Yesterday's Gone: Season One

by Platt, Sean

  Piles and heaps and rivers of refuse were there; herculean hallways of nothing but garbage: cracked plastic, shredded paper, twisted metal.

  The piles, along with the rising landscape getting closer to the clouds above, sent Paola into a cold claustrophobia. Paola saw a figure in the distance standing on the right side of the road, its shoulders slouched and its back to Paola. It looked like it was holding something close to its body as it swayed from side to side.

  She inched toward the figure, and brushed against a gnarled root coming out of the ground. Only it wasn’t a root, but rather, more garbage. As she touched it, her mind flashed back to when she was six years old.

  They’d been looking everywhere for her kitten, Doodles. But the cat had gotten out when Paola had accidentally left the front door open. Someone was at the front door. Their neighbor, Mr. Jerry. He said he’d found the kitten in the road. It had been hit by a car. He held it in his hands, its rear legs crushed. Paola cried both as a child, and now as she relived the memory.

  That’s when she realized that each piece of the garbage was, in fact, made from her memories. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she was suddenly certain that the memories were painful and could swallow her whole, if given the chance. As if the memories were stripped of nutrients and only the bad stuff was left.

  The stuff that made you cry or feel lonely; hide or want to die.

  Paola gasped when she realized the person on the side of the road was her father. He was pushing a broom and clearing the road from any stray or dangerous memories. He turned to Paola. “Not quite safe to pass yet,” he shook his head. “Been going as fast as I can, but they just keep piling up.”

  “What happened?”

  “Something upset the apple cart. Plowed right through, fast as it could. Looks like it took everything with it.” Paola’s dad pointed off the trail toward a black bricked spire rising from the ground and pointing toward the sky. “See that, that’s where he is.”

  “Who?”

  “You know who,” he said. “Same one who sent you inside here.”

  “Why is he inside me? I can feel him in me.”

  “He’s not whole. Most of him already left, but a part of him broke off. Like a snake.”

  “Do I have to go inside?” Paola asked, looking up at the black castle, and the dark memories surrounding her suddenly seemed less scary by comparison.

  “No, sure don’t,” he shook his head. You could wake right now if you want to. Everyone will see you and you’ll see them. But you won’t know who they are, no matter how hard you try. You won’t even know who you are, not ever again. Because all this,” he waved his hand at the mountain of memories. “Every bit of it’s gonna be gone.”

  “What’s inside the castle?” Paola asked.

  “I don’t know anything you don’t,” he said, “but I can tell you what you’d probably guess anyway if you think it will help.”

  Paola smiled. The man who was only sort of a memory of her father had said that exactly like her real daddy would have.

  “Okay,” she said. “Then tell me that.”

  “That castle is the middle of you. It’s your soul. Inside, there’s something to fight or face, or team up with or tell off. I don’t think you can know until you get there, but you can expect it to get rough. Just make it through, and never forget what’s on the other side of the spire.”

  “What’s on the other side?”

  “Me, your mom, the rest of your life, of course. But you can’t have it without this.” He snapped his fingers and the warm colors of Oz flashed across the sky before going dim a second later.

  “Are you still alive?” she asked.

  “What do you think?”

  Paola didn’t know how to answer the question.

  “It’s time for me to go,” he said. “Time for both of us to go.”

  Paola went to hug her father, but he disappeared just as she drew close. So did everything else, except the black castle, barely visible in the darkness. Paola couldn’t even see the ground, her feet vanishing in the clouds which flowed like thick, fast-moving fog blanketing the world.

  Every step Paola took toward the castle caused it to move two steps farther away. She was walking a few minutes before deciding to try a step back. She was rewarded with the castle moving two steps closer toward her. Cold, wet wind whipped her and lashed at her hair, as she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.

  Paola continued to walk slowly backward, a foot at a time, careful not to fall over the edge of a narrow road, which was now high in the air with nothing but endless empty on either side.

  Each step sent her back into another awful memory.

  Small memories seemed massive, each one an attacker in the dark at her most unarmed. She longed to turn, run toward the barren land behind her, then keep running until her dying breath. It would be better than this.

  But she couldn't.

  The blackness swam over her face, threatening to swallow her.

  She was going to die.

  The dark memories were in her mind, her lungs, her body.

  Every step back was another cool blade warmed by her blood, but she kept pushing forward, knowing that the icy black of a starless universe was better than the hollow void of a doused existence.

  I’m supposed to be in bed, but Mom and Dad are asleep. And the movie I’m not supposed to be watching has horrible monsters and terrible screaming. And fires. Lots and lots of fires. When a mouse scurries across the floor, my screams bring my parents running into the room.

  I’m eight, saying Bloody Mary into the bathroom mirror. I know it’s just my mind playing tricks, and not something staring back at me with red eyes through the glass, but my heart feels like it’s going to explode and no one can hear me scream.

  I’m in Grandma’s room, just after she died. I’ve fallen asleep on the bed facing the mirror. I wake up slowly and can hear Grandma’s whisper behind me. Her image shimmers in the glass and I’m sure there is more than one reality.

  No more.

  Paola peeled the black from her body, yanked it from her throat, then stepped outside her memories, letting terror drop to the road like an empty wetsuit. Paola found herself standing in front of the open castle door. A dim red light bathed the walls inside the castle, making it seem almost warm. While she was so cold.

  A booming voice thundered through the black.

  “Very good,” it said. “You’re almost here. Just a few more steps.”

  Paola crossed the bridge then stepped into a huge room with massive ceilings which she couldn’t see through the clouds. The floor was carpeted in plush black, with threads so deep and thick they looked like colonies of crawling worms.

  Across the room was another open door. Paola stepped inside. It was a small room with nothing in it. She expected a throne room with evil claiming his castle seat, but fear and evil often thrived in whisper.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked the empty room.

  Except the room wasn’t empty. The voice was everywhere. And when it spoke, its waves rolled through Paola.

  “Nothing,” it said. “I’ve taken everything I need already. The only thing I want now is to give something back to you.”

  “You don’t want to give me anything.”

  “Oh, that’s not true,” the voice soothed, flowing through her and making her feel almost... good. “I’ve taken so much, now I long to ease your pain.”

  “By taking my memories until there’s nothing left of me?” Paola shook her head. “No thanks. Tell me how to get my memories back and how to leave. You’re inside me, that means I know what you do, and you have to tell me.”

  Something screeched inside the walls.

  “You can leave whenever you want,” it hissed. “I’m not holding you here.”

  “Yes you are.”

  The door where she entered disappeared and a new one opened on the other side of the room, slowly widening to Oz-colored meadows. “See,” the voice said.
“What are you waiting for?”

  Paola looked out the window then shook her head.

  The voice started to rumble as the walls began to shake and the red light within them grew brighter, hotter.

  She closed her eyes and started slowly rocking back and forth, chanting to herself to keep the voice’s long strings of nasty words away.

  “LEAVE!” the voice thundered.

  Thick smoke smoldered through the room. It was what was left of the creature.

  Paola smiled. Its anger was making her stronger.

  The Oz-colored meadows outside flickered with ash, then turned warm again.

  “Looks like your lie is wearing off,” she said.

  The voice bellowed. “I’ll kill everyone left in the world, starting with your mother.” The black smoke swirled through the room, then added, “Your father’s next.”

  Something collapsed inside Paola. The evil had found her single biggest creeping fear. She tried to keep the whimper inside, but lost it anyway.

  The voice went still and every inch of her world was quickly turning to black, the red walls of the castle now cold and dark. Wind howled through the room, wet and so cold.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip and started murmuring.

  You’re not here. You left because you’re an empty disease and I was too good for you. You can’t hurt my mother and you can’t hurt my father. You want me to leave because then you can take over.

  “But I won’t let you,” she said, standing up and opening her eyes as the smoke swirled, gathering strength from the wind, growing thicker, and louder.

  “Gooooooooooooooo!” it shouted, its voice an almost mechanical echo.

  “You go!” she yelled, “YOU GO!”

  The clouds above met the swirling smoke around her, spiraling into a funnel cloud of chaos that picked her up and lifted her toward the unseen ceiling. Scraps of memories slammed into her from all sides, coming and going so fast they blurred into one another, causing her to cry, fear, panic, rage, and scream all at once.

  I won’t go.

  She lifted higher, her body now spinning in the outer band of the swirling cloud, as if Dorothy caught in the tornado.

  She closed her eyes and thought of her parents, struggling to hold onto good memories as bad ones continued to assail her from all sides. Each time they hit her, they ripped into her body, piercing it like knives.

  I won’t go.

  Something slammed into her and she felt her body fly higher and higher, fear coursing through her, certain she was going to hit the ceiling. But she kept flying upward, caught in the tide.

  I won’t go.

  And then, like that, she was in free fall through the clouds, the dark smoke gone. She closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t plummet to the earth only to die. Before she fell, though, she passed out.

  When she woke, she was back in Oz, under blue skies and a warm sun. She was still in the dream, but reality seemed closer than ever. She ran as fast as she could through the daisy-covered meadow to find a boy her age, or slightly older, swinging on a swing set in the middle of a clearing.

  He slowed to a stop. “Would you like to swing with me?” he said pointing to the empty seat next to him. “I’ve been saving this one for you.”

  * * * *

  LUCA HARDING

  This doesn’t feel like I thought it would. It’s like swimming, except it’s air and not water and everything is clear instead of blurry. It’s like swimming through the sky with special goggles.

  Everything faded to white and Luca found himself walking through a large meadow with a tall wooden swing a hundred or so feet in front of him. Two empty seats were there. Luca chose the one on the left and started to swing, saving the other for Paola.

  He could see her not too far off, stuck in the shadows with that thing that hid in the terrible scary and made all the good dreams go bad.

  Once she knows I’m out here, she’ll want to come and join me.

  Luca knew it with certainty, so he wasn’t at all surprised when Paola managed to make the bad disappear, then stepped outside and into their shared sun. She saw Luca, then crossed the meadow and stood beside the empty swing as he slowed to a stop.

  “Would you like to swing with me?” he said. “I’ve been saving this one for you.”

  She said yes, then sat and started to pump her legs back and forth.

  Up and down...up and down...up and down.

  Luca swung too.

  Up and down...up and down...up and down.

  They were quiet for a while until Paola finally broke the silence.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Coming to help me.”

  “I’m not really sure what I did.”

  “Me either, but everything looks so pretty now.”

  Back and forth...back and forth...back and forth.

  Back and forth...back and forth...back and forth.

  “Do you know what happened?”

  Luca shook his head. “Even Will doesn’t know.”

  “Who is Will?”

  “My friend. He’s the one who brought me here. He’s been dreaming about you and your mom, just like me.”

  “Do you know what’s supposed to happen now?”

  Luca shook his head again.

  “Do you know how we get home?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think we can probably go whenever we really want to.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Not yet,” Luca said.

  “Me neither. I miss my mom, but everything here is so... calm.”

  “Yeah.”

  Back and forth...back and forth...back and forth.

  Back and forth...back and forth...back and forth.

  The Indian was leaning against a tall Jacaranda tree, like the kind across the street from Luca’s house in Las Orillas. The fallen blossoms painted purple on the ground around him as the Indian looked into the sky and smoked his giant plastic pipe.

  “Do you see the Indian over there?” Paola asked.

  Luca laughed, “Yes, he’s my friend. He’s actually my dog.”

  Paola didn’t seem surprised. “What’s his name?” she asked. “The dog, not the Indian.”

  “I call him Dog Vader, but he doesn’t really like that very much. So I call him Kick, but only out loud. And most time, I forget, and call him Dog Vader.”

  Paola laughed and Luca joined her, then they fell into quiet together.

  They swung in silence. They had no way to count minutes in a place that didn’t have any hours, but they swung back and forth and up and down until Paola finally flew from the top of her swing and landed with both feet in the soft, flowing grass.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  Luca slowed to a stop, then joined Paola. He took her hand, because it seemed like the right thing to do, then they walked toward the rainbow together.

  The rainbow was both near and far. They took only a few steps then the colors scattered into darkness. They found themselves blinking awake beneath the dim light of the hotel lobby.

  “Mom!” Paola yelled.

  Her mom was sobbing. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

  Everyone seemed happy, but Luca felt another feeling in the room as well.

  They’re staring at me and they’re scared. They’re looking at me, but their thoughts are the same as if they were looking into the terrible scary.

  Luca noticed that his clothes were all torn, including his shoes.

  Will’s hand was on Luca’s shoulder. He dropped to his knee and whispered, “Come with me,” then led Luca across the room to a pair of full-length mirrors on the other side.

  Luca stared at his reflection.

  He was him, but not like he remembered.

  He was now slightly taller than Paola with a full head of hair that fell just past his shoulders.The face staring back at him was at least a good five years older, and looked remarkably like his father’s.

  * * *
*

  TEAGAN MCLACHLAN

  Teagan stayed hidden in the stairwell as Ed negotiated with the emo-looking guy with the bat. When the guy swore that he didn’t mean any harm, Teagan cringed, praying Ed wouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later as he’d been doing since they met.

  When she heard the bat hit the ground, relief washed over her. She was fairly sure Ed wouldn’t shoot an unarmed guy. If he had, she might have lost it right there and taken off, as far and as fast as she could.

  She was grateful to Ed for helping her and possibly saving her life twice, but that nagging part in her brain was still reminding her that not once had he waited to find out if the people he killed were friend or foe. Shoot first, ask questions later. Except when people were dead, there wasn’t a lot they could answer to.

  Had the men in the gas station posed an actual threat to them? Maybe they were just people looking for answers, like them. And who was to say the helicopter wasn’t from the government looking to help?

  When Ed started talking rather than shooting, Teagan found her breath again. Perhaps they’d found someone else after all. Someone they could work with to figure out what was going on, or maybe find others who were still here.

  When Teagan heard Jade, she emerged from the stairwell.

  Ed’s daughter looked like she was in her early 20’s, with auburn hair and green eyes like her. If Jade’s hair had been long instead of a short pixie cut, she could have easily passed for Teagan’s slightly older sister. Their resemblance was uncanny, which made Ed finding Teagan, a girl who looked so much like his daughter, after the rest of the world vanished, a most odd coincidence.

  Yet, there they were, all breathing just a few feet apart.

  Jade ran to her father and threw her arms around him. Ed held tight like he’d not seen her in forever, and maybe never would again. As the two embraced, Teagan felt a longing for her own father. Not the man she’d come to know, but the one who’d once been a kind, doting daddy, not yet reduced to shreds by life’s slings and arrows. He hadn’t been that man in a long time, so Teagan was only missing a ghost of a ghost. A good feeling, once remembered.