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

side to side around the leader.
    The leader roared, then charged at Boricio, landing an easy blow to the side of his head that Mary was positive he could have avoided. Boricio moved like a cat even when he was going slow.
    The leader tackled Boricio and they tumbled to the ground in a ballet of fists as they rolled across the grass.
    “Ready?” Mary said. Paola nodded as Luca crawled toward the corner. Mary stood, opened the windows. There were no screens to get out of the way — just nice open space to fire.
    Distracted by the brawl, the three bikers never saw the shots coming as Mary and Paola fired at them.
    All three painted the ground in crimson before managing to fire a single shot. Boricio started to cackle, taking control of the scuffle by climbing on top of the leader’s body and launching both of his fists repeatedly into the man’s pasty face.
    Boricio climbed from the leader’s crumpled body, then turned his face to the window. “Woo-hoo!!!” he screamed. “Too bad every fire department in creation is on permanent retirement, because Team Boricio is on fucking fire!”
    He looked down at the leader’s face, then pointed and laughed, turning back to the window. “Looks like Boricio’s Famous Sloppy Spaghetti!”
    The leader started squirming on the ground. To Mary’s horror, she found herself hoping Boricio would do exactly what he did a moment later.
    Boricio walked over to the leader’s sword, picked it up from the concrete while wearing a giant smile, then walked back to the body and thrust the blade deep into the leader’s chest.
    “100,000 sperm in your daddy’s shot, and you were the fastest?” Boricio howled as a fountain of blood erupted from the leader’s twitching body.
    Boricio turned back to the house and took a bow for his audience.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 9 — Other Ed Keenan

    Ed raced along the dirt road leading to the north side of the island. The moment Sullivan said the infected had been seen in the north end, Ed knew where he had to go — the old monastery tucked inside the woods. He doubted the infected would have gone there — not on their own, anyway — but Williams would have. It was the oldest structure on the island and a historic destination back when the island was public.
    It was the only other place on the island not monitored by Guardsmen. Most newcomers wouldn’t even think to look there, let alone know it existed, which gave Williams the perfect reason to go.
    He had gone rogue. The question was — why? Had he been infected, or did Williams now feel differently about their research? He knew Williams and Will had gone head to head a few times during the past few years, most notably following what happened last summer. Whatever the case, the doctor was the most likely suspect in the escape of the infected. Ed prayed he hadn’t gone after Will Bishop.
    If Will was dead then everyone else on the island was doomed. Though Will had been getting increasingly more unstable since October, he was the only one on the island who was able to understand — and predict — some of the things that were happening.
    Ed cut the lights before he parked the truck, deciding to go the rest of the way on foot. He grabbed an AR-15 from the back of the truck, along with five clips, which he slid into his tactical vest. He then made sure the sphere was safely tucked in his pocket before setting off into the woods, using the light clipped onto the rifle to guide him.
    He was about 40 yards from the old brick two-story structure — overgrown with trails of vegetation creeping up and along its moss-covered walls, but otherwise still standing after more than a century spent mostly abandoned. The wooden front door had been replaced a few years earlier as part of a restoration project.
    It was now open.
    Ed slowly approached, his gun and light aimed at the threshold. He was about 20 feet from the doorway when he spotted movement to his right. He almost jumped, nearly squeezing the trigger as he raised his rifle. Somehow, he managed to remain steady and keep himself from sending a bullet into what turned out to be only a white cloth strip either stuck to — or tied — to a branch.
    Surrender?
    Ed glanced at the open door again, searching for a sign of either Williams or Will Bishop.
    Seeing nothing, Ed stepped through the doorway and into the darkness, ears perked, careful to move silently.
    Moonlight spilled in from the open windows and into the main room, painting four large