Yesterday's Gone: Season One

by Platt, Sean

  Mary’s face must’ve given away how crazy she thought Desmond was being. He laughed, sending a stream of Pinot into the air. “I’m sorry,” he said, still laughing. “I realize I’m being ridiculous and confusing. The whole idea of this conversation is just... ludicrous... I mean, I think about this stuff in my head all the time, but never out loud to my neighbors and never because it might have value outside my own brain. Not to mention I’m probably not making a whole lot of sense.”

  Mary took her second sip of wine. “I’m completely following,” she said with a smile, “and loving every word. Go on.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” A final laugh, then, “You’ve seen the Terminators, Matrix, iRobot, Battlestar Galactica; all the end-of-the-world, robots-win-and-we-all-lose type movies, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s the technological singularity in action. Technology gets smarter and faster until it’s smarter and faster than us. The created become the creators. Fascinating concept. So what if that’s in play here? Maybe we created something without realizing it, or maybe nature created something to fight back against something we did? I don’t know the who or why, and really, I couldn’t even guess, but something about this seems almost... organized.”

  Mary shuddered at the thought of the bodies at the river. She leaned forward in her chair, but before she could open her mouth a horrible clang came from outside, too loud to be an accident.

  Desmond sprung from the couch, gun in hand by his third step. John and Jimmy were on guard duty, each stationed on the far end of the lobby. They had moved to the middle and were standing side-by-side in front of the doors. Jimmy pointed, “It’s that one.”

  He meant the bleaker in front, but three more were directly behind, four of them moving like an arrow flying toward them in slow motion.

  “Alright guys, we have time. Aim before you fire. And go for the forehead. Don’t aim anywhere else and don’t pull the trigger until you think you can make it. I’ve got the leader.”

  Desmond stepped outside, Jimmy and John followed. All three found their targets then held their aim. John shot first — over the head of his target and into a tree trunk. Desmond’s was next with a bullet that whizzed by the leader’s cheek. Jimmy shot last. No telling where his bullet went, but it wasn’t anywhere close.

  Mary stood behind the three men, still inside the lobby.

  John and Jimmy’s second shots rang in unison, then disappeared together.

  Desmond’s second bullet sailed straight through the leader’s face, which crumbled to the ground even as its body raced forward before falling after three headless steps.

  The remaining creatures regrouped, suddenly single file, but still moving slowly. Desmond got another shot off and the front creature dropped. Almost as if on cue, the two creatures behind, split up, charging the front of the hotel at full speed, forcing the men to split their attention, and increasing the odds that one of them wouldn’t hit their target and the creature would break through.

  “Take the one on the left,” Desmond shouted. Three guns emptied themselves in the creature and it joined its brothers on the pavement.

  The final bleaker was on them in seconds. Jimmy kept clicking his empty gun toward it, panicked. John put his arms around Jimmy’s waist and pulled him back inside the hotel. Desmond charged toward the bleaker with a swift kick to its midsection, then circled behind it, pulled a second gun from a shoulder strap, and shot the creature dead.

  Desmond glared at the parking lot where the rest of the creatures shrank back behind a pair of vans. He then went back into the hotel, out of breath.

  “That was close.” he said.

  “We have to go!” John said, panicked almost to the point of shrieking. “They’re moving in packs now! We can’t sit this out the night. We need to get Paola in the van and move out now.”

  “We can’t do that,” Mary said. “She’s waiting for something.”

  “What?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but she is. She’s waiting for something in her sleep. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t feel her at all. But I know she’s waiting. And I’m not leaving here until she’s ready.”

  “This is crazy,” John said turning away from Mary and talking directly to Desmond. “You can’t possibly agree with this?”

  “Not exactly,” Desmond said. “But I don’t disagree. Mary, you sure?”

  “Yes,” Mary said, somewhat offended that Desmond didn’t say more to support her.

  Suddenly, a scream from Paola. Mary spun around, dropping next to her daughter’s side.

  “See — something is happening inside her right now. We, or at least I, have to see it through. If nothing happens by morning, we can leave, no argument from me. I’ll even load her in the van myself.”

  “Happy?” Desmond asked John.

  “No. But I’m not unhappy.”

  John walked away and Desmond followed, leaving Mary alone with her daughter.

  **

  Paola lay still throughout the night. Mary found sleep impossible for more than a minute or two at a time during the night. By morning, she was exhausted, and barely able to keep her eyes open.

  John agreed to wait until the afternoon since little was happening outside and the creatures’ numbers no longer appeared to be growing. That gave Mary a chance to catch some sleep while Desmond watched over them both.

  “I think something’s happening,” Desmond said, waking Mary with a start.

  She sat up, looked at Paola. Her skin was warm and color returned to her face. Her mouth opened and she murmured something — a handful of not-quite-connected syllables that sounded mostly happy. Like she was talking in her sleep.

  “Something’s happening,” Mary called to the entire lobby.

  “Over here, too!” Jimmy was pointing outside, causing Mary’s heart to speed up. She couldn’t handle another rush of monsters. Not now.

  But the deafening sound outside wasn’t from monsters, but rather a helicopter.

  “W-T-F?” Jimmy said.

  “Did you just say ‘WTF?’” Desmond shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  Mary looked toward the doors, though she couldn’t see the hole in the barrier from where she was. She looked back down at her daughter.” She squeezed Paola’s hand and whispered, “I’ll be back.”

  She went to the door and looked outside, beads of sweat nesting on her forehead as a chill ran down her body. Walking toward them was an old man, tall and thin, next to a small boy who couldn’t have been more than eight.

  The boy.

  That’s who they were waiting for. She knew it. Praise be to whoever sent him, even if it was the same horrible god who had up and ended the world.

  * * * *

  LUCA HARDING

  Luca and Will flew through the sky in the helicopter they’d just grabbed from the local airport. This helicopter wasn’t like the first one. It was old and beat up. It reminded Luca of the “weekend car” Mr. Roberson kept in his garage under a big gray blanket. They had to trade the plane, which made Luca a little sad because it wasn’t nearly as noisy as the helicopter and felt a lot, lot safer, but it was okay because Will said there wouldn’t be enough runway for takeoffs or landings, so they needed something that was easier to move around with while they looked for the people.

  Will said they were going to some place called the “Drury Inn.” Luca asked him about 100 million times how he knew where the people were and even though Will tried to explain it repeatedly, it didn’t make sense to Luca. Will said, “Instinct is the nose of the brain and as long as you’re willing to listen, it usually tells you everything you need to know before your brain has a chance to figure it out.”

  Luca was only eight, but he knew when grownups were keeping part of their stories a secret. There was something about Will’s dreams he didn’t want Luca to know.

  Four Drury Inns were in the area where Will said the people might be, but Will had a feeling that they’d be in the one they were
now flying to.

  “I still don’t understand how I can help her.” Luca said. He didn’t believe he could do anything to help the girl from their dreams, but Will kept insisting that Luca would just know exactly what to do when the time was right.

  “I’ll tell you how it works if you promise not to think I’m crazy,” Will offered.

  Luca thought about it for a minute, then said, “But what if I think you’re crazy anyway. Will you be mad at me?”

  Will laughed, “Of course not. Think we should give it a shot?”

  “Okay.”

  “I think, in fact I’m sure, you have something called Touch. People, everything really, are packed full of energy. That energy blends with their environment. Most energy stays in the body, you know, the thing that lets you carry your brain with you everywhere you go.” Will tapped Luca’s noggin then gave him a wink.

  “Am I making sense so far?”

  “Only kind of,” Luca said. Then added, “Well, not really.”

  Will laughed. “It’s simple. Because living things are always exchanging energy, someone with the Touch can clear the channels needed for healing.” Will was quiet for a moment, then said, “Do you know how often your mom used to get her hair cut?”

  Luca thought, then said, “Yes. She goes on the same Tuesdays when she brings the bread home from the bakery that has the fruits that taste like candy. That’s one time every month.”

  “Does her hair ever look much different?”

  Luca shook his head. “No, it always looks the same.”

  “Why do you think she paid for a haircut every month if her hair never looked any different?”

  “Because she likes to look pretty.”

  “Good answer,” Will said. “If your mom stopped getting her hair cut, her ends would split. Hair doesn’t grow well while the ends are split. People with the Touch, people like you, Luca, know how to make cells grow again, kind of like a hairdresser gives your mother a fresh haircut and makes her hair all thick and shiny.”

  That’s probably why whenever Mommy was sad, I only had to hug her to make the smiles come back. Maybe it’s why Daddy calls me Liquid Sunshine.

  Will’s attention was suddenly out the window. He slapped his knee, then pointed out the window and said, “There it is!” He swung the helicopter in a wide arc, heading left as he lowered them toward the hotel parking lot.

  Luca saw the Drury and it made something inside his stomach twist and tingle as the frames of reality and dreams started to overlap.

  Will pointed below at the clusters of creatures that carpeted the concrete. They were a lot like the ones Luca saw laying in the empty corners in his dreams, except these ones were standing and moving around.

  “What are they?”

  “Not sure,” Will shook his head. “That’s the first time I’ve seen them outside my sleep, at least since the first day.”

  “You’ve seen them before?”

  “Yeah, two in fact. These look stronger, and they’re standing. Ones I saw could barely move. I don’t know what they are.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Not yet,” Will said. “Besides, we’ve got our guard dog.”

  Dog Vader barked, which made Luca laugh and pet the dog behind his thick, furry ears.

  Will set the helicopter at the edge of the parking lot, then hopped from the cockpit and held his hand out for Luca. Luca’s eyes were wide with fear, but he took Will’s hand and jumped to the concrete.

  “Don’t let go, okay,” Will turned to Luca and squeezed his hand. “Trust me.”

  Will pointed to the lobby doors. “We need to get through those doors. Don’t take your eyes off the glass, and don’t let go of my hand. We’ll walk slowly. And we’ll get there in less then a minute, safe and sound. I promise. Okay?”

  “Okay, Will.”

  Dog Vader leaped from the cockpit, and the three of them walked side-by-side toward the front doors of the Drury. The dog’s lip was curled and his teeth were bared, growling at the scary monsters that surrounded them.

  To Luca’s surprise, the monsters kept their distance, as if he, Will, and Dog Vader were the scary ones, not them.

  When they reached the front doors, three men came out to greet them.

  “We’re here,” Will whispered patting Luca on the back. “You did perfectly.”

  Will released Luca’s hand then walked to the man standing in front of the other two. The people in front of the boarded up doors were the people from the dream, including the teenager and the woman standing behind them. She was the little girl’s mother.

  Luca couldn’t see the girl, but he could feel her close by.

  “I’m Desmond,” the man said, offering his hand to Will.

  Will shook Desmond’s hand and introduced himself to the group, then cleared his throat. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I guess I’ll just pour the words from my mouth and see how they fall.”

  He faced the woman. “Ma’am,” he said, “I believe your daughter needs some help, and I’m quite sure that’s why we’re here.”

  The woman gasped, then nodded and burst into tears. She gestured for Will and Luca to come inside the lobby. Desmond, the leader man, put his hand on her arm and whispered in her ear. She nodded, then kept walking toward the makeshift bed where her daughter was sleeping.

  Will and Luca stood side-by-side in front of the girl. “What’s her name?” Luca asked.

  “It’s Paola.” Her mom said, brushing the girl’s cheek.

  Paola.

  “Are you ready?” Will asked Luca.

  Luca said nothing, just looked at Will and nodded, then took a step toward Paola.

  It’s just like when Mommy gets her haircut. The girl needs to be pretty so her energy will start working and make her better again. I know how to do it if I just do what I know, like when I don’t think about anything but hugging Mommy and then her sad spiders go away. She said I’m the best at that, and not just because I’m her little boy.

  Luca placed his palms on Paola’s forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

  * * * *

  PAOLA OLSON

  Paola had no idea how long she had been trying to figure out where she was, but it felt like forever. Time had definitely gotten weird. So had everything else.

  The world was familiar, but... soupy.

  It was Daddy at the gas station, but something awful happened and he suddenly wasn’t Daddy. He did something bad to me... something to my thoughts... then he went away and left me... here.

  She was lying on the ground of the gas station for a while, until her mom and Desmond came to get her. They drove her back to the hotel.

  Why can’t they hear me? They just keep looking at me, worried.

  She didn’t feel like a ghost, or like she imagined being a ghost would feel like. It felt more like she was standing on the other side of the looking glass in a Lewis Carol book. She could see her body, her mom, and Desmond in the vehicle, as if she were watching through a giant window which only she could see through. Paola pushed her hands hard against the world in front of her until the web of reality pushed back, seeping between her splayed fingers.

  She gasped and fell a step back.

  She looked around her again.

  At the far end of the lobby was a giant oak door. It hand’t been there before, and couldn’t have been real since it was too tall to fit the lobby, with a small moat circling the front. A moat full of dead people.

  That’s where the kitchen used to be.

  The door turned into a drawbridge and the moat multiplied 20 times in size. Paola started walking toward it. That dark thing that had pretended to be Daddy had promised her answers. It was probably inside.

  She stepped through the large oak door where the kitchen used to be, but no kitchen counters were on the other side. Just a black hallway with a small square of light at the center.

  The hallway wasn’t long, but when Paola reached the far end and stepped into the light on the other side,
she was obviously on some sort of never-ending road. And while it wasn’t yellow, it was made of brick. The walls around her had fallen away, replaced with flowing fields of grass for as far as she could see in every direction.

  Above her was the clearest, bluest sky she’d ever seen — an endless canopy hanging over miles of neatly bricked road which winded through a meadow, across a flower-carpeted ground, then up into rolling knolls of emerald grass where it vanished at the horizon.

  The road was a thing of fairytales, but something about it was scary. False like the thing that had pretended to be her daddy. She turned back around, but her opportunity to return to the hotel vanished, along with the door and the entire hotel. Nothing but grass. And the road.

  She took a step forward, and then another.

  Paola kept walking for what felt like years, in that way that time seemed to sometimes stretch in dreams. She desperately wanted to run into the thick, tall forests that had cropped up on either side of the meadow and see everything she could not see.

  It was wonderful where she could not go; she just knew it. That’s where the Fantasy lived, all the make-believe her mind had ever made, frolicking free, away from the memories and hard textures of truth.

  But I have to stay on the path. It would be terrible to get lost...here.

  If she didn’t keep walking she would never get to the end of the road. And that’s where the answers were; her dream logic told her.

  Without warning, the scenery changed, instantly shifting from rich, warm colors to a sea of grays. From Oz back to Kansas.

  Flat landscape gave way to a tapestry of small gray hills at the front, larger ones in back, growing in size until they crashed into charcoal smeared mountains that stretched high and into churning gray clouds overhead.

  Paola was walking for hours, or perhaps seconds, when she realized what the mountains were made of. At first they seemed like nothing more than ash-colored wedges of dull pulp, but as they grew in size, they sharpened in detail.