Yesterday's Gone: Season One

his annoyance.
    “You handled yourself pretty well in the parking lot,” the man said, “like you were trained.”
    “Maybe because I was.”
    “And yet when I ran your face and fingerprints, you didn’t show in our system.”
    “Weird,” Ed said, not buying the guy’s bit for a second. Though the guy was obviously trained to counter the tell-tale physical signs of deception, he couldn’t pull the wool over Ed’s instincts.
    “So, where’d you learn to use a gun like that?”
    “You’d be surprised what you can learn on YouTube,” Ed said, grinning.
    His smile wasn’t returned. “What’s this agency you were talking about earlier?”
    “Let’s cut the shit, guy. Just tell me what you want from me and I’ll do it. Want me to go on the six o’ clock news and tell everyone I’m a psycho gunman and not at all an agent of the government, fine. I’ll do it. Just, please, I want to see them.”
    “Who do you want to see?”
    “Jade, Teagan, and the guy, Ken. I assume you picked them up when you grabbed me.”
    “Well, we’ve got two of them.”
    “What do you mean, two of them?”
    “One of them didn’t make it.”
    Ed swallowed, not sure if the guy was pushing his buttons. He kept calm. “Who?”
    “The man, Ken. He was infected so we had to purge him.”
    Ed stared at the guy, trying to gauge his honesty. If he was lying, Ed couldn’t tell. “What do you mean infected?”
    “He was bitten. We can’t risk bringing the infection here.”
    “So, he’s dead?”
    “He would’ve died, anyway. Or become one of them.”
    “What are they?” Ed asked.
    “You’ve yet to tell me your name.”
    “Edward Keenan.”
    The man paused for a moment. Ed wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or Ed saying his name had thrown him for some kind of loop. Do they really not know who I am?
    “Well, hello, Mr. Edward Keenan. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Sullivan. Now, tell me, Mr. Keenan, what is it that you do?”
    “Are you fucking with me? You really don’t know? Who the hell are you that you don’t know who I am? If you were a legal authority worth a damn, you’d know my name, even if you didn’t know who I really worked for. So, if you really don’t know that information, I’m sure as hell not at liberty to tell you.”
    Sullivan smiled. “I’m gonna tell you what I think, Mr. Keenan. I think you think you’re something you’re not. Because trust me when I say, if you were anybody worth knowing, I would know who you are and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. So, why don’t we start over and tell me who you really are and what it is that you do?”
    Ed closed his eyes, then opened them, “I’m not telling you shit until I see my daughter and Teagan. After that, I’ll sing whatever song you like.”
    Sullivan stared for a moment. “I can bring you Jade, but Teagan had to be moved elsewhere.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Sorry, Mr. Keenan, I’m not at liberty to tell you.”

    * * * *

MARY OLSON

    October 18
    Morning
    Belle Springs, Missouri

    In the last week, Mary had been forced to face an entire world gone missing, her only child thrown into unimaginable danger, and a lingering imprisonment in a godforsaken Dreary Inn. Yet seeing the brooding despair colonizing the children’s faces on the other side of the bar was an altogether different sort of torture.
    “It’s going to be okay,” she said in her best sitcom mom voice. “Desmond will have a plan in a few minutes. Then we’ll either be on our way, or camping out here for another day. Either way, we’re safe. I promise.” She dropped a maraschino cherry and straw into each of the two Shirley Temples, then slid them across the bar to Paola and Luca.
    “How do you know everything will be okay, mom?” Paola said.
    “I just do,” Mary answered, even though she didn’t.
    “Outside,” Luca said, “it’s more of the terrible scary. ”
    Paola and Mary traded a glance. It was weird seeing the boy aged. Weirder still, when he still used language like an eight year old, rather than the young teen he appeared to be.
    Paola said, “What’s the terrible scary?”
    “The black stuff that wasn’t there before the bad stuff happened.”  
    “What do you mean?”
    “Do you ever get sad spiders?” Luca asked Mary.  
    She couldn’t help but smile. “Sure, I think everyone probably gets sad spiders sometimes.”
    “Well, the terrible scary is filled with sad spiders. I