Yesterday's Gone: Season Six (44 page)

“You think your daddy’s gonna want to leave his cushy spot in the sky for
this hellhole?
” He waved his hand across the torn-up roads, broken-down cars, and half-destroyed houses surrounding them.

“Then maybe we don’t leave. Maybe we take the ship for ourselves.”

Her eyes were bright and hopeful. Obviously, she’d been sitting on this idea for a while.

“Go on … ”

“Well, as I said, there are a ton of Guardsmen and aliens onboard, so we’re obviously outnumbered.”

“So far, so good,” Boricio joked.

“Well, I’m thinking they all answer to Desmond, right? I mean, there are aliens above him, but Desmond’s basically running the show.”

“Okay.”

“And my father has a vital role. He’s in charge of making sure the hosts are sufficiently softened when an alien takes over their body.”

“Softened?”

“Yeah, the way he explained it is that the stronger a person’s psyche, or the more messed up their life was, the harder it is for the aliens to stay in the body. After a while, the host rejects the alien. A lot of times, the host brain goes crazy and gets violent or suicidal. This doesn’t just endanger the host but also the alien inside it. The Pruhm can be killed by stress from the host body. Dad uses his gifts to weaken resistance, to ensure hosts give the alien as few problems as possible.”

Boricio nodded.
 

“So, in short, the aliens need my father. Maybe more than they need Desmond. So, what if we kill Desmond?”

“Oh, that’s definitely part of my plan,” Boricio said. “Let’s say we do. What makes you think the aliens won’t kill us? I mean, if Desmond’s in charge, they must need him for something, right?”

“Desmond helped corral and control the Ferals after they killed most of the planet. He eliminated a lot of them, though I’m not sure how. Basically, he got them to stop reproducing and destroying all the resources, what they were designed to do. If he’s done that job, then I’d say he’s no longer needed, right?”

“Unless they still need him to keep these Ferals controlled. If he’s dead and these fuckers rise up, then everyone has a problem.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “And I have a solution.”

“What’s that?”

“Luca.”

“Luca?”

“Yes. I think I know why he’s aged so much in a few years. I saw it in his memories when we were in each other’s heads. He’s been spreading himself, The Light, among the humans
and
the Ferals.”
 

“What? When the hell did he do this? He’s with us all the time.”

“He’s been leaving at night, when no one is watching. Teleporting out of your hideout, going out and spreading The Light. He didn’t want to tell any of you because he was afraid you’d disapprove.”

“That little shit.”

“Are you mad at him?”

“Fuck no. I think Boy Wonder might just save this stinking rock!”

Emily smiled.

Boricio patted her on the back. “Remember that shit I said about people who think too much being pussies? Forget it, kid. You’ve got a great head on your shoulders.”

“Thanks. And I didn’t even tell you the best part of the plan.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to kill Desmond.”

“You’re
what?
”

“I’m the only one who can get close enough that they’d never suspect.”

Boricio shook his head. “Um, I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“I don’t like this part of the plan. It’s like you promised me dinner and took me to Arby’s. Everything else, perfect — but this, no bueno.”

“It’s the only thing that will work.”

“No, we’ll find another way.”

“Why? Because I’m a kid? You think I can’t kill someone?”

Boricio stopped in the middle of the street and turned to face her with his sternest expression. “You ever killed someone?”

“No, but — ”

“No buts. It’s a yes-or-no question, no qualifiers.”

“I can kill him.”

“Listen, you’re a nice kid. You’re smart, funny, and you’ve got balls. But you have no clue what it’s like to end someone’s life.”

“He’s not a person. He’s an alien.”

“Still.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer! I can do it.”

“Killin’ ain’t something you can do on a whim. It’s either in you, or it ain’t. You should leave the killin’ to people who are good at it. Who have done it before. Who have a thirst for it.”

“I have a thirst for it.”

Boricio laughed.

“I do! These aliens killed my mother with their plague! They’ve taken over the bodies of kids I was friends with. I’ve spent the last year going to bed every night wishing there was something someone would do to get rid of them. And now there
is
something, something that
we
can do. That
I
can do!”

Boricio sighed, not wanting to consider Emily’s offer but unable to help it. “I’ll think about it. If there’s no other way. But if there is another way, you’ve got to stand down and let the grown-ups take care of it. Ya dig?”

Emily nodded, though he felt like she was likely trying to placate him.
 
He’d have to look out for her doing something stupid, which might ruin his hatching plan.
 

“I’m serious. You’ve gotta let me do my thing. And if I can’t, then it’s your turn. But if you try first, and fail, you’ll screw this up for everyone. And they
will
kill you and your father, both. Comprende?”

Emily nodded again, lower lip jutting out, eyes on the ground. This time, as they continued on their journey, Boricio felt like maybe she understood.

After another ten minutes, they reached a clearing of scorched land stretching for nearly six hundred yards before giving way to the docks.

“That’s where we’re headed.” Boricio stopped just inside the tree line and pointed to the docks. There were no boats, all of them either destroyed or taken to The Island. Yet Boricio routinely saw ships flying over the area, searching for those dumb enough to come. “You ready?”

Emily nodded.

“Now, we don’t want to fight unless it looks like they’re gonna kill us instead of bringing us in.”

“Right.” Emily nodded.

He met her eyes and said, “Thank you for doing this. I promise, one way or another, this shit ends tonight.”

She smiled.

As they started crossing the field, Boricio heard the last sound in the world he wanted to hear: the galloping of horses behind them.

He turned to see ten of the ugliest motherfuckers this side of a
Mad Max
cast audition, approaching fast. In moments, they were circling Boricio and Emily, weapons drawn. Some had spears, some had swords, but their leader, at least judging from the number of his tattoos, was holding a rifle.

“Well, well, look what we got here, boys. A purty little thang, indeed.”

Emily pressed herself against Boricio, unable to mask her fear. Unfortunately for her, fear was candy to assholes.
 

* * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Will Bishop

Will didn’t remember waking up early, leaving the cabin where the others were sleeping, or even walking to the Black Tree. Yet he was here, again, as he’d been nearly every morning since arriving in The Realm — the name he’d given the world where they woke after dying on Earth.

When he first opened his eyes here, Will had hoped he was in Heaven, not that he’d had much faith in such a place any longer. Yet when Will couldn’t find his true love, Sam, he figured this couldn’t be Heaven.

For a while, he thought perhaps this was some kind of purgatory, and he waited for some sign that he was ready to move on.

His first visit to the tree, that he remembered anyway, brought him visions of Callie, hiding from bleakers in a house, bleakers that only existed in her mind. He led her to the cabin, helped her get better and exorcise the demons plaguing her soul.

For a long time, the tree offered nothing more, even though Will found himself there every morning.

No answers as to where they were, or why they were there. It still felt like Purgatory to him.

Soon, other visits to the tree brought him Jade, then Ed. Callie insisted that they go out and search for Charlie. They had, but the woods and path both seemed endless in all directions.

So when the tree brought him visions of Charlie yesterday, Will felt like something was about to happen.

As he kneeled at the tree, Will looked up at its many skeletal branches reaching up to morning’s first violet light.

Dread filled his veins as he placed his hand on the trunk, hoping he wouldn’t see visions of Luca, Paola, or Mary. As much as Will would enjoy their company, their presence would mean they were dead.

A tremor moved under the tree’s thick black bark. Beneath the bark, he saw the briefest glimmer of lights.

Will yanked his hand back, thinking of the last place he’d seen such lights: under the aliens’ skin.

He stared at the tree, watching as light faded and the bark returned to its normal appearance. He hesitated touching it again — part of him afraid of what he’d see. Not just a part,
all
of him.

They’d grown comfortable with one another here. And something told him that was about to change. That this purgatory wasn’t forever.
 

But what did that mean?

Touch the tree, and find out.

Will inched his fingers closer but couldn’t bring himself to touch the bark.

You can’t fight Fate. Touch the tree to discover what’s next.

He closed his eyes and slapped his palm on the tree.

They came in a violent flash, bright and awful.

Will fell away from the tree and stared up at it, wondering how he would deliver the bad news to the cabin’s crew.

* * * *

CHAPTER 8 — Boricio Wolfe

If the bandit fucks had approached Boricio alone, he wouldn’t have hesitated in the slightest to put each in a grave carefully crafted for their particular needs. But having to protect Emily limited his options considerably.
 

The group’s leader looked down from his horse and asked, “What are you all doing out here on this lovely evening?”

Boricio’s gun was in his holster. He could easily squeeze off a shot or four, but there were too many bandits to account for, surrounding them, with half of the ten riders behind him.

“We don’t want no trouble. Just out looking for somewhere to stay the night.”

“She can stay with me,” one of them said, a fat man with long dark hair and an equally long beard.
 

The other men laughed. Some made lewd comments about how she could stay with them, too.

Boricio wanted to tear the tongues from their bodies, gouge out their eyes, and shove them right up their cornholes. But again, he was hamstrung by the kid.
 

“Tell you what,” Tattoo Man said, “you put those weapons on the ground, and we’ll let you go on your way.”

Boricio looked up at the ugly fucker and smiled. “I put down my weapons, you’ll gut me and take her.”

More laughter from the
Mad Max
rejects.

“Or,” said a man from behind, “we could gut you now and take her.”

A revolver clicked behind him.

“Fine, fine,” Boricio said, slowly turning to face the man who’d cocked his gun. Another big fat ugly fuck, with a broken nose and a face that even his mother would hate. Boricio wanted to crack a joke and ask how so many of them were fat enough for neck deodorant when most of The Wastelands struggled to find food. But that would just get him shot quicker.

Then Boricio remembered that he was with a girl who could teleport herself away when shit hit the fan. Maybe there was a way out, after all. Boricio pushed a thought from his mind, hoping Emily was tuned in.
If you can blink out of here, do it now.

He drew his gun and made like he was about to set it on the ground.

Instead, he fired at the left front leg of the horse carrying Broken Nose.

And in a flash, Emily was gone.

Now it’s party time!

The bullet hit, causing the horse to whinny as it reared up on its back legs and sent Broken Nose to the ground.

The other horses reacted as well — some rearing up, others turning to run.
 

Boricio raised his pistol and fired at the leader’s horse, right in the chest.

The horse made a god-awful bray as it threw Tattoo Man off and crashed to the ground.

Boricio leaped on top of the man, shoved the pistol against his head, and fired.

Gunshots zipped past him, kicking up dirt to his left and right.

Only a matter of time before his targets stopped missing.

Boricio spun around amid the chaos of tromping horses, searching for the shooter, found the fucker standing thirty feet away, and fired two shots.