Glory (Book 3) (8 page)

Chapter 13

Jane made her way back to the house. Charles quickly opened the door when she arrived and she rushed inside.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. After looking at her face, he could tell that something was wrong.

Jane tried to answer, but couldn't. She was too choked to speak. She couldn't stop thinking about Robert's brother, how he had reached out to grab her.

Charles put his hand on her shoulder. "Come inside," he said.

She was already in, but it made her feel welcome.

They walked to the kitchen.

"Did you manage to get a lot of things?" Charles asked.

"Yes." She had gotten back her voice a bit.

"Did you have any trouble?"

"A little…I think I met Petey."

"Robert's brother?"

"He was one o
f
the
m
. He tried to attack me. But he was hurt. Bleeding a lot. He didn't have the strength. He died in front of me."

Charles' eyes opened in disbelief.

"There were a couple of teenagers in there too," she added. "They were both dead. Petey might have killed them. Maybe they hurt him in the process. I don't know. He was locked in the back room and couldn't get out. He couldn't even walk."

"And he just died?"

"Yeah, he just died."

Charles shook his head. "I can't believe it. Are you sure it was Petey?"

Jane opened her mouth to respond. But, as she did, another voice got their attention.

"Did you sa
y
Pete
y
?" Robert asked. He was standing behind them in the doorway. He rubbed his eyes, sleepily. "Did you see him?"

Jane rushed over to the little boy and knelt down beside him. She wrapped her arms around him. "No, sweetie, I didn't see him. We were just wondering where he was; if he was okay."

"He's not okay," Robert told her. "He turned into one o
f
the
m
. Now he's dead. I know it."

Jane didn't know what to say. She couldn't believe that this little boy could speak so openly about his brother. She knew that if the roles were reversed, the situation would have had her in tears. Actually, it already had.

She looked back to Charles. He was trying to smile at the little boy, to pretend that everything was okay. "Did you have a good sleep?" he asked.

Robert looked at the old man and shook his head. "Not really. I think I had a bad dream. But I don't remember it any more."

"No matter. Bad dreams are best forgotten. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Okay." Robert smiled at the old man and ran beside him. Charles reached down and patted the boy's head.

"I've found a few little treats you might enjoy too," Jane added.

Robert turned to look at her. "You did? Where?"

"While you were sleeping, I went to the store across the way?"

"Really?" Robert eyes opened wide. "Did you find
a
Mighty Mutan
t
?"

"
A
wha
t
?" Jane wasn't sure what the little boy was talking about. But she couldn't help but think of his brother
.
Yes, she had found a mutant.

"It's a big toy," Robert said. "A man with big claws and huge teeth. My mom had always said it was too expensive to get. But maybe now..."

"No, I didn't see one of those."

"Oh…" Robert shoulders hunched. Then they perked back up. "That's okay. I still have Mr. Baker. My brother used to say that I was too old to have a stuffed animal. But I don't care. I love Mr. Baker and he loves me."

The little boy looked so proud of his toy. Though he seemed even more proud of his decision to keep the toy regardless of what others said.

Jane smiled. Charles did as well.

"That's a good idea," the old man said. "I like Mr. Baker. I wouldn't want an
y
Mighty Moogi
e
scaring me all night long."

Robert laughed.
"
Mutan
t
," he corrected him. "No
t
Moogi
e
."

"Well, whatever. I like Mr. Baker better all the same."

"Me too." Robert stuck out his chest as he spoke.

Charles patted Robert on the head once more, then turned to get him a drink. He grabbed a glass and filled it with a bottle he took from Jane's backpack. He handed it to the boy.

Robert took the cup and sat down at the kitchen table to drink it.

Jane watched him as he did. He seemed so innocent, so defenceless. She turned to Charles.

"Did you find a wagon?" she asked.

Charles looked at her in surprise. He had forgotten all about that. "No," he admitted. "I was too busy worrying about you. I couldn't leave the front door until you came back."

Jane understood. She wished that he had tried to find it, but she couldn't really get mad at him for that. It was nice that he was concerned about her.

"That's okay," she said. "We can find one later."

"You want a wagon?" Robert asked once he had swallowed another mouthful of juice.

"I do."

"I have one. It's out in the back yard."

"Really? Is it big? Can you fit in it?"

"Sure, my father used to pull me around in it all the time. Why?"

"Because we want to use it to pull you too," Jane explained. After a pause, she added, "When we leave."

"We're leaving? When?"

Jane didn't want to bombard the young boy with all of this information, but she wasn't going to keep their plans from him now, either. "We were thinking about leaving in a day or two. And we want to bring you with us. That's why we need the wagon. We don't want you to have to walk."

"What about my parents?" Robert asked.

"What do you mean?"

"My parents," Robert repeated. "What if they come back?"

Jane couldn't answer. Tears built in her eyes.

Thankfully, Charles spoke for her. "We'll write them a note," he said. "To tell them that you've come with us."

"But…where are we going?"

Charles looked to Jane, then back to the little boy. "We're going to find others. People like us."

"Like us?"

Charles eyes focused on the little boy's. "People who haven't changed."

Robert didn't reply right away. He took a moment to think things through. When he was finished, he looked between Charles and Jane.

"Okay," he said. "I'll come with you. But we have to write a note. We have to tell my parents that I've gone with you. And you have to write your names, so they can ask people if they've seen you."

"That's a good idea," Charles said. "I can do that."

"One more thing…you have to let me bring Mr. Baker."

Charles tilted his head back and laughed. "Of course, we're going to bring Mr. Baker! I wouldn't leave without him."

Robert smiled. "Okay." He finished off his drink. "Want me to get the wagon?"

*

Jane wasn't going to let Robert outside, but that didn't end up being a problem. From where they were standing, he showed her were the wagon was. She ran out and got it.

It was a red metal wagon with solid wheels. Jane thought that it would be perfect to carry the boy in.

Of course, she knew that the wheels might be a bit loud and could call attention to them. But she didn't expect the little boy to walk the whole way with them. After all, they didn't know where they were going or how long it would take.

She wheeled it onto the hallway floor.

"This is a good wagon," Charles said. "Very strong!"

Robert smiled. "It's the best wagon ever. It can carry anything."

"Well, we only need it to carry you. You don't weigh too much, do you?" Charles asked jokingly.

"No, not at all. I'm perfect for it."

"Great." He turned to Jane. "So what did you find to eat?"

Jane walked over to her backpack and pulled a few things out of it. Once Robert saw the box of macaroni and cheese, he started pointing at it.

"That! That!" he said. "That's what I want!"

"All right," Jane said. "We can make that."

She grabbed Charles' camping stove and a pot and filled it with water that she had gotten from the store. Then she waited for it to boil.

As she did, Charles and Robert went off to read the boy another book.

Jane was left alone.

She could feel all of the day's events come rushing back. She thought of Petey. She thought of Robert's parents. She thought of the little boy's stuffed animal.

Then she began thinking of her own family.

What had happened? What had caused this change?

She was sure that no one knew. It was just one of those things. She'd have to deal with it. Everyone would. Though it wouldn't be easy.

Jane felt another tear build in her eye. It rolled down her cheek and fell into the boiling water.

Chapter 14

They hadn't had much of a break walking since morning. Rick wasn't going to consider their little stop at the hill one. All they had done was watch those creatures pass
.
That hadn't been relaxing at all.

He wanted to say something about it. Tell them that they had to stop, that they needed something to eat.

Of course, he wasn'
t
going t
o
say anything.

He turned to his friend. "We gotta get out of here."

Joe nodded his head. "Should we just make a run for it?"

"I don't think so," Rick said. "They'd either shoot us or chase us…and then shoot us."

"So, what can we do?"

Rick shrugged his shoulders.

He took a few more seconds to think about. There had to be something. If Carl and Big Mike were busy looking the other way, they could leave. They might even be able to walk slowly and drift out of sight. Then again…

Carl raised his hand
.
That same action copped from a war movie
.
"Stop!"

Rick and Joe did as they were told. Any thoughts Rick had had of escape left him for the moment. He looked at their leader, unsure of what was going on
.
Maybe those things had come back. They might be charging them at this very moment
.
He reached down and grabbed his gun
-
the one he had taken from the gir
l
. As nervous as he was, he was ready for a fight. He wasn't going to go out without one.

His fingers wrapped tightly around on the gun's grip, but he didn't pull it free. He wanted to see what Carl had to say first.

Besides, if Carl turned around and saw Rick with a gun in his hand, who knew what was going to happen? Rick didn't want to find out.

Carl turned and looked at him. His hand was still in the air. A closed fist now.

"It's time to eat," he said.

That was all.

Rick was handed a chocolate bar. It wasn't much of a meal, though it was better than nothing. He thought about the steaks he had had back at camp the other night. And the beer. It might've been a bit warm, but it was definitely better than this.

A chocolate bar?

His friend didn't look too bothered with his food. He had opened the pack and had already eaten most of his bar.

Good ol' Joe. Never complained about anything.

Rick caught Joe's eye. Then he looked down at the chocolate bar. He put on a set o
f
sa
d
eyes for him.

Joe smirked as he finished off his own bar and threw the wrapper onto the ground.

Yeah, good ol' Joe.

Rick shook his head, frustrated.

"Something the matter?" Carl asked.

It took Rick a second before he knew that Carl had been talking to him. He looked up. "What?"

Carl looked annoyed. But that was nothing new. He usually looked bothered. "I asked if something was the matter," he repeated.

Rick could feel Joe looking at him, nervously. "No…I…uh…was just thinking about this food." He held up his chocolate bar for Carl to see.

"Is something the matter with it? Is it that you don't like that particular one?"

"No, it isn't that. I was just thinking how nice it would be to be back at camp. Eating a steak and all."

He shouldn't have said it. Sure, it was how he was feeling. But he should have just kept it to himself.

Rick felt his fingers clasp around the chocolate bar and wished that it was his gun. He'd shoot this crazy fuck in the face and have done with it. He might even have time to actually do it. He could drop the bar, pull out the gun.

Though maybe not quickly enough.

Big Mike always had that shotgun in his hands. He was always on the look out.

Big Mike
.
Shit, that guy was almost just as bad as Carl. Probably worse. The guy rarely talked. It was creepy. Unnatural.

They were both fuckin' nuts.

Rick continued to hold on to his chocolate bar. He started to feel a little like an upset child on the school playground, fighting with some of the other bullies. He'd usually been the bully.

Not this time. Now he was the little cowering wimp.

Rick hated that.

Yeah, he should just grab his gun and start shooting. Fuck Carl. Fuck Big Mike. He was sure that Joe would help him. Maybe he'd have a chance. But shit...maybe he wouldn't.

Rick watched their leader. The man's head cocked to one side. Then a slight smile came out on his lips. "Steak?" Carl said. "You'd like that?"

"Well, yeah." Rick's voice wasn't as loud as he had hoped it would be, but he supposed that he was lucky that anything came out at all. That smile on Carl's face was really freaking him out.

"Back at camp?"

"Yeah."

"With your little girl?"

Rick couldn't answer. He felt his face redden. Though not with embarrassment. It was with anger. He didn't want this guy talking about her. He didn't want this guy even thinking about her.

"Or I should sa
y
you
r
little girl." Carl pointed at both Rick and Joe.

Rick looked at his friend, sure that Joe didn't want any part of her.

He turned back to Carl and wanted to scream. Instead, he looked back at his chocolate bar.

"I'm sorry," he heard Carl continue to Joe. "I think I've upset our good friend. I didn't mean to. I was only stating a fact. She is, after all, Rick'
s
an
d
yours. You both found her. Well, Jim too. But there's nothing he can do about that now, is there?"

Rick gritted his teeth together. Speaking about his dead friend. Speaking about his girl. He couldn't stand it!

He glanced back over at Joe.

What the fuck had they gotten themselves into?

*

After the men finished their chocolate bars, they resumed walking. No one knew how long it was going to take to get to town, but Rick hoped that it was going to be soon. The sooner they got their things, the sooner they could get back to camp. Then he and Joe could figure out a way to take the young girl out of there and escape.