Yesterday's Gone: Season One

fingers.
    And that’s when she realized it had reached out and was clutching her skull, and somehow forcing its way into her mind.
    Memories began to flicker past her mind’s eye. Things she’d not thought about in years.
    I’m five and we’re sewing a pillow for the tooth fairy. We have to hurry because my tooth is hanging to my gums. Daddy comes in the room smiling. He just finished building a tiny bed for the tooth fairy, in case she gets tired and wants to rest before she finishes for the night.  
    Her headache grew worse as if her head were being crushed beneath the pressure of the monster’s fingers. And just like that, she could no longer remember what her daddy had built for the tooth fairy. And a moment later, she could no longer remember what age she was when the tooth fairy visited. And then after that, the memory itself was gone, leaving her confused, as if trying to recall a name she’d heard once five years ago.
    He’s digging through my mind like when Mommy digs through her garden. He’s filling his baskets with memories instead of flowers, and yanking them up by the roots. He’s taking them with him.  
    She cried out and tried to smack the monster’s arms away, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. It wasn’t hers to control any longer. She’d become little more than a puppet.
    A few moments later, she lay on the cold concrete ground of the gas station, unable to remember what happened, or how she’d gotten there. Nor could she remember her name.
    The only thing she knew for certain was she was about to die.

    * * * *

CHARLIE WILKENS

    October 17
     
    Early morning
     
    Pensacola, Florida
     

    As they got comfortable in the house in Pensacola, Charlie settled into the hope that things might be okay. They hadn’t seen any creatures since leaving Jacksonville, but they also hadn’t seen survivors. That was just fine by Charlie.
    The house, a three-story mansion on the water, belonged to Bob’s brother, Derek, who was gone to no one’s surprise. Rather than be upset by the news, Bob was relieved to find the brother he hated was on the highway to heaven or hell or where-the-fuck-ever.
    The house was easily the nicest Charlie had ever been inside. The photos of Derek and his family arranged in a neat row on the wall told Charlie exactly why Bob didn’t care for his brother. He was gay, with a black boyfriend and an adopted Chinese toddler girl. Even if Bob weren’t racist, the boyfriend wouldn’t jive with Bob’s hardline anti-queer views.  
    Charlie wondered how someone like Derek — successful, good looking, gay, and who didn’t hate minorities — could be related to Bob, who was the tail’s side of the coin on all those things. Well, except the gay part. Charlie figured anyone as homophobic as Bob was probably deep in the closet hiding behind a pink taffeta gown or two.
    Charlie had gotten a taste of Bob’s homophobia the previous fall when he tried growing his hair out to look less geeky.
    “What are you, a faggot?” Bob harangued him repeatedly.
    One time, Charlie was feeling snarky, and answered, “Yeah, want a kiss?”
    Bob answered with a swift smack in the mouth. That night at dinner, Bob demanded Charlie cut his hair or he would hold him down and shave him bald.
    “You’ve got a choice,” Bob said, “You have your mom take you to one of those faggy salons so you can get it cut nice and short, or I will strap you down and shave you.”
    “Mom,” Charlie pleaded, “He can’t do this.”
    His mom had that look .
    She wasn’t willing to turn the burner up on Bob’s temper. “You’ll look handsome honey. We’ll take you to the place Chad’s mom takes him. You like Chad’s hair, don’t you?”
    Charlie just shook his head. He could hardly look at her. He was more pissed at her than Bob. She was his mother. She was supposed to fight for him, not help the enemy. Charlie fled from the table. The next morning, he took his bike and went to the barber he’d gone to for years and got a shorter haircut, vowing to grow it out the minute he turned 18.
    Now, as he drifted in Derek’s pool, Charlie considered growing his hair out again. It was already longer than it had been in years, though Bob hadn’t seemed to notice in some time. The world was gone; Bob couldn’t get too pissed. It wasn’t like Charlie’s haircut would cost him a job with some Fortune 500 company.
    Charlie glanced at Bob who manned the barbecue grill, cooking some recently-thawed burgers