Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) (42 page)

Some time around midnight, Tanya said she was tired and urged Jenna to follow her. Boricio said he was tuckered, too, but would like to spend a few more minutes getting to know Jesse. The two girls disappeared upstairs, Jenna winking at Boricio on the way out. Once the guys were alone, Boricio took advantage of the twitch he’d noticed on Jesse all afternoon. Dude was a smoker, but the ladies probably didn’t like it in the house, and his pussy lips were just fat enough to make him listen to every fucking word they said.
 

“Hey man,” Boricio said, “you wouldn’t happen to have any smokes in this place, would ya? I ran out a while back, and have been jonezin’ all day.”
 

Jesse smiled. “Sure thing, happy you asked.” He led Boricio outside, then handed him a pack of Marlboro Reds as soon as they were on the other side of the door. “Keep the pack,” he said. “I have more than you’d believe.” He laughed, lighting his cigarette, then holding the flame for Boricio.
 

The air was frigid, but not freezing. Boricio liked it. He took a long drag, then blew a large cloud into the wintry air. They talked about a bunch of bullshit that made Boricio wanna punch stuff for nearly 15 minutes. Finally, after two cigarettes each, things started getting good. “So, you fuck either one of them yet?” Boricio said.

Jesse’s mouth was open a while, maybe half a minute before he said, “No. That’s not the sort of relationship we have.”

“That’s not the sort of relationship we have
,” Boricio said in a perfect mockery of Tom immolating Jesse. Then he went ahead and dropped Tom altogether so Boricio could come out to play. “The fuck sort of man lives with two fine ass pieces of pink pussy like that and don’t do nothing about it? I was staring at Jenna all through dinner, wondering how her little eraser nipples were gonna taste as I pulled ‘em in my teeth. You’ve had a half year to find out, and probably haven’t done shit but fill every sock in your drawer. It’s a crying fucking shame,” Boricio took another long drag, then smiled at Jesse’s whatthefuck expression, and waited. Jesse kept right on saying nothing, so Boricio said, “You know I’m fucking with you, right?”
 

Jesse broke into a nervous laughter. But Boricio never joined him so when the laughter died, Jesse was left trembling. Boricio stood between Jesse, and the doorway, blocking his way back into the house.
 

“So, which one of them pussies you think would taste better?” Boricio asked, friendly as could be. “My money’s on Jenna, but you never know. Them quiet bitches are hellcats in bed half the time.” He laughed, then added, “Ask me how I know.”
 

Boricio slapped Jesse on the shoulder. “You’ve gotta stop being a bitch, Jesse. It’s as simple as that. You keep being a bitch and the only thing you’ll ever get to glazing is your first and oldest girlfriend, Rosy Palms. Haven’t you noticed – it’s the end of the world. Bitches have dropped their standards, man. You don’t need a lobster dinner when you can fill the pantry with Captain Crunch. Now,” Boricio whispered in Jesse’s ear, “I’m going upstairs to fuck Jenna. I’ll let you know how it is. I suggest you go for Tanya. She’s mousy, but I guaran-fucking-tee she knows how to squeak.”

Boricio reared his head back and squeaked loudly, “Squeeeeaak, Squeeeeaak!”
 

Jesse said nothing, staring at Boricio as if he’d just shit in the punch bowl.

“You don’t want her?” Boricio asked, “I understand. No reason I can’t have both. I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

Boricio turned toward the door, thinking he might actually let Jesse live if the dude had fun and played ball. Boricio’s hand was on the doorknob when Jesse’s sack got fuller, finally giving Boricio an excuse to make shit a whole lot more fun.
 

Jesse said, “I can’t let you do that.”
 

Boricio laughed. “
Let me?
I’m sorry; I wasn’t aware I’d asked. Boricio don’t wait for anyone to
let him
do shit.”

Boricio punched Jesse in his throat, murdering speech, then swept his feet out from under him. Jesse fell hard to the snowy ground, the back of his head whiplashing into the stone walkway
 
but not hard enough to knock him out. That meant more time for Boricio with his new plaything. Boricio crushed the heel of his boot into Jesse’s gut, hard. That left Jesse twitching like an epileptic. Boricio strolled to the bricked-in grill, full saunter, and pulled a large fork from a magnetic strip on the side. He sidled back to Jesse, then made a fountain of blood with a set of holes in his neck.
 

Jesse tried to scream, but Boricio shoved the man’s own fingers in his mouth until he was gagging, vomit trickling through the gaps. Next, he stabbed the fork into the pansy’s other wrist and arm in four locations, effectively crippling the fucker so he couldn’t hit Boricio with his free arm.

Jesse’s eyes went wide and white, as he desperately struggled to break free. Boricio brought the fork down again and again, stabbing the man in each eye. The pain was so intense, Jesse bit down hard on his fingers, and kicked with his knees and legs, trying to get Boricio off of him. Boricio dropped the fork and pinched the man’s nose, cutting off his last source of air, until he stopped moving.

Boricio was sporting a helluva throbber, and figured he’d take care of that before dealing with Jesse’s body, so he charged back inside and took the stairs, two at a time. Tanya’s room was on the right so he went there first. Jenna was a sure thing, but Boricio wasn’t sure about Tanya. He’d love nothing more than to bring the full set back to the compound, but if she was a fighter, he’d settle for one.
 

Boricio opened the door to a thundering snore. Tanya was buried beneath the covers, rising and falling in time with her snoring. He closed the door then crossed the hall, passing the stairs on his way to Jenna’s room.
 

There was a slight squeak as the door swung open, but it was dead silent inside. No snoring, no drawn breathing. Only the stillness of nothing. Boricio crept closer to the bed as his eyes adjusted to the dark.
 

Just as Jenna’s shape started to form, she said, “I’ve been waiting for you. What took you so long?” Her voice was breathy and Boricio’s hairy hot dog was begging to get buried in a bun. He slipped into bed and shoved his mouth on hers.
 

Jenna kissed Boricio hard and spun herself on top of his body. She was hot and wet, Boricio could feel it and smell it. He closed his eyes and waited. She could do whatever she wanted. Girls who had waited a long time were always extra juicy, and they knew exactly what they wanted to do.

Boricio leaned back and closed his eyes, ready for Jenna’s opening act. That’s when he felt the blade at his throat.
 

“Who the fuck are you?” Jenna said.

Well, FUCK me.

Boricio edged back against the headboard as Jenna nudged the knife deeper in his flesh. He felt a trickle of blood drizzle down to his collarbone, and registered a rare moment of fear.

“Who the fuck are you?” she repeated.
 

Boricio tried to speak but he had to swallow, which made his Adam’s Apple nick the knife. Jenna pulled it a centimeter back and said, “Last chance. Who. The fuck. Are you?”

Boricio had no idea what Jenna had heard, and the throb in his cock was shooting through his body and making it impossible to think clear. He said, “Name’s Boricio.”

“What do you want?”

“Nothing you don’t wanna give me, sweetie.” He smiled. Jenna made him pay with a gash across his neck. Boricio didn’t cry out, though he wanted to, figuring the cut wasn’t that deep since he wasn’t gushing from the new seam.

“I know what happened,” Boricio said. “In October. I know why things went crazy. And I’ll tell you everything. But it’s hard to think with that shit at my throat. So do you mind?”
 

Jenna moved the blade back an inch, keeping it trained on Boricio’s jugular. “Spill it,” she said.
 

An inch was enough for Boricio. His hand flew to her throat. Jenna dropped the knife to grab for breath, fingers at her throat as Boricio’s brought the fallen blade to the side of her face.
 

“Well, how about that,” he said mockingly.
 

Jenna was dangerous, no doubt, so Boricio sank the knife into her belly while slapping his other hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. He watched her bleed, pissed that he’d barely enjoyed the kill, and still had a rager to satisfy.
 

He’d take care of that in a minute, hopefully in between Tanya’s titties. Soon as Jenna’s heart stopped, Boricio went down the hallway to Tanya’s room, cock throbbing with every step. He opened the door to an empty room, no snores coming from the vacant bed.

Fuck!Are these bitches psychic or something?

Boricio stormed from the room and searched the house in a hard-on rage, but didn’t find dick.
 

Where the FUCK did she go?

His cock couldn’t wait.

He went back into Jenna’s room, spread her legs, and slipped his cock inside her. She was still warm, and wet. He pumped, staring into her dead eyes, still filled with her final gaze of fear.

Seconds later, he exploded inside her, spilling every ounce of his seed.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” he sighed, collapsing on top of Jenna’s body, embracing her, not at all caring about the blood. He’d wash that off later.

“Why’d you have to go and do that, baby?” he whispered to her in the dark, caressing her face. “Hot as hell and deadly, what a combination. We coulda’ been something. We coulda been unstoppable.”

He decided to sleep with his arm around Jenna’s corpse, hoping that Tanya would be crazy enough to come back and try to fuck with him. Just thinking about it made him hard again. He fell asleep happy, a thick on his dick and a smile on his face.

* * * *

CHARLIE WILKENS: PART 2

Charlie woke to the sound of fire crackling, warmth bleeding across his blanketed body. He was wearing sweats and a shirt which he didn’t recognize. The scratches on his arms had been cleaned, and scarred over. A roaring fireplace greeted his eyes as he rubbed the sleep from them.
 
He was in a dark living room, in what appeared to be a cabin. Across from him lay Adam, his eyes barely open, until he noticed that Charlie was awake.

Adam sat up, a huge smile on his face, like a kid waking up to Christmas presents, “You’re awake!”

Charlie eased himself up, his head pounding, and muscles achey, but otherwise feeling okay. “Yeah . . . Where are we? What happened?”

“A cabin I found.”

“How did we get here?”

“I found you in a car, asleep. Your skin was blue and you wouldn’t wake up. I figured you for dead at first. But I
 
a weak pulse. So I carried you until I found a car with some life still in it, then drove until I found this place.”

“You carried me?” Charlie said, stunned, but also feeling guilty for practically wishing Adam dead.

“Yeah. Not far though. There was another car close from where you were. How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Charlie said, “A bit out of it, but alive.”

“I got this, too,” Adam said, holding up a shotgun. “And a whole bag of ‘em, in case anyone shows up.”

“Did ya’ get ammo, too?”

“Of course, duh,” Adam said with a grin. Then, just like that, the glow in his face was gone. “I’m...I’m sorry about Callie.”

Adam’s eyes were sad and mopey, all apologies.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie said, calling on his best reassuring voice. “We’ll find her. And it wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done without a gun, except maybe get taken, too. Or killed.”

“I wish it were me instead of her,” Adam said. “I mean, she’s a girl. God only knows what they’ll do to her.”

“She’s a tough girl,” Charlie said. “And if they were government people like you said, then they’re probably not gonna kill or rape her or anything.”

“So, why do you think they took her?” Adam asked.

“I have no idea,” Charlie said. “But when Boricio finds out, he’s gonna wage a goddamned holy war against them, don’t ya’ think?”

“Oh yeah,” Adam said. And then after a long pause, he asked, “Do you think Vic made it out of the storm?”

Charlie flashed back to the asshole’s shocked face, eyes the size of softballs, the instant before he slit his throat.
 

Could Adam have seen me do it? Is he testing me, checking to see if I’ll tell the truth?

Adam was likely too far away to have seen him do it, but maybe he had. The thought invited a chill back into his body despite the roaring fire. That left him with only one possible reply...

“I killed him,” Charlie said, flatly, watching Adam’s face to gauge his reaction.

Adam’s eyes expanded like a balloon for a moment. “Good. He was a dick.”

Charlie laughed, laughed so hard it hurt his ribs, more relieved than amused.

Adam caught the laughter bug and started howling too.

When the embers of laughter died, Adam said, “Though, it would’ve been good to have his help getting Callie back.”