Yesterday's Gone: Season Six (25 page)

Ben pointed to Wilson. “They came from him.”
 

No hesitation: Tommy winked at Ben, turned to Wilson and shot him twice in the face, then looked down at Becca and Ben.

The kids screamed.

Tommy shoved Brent to the ground, beside Teagan and the kids.
 

Tommy dropped to a squat in front of them, met Ben’s eyes.

“Good job, kid, you just saved your daddy.”

Ben said nothing, sniffling back tears.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair.

Brent lurched forward, but Tommy’s gun was in his face, as if he expected, maybe even was trying, to provoke Brent’s response.

Gun in Brent’s face, Tommy turned his gaze to Becca, licked his lips, and said, “How would you two kids like to come with us tonight?”

* * * *

CHAPTER 8 — Paul Roberts

“What the hell were you thinking?” Desmond yelled at Paul.

Desmond was usually smooth in his reprimands, not enraged. But as Paul stood there in the command center, Desmond wasn’t holding back.

“I asked you a question.”

“You wanted information, and she wasn’t giving it. I improvised.”

“That’s what you call that —
improvising?
”

“You put me in a room with the woman who slit my daughter’s throat and tell me it’s up to me to find out where she is, where the rebels are, and you’re surprised when I try to scare her?”

Desmond tilted his head to the side in his condescending way. “And how
scared
do you think she is?”

“I don’t know.” Paul shook his head. “Why don’t you let me back in and find out?”

Desmond laughed. “Wow, Paul, you’re really unraveling, aren’t you?”

A small part of Paul wondered if Desmond was working him. Perhaps the tracking chip hadn’t actually stopped working. Maybe Desmond was telling Paul so he would go hard on Mary — even if he was acting upset that he’d been too rough. Desmond had to have known that Paul would do something like that.
 

A darker thought occurred to Paul: What if there never was a tracking chip? What if Emily had never been anything other than bait? Another worm to Desmond, and who cared what happened to a lowly worm?

Still, Paul had to find some way to stay on Desmond’s good side and prove his value — just in case there was any chance of getting Emily back.

“No, I mean it,” Paul said. “Let me back in. I laid the groundwork. I put the fear in her, even if she doesn’t know it yet. When I go back in, she’ll talk. It’s like good cop, bad cop. You know the routine?”

“Yes,” Desmond nodded, “but in my scenario,
you
were the good cop.”

“And who was the bad?”

Desmond didn’t have to answer. Paul saw it in his eyes. “Oh, you?”

“Yes, and now we have a situation with two bad cops, Mr. Roberts. Tell me, how do you think she’ll respond to
two
bad cops? Think she’ll open up, lower her guard?”

Paul took a moment to respond. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Just give me another chance.”

“Well, fortunately for us, and your daughter, I happen to have a backup plan.”

“And what if she doesn’t talk?” Paul asked. “How will we find my daughter, or the rebels, if she stays the course?”

Desmond stared into Paul’s eyes with a ferocity that Paul had never seen in the man. “Oh, she’ll talk. One way or another, we will get our answers, Mr. Roberts.”

* * * *

CHAPTER 9 — Mary Olson

Mary wasn’t sure when or how she passed out. Or if it was from exhaustion, blood loss, or something else. She woke, still lying down clamped to the table, hearing a buzzing sound, like a cell phone left on a nightstand.
 

A tickling sensation ran through her entire body.

Her eyes flicked open to darkness save for a blue sphere, roughly the size of a basketball, hovering just inches over her body.

What the hell is this?!

She squirmed.

Mary moved, and the ball of light loosened, like pieces of a tire coming off in every direction. They glowed blue, and after a momentary separation, pulled themselves back into the ball.

“I’d suggest you keep still,” a voice said behind her. “We are repairing your wounds.”

The voice was instantly recognizable, and boiled her blood.

Desmond!

She struggled to turn her head around, but it was impossible, strapped down as she was, to get a look directly behind her.

“Let me go, you fucker!”
 

“Now, now,” Desmond said, his voice calm like a lover’s, “save the sexy talk for later. You need to relax, Mary.”

Suddenly, his hands cupped either side of her head, as if he were going to give her a scalp massage, though Mary was certain he held nothing loving in his intentions.

“Don’t touch me!” she said, surprised as her voice cracked at the end.

She squirmed again and felt the ball of light buzz louder, disassemble, then reassert its form.

His hands went from a gentle caress to a vice-like grip, so tight she was certain he was about to squeeze her skull just to see it pop like a melon. Or at least let her know he
could
.

Desmond leaned in close, though she still couldn’t see him, and whispered, “I said,
keep still.
”

Panic seized her entire body.

She’d been waiting for this moment so long, a chance to be in a room with him, to make him pay for Paola’s death. She’d dreamed of the many ways she could end him, from a simple bullet in his skull to the more …
creative
methods. Tie him up and peel his skin bit by bit. Set him afire. Chop off his limbs one by one. She’d imagined so many details, like an athlete practicing for her biggest game.

But she’d never imagined this: him having her on a table, at his will, naked no less, unable to do anything. She’d never felt more helpless, save for the moment she cradled her dead daughter, watching the life leave her body.

Mary wanted to explode and take them both out in a fiery, violent death. Take out the whole fucking spaceship, too.

“Let me — ”

He squeezed her head tighter. Mary cried out.

“Silent,” he said smoothly, “and remain still until you’re fixed.”

She did as instructed. Desmond relaxed his grip enough that he was no longer hurting her, but it was still tight enough to keep her in line.

After what felt like forever, the ball of light zipped away, out of the room through a sliding door to her right.

“There, there, all better,” Desmond said, letting go of her head but still standing out of sight.

“I’m going to kill you.” Though Mary was about as far from being able to execute her threat as one could possibly be, she meant it with her every molecule. And she believed it. She’d find a way to break free and deliver on her promise — even if it was the last thing she’d do.

Desmond laughed.

“Kill me? But why? I thought you loved me.”

“You’re
not
Desmond.”

More laughter.

She heard his footsteps recede behind her, echoing off the walls.

“Oh, but Desmond is still in here with us.”

“No, he’s dead. Just like Paola.”

“Yeah, that was a bit unfortunate, Mary. And for that, I’m truly sorry. If you remember, though, I gave you all a choice. I gave you a chance to live with us, to be part of something new, something big, something bold! But you and your little group of
roaches
thought you knew better.”

“You are a fucking cancer! We will defeat you!”

“Mary, why are you so determined to avoid your destiny? This is the way forward. We don’t have to be enemies. We can coexist.”

“Liar! You do no coexist. You are nothing but parasites, killing everything you touch.”

“No,
that
is the lie, dear Mary. That is the lie you people tell yourselves as you hold onto a crumbling past. As you run from a future you don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand? We watched you wipe out most of a planet’s population. Not once, but twice!”

“You are correct when it came to what happened on the other world, but we’ve since learned of our errors. We’ve learned of our true destiny.”

“You’ve killed almost everyone on
this
planet, too!”

“No, we reduced the number to an ideal sum for all concerned. Going forward, our kinds will be intermingled in a way that will benefit both. An end to sickness, an end to war, an end to death, Mary. Don’t you want to live in a world where we never die? Where Paola would never have died?”

“Don’t you speak her name.”

“Let me ask you something, Mary. You see us as parasites, bent on destroying your world, killing your people. But tell me, why aren’t you this afraid of Luca?”

Mary said nothing.

“He is the same species as us.”

“No, he’s not. Where you kill, he sacrifices, gives of himself to save others.”

“No, your precious so-called
Light
sacrifices
Luca’s
body, but it isn’t doing so out of the goodness of its heart. It is doing what we are doing. It is attempting to survive by any means necessary.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

“No, Mary. It’s you who are wrong. You accuse us of being parasites, yet we are no different than the alien in Luca. You see that Luca still has free will, yes? He is still acting of his own accord, right? Well, so are the others, Mary. We have hundreds of people coexisting with aliens just fine. And they get along fine with our free humans. Yes, Mary, we even let some people live free on The Island. Does that sound so horrible to you? Like we’re the bad guys?”

“You lie.” Mary continued the conversation not to argue but to buy time, to try and figure out Desmond’s endgame, to see what he wanted from her. If she could find his lever, she could use it to get free. And if she could get free, she could finally take him out.

“Desmond is still here inside this body, Mary. It’s true, ask him yourself.”

Mary heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
 

Her heart raced. She wasn’t sure how she’d respond when she finally saw Desmond face to face. Finally looked in the eyes of the man who was responsible for Paola’s death.

His footsteps drew nearer.

It took every bit of her self-control to stay calm, to not pull at the binds holding her down.

He came around, into view.

She swallowed a painful knot in her throat.

“Hi, Mary,” he said, his voice different. He’d gone from smooth and in control to apprehensive, unsure. “It’s true. I’m still in here. The aliens saved me, gave me another chance.”

She shook her head. “No. You’re dead.”

Desmond’s eyes began to well up with tears. His shaky voice went on, “No, Mary, I’m here. And I’m so sorry for what he did to your daughter. He didn’t mean for her to be shot. And I couldn’t stop it.”

Could he be telling the truth? Could a part of Desmond still be alive in there? This had to be a ruse. A performance to work on her sympathies. He was playing on her love for Desmond to find
her
lever. Mary refused to believe.

“Shut up!” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “You’re dead.”

“No,” Desmond said. “
We’re
not dead. We can live again. We can live forever.”

We’re?

She heard footsteps behind her.

Heard someone breathing.

“Yes,” Desmond said. “Death isn’t the end for us. We can all live together, forever.”

The footsteps came closer.

Mary struggled to turn, to see who it was, but couldn’t.

Then the other person spoke.

“We can live forever, Mom.”

TO BE CONTINUED …

YESTERDAY’S GONE

::EPISODE 34::

(FOURTH EPISODE OF SEASON SIX)

“The Reaping”

* * * *

CHAPTER 1 — Boricio Wolfe

Boricio was pretty sure his arms would fall the fuck off if he carried Luca much farther.
 

Keenan looked over and asked, “You ready to switch yet?”

“I got it,” Boricio said, pretending his arms and back weren’t burning. “Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing.”

“You sure? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I said I got it,” Boricio snapped.

Keenan grinned. “Okay, you got it.”

Boricio might not be Mr. Action Hero with hulking biceps like Ed Keenan, but he wasn’t about to hand Luca over fifteen minutes into their trip and look like a pussy. A two-mile walk should take around forty minutes at their pace, carrying Luca. But fuck if fifteen didn’t feel like fifty when you were carrying dead weight.

Lisa, walking with Barrow, Emily, and Jevonne behind them, laughed.