Yesterday's Gone: Season One Part 37

Room 410 crackled with a blast of static coming from a battery operated baby monitor.

"The other one's downstairs," Ken said. "That's how we knew you were downstairs. We heard you in the hallway, and I waited with the bat, just in case."

"In case what?" Teagan asked, surprising herself with the question.

"You were one of the monsters."

Ed laughed.

"You didn't see any when you were driving up? They've been outside since yesterday," Ken asked.

"Monsters?" Ed said, "No, I can't say we saw any 'monsters' on the way in."

"No, I'm serious," Ken said, "Take a look."

Ken led them to the window, then pulled the shades aside three inches, raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes, looked outside, then handed the binoculars to Ed.

"There, in front of the building across the street."

Ed took the binoculars, adjusted the focus on top, then froze.

It took him a while to find his voice. When he did, he said, "What the h.e.l.l are those?"

"Monsters," Jade said. "They killed a girl who left the complex last night."

Teagan couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You're saying monsters killed someone?"

"Tore her to shreds," Ken said, eyes dead serious.

"Lemme see," Teagan said, joining Ed at the window.

Ed ignored her at first, not wanting to take his eyes off whatever was in his sights.

"Lemme see," Teagan pleaded.

Ed turned to her, then shook his head, "I don't think you should see this."

She grabbed the binoculars from his hands and raised them to her eyes, focused, and saw the walking nightmares for herself. She was suddenly confused, and dizzy, as if the world were sliding out from under her.

The air gained weight and pushed her to the floor.

When she came to, Teagan was in a bed, daylight bleeding through thick black curtains.

"Where am I?" she asked, head pounding. Her hands found her baby, and for a terrifying moment, she thought she couldn't feel anything inside her. Then it kicked, as if to answer her fears, and Teagan found herself crying, then cursing herself for being so emotional.

"You okay?" a voice beside her said.

Jade was lying next to her. "You fainted. But Dad said you'd be okay. I said I'd stay with you."

Jade handed her a bottle of water.

Teagan was surprisingly thirsty. And hungry. "Thank you," she said, gulping half the bottle. "Where is everyone?"

"Dad and Ken went to search the other rooms for more weapons, though I'm not sure if they'll find any."

"Why are they getting weapons?" Teagan asked.

"My dad said we're gonna need all the weapons we can find to protect ourselves."

"Yeah, that sounds like your dad," Teagan said smiling.

"What do you mean?" Jade said, face suddenly serious "Well, you know how your dad is, all that secret agent stuff." Teagan said, waiting for Jade's muscles to relax. Instead, her cheeks tightened.

"What did my dad tell you?"

Teagan was afraid she'd said too much.

What if Ed is so secret an agent that not even his own family knows what he does for a living?

Teagan was sure Ed said that his family knew what he did. Right? No, she wasn't certain. But she was mortified that she might have dropped a ball that would destroy an already fractured relationship between Ed and his daughter.

"He didn't tell me much, just that he worked for the government." Teagan considered saying he was also an ace with a gun and had taken down two men and a helicopter, but decided to keep her big mouth shut.

"Listen," Jade said, "I don't know what my dad told you, or what you think you know about him, but he's not some government agent, a spy, or cop, or whatever crazy thing he told you."

"What do you mean?" Teagan said, "He told me you two never saw each other because he was always on the road working for the government."

"On 'the road,'" Jade said, with a bitter laugh, "That's cute. I guess that's what he's calling it when he's on the run from the law, 'on the road.' My dad isn't what he says he is, or who you think he is. He's been on the run for four years for murder. The reason we didn't see each other was because he was locked in a mental inst.i.tution until he broke out a few months ago."

Teagan felt dizzy again.

TO BE CONTINUED...

EPISODE FIVE.

LUIS TORRES.

October 16 Early morning New York City "I have to find them." Brent said, staring at the thousands of bodies piled in Times Square. "I have to see for myself."

"There's too many." Luis said, "Even if your wife and son are in there, and we have no reason to think they are, we'd be here all day searching. And then we'll miss the ferry to Black Island. Plus, we've still got Comatose Joe waiting in the car."

"Go without me," Brent said, walking through rows of stacked corpses, searching for any sign of his family. "I'm staying here."

"You can't stay here, those creatures are gonna come back."

"I don't care!" Brent said, fighting tears. "Let them. I need to know."

Luis shook his head, letting out a long sigh and scanning the fog for signs of more creatures.

But it was just them and the dead... for now. Staring at the bodies, he found it curious none seemed to have suffered injury. Whoever or whatever killed these people, it probably wasn't the monsters he and Brent had encountered. For one, the creatures would have left the corpses in pieces. And he doubted the bodies would be so neatly stacked.

Whoever did the stacking, Luis was guessing it was humans. And the only people organized and with manpower enough to dispose of bodies in such an orderly manner would be the government. And if it were the government, Luis had to wonder how deeply they were involved in whatever happened. How much did they know?

If he and his group had known of the event before it happened, odds are, someone else did too. Someone on the inside. Someone prepared. He doubted the government had anything to do with whatever caused the deaths and disappearances of so many people. Even though he knew his government was capable of atrocities over the years, he doubted it would actually kill so many of its own people. Which meant they likely knew something was going to happen, maybe even what, but had no actual part in it. Nor could they prevent it.

So, they did what they could, collected the dead and organized.

Even though Luis had dreamed of this event and had known many would die, it did nothing to prepare him for the reality or the pain of seeing so many bodies. Staring at the faces of so many dead men, women, and children, many with wide-open and vacant eyes, pierced a part of his heart he'd worked most of his life to harden. Watching Brent move from stack to stack, searching for his family, dug the blade deeper.

"What are you gonna do when we don't find them?" Luis asked. "These bodies are stacked! Are we gonna start moving people, peeling them off the piles like we're looking for the TV remote in a pile of clothes in our bedroom?"

"You don't have to do anything!" Brent snapped, "Just go. I'll look."

"And what then?" Luis asked, "What will you do if you do find them? It won't bring them back, you know."

Brent stopped his search, and glared at Luis.

"Don't you want to know?" Brent asked, stepping toward Luis, eyes red. "Don't you want to know if your daughter is dead or just missing? I mean, if she's missing, then there's still hope we can find her, right? Or did you just write her off as gone and you're ready to move on?"

"I didn't write her off," Luis said calmly, letting the accusation slide beneath Brent's grief.

Brent stepped even closer to Luis, a bit too close, puzzled.

"Really? Then why haven't we been looking for her? I can't think of anything besides finding my family, yet you seem like you don't even want to look for yours."

Any other person, any other time, Luis would've knocked a clown out for talking like that to him. He could feel his nostrils flaring and heart starting to race. He slowed his breathing to counter the growing rage. But it wasn't enough to calm him completely. Finally, he gave in to his need to snap back.

"Maybe I'm not all tore up because I don't feel guilty. Because I didn't ignore my family for years, only to be filled with regret the moment they're gone. I spent time with them knowing that nothing is forever. Whether it's cancer or the end of the world, I knew someday the clock would run out. And I lived and loved like my family actually mattered to me."

Brent's eyes narrowed and he took a swing at Luis.

Luis could have easily dodged the punch completely, but moved just far enough that Brent's punch landed harmlessly on Luis's right shoulder rather than his jaw. Luis figured it was probably the first time Brent had ever thrown a punch.

"Feel better?" Luis asked, voice still somewhat calm.

Brent stared, face flush with guilt, and turned away.

"Listen, bro," Luis said, "I know you need resolution, one way or another. I get it. But at the same time, there's no way you can search through all these bodies before another pack of those uglies come hunting you down. I would stay and help if I thought it would do any good, but there's too many for us to take on by ourselves, even if we had a week."

"I have to know," Brent said, meeting Luis's eyes. "If I leave now, I'll never know for certain."

"Whether they're dead or just vanished, the fact is, they're gone for right now," Luis said. "Maybe you'll see them again on this side, or maybe in Heaven, but the only thing we have for sure is right now. And right now, there's nothing we can do to bring them back."

"Aren't you even curious to know if your little girl is here?" Brent asked.

"I've known for years this day would come. I knew I'd have to let go. It doesn't make it easier, and I wish like h.e.l.l it didn't happen, but I'm not still clinging to straws either. I'm not saying I moved on, but at the same time, I can't hope for something I know won't happen. In my dreams, she was gone. And I can't question the dreams."

Brent scanned the rows of bodies again, likely adding them in his head. While Manhattan was home to more than two million people, no more than a few thousand bodies could have been stacked in the Square, maybe as many as 100,000. But that left plenty still unaccounted for. For all Luis knew, more bodies were on the next block, or the one after that, or h.e.l.l, stuffed in buildings and heaped ceiling high in Madison Square Garden, but they couldn't search all of Manhattan. Not with those monsters scouring the city. Brent was probably realizing what Luis already knew: their best shot was to find whoever was broadcasting from Black Island and hope others had made it to safety.

"Okay," Brent said, shoulders hunched in defeat, "Let's go."

"It's gonna be okay," Luis said, even though he didn't believe it.

They arrived at the car to find Joe in worse shape than when they left.

Black veins covered his face and his skin was slick with something slightly thick and wet. His breathing was labored, and eyes still closed. Luis considered feeling for a pulse, but the dark splotches on the guy's face looked infectious. The only thing that kept Luis from putting the old man on the side of the street and leaving him there was the concern in Brent's eyes. This wasn't just Brent's maintenance man, it was the last person he knew in the world. His only connection to his past, and given how shaken Brent already was, Luis didn't want to risk pushing him over the edge by severing it.

"You okay, Joe?" Brent asked, as he climbed into the back seat.

No response from Joe.

"We need to get him help," Luis said as he got in the front seat and keyed the ignition, wanting to get to the ferry as fast as possible so Joe wouldn't puke, bleed, or die in his car. "Hopefully, they'll have someone at Black Island."

"Daddy?" Ben's voice said, again from Joe's mouth.

Luis glanced in the rearview and saw Brent's torment.

"I'm so..." Ben's voice said again, voice so weak, it seemed as if Joe could hardly form a breath much less a word.

"What?" Brent asked leaning forward in his seat to better hear Joe's murmurs.

Joe's head rose, but his eyes were still closed. "I'm so... hrmph..." the voice said again, though this time it sounded like a mixture of Ben's voice and Joe's.

"What's he saying?" Brent asked.

"Beat's the h.e.l.l outta me," Luis said, confused and just wanting the old man out of his car.

Brent leaned closer, and Joe inched forward with great effort, eyes still closed, as if he were unconscious.

"I'm so... hungry," Joe said, his voice growing.