn’t seen enough life to have such haunted eyes, heavy shoulders, and fear of what could happen. True, he had gone through much more than Blake had at almost nine, but he had done his best to shelter his son from the worst. Knowing the future must weigh heavily.

  That night, after Tucker breathed evenly from his bedding across the fire, Blake spoke to Kris in whispers. “There has to be something we can do. He can’t go on like this.”

  “I’m worried, too. The dark circles under his eyes get bigger every day. He won’t talk to me.” The pain in Kris’s voice tore his heart even further.

  “Nor me,” Blake said with a sigh. He rolled up onto his elbow, looking down at his wife lying next to him. “Could you talk with Laurie? Maybe there is some herb or something that could help him sleep...like too deep to have these dreams.”

  “You know he gets them during the day sometimes, too.”

  “I know, but at least a good night’s sleep would help, don’t you think?” He rolled onto his back, suppressing the growl he wanted to let loose. “I can’t stand it, Krista. I want to take it from him. Why him? Why our son? It’s too much.”

  “I do, too,” she said, her voice sounding far away.

  He knew that sound, there was more she wasn’t saying. Blake pushed back up and looked into her eyes, shadowed with her back to the fire.

  “Tell me.”

  “I sometimes wonder if…” She bit her lip and glanced at their daughter sleeping near them.

  “If Mercy has it as well…” He sat up and ran his hand through his hair. “I sure hope not. Why would God do this to them?”

  “They are called spiritual gifts,” Kris said as she sat cross-legged in front of him. “Do you think we should talk to Pastor Rob about this?”

  “What?” Blake narrowed his eyes. “No. Not a chance.”

  The council, including Pastor Rob, had shifted. Although he still respected the other members, they had no clue about so many things concerning combat survival. Plus, they gossiped more than a pack of hens. Sure, Blake could be a bit overprotective, but trusting someone with a secret, that if shared, could be the end of a somewhat normal life for his son, was not going to happen.

  “Geez, Blake. It was just a suggestion.”

  He had hurt her feelings, but it didn’t matter. “No one knows, understand? Not a whisper of it to anyone.”

  Kris glared at him a moment longer before she turned her back to him and lay back down. She kept her back to him all night as he tossed and turned until the sky finally started to lighten.

  ~*~

  Kris swallowed as she entered Laurie’s dwelling. She didn’t mention to Blake about how she had her suspicions that her friend already knew about Tucker’s gift, or curse, depending on how she looked at it. Luckily, Laurie had never outright said anything, and she hoped she could get her help without having to have such a conversation.

  “Tuck, why don’t you take Ethan and go find Ryan. I’m sure he would like a chance to hang out with you two.” Kris rubbed her son’s back in appreciation.

  “Sure, Mom.” Tucker turned toward Ethan. “Let’s go, little buddy.”

  “I’m not little. I’m five!”

  “Okay, okay,” Tucker said as he smiled.

  “Me go, too, Bubba!” Mercy squirmed out of Kris’s arms.

  At two, Mercy had the strength to do just about whatever she wanted, and her stubborn streak showed through.

  “Can Little Sister come with us?” Tucker asked, holding out his hand to Mercy.

  “Don’t take your eyes off her. You know how quick she is.”

  “And how much she likes to wander off to play with the squirrels.” Tucker smiled adoringly down at his sister.

  “I stay with Bubba. No run to fluffies.” She bounced up to her tippy-toes.

  “Okay, just be safe.”

  “I’ll watch her, Mom. You don’t have to worry.” Tucker’s eyes met hers with a seriousness a boy his age shouldn’t have.

  “I know you will. When you need to run around with the boys, bring her back.” Kris kissed his head and then knelt down next to Mercy. “You listen to Big Brother.”

  “Love you, Mama. Bye-bye.” She gave Kris a slobbery kiss and then tugged Tucker toward the door.

  Kris watched as her heart swelled with love. Tucker was such a wonderful big brother. All the more reason to get him help. She sighed as she turned toward her friend.

  “He’s so good with his little sister,” Laurie said, watching the kids leave before returning to grind with her pestle.

  “We are lucky,” Kris said. “What are you concocting?”

  “Getting tonics ready for joints. Frank’s hands have been bothering him again.”

  “Speaking of tonics,” Kris said. She squeezed her hands together as she sat across Laurie. She glanced around the dwelling, ensuring they were alone.

  Laurie set the pestle and bowl aside and gave her full attention to Kris. “What is it?”

  “Tucker isn’t sleeping well.” Kris pushed the words out and searched her friend’s eyes while she held her gaze for several moments without saying anything.

  Finally, Laurie sat back and nodded. “It’s been getting worse, hasn’t it?”

  Kris nodded and bit her lip.

  “I’ve got just the thing.” She stood up and rummaged around in her baskets full of herbs until she came out with a small bottle. “Ritually, vetiver oil has been used for thousands of years in India and Sri Lanka. They call it the oil of tranquility. Place two drops in chamomile tea about an hour before bedtime. Please bring the bottle back when it’s empty. I have precious few.”

  Kris took the offered bottle. “Thank you, I will. Are there any side effects?”

  “Maybe some drowsiness in the morning, but that will wear off if he uses it regularly.”

  “So, it’s safe, and it will help him...sleep?”

  “It will help him,” Laurie said and went back to her pestle.

  The rhythmic crunch and grating sound soothed Kris as she played with the bottle in her hand.

  “Ancient societies had many beliefs,” Laurie said without looking up. “Who is to say if they were right or not? They explained things in different terms than Christians may, but a good portion of it parallels. Every religion has those who are given certain...gifts. Some believed that too much of the gift could harm the person. The vetiver plant has extremely long roots, which is where the oil is taken from. It is said to have a grounding effect, calming and balancing. This will help ease what troubles Tucker.”

  Kris held her breath and felt her eyes widen. She glanced toward the door. They were alone, but her heart raced.

  “We, as mothers, must decide what is best for our children.” Laurie stopped and met her eyes with a smile. “By the way, I have news.”

  Kris blinked a few times, trying to follow the abrupt turn of conversation while still processing the mea
ning of what Laurie had just shared.

  “News?”

  “No one else knows yet, well, besides Arland, of course.” Laurie’s cheeks slightly pinked. “We’re going to tell Ethan and Hannah tonight...which means it won’t be secret for long.”

  The realization hit Kris as the other thoughts fell back into the recesses of her mind. A slow smile turned up her lips. “How far along?”

  “Close to three months, I think.”

  Kris went to her friend and hugged her. “Congratulations! I am so happy for you and Arland!”

  “Thank you,” Laurie said shyly. “I didn’t know if it would happen, but I had hoped.”

  “It’s good, and hopefully, it’s a girl.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a little girl,” she said, her smile widening.

  “Our community needs more girls.”

  “We do. If we stay sheltered like this, we will need even more. Our boys far outnumber the girls. There won’t be enough to make matches.”

  “You’re right.” Kris plopped back onto her seat. “That’s something to think about, isn’t it?”

  “It is, but the men don’t see the big picture. They don’t want to see their daughters married, but if we want our community to thrive and continue for generations, the few girls we have won’t be enough. It’s more than just about procreation...”

  “They will be fought over.” Kris’s heart hammered as she thought of Mercy and all the boys that would be wanting to get at her. Boys were boys, and even as sweet as most of them were, hormones did strange things. What would happen when there were only one or two girls close enough to their age to devote their attention?

  Laurie reached out to touch her knee. “Don’t stress, my friend. We have decades to worry about this.”

  “True,” Kris said with a sigh, her gaze landing on Hannah’s bed. “And a wedding to plan.”

  “Yes, Hannah is finally going to be allowed to act upon her love for Tyler.” Laurie nodded.