Glory (Book 1) (10 page)

"Help me!" she screamed again.

No one moved. They continued to watch.

Phil gurgled something as he placed his lips onto her own. Jane could taste the blood. It was a mix of sour and salt.

She pulled her head away. Everyone laughed. Phil looked angrier. He howled again. Then he pressed his mouth back against hers and bit into her lips.

*

Jane awoke, lying on the ground. Her heart was beating fast. She took a few deep breaths and tried to steady herself.

At first, she didn't know where she was. Then everything that had happened came quickly back to her.

Her husband was dead. Her baby was dead. She was alone.

Chapter 2

Adam woke up early the next morning. He had gone to sleep on the couch, having had no intention of sleeping in Shelly's room. He had definitely not wanted to sleep in her parents' room, either. He had thought of going back to his own place, but he didn't want to leave Shelly alone. He also didn't want to have to walk back up the three flights of stairs in the dark with thos
e
thing
s
around.

The sun shone in through the window. Adam opened his eyes slowly. He was still tired and wanted to sleep, but he knew that wasn't a good idea. They had to get going. The earlier the better. They needed to take advantage of the daylight.

Adam stretched and sat up. His blanket fell to the floor. He didn't bother picking it up. He had planned on leaving it anyway.

He walked over to Shelly's door. He didn't want to startle her, but he needed to wake her up. He knocked on it.

"Shelly," he said, softly. "It's Adam. You have to get up."

To Adam's surprise, the door swung open. Adam jumped back. Part of him was getting ready to defend himself against those creatures. Standing there was Shelly. She was smiling at him.

"I've been up for a while," she said. "I didn't want to wake you."

"You didn't? Well…uh…thank you."

"No problem." Shelly pushed her door open more. "You can come in. I was just taking a few things out of my pack."

"You were taking the
m
ou
t
?"

"Yeah. Things that I didn't really need. We're going to be travelling for a while, right? So I don't want to carry too much."

Adam looked at the bed. Several of her clothes were laid across it.

"I figure that I can pick stuff up along the way if I need it," Shelly continued. "There'll be lots of stuff out there. Things from department stores, from supermarkets, from houses. We won't need to carry much."

He had thought the same thing before he left his apartment. But, yesterday, in his shocked and tired state, he had forgotten about it. They had put a lot of things in her pack.

He looked at the young girl and found it hard to believe that she was only eleven. It seemed like such a mature thought, one that someone her age shouldn't have had
.
She should've wanted to tak
e
more.

"Let me just take out a few more things," she added as she walked back to the bed and pulled out a few more clothes. "There, I think that'll do."

"Are you sure? It looks like you've taken out a lot."

"I don't need this stuff. Just a few shirts. A sweater. And a couple of things I don't want to leave behind. I'll be fine."

At this, Adam thought about his book. That was something he was going to leave behind. He didn't feel too upset by it. If anything, it was just a slight question as to whether or not he was doing the right thing that crossed his mind.

"There's one more thing," Shelly added.

Adam tilted his head. She had spoken a little unsure of herself.

"What is it?" he asked.

"My father has a gun."

"A gun?"

"In his bedroom. In the closet. I think we should take it."

Adam thought about it. He had wanted to try to find one earlier, but hadn't wanted to look through the apartments. Of course, if they came across one of those creatures, or met another guy like Sam, it would be good to have.

"I don't know," he said. He had never shot one before. He didn't know how to. More than that, he wasn't sure if he could kill anyone.

"W
e
nee
d
to take it," Shelly said, picking up on his hesitation. "I don't want to kill anyone, either. But we may need it."

Again, Adam looked at the young girl. She seemed so much more mature than he had been at that age.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go get the gun."

Shelly shook her head. "It's okay," she said. "I'll do it."

"But your parents."

Shelly raised her hand. "They're dead, I know. I heard them do it. I saw them after."

Adam lowered his eyes. He still couldn't believe that she had had to experience such a thing.

"I really don't mind," he said.

Again, she shook her head. "No, I want to do it."

Shelly left her backpack on the bed and walked out of the room.

*

Shelly came to her parents room. She had only looked inside yesterday, but that had seemed like such a long time ago. She didn't really want to see her parents again. She knew that they were dead. She knew how they had done it. They had clawed away at one another until they both died
.
No, she definitely didn't want to see them again
.
But this was something that she needed to do.

She put her hand on the door knob and almost pulled back.

There was nothing to worry about
,
she told herself
.
They were dead.

She turned the knob and pushed at the door. As it opened, Shelly was able to see her mother and father lying on the floor. She looked again at their faces. The blood had started to dry. Their expressions had remained the same. They both looked angry.

Shelly took a moment to prepare herself and entered the room.

She quickly made her way to the closet. Although she wanted to take a closer look at her parents, she knew that it wasn't a good idea
.
What would she gain from it
?
It was better to remember them as they were.

She opened the closet door, sliding it sideways. Then she looked at her mother and father's clothes. Things that they had worn. Things that...

No, it didn't do any good to think about it.

She bent down, grabbed a stool from near the end of her parents' bed and stood on it. On the tips of her toes, she reached up for the gun. It was difficult to reach. The box was pushed far back against the wall.

Eventually, her hands came upon the handle.

She pulled the box forward and slid it off of the shelf. It fell, much heavier than she had expected. She had never actually lifted the box before. It pulled against her arm. She managed to stop it from falling to the floor.

Shelly got off the stool and turned around. She didn't bother to close the closet door.

Without looking at her parents, she left the room.

*

"Here you go," she said, holding up the gun box before her.

Adam was standing by her parents' bedroom door. He had anxiously been waiting for her. He hated the idea of her seeing the dead bodies in there, but she had been adamant about it and he didn't want to stop her from doing it. It was obvious that she needed to deal with all that had happened in her own way and he didn't want to hinder that.

"Are you okay?" he asked. He didn't bother looking at the box, yet.

Shelly nodded and walked over to the kitchen table. She put the gun box on top of it.

Adam looked at it now. It was big and black. There was a lock on the front of it.

"Do you know the combination?" Adam asked.

"Yes. It's 10-22."

"10-22?"

"My mother's birthday."

"Oh," was all that Adam could say.

Shelly pressed her finger against the dials and moved the numbers into place. Before long, she opened it.

Adam and Shelly looked down at the gun. Adam had never seen one before, so he really didn't even know what he was looking at. Shelly did.

"It's a 9mm," she said.

"A 9mm?" He had heard the expression before, though he didn't know exactly what it meant.

"It's the size of the bullet," Shelly explained.

Adam looked at her, a bit embarrassed. It seemed like something a guy should know.

"I see," he said. "Do you know how to use it?"

"A bit. My dad showed me a few times. I never actually did it on my own."

"Oh…well, I'm sure we will figure it out. Should we take the whole box?"

"No. If we need the gun, we won't have time to search through the box."

"You're right," Adam said. Again, he felt a little embarrassed. He should have thought of that himself. He looked again at Shelly
.
So matur
e
.

Shelly looked at Adam and smiled. She could tell that he was feeling a bit awkward and she didn't want him to. She handed him the gun.

"I think that you should take it," she said.

Adam grabbed the gun. He raised his hand up and down a few times testing the weight.

"Okay," he said. "I'll put it in my backpack."

"Take this too." Shelly handed him a box of ammunition.

"Thanks."

He headed into the living room and placed the gun carefully into his backpack. He hadn't loaded the gun, yet
-
he didn't even know how t
o
- but couldn't help but be cautious about it.

Shelly walked back into her room and grabbed her backpack.

"I'm ready to leave whenever you are," she said when she came back out.

"Let's leave now."

Adam and Shelly walked to the front door.

Before they reached it Shelly stopped him by putting her hand on his arm. He turned to look at her.

"By the way," she said. "It's my birthday in three weeks."

Chapter 3

Claire heard a sound and woke up. She looked around the garage expecting to see Big Mike. He usually came in in the morning to talk to her - t
o
taun
t
her. She waited for him to arrive. He didn't come.

Claire continued to look around. She tried to listen. There was nothing now
.
But she was sure that she had heard something befor
e
.

She waited. Then she heard the sound again. It was banging, as though someone was trying to get into the gas station.

Claire couldn't believe it. She was overcome with relief. With hope
.
Someone was here
!
She was sure that they would save her.

"Help!" she tried to scream out. Her throat was dry and her voice came out as nothing more than a squeak. "Help," she tried again. She knew that no one would be able to hear her like this.

She started rattling the handcuffs. They clanged against the metal desk. Not loud enough to attract the newcomer.

She had to get his attention. This may be her only chance to escape.

"Help," she screamed once more, her voice still weak.

Then she saw a bottle of water. It was one of the few things that Big Mike let her have. She picked it up and drank heavily until her throat felt better. She tried once more. "Help!" She was louder this time, but still not loud enough.

She raised the bottle. Instead of drinking it, she threw it at the window in front of her. It twirled through the air before it bounced off of the glass, making a soft thump.

The banging stopped.

Claire was sure that she had been heard. Now she'd be able to get out of here. She waited for the person to approach.

When she saw him walk in front of the garage window she knew that this was her chance. It was real. It was going to happen. The man moved slowly, his eyes darting in every direction trying to find what had made the noise.

Claire started rattling her handcuff against the desk again.

"HELP!"

The man saw her. He cocked his head and looked at her intensely. Then he let out a huge scream.

Claire sat up and tried to pull away. She knew immediately that it was one of those things. And she had nowhere to go. She was trapped.

The thing continued to yell. It began hitting the windows. Its hands smashed against them violently. Claire was sure that they would break at any moment. She didn't know what to do. What she had once thought might her salvation, might actually be her death.

She pulled at the handcuffs again. They only rattled. She tugged harder. They wouldn't budge.

The thing kept hitting and hitting and hitting. She knew that it was going to get in soon, that it was going to kill her.

Then there was a blast. Claire saw the thing's head snap back and it fell to the ground. She heard footsteps shuffle along the gravel outside.

Big Mike stepped in front of the window, shotgun in his hands.

"That's the second time I've saved you," he said.

He tapped the shotgun against the window twice and smiled.