Glory (Book 2)

by Michael McManamon

  Her father had never hit her before, so it had taken her by surprise. Her only reaction had been to curl into the corner of the elevator and remain quiet. And, though she didn't know it, that had probably saved her life.

  The real fighting had started then.

  Emily had heard it through the little hands she had placed at the side of her head. The grunting. The screaming. A few times someone had grabbed hold of her, but she had remained quiet and whoever it was seemed to lose interest.

  After a while, the fighting had stopped. She had heard a few growls and what sounded like crying, but even that had eventually come to an end.

  Emily hadn't moved since.She just couldn't.She was worried that someone was going to reach out and grab her. She had almost all but forgotten that her father was one of these people.

  Her father.

  She built up her courage and reached out her hand. She came upon the body closest to her and hoped that it was him. That he was just sleeping. That whatever had happened to him had passed.

  As she shook at the body, she felt a thick liquid cover her fingers. It didn't even occur to her that it could be blood. The most she had ever seen was when she had fallen off her little bicycle and scraped her knee. That had been bad. But nothing compared to this.

  "Dad?" she whispered. She shook the body again. "Is that you?"

  There was no reply.

  "Daddy?" She shook the body with more force.

  When that had no effect, she began to hit it. Blood splattered onto her cheeks. She felt it land on her skin, but was too concerned to give it much thought.

  "Dad," she cried. "Daddy!"

  Still there was no reply.

  Emily pulled her hand away from the body. It had occurred to her that this might not be her father. Maybe it was one of the other two people. Maybe her father was sleeping somewhere else.

  She reached out and touched one of the other bodies. Her fingers dipped into something warm that made a soft squishing sound. She pulled back, not knowing what it was. She knew enough that she didn't want to touch it again.

  She could feel the tears building in her eyes. She often cried. Her father had always told her to be strong. And she wanted to be. She simply didn't know what else to do.

  "Daddy, please!"

  She reached around and touched another body. She made sure not to touch in the same spot she had last time. She came upon an arm and fumbled around until she grabbed at the hand.

  This was her father. She knew it right away. She had held his hand so many times. The feel was unmistakable. She wrapped her fingers around his.

  She placed her other hand on his wrist and let out a sigh.There was his watch. It was him.

  She crawled over next to her father and began pulling at him.

  "Dad," she said. "Wake up."

  Nothing.

  "Daddy. Wake up, please."

  She started to pull more forcefully. She needed to wake him. He was sleeping. She knew it. He had to be. Something had happened and now he was asleep.

  "Daddy!"

  Nothing.

  "Daaaddddyyy!"

  Emily ran her fingers up her father's arm until they touched his face. Something felt wrong with his jaw, but she ignored it. She lowered her head closer to his.

  "Wake up," she pleaded. "Please!"

  Chapter 7

  Alice stood by the window while John was seated on one of the chairs near the workbench. His body hurt from the fall.

  "What are you doing over there?" he called to his wife.

  She turned to look at him. The light bulb didn't do much to illuminate her from where she was standing, but he could still see the panic on her face. "I want to know what's happening out there," she said. Her voice came out rushed, like shots from a machine gun.

  John shook his head. "No you don't, honey. Come back over here."

  "No. I want to know. I have to look."

  Alice placed her foot on the stool that John had fallen off of. He went to stand and stop her, but a pain shot down his side. He winced.

  "No, Alice," he tried again. "Don't look out there!"

  He didn't want his wife to see what he had seen. More than that, he didn't want any of those people outside to seethem.He thought it was better if no one knew that he and his wife were down in the basement.The door upstairs could only hold out for so long, and against so many.

  His wife didn't listen. She placed out her hands and rested them on the wall for support. She stood onto the stool. Her balance was better than her husband's, but John was still worried that she might fall.

  "Alice, please!"

  She turned back to look at him. "I want to see what's happening. Help might've come. It might have, John. It just might have!"

  John could hear the desperate hope in her words. He wished for the same thing. Except, deep down, he new that help hadn't come. It might never.

  "Listen to it outside, Alice," he said. They could both hear the fighting, crashing, screaming. "Help isn't out there."

  "It might be John. It just might!"

  "We'd hear it if it was. Sirens. People shouting out for survivors. Anything! But listen to it, Alice. Just listen to it!"

  Alice cocked her head toward the window. Her eyes opened wide. It was as though she had never really been paying attention to what had been going on out there.

  "I have to check." She turned away from her husband to look outside.

  "Alice, no!"

  John watched as she got onto her toes to take a better look. Then she screamed, "John, there's a man out here. I think he's dead!"

  He hadn't told her about the man that he had seen because he hadn't wanted her to worry. Now she knew. "Alice, come back."

  "There's blood everywhere," his wife continued, ignoring him. She was talking about on the man's face. His nose and mouth were dripping with it. It even seemed to be coming from the man's eyes. "Did you see him? Do you know who he is?"

  "No, I don't know who he is. Please, stop looking out there."

  "He has to be one of our neighbours, doesn't he? Oh, John, why would they have done this to each other?"

  John didn't know. He didn't want to keep talking about it, either. Not with his wife standing on a stool, looking out the window.

  "Come on, Alice. Come back over here."

  "But…" Alice's voice broke off when she saw a set of feet walk in front of her and stop. She stifled a scream, yet a little squeak came out of her.

  "What is it, honey?" John called to her. "What's wrong?"

  Alice didn't answer. She watched as whoever was out there dropped to his knees. She saw his hands. The were covered in dirt, covered in blood. They began searching over the dead body, grabbing at the corpse's face, pulling at its hair. Then the man outside lowered his own head and started biting into the dead body.

  Alice could only make out the top of the person's head as he bobbed up and down, chewing on the dead being.

  She didn't know what was happening. Shecouldn't have. She had never seen anything like this before. She had never evenimaginedanything like this before.

  She wanted to scream. Nothing came out.

  She wanted to move. Her body wouldn't listen.

  She continued to look. Tostare.

  Then the man stopped moving. His head stopped bobbing up and down. His fingers stopped grabbing frantically at the dead body.

  Alice held her breath. Now she didn't want to scream or move. She didn't want to do anything that would attract the man's attention. Unfortunately, he looked up at her anyway.

  "Mr. Williams?" she said as soon as she saw his face.

  It was her neighbour. He was covered in dirt. Blood dripped from his mouth. His eyes bulged. He looked angry - angrier than anyone Alice had ever seen before.

  Mr. Williams looked at Alice for a moment, then he screamed.

  Alice stumbled back; enough to get her off of the stool. Luckily, she didn't fall to the ground like her husband. She took a few more steps back and watched as Mr. Williams sm
ashed his fists against the window. The glass broke and shattered at her feet.

  "What's going on?" John screamed to his wife.

  "It's Mr. Williams," Alice screamed back. "He's gone crazy!"

  "Get away from there!"

  Alice didn't move. There were bars on the window. And, like her husband had assured her, Mr. Williams (or anyone else for that matter) wouldn't be able to get in through them.

  "Alice, please!"

  She stood there as Mr. Williams reached out his hand and tried to grab her. His fingers clutched at the air. His breaths came at her in violent bursts.

  "Alice, get away from the window!"

  She knew that she should should listen to her husband, but she couldn't get herself to do it. She even took a step closer.

  "Are you crazy, woman?" John shouted at her. "Get over here now!"

  Alice took another step and then stopped.That was close enough. Any more and she would fall into the grasp of Mr. Williams. She knew that he'd try to kill her if that happened.

  "Mr. Williams," she said. "Can you hear me? Can you understand?"

  Mr. Williams continued to scream. He continued to grab at her. He didn't give any indication that he understood.

  "Mr. Williams," she said again. "It's me...Alice." She didn't know why she was trying to speak to him, but some part of her wanted to try to get through to him. Maybe if she could, then it would all go away. He'd turn back to normal. Everything would be fine. "Mr. Williams?"

  John continued to yell at her, though she was too busy thinking about Mr. Williams. She tried to get a closer view of her neighbour. Something had happened to him. He had gone crazy. Theyall had.

  Then, without thinking, she raised out her hand and moved to touch him.

  Before she had the chance, however, someone came up from behind her neighbour and placed a set of hands around his neck. Mr. Williams was pulled away.

  Alice couldn't see what was happening. But she could hear it. There was a fight.One to the death.

  She continued to stand there, to stare in disbelief, as the sounds got louder.

  Once they died down, she waited for Mr. William's to come back to the window.Or the other person. But that was the end of it. No one came.

  She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was her husband. He was standing beside her, obviously in pain. Obviously worried about her.

  "What were you doing?" John asked her.

  She looked at him and shook her head. The image of her neighbour came back to her. The blood on his face. The man he had been eating. The man he had fought.It was all too much to take in.

  "I don't know," she said. She looked into her husband's eyes. "What's happened to everyone? Tell me!"

  John grabbed hold of his wife. "I don't know," he said.

  His wife began to cry.

  *

  John held his wife for a bit longer before he led her back to the chairs by the workbench. She mumbled something into his chest as they walked.

  "It's okay," John said. "We'll be all right."

  He helped her onto the seat. He sat down too.

  "We won't be all right," Alice argued. "Didn't you see that thing?Mr. Williams?"

  "Yes, I saw him. But he's gone now. We'll be safe down here."

  "They've all changed.All of them!They're all trying to kill themselves. Killus!"

  "I know. We just need to relax and think about things."

  He grabbed his wife's hand. He wasn't all that calm himself, but he couldn't let his wife keep getting worked up. He had to make her see that things might get better.

  She stared back at the window. "Mr. Williams."

  John looked over at the window as well, expecting to see their neighbour there. The window was empty. His wife had simply been talking, remembering what she had seen.

  "It's okay now," John said. "We'll be fine."

  He didn't feel all too sure about his words. Not when they could still hear the chaos outside, the destruction, thekilling. Not when he didn't know when it was going to stop or how there were going to get out of it.

  He squeezed his wife's hand again.

  "We'll be fine."

  Chapter 8

  The screaming continued outside, though it had started to die down. John could smell smoke, but he didn't know what was burning. He didn't think that he had to worry about it much, either.

  "Are you okay?" he asked his wife.

  She didn't answer.

  "Try not to think about it," he continued. "Abouthim."

  Alice looked at her husband, meekly. Sadness in her eyes. And fear. She'd never forget seeing Mr. Williams in the window, reaching out to grab her. The blood on his face.

  "We'll be fine down here," John added.

  Alice continued to look at her husband. Then she started to yell at him. "No, we won't be fine! We're trapped in our basement. We don't know what's going on outside. We don't know what's happened!"

  John hands were still on his wife's. He tried rubbing the back of it a few times to calm her down. It didn't have much of an effect.

  "We're trapped!" Alice went on. "Trapped!"

  John turned away from his wife and looked around the basement. They were trapped. But it wasn't the worst situation they could be in. There were some cans of pop over in the far corner. Beside them were a few cans of soup and vegetables. At least they had some food and drink for a while.

  "Let me get you a drink," John said.

  His wife looked horrified at the mention of it. "Oh, John," she pleaded. "Don't go upstairs! They'll get you! They'llkill you! I know it. Then I'll be left down here all alone. Please, John. Don't go!"

  John rubbed the back of her hand again. "It's okay, honey. I was just talking about over there." He motioned with his head.

  His wife looked and saw the cans.This was where they stored them, she knew that. She laughed nervously at her mistake.

  "Of course," she said. "Just don't go upstairs."

  "I won't. Trust me."

  He let go of his wife's hand and walked over to the far wall. His body continued to ache, but it seemed to be getting better. He reached over and picked up a can of pop.

  As he did, the light bulb overhead went out.

  John stood in the dark basement and looked back at his wife. He could barely see her; though the flames from the fire outside helped. He heard her whimper.

  "What is it, John?" she called to him. "What happened? Why is the light out? Did you turn it off?"

  "No," John called back. He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible, but inside he was worried. He knew that the power had gone out.Probably all over the neighbourhood. And he didn't think that it was going to come back on anytime soon. "I didn't turn it off. It's just a little power failure."

  "Alittle power failure? Oh, John!"

  He took the can and made his way back over to his wife. He opened the pop and placed it down in front of her.

  "Here," he said. "Drink this."

  His wife grabbed hold of the can, but she didn't drink from it. He could see her hands wrapped tightly around it. He reached out and rubbed them again.

  "Just take a sip," he said. "It'll make you feel better."

  "I don't think anything will make me feel better."

  John felt a stab of hurt with her words after all he had been trying to do to comfort her. But he knew that she hadn't meant them about him. She was scared, that was all.

  "Just a little sip," he said.

  Alice raised the can to her lips and took a sip, then placed the can down on the table. John could see that it hadn't worked.

  "Give it some time," he said. "Like you thought, maybe help will come. It might already be on its way."

  Alice didn't look as though she believed that anymore. She shook her head and lowered her eyes. "Oh, John." Her words were followed by another scream, another crash.

  John looked around the basement, wishing that the power was still on. That had given him a little bit of comfort. Now that it was out things seemed mo
re sinister. And a lot more hopeless.

  Things also felt…cold.

  The idea hit John heavily. It was going to get chilly in the basement tonight and he and his wife didn't have much to keep them warm.

  He thought about going upstairs to grab a blanket or something for them. Maybe a sweater or two. Except he knew that Alice wouldn't let him. He wasn't all too sure how much he wanted to go up there anyway.

  He searched around the basement for something -anything - to keep them warm.

  "What is it, John?" Alice asked. "What are you looking for?"

  John opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. She was already worried. He didn't need to add anything more to it.

  "What, John?"

  "It's nothing," he replied. "I was just looking around, seeing if there was anything we could use."

  "Use? Use for what?"

  "For nothing. Just to use."

  Alice didn't seem to understand, but she didn't bother any more with it. She shook her head and looked back at the can of pop in her hands. She sat there for a little bit more before she started to cry again.

  "Please, Alice," John said. "Everything will be okay."

  His wife raised her eyes to look at him. Her face surprised him. She looked older than he had ever known.

  "It won't be okay," she mumbled. "It just won't be."

  John didn't bother to say anything more. He knew that there was nothing that he could do at the moment to make his wife feel any better. Well, that wasn't true. He moved his chair closer to his wife and wrapped his arms around her. She fell into his grasp and continued to sob. He'd just have to wait until she stopped.

  Chapter 9

  Marianne opened her eyes. She was lying on the floor and didn't know how she had gotten there. She ran her hands across her eyes.

  What happened?

  Marianne could see the bottom of her mother's bed. At least she knew where she was. She couldn't see much else, though. The room was almost dark.

  She squinted her eyes and thought that she could see something underneath the bed, on the other side.

  What is that? she asked herself.

  Marianne took a few deep breaths and sat up. She leaned against her mother's bedroom wall.