Yesterday's Gone: Season One

The church looked Catholic, and all the lights were on, which seemed like a miracle in itself. Fools gold, though. Before I hit the holy water no less than three guns were aimed at my face. Something hit me hard from behind and next thing I knew, I was in here.”
    A lot of shit seeped in the silences between people’s sentences, finished and unfinished. That fucker Jack knew something about something, and wasn’t saying shit about it. That wasn’t gonna do Boricio one cunt hair of good. No, he’d get that fucker to kick a jumbo pot of beans before he ended him.  
    “That sounds so scary,” Boricio said. “I bet it felt right good when you first saw those lights and thought you’d found some people.” He seasoned his sentence with a sympathetic pause, then added, “Too bad it turned out like it did.”
    “Yeah, but at least I’m with other folks now. It was awful being in the middle of all that nothing...”
    There it was. Boricio heard it clear, even if everyone else was too stupid to hear the shit that wasn’t being said. “What else did you see out there, man?”  
    Silence.  
    “It’s okay, we’ve all seen some crazy stuff in the last few days. World’s gone upside down. We’ll believe you. Right guys?”  
    A murmur of agreement rippled around the room, followed by a lingering silence. Boricio didn’t press it. A long silence was exactly what Jack needed to be drawn into talking. Finally, he drew a deep breath and let it spill.  
    “Day before I hit the church I saw something moving off the side of the road. Crazy looking and not quite right, a bit like road kill, but longer, more human. I slowed as I got closer, and sure as the shits at a chili cook off, it was wearing people clothes. I got out, real slow cuz it was just laying there, but laying there all wrong, if you know what I mean, though you probably don’t. I was halfway to it before I thought to go back and grab the Winchester from the Honda. I tiptoed to the thing, and about lost it when I got up close. It was black and white, dirt and light. The grimiest, scariest, living scarecrow of a creature I ever saw, and I worked at a slaughterhouse for two years. The thing started making all sorts a unholy sounds and then it tried to get up. I don’t even know if it could have, but I emptied the rifle into it before I got the chance to find out. I put every bullet where its face should’ve been, just in case. Then I saw another creature just like it later that night. So the short of it is, I’m with the kid; maybe this place right here ain’t so bad after all.”
    No one spoke, then Moe said, “Anyone else see these jitterbugs?”
    A chorus of yes’s followed, Boricio’s included, though he added his last, and he was lying.  
    These Mexican bean jittery fuckers don’t sound like no soldiers of any sort. They sound like some kind of accident, courtesy of whatever Armageddon dipshit let the fries burn in the first place.  
    “I seen worse,” Adam said. “I seen a bunch of them things. First one was in my house. I swore the thing was coming for my old man. Would’ve sworn on a stack a Holy Bibles a foot high. I thought the Devil had come to bring him home, and I ran from the house as soon as I saw it. I ran straight for the gorge, since that’s where I like to go when I don’t want to be found, and I saw six or seven more on the way. When I got there, I couldn’t believe what I saw — a couple dozen more of them things just quivering at the entrance. And just past them, that was the scariest shit I ever seen. There were bodies, dead people, hundreds, maybe even thousands. All   of ‘em stacked. Stacked so high you wouldn’t believe. It looked like...”
    Eureka! Organized disposal! Hunters!  
    “What do you mean stacked?” interrupted Manny. “You mean the bodies were in a pile?”
    “No, sir. Not a pile. A stack. The bodies were stacked in rows. Like pallets in a warehouse.”  
    Boricio smelled something on Moe. Whatever the fuck had been brewing in that guy’s ball sack earlier was boiling now. Something was off, and it had to do with the way Adam was telling his story.  
    There was a click, a whine, and a warm gust of air, followed by the unmistakable scent of that asshole, Jackson.  
    Looks like it might be game time. Don’t know how much more I’m gonna dig from this crowd. I’m leaving with some intel and an ally. Might be ready to leave with a scalp or two, too. Maybe I’ll let old Dead Guard