“Thank you, Dr. Seuss,” Desmond said.
The trio said good night. Mary returned to her room and tucked Paola in for the night before slipping beneath the stiff sheets of her hard bed, where she tossed and turned for hours, thinking about everything from Desmond to escape.
Everything felt wretched, and none of it right. They were all in grave danger if they left. She knew it like she knew that water was wet. Yet as certain as she was, she had no idea what to do. How long could they live at The Sanctuary before the cult came to punish one of them for some imagined sin?
And then there was the guilt, lying in bed with a dull ache between her legs, wanting nothing more than to have Desmond fill it. They’d not managed to sneak off a single time together, and as sad as it was to admit, they were both afraid of what would happen if they were caught. Mary was too goddamn old to feel like she was in high school, and she shouldn't have to bury her needs. She was wet and hungry, laying face down, filled with guilt for thinking about Desmond inside her, even though young Scott, barely old enough to scrape a razor on his face, would be six feet under in just a few hours.
Mary felt a chill imagining The Prophet’s sermon, talking about how Scott could finally feel the Glory of strolling through the Gates to meet the Good Lord, after “bravely fighting off the evils of the approaching Demons” in his few final minutes.
When she finally fell asleep, Desmond disappeared, her mind filled by Ryan instead. He was lying still, as a young black boy and an old black man in a wheelchair hovered above, wiping a cloth across his face. He slowly opened his eyes to the bright light pouring in from the open windows. “He’s awake, Gramps!” the boy said.
Ryan looked like he could barely move. “I thought you was never gonna wake,” the old man said.
“What happened?” Ryan said, barely coherent.
The old man said he was safe and that the monsters were gone. Ryan was confused, asking questions and barely comprehending the answers. They hydrated him with water and told him again that he was safe, said he’d been out for five days after the monsters had bitten him. His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing collapsed. His head fell back against the pillow.
That’s when he saw Mary.
Ryan said. “Is that really you? I’ve been searching for you everywhere”
“You have?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you and Paola for months.”
Something swam inside Mary’s head, telling her she’d been in a similar spot many times before. “Is this real?” she asked. “Are you really still alive? I know I’m dreaming, but are you dreaming, too?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said. Ryan smiled the same smile that had brought her to her knees more times than she could count. He met her eyes. “Are you and Paola really alive? I was almost out of hope.”
“We are,” Mary said. And though she didn’t know why she said it, or even where it came from, she added, “Look for the broken cross. You’ll know it when you see the stone walls. We need you to get here before the monsters attack.”
Ryan turned to dust before she wandered through another series of dreams, not one of which she later remembered. When she woke the next morning, she had thoughts of Ryan at the front of her mind, like she often did, but remember anything beyond that he’d been in her dreams.
She was awake for less than a minute when a queasy feeling rolled through her belly again, and sent her racing to the toilet. She made it just in time, as she vomited mostly fluids into the toilet.
Mary had felt that same feeling once before, 13 years earlier. The last time she had wanted dill pickles and green olives for 10 weeks straight.
There was life growing inside her, whether The Prophet would like it or not
* * * *
LUCA HARDING: PART 2
Kingsland, Alabama
The Sanctuary
March 24
10:29 p.m.
Luca stared out the window at The Box of Shame, thinking about Rebecca and feeling the empty inside him that reminded him too much of the Terrible Scary. Scott had been killed by the monsters today, or the Demons, as everyone here called them, so Luca was alone in the room, trying not to feel sad. But it wasn’t working.
He washed his face, brushed his teeth, missed his family, then got back into bed with his face to the wall. He lay like that for 15 minutes, before he couldn't stand to stare at the flickering shadows of tree branches on his wall any longer. He flipped to his other side so he could stare out the window at The Box of Shame, standing alone beneath the moonlight, illuminated by a thin shaft of silver raining from the sky like a spotlight on the girl’s sadness.
I’m sorry you got put inside there, Luca thought. It wasn’t fair.
Luca had become used to the voices in his head, but until earlier that day, he wasn’t used to people answering back. But there was no mistaking the voice in his head this time. Rebecca said, “Are you really there?”
Luca thought, “Yes, I’m upstairs in my room. I’m looking at the box right now, and I can feel that you’re sad. Are you scared?”
“Yes,” Rebecca thought. “It’s really cold in here, and I’m hungry and lonely and I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I heard bad stuff happened today. Is it true that someone died?”
“Some of the men went out on a run and were attacked by monsters. Scott died. So did Eli. They are going to have a funeral for both of them tomorrow.”
“Oh my God,” Rebecca thought. “Scott was your friend, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Luca thought.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Luca said. “For Eli. Did you know him well?”
“Yeah,” she said, quiet for a full minute.
“You’re wondering what would happen if the monsters came inside The Sanctuary, aren’t you?” Luca thought. “You’re wondering if you would be safe, or if everyone would run and leave you behind?”
Luca could feel Rebecca nodding.
“I’m so cold. I keep wondering what’s going to happen to me in here. I’m afraid it’s going to be something really bad. Even if the monsters don’t get me, I’ll starve to death because no one will be here to put bread through the window.”
“I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet,” Luca thought, “But I’m going to sleep now, and that’s where I do all my best thinking. It’s where I meet all the voices who tell me everything I need to know.”
“Who are they? What do they say?”
“I dunno who they are. They say all sorts of things,” Luca thought.
“How do you know they’re telling the truth?”
“Because I’m sleeping. The voices always tell the truth when I’m sleeping. I think because over there, they don’t know how to lie. That’s why I get more confused in the daytime sometimes than I do when I’m sleeping. When I’m sleeping, it’s only the voices talking. In the daytime, I can hear all the other people too. It’s too much; I can’t hear the voices that aren’t people.”
“Huh?” Rebecca said.
“It’ll make sense soon,” Luca said. “Are you still cold?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I’ve got an idea,” Luca said, and closed his eyes, imagining himself floating out of his body. He floated over his bed, looking down at himself, this older version of him that still seemed so different than how he visualized himself.
He looked outside the window, floated toward it, and dissolved through the wall.
It worked!
“What?” Rebecca asked.
“Hold on.”
Luca floated out into the night air; he could feel its coldness on his skin. He looked above the house and saw the guard sitting in the box on top of the roof. The man was smoking a cigarette, starting at and through Luca’s ghost-self.
“He can’t see me.”
“Who can’t see you?” Rebecca asked.
“The gu
ard. He can’t see me.”
“What are you doing? Are you outside?”
“I’m here.”
“Where? I can’t see you.”
“Close your eyes.”
Suddenly, Rebecca appeared, or a ghost-version of her, coming through the box and floating above it, looking around wide-eyed. Her bald head had small patches where Brother Rei hadn’t gotten all the hair. She looked sickly, like those kids in the sad commercials Luca always saw on TV, and it made him sad for her.
“What did you do?” she asked, using her mouth instead of her mind. Luca turned to see if the guard had heard her. He hadn’t.
“I don’t know,” he said, “This is the first time I’ve ever done this.”
“Can he see us? Is this real?”
“I don’t think he can see us,” Luca said. “And I’m not sure if this is real, or that it matters.”
“Take my hand; I want to show you something,” he said.
Rebecca reached out and as their hands touched, a spark shot between their fingers. She pulled back, but only for a second before reaching out again.
Luca closed his hand around hers. Her hand was ice cold. He thought warm thoughts, and the girl smiled, feeling the heat.
“How?” she asked, looking down at her hand, then back up at him.
“Watch this,” he said, pulling her up into the sky, both of them floating over the trees, and then even higher.
She pulled herself closer to him, as if she might fall if he let go.
Luca felt her coldness thaw against his chest, and he felt happy.
“Can we fall?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Let’s go somewhere.”
“Where?” she asked, looking at him,confused.
“There,” he said, pointing to a nearby mountaintop, which glowed in a weird orange light.
They floated fast through the falling snow. Below them, in the middle of all the snow, was a circle of greenery and vibrant flowers, a place untouched by the winter. And in that grass, a wooden swing set with red seats, even nicer than the one he’d sat on with Paola.
They landed softly and he let go of her, though reluctantly. They were surrounded by thousands of light bugs, which kept a respectable distance away from them, as if solely there to provide light for them.
“What is this?” she asked, walking in a circle around the swing set, staring at it as if it were made of magical candy. She looked at the light bugs with a smile that lit up her face.
“A swing,” Luca said, with a smile.
“No, I mean this place,” she said with a smile. “Is this real?”
“Are you warm?” he asked, taking a seat.
“Yes,” she said.
“That’s all that matters then,” he said, kicking his feet out and setting the swing into motion. The swing’s chains squeaked and the set moved slightly up and down with each motion. Rebecca took the opposite seat and kicked her feet out too with a big laugh.
“This is so weird!” she said. “You did this, all of this, didn’t you?”
“I dunno,” Luca said, not wanting to call attention to the things that made him different. “Let’s just swing.”
**
Luca wasn’t sure how long they’d been swinging, but it seemed like a good while. She told him about her sister, Alexis, and how her mother hadn’t always been so mean, or scared.
Luca talked about his family, Will, and a lot about Dog Vader. He got sad talking about Dog Vader, so he changed the subject to the rest of his friends.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Rebecca asked of Paola. “She’s soooo pretty.”
“No,” Luca said, feeling weird talking about Paola with another girl. Luca looked up at the sky, noting how the stars looked a bit different than usual, though he wasn’t sure how. Perhaps he had dreamed them into being, as well.
Looking at Rebecca, as she told her story, Luca felt incredibly sad for her. She’d been through so much, and he wanted to make her happy. But what could he do? If he tried to get her out of the box, they people would surely further punish her, and him. He tried to remember how his dad made his mom happy, and then an idea came to him.
“Hold on a second,” he said, hopping off the swing.
He walked past the light bugs and into the snow, towards the trees which surrounded them, and thought a rose bush into being. The bush sprouted from the snow, pushing up, and growing within seconds, sprouting perfectly red flowers.
He picked one and then thought the thorns away, and they were gone.
He walked back to the swing holding the flower, and outstretched his hand, “Here. I know it’s not much, but at least you can be happy here. For now.”
She hopped off the swing, and stared at the flower, tears in her eyes, a smile on her face. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! Nobody has ever given me flowers before.”
They stood awkwardly, like two young teens who didn’t know what to do or say next. He wondered if he should hug her, when she leaned forward and hugged him.
Her hug was warm and felt so good and so real, he never wanted the moment to end.
Luca felt butterflies stirring in his belly, and giddy.
Suddenly, his arms were empty.
Luca opened his eyes and she was gone.
“Rebecca?”
She didn’t respond.
The light bugs scattered all at once, looking like a million candles flying apart and flickering out, casting the world into darkness.
Snow began to fall down upon the protected haven and cover the ground with increasing speed as if making up for lost time.
The swings vanished.
Someone was watching him.
At first, Luca couldn't tell who it was, but he saw a shadow in the snow, about 20 feet away. Luca had to get closer and closer, until he could almost smell him – the man from a few nights before. The Dark Man; the Man in the Middle, standing behind the rose bush.
The Man in the Middle should have scared him. Luca was pretty sure he was born inside of the Terrible Scary. But for the first time, Luca wasn’t really afraid at all.
The Man in the Middle was wearing all black – pants, shirt, and a big long coat like he’d seen cowboys wearing on TV. He was holding something in his black gloved hands, but it wasn’t until Luca was standing a few feet away that he could see what it was – a large red rose, but different than the one he had picked for Rebecca, which was now gone, with her.
The rose looked like it had a million petals, and its deep color looked like blood against all the white of the surrounding snow. When Luca was only a few feet away, he could hear The Man in the Middle saying, “She loves me; she loves me not,” as he pulled petals from the bud, then released them to the wind where they fluttered slowly into the flurry, then floated to the carpeted snow like droplets of blood.
“It’s you,” The Man in the Middle said.
“Do you have a rose for me?” Luca said, even though the question made no sense to him, like one of those things that happened in dreams. It was as if her were following someone else’s script, even though the words came from his mouth.
“Of course.” The Man in the Middle reached behind his back and produced a second red rose, with even more petals and none of them picked.”
“Thank you,” Luca said. He took the rose and started to pick the petals, one by one, adding fresh drops of blood to the new fallen snow. He said, “She loves me; she loves me not,” just like The Man in the Middle.
They picked their petals together in silence, the cold wind stinging their cheeks, neither one afraid. Luca was about to leave to look for Rebecca when he said, “You’re sharing the snow right now with all of us, right?”
The Man in the Middle looked down at Luca, and said, “She loves me not.”
* * * *
BORICIO WOLFE: PART 2
In the woods
March 25
early morning
Boricio stared through the binoculars, watchin
g the snow cover the sloping roofs of the houses below, the place his gut told him that his team had gone to. There were no signs of Charlie, Adam, Vic, or Callie. But it made sense that they’d be down there. It was warm and looked like the safest place Boricio had seen in a while. If they were making a break from Team Boricio, this seemed like the best bet for the four of them.
He almost couldn’t blame them for leaving. But he was pissed as a motherfucker that they hadn’t thought to come get him. And to come here, of all places? To the enemy camp?
What, do they think they’re too good for me? They don’t want Boricio socializing with their new friends?
Either way, the trip wouldn't be a waste. Even if Chucky Fuckup wasn’t down there letting Adam give him the old reach around, since Callie wouldn’t, the odds were solid that Boricio would find something to fuck, even if not Callie. Now that he’d had a taste of fresh pussy, or not so fresh in Jenna’s case, he was like a fatso off his diet.
Boricio tossed the binoculars into his backpack, then wrapped a scarf around his neck and pulled a wool hat over his head, just past his ears. He turned the pistol around in his hand, taking a long while to drop it in the trunk, along with the bag full of weapons, he would come back to get later.
He tossed his keys into a hole in a nearby tree, and covered the Z8 with a white tarp, where it was concealed well enough behind a thick wall of trees.
Boricio trudged through the snow toward the compound, until he found the road which led to the wrought iron gates in the distance. Every step thickened the new feeling inside him, a feeling he didn’t know but liked a whole fuck of a lot. It was like walking into a dream, wide awake.
Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) Page 33