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

which I’m sure you’re a lucky enough fucker to remember, but they’ll do for short notice, I suppose.”
    Something about the asshole’s pride in his pancakes forced Boricio into the twitch of a grin. He swallowed his smile and said, “What in the hell are you doing here, Charlie? You’re infected. And how did you get out of your cell? How did you leave Black Mountain? How did you find us?”
    Asshole Boricio didn’t even give Charlie a second to answer. He asked, “Infected with what?”
    Boricio thought he’d already explained this shit to his asshole counterpart, but for the sake of keeping things calm, he said, “It doesn’t have an official name, but some of us at Black Mountain refer to it as ‘The Apocalypse Worm.’ The monsters aren’t monsters; they’re aliens. And the aliens aren’t friendly. They’re parasites that worm their way into your body through physical contact, usually a bite, then slowly — though it seems to be happening faster and faster — take over the body, turning regular people into mutated monstrosities. Charlie is our only subject not to have mutated in outward appearance, though. We have one other subject who is halfway mutated, but everyone else, once they’re infected, that’s been that. They’re lost.”
    Asshole Boricio then asked, “Is Charlie Cheese Dick dangerous? Is he gonna get all slippery when wet on us?”
    Callie spoke instead. “We’re safe,” she said. “I knew Charlie was infected, but wasn’t worried. Mr. Bishop said Charlie was fine, and that they’d probably be able to fix him, maybe use his blood to help fix everyone else. Believe me; you’ve nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless it was to protect one of us.”
    Boricio wanted to believe her, but looking at Charlie, and the odd look in his eyes that he couldn’t quite pin, he wasn’t so sure. Even if Charlie wouldn’t do anything dangerous on purpose, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat.
    Bishop considered pushing his position; drawing the line between himself and Charlie and clarifying the threat’s severity. If Charlie returned to his world infected, it was only a matter of time until their world went to ash just as this one was.
    Charlie still hadn’t answered the question, how he’d gotten out. And what the hell kind of mess did he leave behind? Boricio hoped that he didn’t break out and kill anyone. If so, he’d personally put a bullet in the kid’s head. The first time Charlie went all X-Men, Boricio could forgive. He was scared, his only experience with Black Mountain had been at the hands of assholes who shot the kid he was with. But Boricio had spared the kid, had trusted him. He hoped to God he hadn’t made an error.
    He considered pressing Charlie for an answer, but decided to go another, more subtle, route.
    Brent and Ed, the Black Island Guardsmen who’d proven quite useful, were standing about a foot and a half apart, their bodies tensed and ready; eyes wide and alert, shoulders and jaws set. Ed had one foot forward, ready to spring. He looked pissed, probably because Boricio made him leave his gun in the van. The woman, Mary, looked more upset than frightened, while her daughter looked more frightened than upset.
    He had no words to describe the look on Callie.
    Boricio didn’t have the time or the focus to read all of their thoughts, so he quickly went into their heads, pulling the most dominant thought from every mind in the room.
    Charlie: Nothing.
    Callie: He’s wrong about Charlie. Real Boricio will make sure everything’s okay.
    Ed: The crazy Boricio’s gotta go first. I’ll wipe that smug look off his face.
    Brent: At least she’s at the end of the world with her daughter.
    Mary: If anything happens, we run outside and grab a van … Sorry Luca.
    The girl: Charlie reminds me of John.
    Old Luca was sending nothing but static from upstairs, and that was slightly more than Boricio was pulling from Charlie.
    He hated the room’s tension, but at least that was something — the emptiness inside Charlie was chilling.
    But there was nothing Boricio could do, no way to cleanly win this particular battle.
    He’d go with the flow for now, play it cool. But he’d have to keep an eye on Charlie. Then he had to let Ed and Brent know that they needed to do the same. Shoot at the first sign of trouble. Boricio hoped it wouldn’t come to that, however. He actually liked Charlie a bit. He was a good kid given a bad deal, and from what