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

were having trouble with the elevator.”
    No, I’m not having any trouble with the elevator. I’m having trouble with a know-it-all philosophizing dick tip, fuckyouverymuch.
    “No,” Boricio shook his head, unclenching his fist and relaxing his fingers. “No trouble at all, Richard. I just forgot what I was here for, and I hate it when that happens.”
    “I know how that feels.” Styley smiled, though Boricio thought the smile looked thinner than a summer sweater.
    Boricio nodded, then pressed 5, and set his hand on the scanner. The green line went up and down, then dinged as the elevator began to move. Boricio ignored Styley as the man pressed the 6 and put his hand on the scanner.
    The elevator doors dinged closed. Boricio quickly scowled, then scrubbed it from his face before the doors opened to Level Five a few seconds later. He stepped from the elevator before the doors were even half open, ignoring Styley as he said a meek “Goodbye,” and marched down the hallway toward Will’s office, trying to keep his calm, despite an inferno of rage burning inside him, licking an inner certainty that Will had revoked his access to Level Seven.
    Boricio spent the entire hallway breathing in and out and in and out as he tried untangling the pretzeled thoughts and twisted circles threading through his head. Another 15 minutes of Boricio’s practiced breathing, or hell, even a long hour of Lamaze wouldn’t be enough. He stormed into Will’s office, barely able to keep accusation and anger from owning his voice.
    “Wanna tell me why the fuck my security clearance has been downgraded?!” Boricio yelled. “I just tried to get to Level Seven, like I have every day since you dragged my ass and entire life onto this island.”
    Will calmly looked up from his desk, sighed, then held Boricio’s angry gaze for a half-minute or so before turning his attention back to the thin stack of sheets scattered across his desk. He stared down for another second, then shook his head and pushed the papers into a pile toward the corner.
    “Boricio,” he said, “I don’t want to fight, not about this or anything else.”
    “If you didn’t want to fight, then you wouldn’t have done sh… stuff behind my back.” He watched his language, giving Will nothing to bitch about and only the facts to argue. Boricio swallowed and breathed, waiting for Will to respond.
    “I understand how you’re feeling, and hear what you’re saying,” Will said, “And I’m sorry you’re angry. But I did what I had to do and stand by my decision. Unfortunately, you weren’t around when I made it. If you were standing beside me, I would have told you. I certainly have nothing to hide. Can you say the same?”
    Boricio’s fingers curled back into their fists.
    Will shook his head, sighed, and then stood up and walked around his desk to face Boricio.
    “I’m not afraid of you, Boricio. I am your father. And I will do what is right, always. I’m sorry about Rose.” He cleared his throat. “Truly I am. But there’s nothing I can do. What’s happened has happened, and the best thing we can do now — the healthiest thing for us to do together — is to accept that reality and do what we can within the realms of proven medicine, not the vials. What I cannot allow to happen,” he bored his eyes into Boricio’s, “what I will not allow to happen, is for you to go over my head again. That isn’t good for Level Seven, Son, and it’s definitely not good for our family.”
    “I didn’t go over your head,” Boricio said. “Or behind your back. Unless you’ve suddenly been named as head of the Remedy Project and didn’t take me out for a steak to celebrate, then I beg to fucking differ.”
    Will had walked around to Boricio’s side of the desk, but the words spilled from Boricio’s lips without a single breath taken, and nearly every word from the inside of a snarl made him take a surprisingly large step back.
    Boricio finished. “You’re a consultant to the Remedy Project, Will, a consultant just like me, not in charge. And what I thought had to be done with Luca didn’t require your particular brand of it ain’t gonna work , so I took it to Williams, who knew I was right, and helped to save your son from the death sentence you were all too willing to accept.”
    “It was wrong,” Will said. “And you were wrong. Are wrong. The only reason you’re even allowed to step foot inside this facility is because I brought you in and put