Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER)

are From Mars and Women are From The Crack of Uranus book at home, so I don’t quite know how to put up with these bitches.”
    Luca continued to ignore him.
    “You’re really gonna save three broads? With two of ‘em bitchy?”
    Luca spun around and glared at Boricio. “Shut up! You don’t even know them! I’ll save whoever I want.” Then under his breath he said, “You’re not the boss of me.”
    Luca regretted getting in Boricio’s face before he was even in it. The glimmer in Boricio’s eyes reminded Luca who he was dealing with.
    Boricio’s right arm thrust out like lightning, his fingers instantly curling around Luca’s throat. A smile spread across Boricio’s smile — the smile of his namesake, a wolf.
    “Surprised the puppy’s gone pouncing from his leash?” Boricio cackled, as if he’d picked up on Luca’s thought of wolfish smiles. “You managed to get in my head for a bit, kid. And I’m not sure why, but I can’t quite hate you enough to hammer you with the sort of fuck all that makes my itchy stop itching, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you can talk to me like that and keep all your teeth. Now, do I sound like I’m speaking some ching chong ramma lamma ding dong language, or are my words American as a chocolate milkshake and a titty fuck to you?”
    Luca tried to speak, but could only choke as Boricio’s fingers dug into his throat.
    Boricio relaxed his grip, then released it completely. Luca fell to the ground, clutching his throat.
    “I’m sorry,” Luca said, not apologizing because he was afraid of Boricio. He actually felt bad for getting in Boricio’s face. Luca wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to upset Boricio. It was as if Boricio were an older brother or something. He didn’t understand why he would want the approval of something that was more monster than human, but it didn’t change the fact that he did.
    Boricio stared at Luca. “Sorry, man. Maybe I overreacted. I keep forgetting that you’re missing the hair on your balls inside that noggin of yours.” Boricio knocked his knuckles on his own head. Luca nodded, trying to keep his emotions flat as he worked up the courage to say what was inside his head.
    Luca hoped his calculations were right — that Boricio wouldn’t, or couldn’t, hurt him. Because what he was going to say might bring out the beast.
    “I’m going to save the girls,” Luca said. “So please don’t try to stop me.”
    “Don’t I have any say in this?” Boricio asked. “I gave a decade of my sweet life to keep you breathing! I get at least one vote, right? And I vote for Godzilla.”
    Luca thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, you can have a vote. But I’m bringing back Paola and Mary, first. And they get a vote, too.”
    “You might wanna think twice on that, kid. If you think there’s any way in hell they’re gonna pick to save your girlfriend over ole’ Quiet Eyes, then you’re not the sharpest Crayola in the box.”
    “So what am I supposed to do?” Luca said, his voice rising an octave higher than he wanted, and cracking along the way. “If I bring Paola back, she’s going to want her mother.”
    “And if you bring back the mother, she’s gonna want her boyfriend. All the more reason to listen to ye ole’ Boricio. Hell, I’ve got an even better idea — bring back your girlfriend and Godzilla, then save the rest of that juice for yourself. The old fucker said that tic-tac-toe, it was three in a row that would fuck you up so bad you couldn’t save anyone else. So why not stop at two?” Boricio nodded with a smile as if the idea had just occurred to him. “I’m telling you, it’s a bad time to be an old fucker. There ain’t one goddamn Perkin’s left out there.”
    Luca hadn’t thought about it, but Boricio had a point. How old would he be if he saved three people? Would he be old like his great grandpa, Sal, who died two years earlier at 99? Who would take care of Luca if he aged that far? It wasn’t like doctors were around. Or medicine, or any of the things you needed when you got old. He wouldn’t be able to move fast, making him an easy meal the next time they ran into monsters.
    “Ah, well, at least I can see you’re thinking about it,” Boricio said. “About damned time you started giving a shit about yourself! I imagine you’ve not yet had the chance to make a boneless beef burrito with a bitch tortilla yet, but I’m guessing you haven’t. And I’ve gotta be honest,”