"We've gotta try," her friend, Rachel, replied.
They got down to work. But, before they got very far, they were interrupted by someone.
"Excuse me," a voice said.
The girls looked up from their text books. They were surprised to see a handsome man standing before them.
"Yes?" Rachel asked.
He ignored her and looked directly at Claire.
"My name is Simon," he said. He held out his hand for her to shake. She did so, unsure of what was happening. "I would like to ask you to dinner."
The other girls laughed. It was such a strange way to ask. Something from a past era. Though not to Claire. It had sounded just right.
"Okay," she replied immediately. "Where?"
Surprisingly, Simon looked taken off guard. "I...well..." he stammered.
"Is everything okay?" Claire asked. "Have you changed your mind?"
"I...uh...no. To be honest, I didn't think you were going to say 'yes'."
Claire and the other girls laughed at this.
"But I have," Claire said. "So, where would you like to take me?"
Simon tried his best to gather his composure. "I know a nice little Italian restaurant. They serve the best ravioli."
Again, the girls giggled. Claire ignored them. She could see Simon continue to redden.
"That sounds good. How about tomorrow night? We could meet here first."
Simon nodded his head. "Great," he said, maybe a little bit too enthusiastically. "I'll see you tomorrow. Let's say seven o'clock?"
"See you then," Claire said.
Simon turned away and walked out of the door. There was a huge smile on his face. He still couldn't believe that she had said 'yes', but he was happy that she had.
*
Now, a few months later, they lay together, getting ready to take the big step.
"Are you sure that you want to?" Simon asked.
Claire looked at him and smiled. He was such a considerate guy. He had never pressured her to do anything that she didn't want. He had had sex before, but he didn't mind that she had wanted to wait. She kissed him.
"Yes."
He ran his hand down her arm and over her legs.
"You're so beautiful," he said.
"Thank you."
She kissed him again and ran her own hand down the middle of his chest and over his stomach. Finally, she grabbed his penis. It was already hard. It had been for the past several minutes. She stroked it gently. He moaned. She circled the tip with her finger. He moaned again. She let go and wrapped her arms around him. He followed suit.
"I love you," he said to her.
"I love you too."
He placed his lips against hers and stuck his tongue gently into her mouth, swirling it around. His hand went back to her leg. He moved it against her vagina. Petted it. Ran his fingers through the soft hair.
It was Claire's turn to moan. She could feel herself beginning to get wet. At that, she felt a moment of embarrassment. She did every time he touched her there. But Simon continued to touch her and she soon forgot any of her worries.
He licked her neck. Nibbled her ear. Then he stuck his finger into her and began moving it back and forth.
Claire quickly grabbed his penis again and began stroking it harder and faster. Simon began to move his hips to the rhythm.
She raised her mouth beside his ear and whispered, "Let's do it, now."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Claire had to stop herself from screaming. She knew that Simon was only looking out for her best interests,but she wanted to do it already! She lay over onto her back.
Simon started to press her legs apart. He didn't have to. She opened them willingly. He got on top of her.
Claire could feel him grab himself. He pressed his penis against her. He moved it up and down, spreading her wetness over himself.
She wanted to scream:do it already!
Then he did. He slipped into her slowly. There was a slight pull. But soon he was inside.
He kissed her.
"I really do love you," he said.
"I really do love you too," she replied.
And that was her first time.
*
Claire woke up. She had been dreaming of her old boyfriend. They had broken up over a year ago. She had been the one to do it. He hadn't been a bad guy. She just wanted something more. She knew that he wasn't the right choice for her. It hadn't been all that bad of a break up, anyway. They were still friends. Or they had been. Until everything changed.
She hoped that he was okay, but was sure that he wasn't. She didn't think that many people had survived whatever had happened. If they had, someone would have come to save her by now.Wouldn't they have?
"What are you thinking about?" a voice asked her.
She looked up. It was Big Mike. She pulled at her arm. It was still handcuffed to the desk. She looked down. The bottom half of her remained uncovered. She could see her pants in their pile on the other side of the room.
"Not gonna answer?" Big Mike asked. "That's not very nice."
"I just had a dream," Claire said. Even though she didn't want to, she found that it was better to just answer him.
"Awww," he said. "You know, you're beautiful when you sleep."
She looked away. She couldn't stand the sight of him. She definitely didn't want to hear him try to compliment her.
"Don't be like that," he continued. "I just gave you a compliment. You should at least thank me for it."
She knew what would happen if she didn't. "Thank you," she said. Still, she couldn't make herself look at him.
"You know, you're one of the best pieces of ass I've ever had."
Claire wanted to vomit. She couldn't believe that this man had been inside her.
"I just gave you another compliment."
She knew that he was toying with her. Though there wasn't much that she could do about it.
"Thank you," she said.
"What? You'll have to speak up. I couldn't hear you."
"Thank you," she said again.
Big Mike laughed and walked over to her. When he reached her, he bent down and grabbed her chin in between his fingers. He made her look at him.
"You've got such a pretty face too."
"Thank you," she muttered, her face pinched between his fingers.
"Actually, I stand corrected," Big Mike said. "You've got abeautiful face!"
"Thank you," she said once more. He squeezed her face harder, making it more difficult to understand any of what she had said. It made Big Mike happy, anyway.
He let her go. She dropped her head and stared at the floor. Big Mike stood up.
"Get up," he said.
She looked up. "What?"
"Get up. Stand up!"
Big Mike didn't give her anytime to respond. He simply grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. She could barely stand on them. She was weak with exhaustion. She couldn't remember the last time she had had something to eat or drink.
"Good," Big Mike said. "Turn around."
Again, he didn't give her any time. He pushed her shoulders so that her back was to him. Then he forced her face onto the table. It smashed heavily against it. Claire let out a small sigh of pain. She closed her eyes. She could feel his hands running all over her legs and behind.
"What a fuckin' ass!" he said.
She heard him undo his belt buckle. It clanged loudly in the silence. Then he dropped his pants. She heard them slide down.
Claire bit her lip. She knew what was going to happen. She knew that it was going to hurt. But she also knew that she would survive it. She had to. She felt her anger well up in her.When the time was right, she could get her revenge on the fuckin' piece of shit.
Claire heard Big Mike spit into his hand. She closed her eyes as he rubbed it over his penis. Then he stuck himself into her. The second man ever to do so.
Chapter 2
>
Jane felt a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes quickly, unsure what was happening. She thought that it was her family,her dead husband and daughter; that they had somehow managed to catch up with her. Or maybe it was another of the creatures. She felt panic.
She tried to pull away, but found she was too weak.
She tried to scream. Her mouth was covered.
"You have to be quiet."
Bent down beside her was an older man. He had greying hair and wrinkles around his eyes. He didn't look like one of thosethings. She didn't think that he wasn't there to attack her.
She stared at him for a few seconds longer, then tried to speak. The man still had his hand across her mouth and her words came out mumbled. He removed it, slowly.
"You have to be quiet," he said again.
As his hand come off of her mouth, Jane had doubts that any of this was actually happening. This might be another horrible dream. She had been plagued by them since everything had changed. She still wasn't completely sure that she wasn't the last survivor, either. The idea had gone through her head quite a bit.
She just didn't know what to believe.
Finally, she spoke. "Are you real?" she asked.
The man smiled. "Of course, I'm real," he said. "That's an interesting question, though."
"You mean that I'm not the last person alive?"
"Good Lord, no. I'm here."
"Is there anyone else?"
The man took a few seconds to respond. He was obviously struggling with the answer.
"Not here," he said. "It's just me."
His answer sunk in, but it didn't bother Jane all that much. To her, one other survivor was better than none. It meant that there might be others somewhere else as well.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"Glendale."
"Glendale? Really?"
Jane knew the town. She had been there a few times before. It was a far drive from her house -and she had managed to walk there. She wasn't sure how long it had taken.
"Who are you?" she asked next.
"Charles," he said. "But let's save the introductions for later. We should get back to my house as quick as possible."
Jane looked around. She was sitting in a playground. She remembered running to it, trying to get away from her family. Herdead family. She knew there could be danger nearby.
Charles stood up. "Can you stand?"
Jane tried to get up. It was difficult for her at first. Charles lent a hand and help her to rise. He steadied her. She took a few deep breaths and fought for her balance. She started to feel a bit better.
"I'm okay now," she said.
"Follow me."
The man led her out of the park. She hadn't noticed it before, but there were a few bodies lying around the place. There were what looked like a few mothers over on the park benches. They had torn each other to pieces.
Then there were the children.
Jane tried not to look, but she couldn't help herself.
A boy and girl lay dead at the bottom of the slide. Their necks had been torn open. There was blood all over their hands and faces.
Underneath a tree was another young boy. Beside him was his dog. Both were dead. It looked as though the boy had killed the dog, then something had killed the boy.
There were three little girls in the sandbox. Their little sun dresses had been torn from their bodies. Their hair had been pulled out. Again, their necks were torn open. Their blood had seeped into the sand and coloured it a dark brown.
"Don't look," Charles said. It broke Jane's concentration.
"Did this happen everywhere?" she asked.
"Let's talk about it inside. I'll make you a nice tea."
The offer sounded strange to Jane. Here she was, surrounded by several dead children, and their mothers and this man was offering her tea. She was about to refuse solely on the principal of the whole thing. But the reality was that she was thirsty. And a cup of tea, no matter how weird, also sounded good.
Chapter 3
Jane was seated at a kitchen table. She could see Charles boiling some tea for her. He was using a little camp stove. She was still nervous and confused about everything that had happened over the past few days. She was also exhausted. But, at least, she was starting to calm down. It couldn't be said that she was feeling good yet. Just better.
Charles poured the hot water into a cup and brought it to her. He sat it down on the table.
"I hope you like camomile," he said.
"I do. Thanks."
Jane looked down at the tea. She could see wisps of steam curling up from the liquid. She wanted to take a drink of it right away. She was so thirsty. But she knew that she had to wait. She didn't want to burn her mouth. Of course, she could have simply asked Charles for some colder water to pour into it. Unfortunately, the thought didn't occur to her.
She looked back at Charles. He had sat directly across from her. He seemed like a nice enough man. Gentle. Calm.
"So, what happened?" she asked. It was one of the thoughts that was foremost on her mind. She hoped that he had an answer.
"You mean with all of the people?"
Jane nodded her head.
"I don't know," he admitted. He shrugged his shoulders.
Jane couldn't hide her disappointment. She wanted…no,needed… to know what had happened to everyone. What had happened to her husband and daughter? What had made them change? What had caused them to try to kill her?
"I'm sorry that I can't tell you much more," he added. "It all happened so suddenly. And since then, I haven't heard anything. The TVs have been off and the radios don't work. Like you, I thought that I might have been the last person alive."
"Those creatures. You have to know something about them."
Charles shook his head. "Not really. All I know is that one minute I'm sitting down to lunch with my wife and the next she's trying to kill me." Charles's voice broke off. Jane could see tears forming in his eyes. She put out her hand and rested it on his arm.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up this stuff. It's just…well…"
"I know. It's all so strange. Whoever could've imagined such a thing?"
This time, Jane shook her head. She didn't know.
"My husband attacked me too," she mentioned after a moment. "I hid in the closet while he killed my daughter. She had also changed into one of them."
Jane stopped speaking and looked back at her tea. She couldn't believe that she had just said that. She didn't like admitting what had happened in her house. She felt responsible, that there might have been something she could have done to stop it. But the words had come out of her mouth and he hadn't been able to stop them.
Without hesitation, Charles spoke. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done about it. Whatever happened was beyond our control. You have to believe that."
"I know," Jane said. Except she didn't really. Not at the moment. She usually shifted between two thoughts - thinking that she could have done something, knowing that she couldn't have. They battled within her.
"There was nothing we could have done," Charles repeated. "I had to hide in my bedroom. My wife kept hitting and hitting the door. I couldn't have helped her. I couldn't have even gotten to her without her attacking me."
"But…"
"But nothing. We did what we had to do."
Jane felt a bit better about her decision to hide in the closet, though the guilt didn't disappear. She wasn't sure that it ever would.
She thought about Charles's wife. "What happened to her after you went in your bedroom?" she asked.
"My wife? I don't know. She was banging on the door, then she just stopped and ran away. I haven't seen her since. Her name was Fiona."
Hearing his wife's name made the events more real. These were real people out there who had turned into thesethings. Real families, real loves ones.
"I saw something on the TV," Jane said. "Before my family changed."
"We
were watching something too. About all of the fighting in the cities. It looked pretty bad."
"They didn't know what it was?"
"No, I don't believe that they did."
"It just doesn't seem real," Jane said. She tightly grasped the rim of her cup. "What could have done it? What changed them?"
"I don't know," Charles said again. "I've thought a lot about it. It could have been a virus of some sort. Or maybe rabies."
"Rabies? From animals?"
"Or a form of it. Like I said, I really don't know."
Jane thought about his ideas. They seemed plausible enough. But, in the end, it didn't seem like anything they were going to figure out for sure.
"Why didn'twe change?" she asked next.
"Us?"
"Yes. Why didn't this…whatever it was…affect us?"
Charles shrugged his shoulders once more. "I've thought a lot about that too, but I haven't been able to come up with an answer. I probably never will. It might just be one of those things."
Just one of those things.
"What about God?" Jane asked.
The question surprised her. Although she had been married in a church and had occasionally gone to mass, she hadn't been a very religious person. It seemed as possible an answer as any.
"God?"
"Do you think he did it?"
"I don't see why. Why would He want to change a bunch of people into...into...thesecreatures?"
Jane didn't know. None of it made very much sense. Yet there had to be some type of explanation. Some reason why her family had changed and she hadn't.
Some kind of punishment for their sins?
She didn't think of herself as a bad person, so that might have been one reason why she survived. But that didn't explain why her daughter would have turned. Surely she was innocent. And all of the other children she had seen in the park. And Harold. They couldn't have deserved this. Even her husband had been a good man, or so she had thought.
She took a sip of her camomile tea. It was still a little hot, but she needed something to take her mind off of thinking all of these things. She breathed heavily as she did so. Then she put her cup down.
"I guess we'll never know," she said.
"I guess," Charles agreed.
Glory (Book 1) Page 13
