Yesterday's Gone: Season One

was nearly too late.
    On the side of the highway, the soft red glow of taillights broke through the white wall of rain.  
    “Fuck!” Ed screamed, yanking on the steering wheel sharply, sending the SUV sliding.
    Ed rotated the wheel in the direction of the spin, praying the SUV wouldn’t roll. The truck spun, faster out of control, as it crossed into the opposite lanes. Ed’s eyes were wide, adrenaline shooting through every cell, as he somehow turned through the skid and managed to come to a full stop.
    His body shaking, he let out a deep breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding, and glanced ahead, his car now facing the original direction. Twenty yards ahead, a light colored Buick sat on the side of the road, its front passenger side crushed against the side rail. Its front driver light and taillights were on, but the cabin was dark.
    Ed leaned forward, trying to see into the car.
    Is there someone in there?
    He thought he saw movement, but couldn’t be certain.  
    Every instinct told him to get the hell out of there, but something else tugged at his brain, pushing him forward. He grabbed the gun from the backpack, checked the clip, made sure one was in the chamber, and the safety off.
    He drove toward the car, slowly, with high beams on. Nobody was in the driver or passenger seats.  
    He saw movement again. This time for certain. Someone was in the backseat, just out of view. He pulled the SUV in front of the car, aiming the lights inside, and stepped from the truck, into the rain, gun in hand.
    He approached the car carefully, eyes on the backseat and its just out of sight inhabitant. He brushed the hard-falling rain from his eyes, and inched closer to the car until he saw a shape in the back seat. He trained the gun on the vehicle as he approached the back driver’s side door and peered inside. As he moved closer, his eyes widened.
    Sitting in the backseat, with her hands over her pregnant stomach was a ghost - white girl, no more than 16.

    **

LUCA HARDING

    Luca woke alone, sore, and somewhere with a lot of confusing. Trees surrounded him, but he could still hear waves from the Pacific. The rainbow was gone. His Lego shoes had been taken off, his other shoes sat beside him. A dog, a husky, was panting beside him.
    Luca grabbed his shoes and started to put them on. His head was still pounding, though less than before. His arms were painted in purple and a long gash ran along most of his right leg. It was bigger than the cut on his left ankle, though the cut on his ankle hurt a lot , lot more.  
    It was painful to stand, so Luca stayed sitting, rubbing his wounds. The heat in his body was easing the pain. So was the air, which had cooled down enough to feel a little like a kiss.
    The Husky didn’t seem weird like the other animals he’d seen; it was pretty normal. The dog whimpered and nudged his nose at the bottle of water beside him. It was warm, but Luca drank it all in a few furious swallows.  
    “Did you help me?” he asked, half expecting an answer. The husky nudged him and Luca looked up. The rainbow was back, still pointing south, slightly brighter.  
    Luca’s leg throbbed. “What am I supposed to do now?” He looked at the husky. “No way I’m driving.”
    “I don’t like driving without the controller. Or Daddy. It’s pretty sort of scary. Especially because I can’t look around me like I can when we’re going somewhere as a family. But we can’t go anywhere as a family now because I don’t know where anyone is and the phones don’t want the numbers to work.”  
    The husky trotted to the edge of the clearing and stuck his nose at something Luca couldn’t see. Luca slowly followed. In 10 steps the dirt ended in concrete. On the other side of the yellow paint sat a rundown shack that looked like it sold milkshakes. And they were probably great milkshakes, because a lot of bikes were in the bike rack.
    Luca looked both ways and crossed the street. He felt a bristle on the other side. He turned back and looked toward the trees, but saw none of the eyes he felt peering from behind them.
    They’re there. But I don’t know how many because the math is hard when it gets to a lot.  
    Luca looked another moment, then turned and headed for the employee entrance of the ice cream shack. It was locked but the window wasn’t. Inside, he looked for the white plastic box with the big red cross, like the one in Mrs. Engler’s office.  
    He found it in a cabinet a lot like