Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) (64 page)

Mary stared down at John’s corpse, and her entire body flooded with adrenaline as her inner
knowing
deepened, the cancerous thought trying to convince her of what she refused to believe — that these were the final few moments of her life.
 

If the knowing was right, so be it. But she had to save Paola.
 

The Brothers shoved her forward at gunpoint, forcing her downstairs and out the front door.

The feeling of impending doom was punctuated by the sight in front of her. Two Brothers dragging Paola toward them.

“Mom,” Paola screamed.
 

Brother Rei let them embrace only so he could rip them apart before leading them to their deaths.

* * * *

LUCA HARDING: PART 3

“Please, let us go,” Desmond pleaded with their captors, Brothers Peter and Boricio.

“Shut up,” Boricio snapped.

“So, you’re gonna turn on The Prophet, too?” Linc asked Brother Peter, his voice dripping with accusation. “This is how you repay the man who took you in and saved your life?”

Brother Peter looked down at Linc, not in anger, but with pity. “I’m not turning on anyone. The Prophet isn’t coming back. And Brother Rei is the only one brave enough to keep leading us from the darkness.”

“What about John?” Linc said, “You think he’s gonna stand by and let you all take over? There’s more people loyal to The Prophet and John, than Rei. You ought to get on the right side while you still can,
brother
.”

“I
am
on the right side,” Brother Peter said, through gritted teeth. “I stood by and watched while The Prophet opened his doors to one and all, without a care in the world of what kind of danger that exposed us to. Letting in sinners, polluting the well, and drawing the Demons closer! It is our faith that keeps this place pure and safe from the Demons. Letting in sinners allows cracks in the fortress that the Demons will use to gain access and destroy The Sanctuary!”

“Please, Brother Peter, I know you’re a good man,” Desmond pleaded. “You know Brother Rei will kill us. Are you going to let him kill Mary and her daughter, too?”

“If they’re righteous, God will spare them,” Brother Peter said.

“Yeah, right,” Linc said sarcastically.

“Enough chitchat,” Boricio snapped, shoving his pistol in Linc’s face. “I am sick and fucking tired of hearing all you motherfuckers goin’ on and on about stupid shit. Forgive my French, Brother Peter, but facts is facts — this is a New World Motherfuckin’ Order where only the strong survive. Just so happens, The Prophet is fat, old, and weak. And Brother Rei and his men here are ready to do what needs to be done. Can I get a witness?”

“Amen!” answered Brother Peter.

“So, I don’t wanna hear none of your gums flapping, unless you’re ready for Boricio to punch your ticket to knock knock knock on Heaven’s Door tonight.”

As Desmond and Linc shut their mouths, defeated, Luca closed his eyes, and reached out into the world, searching again for Will. Each time he’d gone out, he came up empty. Will was nowhere to be found, and Luca started to wonder if the monsters had gotten him.

“Please, Will, you have to get here now! Something really bad is about to happen.”

Luca waited in the darkness for a response, but heard nothing.
 

Then he heard the sound of gulls.

Luca opened his eyes and found himself on the warm sands of Las Orillas beach, standing on the boardwalk, the hot sun on his skin, the smell of salt in the air, and the sound of gulls squawking over the crashing surf. He was eight years old again, and wearing his red Spiderman swimming shorts, which made him smile. He’d forgotten he even owned them.

“Luca?” a voice called.

Will?

Luca looked up to see the lobster taco stand, with Will in his bright green tee shirt, smiling and handing a taco to a teenage girl in a red bikini. She took it and joined with her friends, a group of surfers carrying their boards toward the showers. Luca ran toward Will, smiling, and calling out, “You’re here!”

“Hey, Luca, how can I help you?” Will asked, oblivious to what was going on in the real world.

“It’s happening! Brother Rei has locked us in a dungeon beneath the women’s house. He’s gonna kill us all, I know it.”

“I know,” Will said, the smile vanishing from his face. “I saw it in the dream.”

Luca stared at him, confused.

“What do you mean you knew? Why didn’t you warn anyone?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. We can’t change what’s meant to be, no matter how much we might want to. Even when it’s what you want more than anything else in the world. There are no loopholes to get around fate.”

“Am I going to die?” Luca asked, tears in his eyes. “Who else? Is Rebecca going to die? Paola? Mary or Desmond?”

Will shook his head, “Don’t ask, Luca. Just do what you feel is right when the time comes. You’ll do the right thing. I know it. I’m coming back now, and I’ll do what I can. But I’ve seen what’s next, and I can’t say it’s going to end well. But you have to trust yourself.”

“Are you going to die?” Luca asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Will said, reaching out and tussling Luca’s hair. “I’m coming as soon as I get past these monsters.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m holed up in a shop about a mile away. I ran into some monsters, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise,” Will said, then vanished like a broken transmission, as did the world around Luca.
 

He was again in darkness, death looming on the horizon.

He heard a sound ahead in the darkness, and realized he wasn’t back in the dungeon, but in a hallway. Light bled through cracks around a door at the end of the hall. Luca approached the bleed and found himself in a bedroom he’d never seen before, a room with gray walls and a tattered New York Jets poster on the wall. A boy, about his age, eight, was curled up in his bed, crying.

“What’s wrong?” Luca asked.

The boy yanked his covers aside, surprised to find someone in his room, “Who the hell are you?”

The boy had dark hair and intense eyes. It took Luca a moment to recognize where he’d seen them before, but there was no mistaking the child.

“Is your name Boricio?”

“Who the hell’s asking? How did you get in here?” the kid asked, getting out of his bed and stepping toward Luca, fists balled and ready to strike.

“Get out of my room, kid, or I’ll slit your fucking throat!” Boricio said, grabbing a box cutter from his nightstand and waving it at Luca.

“You won’t do that,” Luca said.

“Oh really, why not?”

“Because now I see the real you. You’re not the Man in the Middle. You’re the Man with Broken Pieces.”

Boricio turned his head sideways, recognition spreading across his face. “You’re that kid,” Boricio said, but in his adult voice, “You’re Luca.”

Luca nodded.

“Get outta my head!” Boricio screamed, throwing his fists back and leaning toward Luca, as if his scream alone would send Luca flying back into the door.

“We need you to help us,” Luca said. “Please. You have to kill Brother Rei before he hurts anyone.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Boricio spoke, still an adult voice coming from the child’s body.

“Because I know you’re good,” Luca said. “I can see it.”

Boricio looked down, his hair falling in his face, and his head and shoulders convulsed as if he were crying.
 

“You couldn’t be more wrong, kid,” Boricio said, laughing as he looked up. He was now adult Boricio, eyes bright with rage.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!”

Fear flooded Luca’s body as Boricio took a swing with the box-cutter, and came inches from Luca’s face. Luca wasn’t sure how he knew, but some part of him did — if he were hurt in this place, he might never wake up.
 

Luca turned, opened the door, and fled into the darkness of another, longer, nightmarish hallway.

Luca heard footsteps behind him as Boricio chased him fast into the blackness.

Ahead, Luca saw a door slightly ajar, light coming from just beyond. He didn’t even stop, instead, threw his body into the door, then crashed through and found himself in his own bedroom. Footsteps grew faster and louder. Luca slammed the door and locked it, just as Boricio’s footsteps stopped sharply outside.

“You think it’s funny to invade people’s heads? Do you, you little fuck?!” Boricio screamed from the other side of the door.

“No, I was just trying to ask you to help us,” Luca whined.

“Boricio don’t help anybody but Boricio. Ah, this is a nice house you’ve got here, kid.” Luca could feel the hallway outside his doorway changing into his house, even if he couldn’t see the change taking place.
 

Boricio was now in his head. Luca could feel him like an itch in the back of his brain. Now it was
he
who wanted Boricio out of
his head
.

“Let’s see what you’ve got lurking in here, eh? Ah, is this your sister’s room? Ooh, lookee lookee a picture. She is a sweet little thing, ain’t she? How do you think she’d like it if old Uncle Boricio paid her a visit?”

“Get out!” Luca screamed, trying to wake up and return to the dungeon. But the world he’d so easily crafted with Rebecca was now refusing to cooperate.

“What’s that Nietzsche quote? ‘Be careful when you look into Boricio, because Boricio also looks into you.’” Boricio laughed.
 

Luca heard Boricio stomping around the house, slamming doors, seemingly searching for something which Luca couldn’t even guess at. Luca became certain that if Boricio wanted, he could use one of the doors to ravel back to Luca’s real house and even back through time, to kill Luca and his family.

He had to get Boricio out of his house, and his head.

“What secrets does little Luca hide in here?” Boricio said. The sound of glass crashed in the living room.
 

The walls of Luca’s room began to shake violently, like they might fall in on him, or fly away at any moment.

“Show me your memories!!” Boricio screamed, his voice echoing in Luca’s head like some sick funhouse trick.

“No!” Luca screamed opening and closing his eyes fast, as if it that might bring him back to the real world.

“Show me!” Boricio screamed, and ran, slamming into the door hard.

Luca was shaking, unable to move, cold sweat and warm piss running from his body. He was certain that if he let Boricio see his memories, the Man With the Broken Pieces would somehow take over.

“Ah, I see, you don’t want to show me. That’s not very hospitable of you, Luca.”
 

Luca heard Boricio’s footsteps, then the sound of a door slamming. The garage door.

What’s he doing in the garage?

Moments later, footsteps again, and Boricio clearing his throat.

“One more chance, Luca. Open the door. Let me in.”

Luca couldn’t move.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in,” Boricio sang as he began shaking a container. Luca listened, trying to figure out what the splashing sound in the hallway was. Then he smelled it — gasoline.

He’s gonna start a fire!

“I’m gonna huff, and I’m gonna puff, and I’m gonna burn your fucking house down!”

Flames erupted in the hallway along with the sound of Boricio’s laughter. “Roast, little piggy! Roast!”

Luca screamed. He was trapped.

Suddenly, he heard a sound outside the window. Scratching.

He turned and saw Dog Vader outside clawing at his window.

“Dog Vader!” Luca exclaimed, rushing to the window. He unlocked it and began to pull the window open, when the door behind him burst open and Boricio walked through, entirely engulfed in flames, but unharmed.
 

“Come here, lil’ pig.”

Luca lifted the window and shoved the screen forward, crumpling it as he dove through the window, and landed not outside, but in another hallway.

Dog Vader was gone, much to Luca’s sadness.

And another door appeared at the end of the hall.

Luca walked to the door, praying this would be the one leading back to reality. The door creaked open before his hand even touched the knob.

He was in a church, light pouring through stained glass windows, casting the church in a rich sea of colors. The pews were empty, and a boy stood at the front before an open coffin. The boy was Boricio, but a bit younger than the last
 
version Luca had seen.

Luca walked to the front of the room, and stared inside the casket. A skeleton of a woman was tucked within the velvet. She looked like she might have been pretty once, but the years had not been kind to her.
 

“Is that your mother?” Luca asked.

Boricio turned, this time not hostile, but staring, emotionless. “Yes, I should have stopped Joe. She might still be alive.”