Glory (Book 1)

by Michael McManamon

  Adam bit his lower lip. It was a good idea and one thatheshould have thought of earlier.A camping store. They could have picked up a lot of things there.

  "I really don't like the idea of sleeping outside," Shelly said again. "Not with those things around."

  "Yeah, that's true." They hadn't seen any of the creatures since the bike shop, but he didn't like the idea of spending the night outside, undefended, either. "So, what should we do?"

  Shelly looked off down the road. "There has to be a farm house or something around here, right? We'll probably find one soon enough. I say that we just keep going forward."

  A farm house. Forward.

  It all made sense. Again, they were things that Adam thought he should have come up with on his own.

  "All right," he said. "Forward, it is."

  "We'll find something. I'm sure of it."

  "I'm sure you're right."

  The two continued to pedal down the road. Both of their eyes searched around in every direction, looking for a place to spend the night.

  Chapter 7

  Claire kept looking at the garage door windows. She tried her best not to, but couldn't stop herself. Big Mike had picked up the creature he had shot and propped him against it. Her brother was there too. He had said that it was a reminder of how he had saved her.Twice.

  The corpses' faces were planted against the window. Or what was left of them. Big Mike's shotgun had managed to take off most of their heads. Her brother's eye was completely missing. She could see most of his bottom jaw, his teeth jutting upward. The other creature looked much the same.

  Blood spilled down the window. Flies buzzed around.

  Yet she couldn't look away.

  When she did, she looked down at herself. The view wasn't much better. She was still half naked. Actually, more so now. Big Mike had torn away most of her shirt in his last attack. He had also hit her several times. She could feel that her face was quite swollen. She could see more scratches on her arms and legs.

  She was still seated on the garage floor, her arm kept chained to the metal desk. She felt cold. And hungry. But there was nothing that she could do about it. She had tried already. She couldn't escape.

  Or, no, maybe she could.

  Big Mike wasn't there. He had left earlier that morning and said that he'd be back soon. Except it hadn't beensoon. He had been gone a while.

  Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he was dead.

  Or maybe he was on his way back.

  Right now.

  She looked down at her wrist. It was cut from all of the times her arm had pulled against the handcuffs.

  But what if she pulled harder? Went further?

  She didn't want to think about breaking her hand or even pulling it completely off of her arm. The thought made her sick. But the idea of staying here any longer made her feel worse.

  She didn't know what would happen if her hand actually came off. There would be a lot of blood and she might feel faint. But she wouldn't allow herself to lose consciousness. She'd wrap it up, apply pressure to it -basic things that she had learned at nursing school. She was sure that she could do it.

  She took a deep breath, had to prepare herself. She knew it was going to hurt. A lot.

  She took another deep breath. Then she closed her eyes. And, without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she grabbed hold of her wrist with her other hand and started to pull.

  The handcuff fought against her. It ripped into her skin. But she didn't give up. She continued to pull. She started to groan.

  Her wrist moved slightly in the handcuff. Not enough to break free. Yet it gave her hope.

  She shifted her position so that her feet were pressed against the desk. This would give her more power. She took a few quick breaths and pulled harder. Then she started to scream. The pain ran up the whole length of her arm and into her shoulder.

  She felt her hand move a little more through the small opening. She wasn't sure if her hand was going to break or come off. She tried not to think about either. She'd deal with it when it happened.

  She continued to pull. And scream. Her legs pushed against the desk. Her arms stretched out in front of her. She could see new blood begin to drip onto the ground. Then, when she thought that she was almost there, someone called to her, "What the fuck are you doing?"

  Claire stopped pulling and looked at the doorway. Big Mike was standing there, shotgun at his side. She didn't answer. The pain was too severe and she had lost her breath.

  "You tryin' to escape?" he asked. "You can't get out of those things! Not unless you're gonna yank your whole hand off. You don't wanna do that, do you?"

  Claire looked back at her hand. Shehad been willing to do that, if that's what it had taken. But she didn't bother telling him that. She kept quiet.

  He walked over to her and bent down. He grabbed her face and made her look at him. Claire wanted to reach out and hit him. Only she couldn't. She was in too much pain. She knew that it wouldn't do any good, anyway. She was trapped.

  "You can't escape," he said. "Don't fuckin' forget that." He tapped her cheek with the barrel of the gun. Then he kissed her in the same spot. "Miss me?"

  Claire still didn't answer. She kept her eyes on her wrist. Big Mike didn't seem to notice. Or care. He pointed to the windows.

  "I guess you had those two keeping you company," he said before he burst into a fit of laughter.

  Claire moved her eyes to look up at him. She had never seen him so excited. He looked happy about something. She just didn't know what.

  Big Mike walked over to a chair at the side of the room and sat down. He placed his shotgun between his legs and started fiddling with it. Claire didn't know what he was doing. Maybe cleaning it. Maybe loading it. She had never had any experience with guns before.

  When Big Mike finished, he looked up.

  "I've got some good news," he said.

  Claire didn't say anything. She was sure that any news that he had wouldn't be good. At least, not for her.

  He stood up. "Don't you want to know what it is?"

  Claire knew that he would get angry if she didn't say anything, but she didn't want to. She didn't care what hisgood news was.

  He walked over toward her. As he did, he stopped by her jeans and picked them up. He had thrown them there when he had torn them off of her...how long ago was that?She didn't know. He grabbed them and tossed them to her.

  "Put them on," he said.

  She snatched them quickly. She wasn't surewhy she was given her clothes back, but she wasn't going to question it.

  Claire's body hurt as she tried to fit into her jeans. Her arm burned with pain. Her fingers found it hard to get a good hold. Even her legs felt weak. Fortunately, she managed. She looked at Big Mike.

  "Now," he said. "Don't get too excited. You know that I like you better with 'em off."

  He laughed again.

  He turned away and walked out into the main part of the gas station. She didn't know where he was going or why. And she still had no idea what she had been allowed to put on her jeans.

  A few seconds later, Big Mike came back into the room. In his hand he was holding a key. He held it up to her.

  "This has been here the whole time," he said. "Just over there." He pointed outside of the room. Claire knew that it was the key to her handcuffs. He was taunting her. "It's fucked that your freedom was so close, huh?"

  Claire tried not to think about it. He was right, though. If someone...anyone...had come along and happened into the gas station while Big Mike was out, they would have found her. They would have found the key. And, assuming that they weren't anything like Big Mike, she could have been freed.

  She wanted to ask him why he hadn't just taken them with him, except she knew the answer. He liked having that type of control, playing those types of games.

  Itwas fucked.

  Big Mike walked over to her and knelt back down beside her.

  "Damn, that shit smells," he said,
pointing at the bucket beside her.

  Along with all of the other degrading things that he had done to her, he had made her use a bucket instead of the toilet. It was filled with her urine and feces. She no longer noticed the smell.

  "I didn't have any other choice," she said.

  He slapped her. "Don't talk back, you fuckin' bitch. Weall have choices. You could've kept it in. Or you could've been real nice to me and I would've let you use the bathroom. I'm not all that mean."

  Claire didn't believe it. She was sure that she had a good idea of who he was and how mean he could be.

  "Now," he said. "Don't get any fuckin' ideas."

  He reached over and grabbed at her handcuffs. He unlocked the one attached to the desk. As it came undone, she felt a strange sense of freedom. She knew that there still wasn't much that she could do to escape. She didn't have the energy. Her body probably wouldn't work for her even if she did. But the release made her feel better.

  "You're free," he said, laughing once more.

  Big Mike stood up. He pulled on Claire's arm to get her to stand too. She felt a surge of pain run down the length of it. She almost screamed out, but was able to stop herself. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

  "Get up!"

  It was hard for her to do so. She had been sitting on the floor for such a long time that her legs weren't that co-operative. Big Mike pulled at her harder.

  "Get the fuck up!"

  She tried her best to stand and, eventually, got herself under control. Though not before Big Mike slapped her a few times. She nearly fell with each blow and was surprised that she didn't.

  Once she was somewhat firmly on her feet, Big Mike looked her over. She could tell that he was checking her out. She was covered in blood and bruises. Her face was swollen. Her clothes ripped. But he was still aroused by her. He still wanted her.

  "It's too bad we don't have time," he said, more to himself than to her. "You know, for one more quick fuck." He spit on the floor. Then he turned to look her in the eyes. "But we will soon enough, don't you worry. Now follow me."

  Big Mike led Claire into the gas station. There was food everywhere. Bags of chips. Pretzels. Candies. Soda pop. Bottles of water. Claire had had almost none of it. Aside from a few bottles of water and a handful or two of chips, Big Mike hadn't given her anything. He saw her staring at the items.

  "Okay, okay," he said. "I should have offered you more. But, man, you're not a very thankful bitch, you know. You're lucky I gave you anything." He slapped her ass.

  Claire looked at him. She still didn't know why she had been uncuffed from the desk. And she wasn't sure if he was ever going to tell her. It could all have simply been another sick game that he wanted to play with her.

  Big Mike walked over to the counter. He grabbed at a bottle of water and brought it back to Claire. He handed it to her.

  "I guess you deserve this," he said.

  She grabbed it from him and quickly twisted the cap. It pained her fingers, but she needed to drink something. She put the bottle to her mouth and drank heavily. Big Mike grabbed at the bottle and pulled it from her hand.

  "Not so fast," he said. "I don't want you gettin' sick. You understand?"

  Claire nodded her head. He handed the bottle back to her. Again, she wanted to finish the whole bottle as quickly as she could, but she stopped herself. She didn't want to risk him taking the bottle away again and, this time, not giving it back. She took a few small sips.

  "That's better," he said. "You're not a fuckin' animal."

  Big Mike walked around the counter and bent down to pick up a backpack. He placed it on the counter and opened it. Then went to search around the store.

  As he passed Claire, he pointed to his eye to let her know that he'd be watching. She didn't think she'd be able to escape anyway. Although the water had been good, it hadn't been enough to give her much energy.

  Big Mike walked around the store. He grabbed several things from the shelves. He reached into the refrigerator as well. It wasn't working, but there were a lot of drinks in there. It didn't matter that they'd be warm. He came back to the counter and tossed everything into his bag. All except for one chocolate bar. He handed that to Claire.

  She held it in her hand at stared at it. She couldn't believe it. It looked so good.

  "Eat it," Big Mike said. "You'll need your energy."

  Claire didn't understand what he meant by that. And, at the moment, she didn't really care. She tore away the wrapper and started to shove the chocolate into her mouth.

  She quickly stopped herself. As with the water, she didn't want Big Mike to take it away from her. She took a small bite.

  "We're leaving," he said.

  Claire stared at him. Shocked. She didn't think that she'd ever manage to get out of this place. She wasn't very hopeful that he'd be taking her to a better place, though.

  "I've met some new friends," Big Mike explained. "We're going to go stay with them."

  Claire looked down at her chocolate. She continued to eat it, but with less vigour. She had been right.He wasn't going to take her to a better place after all.

  Chapter 8

  Adam and Shelly came upon a house. It wasn't actually the first one that they had seen. It was simply the first one that looked okay to approach. The others had been destroyed. Broken windows, smashed doors, bodies lying out in the yard. There had even been a house that had burned down, almost completely.

  "I think this one will be okay," Shelly said.

  Adam wasn't sure, but he was definitely going to check it out.

  They pulled off the road and rode up the gravel driveway. Adam kept looking around, expecting to be attacked. Shelly looked a little more comfortable.

  They came to the front of the house.

  "Let's leave our bikes here," Adam said. He pointed to the wall near the steps leading up to the front door. He wanted to be able to grab the bikes quickly if they needed to. He placed his bike against it. Shelly followed.

  "Now…"

  "I know," Shelly cut him off. "Be careful."

  She smirked, then added a laugh. Adam couldn't get himself to join her. He walked up to the front door.

  "Stay behind me."

  Shelly did as she was told, the laughter fading.

  Adam opened the door. It creaked loudly as he did. Instead of thinking about it, though, his thoughts had focused on something else.

  "The gun," he said. "We should have the gun out and ready."

  It was a good idea. And it had been his own.He was getting the hang of this stuff.

  Shelly reached into his backpack and pulled it out for him. She took out the ammunition too and loaded it.

  "Here," she said, handing it back to him. "Now it'syour turn to be careful."

  This time she wasn't joking around. He took the gun back from her.

  "Stay behind me," he said again.

  They walked into the house. Adam held the gun in front of him. Maybe a little bit too far out in front of him. If any of those things were hiding around a corner, they'd be able to knock it away from him. But he felt more comfortable with it out there. As though it were guiding him.

  Adam took a few more steps into the house. It smelled. Bad. It wasn't hard to figure out that there were some dead bodies somewhere around.

  "Over there," Shelly said. She had smelled it too and then seen the corpses in the living room.

  Adam looked to where she was pointing. Two dead bodies. One man, one woman. They were covered in blood, torn apart.

  "Looks like they killed each other," Shelly added.

  "I guess so."

  Adam didn't want to talk much. He wanted to keep quiet. He wasn't sure if there weren't any more of thosethings around. They needed to keep searching.

  They walked through the rest of the house.

  "There's no one here except for those two," Adam said when they got back to the living room. He pointed at the dead bodies.

  "Are we going to stay?" Shelly asked.
This house wasn't as nice as the one that they had stayed at in the city, but it would be getting dark very soon and they needed a place to spend the night.

  "I think so. But we can't stay with those two in here. We'll have to take them out."Another idea that was his. Then he changed his mind. "Actually, you don't have to help me. I can take them out on my own."

  "No, it's okay. I'll help you with them."

  Adam felt the urge to argue with her, to protect her from having to deal with these things, but she wanted to help. And she had already seen much worse.Her parents.

  "Okay," Adam said. "You take the feet."

  Adam and Shelly walked over to the corpses. He placed his gun on the floor beside them. As he did, he saw Shelly scrunch her nose. It wasn't that the smell was any worse here, but they could see the damage that had been done all that much more closely.

  "Try not to look at it," Adam said.

  Shelly nodded her head and bent down into place.

  Adam bent down too. He wrapped his arms around the first corpse,the man. Adam could see the gouges in the man's face done by the finger nails of the woman lying next to him.

  "On the count of three," he said and tried not to look down as he counted. "One, two, three."

  They lifted the body. It was much heavier than either of them had expected, but they managed to carry it over to the front door. Adam placed his back against it and pushed it open.

  "Where should we take it?" Shelly asked once they were outside.

  "How about over there?" Adam motioned to a spot far away from the house.

  It took them a while to get there. Both Adam and Shelly had to keep shuffling, moving their weight to hold the body. When they finally arrived, they dropped it heavily onto the ground. Both were winded.

  "That was hard," Shelly said.

  "And we have another one."

  They two went back to get the woman. She was a lot lighter than the man, but she was still difficult. She was also in a lot worse shape. Her face was covered in black and blue splotches. Her left cheek had been smashed in, her nose broken. Her arms felt as though they had been broken in several places as well. But they were able to get her outside. They dropped her beside the man.