Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (5 page)

Luca kept walking, ignoring Boricio’s lewd comments.

“Listen, man,” Boricio tried to reason, “you save her, and you’re gonna have to save her momma too. And unfortunately, I left my
Men are From Mars and Women are From The Crack of Uranus
book at home, so I don’t quite know how to put up with these bitches.”
 

Luca continued to ignore him.
 

“You’re
really
gonna save three broads? With two of ‘em bitchy?”

Luca spun around and glared at Boricio. “Shut up! You don’t even know them! I’ll save whoever I want.” Then under his breath he said, “You’re not the boss of me.”

Luca regretted getting in Boricio’s face before he was even in it. The glimmer in Boricio’s eyes reminded Luca who he was dealing with.

Boricio’s right arm thrust out like lightning, his fingers instantly curling around Luca’s throat. A smile spread across Boricio’s smile — the smile of his namesake, a wolf.

“Surprised the puppy’s gone pouncing from his leash?” Boricio cackled, as if he’d picked up on Luca’s thought of wolfish smiles. “You managed to get in my head for a bit, kid. And I’m not sure why, but I can’t quite hate you enough to hammer you with the sort of fuck all that makes my itchy stop itching, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you can talk to me like that and keep all your teeth. Now, do I sound like I’m speaking some ching chong ramma lamma ding dong language, or are my words American as a chocolate milkshake and a titty fuck to you?”

Luca tried to speak, but could only choke as Boricio’s fingers dug into his throat.
 

Boricio relaxed his grip, then released it completely. Luca fell to the ground, clutching his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Luca said, not apologizing because he was afraid of Boricio. He actually felt bad for getting in Boricio’s face. Luca wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to upset Boricio. It was as if Boricio were an older brother or something. He didn’t understand why he would want the approval of something that was more monster than human, but it didn’t change the fact that he did.
 

Boricio stared at Luca. “Sorry, man.
Maybe
I overreacted. I keep forgetting that you’re missing the hair on your balls inside that noggin of yours.” Boricio knocked his knuckles on his own head. Luca nodded, trying to keep his emotions flat as he worked up the courage to say what was inside his head.
 

Luca hoped his calculations were right — that Boricio wouldn’t, or couldn’t, hurt him. Because what he was going to say might bring out the beast.

“I’m going to save the girls,” Luca said. “So please don’t try to stop me.”

“Don’t I have any say in this?” Boricio asked. “I gave a decade of my sweet life to keep you breathing! I get at least one vote, right? And I vote for Godzilla.”

Luca thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, you can have a vote. But I’m bringing back Paola and Mary, first. And they get a vote, too.”

“You might wanna think twice on that, kid. If you think there’s any way in hell they’re gonna pick to save your girlfriend over ole’ Quiet Eyes, then you’re not the sharpest Crayola in the box.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Luca said, his voice rising an octave higher than he wanted, and cracking along the way. “If I bring Paola back, she’s going to want her mother.”

“And if you bring back the mother,
she’s
gonna want her boyfriend. All the more reason to listen to ye ole’ Boricio. Hell, I’ve got an even better idea — bring back your girlfriend and Godzilla, then save the rest of that juice for yourself. The old fucker said that tic-tac-toe, it was three in a row that would fuck you up so bad you couldn’t save anyone else. So why not stop at two?” Boricio nodded with a smile as if the idea had just occurred to him. “I’m telling you, it’s a bad time to be an old fucker. There ain’t one goddamn Perkin’s left out there.”

Luca hadn’t thought about it, but Boricio had a point. How old would he be if he saved three people? Would he be old like his great grandpa, Sal, who died two years earlier at 99? Who would take care of Luca if he aged that far? It wasn’t like doctors were around. Or medicine, or any of the things you needed when you got old. He wouldn’t be able to move fast, making him an easy meal the next time they ran into monsters.

“Ah, well, at least I can see you’re thinking about it,” Boricio said. “About damned time you started giving a shit about yourself! I imagine you’ve not yet had the chance to make a boneless beef burrito with a bitch tortilla yet, but I’m guessing you haven’t. And I’ve gotta be honest,” Boricio cackled, “ain’t nothing better in this wide blue world than blowing a load of cock snot and having a pair of lady lips to catch it. And it don’t matter if those lips are camping up north or down south. Believe you me Rip Van Freakshow, you bring Mary and her little lamb back, and you’ll be too droopy dicked to take the skin boat to tuna town. And seriously, fuck that shit with a crowbar, kid. Save one lucky fucker, my money’s still on Godzilla, and consider yourself Santa Claus.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Luca turned from Boricio sighing, his stomach twisted from all the gross words that he didn’t quite understand.
 

He finally said, “I have to do what feels right.”

Boricio looked at Luca, eyebrow arched, shaking his head in resignation. “I don’t think I like where this is going,” he said

“No, you won’t,” Luca said, marching past Boricio, then down into the basement where they’d been held — the basement where Mary and Paola died. He was going to do what he couldn’t before, save them both — whether Boricio liked it or not.

“Damn it, kid!” Boricio said, though he didn’t put up a fight.

Luca stepped inside the darkness, past the corpses littering the ground, until he found Mary and Paola’s bodies, lying just as they’d left them.
 

They looked so pale. So dead.

No way are they coming back.

Luca wondered how much damage he could repair. Could he heal a gunshot to the head? What if a big chunk of the girl’s brain had been damaged?

What if I bring her back and she can’t think right anymore?
 

Maybe I should find someone without brain damage?

Stop stalling — you don’t have much time.

The evil is coming.

Luca wasn’t sure if the voices in his head were made from truth or fear, or if it even mattered.

He dropped to his knees and laid his hands on Paola’s face, feeling the familiar warmth flow like a current, spreading through his body and into Paola’s.
 

Luca glanced at Boricio, who was shaking his head as he watched. Luca closed his eyes, avoiding distraction.
 

Please, wake up, Paola.
 

Please.

Luca wasn’t sure what to expect — whether he’d take a trip inside the girl’s head as he had before, or if she’d simply wake up as though she’d been sleeping.
 

Neither was happening. After a full minute, Paola was still nothing but dead.
 

“Come on!” Luca cried, opening his eyes, and looking at Paola. He shook her shoulders. “Please, wake up, Paola! Please!”

Luca squeezed his eyes shut tighter, both hearing and feeling Boricio pace by his side, probably ready to tell him to stop trying, with more words that would make Luca sick.

No, I have to do this. I have to bring her back.

Luca thought again of how Paola had died, until he could feel the anger coursing through him. Anger at Brother Rei. Anger at his inability to save Paola or Mary. Or Rebecca, Desmond, Linc, or any of the others he could have saved. Anger at whatever the hell took his family from him last October.

The warm current flashed brighter, then flowed faster inside him, like someone lit a fuse. It burned hotter than it had before; the heat was suddenly everywhere inside him, flowing from his body and into Paola. Luca could feel her skin warming at his touch. He opened his eyes as Paola’s eyes opened too.
 

Her eyes met his, and her mouth parted, but her ragged voice couldn't crack into words. Paola could only cough instead.
 

“Shh,” Luca said, tears of joy streaming from his eyes. “You’re alive.” He smiled. “You’re going to be okay.”

* * * *

CHAPTER 5 — Edward Keenan Part 1

March 28

Somewhere in Georgia

FIVE MONTHS AFTER THE EVENT…

Three days had passed since their capture.
 

Ed and Brent were shackled beside one another, handcuffed to giant metal shelving in the grocery store’s stockroom as four Black Mountain Guardsmen took turns, along with the kid, Billy, keeping watch. The power was out, but enough daylight was spilling through the skylights to see by.

Lisa, the woman from the parking lot who had lured them inside the store, was standing guard. Ed wished he’d followed his instincts and simply shot her and the kid when he first saw them. But that would have freaked Brent out, big time, just as it had with Teagan when he took out those men in the gas station.
 

One more reason I should’ve fucking gone alone.
 

Ed glared at Lisa, lounging in a reclining leather office chair — the kind where executives sat, not the hourly workers — while thumbing through a stack of magazines left behind on the crate by either the guards, or maybe some of the vanished employees before the world went adios.
 

Lisa hadn’t sent more than a few words in their direction since their capture, at least anything beyond the occasional order to, “Shut the fuck up!” or the vague promise that she’d tell them the shit they needed to know, when they needed to know it.

Ed had overheard enough from the others last night while pretending to sleep, and he figured he knew enough to know what was going on.

Ed said, “They’re not coming back for you.”
 

“Excuse me?” she said, looking up from her magazine. Her response sent Ed from suspicion to certainty – Lisa would love for Ed to give her an excuse to use the Remington 870 propped against the wall beside her.

“I said they’re not coming back. The rest of your squad.” Ed grinned. “How long since you last heard anything?”

Lisa ignored Ed and turned to Brent. “You wanna tell your friend to shut his face?”

Brent turned to Ed and smiled, “She said to shut your face.”

Brent was in remarkably better spirits than Ed would’ve imagined. Perhaps, he figured, it was because Lisa, and the others, had been far nicer to Brent than they had to Ed. They were treating Ed like he was some sort of treasonous spy, while practically apologizing to Brent for the inconvenience of holding him hostage. Ed figured they were working Brent in preparation for splitting the two of them up — to help turn Brent against Ed, in hopes that he’d surrender intel on Black Island.

“You know that isn’t protocol, right?” Ed said. “I don’t know how different Black Mountain is from the Island, but way I figure, protocols can’t be that different. Little things, sure. But not something like, don’t ever fucking contact your squad. Something happened. So the only question is, how long are we gonna sit here and wait for more of them aliens to come at us?”

“Until I fucking say so, all right?” Lisa yelled, voice cracking right in the middle where it mattered the most.
 

Ed nodded, “Oh, I see,” his eyes widened in mock surprise, “You’re not the one in charge, are you? Your commander is out there, eh? And you’re afraid of leaving and getting reamed.”

He watched her eyes as they pretended not to see him.

He continued, his confidence growing muscles. “And I’m guessing you’re not moving because you’ve either dropped the ball a few times already and are worried that you’ll make the wrong decision. Or . . . you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she said, no hint of emotion.

“You’d be stupid
not
to be scared, Lisa,” Ed said, using her name to worm inside her head. “I’ve seen these things do some scary shit. They nearly killed my daughter.”

She looked up, “You’re with your daughter?”

It worked. Maybe.

“Well, I was. And I’m gonna level with you right now. God’s honest truth, because way I see it, there’s no point in lying. The people on Black Island are holding onto her until I do this job for them.”

“What’s the job?” she asked.

Ed wasn’t sure if he should continue with his honesty, but if they got a hold of Brent before he and Brent were able to get their stories straight, they’d find out, anyway. Besides, they’d already taken the picture of Boricio from his wallet. And if they were in fact already seeking him, then the jig was already up. May as well consider changing teams, even if only long enough to just get away.

“They want me to find someone and bring him back to the island.”

“Who?” Lisa asked.

“A man named Boricio. The guy in the picture you lifted from me.”