Glory (Book 2)

by Michael McManamon

  Glory - Book Two

  By Michael McManamon

  Published by Michael McManamon

  Copyright 2013 Michael McManamon

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase and additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Day 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Day 2

  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

  Chapter 17

  Day 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Day 4

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Day 5

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Day 7

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Book Two

  Day 1

  Chapter 1

  Emily held her father's hand. They were standing in front of an elevator, waiting to go up. There were two other people beside them. A man and a woman. But Emily wasn't looking at them. She was staring up at her father. She felt such love for him. He was so handsome. She knew that he could take on the whole world.

  She had even gotten into a fight with her best friend, Erica, about it earlier. Erica had said thather father was the best and that simply wasn't true. Though they hadn't hit each other, they had come close enough. After, the two friends hadn't talked to each other for the rest of the day. Emily wasn't sure if she was ever going to talk to Erica again.

  Actually, she knew deep down that she probably would. She often got into fights with Erica. That's just what best friends did. They'd talk tomorrow.

  Emily continued to look at her father.

  "Youare the best," she said to him, confirming her own thoughts.

  Her father looked down. "What was that, honey?"

  "You're the best!" she said again.

  Her father smiled. She saw the two other people smile as well and felt a little embarrassed by that.

  "Thank you," her father said.

  She turned back to look at him. "It's just that Erica said her father was the best and I told her 'no'."

  The smiles continued. The man even chuckled. The lady beside him grabbed his arm. "She's so cute," she said.

  Emily felt even more embarrassed.

  "Well," her father said. "I'm sure that Erica's father is the best toher."

  "You're the best to everyone!" Emily countered. "Not just to me."

  Emily's father put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair. She hated when he did that. She was too old for such things. But, at the same time, she loved it. It reminded her that she was his little girl.

  He eventually pulled his hand away at placed it at his side. It was then that the elevator arrived.

  The man and woman walked in first. Emily and her father followed. Her father turned around and pressed one of the buttons. The doors closed.

  "It's true," she added. "You're the best."

  Emily expected her father to ruffle her hair again, or at least thank her, but he didn't do anything. Instead, he was focused on the numbers of the elevator as they went up.A little too much. His gaze was intense. He was no longer smiling.

  She stared at him a moment longer before she started to worry.

  "Daddy, are you okay?"

  Her father didn't respond. He continued to look at the numbers. Then he started to growl.

  The sound took Emily by surprise. She had never heard such a sound come from her father before. If anything, it was similar to the dogs she came across in the parks. The ones that ran up to her while she was playing on the swings or the slide.

  "Daddy," she said once more. "What's wrong?"

  He still didn't answer. She tugged on his arm.

  Immediately, he turned to look at her, his eyes glaring.

  "Daddy?"

  Without a word, Emily's father smacked her across the face. Her whole body jerked as she slammed heavily against the elevator wall and fell to the floor.

  She didn't scream. She was too shocked for that. Her father had never hit her before. She couldn't even remember him yelling at her.

  She looked at the other two people and wondered if they were just as surprised. She thought that maybe the man would stop her father, that the woman would kneel down and ask her if she was okay.

  They did neither of these things. They had the same look of intensity in their eyes, which quickly changed to anger. They howled wildly and balled their fists.

  At the sight, Emily pushed herself into the corner of the elevator. It was this that attracted her father's attention. His eyes shot her a look of pure hatred.Her father. The man she loved so much! He stepped toward her and hit her once more across the face.

  What could she have done to upset him?

  "Daddy!" she pleaded.

  Her father didn't listen. He pulled back his hand and hit her again. Her head snapped back and banged against the wall once more.

  With that, Emily began to lose consciousness. Everything started to blur. She knew enough that the other people had gotten into the fight. She could see them attacking her father. Attacking each other.

  For the moment, Emily was forgotten.

  She curled herself into a ball, pulling her arms over her head. She caught a glimpse of a foot as it nearly stepped onto her. She wasn't sure whose it was. She wasn't sure of anything. All she knew was that her father had hit her, everyone had started to fight.

  Then, when she thought that things couldn't get any worse, the lights went out.

  Chapter 2

  Marianne looked at her mother. Her mother was old. And sick. She was lying in bed.

  "Are you feeling better?" Marianne asked.

  Her mother didn't answer; though that wasn't a surprise. Her mother usually didn't answer. She just laid there, staring off at nothing. Even when her mother had the skill and dexterity to sit up and watch something on the television, she was often listless.

  Marianne smiled, weakly. She knew that her mother was dying. She didn't have much time left to go.

  "Can I get you something to drink?" Again, Marianne didn't expect a response. It was simply her habit to ask. She always spoke to her mother as though they were conversing. "How about an orange juice?"

  Marianne stood and left her mother alone. She walked to the kitchen. It wasn't far. Just a little way down the hallway.

  Her and her mother shared a tiny house. Marianne had taken her mother in when the old woman had gotten too frail to care for herself. During the days, when she was at work, she had to leave her mother alone. But she p
aid a caretaker to check in on her. It wasn't the best situation for either mother or daughter. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice.

  She supposed that she could have shipped her mother off to an old-age home, though that wasn't something that appealed to her. She didn't want to leave her mother alone in her dying years. Plus, they were expensive. And one that she could afford wouldn't be all that good.

  It was difficult at times, but it was something that she had to do.

  Marianne walked into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and got out the jug of juice. She poured two glasses, then walked back into her mother's bedroom.

  "Here you..." She stopped as soon as she saw that her mother was sitting up, looking at her. She put the glasses quickly down on the table and rushed to her mother's side. "Are you okay? Why are you sitting up?"

  Marianne didn't expect an answer. She never did. But she didn't expect the gurgling sound, either. She looked at her mother. She could see the old woman's mouth moving.

  Marianne moved closer. "What did you say?" She couldn't believe that her mother was talking.

  The old woman continued to mumble. Marianne moved her head closer. Her ear almost touched her mother's lips.

  Then her mother's arm shot up and wrapped around her.

  Marianne was so surprised that she pulled away. Almost as quickly, she got angry at herself. Her mother was obviously trying to communicate with her. Sure, she had gotten used to her just lying there, doing nothing. But that wasn't a reason to pull away.

  "I'm sorry," she said, ashamed.

  She continued to look at her mother. She could tell that the woman was getting more and more agitated.

  Marianne started to worry.

  What if her mother was having a heart attack? It had happened before. Twice, actually. Both times Marianne had been lucky enough to be near. Maybe it was happening again.

  Except this time didn't look like the others.

  She moved back to her mother. The old woman reached out for her once more.

  To Marianne, it looked more like she was trying to claw at her.

  She must be imagining things.

  Marianne shook her head and sat down on the bed. She ran her hand across her mother's leg.

  "Mother," she began. "Are you..."

  Before she had a chance to finish, her mother attacked. Marianne didn't even have time to react. It came about so fast, was such a surprise. The old woman grabbed at Marianne's shirt and pulled her closer.

  Marianne didn't know what was happening. She had the feeling that her mother was trying to hurt her.But that was ridiculous! There was no way.

  Her mother pulled her closer. Then she began hitting and biting.

  Marianne finally screamed and pushed her mother away. The old woman fell weakly across the bed.

  Marianne waited a moment to see if she could figure out what was happening. As she did, her mother got back up. Her fingers clutched the bedspread. Her mumbling turned to growling. All of which caused a shiver to run down Marianne's spine.

  This isn't a heart attack, she thought. It wasn't anything she had seen before.

  Marianne took a step back as her mother made her way to the edge of the bed.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, afraid that the old woman would fall out of it and come crashing to the ground. She wanted to rush over to help her. She also didn't want to get attacked again. "What's wrong?"

  Her mother continued to growl. Then she started to scream. A high-pitched noise that rattled Marianne even more than she already was.

  Marianne wrung her hands together and placed them against her chest. She took a step forward, then back. She didn't know what to do.

  When her mother got up out of the bed, Marianne stopped moving all together. She couldn't believe it. Her mother hadn't been able to walk without help for a long time now.

  "Mother, you should lie down. You'll hurt..."

  Her mother came at her. She moved with a speed the daughter could never have imagined.

  Marianne only had enough time to turn and run into the old woman's bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and pressed her back up against it. She could hear her mother beating against the door, trying to get in.

  "Mother?" Marianne called out.

  More screaming.

  "Motttheeeer!"

  Chapter 3

  John looked out the window of their little house. People were running around wild on the streets. And, if he didn't know better, they were killing themselves out there.

  "Come away from the window," Alice said.

  John turned and looked at his wife. She was standing behind him, obviously worried.

  "We need to know what's happening out there," he said.

  "No, we don't," she replied. "We need to call the police."

  The phone was already in her hand. She had run to it as soon as the chaos had started.

  "Do you have any idea what going on?' he asked.

  "Of course I don't know what's going on! But that doesn't matter right now, does it? Come away from that window!"

  John didn't move. He couldn't. He had to see what was going on outside, to see if he could figure anything out. He looked back out of the window.

  "John!" Alice screamed.

  "Give me a minute."

  Instead of pulling her husband away from the window, Alice started pressing the digits on her phone for the local police department. She knew the number off by heart because she had used it so many times before. Neighbours weren't as courteous as they once had been. She raised the phone to her ear and waited for an operator.

  She got a busy signal.

  "What's this?" she asked. "How can the police be busy?"

  John kept looking out the window, but he heard his wife all the same.

  "They're busy because of this," he said. He pointed outside.

  There were two men running toward each other. Their arms raised up above them, hands clenched into fists. Pure hatred on their faces. When the two men reached each other, they began punching and kicking. Soon those faces were covered with blood. They wrestled each other to the floor.

  It made John nauseous. Though it wasn't enough to turn him away from the window. He needed to know what was happening out there.And why. None of it seemed real.

  "John!" his wife screamed at him again. "Come away from there now! The police aren't answering. Something is wrong."

  John knew that already. Something wasvery wrong. People had gone mad and were attacking each other out on his street. That wasn't something that you saw every day.

  "John, please!"

  He could hear the concern in her voice -the panic- and felt bad about it. He considered listening to her.Maybe he should get away from the window.

  Unfortunately, it was a moment too late.

  Outside, one of the people had spotted him. A man. He stood on John's lawn, fists raised into the air and screaming. He rushed toward the house.

  John turned and grabbed his wife's hand. She dropped the phone in the process.

  "We've gotta get out of here," he said. He began pulling at the woman.

  She pulled back. "Get out of here? Where? Why?"

  There was a crash at the window. Both John and Alice looked to see the man looking at them. They could see nothing but rage in his eyes. He screamed at them as he pulled himself up through the window frame.

  "He's coming in here!" Alice screamed. Her words were caught somewhere between a statement and question.

  "That's why we have to go!"

  John grabbed at his wife's hand again. He led her down the hallway, not sure where he was headed. It was then that he thought about the basement.

  "Come on!" he said.

  John hadn't moved this quickly in years. His legs felt as though they might give out underneath him, that he might trip and fall. But he kept moving. His wife behind him.

  He came upon the basement and pulled the door open.

  "Get in!"

  He pushed his wife through it. A l
ittle too forcefully. So much so that she nearly fell down the stairs.

  John didn't think much about it. They needed to escape.

  Alice grabbed onto the railing and steadied herself. She didn't seem all too bothered by the fact that she had nearly been pushed down the stairs, either. She kept moving down them.

  John followed his wife through the door.

  As he turned to close the door, he saw the person approaching. The man was close now. Only a second more and…

  John slammed the door shut.

  The man outside started smashing his fists against it.

  John's fingers fumbled with the lock, but he was able to slide it into place.

  The man continued to beat against the door.

  John turned to his wife. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, panting.

  "What's happened?" she asked.

  John shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea.

  Chapter 4

  John stood at the top of the stairs. He kept his hand on the door knob. The lock had been set, but the man outside kept trying to get in.

  His wife stood at the bottom of the stairs. She called up to him, "What's happening? What's going on?"

  John ignored her. Not that he was purposely trying to be rude. He simply didn't know what was going on. All he knew was that people outside had started attacking one another. One of them had even attacked him and his wife. That man was outside the door now. Screaming. Hitting.

  John felt each blow the man gave to the door rumble beneath his fingers and was glad that the doors were solid. He thought that it would hold. At least for a while.

  And Alice had wanted him to change these doors a few years ago. Make them more modern.

  Actually, it had probably been her brother's idea. But he had refused. He was happy now that he had.

  He stared at the door. The man continued to pound against it.

  "John!" his wife called up to him. "Come down here, please!"

  "In a minute."

  Although the door was strong, he didn't feel all that comfortable leaving it. Like it might come crashing down if he did. He kept his hand on the door knob.