Yesterday's Gone: Season One

much to tell. I spent most of the last few days hiding in a basement. Would’a stayed there, too, least if I hadn't got so goddamned hungry. You all are the first people I’ve seen since whatever happened happened, least if you don’t count the bitch that brought us all together.”  
    “And you, heavy breathing dude?” Moe asked. “You ain’t said shit that makes sense yet. Someone fuck you up bad when you got here?”
    “My name’s Adam, sir, And no, not hardly. I’ve had no problems other than getting tossed in here to start with. And I may be a prisoner but them folks out there saved me from something that was pure pitch black evil, I tell you what.”
    Silent Bob’s name is Adam. Shit, and he ain’t so silent now, way to fuck up a nickname. Oh well, not like I’ll need to remember his name much longer.
    Manny asked Adam, “What do you mean? That what you were trying to say earlier?”
    “Yeah,” his voice about cracked in half. Something in the tone made Boricio uneasy. “I seen some things that I don’t even know how to explain, though I expect I’ll try once they make sense inside my head. Are you okay, Mister… what did you say your name was?”
    “Boricio,” he said. No sense in lying, as none of these fuckers were likely to get out of here alive. “And yeah, I’ve dealt with tougher women than that prick.”
    “That Jackson guy seems like a real sore wound of a fella,” Adam said. “But I swear on everything I know we’re better off in here than we are out there, unless these guys are as crazy as the things I’ve seen. And they were horrible, but a fat step up from my old man. World’s gone; I’m a prisoner of who knows who, and I seen evil walking on two legs sure as I’m breathing earlier today, and I still say this is a better than average week.”
    Boricio should’ve known the second he referred to Moe as “sir,” but hadn’t realized until just that moment — Adam was only a boy.
    “How old are you Adam?” Boricio asked, no disguise.  
    “I’m 16, but big for my age. Was my job to get the beer, no matter who was asking.”
    “Your old man sounds like a ripe old gash of an asshole.”  
    Adam made a sound, might’ve laughed, though Boricio wasn’t sure. “Yeah, have to say I’m not sorry to see him go at all. Gary was an asshole and beat the shit out of me on days ending in Y and fucking my little sister once a month when my mom wouldn’t put out. Ma was busy pretending she didn’t have a clue what was going on, when the truth was she was just too scared to do anything about it.”
    “How old was your sister?” Moe wanted to know, as if it mattered.  
    “Just turned 15 last week of September.”  
    “How many times have you imagined killing him?” Boricio asked
    “Not once until last year, but once I started, every day since. Before then, I thought things were maybe somehow my fault. After that, it was clear he was some sorta demon.”
    Boricio felt something, maybe curiosity. He hoped it wasn’t anything bullshit like compassion, though he’d guessed he could understand it if it was. “What happened?”
    “We had just moved to St. Pete. Grandpa, the original asshole you might say, died and left Gary some land. A real dump, but paid for. There was a big trophy case in the house from when he was a kid. I was looking at the trophies, trying to see what the big one on top was for. I accidentally fell against the case and brought the whole thing down. I swear it was an accident, but before I knew it, all the trophies were on the ground, broken, and Gary came running in the room.”  
    “He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me through the house, kicking me the whole way. When we got to the kitchen, he flicked on the garbage disposal and grabbed my hand and shoved it into the drain, and I thought for sure, my fingers were gonna get caught up in it.” Adam started to cry, and fucking beer battered bullshit , Boricio kinda felt bad for the kid.
    “He kept calling me a liar and yelling at me to tell him what really happened. I kept telling him I wasn’t lying. He told me if I ever lied again, he’d bring me right back to that same spot and let the blades tear my fingers up.”  
    This day was getting all full up with fuckers to kill. Would be nice to find Gary and build a whole new kind of fire to hold his ass to. Would bring back the sweet taste for sure.  
    Boricio had a special place in his dark heart for evil fuck fathers ever since he