Yesterday's Gone: Season One

single location. No bodies were there, but no rubble was there either. Not exactly. The gravel and detritus that should’ve carpeted the ground wasn’t there. Instead, they were ankle deep in some sort of charred rock, surprisingly uniform and each roughly the size of a golf ball, though the debris was angular, not round — volcanic looking, and almost beautiful.
     
    “Do you think this is Ground Zero?” Mary asked.
     
    John picked up a chunk of debris. “Looks like obsidian, feels like glass, but seems like ... wood. I don’t think this is Ground Zero. If this is what caused it all, the forest wouldn’t have been so green just a few miles back.”
     
    “He’s right,” Desmond said. “Stuff would be scattered away from here, not gathered here if this were the point of origin. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
     
    Paola stared past the horizon. Mary wondered what kept her from crying. Her father cried like a baby when touched the right way. She’d seen it happen during commercials and sporting events. Especially when a player he liked did something historic.
     
    “How long do you think all the black goes for?” Paola asked Desmond.  
     
    “No way of knowing,” Desmond rose from his knee, dropped the hunk of rock, wood, or whatever it was, into the pile with a glassy thud, then looked at Paola. “But if I’m telling you what I think, I bet black crashes into green again just a few miles up the road.”  
     
    “Do you think the Army Base will still be there?” Paola asked, her voice   surprisingly strong. Mary was proud.  
     
    “You’re old enough for me not to lie to you, so I won’t say yes. I think the base and the people in it are probably gone like the rest of everything. I figure it’ll be empty or worse. Whatever happened was probably something the Army couldn’t have prepared for even if they knew it was coming. Might even be something we can’t fully understand. What I do know is that it’s our best hope at the moment. Even if there’s no people, there may be supplies. And it could offer some safety.”
     
    “Safety from what?” Jimmy asked.
     
    “Every environment has its predators, and predators like easy prey. We need to stick together. Our number is already too small and we can’t afford to let it shrink.”
     
    “Mr. Desmond,” Paola said, “Can we find someplace to sleep? I don’t want to drive after dark.”
     
    “Great idea,” Jimmy said.  
     
    The sun was already a mean shade of orange, and it felt just a few feet away. It would be gone in minutes, even though it couldn’t have been later than mid-afternoon. Desmond’s chest rose and his nostrils flared as if he were going to let loose with a decisive NO. It was clear he wanted to keep driving. He opened his mouth, but closed it quickly. He opened it again, but before he could speak John interrupted.
     
    “It’s not a democracy. If the guy with the guns and supplies says GO, then around the board we shuffle.”  
     
    Desmond smiled. “No need for that, John. Yes, of course, Paola. We’ll stay at the first safe place we can find. Might as well take advantage of the full End-Of-Creation discount.” He offered a wan smile at John and got into the van.
     

     
    **
     

     
    The Suburban followed Desmond for seven miles, then chased it down the first offramp with a bank of hotels waiting. Just as Desmond predicted, total devastation had ended just three miles past the pileup, meaning the obsidian rubble and mammoth pileup was definitely the evil eye of something.  
     
    The hotel was a Drury Inn, a nice one. And to their rather wonderful surprise, the electricity was working, with all locks set to “open.”
     
    They chose four rooms, next to and across from one another, all on the first floor. The five weary travelers took a much-needed three-hour rest, then showered, dressed in clean clothes, and met in the lobby bar for drinks. Four hours later, everyone was drunk, including Paola in a virgin Shirley Temple sorta way. Everyone was still wearing the shock, but the last few hours had stretched the fabric.
     
    Mary sat with her daughter and Jimmy, but her attention was on the bar, a few feet away, where Desmond approached John.  
     
    “How’re you doing, man?” Desmond placed his back to the bar and looked into John’s fully toasted brown eyes with his slightly tipsy green ones.  
     
    John shrugged. “What can I say? We stared into the soul of absolute emptiness and it