Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) (38 page)

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Authors: Sean Platt,David Wright

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BOOK: Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone)
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“I don’t mean to piss in the pool,” Will said, “but is it possible Rei was actually
looking out
for Carl? Carl could have been sentenced to death for taking Rebecca into the woods. And since all the courthouses are empty, there isn’t anyone gonna stop them here. If Carl pleaded guilty to a lesser charge, his life was spared, like copping to manslaughter instead of murder. You do a little time, but don’t get the needle. I’m not saying it’s right; I’m saying that’s the way it is. We may not like the pews, but that’s where we’re sitting.”
 

“What sort of fucked up religion kills kids for being kids?” retorted Desmond.

Mary didn’t think Desmond was really hunting for an answer. She said, “I think we should leave The Sanctuary. We’re not safe here, not anymore. I want to go now, before it’s too late. What if someone misinterprets Luca and Paola holding hands or something?”

She rubbed her hand along Desmond’s shoulder, then turned to Will. “Do you
really
want to wait until something happens to one of ours before deciding to leave? We’ve felt unsettled since the day we arrived here, and we’re only sinking deeper. So why are we staying? What are we afraid of? The monsters out there? I’m starting to think that maybe they’re not as bad as the ones in here. At least they click, letting you know when they’re coming.”

Will sighed, then sagged on the back of the stone bench and tugged on his beard. He was tugging for nearly a full minute while everyone gave him the quiet to think, then he swung his right ankle atop his left knee and leaned in toward Mary. “Look, Mary, I hear ya. And if you wanna leave tomorrow, I’ll tip my hat and say toodaloo to this place along with you. But I think it’d be wrong. I think we’d be in more danger than we are now. But hell, that’s like sprinkling salt on a salt lick and saying it’s saltier. We’re in danger no matter what we do. But I think we should stay. Better to stay with the devil you know, or can at least understand, than the devil you don’t, which is the bleakers. Even so, you wanna go, I’ll go right along with you, and make sure the kids know I think it’s the best idea ever.”

Desmond said, “Why don’t you just tell her ‘no.’ That would be better then the,
sure you can do it if you want us all dead
speech.”

“I said it like I meant it,” Will replied, resuming the tugging on his beard. “What we’re seeing behind these walls is easier to understand than whatever’s out there,” he nodded toward the gate. “I may not know what all this means, but something is telling me this isn’t where we’re supposed to go, but it is where we’re supposed to wait. Someone’s been letting me look on things from up high for a while now. I figure, if someone’s kind enough to show me things I need to see before I need to see them, I’m a damn fool to turn my eyes.”

“I don’t care about your dreams,” Mary said, bluntly. There was no time for sparing Will’s feelings when her child’s life might be in danger. “Not anymore. I want out. I want to feel safe! The world’s full of monsters, but that doesn’t mean I have to sleep in their house. I don’t want to raise my child, or Luca, anywhere near these wackos.”


Religious
wackos,” Desmond added.
 

“Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t make it wacko,” Will said. “Religion isn’t evil just on account of it being religion.”

“You’re a man of science, Will.” Desmond shook his head. “You don’t believe in the religious shit these people are peddling, do you? And who the hell is this guy to claim himself ‘The Prophet?’”
 

“I don’t think science and religion are mutually exclusive. I don’t have to believe in a big man with a long beard to see that there’s order in the chaos, that there
could be
an architect of creation. And if someone, or something, whether it be God or something else, is revealing the future to me in my dreams, then maybe the same thing is true for The Prophet. Maybe his world is dictated by things he’s seen, or whoever made certain he saw them.”

Will stood from the bench and started pacing, like he usually did after sitting for more than five minutes straight. “Let’s give God a rest from the conversation. This isn’t about Him. Let’s agree, at least for the length of this conversation, that there’s more to life than the physical existence we’re living in right now. Let’s say there’s an underlying reality where energy, and maybe consciousness, can give birth to particles and matter. If that’s true, it would mean you could basically push yourself into forever.”

Mary stared blankly at Will, not sure where he was going with this.
 

Will turned from Desmond to her and said, “I’ll melt some ice in the theory so it’s easier to drink. Has Paola ever played video games?”

“Sure,” Mary said.

“She have a favorite?”

“Yeah, she loved the Zelda games.”

Will said, “That’s Nintendo, right? With the elf kid in green with the big sword, right?” The memory of the game made Mary smile. She nodded, then Will went on. “Someone, or a group of people, thought up the game. Then it existed, right? I mean, sure, you had coders and artists and everyone else who made it reality, but it didn’t exist until it did, and it was the idea that made it happen. Once that world is built, it’s there forever. Now, I’m not some old man off his rocker who thinks
Toy Story
is a docudrama; I’m merely trying to draw an analogy. What if we can
create
worlds to inhabit? What if we are doing so right now, and we don’t even realize it?”
 

“That’s a weak analogy,” rebuffed Desmond. “Even if it comes close to explaining an afterlife, which is what I think you’re getting at, it doesn’t come anywhere near an explanation for the fairytales and illusion of organized religion.”

“Sure, my beliefs may be fed by a longing to fly past my death,” Will conceded, “but that right there is the place where science and I split for a while. Science likes to give a finger to faith because it’s only looking for truth. But that’s forgetting the fact that faith is an egg until a new truth hatches. Name one scientific discovery that didn’t start with an unsubstantiated belief? Wasn’t too long ago when an atom couldn't be split.”

Mary said, “And Pluto used to be a planet.”

“That it did.” Will laughed, then continued. “Maybe space and distance are only illusions. It’s just the way things look to us since we can’t see, or fathom, the larger construct that is reality. It’s like how the colorblind can never know the true of a red. People claiming to know God might know there’s
something
out there, because they feel it, like breath in the air. And maybe religion is the only name they’ve got for it, so they sculpt it in their own image, with their own prejudices and laws and such, but it’s something to believe in. It may be a light year from the truth, but it’s the closest they know. If science can’t accept that religion might be more than fairytales and magic tricks, well, that’s its own shortcoming. Or was. I’m keeping an open mind, though. I’ve seen too much, been through too much, not to. I don’t know what’s guiding me, but I know what happens when I start to doubt it or fail to heed the warnings.”

Desmond said, “Listen, I respect your mind, Will. You and I agree on a lot of things, and I appreciate all you’ve done for us. But we need to start thinking more logically and less superstitiously. Mary is right; we need to get the hell out of here ASAP.”

“That’s not what I’m doing at all,” started Will. But Desmond didn’t let him finish.

“You talk about science, and offer respect for scientific research. But right now you sound like a man of faith, not science; a man of faith who doesn’t subject his irrational beliefs to the same scrutiny he would a controlled experiment or peer review. That’s all fine, as long as you’re not trying to convince me there’s science behind your dreams.”

“There’s science behind everything,” parleyed Will.
 

“Forget science then,” Desmond’s voice was showing his impatience. “Why are you looking for something outside your physical existence in the first place? Do you know something about physical limits that we don’t? Why do you need more than physical reality? Fire, water, glass; wind, rain and snow; human touch, laughter, sex. The physical world is all around us; don’t you think that’s magic enough already? Aren’t the millions of years of evolution, countless species in an impossible number of variations, and the inarguable intelligence of man enough for you?”

“Sure they are,” Will smiled, “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a whole helluva lot more.”
 

Now Mary was standing, her stomach turning again, a cold sweat on her brow. “I’m sure you two could argue forever, but we need to make up our minds, do we stay here or do we...”

That was when John appeared from nowhere. “You’re not thinking of leaving now, are you?” he said, quickly approaching the bench until he was standing a few feet from the group. “The Prophet has let you into his home. I can’t imagine he would take kindly to your sudden departure.” John smiled, and after a few seconds, he nodded, then walked off in the other direction.

**
 

Mary wasn’t sure if it had been John’s sudden appearance or something else that had sent her scurrying up the stairs and into the bathroom,
 
but that’s where she’d been sitting since, sick as a dog.
 

* * * *

EDWARD KEENAN: PART 1

Ed glanced over at Brent Foster sitting shotgun next to him as they sped toward Georgia in a world without speed limits, hunting a man named Boricio.

Did I choose the right ally in Brent? Does he have what it takes to see this through till the end?
 

Brent’s lack of combat training didn’t exactly make him the kind of guy you’d want beside you in the field. But he was passionate, almost impossibly so. And there was something about him that made Ed trust him immediately, even if Brent
were
contemplating some sort of attack against him or someone else high ranking at Black Island.
 

Who could blame him? He was willing to do whatever he needed to protect his family, even if they’d been reduced to zombies. And protecting them was tantamount to suicide. Ed could understand, if not respect, that sort of foolish dedication.

As one desolate town piled on top of another, Brent grew uncharacteristically quiet. He was probably lost in thoughts, perhaps dealing with feelings of guilt over giving up on the creatures that were parallels of his wife and son. Though they were alternate versions of his family,
 
he clearly felt for them. But they weren’t his true family, and they couldn't be saved. The scientists at Black Island Research Facility were conducting their secret experiments, something the Ed Keenan of this world — his parallel —
 
told him was for the greater good. When the government said something was for “the greater good,” it usually meant someone was going to die. That was the way of the world, a reality Ed was no stranger to. He’d participated in many dubious acts, ostensibly for the “greater good.” He’d believed in his missions and government, until they turned on him.

Had that also been for the greater good?

Ed tried not to dwell on a past that would only serve to pull him from his present mission, a mission for the “greater good,” of course.

Finally, Brent broke a few hours of silence. “So, Captain, what is it about this Boricio guy that has you so charged up?”
 

“I don’t know, and call me Ed. None of this Captain shit when we’re not on base.”

“Okay, Ed. So, there’s got to be something special about him, right? Do they think he knows what happened? Or that he’s behind it? Or even that he has some kind of cure for the infected?”

“They didn’t tell me much. They gave me a picture; how the hell they got that, I don’t know, unless he’s a parallel of someone here. But I know they want to get to him before Black Mountain finds him.”

“Black
Mountain
?” Brent asked. “Like Black Island?”

“Yes and no. They started out the same. But it seems the group in Georgia went rogue. We’re not even sure they’re still here or that there are any survivors. But if they’re alive, there’s an excellent chance they’re looking for Boricio, too.”

“And they couldn't tell you why?” Brent said, as if he didn’t believe Ed.

“Is it so hard to believe they only tell me what I need to know?”

“You seem like the type who would insist on needing to know
everything
.”

Ed smiled, “Fair enough. And you’re right. But in this case, the details are sensitive. Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. Suffice it to say, they want this guy, so we need to find him first and convince him to come back with us. What happens after that, I don’t know.”

Brent was quiet a while longer, then asked, “Have you seen your daughter?”

A grenade of emotion detonated within Ed’s every ounce of being.

“No. They showed me pictures, but I don’t know where they have her or the other girl, Teagan.”

“The one with the baby?”

“If the baby lived, yes.”

“I haven’t seen any babies on the island,” Brent said. “And I don’t remember Jane telling me about having to watch any.”

“Like I said, I don’t know. They’re keeping mum.”

“Why tell you about your daughter’s status, but not the other girl?”

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