Glory (Book 1) (18 page)

Chapter 6

It didn't take long for Adam and Shelly to get out of the city. Not on their new bikes. They were able to make their way pretty quickly down the roads, even with all of the cars and bodies in their way. None of the creatures had come out to attack them, either. That had made their journey all the easier.

They were on a country road now. And, because there weren't as many things in their way, they were able to go a lot faster.

Shelly rode up ahead. She was singing something, bouncing her head up and down. She looked as though she was riding through a park, not through dead bodies and crashed cars.

He had to admit that the young girl had been right. Her bike had been fine. It hadn't caused them any real problems. It hadn't slowed them down. Actually, on clear straight-aways Shelly was able to build up a lot of speed.

Adam looked down at his own bike. He had chosen a sturdy one with knobby tires. It might not have been the best choice for riding along the road, but he hadn't been sure if they were ever going to have to turn off somewhere onto more rugged terrain. It would be good for that.

His bike was equipped with two panniers attached to the rear of the frame. That was another reason why he had chosen it. He figured that they could carry more stuff with them than in the backpacks. He still had his backpack. And Shelly had hers. Though she had put several of her things in her bike's basket.

Shelly was starting to pick up speed again. Adam shouted at her to slow down.

"I told you that this was a good bike," she said when he caught up to her.

"Yes, you did."

"And it looks nice too!"

Adam wasn't too sure why it mattered how it looked. They hadn't seen anyone around who could admire it. He supposed tha
t
sh
e
admired it plenty enough, though.

"Do you want to race?" Shelly asked. She stood up on her pedals and got ready to push down with all of her strength. Adam raised his hand to stop her.

"No," he said. "I don't think we should. I think we have to start thinking about where we're going to spend the night."

Shelly looked around. There were on the middle of a country road. Aside from fields, there was nothing around.

"Where?" she asked.

Adam looked around too.

"We could camp," he said.

"Outside?"

"It's an idea."

"Then we should've stopped at a camping store," Shelly said. "We could've picked up a tent and some sleeping bags. I don't know how much I want to sleep on the ground, out in the open."

Adam bit his lower lip. It was a good idea and one tha
t
h
e
should 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
.
Twic
e
.

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 bee
n
soon
.
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 schoo
l
. 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. Sh
e
ha
d
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 hi
s
goo
d
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 sur
e
wh
y
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..
.
anyon
e
...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.

I
t
wa
s
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. W
e
al
l
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.