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

doing it at all. You’re far more equipped to deal with rebuilding. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. While we might look the same, and have more than a few similarities, you’re obviously more suited to the tasks that must be done than I am. Trust me.”
    Ed looked at Jade, who stared at him as if waiting for him to disappoint her again. Waiting for him to run off to fight again. It was all he’d ever done, after all. Live to serve.
    But whose interests was I serving all those years? Certainly not my family’s.
    Something told him to stay put.
    It’s time to stop running away. Stay and fight to rebuild the life with Jade. Stay and make sure Teagan and Becca are okay. Stop fucking running.
    Ed wasn’t sure if it was his instincts, which had never led him astray, fear, or perhaps the emotion of seeing the girls again after such a long time.
    Whatever it was, Ed decided to listen to his gut. “OK,” he said. “I’ll stay, but only under one condition.”
    “What’s that?” Other Keenan said.
    “Brent Foster and the little girl he’s with stay here too.”
    “No problem,” Other Keenan said.
    Teagan threw her arms around Other Keenan, tears streaming down her face, “Please, don’t go.”
    He shook his head, “I’m sorry. But believe me, if something goes bad, you and Becca are better off with this man.”
    She cried, hugging him tighter.
    Other Keenan kissed Teagan on the cheek, gently pushed her from his body, then picked Becca up from the bed, kissed her on the head, and said, “I’ll be back soon, Baby Doll.”
    Ed watched how Other Keenan was so gentle and caring with Teagan and the baby while saying his goodbyes, and figured that he was probably wrong after all. Maybe Other Keenan was a good guy, better than he was, and possibly one of the rare men who would actually be a decent father.
    Then again, maybe Ed was getting his second chance right now.

    * * * *

Chapter 10 — Boricio Wolfe Part 2

    Black Island, New York
    April 2012
    SIX MONTHS AFTER THE EVENT…

    It was like a Very Special Episode of The Brady Bunch or some goddamn shit, how the entire fucking short bus was hitting the road, headed for Will’s house to pull some magical fucking vial out of a globe.
    Except in this case, instead of a short bus, they were riding two small black trucks.
    The Brady Bunch in this very special episode was himself — the Original Gangsta Boricio; his fugly body double, Pirate Boricio; Nerdy Die Hard; Mary and her Little Lamb; and Will’s less crazy-looking double, who apparently let Pirate Boricio sit on his lap through puberty. Of course, there was also Grandpa Luca, some cunt hair named Sullivan, and Chuckie Cheese Dick’s cock warmer, Callie, all of them whistling while they worked like the Seven Fucking Dwarves on their way to get the vial.
    There was quite the melee at the Ponderosa. However, before they hit the trail Nerdy Die Hard and Keenan suggested that Mary and her Little Lamb stay behind at the ranch. That was just fine with Miss Mary, but Luca wouldn’t hear it. He said they both had to come because “Paola and Mary increased the power inside him.”
    Luca didn’t say shit past that, though everyone wanted to know what in the fuck it meant. Apparently having a raisin cock gave you the juice to call the shots.
    Shit was a mile and a half past nucking futs, but at least Boricio figured the end was near enough to hit when he spit. Whatever was about to happen, it was going to happen goddamn soon. If Old Man Luca was right, then they could be home soon, which meant Boricio could finally quit playing babysitter and get back to what it was he did best, hunting solo — even though he wasn’t sure if Luca had “fixed him” too well to go after the same types of targets.
    Boricio wondered how long he’d actually think about shit like people’s feelings before he took what he wanted. He thought again of the little girl, Emily — Why the fuck do I remember her name? — and the guilt he felt for being an orphan factory.
    Fuck you, Luca, for stripping the fun from this shit!
    Boricio wasn’t too worried, though. Because even though the man child had broken him, he’d left his taste for murder intact. Perhaps Boricio would make his murder premium. It would be like that four months when he gave up beef because some bitch bet he couldn’t. He didn’t give up meat, entirely, though. Just because he couldn’t have a burger didn’t mean he couldn’t eat the fuck outta some hot