Glory (Book 1) by Michael McManamon Page A

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."
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