Glory (Book 1) (8 page)

It was then that Adam remembered that he was also carrying a knife. He held it out toward the man.

"I said get out!"

The man didn't argue. He scurried past Adam and out of the room. "Fuckin' prick," he said as he went. "Was just trying to have a little fun!"

Adam felt his anger continue to rise. He grasped the knife tighter and it took everything he had to stop himself from stabbing it into the man as he ran away. He followed him out of the room.

The man didn't look back at him. He made his way to the door and left.

Adam went to the door next and locked it. He felt like punching something. Anything. But he needed to check on the young girl.

He walked back to the bedroom. The girl was lying on the bed, curled up into a ball. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Adam stood in the doorway.

"It's okay," he said softly.

She looked up at him, sheepishly. She was expecting another attack.

"I won't hurt you," Adam said.

She didn't look so sure.

Adam walked over and grabbed the blanket. It had been lying on the floor. He put it over the top of the girl. She clutched onto it tightly. He could see that she was starting to feel a little bit better.

After a while, Adam spoke.

"My name is Adam," he said. "What's yours?"

The girl looked at him. She had stopped crying but her eyes were still red.

"I'm Shelly," she said.

Adam smiled. "It's nice to meet you." He held his hand out to shake. She didn't grab it in return. "Why don't you take some time," he added. "I'll wait for you in the living room whenever you're ready."

Shelly nodded her head.

Adam left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Chapter 2

Jane walked down her staircase and entered her front hallway. She had her backpack slung over her arm. She had packed it with some clothes. Had put a few knives in there also.

In her hand was a baseball bat. She had found it in the basement. After her encounter with Harold, it seemed like a good idea.

She made her way toward the back door.

She looked around as she passed her living room, the place where she used to play with her daughter, where she used to watch television with her husband.

She had had a good life.

Memories of that life kept coming back to her. Phil trying to put together the entertainment cabinet. Becky learning to stand up. Jane eating popcorn as she watched a scary movie.

Now there would be no more memories made here. Her life in this house was over. Her life, as she knew it, had changed.

She forced herself to turn away. There was no point in thinking about those things. She had to focus on the present. She needed to concentrate on survival.

She went to the back door and looked cautiously through its window once she got there. She didn't see anything outside.

She opened the door slowly and listened. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She could hear some birds singing in the trees out back. She could hear wind rustling through the leaves.

Jane waited a moment and took it all in. She took a deep breath, tried to calm herself, then she stepped out of her house and onto her deck. She didn't bother closing the door behind her. She didn't need to. She wasn't worried about what was going to happen to her house once she left.

She walked into the backyard.

Before she got very far, she turned back around. She wanted to see her house one more time and didn't have the willpower to stop herself. It felt strange knowing that she would never be going back in there again. This was her home.

No, not anymor
e
.

She tried not to think about it. There was no point. Things had changed. That was all that she needed to know. All that she needed to deal with.

Jane turned and faced the trees behind her house. Her home backed out onto a big forest. It stretched for quite a long way. She often hiked out there with her husband. She had taken her daughter there a lot too. The little girl had been too small to do much walking, but she knew that Becky had loved it.

Becky. Her silly little goose.

Jane turned and looked at the large maple tree where she had buried her daughter. She saw the freshly dug grave. Harold laid dead beside it.

She thought about going over to the grave, touching it one more time, but she shook her head and told herself that none of that mattered anymore. Her daughter was dead. Her husband was missing. Jane was alone and needed to deal with it.

"I love you," she mouthed toward the grave. "I'm sorry."

That was all that she managed.

Jane turned and started walking toward the forest. She needed to get moving. She didn't know where she was headed. She told herself that anywhere would be better than here. She might even meet some other survivors. Hopefully. For all Jane knew, she was the only one left. That thought played heavily in her mind.

Am I the only one?

She tried not to worry about it. As with everything else that had happened, there was nothing that she could do about it. No answers. No help. Nothing.

Jane hiked her backpack up over her shoulders again. She got another strong grip on the baseball bat and walked into the forest, never looking back.

Chapter 3

Adam sat on the sofa and looked out of the window. He couldn't stop thinking about the girl, wondering if she was okay. Several times he had thought of going into her room to check on her, to make sure that everything was fine. But he knew that she needed her space. He was a stranger to her. If anything, he would scare her.

Just like that man ha
d
.

Adam thought about the man, how he had been on top of the young girl. He hadn't been trying to bite her neck as Adam had first thought. He had been trying to kiss her. After all that had happened in the past couple of days, Adam just couldn't understand why anyone would have done something like that; let alone with someone not even in her teens. It didn't make any sense to him.

Adam rubbed his chin and shivered.

He pictured the man's face. His surprise. He thought of the man's words
:
We can share he
r
.

What the hell had that guy been thinking?

Adam couldn't understand it.

Now the young woman was safe. He had come in at the right time and saved her. He felt a twinge of pride at this. It felt good helping someone. And, even though he still felt anger toward the man who had attacked her, Adam felt a smile curve his lips upward.

"He said that he wanted to help," a voice said, taking him by surprise.

Adam turned around. Standing there was Shelly. She was clutching her blanket to her chest.

"What?"

"The man. He said that he wanted to help me."

Shelly walked closer into the room. She still looked a little bit hesitant to come near Adam, but he knew that she was feeling more comfortable than before.

"He did?"

"Yeah." Shelly came all the way into the living room and sat down on a recliner chair. "He saw me from outside. I was looking out the window. At first I thought that he was one of those people - the ones who've gone crazy. But then he waved. And smiled."

Adam nodded his head. He was listening intently. He didn't really want to hear the details. He thought that they would upset him too much. But he wanted the young girl to trust him. In order to do that he needed to listen.

"He came upstairs and knocked on my door," she went on. "I didn't open it at first. I was scared. But he told me not to worry. That he was here to help."

Shelly paused and looked out of the window. Her eyes focused on something that Adam couldn't make out. He decided to wait for her to continue. It wasn't long before she did.

"So, I let him in." She seemed ashamed. "I didn't know what else to do."

"It's okay. I would have done the same thing."

"You would have?"

"Sure. You were scared. It's understandable."

"It is?"

"Of course it is."

"It was also stupid," Shelly added.

"Maybe," Adam admitted. He didn't want to lie to her. He didn't want to risk losing her trust. "But you had to find out. You couldn't have known."

"I guess you're right," she said, weakly.

Adam continued to look at her. She clutched her blanket, looking younger holding it that way. Like a child. He felt such empathy for her. He wanted to go over and hug her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, except he knew that that wouldn't be okay to do. She'd be frightened. Possibly run away.

He sat and waited.

"He said his name was Sam," she said. "Before I let him in, he introduced himself. He said his name was Sam and that he was going to help me. I thought everything was going to be okay."

"It's going to be okay now," Adam assured her. "Try not to worry about it."

"I even poured him a glass of juice."

Shelly pointed to the kitchen table. Adam hadn't noticed it before, but there it was. A half empty glass of orange juice. He felt disgust that the man had had his lips pressed against it. The same lips that were on this young girl's neck. He wanted to stand up and throw the glass away. He didn't want to startle the young girl, though. Again, he decided to wait.

"I thought that he was going to be nice."

Adam looked at her. He wanted her to stop talking, to stop blaming herself. He knew that that's what she was thinking and it didn't do any good to think those things. He also knew that she needed to talk about it, to get it out.

"He even said that he had a daughter like me. That her name was April. She had turned into one of thos
e
peopl
e
. He said that she attacked him. He was able to get away. He didn't know what happened to her after."

Her voice trailed off.

Finally, Adam decided that he needed to say something about it. He couldn't let her keep going on as though she had done something wrong.

"Listen," he said. "It wasn't your fault."

Shelly looked up at him. She didn't seem to believe him.

"You couldn't've known that he was going to attack you," he continued. "Eve
nI
'm shocked by it. No one could have known. You did nothing wrong."

"Are you sure?" She looked like she wanted to believe him.

"Of course I'm sure. You di
d
nothin
g
wrong. He was the one who did something wrong. He was the one who should feel bad about it. He was the one..."

Adam could feel his temper rising again and he didn't want to startle her. It was just that the thought of the man drove him wild. He took a few deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I don't want to scare you."

Shelly sat more upright.

"You don't," she said. "I know that you're not like that man
-
Sa
m
."

Adam smiled. Then he laughed. "I should hope not!"

Shelly smiled too.

"Anyway," Adam continued, "he's gone now. You don't have to worry about him. You just need to learn from this."

"Learn from this?"

"Things have changed. People aren't the same as they used to be. And I'm not just talking about th
e
creature
s
. I guess everyone has changed in some way. You need to be careful from now on. W
e
al
l
do."

Shelly dropped her head. "I guess you're right," she said sadly.

Adam could see the hurt within her. He hadn't really thought about not being able to trust people until this moment. It pained him too. He looked at the young woman.

"But you can trust me," he said.

She looked up. "I can?"

"Always."

She smiled again.

Adam stood up and walked over to the glass of orange juice. He picked it up and tossed the juice into the sink. He threw the glass into the garbage.

"We won't have to look at that anymore," he said. "And you won't have to worry about it, either."

Shelly looked considerably happier. Adam felt proud once again. Here was a person that he had managed to save. Twice. First from a horrible man. Second from despair.

He walked back to the couch.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

Shelly nodded her head.

*

Adam and Shelly sat in the living room for a little while longer. Neither of them said anything for quite some time. It wasn't that they had nothing to say or didn't want to talk to one another. They simply needed to absorb all that had been said. Adam was also thinking about what they should do next.

He turned to the young girl. "Do you mind me asking your age?"

She looked up at him, breaking her concentration. "I'm eleven."

Adam nodded. He also wanted to scream. He figured she was around that age, but hearing it was another thing
.
There was a man who had tried to rape her! Eleven years old
!
He looked at her eyes. He could tell that she was getting scared. He calmed himself down.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just thinking..."  He stopped himself from saying what he was thinking. She was too young for that. "I was just thinking that you look so much older."

Shelly smiled.

At her expression, Adam felt a sadness build up in him. She looked so beautiful there, so innocent. And here had come along a man, willing to destroy that.

With effort, he smiled back.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Me? I'm thirty-one. I guess you find that pretty old, huh?"

Shelly laughed. "That's not old. My parents ar
e
ol
d
. They are forty-five!"

At the mention of her parents, both Adam and Shelly stopped speaking. They had broached a serious subject. It wasn't one that Adam wanted to get into, but he knew that it was inevitable.

"Wher
e
ar
e
your parents?" he asked after a moment.

"They are dead," she said. Her tone matter-of-fact.

"They are?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"I saw them."

"Where?"

"In their bedroom."

Shelly pointed to a room. Adam's eyes went to it immediately. The door was closed.

"They are in there?"

"Uh-huh."

Adam felt a bit of panic creep into him. He hadn't heard anything on the other side of the door, but that didn't mean that they weren't still in there
.
Aliv
e.
Waiting to attack
.
Sure, Shelly had said that they were dead. But how could an eleven-year old be sure about something like that?

Adam stood up.

"Wait here," he said.

He made his way over to the bedroom door. He took soft, cautious steps. He knew it was a bit ridiculous since he and Shelly had just been speaking loudly, laughing; but he did it, nonetheless.

He came upon the door and put his hand on the door knob. Before he turned it open, he placed his ear to the door to listen for any sounds on the other side.

Nothing.

He looked back at Shelly. She had kept her eyes on him. He tried to give her a reassuring smile. He even lifted up a thumb to let her know that everything was okay.

Adam turned the knob and opened the door.

Immediately, he saw the young girl's parents. They were both lying across the floor of the room. Blood was splattered everywhere. The room was a mess. The bed had been disheveled. Clothes had been thrown all over the place. A night stand was knocked over. As was a bureau.

Adam looked closely at Shelly's parents. Their faces had been torn to pieces. Deep fingernail gouges cut across their cheeks and foreheads. Both of their throats had been ripped open.

And Shelly had seen this?

Adam turned back to look at the young girl. She hadn't moved from her spot.

He left the room and closed the door.

"It'll be okay," he said. The words sounded strange to him
.
How could he tell her that things were going to be fine
?
She didn't seem to notice. "We won't be able to stay here, though."

At first, Shelly looked like she wanted to argue, but she closed her mouth and nodded.

"Let's go pack up your things," Adam said. "We won't leave tonight. It'll probably start getting dark soon, so we're better off waiting for the morning."

Shelly made to turn away. As she did, Adam put his hand on her shoulder. She wasn't surprised by his touch, nor was she afraid of it. She turned back to face him.

"I'm sorry about your parents," he said.

"Charlie and Olivia," Shelly said. "Those were their names."

Adam nodded his head and led Shelly into her bedroom to pack.