Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) (69 page)

A shrill and sudden ringing filled the night, followed by an explosion. The main house erupted in flames. Then the second house echoed, with a second detonation sending it to splinters.
 

The third house was already on fire.

Boricio gunned the engine, but nothing happened.
 

“Fuck my asshole with asphalt!” Boricio’s face was beading with sweat. He gunned the engine again. The silence seemed louder the second time.
 

“Alright folks,” he said, turning to the backseat. “Looks like we’re gonna have to run from here to there,” He nodded toward the barn. “There’s at least three of them greasy mother fuckers outside, maybe five. Anyone got bullets left?”

Luca handed Boricio his gun so he could check.

“Okay, we’ve got one bullet left. Awesome.”

The car started to shake violently. The clicking and screeching outside the cabin was deafening, as though the monsters were determined to be heard.
 

“We’ve got slightly less than no time. You trip, stumble, think or breathe, you’ll end up a couple hundred pounds of demon chew. You run, and don’t stop. First one to look behind them is a rotten egg forever. I’m gonna bust this door open and run as fast as I can in the other direction.” Boricio pointed to the church that would never be finished, then pointed at Rebecca. “You wait five-seconds, then open the door and run as fast as you can. Miracle Boy will follow. Linc, you go last, or with Luca. Don’t look behind you, no matter what. I guarantee every one of them fuckers’ll be following me. I’ll lead ‘em in the other direction, then circle back round to the barn.”

“What if you don’t make it?” Luca said.
 

“I will.”

“But you only have one bullet.”

“Boricio don’t need guns,” he said, handing the gun to Linc. He opened the door and roared, then charged from the truck like a raging bull. The monsters followed. Rebecca counted to five, then opened the door and raced for the barn. Like Boricio said, they were clear. Every one of the fuckers was following him.
 

Luca watched Boricio a moment longer. Boricio was still in full sprint when he suddenly dove to the dirt, landing between a pair of fallen brothers. He picked up one weapon and carefully aimed, then emptied it of its few remaining bullets, dropping two of the demons. Boricio grabbed another gun, then rolled away just as a demon landed beside him. Boricio stood and blew off its head, then pivoted his body and pulled the trigger twice, sending a pair of charging monsters into the snow.

Luca had seen enough and looked at Linc, “OK, I’m going.”

Monsters were crawling over the The Sanctuary’s stone walls from all sides, black shadows over white snow, like a sun setting on forever.
 

Luca got out of the truck and ran for his life.

He reached the barn, Linc just behind him.

Someone screamed, but Luca didn’t dare look behind him.

He darted through the smaller of the barn doors, where Rebecca waited.

Her eyes were wide in horror.

Luca turned to see a creature about to pounce on Linc. Somehow, Linc managed to roll and avoid its swipe, but slipped and was unable to get up before the monster descended on him.

Luca grabbed a pitchfork leaning against the inside of the barn, and raced out toward the demon before it could kill Linc.

Just as Luca was about to plunge the pitchfork into the demon, a second one came out of nowhere, and slammed into him, sending him to the ground, and knocking the weapon from his hands.

Luca screamed as the creature rolled on top of him, mouth gnashing and shrieking.

Four shots rang out and the monsters fell to the snow, their hot black blood steaming the cold ice. Boricio appeared, gun in hand, and scooped Luca up and shoved him inside the barn. Linc followed them inside, just as more of the things appeared behind him.

Linc slammed the door shut just in time, and pressed his weight against it, trying to keep them from breaking through. The door rattled and shook, as the creatures pounded.

Little pig, little pig, let me in.

Only now it wasn’t Boricio trying to break down the door, but the demons outside.

Luca looked around. The barn appeared to be sealed off on the ground level, but there was an open door up top, in the hayloft. If the demons were able to get up there from the outside, there would be no way to keep them from getting inside.

Boricio looked at the hayloft, then at Luca.

“You got any miracles in that noggin, you better crack ‘em open and get to scrambling.”
 

Luca said nothing.
 

And just then, two creatures appeared in the hayloft’s opening.
 

They’d gotten in, and more would follow.

* * * *

WILL BISHOP

Will put a bullet in the last of the monsters. Then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He took a final look around the store, then ran to the car outside and climbed in.
 

He pressed the pedal as far as it would go, as though pushing the car harder would change the future’s history.
 

Will had seen a lot of yesterdays go by. Even if the dreams didn’t decide the future, they never lied. When you tried turning the dreams into liars, they snitched to Fate and
that fucker, Fate
made everything worse.
 

Will didn’t know how it could be worse than what he’d seen, but he also knew it could be. He couldn't argue with the dreams, couldn't try to turn them into liars. He could only hope there was something else on the other side of the vision, another angle to the prism he couldn’t quite see. Not a loophole, but an opportunity to do something.

Will kept on driving because the alternative was letting that fucker, Fate, make everything worse. The dreams showed that Will had to be at The Sanctuary. He should have been there already, in fact.

He was late.

What would that mean?

After 10 minutes, Will saw orange on the night’s horizon where The Sanctuary should have been.

It’s burning.

Will drove faster, until he arrived at the gates that were no longer there, and drove into where The Sanctuary used to be. There was nothing standing or breathing. Every building was cinder or ash, trails of smoke snaking into the darkness above. Charred remains of structures and corpses littered the snow in black and red.

It was worse than he’d seen in the dreams. Much worse.

Will got out of the car and stepped onto the death grounds, searching for any signs of life.

His heart ached as he looked around. A little girl, maybe six, lay in a pool of blood just outside where the main house had been. Her stomach had been gouged open, and blood still poured from her mouth. She was clutching a burnt doll, and her eyes were open in a permanent death stare. She was but one of the corpses, and but one of at least three children he could see in the immediate area.

Oh God.

The only building still standing somewhat was the barn, but flames were quickly lapping at what was left of it.
 

Snow continued to fall, faster now, as if it could cover the dirt, grime, and blood.

Will moved toward the burning barn as two figures appeared, silhouetted in fire.

Boricio and Luca, blackened from smoke, and bloody.

Will approached them.

Luca’s eyes were wet, his mouth struggling to make a sentence.
 

Finally, he stared at Will, then swallowed and said, “They’re dead . . . They’re all dead.”

Will looked away, hedging for a second.

There are no loopholes.

“Not everyone,” Will said, reaching into his jacket. A tear rolled down his cheek as he pulled out the pistol, aimed at Luca, and pulled the trigger.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .
 

JUNE 19, 2012

YESTERDAY’S GONE: SEASON THREE

* * * *

GONNA MISS YOUR WEEKLY SERIAL FIX?

WE’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE.

NEXT WEEK WE RETURN WITH OUR NEXT SERIAL THRILLER,

FORNEVERMORE

Noella was born into this world under the shadow of death.

Her mother died minutes after she was born.

Her father was murdered in front of her when she was seven.

And she’s been haunted by voices and visions of death until a year ago, when she was put on an experimental medication to make her life “normal.”

Now Noella lives with her aunt in the sleepy town of Aurora Falls, where she spends her school days hiding from the people who torment her, and her weekends working at a coffee shop in quiet misery, harboring a secret crush on her best friend, Sam.
 

Noella's only happiness comes in her dream world, where she still sees her father and where she is deeply in love with a guy who’s not even real.

On the night before her 17th birthday, she wakes with the feeling that she’s being watched.

Across the street, a light is on in the previously vacant house. And in the window, she sees him: the guy from her dreams. But it can't be him,
can it?

The next night, tragedy will strike again.

Death is not done with Noella. Dreams are about to crash into reality in a paranormal mystery which threatens to unravel her.

And she will know love and happiness ForNevermore.

FORNEVERMORE

THE NEXT SERIAL THRILLER FROM SEAN PLATT & DAVID WRIGHT

FEBRUARY 28, 2012

http://collectiveinkwell.com/fornevermore

* * * *

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THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU CAN DO …

Well, for us, anyway.
 

We thank you for reading our book. You’ve already rocketed to the top of our
Favorite People In The World
Category, a list currently populated by J.J. Abrams, Stephen King, Clive Barker, Craig Ferguson, and whoever first thought to put cookies in ice cream (someone give that person a Nobel Prize!)

But there’s one more thing we’d appreciate if you have a few minutes…

If you enjoyed
Yesterday’s Gone
, or even if you kinda liked it, please
LEAVE A REVIEW TODAY.

WHY REVIEWS MATTER

Listen, we hate begging you like an NPR pledge drive, but we’re new writers, and still making names for ourselves. In today’s publishing world, with so many great writers out there trying to get noticed, reviews can be the difference between making it and writing in obscurity.
 

The truth is, we’d probably write even we only had five readers. I (David) wrote for years while working the graveyard shift at a gas station, dreaming of a day I’d have people getting lost in my worlds and words. We’re writers. We have stories to tell, and are gonna do it no matter what.

But the better our books do, the more we can write for you.

MOST PEOPLE

Most people who read a book will never review it. Maybe they don’t have time. Maybe they don’t like leaving reviews. Or maybe they don’t think it matters to an author. Or maybe they’d never even considered leaving a review. Whatever the case, we don’t take offense. Honestly, we’re just thrilled that they’re reading.
 

We’re thrilled that YOU are reading!

But … if you have a few minutes, you can make a
huge difference
in how our story as indie writers unfolds.
 

 
You really came out for
Yesterday’s Gone: Season One,
and we THANK YOU from the bottoms of our hearts. Between reader email, tweets, and reviews, you rocked!

We’d love it if you can help again.

The biggest challenge for indie authors is finding an audience. Word-of-mouth and reviews at Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Sony, Goodreads, and similar sites can make all the difference in the world between whether a new reader will find and purchase our books.

So please consider leaving a review today.

Thank you,

David Wright
 

& Sean Platt

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