Yesterday's Gone: Season One Part 48

Jade and Teagan exchanged glances then looked down at Ed, still out cold.

"This has to be men looking for him," Jade said "Let's just do what they say."

"What if they're not the good guys?" Teagan asked, scared.

Jade crawled to Teagan, put her hands on her shoulders, then looked her in the eyes. "Look, I know you had that dream and stuff, but these men are only here to take my dad in. They're not looking for your baby."

"How do you know that?" Teagan asked, unable to cease her quivering mouth or the tears stinging her cheeks.

"Because that's what makes the most sense," Jade said. "And in my world, the things that make the most sense, are usually the answer. Not wild conspiracy theories and secret agents. We've got a fugitive in here. They've come to get him. And given the h.e.l.l outside, I'd rather go with them, answer a few questions, and maybe be safe, than end up getting eaten by monsters."

"What do you mean fugitive?" Ken asked. "Your dad's a fugitive?"

"Not now, Ken." Jade said annoyed, then turned back to Teagan. "There's no one coming to get your baby. It doesn't make any sense and my dad should never have let you believe that."

"But we don't know," Teagan said, feeling whiney, but not caring. This was her baby they were talking about. They'd get no do-overs if they made the wrong choice.

"Even if they have come for your baby, or all of us for that matter, there's nothing we can do. We have two guns, and I'm a s.h.i.t shot. If they want to get to us, they will, and there's nothing we can do to stop them. So we've got to run with logic over fear."

Teagan cried out and Jade hugged her.

"They're not coming for you, I swear."

"On the count of ten," the loudspeaker voice called before initiating countdown.

"We're coming!" Jade yelled, annoyed, putting her gun on the ground. Ken did the same.

"Wait," Teagan said, "Maybe we should keep a gun in case we run into more of those things in the hallway."

"Good point," Ken said, picking up a pistol and slipping it into the waistband at the small of his back.

Jade knelt, kissed Ed on the cheek, then whispered something Teagan couldn't hear. Teagan looked back at the man who may, or may not have, saved her life twice. For all that had happened, she didn't want to see him come to any harm. She felt a connection to him, however tenuous, that she wasn't ready to see severed.

They stepped into the hallway. Jade shined a flashlight as they entered the stairwell and started their descent. At the ground floor, Ken paused before opening the door to the lobby, pulled the gun from his waistband, and put it in the corner of the stairwell. "Don't wanna get shot," he said.

They pushed through the door with their arms raised and were met by two men in white s.p.a.ce-age looking Hazmat suits, complete with enclosed helmets and breathing tanks. With them was a third man, in a black outfit, like a SWAT team would wear. He wore something on his face that looked like a gas mask and had his rifle aimed right at them.

"How many more are with you?" he said, voice m.u.f.fled by the mask.

"Just my dad," Jade said, "You guys shot him with darts and he's pa.s.sed out upstairs."

One of the two Hazmat-suited men shined a light on the three of them, then trained it on Ken's injury. "What happened to you?"

"I was bit," Ken said, "By one of those alien-looking things."

"We've got an infected," one of the Hazmat men said into a microphone. Suddenly, two more SWAT team men ran in with rifles aimed at Ken, Jade, and Teagan.

One of them yelled, "Outside, now!"

Teagan felt hands on her, pushing as they were rushed out into the parking lot, three guns at the back of their heads.

"Please don't shoot us," she cried.

"Shut up," one of the SWAT men said, "Keep moving."

Outside, they were met by two other SWAT men in masks along with a woman in a Hazmat suit.

"What's going on?" Jade asked.

"No questions," one of the SWAT men said. He walked up to Ken, "How long ago were you bit?"

"About 10 minutes ago," Ken said. "Why?"

"Were any of the rest of you bitten?" the woman in the Hazmat suit asked, waving some sort of light wand over them.

"No," Jade said, "just Ken. What's going on? What are those things?"

"How about the man upstairs? Was he bit?" one of the SWAT men asked.

"I don't think so, was he Ken?" Jade asked.

"No, just me," Ken said. "What's going on? What did you all mean infected? Am I infected?"

"Get these two in the van," one of the SWAT men said to the woman.

"Yes, Sergeant," she said, and turned to Teagan and Jade, "I need you to come with me, please."

"Wait a second," Jade said. "What are you gonna do with Ken? With my dad?"

"Please," the woman said, her voice kind, but firm, "just come with me. We can't stay here long."

"What's going on?" Ken said, pushing past one of the SWAT team and trying to join Jade and Teagan. "You're not taking them anywhere."

"On your knees!" one of the SWAT team yelled at Ken, rifle aimed.

Ken's eyes were wide, face panicked, as he stepped back, "Please, just tell me what's going on? Where are you taking them?"

"On your knees!" the same SWAT man yelled out.

"f.u.c.k you!" Ken spit out.

The man fired the rifle once, straight into Ken's head, and he dropped like a rag doll.

Teagan and Jade screamed as the woman pushed them toward the open doors of the waiting van. To see Ken shot right in front of them like that was nothing short of surreal. That they would kill someone so easily meant that now anything was possible. Including government soldiers who kidnap you for your baby.

"f.u.c.kers!" Jade cried, trying to break free, and run to Ken.

Another SWAT man swung a nightstick into the small of Jade's back and she fell to the ground in a heap. Teagan's head was spinning in indecision. She wanted to help Jade, but hands were on her, pushing her, and she couldn't risk the baby. Everything was happening so fast.

Jade struggled to get up and the SWAT man hit her again, this time in the ribs, and she screamed. Teagan was being pulled farther away, toward the open back of a separate black van. The world spun as Teagan's feet threatened to betray her and cause her to stumble to the ground; she reached out for support, someone to hold.

She fell into the woman in the Hazmat suit, looked up at the woman's face, cold, sterile behind the gla.s.s dome.

"Please, don't hurt my baby," she said, before pa.s.sing out.

BORICIO WOLFE.

October 19 3:15 a.m.

Somewhere in Alabama "So, either of you scrawny f.u.c.kers get your d.i.c.ks wet yet?"

Boricio tore down the darkened dead highway in the armored truck, trying not to notice the nothing seeping in from everywhere while doing his best to keep himself entertained. Entertaining himself wasn't easy with two pa.s.sengers who had yet to unzip their flies and give life a decent pounding.

Silence from the back seat.

"What, no stories? Don't tell me I'm trying to make an all-mighty pyramid of tip-top f.u.c.kers with two b.i.t.c.hes at the bottom. I don't give a fat f.u.c.k with fairy wings if you went dipping your fingers into Mayonnaise Mary every other Monday, or the best you ever had was emptying your p.e.c.k.e.r into your sister's dirty panties; I want a story. Now," he said, turning to the boys in the back, "who wants to go first?"

Before either could answer, Boricio said. "Never mind. f.u.c.k you both. I'll go first. You two think of your stories, then conjure ways to make 'em not suck while I tell mine."

Boricio turned his eyes back to the road and began telling his tale.

"I was 13, and no, I ain't embarra.s.sed to admit it took me that long before I was moving out of Palmdale." Boricio cackled and slapped the wheel. "I was at my cousin Charlie's for a kegger. And yeah," Boricio caught Charlie's eyes in the rearview, "his name was Charlie too, except he wasn't no f.a.ggot. He liked p.u.s.s.y, and loved to talk about it. He was my mom's oldest brother's kid, a real a.s.shole and about as sharp as a f.u.c.king marble, but he hated my old man and looked out for me, which was plenty more than just about anyone else did or wanted to do at that point in my life. So I was with him one weekend, like I was a few times a year, and he was having one of his Big Gulp-sized soirees at the apartment. It was packed with people. To this day I don't know what they were smoking in there; I was only allowed a little because Chuck said it was expensive. But one hit was all I needed to f.u.c.k. Me. Up. BAM! I was out like unpaid electric."

Boricio turned to the backseat. "Y'all listening back there? I'm dishing some primetime entertainment; it'd be nice to see ya' on the edges of your seats."

Adam and Charlie laughed, then they both slid forward in their seats.

"Much better!" Boricio slapped the empty pa.s.senger seat. "So I woke up who knows how in the f.u.c.k much longer later, with a mountain of empty cups all around me and a bag of hammers pounding in my head, and the speakers Chuck ripped off from City of Strings blaring full blast and making it worse. They were playing....ah, what's that song, what's that song..." Boricio snapped his fingers then looked to the back seat. "Ah, like you'd f.u.c.king know. This was way before your mamas were trying to decide whether they should swallow you or take you in their honeypot." He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Groove Is in the Heart!" he said.

He turned to the back seat. "You ever hear that one?"

Both boys shook their heads.

"Well, believe you me," Boricio said, "it's a ripe f.u.c.king oldie. Anyway," he went on, "the inside of my head was practically bleeding, and for some reason I didn't have no shirt on. Whatever I smoked had f.u.c.ked up my vision because I couldn't see s.h.i.t in front of me. I stumbled into the bathroom and puked up everything I had in me. Soon as I was empty, I stumbled back into the bedroom and fell asleep. When I woke up, it felt like just a few minutes later, and I could hear the sound of my zipper coming down. I tried to look up, but couldn't because my head was swimming. Before I knew it, some b.i.t.c.h's mouth was all on me. I don't know how many times I'd put mayo on my own knuckle sandwich before that, but there it was, s.h.i.t happening to me in 3D. I had an angle on my dangle in no time. I took off her shirt and started kissing her like I saw people do in the movies. She tasted like ash or a.s.shole, but I didn't care - I was about to f.u.c.k."

"So what happened?" Charlie was practically in the front seat, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. Adam's mouth was open and eyes wide.

"Well, she went down and put my entire meatsicle in her mouth. I couldn't believe that s.h.i.t neither; figured I'd wake up any second with my sheets all wet, but sure enough, she just kept on painting the fence, while I lay on the bed squealing like a piglet. Finally she said, 'You wanna c.u.m inside me?' I said, 'h.e.l.l yeah!', then she sat on me. But that was that; I was barely inside before the baby batter was leaking back out."

"That was it?" Adam said.

"Yeah... except the round of applause. Turned out, Chuck and all his f.u.c.king ape friends were in the room watching, maybe 10 of them, and I never even noticed."

Charlie and Adam started laughing.

"Did I tell you it was some f.u.c.kin' story, or what? Okay, Adam, your turn." Boricio turned to Adam. "When's the first time you chopped down the cherry tree?"

Adam looked embarra.s.sed, but knew there was no getting out of the story. "I was 16 and it happened at the park. I've never been allowed to have people over to the house, but there was a girl I really liked named Rebecca, and we were in the same group for our soph.o.m.ore year history project. I can't really call her my girlfriend because we never really went out or anything, but I knew she liked me and I liked her. One day school let out early and my parents didn't know, so we went to the park to work on our project together. She asked if I wanted to 'do it,' but I didn't think it was the best idea because I always felt like my dad was right behind me even when he was nowhere around. But as soon as she said it, I was hard as a rock. Then she started blowing in my ear and rubbing my pants. Even though I was scared, I finally stammered, 'okay' and we went across the street and climbed into the back of her old Corolla. It only lasted a few minutes. And it was definitely better than all the 'practice' I'd done at home, but not at all like I thought it would feel. She told me I'd done great. I didn't want to go home, so we sat in the backseat talking for a couple of hours. I ended up getting home later than usual and my dad walloped the s.h.i.t out of me."

"Least you pounded some p.u.s.s.y before your dad pounded you!" Boricio said.

"Yeah," Adam nodded, though he looked far away.

"So?" Boricio said, "You bang her again?"

Adam shook his head. "No. The only other time we were alone outside of cla.s.s, we were standing in front of the school, both waiting for a ride. My dad picked me up. When I got in the car he called her a wh.o.r.e and said anyone who'd let me f.u.c.k them had to be a bigger loser than me."

Boricio shook his head, then looked in the mirror at Charlie. "How about you, Charlie Brown? When's the first time you got to b.u.mpin' uglies?"

"I'm still a virgin," Charlie said, slightly red-faced. "I used to really like this one girl named Josie, but ever since she started hanging out with Shayanne and the rest of the b.i.t.c.h Clique, she started giving me the ugly eye. But f.u.c.k her, anyway. Like Adam, my step-dad rarely let me leave the house without a detailed explanation, so I didn't have much of an opportunity."

Boricio erupted into laughter. "Yeah," he said, "that's it. Couldn't be cuz you're gangly as a f.u.c.king Gomer and it looks like you wash your face in fried chicken!" Boricio tilted the rearview and met Charlie's eyes. "You know I'm just f.u.c.king with you, right? This is how Team Boricio bonds, b.i.t.c.h! Now, since you ain't gonna tell any tall tales about t.w.a.t, why don't you spin us a story or two about what a f.u.c.ker your old man is."

"Nah," Charlie said. "n.o.body wants to hear that."

"Yeah we do," Adam said, probably wanting to change the conversation to something less embarra.s.sing for both of them.

"Bob wasn't nearly as bad as Adam's dad; mostly he just liked to humiliate me as often as he could. Called me Nancy, Mary, even Melinda - any girl's name he could think of, really. Anything he could do to bring me down a peg while elevating himself. When he wasn't calling me a girl, he'd call me gay, f.a.ggot, and other s.h.i.t like that."

"And your mom let him talk like that to you?" Boricio asked.

"No, he usually wore his nicest face around my mom. She knew he gave me a hard time, but not the extent of it. And to make matters worse, he'd convinced her it was for my own good. Like he was doing me some kind of f.u.c.king favor! And though he didn't really smack me around, except for a few occasions, there was this one time he scared the s.h.i.t out of me. My mom was out with her girlfriend Colleen, all day for a mid-life makeover as Colleen called it, and Bob told me that if I didn't scrub the trash cans inside-out, which he'd promised my mom he would do while she was gone, he would take me out to the woods and do what he should have done the day he met my mom. He said 'ain't n.o.body gonna hear you scream out there,' so yeah, he never put my hand in a garbage disposal or nothing, but he was a Grade-A f.u.c.ker for sure."

Charlie collapsed to the back of his seat.

"Funny thing is, I think I would've been able to tolerate Bob if he hadn't been such an a.s.shole to my mom. But he treated her like total s.h.i.t, always tearing her down and making her feel small. She used to be fun, before Bob. You can call me a p.u.s.s.y, but she was probably my best friend before she met him. And over time, he sucked her dry, took her joy and turned it into fear and emotional slavery."

The truck was quiet for nearly a full minute, when Boricio glanced in the rearview and said, "p.u.s.s.y."

Charlie closed his eyes and then burst into laughter. Adam joined and the three of them laughed for about half a mile. Ahead, was a gas station. Lights out, n.o.body home. Boricio parked, then turned back to Charlie and Adam.

"Most of the world's f.u.c.kers are dead," he said. "But, Charlie, it looks like you got yourself a raw deal with your personal f.u.c.ker making it through the apocalypse and then taking your b.i.t.c.h on top of it. How would you feel about the three of us gentlemen paying a friendly visit to dear Ole' Bob?"