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

what I know.”
    “What about you?” Boricio turned to Brent.
    “I only know what Ed told me,” Brent said.
    “Tell me, how many others are on the island?” Boricio asked.
    “A few hundred,” Ed answered, being purposefully vague. “Led by a civilian President, Andre Pembrook, a figurehead put in place to help keep the people in line. I’m not sure who’s really pulling the strings, if it’s my double, or someone above him I’ve not yet met.”
    “And how many of those are native to this world?”
    “Six that I know of,” Ed said.
    “Do you know their names?”
    “Well, there’s Keenan, and a man named Sullivan was one of them. Not sure if that’s his first or last name.”
    “It’s both, actually,” Boricio asked. “His parents had an odd sense of humor. A sense of humor which skipped at least one goddamn generation,” he looked at Ed, “in case he was putting on a nice show for you while you were there.”
    “No,” Ed shook his head. “He didn’t strike me as a good-time Charlie.”
    “Anyone else?” Boricio asked.
    “Introductions were sparse,” Ed said. “Anyone in particular you’re wondering about?”
    “Do you know if a man named Will survived?”
    “Will Bishop?” Ed said.
    Boricio’s face lit up. “Yes. He’s there?”
    “He’s one of the scientists, or a consultant to the scientists, whatever, but I’ve not met him.”
    Boricio whispered to himself, “Oh God, he’s alive,” but Ed wasn’t sure if he was relieved or saddened by the news.
    “What about a boy? Luca?”
    “Doesn’t ring a bell,” Ed said. “I think the others were all scientists. They were in a room or something which somehow spared them.”
    Boricio’s eye grazed the top of his desk.
    Ed wondered what in the hell had happened, how Boricio knew these people — he must’ve been from there — and most of all, why in the hell Black Island was looking for Boricio’s twin rather than the man from their own world.
    Ed asked, “Why are you looking for the other Boricio?”
    “To try and right some wrongs,” he said. “You two interested in helping?”
    “That depends,” Ed held Boricio’s gaze. “Can you help me get my daughter from Black Island? They’re holding her, kind of forcing me to find Boricio in exchange for her return.”
    “Wow, they’re taking this shit seriously,” Boricio said. “Guess I can’t blame them. Though I’m curious how they know he’s here, and why they think he can help them.”
    Ed asked, “So, can you help me get my daughter, her friend, and possibly her friend’s baby to safety?”
    “Well, if you can help get me on Black Island, I can help you once we’re there.”
    “Sounds like a deal,” Ed said.
    “Yes, but first we have to get the other Boricio.”
    “You know where he is?” Ed asked.
    “No, but I have two people here that do.”
    “Why do you think they sent me to look for him rather than you?” Ed asked.
    “I’m not sure,” Boricio shook his head. “But I think it has something to do with Luca.”
    Ed wanted to ask Boricio more, but knew he wouldn’t answer. Ed had known too many men who lived with an army of skeletons hiding miles of secrets. The man on the other side of the desk looked like he could’ve been their General.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 3 — Luca Harding

    Dunn, Georgia
    Boricio’s Compound
    March 2012
    FIVE MONTHS AFTER THE EVENT…

    In his dream, Luca was a child again.
    He was back home, it was the middle of the night, and he was pushing the door to his parent’s bedroom open, peeking into the darkness. They were still sleeping. He crept into the room, then stumbled on something in the middle of the floor.
    He expected to hear his mom or dad yell, “Luca!” since that’s what always happened when he woke them up by being loud. Nothing but silence greeted him, however.
    Just as Luca regained his balance, he tripped on something else, sending his body into an awkward ballet. He twisted toward the foot of the bed, and smashed his side hard against the wood frame.
    Luca heard the loud thrump-bdddd-rumps as whatever he kicked — his dad was always leaving his shoes in the middle of the room — rolled across the floor before coming to a stop.
    Luca cried out, holding his side from the bed’s assault, but fortunately, they had slept through his whine.
    Luca climbed onto the bed, then crept up toward the front, squeezing his body in between his mother and father.
    As he nudged his way toward the top, he noticed