Yesterday's Gone: Seasons 1-6 Complete Saga

by Sean Platt

  He didn’t wait to finish his sentence — tried to catch Boricio by surprise instead with a wide swing somewhere around the word “or.” But Boricio saw the bat coming. He dodged the blow, and the bat whistled by him.

  Boricio charged Testosterone, throwing both hands around the bat. Testosterone saw him coming and tightened his grip as Boricio latched on. They stumbled across the room, each trying to gain control of the bat as Team Boricio stood on the sidelines like fucking spectators or cheerleaders, nobody going for the other gun in the room.

  In a battle of brute strength, Testosterone had the edge. He pulled the bat free, sent Boricio sailing to the floor with a swift kick to his chest, then landed the first blow to Boricio’s ribs before he was halfway up.

  Boricio fell back to the floor, just as the tip of Testosterone’s boot clipped him beneath his chin. Another half inch or so and the fucker would’ve broken his jaw.

  “You’re gonna wanna stop right there.” Charlie said.

  Well how about that? Janie got a gun. Looks like someone just made the highlight reel on SportsCenter.

  “Shoot him!” Boricio yelled.

  “No, no, no,” Testosterone shook his head and wagged his finger back and forth. “I’m the only thing that can keep you alive right now, believe you me. You all are dead the minute you step out this door. But you shoot this fucker here,” he gestured toward Boricio, “then you and everyone in this room gets to see the only future there is left.”

  “Why’d you bring us here to start with?” Charlie asked.

  “No, I’m not answering your questions until you put a bullet in this grease ball,” Testosterone said, “This is your one chance to join us. Or join the dead. Your choice, kid.”

  Boricio turned to Charlie. “Now I know you’re too smart to believe a single word this fucktard is saying. He brought us here to kill us, all of us, and that’s what he’s gonna do. He’s the cunt hair who ordered you tied up; I’m the one who set you free.”

  Charlie closed his left eye and steadied his aim toward Testosterone.

  “Stop,” Manny said, “Think about what you’re doing, man. This guy is a monster.” He looked at Boricio. “Think about what you’ve seen and heard since you’ve been in here. I mean, the guy just used me as a human shield. It’s only a matter of time before he turns on any or all of us. We’re only here to help him get from point A to B. He won’t care what happens to us at all once we’re out of this place.”

  Boricio laughed. “Awesome job, Captain Obvious.” He turned to the rest of the Team Boricio. “Every word he says is true. I am one gen-u-ine fucker of a Frankenstein. And yeah, I do need all of you to help me escape, and I really don’t see us all playing house once we get outta here. But true as that all is, it’s even truer that none of you is leaving here without a fair hand of help. And yours truly is a whole Hands Across America right now. I won’t kill you, because you’re all on my team. I killed that fucker earlier because he was a turncoat. Anyone else wants to be a free agent; I’ll kill them, too. Because that’s what it takes to protect the team.”

  He turned to Manny. “And no disrespect intended. I assessed as best I could. You were the only thing gonna keep the five of us alive in the seconds I had. Just good math is all.”

  Manny glared at Boricio.

  I’ll have to end him anyway. He don’t wanna be on Team Boricio, and I don’t need no cancer creeping through the group.

  Two shots rang through the room, and Testosterone dropped to the floor. Charlie stood there, shaking.

  “I had to shoot him,” Charlie said. “He was reaching for his gun.”

  “Good boy!” Boricio hollered. He walked over to the Colt on the ground, picked it up, handed it to Adam, then turned to the group. “We ready to roll?”

  Manny grabbed the gun from Testosterone’s holster. Boricio went to the door, looked into the narrow hallway outside, then said, “We’re clear,” motioning the gang through the threshold. Manny was last to pass. Soon as he did, he felt the barrel of Boricio’s bat pressed against his skull.

  “Gonna need your gun,” Boricio said.

  Boricio held his hand out, and Manny filled it without argument. Boricio handed the gun to Jack, then turned to Manny.

  “Despite that little bullshit back there, I’ve every intention of letting you live. However, I sure as hell don’t want my biggest critic holding a gun and walking behind me. We get more weapons, maybe you get to earn yours back. Besides,” Boricio patted his bat. “If I can go without one, you can, too. Now, chop chop.” Boricio waved his hand toward the hallway.

  They stepped into a short hallway without any doors or windows. On the far side was a set of six steps leading to an angled, wooden door.

  They’d been held in a basement.

  Whatever ugly the end of the world hadn’t managed to kill was waiting right on the other side of the cellar door.

  Fifty

  Teagan McLachlan

  Oct. 17

  Morning

  Winding, Georgia

  “What do you mean your father murdered someone?” Teagan asked. Jade was sitting on the bed next to her, cross-legged. “You mean he’s not a cop or government agent or something?”

  Jade shook her head. “He was a mid-level manager at an investment firm. He was a workaholic, burned out, barely present at home most of the time. Then one day out of nowhere, he started talking about people following him. He said he was worried about us, and that we needed to be careful. Said there were ‘agents’ watching him and if anyone came around asking questions or asking us to go with them, to say nothing, and escape the second we got the chance. One day he was at the office, and went totally ape shit. Didn’t just shoot one person, but four.”

  Teagan’s tongue wouldn’t work while her brain tried to make sense of what Jade was revealing.

  “It was all over the evening news. On a Friday afternoon, right there in the parking garage, he killed four people. He told my mom they were secret agents, but that part wasn’t reported. His lawyer claimed it was a psychological collapse caused by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from when he was in Iraq. It never went to trial. He copped an insanity plea and was placed in an institution.”

  Teagan found herself suddenly staring at her recent life through a new filter — had the men in the store been a genuine threat? What about the helicopter and the people aboard it? She’d had a hard enough time accepting that Ed had killed so many people to protect them from possible threats. But what if none of the people was really a threat to begin with? What if all the people he’d killed were innocent? All the people he’d killed for her? Her headache went from dull throb to roaring thunder as she sifted through what Jade was saying.

  “Oh my God. I don’t even know what to say ... Did you and your mom visit him?”

  “We did at first, but then he ... ”

  The bedroom door opened, it was Ed and Ken, severing Jade’s words mid-sentence.

  “We’re back,” Ken said. “We found a few guns, but not a whole lot of ammo.”

  Ed said nothing, eyes on Teagan, as if he sensed they’d been discussing him, that maybe his daughter gave him up.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Jade asked.

  “I’ll go out there,” Ed said, “See if I can get to the SUV, and bring it as close to the front door as I can get. If they come at me, we’ll see how strong they are and adjust our defenses accordingly.”

  “What if they kill you?” Jade asked. “I don’t think you should go out there.”

  “We can’t wait here and see what they’ll do,” Ed said. “Better to act than react.”

  “It’s too dangerous, Dad.”

  “I’ll go,” Ken offered.

  “You ever fire a gun?” Ed asked.

  “Well, um ... no,” Ken said.

  “Then you’re not going anywhere. That bat won’t be enough.” Ed said matter-of-factly, no insult intended, though the kid’s face went crimson all the same.

  “I haven’t seen you in
three years and you’re just gonna run out and get yourself killed?” Jade said, voice going from serious young woman to scared young girl.

  “I’m not gonna get killed. I can handle myself just fine.”

  “You don’t even know what those things are; how can you say something like that?!” Jade turned, pouting.

  To Teagan, Ed looked like a beaten man, too tired to muscle through the motions of an old and weary fight reminiscent of ones he’d had too many times in the past, if not with Jade then surely her mother. Teagan wondered why he didn’t go to his daughter and give her the hug she so clearly craved. For all his so-called talent at reading people, he sucked at reading women. Or perhaps Iraq had rendered him incapable of showing emotion outside machismo.

  “Trust me,” Ed said, “I can handle anything that comes my way.”

  Jade shook her head, and Ed left the bedroom.

  Jade stared at her lap, trying not to cry, slowly failing. Teagan felt uncomfortable, but forced herself to lean over and hug the girl.

  “I’m sorry,” Teagan said.

  “He’s so fucking stubborn,” Jade said, surrendering into Teagan’s embrace. Ken, also uncomfortable, left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  Jade pulled away, “He always does shit like this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He takes unnecessary chances, puts himself at risk to be the big fucking hero.”

  Teagan was confused, “What do you mean?”

  “Even though he wasn’t a cop or agent or whatever the hell he told you he was, he was always stepping in whenever someone was in danger or if someone had done something bad. Like when I was 9 and we all went out to eat in New York City. We were walking back to our hotel when some guy snatched a woman’s purse right in front of us. The guy took off running while everyone on the street just stood around. Well, everyone except my dad, who, without a word to my mom or me, took off running, chased the guy down the block, caught him, and then beat the hell out of him. He came jogging back a few minutes later with the woman’s purse and handed it to her.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Teagan asked.

  “Well, at first, I thought it was kinda of cool. Like he was my dad, the super hero or something. But he started doing this shit all the time. And then it got worse. He would start acting if he thought someone was gonna do something. He’d jump them or scare them off. And when we asked why, he just said he knew the person was gonna do something. He felt it, he’d say, like he’s some kinda psychic or something! It got to the point that we never knew what he was gonna do, and we were scared to even go out with him. Even more scared when he was out by himself. Because then he’d be out late, and my mom and I would be worried that he’d done something stupid and gotten hurt, or worse. And then, a few years ago, when he started talking about the agents and stuff, we should have known it had gotten worse, whatever it was. But I don’t think there’s any way we could have known he’d go that far.”

  “What happened to him in Iraq?” Teagan asked, afraid she might be prying, but too curious not to ask.

  “He won’t say. I asked him once, and he said he doesn’t like to talk about that stuff. I don’t know if he’s ever told anyone.”

  Teagan was quiet for several minutes, sorting through all that had happened, when Jade asked her about herself. Teagan gave the condensed version, then when Jade asked her how she had met her dad, Teagan filled her in on everything, including how Ed had saved her.

  “He shot down a helicopter?” Jade said, eyes wide and hurt. “Oh my God.”

  “He thought they were coming for me,” Teagan said, “for my baby.”

  “Why the hell would he think that?”

  Teagan felt her face flush, “We stopped at a hotel after he picked me up, and when I slept, I had a nightmare about people in helicopters coming for my baby.”

  Jade stared at her. She didn’t come out and say, “Oh, you’re crazy, too, just like my dad,” but her eyes managed for her.

  “I feel terrible,” Teagan said, “He killed them for me. I told him it was a nightmare, and it was probably nothing, but he ... ”

  “He probably would’ve done it, anyway. My dad would’ve found his own reason if you didn’t have one. You just gave a little shape to the nebulous conspiracy theories already spinning in his head.”

  “Does he know that he’s not really an agent?” Teagan asked. “Does he know that you know he’s not one? What if he asks me if you told me anything?”

  Jade thought for a moment. “Oh, he fully believes he is some kind of secret agent. As far as my mom and I are concerned, he thinks we think he’s crazy. Or that he was so deep undercover that we don’t know and now we don’t believe him. As far as you’re concerned, we never had this conversation. I don’t think he’d hurt me or you, but there’s no way to know for sure how far he’s messed up or how deep his paranoia runs.”

  Teagan just stared at Jade, not sure what to say.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Jade said. “I don’t want it to be all weird between you two now.”

  A knock at the door. “Come in,” Jade said.

  It was Ken. “Your dad just went outside to get the SUV.”

  “He did WHAT?!” Jade said, jumping from the bed and running into the living room. “He didn’t even say goodbye?”

  Fifty-One

  Luca Harding

  Oct. 17

  Late afternoon

  Belle Springs, Missouri

  Luca stared at his reflection. He’d gone from an 8-year-old to a teenager in the span of minutes.

  He was himself, 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.

  His clothes were torn, as if he’d grown right through them. Like the Incredible Hulk, except Luca wasn’t green or full of muscles.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Will said, throwing a robe around Luca. “Come on; let’s find you some new clothes.”

  He could feel all the frightened feelings sitting inside of the people. Even the leader man, Desmond, looked at Luca like he was scared in the places he didn’t like to talk about. It made Luca’s sad spiders start to crawl.

  He couldn't explain what had happened to his face, or his body, but he knew it wasn’t his fault, and hated to feel like the room was looking at him like was he part of the terrible scary.

  Especially Paola’s mom, Mary.

  She smiled at him because she knew he had helped her daughter, but Luca could see behind the smile, and her thinking didn’t trust him.

  She thinks I could hurt Paola if I wanted to and that maybe when I helped her it was only by accident. She wants me to stay away, but feels bad for feeling that way. Like when Daddy has work to do.

  Mary cradled Paola. “I was so, so worried. Thank God you’re safe.”

  Will and Luca went into one of the hotel rooms that had a bunch of suitcases laid out and open. “I’ll wait out here,” Will said, leaving Luca alone in the room. “You find some clothes that fit you, okay?”

  Luca didn’t bother to ask whose clothes these were. People who had disappeared. Like his family.

  He found a pair of blue jeans, a red T-shirt, and some underwear, socks, and sneakers that were a close enough match to his new size. As he got undressed, he saw hair in places he’d not had hair before. Though he was curious about his new body, he was also embarrassed, as if he were looking at someone else, so he got dressed quickly, so he didn’t have to see so much of himself.

  He wanted to talk to Will alone, but when he came back out of the room, Will was already in the lobby. Luca joined the group, feeling more self-aware and shyer than normal. Though the people weren’t staring at him, he could feel them looking when he was turned away, like they were trying to figure out how he did what he did.

  Everyone could tell Mary and Paola wanted
to be alone, so Jimmy and Will went to the bar. John and Desmond went to guard their areas. Luca was left to wander the lobby, looking at his feet and keeping away from the mirrors. He wondered where Dog Vader was. Then he spotted the dog curled up near the front door, sleeping. Probably tired from all the adventuring and walking the past few days, Luca figured.

  I sure could use a friend right now.

  He thought about his best friends back home. Scott, Omar, and Billy. He’d been missing his parents so much, he’d hardly thought about his friends at all. He wondered if they were missing, too. Or if maybe they were looking for their parents, too. He hoped they were okay. Luca laughed when he thought of how Omar might react if he saw Luca now looking so much older. Omar was the oldest of the bunch, by six months, and he never let anyone forget it, often acting like he was way older, and therefore more experienced at things than the others. Sometimes the other kids would get in fights with Omar because of the way he was, but Luca never minded. Omar was just being Omar, and Omar was his friend, no matter what.

  Luca stopped in front of a wooden shelf with lots of pockets, all stuffed with brochures, then began pulling them out one by one, starting at the top left corner and moving row by row, and skipping the duplicates, until he pulled the 23rd brochure from the bottom right.

  Luca took his pile of brochures, then sat in a chair to read the sad spiders away.

  He read about the “bird’s eye view from the Gateway Arch,” the “thrills and spills at Six Flags St. Louis” and the “exciting dioramas on display” at the Lewis & Clark Boat House and Nature Center.

  They all sounded like fun adventures, and the pictures looked nice, especially the roller coasters at Six Flags. But none of the 23 brochures helped the sad spiders go away. He still missed his mom and dad and Anna, and couldn’t keep from thinking about how he was making everyone afraid.