Glory (Book 2)

by Michael McManamon

  Scooter heard the little girl whimper. It wasn't a good idea to be having this conversation in front of her. She was tired and hungry. They didn't need to have her scared as well.

  "I'll go check it out," he said.

  Julie reached out and grabbed him. "No, it's okay. It was probably just my imagination."

  Scooter focused on the hand on his arm. He could feel her fingers pressing into the muscles of his forearm. It felt warm. Actually, no, it was more than warm. It felt hot. And it felt good. He turned back at Julie. His face turned red once more.

  "It's okay," he said. "I'll be careful."

  He raised up his axe for Julie to see. As he did, her hand fell off of his arm. Part of him wished that it hadn't.He should have just looked down at the axe, not brought it up, he thought. But he couldn't do anything about that now.

  "I'll be fine," he said. "I promise."

  He promised?How could he possibly do that? How could he possiblysay that?

  Julie smiled. "You promise?"

  "Yeah, I..." He didn't want to repeat the word again. It had sounded pointless coming out of his mouth the first time. "I do."

  Julie nodded, then motioned toward the car he had found for them. "We'll wait for you in here. Don't be long."

  "I won't. I promise."There it was again.Thatuseless word.

  Julie took the little girl into the car.

  Scooter watched them settle in. They both took the front seats. Julie tilted them so that they could lie back. He could see her talking to Emily, telling her that everything would be okay. He also saw that Julie had found something to eat. He hadn't seen anything when he had looked, but there she was opening a bag of something. Probably chips.

  Scooter turned away and looked at the blue car. He squeezed his axe and started to walk toward it.

  He didn't knowwhy he was doing it. If one of those creatures was around, it wouldn't bother them unless it knew that they were there. And, if they were quiet, then it would never know. But if he went over and the thing saw him, it would attack.

  So why was he going to look?

  He really didn't know.

  That didn't stop him, though.

  He came upon the blue car, but couldn't hear anything on the other side of it. He squeezed his axe and felt sweat build up on his palms.

  He looked back at the car the Julie and Emily were in. It was hard to see it very well from where he was standing, but he was sure that they were okay. He would have heard them scream if something bad had happened.

  He didn't want to hear them scream. He didn't even want to think about it. And he supposed that's why he was checking this out. To make sure that they'd be safe.

  It was a strange role for Scooter to play. He'd never really taken theprotector's role. At least, not for anyone other than himself. For Scooter, that was pretty much all that he knew how to do. His family life had been horrible and he hadn't live in a good neighbourhood. He was always worried about the bad things that could happen to him.

  So, yeah, he had to look out for himself.

  But now he was looking after two more people. And that was something he had never done before.

  He walked closer to the car. He still couldn't hear anything.

  He stopped to get a better listen.

  Then he heard it. A scratching sound. Followed by a sucking sound. He didn't know what it was. It could easily be one of thosethings.

  But it could also be something else. That was what the positive part of his brain told him. And that was the part that rarely spoke up.

  He squeezed the axe again and raised it up over his head. He'd smash it down on the creature if there was one there.Just like that. He walked slowly around the front of the car.

  He took a deep breath. He couldn't hear the noise anymore, but he knew it whatever it was was still there.

  He took a few steps more. He could hear the sound of his boots press quietly on the pavement and hoped that they weren't too loud.

  Then he came around the front to the car and peeked at what was there.

  There was a body. But it wasn't one ofthem. It was a corpse. Its face had been smashed open. He could see part of an eyeball spilling out of the socket. There was blood everywhere.

  And there was a bird.

  Scooter didn't know the difference between many birds. He didn't know the names for them. But he was sure that this one was a crow. It was picking at the tongue of the dead man. Eating the bits it tore off.

  "Fuck," Scooter said. It came out more as a breath.

  The crow looked at him, a fresh piece of tongue in its mouth. It flapped its wings and flew away.

  Scooter watched it go. He knew that it wouldn't go far. It wouldn't give up its meal. There was far too much for it to eat.

  Food - that's all that these bodies were now.

  "Fuck," he said again.

  There was nothing more that he could do here. He had come to check it out. It hadn't been one of thosethings. That was good enough. He threw the axe over his shoulder and walked back to the car.

  Chapter 2

  Julie and Emily were asleep by the time that Scooter got back to them. He didn't want to wake them, so he didn't open the car door. He thought he'd take a look around at some of the other cars. He could look for better food -better than a bag of chips. He could see the bag resting on Julie's lap. He'd try to find them some more water too.

  He walked away from the car and made his way over to some of the other ones stalled along the road.

  It didn't take him long come upon a few good things in the front of a pick-up truck. There was a big bottle of water, some apples and granola bars.

  Finally, someone who brought along some healthy snacks!

  Scooter was still amazed at all of the crap that people travelled with. Chips. Pop. Candy. Sure, he liked all of that stuff. He travelled with it himself. But when it came down to survival, that stuff wouldn't do anything for him.

  He grabbed up the things in his hands. He didn't have a bag, and there wasn't one around, so he shoved the apples into his pockets. He tucked the bottle under his arm. He put the edges of the granola bar packages into his mouth. All of which would have all been a lot easier if he had let go of the axe. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

  He turned away from the truck and walked back to the Julie and Emily.

  They were still asleep when he arrived.

  He placed the food and water down underneath the car.

  Now what should he do?

  He looked back at the car. Maybe he could open the back door. He might be quiet enough so as not to wake them. He wasn't sure. The door might make a loud click and wake them up. And that would mean that Emily would probably start crying again.

  He felt another moment of frustration with that.

  He knew that the little girl was just scared and hungry, but that didn't make it any easier for him to deal with. Sometimes he wanted to shout at her. Tell her to stop. Like his parents would have done to him. But he knew that that wouldn't work. If anything, it would just frighten the little girl more.

  Besides, he didn't want to be like his parents. He didn't want to beanything like them.

  Scooter turned away from the car. He wasn't going to wake them. He find a car of his own to rest in.

  He made his way over to one of the other cars. The door was already open, so he wouldn't have to worry about making any noise.

  He looked into the front seat. No one was there. He looked into the back. Empty also.

  Scooter took another look around. He was always on alert. Or he tried to be. There was nothing out there. None ofthem.

  He lowered himself onto the front seat and placed his axe on the seat next to him. It sat upright like an anxious passenger. He smiled at the thought of it. Then he grabbed at the button beside his seat and pressed it.

  Unlike the sinks in the airport, there was still power in the car. The seat moved underneath his touch and started to tilt backward. He stopped it in the perfect position. He shift
ed himself to get in place. The seat was much more comfortable than he had expected.

  Once he was settled, he noticed the radio.If the seats worked, maybe the radio would too. He leaned forward to turn it on.

  Nothing. Although power went to the seats, it didn't apply to the radio.

  He searched for the key and found it in the ignition. His fingers grasped it and turned it toward him. Not to start the car. Just to give it power.

  There was binging sound that startled him. He had become used to the quiet.

  Bing, bing, bing. His door was open. He didn't bother to close it.

  He pushed the sound out of his mind and focused on the radio. His fingers pressed the "on" button and the radio came to life. Though, other than a slight hiss, there was nothing on it.

  Scooter grabbed at the dial and turned it around the stations. There was just more hissing noise. Not all of it sounded the same. Some sounds were higher than others. But there was no news, no music, no speaking. It wasn't working anymore. The stations were dead.

  Scooter continued to try. He searched through the dial once, twice, three times. Nothing.

  He pressed the "off" button, annoyed; even though he had also somewhat expected it.

  He turned off the ignition. The binging sound stopped.

  He lowered himself back onto the seat and closed his eyes.

  Chapter 3

  Scooter's father came home late one evening. He knew that the old man was drunk. He usually was at this time of night. He also knew that the old man was mad - which was usually the case as well.

  "Fuck," his father said. He had banged into the table in the hallway. The one where they kept their keys, put the mail. "Fuckin' table."

  Scooter was in the living room. He was supposed to be doing his homework, but he was watching TV instead. There was a funny show on and it was much better than doing math. Scooter heard his father shout again.

  He hated seeing his father this way, regardless that it was a common enough occurrence.He should've gotten used to it by now.

  He kept his eyes on the television. Nervously. His father was going to ask him if he had finished his homework and he wouldn't be able to lie about it. His father had a way of telling if he was telling the truth or not, anyway.

  He thought of grabbing his homework and putting it on his lap. Maybe he could say that he was just watching the show in between questions. Or that he was doing both at the same time. But, no, that wouldn't work, either. Teenagers didn't watch TV and do homework at the same time. It was impossible.Who could do boring-ass homework while watching the television?

  Scooter heard his father stumble once more.

  "Fuck," he said, louder this time.

  His father didn't seem to care that other people in the house were already in bed. He didn't seem to care that his son was busy doing homework (which he really wasn't, but his father didn't know that). His father just didn't seem to care about anything.

  Scooter heard him take a few more footsteps. His heavy boots pounded against the hallway floor. Then they stopped.

  He knew that his father was standing behind him. He could feel his presence, his angry glare.

  His father continued to stand there. Scooter waited for him to say something. He might ask about his homework. Or maybe he'd shout at him for watching television. His father watched television, but he hated when anyone else did. He'd call them lazy. Tell them that they were wasting their time. For him, it was a time to relax. For anyone else, it was the Devil's work.

  Scooter waited. And waited. His father didn't say anything. He didn't even move.

  Scooter prepared himself to turn around. Obviously his father was trying to make some type of point. One that he would never be able to figure out. At least not until he turned around.

  He took a deep breath, then turned his head to look over his shoulder.

  His father was standing there, staring. He was looking directly at Scooter. There was no expression on his face other than a blank stare.

  Scooter stared back. He had never seen his father like this. He didn't even know whatthis was.

  He thought about asking if everything was okay, but his mouth had gone dry and he couldn't get the words out. He wanted his father to go away.

  He waited, not taking his eyes off of his old man. He didn't know what would happen if he did. His father could freak out and hit him for no reason. Looking away seemed like something that might set him off.

  Scooter bit his lip. He was more than nervous. He was confused. And scared.

  He looked his father up and down and swallowed. There still wasn't much moisture in his mouth, but he managed to work a bit of it.

  "Dad?" he said, finally. His father continued to stare, that blank expression on his face. "Are you okay?" It was more than Scooter had thought that he was going to say. More than he hadwanted to.

  Scooter bit his lip again. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with him. He might be having a stroke or something. He stood up. "Dad, are you okay?"

  His father didn't reply.

  Scooter approached him, slowly. He didn't want to make any sudden movements. He felt like he was coming upon a wild animal and he didn't know what the reaction would be.

  He walked up to him. "Dad?"

  His father remained motionless. But his eyes moved. They followed Scooter, watching him approach.

  "Dad?"

  He came up to him, but didn't touch. He couldn't go that far. He was almost as tall as his father now and could get a better look into his eyes.

  "Dad?"

  He heard a sound come from his father's mouth. A growl.

  "Dad?"

  The sound came again.

  Scooter stepped back. Not enough to look disrespectful, but enough for him to feel a bit safer. He had never seen his father like this before. He had definitely never heard him growl.

  A corner of his father's lip curled up. Not into a smile. It was something more of a snarl. Something more like a dog would do. Not a person. Not his dad.

  Scooter saw his father's tooth underneath his raised lip. It shone out brightly through the red. Only for a second.

  "What are you doing?" his father asked. His voice was slow, but forceful. Scooter hadn't been expecting the words. He didn't think his father was ever going to speak to him. "Well?"

  "Uh, nothing, dad," he managed to say. "You just...you..." He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell his father that he had been acting strangely. That he had been just standing there.

  "Did you finish your homework?"

  Scooter looked back at the table where his homework was. "I...uh...I..." He couldn't lie. He also couldn't get himself to tell the truth.

  "You didn't, did you?"

  Again, Scooter couldn't speak.

  His father continued to stare at him. Then he shook his head. "You make me sick." He turned away and stumbled down the rest of the hallway.

  Scooter watched him go.

  *

  A hand touched Scooter's leg. He woke up quickly and went to grab for the axe. But, before he got to it, he noticed that it was Julie. She was bending down outside of the car. Emily was behind her.

  "It's okay," she said. "It's only us."

  "I...uh..I..." Scooter didn't know why it was hard for him to speak. He had been having a dream about his father. One of those ones which showed what an jerk his dad had been. And, though the details were starting to fade,that much he remembered.

  "It's only us," Julie said again.

  Scooter looked at Julie, but he kept thinking about his father. About his whole family. He hadn't spent much time worrying about them, but now he wondered what had happened to them.

  Had they changed? It wouldn't have been a far stretch from them if they had.

  He laughed at his little joke, even though he knew that it wasn't actually true. His father was abusive, his mother submissive (though she could get rough every now and again). He even hated his two younger brothers. But they were nothing like the creatures
that he had seen.

  "What is it?" Julie asked.

  "Nothing. Just thinking about something."

  "What?"

  "The dream I had. I can't remember it now." He didn't want to explain his family life to her at the moment.

  She accepted his response. "Wanna get going?" She kept her hand on his knee.

  Scooter looked down at it. A nice hand. A feminine hand. He liked seeing it on his jeans. The pale white skin blended nicely against the blue. He felt himself begin to blush for theumpteenth time.

  "Sure," he said, mumbling more than speaking.

  Julie took her hand off of him and stood up. He hated to see it go, but it made him feel a little more relaxed.

  "I found food," he added. "I put it under your car. I didn't want to wake you."

  Julie smiled. "Good. I'm hungry. I know that Emily is too." She looked down at the little girl. Emily wasn't crying anymore.

  "Let's get something to eat, then." Scooter got out of the car and led them over to the one they had been in. He grabbed at the food underneath it. "I found some pretty good things. They should keep us full for a while."

  Julie smiled. Emily didn't. Even though there weren't tears in her eyes, she was obviously still upset by everything.

  Scooter handed the food to the little girl first. She took it from him and bit into the apple. He handed a granola bar to Julie next.

  "Thank you," she said. "This looks great."

  Scooter looked at her. He knew that she was being genuine. She really did appreciate what he had done for them. And that made him feel good. More than that, it made him feel special.

  He took a bite of his own apple.

  When they had finished, they walked away from the car and approached the turn-off.

  "Just down this road," Julie said. It would take them away from the highway.

  Scooter looked ahead of him. It looked as though it would be a long walk. Especially with a little girl to take care of. But he decided not to say anything about it. All he did was nod his head and smile. Then he added, "Lead the way."

  Julie did. She walked forward. Emily held her hand. Scooter followed behind.

  As they walked, Scooter looked at the road sign that told them of the cut-off. The name loomed above him. The distance to their destination stared out at him. But none of those things seemed to matter. His eyes focused on something on top of the sign. It was a bird. A crow. And Scooter couldn't help but wonder if it was the same one that had been eating the dead man's tongue.