Yesterday's Gone: Season Six

by Sean Platt

  “Hello, Leader,” It greeted the creature.

  I’m told you have the boy.

  “Yes, he is with the other prisoners. His mouth and nose are covered so The Light cannot escape. We finally have him. We’re close to winning this war against The Light.”

  And how do you plan to do this?

  “We will break him or coerce him by harming, or killing, the others. Then we’ll get him to lure the Ferals into a trap. Herd them all into The Wastelands and blast that spot to hell. After that, nothing will stand in our way.”

  Do you think he can lure them all? Or is this only theory?

  “The collective will answer to me, and the Ferals will answer to him. Between us, we can take care of them all.”

  Good. And once you’re done, I want them all in The Cell. We can’t risk The Light ever escaping.

  “Of course.”

  The Cell was a pit in the bottom of the ship where no energy could escape. While it would serve as a perfect prison for their enemies, The Cell would also serve Its ultimate goal — to somehow turn The Light and absorb it into Itself. Then It would dispose of The Leader and his ilk before they inevitably turned on It.

  The Pruhm wanted to enslave humans, no different than they’ve been doing for millennia. It planned an evolutionary leap to marry the best of both species.

  Anyone standing in Its way would force themselves into extinction.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 11 — Boricio Wolfe

  One minute, Boricio was being led away in cuffs; the next, he was waking up in some sort of pod in a long, dark chamber straight out of Hell.

  He looked around, seeing the others: Brent, Teagan, the kids, and Luca. The kids were directly across from him, ready for Halloween in some sort of fucked-up masks.

  “What the hell is this?” Boricio tried but failed to move in the alien marmalade.

  Brent said, “My guess it’s some kind of system where they’re draining our energy to try and wake Luca.”

  “Is he alive? He don’t look too good.”

  “He woke up once but then passed right back out,” Teagan said.

  Boricio looked at the kids, what he could see of their sad faces in the pods.

  Poor bastards. What kind of fuckers do this to kids?

  “How ya doing, Goonies?”

  “Not good,” Ben said, voice tired, eyes lacking any sign of life.

  Becca didn’t answer.

  Last time Boricio had seen these kids on a trip to The Farm, they were running around, laughing, somehow finding a way to be kids despite living lives in an alien apocalypse. Now they seemed as broken as their parents.

  Boricio said, “We’re gonna make these bitches hurt when they dookie.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Teagan asked.

  Boricio wasn’t sure if there were cameras, or any way to monitor them hidden among the alien flesh walls. So he winked and said, “No, but trust me. We will get out.”

  Brent asked, “Where are the others?”

  “Well, let’s see … Marina was infected and sold us out. Pretty sure she killed Barrow and Jevonne. Mary, I have no idea. Lisa either.” Boricio left out details of Lisa’s injury in case someone was listening, going right to the one that would hurt Brent and Teagan most. “And Keenan … well, he didn’t make it.”

  Brent stared, tears welling in his eyes. “Dammit.”

  Teagan closed her eyes. Boricio couldn’t tell if she was crying.

  Becca cried, “We’re all going to die.”

  Ben started crying, too.

  This shit was too much for Boricio.

  He didn’t know which verbal treasures were apt to calm kids, especially ones as young as these. At least he could reason with Paola. But she hadn’t been prone to crying tangents.

  Boricio was trying to think of something a bit more inspirational than, “Kiss your asses goodbye, we’re fucked,” when the door slid open and Desmond entered the chamber.

  Boricio turned to the alien cocksucker, glaring, but momentarily holding his tongue. He wasn’t sure where Emily was with her part of the plan, if she’d pulled her daddy onboard or was still aiming to kill Desmond herself. He hoped not on the latter — that was a Hail Mary and a half sorta move, and he’d made that perfectly clear.

  Either way, Boricio would have to watch his lip to keep them all from getting killed. If he fucked up, then Emily’s plan would fall apart faster than a bitch agreeing to “just the tip,” whatever it was.

  Emily’s father stood behind Desmond. Boricio wondered if she’d had a chance to talk to him, convince him to help them out. Probably not. The schlumpy fuck was frozen, staring at them all, seemingly awaiting orders like one of Hitler’s Youth.

  Boricio tried to send another thought to Emily, wherever she was.

  Did you talk to your daddy yet?

  He tried sending a visual of what they were dealing with, their collective confinement in pods on the wall.

  He had no fucking clue how this telepathy shit worked. He’d experienced it a couple of times but had never felt like he could control it, or direct the conversation. And that was with Luca and Paola, people he was connected with. Not Emily.

  Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it was his message that got her to teleport away when he decided to go for broke with the bandit fucks.

  He waited to hear some kind of response, hoping to hear the girl’s voice in his head.

  Nothing.

  Desmond walked over to Boricio, smiling his toothy fucking grin. “Ah, if it isn’t the infamous Boricio Wolfe! Finally, my collection of Luca’s pets is complete.”

  Boricio glared at Desmond, biding his time.

  Keep talking, fucker. It’s only gonna make what I do to you all the worse.

  Desmond looked Boricio up and down.

  “You were one of our favorite bodies to be in, despite the destruction in your mind. So, so messed up.”

  Boricio finally bit. “Sorry. Why don’t you hop back in and give me another chance?”

  Desmond laughed. “Nice try. But I think I’ll stay where I am.”

  Desmond paced, looking at them all as if making internal calculations.

  “Why don’t we just cut to the chase and you tell us why we’re all here?” Boricio said. “You looking for the best place to shoot it?”

  “You’re here, Mr. Wolfe, because you are all going to help me convince Luca of what he must do.”

  “Ah, well, why didn’t you just say so? Wake him up, and let’s chat. Then we can all be on our merry way.”

  Desmond looked at Boricio, no indication in his eyes of what his plans for them might be after he got what he wanted. With most people, you could tell by their reaction if they intended to kill you. Most people, save for crazy fucks like Boricio, would look away, if even for a fraction of a second, like they couldn’t quite come to terms with the horrible shit they intended to do. But Desmond was a blank slate. Hard to tell if he’d have any remorse for killing a couple of kids. Hell, the aliens probably didn’t regard humans any better than humans regarded insects: pests to be dealt with. Your boot didn’t flinch for the roach.

  Desmond said, “Yes, let’s get on with it.”

  The walls pulsed red, and a loud swooshing echoed in the room. Almost immediately, Boricio felt his energy fading. Within twenty seconds, staying awake was nearly impossible. He remembered Brent’s comment, that the boxes were a way to give their energy to Luca.

  Brent, Teagan, and the kids nodded off — at least Boricio hoped they were only nodding off and not dropping dead — within another minute.

  Boricio yawned, trying his best to stay awake.

  Do not fall asleep.

  Stay the fuck awake.

  “What the hell is this?” Boricio asked.

  Desmond answered, “We’re waking The Light.”

  Suddenly, a scream.

  Luca was awake.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 12 — Emily Roberts

  Emily sat in the doctor’s room,
waiting for Dr. Blaire to return and complete her examination. The doctor was one of the few people who worked on the ship that Emily didn’t think was hosting an alien. But that didn’t make her trust the woman any more than the others.

  After checking her vitals, Dr. Blaire had asked Emily a series of questions pertaining to her time with the “rebels.”

  While Emily had tried her best to pretend that these people were her enemies, for appearances’ sake, there must’ve been something she hadn’t managed to hide — something that tipped the doctor off. The woman excused herself almost immediately, telling Emily she’d be right back.

  Emily stared at the door, wondering if she tried to open it if she’d find it locked.

  Get out. Now, before she comes back.

  No, stay put, play it cool. If I get up, I’ll screw everything up.

  Emily hadn’t even had time to talk to her father, and needed to get him alone and figure out how to help Luca, Boricio, and the others — or kill Desmond.

  She’d spent the past half hour or so since arriving in the doctor’s office trying to come up with a way to get her father to help. It would take convincing, but Emily was hopeful that she’d be able to sway him. He played the loyalist well, but Emily knew that if he could see a way to end the alien occupation, he’d do it. His biggest concern, of course, would be protecting her. He wouldn’t want to do anything that might endanger his daughter, like betraying Desmond and the aliens.

  But if he thinks we stand a chance at toppling them. If I show him what Boricio is capable of … maybe.

  She thought of her father’s overreaction to Boricio when they got off the shuttle, how he’d stormed over, an embarrassing, overprotective father who didn’t know what he was talking about. She was furious but had to hide that fury lest her sympathies be too evident.

  How do I get past his rage? He must be so scared.

  Emily had only one option. She had to show him everything that Luca had shown her.

  If he sees that, if he sees the good in these people, and what they’d been through, there’s no way he’ll deny my request. He’ll have to help. Yeah, we’ll need to figure out how to kill Desmond, but if I can convince him of the need, he will find a way.

  The door opened.

  Emily turned, startled, certain she’d see a Guardsman with the doctor. Or heck, maybe Desmond: We’re onto you, Miss Roberts. Come with us, please.

  But the doctor was alone, carrying a transparent box with four bottles of clear liquid.

  Emily tried to hide her relief. “So, doc, how am I?”

  “Good. You’re a bit low on electrolytes, but otherwise, fine. I’m going to give you some liquids.”

  She handed them to Emily. “Drink one a day, along with your normal rations, then come back and see me. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Emily stood, eager to leave the office. “Thank you.”

  Emily rushed as fast as she dared without drawing attention, searching for her father. She figured he was either in his office or busy with the prisoners. Emily was hoping for the former so she could get to him before he went in to see them, and maybe work out some sort of plan.

  Emily made her way to the elevator, and as the doors closed, tried sending a message to her father, letting him know she was coming.

  She commanded the elevator to take her to his floor.

  The door hissed shut.

  Then something stopped the door from closing.

  Marina, wearing Black Guardsman gear except for a helmet, stepped into the elevator. The door closed, trapping Emily in the box alongside her.

  “Hello, Emily. You got away from me once today. That won’t happen again.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve told Desmond about your alliance with the rebels.”

  “What are you talking about? I was a prisoner.”

  “I heard you talking.”

  Emily wasn’t sure if Marina was bluffing, or if she’d been around when Emily was talking to them about not wanting to be on the ship. She couldn’t remember what she said or who was around.

  Emily decided on a bold approach, one she’d seen her father take a few times with people attempting to get on his bad side. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but I would’ve said anything to keep them from killing me. Why don’t you come with me to talk to my father so we can straighten this out?”

  “We never cared much for your father … or talking.”

  A quick movement, so fast Emily didn’t register what it was until the blade entered her gut then drove up.

  “Help!” Emily gasped, dropping the bottles of electrolytes.

  Marina pushed the blade higher, eyes boring into Emily’s, watching her slump to the ground, consciousness fading, a blur spreading from the edges of her vision.

  The elevator opened.

  Marina turned and left Emily dying on the floor.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 13 — Luca Harding

  Luca woke to see the enemy staring at him, his friends all held captive, a mask fitted tight to his face.

  His head swam in confusion, dull with pain. Everything was blurred and double. A horrible swooshing sound wreaked further havoc in his head.

  The Darkness in Desmond’s form approached, eyes wide in delight.

  “Now,” Desmond said, “before you get any thoughts of teleporting away, or teleporting your friends out of here, know that doing so will kill them.”

  Luca wasn’t sure if Desmond was bluffing, or how exactly teleporting them out could get them killed. But he wasn’t about to take any chances.

  Luca nodded.

  Emily’s father stood behind Desmond. Luca recognized him from her memories. He’d been brought here to decay Luca’s resolve, to get him to do something. Luca could feel it on the man’s thoughts, which were practically bleeding into air around him.

  He looked up to see Boricio struggling in the jelly that held him in his pod. He could feel the man’s anger rolling from his body.

  Relax, Luca thought to him. Save your energy.

  It was tough to tell if Boricio heard the thoughts. He kept glaring at Desmond, black waves still roiling in fumes.

  Desmond stared at Luca then looked at the others. “Why are you obsessed with saving humanity?”

  Luca asked, “Why are you so obsessed with destroying it?”

  “I’m not destroying it. I am supplanting it. Their time is over. It’s time for a new species to take custody of this planet. It’s not like they were taking care of this world, right?”

  Desmond went over to Boricio, grabbed him by the hair, and yanked his head up to face him. “You’ve seen how these animals treat one another. And yet you side with them over your true nature?”

  Luca knew that Desmond wasn’t talking to him, but rather The Light.

  But The Light wasn’t responding. Luca couldn’t sense it inside him at all — the first time in a long while that he hadn’t. Sure, he’d felt it less and less during the last few months, but it was always present. Now, he felt alone in his body, unable to feel the connection to his friends.

  What’s happening?

  Are you there?

  Nothing. Could The Light have died? Or was this pod somehow restricting The Light’s presence?

  Desmond shoved Boricio’s head back, then turned away from him. “What was it you hoped to do, spread your seed around this barren wasteland? Did you think you could save them from their fate? Did you think you could stop evolution?”

  “You are not evolution,” Luca said. “You are annihilation. There is a distinction. In your world, humans are hosts with no free will. Vessels. No lives worth living.”

  “Says the alien residing in a boy. Wait, not residing in, but parasitically thriving in. And how is that working out for poor Luca? How old are you supposed to be? Twelve? Yet you have the body of a withered old man. Tsk-tsk. Your hypocrisy knows no bounds, Light. You call us Darkness, as if we’re different. But we both know that’s a lie
. You are no different than us. You are us, but too blind to see it. We are one and the same, created by our masters with a singular job — cultivate this species into something they can use.”

  Luca’s headache turned into an ice pick.

  Someone was trying to get inside his head.

  He looked up to see the guilty party: Emily’s father. That’s why he was standing there. While Desmond distracted Luca, the man was probing, picking at the edges to find a way inside.

  Luca pushed him out. Whatever Desmond wanted couldn’t be good for any of them.

  Paul flinched, shaking his head, momentarily rattled by Luca’s resistance.

  Desmond looked at Paul. “Can’t get in?”

  “Let me try again.”

  “I have a better idea.” Desmond touched the communicator on his shoulder and said, “Bring the girls.”

  Girls?

  Luca and Boricio traded a glance. The swooshing held its incessant drone. They were all asleep, except Boricio. Luca could feel their lives slipping away. These pods were designed to sap their will, feeding their energies into him.

  “Turn off the machine!” Luca demanded. “You’re going to kill them.”

  “Again, with the interest for these insects. We wanted to make sure you were awake enough to do what we need you to do.”

  “I mean it,” Luca said, staring Desmond down. Though his body was frail and he hardly had the energy to speak, much less intimidate, he did his best to sell his sincerity. “I don’t know what you want, but if you kill them, you won’t get it.”

  Desmond looked at Paul.

  Paul nodded.

  Moments later, the swooshing stopped, likely controlled by Desmond’s mind.

  The machine was off, but everyone other than Boricio was still unconscious. Which was probably a good thing for their sakes. He hated that the others, particularly the kids, were here, being used as leverage for whatever plot The Darkness had.