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

never met, and maybe they would both die here in the unfortunate hell where they finally found themselves together again. But as Charlie met her eyes and found nothing inside but sorrow and fear, he felt compelled to conquer the one fear that would make him ready for death.
    As the cleanup man finished mopping the last of the redhead’s blood, Charlie put his hand on his heart and mouthed the words, “I love you.”
    Callie’s face crumbled and she brought her hands to her face, crying.
    He wasn’t sure if he’d made a mistake in thinking that love in a place like this was pointless and that he’d only succeeded in upsetting her further.
    The lights dimmed again and the darkness returned.
    Charlie went back to bed and cried into his pillow … until Charlie’s cry turned into a scream.

    **

    Charlie didn’t remember falling asleep, but it didn’t seem long before he was waking up to bright lights burning in his cell again.
    The trio of death began its descent down the hall again, two men in yellow, one holding a clipboard, with the man in black behind, rifle in hand. Charlie and Callie were in the last two cells on the block, and as the trio drew closer, the swirl in his stomach turned especially sour.
    “Here they come, Charlie Brown. They’re coming to get you,” Boricio said from behind him.
    This time, Boricio was wearing all black. Pants, shirt, duster, and a black derby to match. Charlie wondered why he’d imagined Boricio dressed like this, or why he was apparently unable to imagine Boricio with a firearm or three to take these fuckers out.
    The trio was two cells away. The lead with the yellow clipboard looked up at Charlie. Their eyes met.
    “Uh-oh,” Boricio shook his head. “This looks about as good as a Showgirls sequel.”
    No one was to Charlie’s immediate left, and the trio had already passed the last of the cells except for his and Callie’s. They were coming for one of them.
    Fuck.
    The man in yellow looked at Charlie, down at the clipboard, then over at Callie.
    Oh no.
    They walked to Callie’s cell.
    Please, please, turn around. Don’t open her door. Don’t open her door. Open my fucking door!
    Charlie closed his eyes, not wanting to see reality as it spilled before him.
    “They’re opening her door,” Boricio said.
    Charlie opened his eyes.
    “No!” he screamed.
    The soundproof cell swallowed his screams.
    Charlie pounded on the glass.
    The man in black turned back toward Charlie. He could see the man’s icy eyes behind his glass mask. Then he turned from Charlie, ignoring him, as the men in yellow pulled Callie from her cell.
    She screamed, trying to crawl back to her cell, her eyes wide, staring at them and then at Charlie.
    Charlie pounded harder, “No! Take me! Take me, you fucking cunts!”
    He couldn’t tell if they could hear what he was saying, but he was sure they heard the pounding and were choosing to ignore him.
    Charlie pounded his fists harder. “No!” he screamed as each man in yellow grabbed one of Callie’s arms, shoving her forward.
    She turned back, her feet kicking, as she looked back at Charlie, screaming something he couldn’t hear from her mouth or read from her lips.
    He screamed, bashing the glass harder and harder, as it purpled his fists.
    “Take me!”
    “They can’t hear ya, Charlie Cheese Dick” Boricio said, as the men pushed Callie past another cell, now halfway to the door. “I think it’s time to turn up the volume.”
    “How?”
    “You know,” Boricio said, even though Charlie didn’t have a clue.
    “What am I supposed to do?” Charlie screamed at Boricio.
    “Go get her back,” Boricio said, his eyes a set of steel marbles, settling on Charlie’s. “Go and fucking get her. Now!”
    Something sparked in Charlie and he slammed his hands against the glass again, opening his mouth and screaming an unholy wail, far from human.
    Glass shattered to the right of his cell door. Charlie stared in surprise, then turned to Boricio who was pumping his fist in the air and screaming, “WOO HOO!, Chuckie Cheese Dick, THAT’S what I’m talkin’ about you panty jacking mother fucker! Go get ‘em!”
    Charlie stormed into the hall, naked, armed with nothing but an exploding fury.
    The three Guardsmen stared at Charlie, and the damage he’d done to his cell, their eyes wide in disbelief. Callie’s eyes were wide too, as the men in yellow tightened their grips on her arms.
    The man in black raised his rifle, aiming at