Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER)

by Platt, Sean

  He despised politics, but Brent had plenty of experience playing the game as a reporter. Even though he worked features, politics had a way of invading nearly every section of the paper, from the front page to the sports page. People were political animals by nature. Brent hoped his skills would still be useful when the bullets from Ed’s one-gun-fits-all solution thudded into a brick wall.

  Brent was easing tensions when The Prophet slowed the car to a crawl, and stared into the darkness ahead.

  “What’s going on?” Rojas asked.

  Brent looked up to see why they had stopped, his jaw nearly dropping at the shadows barely illuminated by the wagon’s high beams.

  The highway was blocked with tall dark towers of stacked cars, trucks, and debris, soaring 10 stories and higher, vaguely visible in the moonlight.

  “Holy shit!” Lisa said, leaning forward and shaking her head. Then, “What in the hell? This wasn’t here the other day.”

  The Prophet stared for an eternity, as if he were trying to wrap his head around who or what might have made the impossible possible. Something in his expression seemed to indicate that he didn’t think it was divine work.

  “I saw the same thing in New York,” Brent said. “Except with bodies.”

  “Bodies?” Rojas asked.

  “Yes, thousands, maybe tens of thousands, all stacked in Times Square.”

  “I wonder if those were the sinners or the saints,” Lisa said, glaring at The Prophet.

  “Where do we go now?” The Prophet asked, still preoccupied with the stacks of cars, still visibly shaken, maybe all the way to his core.

  “Turn the car around,” Lisa said. “We’ll get off at the last exit and find another way.”

  The Prophet put the car in reverse just as the engine died. The car began to roll backward and he slammed his foot down on the brake pedal, jerking the car to a halt.

  “What the hell?” Lisa said, leaning over. “Out of gas?!”

  The Prophet leaned forward and stared at the gas gauge, seemingly as surprised by the red as he was by the stacks in the road. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve had to drive myself anywhere.”

  “Great!” Lisa said, opening the door and stepping from the car. Everyone followed, Brent growing more certain that Brent would make a break for it soon. Rojas was tasked with keeping an eye on him, but the Black Mountain Guardsman was distracted, if not outright spooked, with everything else happening. Brent watched Ed for any brewing signs for action. If he were going to make a move, it seemed like the right time.

  But Ed was quiet, perhaps biding his time.

  “Shit,” Lisa said, looking down from the overpass railing to the road below, or the crumbles that were left of it. Though dark, they could see enough detail to know that the landscape below was littered with jagged crags of debris as far as the eye could see, as if an earthquake had split the road into thousands of chunks of asphalt and earth.

  “I think there’s aliens down there,” Billy said, his first words since they’d left the shopping center.

  Brent didn’t see any signs of life, however.

  “We have two options,” Lisa said. “We can go down there and try not to break our asses. Or we go through this pile and hope that the towers don’t fall on us. Anyone have an opinion?”

  Brent was surprised she was asking anyone for input, but the question seemed mostly directed at Ed. Perhaps Ed had earned a bit more respect back at the grocery store than she was verbally willing to acknowledge. Brent stared at the road ahead of them. His eyes had adjusted a bit to the darkness, so he could see that the towers of cars sprawled for a few hundred yards or so, with just enough room to walk, or maybe drive a motorcycle through. It reminded him of the vehicle piles they’d found as he and Luis were trying to make their way to Times Square, except those cars were only jammed side-by-side, not on top of one another too.

  What the hell could have done this? Not the aliens?

  They can’t even climb; surely they’re not stacking cars like toys.

  Ed’s eyes narrowed as he looked down from the overpass and then back toward Lisa. “I don’t like the looks of anything down there.” He shook his head, then turned to the stacks. “I say we head straight through the maze and hope there’s a working vehicle on the other side of this maze.”

  Lisa stared at him as if trying to read what else he may have been thinking. Maybe she was wondering if he were looking for an exit too. Hell, maybe she didn’t even have it in her anymore to care. Perhaps with everything else going on, a prisoner was the last thing she had the time, or the ability, to look after. Brent thought about Mr. Ebers, his eleventh grade shop teacher who would often turn the other cheek, pretending not to notice as several of his students fled his classroom when his back was turned. Mr. Ebers didn’t seem to have the energy to care anymore, figuring his life was easier if he just let the people who didn’t want to be there, leave. Lisa’s life would be far easier if she didn’t have to deal with Ed.

  But perhaps Ed had proven himself so valuable an ally against the aliens that Lisa couldn’t stand to lose him, and therefore wasn’t about to look the other way — for even a moment.

  “Alright,” Rojas said, gesturing with his rifle. “Let’s move forward.”

  As they headed into the maze, The Prophet stood beside the stalled station wagon, unmoving.

  “You coming?” Lisa asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said after a long moment spent slowly shaking his head.

  “We’ll be fine,” Lisa said. “Bring your air horn.”

  Something flashed inside the Prophet’s eyes, and for a moment, Brent could have sworn the man’s face went blurry for a split second. Brent blinked and rubbed his eyes. The Prophet was looking at him. “You okay?” he asked as he reached into the car and grabbed the air horn.

  “Yeah,” Brent said, not wanting to meet the man’s eyes.

  They headed into the maze together, with the old man walking in the middle, and Brent feeling more uneasy than he had since their excursion into the city.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 4 — (Other) Will Bishop

  Other Earth

  Paddock Island, New York

  Saturday July 9, 2011

  night

  THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE EVENT…

  Will waited in a chair next to Luca’s bed waiting for his son to return from the bathroom down the hall.

  Will had decided to test Luca at home from now on. Will tried his best to mask his emotions — both the excitement of discovery and the fear of the unknown — never wanting the boy to be afraid, or get too deep inside a mind where getting lost was too easy to do.

  At least they weren’t in the lab. Level Seven put Luca on edge, a feeling that Will could understand given the sheer number of people who were following Luca’s progress. Luca was the first human subject of an alien technology that their best scientists barely understood. Yes, the boy had healed completely, but he’d come out of his coma enhanced, a possibility easily predicted from the animal testing. But Luca’s abilities had grown beyond simple enhancement of latent human abilities.

  Luca was already doing things Will, whose proximity and early exposure to the vials had changed him, had never done, but now he was doing stuff Will didn’t even think was possible.

  Luca told Will that he had been going to another world, like theirs but different. A world where his mom and dad and sister were all still sleeping in their own beds and living the life fate had stolen from Luca.

  Of course, that was a scenario any child in Luca’s position would want to create. So while Will believed Luca was seeing what he said he saw, he had a rather large question about whether Luca was the architect of that world.

  Teleporting to another dimension — if that was in fact was what Luca had done — was beyond the scope of anything they were prepared for. Will was torn between his commitment to science — he couldn’t allow future testing on others without divulging this information — and protecting his
son. Once Black Island Research found out about Luca’s new side effect, he would go from child to lab rat. And even though Will was valuable to Black Island Research, particularly in dealing with the vials he’d discovered so many decades ago, not even he could protect Luca from that fate once the truth was out.

  Could Luca really be visiting a parallel world?

  If true, the possibilities were enough to cripple his mind. Not counting a parallel world, two possibilities existed: Either Luca was imagining the other world entirely, or he was somehow traveling back in time.

  Will didn’t want to consider time travel. That rabbit hole was just too goddamn deep, worse than string theory and the infinite worlds that went with it.

  Believing Luca was manufacturing it all was easier for Will, especially since Luca’s mind was able to bleed color onto empty canvas. More than he, or anyone at the island, had ever seen. But things that had happened over the last several weeks made Will wonder if the impossible could be true.

  He was slowly starting to believe that it probably was.

  It started with the subtle but obvious changes in Luca. Level Seven was pulling too much from him, drawing on too much of his power. Luca’s mind seemed stressed, yet when he returned from what he said was the other world, he seemed refreshed, almost like a new boy. Will wondered where he was getting his energy, and if he were somehow pulling from the mind of his doppelgänger to make himself stronger.

  Will theorized that if Luca could truly establish tangible interaction on another world, maybe he could return with evidence. It was a crazy long shot and utterly ridiculous, but wasn’t that always the way — today’s science was yesterday’s magic? Luca certainly seemed to be waving a wand.

  “Are you ready?”

  Luca nodded as he returned to his bed, wiping water from his lips with the back of his hand. He sat on the edge of his bed, legs folded.

  “And I can bring back anything I want?”

  Will said, “Whatever you want, Luca. I think the more special it is to you, the more likely you’ll be able to bring it back with you. But don’t tell me. Let it be a surprise.”

  Will didn’t really believe that it mattered what Luca brought back — the idea was to keep Luca from planting any thoughts in Will’s mind to taint the results.

  Luca said, “Okay, Dad. Should I go now?”

  Will swallowed. Luca had vanished twice in his sleep, including the first time a few weeks ago, when Will saw him appear before him on his return trip. Both times had been during the boy’s sleep and Luca had been unable to stop himself from leaving.

  Last week, Will was able to get Luca to do it again, that time in a controlled setting while the boy was awake.

  An uneasy knot returned to his throat, and he hoped he wasn’t putting Luca in harm’s way. At the same time, he had to figure out what was happening and help Luca learn to control it — if that were even possible. The last thing they needed was for Luca to teleport in the middle of a crowded room and draw attention to himself. He’d be in a room on Level Seven within an hour, and there would be nothing Will could do to keep it from his bosses.

  They would learn to control it together. But for now Will had to know where Luca was going. A parallel world? Back in time? Or was he even really going somewhere else? Perhaps, Will speculated, Luca was removing himself temporarily from their dimension but not really going anywhere, outside of a mental trip.

  Will told himself that this test was best for Luca and said, “Yes. Go now. I’ll be waiting right here.”

  “Okay,” Luca said, squeezing his eyes shut. He went blurry for a moment, as if two images of Luca’s had merged into one and were trying to separate from one another before both of them vanished.

  Will stared, stunned, and put his hand on the bed where Luca had been.

  Will waited through 20 minutes of silence until Luca finally appeared, standing in the bedroom, cradling a framed photograph of his family. As Luca held it out, Will could clearly see this the boy in the photo was the same age as Luca now — an impossibility if he’d time traveled. That Luca would have been six years old or younger, not eight.

  Will gasped. “Oh my,” he said, nearly leaping from his chair. “This can’t be.”

  Luca looked down at the photo and a tear splashed onto the glass. Will dropped to his knees beside the boy. “It’s okay, buddy,” he said. “You don’t have to be sad.” Will ignored the impossible to focus on the reality of Luca’s obvious pain.

  “But they’re all still alive,” he said. “All of them, even Anna.”

  “I know,” Will said, patting Luca’s head.

  “I miss them so much.” He started to sob.

  “I know,” Will repeated, now rocking Luca back and forth.

  “I don’t want to go back there,” he sobbed into Will’s shirt. “Ever again. It hurts too much.”

  “Okay, you don’t have to go back,” Will said, scooping Luca up in his arms and carrying him to the living room where they plopped down on the long L-shaped black sofa. Will wanted to ask him questions about the trip, what he’d seen, but Will had the only answer he needed at the moment — the framed photo that Will sat on the floor, just out of Luca’s sight.

  “Goodness,” Will said, rubbing his aching lower back. “We’re both getting too old, too fast.” He smiled. “Difference is, you’re getting bigger and I’m getting smaller, or at least a whole lot weaker.” He laughed. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to keep that up! So you better enjoy it while it lasts.”

  The maybe of a smile flickered on Luca’s face, the first chink in the armor of his sorrow.

  Will said, “Wanna watch TV? We can watch whatever you want — something you’ve never seen before, or something saved on the DVR.”

  “Something I’ve never seen before!”

  “Okay,” Will said, heading to the DVD cabinet, where he opened his extensive selection and moved his finger along the bottom row of flicks that Luca had never seen before. The bottom row was the most often studied and requested. Will chose from the row wisely, a masterpiece at a time.

  “Indiana Jones, Indiana Jones!” Luca said, a smile threatening to take over his face.

  “I’m not sure.” Will frowned and shook his head. “It’s kind of violent.”

  “I’m old enough.”

  Will said, “Oh, all right, I’m easy to convince tonight. Let’s start with the first one. The second is too dark to watch without Boricio on the other side of the safety sandwich. Maybe he’ll come over for movie night and we’ll watch it then.”

  “Yay!” Luca said.

  Will smiled, then slipped the disc into the player and pressed play.

  Will went to the kitchen to make popcorn, dumped the bag into a bowl for the two of them to share, and was digging in beside Luca before the boulder was rolling toward Indy.

  Luca loved Raiders of the Lost Ark, just as he loved The Temple of Doom, which they watched even though Boricio wasn’t there to be the other side of the safety sandwich. He also seemed to love what he saw of The Last Crusade, but that wasn’t much, since Luca was asleep before Indiana even got to Vienna.

  Will brushed the hair from his son’s face, petting his head as Harrison Ford outsmarted the Nazis, Will smiling through every one of Sean Connery’s one liners and Luca’s long bouts of snoring. He wondered what Luca was dreaming almost the entire time, but wasn’t willing to step inside his mind as an intruder. Finally, Indy chose life over immortality and the credits started to roll. Will pulled Luca into his arms, then stood from the couch and carried him to his room and tucked him into bed.

  It was almost morning outside, and Will was pretty sure he’d regret his decision to stay up so late.

  Ah, what the hell, it’s Sunday. I’ll take a nap.

  Will was halfway to the door when Luca turned from the wall, clutched his pillow tightly to his chest, and mumbled, “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you too,” Will said, closing the door quietly behind him,
feeling bad for hoping that Luca was speaking to him instead the father still alive in his dreams.

  Will pissed, brushed his teeth, and then went to his room and climbed into bed with his iPad, figuring he’d run through his email until his eyes were too tired to stay awake any longer.

  Fourteen emails, and two were from Barry, a guy he had met at The Red Herring, an indie bookstore in New York, two months earlier. They’d gone out just once, but the spark wasn’t there. Will had tried to let him down easy, but Barry wasn’t getting the hint, or figured he’d go with the persistent approach.

  Will had liked Barry well enough, but even if Will wanted a relationship — which he wasn’t even sure he did — he didn’t have the time. Will’s responsibilities lay firmly with his research, and with Luca. Reading Barry’s first email made Will wonder if he’d made a mistake in shutting others out. Staring at Barry’s second email, and all the kind things he’d said, made Will feel lonely, like he was missing out on a life he should’ve had.

  There was a time — decades ago — when Will thought he would settle down, find the right guy and settle down. But that time had passed. He had never met the right guy, then life and circumstance conspired to keep him on life’s treadmill, from his time in the Air Force and the Alaskan discovery which changed everything, to Boricio, to his work at Black Island with the Remedy Project, and now Luca.

  Will wasn’t incapable of a relationship. He’d had several, with men and women, though ironically his best relationship had been with a woman, back when he dated women to douse his internal doubt.

  Sissy Braddock was a social worker, as haunted by her work as Will was by his. They dated for nine months, and nearly moved in together. Sissy introduced Will to Boricio, an nine-year-old boy who had sat front row for more suffering than any child Will had ever known. Of course, Will hadn’t known too many, but Sissy agreed.