Yesterday's Gone: Season One

had never been bitten.
    “Where’s the bite?” Brent asked, keeping his voice low enough that it didn’t travel to the living room.  
    “Gone,” Luis said, continuing to pack, clearly not wanting to discuss the subject.
    “Lemme see,” Brent said.
    “Nothing to see,” Brent said, “The bite healed itself.”
    “But you just said you were infected. It looks okay to me.”
    “It’s not okay,” Luis said. He stopped packing and met Brent’s eyes. “There’s something in me.”
    “What?”
    “Look,” he said, holding up his right forearm.
    And then Brent saw the shapes swimming beneath his skin.
    “What the?”
    “I don’t know, but I’ve gotta get outta here. I can’t be around you all when I turn.”
    “No,” Brent said, “I’m not leaving your side, especially when we’re so close to being rescued.”
    “Listen dude, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But those two out there, they didn’t sign up for this shit. I can’t put you all at risk.”
    “We’ll get you help from Black Island,” Brent said. “Maybe they know what those things are. Maybe they can cure you?”
    “Yeah, and maybe they’ll lock me up to run experiments on me too. I’m not gonna be some lab rat with doctors poking me and shit. I’m fine with dying. Hell, I didn’t expect to wake up on October 16. So, I’m already living bonus time, extra lives, and all that shit. I’m just gonna go off and see how things happen, far away from where I can do anyone harm.”
    “Wait a second,” Brent said. “What if what you said is true? What if they do run experiments on you and stuff? Maybe they can find a cure. Maybe you can help others who are infected? I don’t wanna sound all new-agey, especially when I don’t believe that shit, but what if you were infected for a reason. Maybe that’s why you’re still here, to be cured, to help others get cured?”
    Luis stared at him, silent for a full minute.
    “I hate when you make sense,” Luis said. “Okay, I’ll stay, and get on that ferry, but you’ve gotta promise that if I show the slightest sign of changing, you will shoot me in the head.”
    “Jesus, that’s some promise.”
    “Just promise.”
    “Okay,” Brent said, “I promise.”
    “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”
    “Okay, I promise, if you turn into a zombie-alien, I’ll shoot you in the head.”
    “Thank you,” Luis said.
    In the living room, Jane called out, “I hear the ferry!”

    * * * *

EDWARD KEENAN

    Ed descended the stairs, pistol in each hand, trying to clear Jade from his mind.  
    He couldn’t afford to think about her being mad at him or take time to ease whatever fears she was harboring. He had to act quickly and without emotional baggage weighing him down.
    It was bad enough he’d taken on the girl, Teagan. Now he had to worry about his daughter — his flesh and blood, which meant all his decisions were compromised. He couldn’t think logically. Jade, and Teagan, would inform his decisions. In short, he could no longer trust his instincts if he gave emotion free reign. He must be a machine, divorced from feelings that could impede necessary action.
    He pushed through the double doors on the ground floor and headed to the SUV. Across the parking lot, in front of one of the other three apartment buildings that formed a square around the giant parking lot, stood four creatures. They were long and black, with shiny skin. He couldn’t tell if they were aliens or the results of a government lab experiment gone awry. But even at a distance, he was certain of one thing — they were predators. He would have just seconds to act once they saw him.
    He was 15 yards from the SUV when two of the creatures broke from the pack and began loping toward him, running on both hands and feet. Fast.
    He sprinted towards the SUV, heart hammering in his chest. He reached the driver’s door, yanked it open, and keyed the ignition. As he threw the truck in reverse, the windshield filled with a creature and its dark, soulless eyes, clawed hands, and jagged teeth.  
    “What the fuck are you?” Ed yelled as the creature jumped onto his hood, bashing its hands into the windshield and causing it to crack. The second hit spread a web across the window, which quickly collapsed and rained chunks into the cabin.  
    Left hand on the wheel, Ed raised his pistol, fired twice — once at the thing’s chest, another at its face. Both shots met their target, and the creature fell and Ed ran it over.