Yesterday's Gone: Season One

brought his arm closer for a better look, when something moved beneath his skin.
    “Fu-” he shouted, the light slipped, bounced around the shower floor with a loud echo, before coming to a stop. Luis grabbed it, focused the beam back on his arm, waiting for movement.  
    Maybe I’m just seeing things.
    Something moved again, and this time he was certain he’d seen it. And not just one thing moving, but several worm-like shapes, just beneath the surface of his skin.  
    Luis stared in horror. Eyes wide, unable to look away.
    Infected.
    No, I’m not going out like that.
    Luis yanked the shower curtain aside, threw the light into the sink where it rolled before pointing at the mirror, and grabbed the shotgun. He sank to the floor of the shower, water pouring over him, blinding him, as he wrapped his lips around the barrel of the shotgun.
    He prayed that suicides didn’t go to hell, and he would see his wife and daughter again in the great beyond.

    * * * *

JOHN LARSON

    October 17
    Early evening
    Belle Springs, Missouri

    The afternoon was long. Despite creeping danger outside and mounting evidence that they should leave, Desmond wouldn’t budge. A weird kid, a crazy old man and the Olson Twins had made sure of that.
    At least they had finally managed to fortify the hotel. Four entrances were there, but before they effectively blocked them all, the party was vulnerable. And leaving in the morning or not, that wasn’t going to fly, which is why he, Desmond, Mary, and Will spent the afternoon moving furniture and shoving it against the windows and doors.
    Desmond even walked two blocks to where he’d seen an oversized 4 x 4, then brought it back and parked it flush against the rear door of the hotel farthest from them and therefore most susceptible to attack.  
    That made John feel better, but not much. No, much didn’t come around until his third, maybe fourth, shot of scotch.
    He would have been content to drink the day to memory, sleep off the stupidity of everyone around him, then wake in the morning and get the hell out and onto the road. But he preferred to drink alone and no one would let him. Everyone kept dropping by the bar to check on him and make sure he was okay. First Will, then Mary and Desmond together, and now Jimmy, who wasn’t old enough to drink (though that didn’t stop him from getting high), so he just sat beside John on the barstool with a stupid grin, a glass of soda, and his endless reserve of verbal vomit.
    “Come on,” Jimmy said, “Isn’t there any part of you that sees this as an adventure?”
    John stared at Jimmy, poured himself another shot, then lifted it to his lips, tilted his head and drained it with a grimace.
    “You don’t know me well enough to realize that ignoring me just makes me more eager to break down your defenses,” Jimmy said.
    John stayed silent.  
    Jimmy said, “It really, really sucks about Jenny. I’m sorry about that, believe me. But there’s nothing you can do to change it, and every minute you spend thinking about it now is a minute you’re not spending living the only life you have left.”
    John poured himself another shot, then set the bottle on the bar and turned to Jimmy. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re a kid. You don’t know the first thing about love or loss or sacrifice, and you don’t know what it feels like to lose the one thing in your life that matters most.”
    “Fuck you, man.” Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but that’s bullshit.   You think I woke up with my family and friends gone without feeling a thing? No, I woke up just as scared as anyone, and I’ve stayed just as scared, but I’m not letting those feelings live my life, or stink up the air of everyone around me. We’re all in the same boat. You don’t have a monopoly on sorrow, dude. We’ve all lost people we love. And we’re all trying to survive and make the most of this.”
    “Well,” John said, “looks like one of us is just more honest than the other.” He drained his shot and poured another.  
    “Hope the end of the world heightened your tolerance to alcohol, because you’re on your way to the floor. Again.” Jimmy slid from the barstool, gave John a mock salute then sauntered off.  
    Punk ass kid was way too full of himself. Of course he missed his family, but that wasn’t the same. You were born into your family, you didn’t choose them and they didn’t choose you. Losing the one person