Tomorrow's Gone Season 1

by Sean Platt

  “This is why he trusts you.” Olivia smiled. “You see things and aren’t afraid to speak your mind.”

  Her compliments were just another angle. “I’m guessing that Richmond’s opposed to the deal. He doesn’t trust Stratum, and for good reason.”

  “You don’t, either.”

  “No, ma’am, I do not. Do you?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’d like to get this Mr. Kind in a room and have you figure him out.”

  “That could be arranged, though I’m not sure he’ll appreciate it.”

  “Can you dig into heads without their owners knowing?”

  “No. It’s invasive. And, besides, if they’re collecting Alts, then the less they know about ours, the better.”

  “Makes sense.” Olivia nodded.

  “What do you think Richmond will do?”

  “I don’t know. We’re having a Small Council meeting tomorrow. I’d like for you to attend.”

  “I’m on leave.”

  “I’ll talk to the general.”

  “That would be most appreciated. You want to tell me about the strings?”

  Another smile, this one cagey. “I’d never presume to put words in your mouth, but … I would appreciate you coming to the meeting with an open mind, to see the benefits of such an agreement.”

  Pascal nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Are you worried about Elijah?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If they are collecting Alts, how long before they come for your son?”

  “That’s part of the reason I think we should entertain their deal. We have no shared interests right now. But us having something they want means they’re more likely to respect our boundaries and our rules.”

  “Are you worried that they still have guns?”

  She nodded. “We never should have disarmed after what happened.”

  “I agree. You’re a good judge of character. What did you think of Mr. Kind?”

  “I don’t know how much of my judgment is clouded by his promise of bringing fertility science to Hope Springs.” Olivia surprised him with her candor. “We could use some of their success here.”

  Pascal nodded.

  “Don’t you want to start a family again?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t ever replace my wife and daughter.”

  “No, but you don’t have to deny yourself, either. Your wife would want you to be happy. How long before you allow yourself to live again?”

  He poured himself a glass of wine. “As much as I care about Val, I don’t know. I feel … guilty whenever I think about starting … I mean, what if they’re out there, somewhere. What if … what if they come back?”

  He stared past her to the photo of Terri and Rachel hanging in the living room.

  Olivia shook her head. “It’s been fourteen years. Where would they have been all this time?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Pascal said, pouring himself a second glass.

  Twenty-Seven

  Richmond Freeman

  As Olivia and Elijah ate dinner at Pascal’s, Richmond was feeling stressed.

  He headed to Springs Tavern, the pub that lived on the bottom floor of the Hope Springs Inn, hoodie pulled low over his head. He sat in the back, hoping that his casual dress would keep people from bothering him.

  But tonight was busy.

  One of the worst things about being the mayor was trying to eat or drink in peace while people felt entitled to chat, mostly about their problems. Richmond could usually be charming enough to satisfy even the most disgruntled of residents.

  But tonight he didn’t have the patience. If someone came up to him now, Richmond might very well tell them to fuck off.

  As if on cue, he heard a familiar and obnoxious laugh coming from the bar. He looked up and saw General McTaggart with a pretty blonde about half his age. He was in uniform, as always. A revealing blue dress proudly displayed her figure.

  Richmond wondered if he was hitting on the woman or if they’d come in together. He’d lost his wife and kids in The Event. Nearly lost his own life a short while after due to a cancer scare. Richmond had never heard of the general having a girlfriend.

  McTaggart looked in his direction. He leaned over and said something to the woman. She looked back at Richmond, smiled, then nodded.

  McTaggart stood and walked toward the back of the bar, beer in hand.

  “Mayor,” he said with his usual grin. “Care for some company?”

  “Sure.” Richmond waved at the seat across from him. “But I’ve gotta warn you, I’ve had three drinks and I might be a bit of an asshole tonight.”

  McTaggart laughed as he pulled out the chair and sat. “That’s okay, everyone I drink with is an asshole. Nothing new.”

  “I’d hate to take you away from …” Richmond let it hang, hoping the general would fill in the blank.

  “That’s my girlfriend, Monique.”

  “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Did she come with you from Fortress?”

  “She lives here. For the last six months, I think. Came from one of those southern villages that got washed out by flooding.”

  Richmond didn’t recognize her, but there were plenty of people in the city he didn’t know. The less he knew, the better. His father had made it a point to know everyone. How the man could remember all their names and faces and the things they needed was truly a talent — one his son had no interest in possessing if it meant spending more time with people and their problems.

  The waitress came over and asked if they wanted to order anything.

  “One more of these, and freshen the mayor for me. Put it on my tab.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Richmond said.

  “Don’t be an asshole,” McTaggart joked, then turned to the waitress. “Seriously, my tab.”

  An awkward smile, then off to fetch their drinks.

  “So, I heard we had a visitor from Stratum today.”

  Fuck. Who told him? “Yes.”

  “And nobody called me?”

  “It was Hope Springs business, not Fortress business.” Blunter than intended, but Richmond wasn’t in the mood for mincing words. Then, feeling like he needed to say something, he added, “There’s a Small Council meeting tomorrow to discuss the situation. You are free to come if you wish.”

  “Care to give me a sneak preview of what this man from Stratum wanted? Did it have anything to do with the girl?”

  “He made us an offer.” Then Richmond told him the details.

  McTaggart surprised him by saying, “That sounds like a good offer.”

  “I thought you hated Stratum. They massacred people, right in front of you and my father.”

  “That was fourteen years ago. Maybe they’ve changed.”

  Richmond shook his head. “Now you sound like Olivia.”

  “She might cut your balls off if she heard you say that. Assuming she hasn’t already.”

  Richmond stared at him.

  “Relax, it was a joke,” McTaggart laughed. “You really need to loosen up.”

  Richmond wasn’t used to the general being so jovial, or taking a non-isolationist position. “You think we could co-exist? Do you trust them after what they did the last time?”

  “I don’t trust anyone, Mayor. But I do think we need whatever allies we can get when it comes to dealing with the refuse spilling out of The Slums and shanty town. And we could all use some upgraded equipment. Maybe not so much in Hope Springs, but many of the cities are struggling with maintaining their power supplies. This could be a good union. How are you leaning?”

  “I don’t trust them. But I’d like to hear what the rest of the council thinks.”

  “It sounds like a Large Council matter to me.”

  “How do you figure? The deal is with Hope Springs.”

  “Reject their offer and piss them off, what are the odds of them extending their technology elsewhere?”

  “Why should w
e trust them after what they did? My father certainly wouldn’t.”

  “Your father was a great man, but he was also a pragmatist. He knew when to keep his ego out of a decision.”

  “You think I’m letting my ego get in the way of this?”

  The waitress appeared with their drinks, keeping Richmond from cursing the general out. He sipped from his glass as she left, then stared into McTaggart’s eyes.

  But the general spoke first. “Think of your wife. And the other women here.”

  “What?”

  “How long do you think we can maintain a society without the ability to bear children?”

  “We can have children.”

  “Not enough. And meanwhile, The Slums and The Outer Territories are all breeding like rabbits. How long before they want what we have, and decide they can take it? We ain’t getting any younger, son.”

  Don’t call me son. “If they’re breeding in The Wilds and The Slums like you say, then surely we don’t need whatever assistance that Stratum is offering. If those people figured it out, so can we.”

  McTaggart shook his head, then looked around before lowering his voice. “I know you don’t care so much about the ladies and having babies, but the rest of us men are intent on leaving a legacy.”

  “What did you just say?”

  “You heard me.” His grin grew wider, and certainly slier.

  Did McTaggart know his secret? If so, how?

  Now his gut was getting chewed on.

  Just play cool. He can’t possibly know. I’m careful.

  I’m never followed.

  “I don’t know what you’re implying, and I—”

  “Oh, I think you do, sir. I’m not one to judge what a man and another man do in the privacy of some Slum brothel, but I’ve got to say that I’m disappointed in the betrayal of your vows. I guess you do take after your father.”

  He snapped, took a swing, and clocked the general in his jaw.

  Richmond’s hand was already throbbing.

  The general leapt to his feet and looked as if he was readying to wipe the floor with Richmond.

  He stood and raised his fists, too filled with rage to care if he lost the fight.

  Monique rushed over. “Honey, honey, please …”

  McTaggart turned to her, rage dissipating as she put her hands on his cheek.

  She looked at Richmond. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t do this in here.”

  McTaggart nodded, his eyes on the mayor. “You’re right, Mo. He isn’t worth it.”

  Richmond could feel the patrons all staring at him. He wanted to say something, wanted to do something, but what could he do?

  How much did McTaggart know?

  “Let’s get you back to my place.” Then to Richmond, she said, “I’m sorry. He gets a bit like this when he’s drunk.”

  The general shook his head. “I’m not drunk. I’m seeing crystal clear, babe.”

  Richmond glared back at the general, hoping he’d take a swing.

  Instead he turned to follow his girlfriend out of the bar, turning back at the exit. “See you tomorrow morning, lover boy.”

  Then a wink before leaving.

  His rage was pounding and his heart was racing. Richmond needed to leave.

  He dropped some coins on the table and left, still feeling all of those eyes raking his back.

  Walking the lamp-lit streets, Richmond still couldn’t quell his anger, or the fear of how much McTaggart knew.

  He can’t know who I’m seeing. He would have led with that if he did.

  He would’ve told someone. No way he’d keep that a secret.

  But how does he know anything? Who told him?

  Had Sebastian sold him out after their argument? Or maybe his girlfriend, Sasha, knew about their affair and decided to tell someone who delivered the secret to McTaggart?

  No way he would’ve not accused me of conspiring with the enemy if he knew about Sebastian.

  So, what now? Will he tell Olivia?

  Will he tell the council and have me removed?

  Richmond hated the feeling of not knowing what might happen. He felt trapped in the worst way — not knowing when the dagger would come for him.

  Maybe he’s using this as leverage, to get me to agree to Stratum’s deal?

  That made Richmond even angrier to think about. He refused to let McTaggart silence him or push him into betraying his city and its people. He never wanted to be mayor, but now he was, and that wasn’t a responsibility he would abdicate, especially not to the general or Stratum.

  Still walking aimlessly, Richmond played out tomorrow, imagining the most likely scenarios. McTaggart would most likely approach him before the meeting and demand that he agree to Stratum’s deal or else.

  If Richmond refused, he’d be outed and maybe even removed from the council. Then Olivia would take the position and probably the deal.

  If Richmond agreed, he’d be selling out his city to a murderous organization who betrayed his father and countless others. Add that Stratum was experimenting on Alts and searching for some girl, and that Richmond’s son was an Alt as well.

  He hated all of this, yet refused to be cowed.

  What would Dad do?

  Richmond turned, saw the Inn beckoning him, and knew what he had to do.

  He marched over, asked for Mr. Kind at the front desk, then headed up the stairs to his fourth-floor room.

  Richmond knocked on the door.

  Mr. Kind was still in his blue suit and red tie, making Richmond wonder if the man ever relaxed.

  “Well, hello, Mayor. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

  “May I come in?”

  “Certainly,” he said, stepping aside.

  Richmond entered and saw the closed briefcase sitting on the bed.

  A book lay face down and open on a chair next to an endtable with a mug of something.

  “What is it you want with the Alts?”

  “Pardon me?” He raised his eyebrows in an attempt to pretend he was surprised by the bluntness of Richmond’s question.

  “The fucking Alts. You had soldiers in Callan’s Corner looking for a girl, an Alt. You killed her mother and some others.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, s—”

  Richmond thrust his hand out and grabbed the man by his throat, then pushed him back into the wall without a thought.

  “Don’t you fucking lie to me! What do you all want with the Alts?”

  Mr. Kind’s face turned red as he shook his head. He made no real effort to escape, but waved his hands wildly, pleading for release.

  “Tell me!” Richmond shouted.

  Mr. Kind continued to choke, feigning confusion.

  What am I going to do, kill him?

  Richmond finally released.

  After catching his breath, Mr. Kind spoke. “I don’t know what you think is happening, Mayor Freeman, but we have nothing to do with Alts or pursuing some girl.”

  The man maintained eye contact. If this were anyone else, Richmond might believe him. But, as a man used to keeping a secret life, he knew a fellow keeper when he crossed one. And Mr. Kind was holding several sinister secrets.

  “The answer is no,” Richmond said.

  “What?”

  “Your proposal. We’re not interested. Now get the fuck out of my town.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Wolf

  Wolf was surrounded by four of the mutated bandits in a standoff.

  He surveyed his surroundings, cars he could use to put between him and them, buildings he could disappear inside, anything to help even the odds against this band of merry golems. The purple fog was so thick, he couldn’t see anything past the lot of them, making him feel like he’d been gulping a magic mushroom and Everclear smoothie.

  His eyes darted from the one in front of him to the one on his right.

  Its movements were jerky, pausing for one moment before reanimating with a speed that rat
tled him, even though he didn’t want to admit it.

  The alpha came first, swiping at Wolf with one of its giant claws.

  Wolf swung his sword, hit the creature’s arm, and severed its hand at the forearm.

  The creature screamed.

  Behind him Wolf heard another coming.

  He spun around, raising the sword and thrusting it into the thing’s head.

  It screamed and jittered back so quickly, it took Wolf’s sword as it fell to all fours and loped into the fog.

  Fuck!

  He reached for the knife at his waistband, but the alpha was already charging.

  It leapt. Knocked Wolf to the ground and landed on top of him.

  Wolf had managed to raise his knife and drive it into the creature’s stomach, but the mutant barely seemed bothered.

  Wolf’s other hand was clutching at the thing by the back of its skull, holding a tangle of hair as its teeth gnashed, jittering like a stop-motion monster while trying to bite him. Its face was clammy, skin pitted with crevices and wrinkles. Putrid breath, reeking with a blend of rotting flesh and … wet grass of all things.

  The monster kept gnashing.

  Wolf wondered how long the other two mutants would stand by waiting to see what happened. Were they content in letting their leader end Wolf on its own or were they lubing up to join the orgy?

  No way he could hold them all off, and that fucking monk must have found the Truth that he was a cunty, cocksucking little coward.

  “You shouldn’t be heeeere,” the mutant spoke, sending a jolt of shock through Wolf, not just because he’d never heard one of the creatures speak, but because it sounded like the thing had been gargling rocks with a mouthful of acid.

  His fistful of hair was starting to separate from the mutant’s head, and that reeking, gnashing mouth came closer as its scalp began to loosen.

  I wasn’t planning on dancing to the Monster Mash today.

  He dug deeper. Tried to move the knife up into the creature’s gut, but his hand was pinned beneath the mutant’s considerably deceptive weight.

  Wolf gripped the hair tighter as he wriggled his knife hand free.