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

dick of what Boricio, Mary, Paola, and Emily were seeing. But he did nothing to interrupt.
    “Are you alive?” Emily asked.
    “No,” the specter shook her head. “That doesn’t mean I’m not here, or that I can’t see you, though. I’ll be watching out for you, Baby.”
    The woman started to fade as Luca’s body began to shake. Sweat plastered his head, and it seemed like he was suffering from the strain of whatever it was he was doing. Boricio was about to shake Luca out of it, but then the woman looked at Brent, and said, “Brent, you made it back! Please take care of my baby girl.”
    Brent didn’t seem to hear her.
    Emily said, “Mommy wants you to take care of me, Mr. Brent.”
    “What?” Brent said, staring at the girl, then up at Mary and Paola, both of them nodding.
    “We can see her,” they said together, creeping Boricio way the fuck out, especially since he said the same shit at the same time, as if the same voice was speaking through all three of them at once.
    What the fuck?
    “Please take care of my baby,” they said together again, even though Boricio had no knowledge of thinking the words before they fled his mouth.
    “I love you, Emily. Please don’t be sad. We’ll be together again,” they said in unison.
    Emily reached out to touch the specter, her eyes wide and filled with tears.
    Their hands touched and a sad smile broke across the little girl’s face.
    Luca slumped forward, as if someone took the batteries out of him, and the ghost was gone.
    Brent reached forward and helped Luca sit up. “You okay?”
    Luca shook his head, “Yeah,” he said, then looked up at Emily, who smiled up at him, wiping tears from her eyes.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    Boricio turned to Mary and Paola and said, “What kinda Touched By An Angel shit was that?”
    Before Mary came up with a theory or Luca could respond, Boricio’s attention was pulled away by Charlie who approached him, walking beside Callie.
    “Is he okay?” Charlie said, looking at Luca about as weird as Luca had been looking at Emily before he went and played Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost.
    “I think so,” Mary said, her hand on Luca’s shoulder as Emily told Brent what she’d seen.
    “I think we’re gonna have a problem getting to the island,” Charlie said.
    “Why’s that?”
    “Someone just told Ed that they’re not making any trips over until they get things sealed on the island or something. They said it’s too dangerous.”
    “Bullshit,” Boricio said, as he marched over to where Ed, Pirate Boricio, and two Guardsmen were standing in a circle with Ed trying to persuade someone to get the ferry in motion.
    Boricio slid between them, then grabbed the radio from Ed before he could say dick. “Don’t mean to break up the circle jerk,” Boricio said to whoever was on the other side of the radio. “But we got something you want.”
    “Who is this?” a man’s voice asked.
    “Boricio Fucking Wolfe, who the hell is this?”
    “This is Acting Director Ed Keenan; give the radio back to Captain Keenan,”
    “No,” Boricio said. “Is there a Will Bishop in your room?”
    A moment passed before Keenan said, “Yes. Why?”
    “Because Will’s lil’ Luca paid us a visit with a very special message.”
    Six seconds passed, then Will Bishop was suddenly on the radio. “What? You saw him? Where is he?”
    “I dunno where he went. He came and went like a ghost. But your Luca came to our Will just before he died and said we had to get a message to Black Island, that it might get us back home and save the world and all that happy horse shit. Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t like to take long ass trips across the country, then get kept waitin’ in the middle of Shitsville. So you better get your bumper boat back here, pronto.”
    “It’s too dangerous,” Will said. “There are aliens on the docks and our manpower is limited.”
    “Well, lucky for you, Team Boricio just drafted a buncha new soldiers, so you get your ferry over here and let us worry about the E-Fucking-Ts.”
    “Please, just give us the message now,” Will said, his voice desperate.
    “No, no, I’m not sayin’ shit until we’re standing on the other side of the goddamn water.”
    After a long pause, Will said, “We’ll send the ferry to you, but you have to give me the message before it docks. I can’t guarantee you safe passage once you get off the boat.”
    “Fine by me,” Boricio said, then handed the phone to Ed and