Yesterday's Gone: Season One

was on the girl.
     
    “I’m Callie,” she said, offering her hand to Bob.
     
    “Bob,” he said, placing his shotgun against the wall, “And this is my stepson, Charlie.”
     
    Charlie shook her hand awkwardly.
     
    “So,” Callie said, “what now?”
     
    “I think we need to get out of here. Sooner the better. Our place is compromised. And if there’s any more of those fuckers out there, we’re gonna need more protection.”
     
    “Amen,” the girl said.
     
    “Let’s pack some shit and get outta here ASAP,” Bob said.
     

     
    **
     

     
    They packed a few bags and searched the neighborhood for a better vehicle, something faster. They found a sports car one block over, though Charlie wasn’t sure what kind it was. He never cared much for cars. This one was red, sleek, and cramped in the back seat, where Bob made Charlie sit. It was loud and seemed to impress Bob and Callie.
     
    They drove further into town and found a gun shop, surprised to see it wasn’t already broken into. “Must not be too many more of us out here,” Bob said before stopping.
     
    The store wasn’t easy to break into, with bars on the windows and glass doors. But of course, Bob was prepared. He had something called a bumper which could unlock any door.
     
    They filled four duffel bags with as many pistols, shotguns, and ammo as they could stuff in the bags. Bob also grabbed a couple of semi-automatic assault rifles, the kind of shit Charlie had only seen in video games and movies.
     
    “You ever use any of these?” Bob asked Callie as he handed her a pistol.
     
    “No, but I’m a quick study.”
     
    “I’ll take you out tomorrow and show you both how to use them. They’re not hard, but there’s some shit you need to know so you’re not a danger to yourself or anyone else before you go off firing them. And depending on how many more monsters is out there, well, you’re probably gonna need to learn how to aim. If we get caught up in a swarm of those fuckers, every shot’s gonna count.”
     
    As Bob talked guns, Charlie found himself not hating the guy quite so much. Yes, he was a dick to Charlie for the past several years. Yes, he made Charlie’s life a living hell and picked on him, beat on him, and made him feel like shit. But since earlier in the day, he’d been a bit cooler. Not all the way, he still had that weird freakout about the cursing, but he was treating Charlie more like an adult and less like a ‘bratty kid,’ which was what Bob always called him when speaking to Charlie’s mom. “That bratty kid of yours.”
     
    And Bob’s usefulness with guns and fixing stuff, would no doubt come in handy if the whole world had gone to hell. Charlie wasn’t sure how much longer things like plumbing and water would work, so they’d need creative solutions to things Charlie didn’t know shit about.
     
    Now that Charlie thought about it, maybe Bob wasn’t off base in the way he treated him. Maybe he was a spoiled kid, even though he’d never considered himself one. What else would you call a 17-year-old who never had to do chores, didn’t know the first thing about manual labor, and had never been forced to work an honest day’s work in his life? Maybe, Charlie thought for the first time, Bob was trying to toughen him up. To get him ready to face the real world.
     
    To face this new world.
     

     
    **
     

     
    As they drove the streets, searching for a place to sleep for rest of the night, Charlie couldn’t help noticing the volume of the car’s engine. The thing sounded like a fucking jet. Especially as it raced through the empty streets. The roar probably traveled for miles.
     
    “Do you think we would’ve been better off with a car that wasn’t so loud?”
     
    Bob shot him a look in the rearview, “What?”
     
    “I mean, this car is nice and all, but it kinda advertises to the zombies, or whatever the hell they are, ‘Hey, we’re over here, come get us!’”
     
    Bob laughed. “Let ‘em come; I’ll run the fuckers over. VROOOOM VROOM, you fuckin’ zombies!”
     
    Callie laughed. Bob turned to her and smiled.
     
    “Zombies or not, they go fucking down when you hit ‘em with a bat, right, Callie?” he said, patting her on the knee.
     
    “Hell yeah,” she said, smiling, her eyes a bit glowing. And not at all reacting to Bob touching her knee.
     
    Is he fucking flirting with her? He’s old enough to be her dad!
     
    “Only thing I don’t get,” Bob said, brow