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

makes it there first, use it.”
    Sullivan, his face lit from below by the orange light, swallowed as Ed sputtered through his final breaths.
    Ryan asked, “What is that?” nodding toward the orange ball.
    Sullivan said, “The end of this island.”
    Ed coughed up blood, then stopped moving, eyes staring at the darkness above.
    Sullivan closed his eyes, seeming to whisper a prayer.
    Ryan didn’t think anyone was gonna answer, though.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 12 — Callie Thompson

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

    Callie stood up as the madness broke out all around them.
    She couldn’t believe Charlie had smacked her. She was pissed, but more than that, she was afraid. She knew that Charlie would never do that to her. There was something inside him. And that Something was after the same thing they’d come to the island for — the vial.
    She looked around, surveying the scene. She saw him slipping into the darkness of the woods on the way to Will’s house. He must’ve taken off while everyone was distracted. She could stay and help the others fight, but she didn’t think she’d make that much of a difference.
    But if nobody had even noticed Charlie was gone, then that meant nobody else could stop him— which meant she had to.
    Callie scooped up her gun and chased Charlie. He was about 80 yards or so ahead of her, barely a blip of pale flesh in the black forest, but he was walking, not running, so she thought she might be able to catch him — so long as no aliens got in her way.
    Charlie reached the backyard of a two-story home, set in the woods, its front facing the ocean beyond, which she could hear even from this distance and above the gunfire behind her. Charlie bashed in a sliding glass door and stepped inside the house.
    Shit! Shit!
    Callie ran faster, certain that as she drew closer to the backyard, an alien would surface from nowhere and kill her progress. Even if she were able to shoot the alien, or aliens, there was a damned good chance the gunshot would alert Charlie to her proximity, which would definitely speed him up.
    I can’t let him get the vial.
    Callie breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the back yard. She peered into the dark house, unable to see anything. She hesitated before stepping into the house. Since it was so dark, Charlie, or the evil inside him, was at an obvious advantage.
    Callie closed her eyes as she stepped inside, to better balance the difference between the moonlit night and the pitch black house. She opened her eyes, and in the moonlight spilling through the open windows, was able to make out the rough shapes of furniture and a stairway.
    No sign of Charlie.
    Callie inched forward, gun held in front of her.
    She wasn’t sure if she should hold the gun straight out, like she was, or more at a downward angle like she’d seen on The Shield . She wondered if holding the gun straight out was an open invitation for Charlie to knock it from her hand.
    Callie heard a loud bang from upstairs. Then another; the sound of furniture being tossed around.
    Is he looking for it? Is it not in the moon?
    What if it’s not here?
    Would that be good or bad?
    She headed to the stairway hoping like hell Boricio and the others could find her, and would show up soon. Now that she was close to catching Charlie, she had no idea what she would do.
    I’m not gonna shoot him, am I? It’s Charlie!
    But what am I gonna do? TALK HIM into handing the vial over?
    What the hell am I thinking?
    Do not go up the stairs.
    Just wait.
    Boricio and everyone will show up.
    Just.
    Wait.
    Callie waited, looking out the rear window, but she saw nothing but black.
    Damn it.
    Callie started climbing the stairs.
    Slowly — One.
    Step.
    At.
    A.
    Time.
    Another loud crash of furniture made Callie jump, and she nearly fired her gun. She grabbed the railing, breathing relief for not pulling the trigger.
    The movement upstairs suddenly stopped.
    Shit, It heard me!
    Silence stretched as Callie kept herself frozen, gun aimed up the stairs, waiting, and praying that Charlie wouldn’t show his face.
    “I hear your heartbeat,” Charlie said in a voice that was only his because it came from his throat. The music of his speech was horrible; void of emotion.
    “Leave now or I will kill you,” he said.
    Callie swallowed, her heart threatening to burst from her chest.
    Should I say something?
    Maybe he doesn’t know I’m here. Maybe he’s just testing.
    “Leave. Now,