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

said, “Do you understand?”
    “Yes!” Charlie shouted, annoyed, and terrified of what was about to happen.
    They’d better not do anything to Callie.
    “I don’t like a single dingle berry on this shit-laced ass crack,” Boricio said, appearing beside Charlie again, still in the black duster and hat.
    Boricio paced the room, looking around, “Come on, do some of that voodoo hoodoo that you do so fuckin’ well, Charlie Brown.”
    Something tapped on the cell beside Charlie and he jumped, surprised.
    Callie was now in the cell beside him. They’d not taken her, after all. Or they’d taken her and brought her back. She was still naked, and looking exhausted as she set her hand against the glass. Though the light in her cell was off, it had a faint glow from the light of his cell that allowed him to see her well enough.
    Callie said nothing. Charlie smiled, then looked up at the ceiling.
    “Good, you see your girlfriend,” the voice said. “Now, I’d like to direct your attention to the holes above you. Notice, there are 16 holes per cell. You’ve probably noticed them already.” The voice paused, then added, “Am I correct?”
    Charlie nodded, assuming they were watching him from a hidden camera.
    “Good,” the voice said, confirming his suspicion.
    “Now I’d like to direct your attention to the cell directly across from you.”
    A light went on in the cell across from Charlie. Beside that cell, Charlie saw his old one, glass still shattered. The lit cell led Charlie’s attention to a naked man lying on his mattress, looking up at the lights, confused. Though the man appeared around 20, he was gaunt, and extremely tired looking. Dark circles painted the undersides of his eyes, and his long dark hair was a rat’s nest. The man muttered something toward the ceiling.
    “Are you watching?” the voice in Charlie’s cell asked.
    “Yes,” Charlie said.
    “Pay close attention. And I suggest you direct your girlfriend’s attention to the cell as well.” Charlie looked over and saw Callie nervously looking at him, rather than the guy. Charlie pointed at the cell across from them.
    “Watch closely,” the voice repeated.
    The guy began to cough and cover his mouth, as if some sort of gas was getting piped into the room. They’re gassing him! Charlie wanted to tell the voice to stop, but knew with a cold certainty that the Guardsman in charge wouldn’t. Charlie wanted to look away, but morbid curiosity wouldn’t let him.
    Flames suddenly shot from the ceiling, igniting the entire cell in a single explosive ball of fire. Charlie jumped to his feet and stared, mouth open without any words, screams, or whispers of terror.
    “WOO-HOO!!” Boricio cackled. “Let’s get us some marshmallows, because THAT right there is a fucking fire!”
    Charlie turned to Callie, who was still staring, unable to look away, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.
    “What did you think?” the voice said.
    Charlie said nothing, just glared at the ceiling.
    The voice moved from calm to sinister. “Well,” it said, “it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is your understanding that if you try another stunt like the one you pulled earlier, I will roast your bitch alive and make you eat her for fucking dinner.” The voice still deceptively pleasant, said, “Is that clear?”
    Charlie stared at Callie, fear twisting like a serrated blade through his stomach.
    The voice waited through a long minute before it said, “I asked you if that was clear. I suggest you answer the second time since I never, ever ask a third.”
    “Yes!” Charlie roared.
    “Good,” the voice said, almost hissing.
    The lights went black.
    Charlie ran to the wall beside Callie’s and ran his fingers across it as flames continued to lick the other cell’s interior, casting a faint orange glow inside both of their cells, barely illuminating Callie.
    Charlie touched the cold glass opposite her, their hands separated by inches that may as well have been miles. He wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else with Callie and a couch, where he could wrap his arms around her and fall gently to sleep.
    Charlie didn’t even want to have sex. He just wanted to lie beside her and feel not so alone. So devoid of hope.
    The fire died inside the old man’s cell and the entire block went dark. Charlie lay on the mattress, his hand on the glass, and cried himself to sleep.

    **

    “Wake up!”
    Charlie woke to the voice again.
    A few hours