Yesterday's Gone (Season 5): Episodes 25-30 (46 page)

And now … this.

“Come on!” Boricio grabbed her shoulder.

“No!” Mary yelled. “No more running!”

Keenan kept firing shots. Lights appeared behind them — vehicles pulling up.

Desmond’s voice hit the loudspeaker. “Put down your guns!”

Keenan kept firing at the Guardsmen on the roof. “Tangos at twelve o’ clock down. Got many Tangos at six o’clock. Let’s go!”

Mary stood, grabbed the shotgun, and fired at the five vans, not knowing which held Desmond.

She emptied the shotgun, not hitting anything, as they were out of range, and screamed.

Guardsmen opened fire.

Desmond’s voice returned to the speakers. “Put down your guns, and I’ll let you live.”

“Fuck you!” Mary screamed.

She dropped the empty shotgun and ran toward Desmond, fingers clenched in claws, eager to tear the flesh from his face.

“No!” Boricio yelled, catching up to Mary and grabbing her around her waist, yanking her backward as Keenan emptied his gun at the Guardsmen in front of them.

“Come on!” Boricio screamed into Mary’s ear, dragging her back into the facility, leaving Paola’s still-warm body behind.

“Let me go!” she yelled, clawing, trying to break free.

Boricio held her tight, refusing her wishes.

“What now?” Brent asked.

Someone inside the lobby yelled at them to lay down their weapons.

Mary barely registered the other Guardsmen closing in from behind.

Everything was happening behind a gauze through which Mary could barely hear. Movements seemed slow and underwater.

Mary looked down and realized she was bleeding.

She pulled up her shirt and saw the hole in her abdomen.

Again, time quit.

Mary looked up to see the lobby Guardsmen approaching.

Outside, more Guardsmen.

They were trapped.

She looked to see Ben and Becca screaming as Teagan cowered on the lobby floor, holding them down.

Paola was dead.

The kids would be next.

They were all dead already.

Gunshots shook Mary from her daze and kicked time back into motion.

Calloway, the Guardsman occupied by The Light, fired and took down one of the Guardsmen approaching from the lobby.

The Light was still alive.

Maybe I can get it to heal Paola!

They had to survive. Had to get back outside and to Paola.

Brent and Keenan fired several shots, taking out the other lobby Guardsmen.

“Come on!” Calloway said, “let’s hit the elevators.”

“The elevators?” Keenan repeated.

“We’ll go back downstairs. I may be able to hack the elevator to keep them from following us down.”

“And then what?” Boricio asked.

“I don’t know,” Calloway admitted.

“Wait,” Mary said, “we’ve gotta get Paola. The Light can heal her. Bring her back.”

Calloway shook his head. “I don’t know if I can save her, Mary. I need to save you all first.”

“Please!” she cried. She looked outside to see Desmond and at least twenty other Guardsmen approaching the front doors. It would be impossible to reach her daughter’s body without an army.

Part of Mary wanted to go out and just let Desmond kill her. End the pain.

But as Ben and Becca’s cries cut through her pain, Mary knew she had to do everything possible to keep them alive. Then, she hoped, they could return to Paola in time.

“Let’s go,” Mary cried as she followed them to the elevators.

Calloway opened the elevator doors, and they stepped inside.

She couldn’t believe they were heading back down.

The children’s cries were chaotic within the elevator, killing her focus as she tried to conjure an escape from certain death.

* * * *

CHAPTER 25 — LUCA HARDING

Luca’s skin was burning. He opened his eyes and ended the dream where Mommy was making eggs on his arm.

But he was still too hot. The sun outside was brighter than it was supposed to be.

Luca got up from his bed, surprised to be back in his old house. No, not his house. This was Will’s.

“Hello?” he called out. “Is anyone home? Will? Boricio?”

Neither his adopted father nor brother was home.

Luca had the oddest sensation of déjà vu, as if he’d been here before. The sensation coalesced with another — that he wasn’t supposed to be here at all. 

Something was off in the world.

But Luca’s mind was foggy, and his skin itchy.

Suddenly, he wasn’t home, but outside on the beach. He could hear gulls crying, feel the salt on the cool breeze blowing through his hair, but couldn’t see anyone as far as he looked up and down the shore. He’d never been to a completely empty beach, nor seen a shore so empty with the sun sitting so high in the sky.

Luca wondered if he was in a dream, but something in his surroundings felt peculiar. Something insisted it wasn’t a dream. 

And yet Luca was sure he wasn’t awake. 

He was somewhere in between.

Luca looked out over the water, noticing the many birds dipping and diving, grabbing fish before returning to the sky.

Except it didn’t look like fish. Luca walked closer to the sea for a better look and noticed bits of white stuff bobbing up and down in the tide, some even washing up on the shore before getting dragged back to sea.

The ocean roared as Luca kept moving toward it, trying to see what the birds might be eating.

Warm water rushed over his feet as the tide washed his ankles. Something bumped against his skin, and Luca looked down, finally getting a look at the bird’s meal.

The piece of white got caught against his leg as the foamy tide withdrew, leaving the piece of meat behind.

Luca bent over and saw that it wasn’t meat, but rather a finger.

His stomach turned as Luca realized that the floating white things dotting the tide weren’t fish, but rather thousands of corpses, getting pecked apart as they floated.

Luca screamed, turned, and ran from the shore, straight toward the abandoned boardwalk.

He kept running, not daring to look behind him.

Luca found himself under the boardwalk, suddenly cold and shivering in the dark.

He heard a whining, and saw a pair of blue eyes watching him. A husky, standing there, tail wagging.

“Come here, boy,” Luca said, feeling like he’d seen the dog before, though he couldn’t remember where.

Above him, he heard someone calling out, “Lobster tacos! Get your fresh lobster tacos!”

Lobster tacos?

The voice sounded familiar. 

The dog ran toward the voice.

Luca followed, running up the stairs to the boardwalk, eager to place the voice. He saw the dog, then the little lobster taco stand and an old man behind the cart.

Will!

Luca raced up to his dad, and threw his arms around him.

The dog barked, circling the two of them like a long-lost pet.

“Daddy!”

Luca hugged Will tight. It felt like forever since he’d last seen him. 

“Luca!” Will pat the boy on his head. “Oh God, it’s been so long. How are you?”

“I dunno.” Luca shrugged, looking out at the sea of dead bodies again. “Nothing’s right. I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s because you’re in the hospital. They’re operating on you, and you’re under some powerful sedatives.”

“What happened to me?” 

“You’ve been shot.”

“I was?” Luca couldn’t remember being shot.

Flashes of memory swirled through his head, things that didn’t make sense. A burning compound, a dead girl, and Luca healing her. Paola. He remembered her before another memory came, this one confusing: Will shooting him.

Luca turned his head sideways trying to make sense of the memory. “Did you shoot me?”

“You need to go back now. Your friends need you. Your brother needs you.”

“Brother? Boricio?”

“Yes,” Will said. He pointed to an open elevator where they all stood, facing off against Desmond and an army of armed Guardsmen. 

Will waved to Luca. “Go to them, Luca.”

“Wait,” Luca tried to call out, but Will and the dog were already fading into a bright light.

Luca woke in surgery.

“He’s waking up,” said a man in the distance. 

A nurse shouted to administer some drug he’d never heard of.

Luca struggled to hang on, to focus on where he needed to go. Struggled to connect with his friends in the elevator as the drug made its home in his bloodstream.

* * * *

CHAPTER 26 — BORICIO WOLFE

The elevator was heading down to the eighth level when it suddenly lurched to a full stop on the fourth.

“The fuck?” Boricio said.

“He must’ve overridden the controls.” Keenan aimed his rifle at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open.

Boricio asked, “How many cock swallowers are there in this damned place?”

“Armed? At least forty,” Keenan said. 

“And how many have the alien Ebola?” Boricio asked.

“No idea,” Keenan said. 

Calloway spoke. “I can’t feel how many. Most of them are likely working under Desmond and Bolton, and don’t know that their leaders have been compromised.”

“Still deadly just the same,” Brent said.

Boricio looked at Mary, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at the doors, fists clenched, looking like she could murder the world, or at least every Ebolafied fucker inside it.

A voice crackled to life from overhead speakers.

“Hello, friends,” Desmond’s voice said, “I really hate this unfortunate turn of events. I had tremendous plans for us all. You don’t have to die.”

“Fuck you, Desmondo!” Boricio yelled, hoping the fucker could hear him.

“Ah, Boricio the Great. I would think that you of all people would recognize an opportunity when offered. Don’t you want to live forever?” 

“Not like that,” Boricio yelled.

Desmond continued, “Don’t you all want to be something better than you are? I can give you a life that’s superior to anything you’ve ever imagined. Join me and be a part of humanity’s evolution. We are looking for the best of your species, to bring you with us, and rule the world. No more petty wars. No more murder. No starvation. Enough for all. We can live forever in a paradise of our making. Or … you can stay and die in the old world with the animals. Perish or thrive. Your choice. You have until the elevator reaches the lobby to decide. I suggest you choose wisely.”

Boricio looked around at everyone.

Ben cried, “I don’t wanna die, Daddy.”

Brent hugged his boy, picking him up, tears wetting his eyes. The girl, Teagan, scooped up her crying daughter. 

Boricio would rather die than get an anal tentacle probe from these fuckers.

He looked at Calloway. “Tell us, should we take this offer? Will he let us live? What will life be like?”

“I think he will let us live. Though I’m not sure what your lives will be like. He could conceivably coexist with you as I did with Luca and then with Paola. It
is
possible. But it’s also possible he will consume your bodies and minds … I don’t know.”

Boricio turned to Brent and Teagan. “Hey, I won’t blame you all if you take the offer. Life is life, and I suppose any chance at breathing might be better than a dance with the devil. But I’m not going out like that.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Brent said, his face pale, eyes wide.

Ben cried, “I don’t wanna die, Daddy.”

Boricio turned to Mary. Tears soaked the sides of her face, but she didn’t say a word, nor meet a single eye.

The elevator began to ascend.

Third level.

Ben cried and brought Becca to tears. Teagan choked back her own and said, “I don’t know what to do.”

Second level.

“Tick tock,” Desmond’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Time to decide. Live or die, die or live? By the way, Mary, I can bring Paola back. She doesn’t have to die.”

Mary’s anger faded as her eyes welled up again. She turned to Boricio. “He can bring her back?”

“He’s a liar, Mary. Don’t believe him.”

Mary stared at the elevator doors, looking every bit as torn as Boricio imagined she must be.

Boricio glanced at Keenan who returned his stare with the same stony expression. He, like Boricio, had nothing left to lose, and was willing to go out firing. But was it fair to throw the Brady Bunch into the fray?

The elevator hit the first level, and Desmond came on the radio. “Ding. First level, ladies’ apparel and death. Time to decide.”

The elevator doors began to open.

Boricio met Brent’s eyes. He shook his head no, and Boricio understood immediately. He didn’t want to live, not like that.

Boricio brought his gun to the back of Ben’s head, figuring the least he could do was end the kid’s misery.

Brent caught Boricio’s intention and pulled his son away, shaking his head no.

The elevator doors opened.

Desmond stood behind a line of armored Guardsmen, his head barely visible, using them as a shield. There were at least twenty in a line, each holding a machine gun, all aimed into the elevator’s interior.

Standing in front of them, Paola, her face healed, even though her shirt was stained with blood.

“Please, Mommy, come with us.”

Mary cried out and looked at Boricio, as if seeking permission to do what every bit of her wanted to do.

“Don’t believe it,” he said. “It’s not your daughter.”

Mary closed her eyes, turning away from Paola, crying.

“You don’t have to die. You can all come and be truly free,” Desmond said. “Just step off the elevator and join us.”

Boricio surveyed the line of men who waited for either surrender or war. Of the three with guns, Boricio figured he would have the best shot at killing Desmond, but doing so would likely get everyone in the elevator killed.

Desmond said, “Whoever wants to live step off the elevator.”

Boricio looked at Brent and Teagan.

Neither flinched.

Their children cried, and they hugged them closer.

Boricio swallowed, staring at Ben’s bloodshot eyes. The child cried, “I don’t wanna die.”