Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone)
into him hard. The knife slipped from Charlie’s hand and fell to the ground.
Click, click, click.
The creature scurried toward the fallen blade.
Charlie couldn’t afford to lose his only weapon. He screamed and dove to the cold muddy ground, launching himself into the creature and sending it veering off course. Miraculously, Charlie wound up next to his knife. He grabbed it just as the creature recovered itself, stood and shrieked, opening its mouth wide to reveal its rows of horribly jagged teeth, like the charred maw of an alien wolf.
The creature leaped up, at least 10 feet high, then fell on top of Charlie hard, raising a clawed hand.
Charlie thrust his knife up quickly into the creature’s androgynous crotch. The creature unleashed an ear-piercing scream and collapsed to the ground, twitching. Adrenaline coursing his every vein, Charlie rolled over, hopped onto the creature’s slick, wet body, and brought his blade down into its chest, head, and eyes with repeated ferocity.
“Die! Die! Die!” he screamed as the creature’s black blood spurted from the holes Charlie peppered in its flesh. He kept stabbing until the creature was nothing more than a mangled, shuddering mess.
“I think it’s dead,” Adam said, approaching Charlie cautiously, tail between his legs. Charlie was sick of Adam’s dead weight and scared puppy routine. He was pissed and wanted to lash out at something, and right now; kicking a scared puppy seemed like a great idea. He fought the urge, got up, and started walking away before he took out his rage on Adam.
“Where you going?” Adam called, but Charlie ignored him, walking into the fog with no idea where the hell he was headed.
**
Charlie found the highway, or where the highway had been before the tornado tore it to nothing. The fog was still soup-thick; he couldn’t see far enough to figure which way was which, so he simply started walking along the broken path of where the highway had been, hoping it would lead them back to Boricio HQ. Adam was following him, though at a distance, likely afraid to get too close and rekindle the fire of Charlie’s anger.
After 20 minutes, the road appeared, in chunks of asphalt at first, then the full road. Ten minutes later, Charlie saw a sign indicating he was traveling South, which was the right direction. The fog had cleared, replaced by a light gray sky. Soon, the lightest drizzle of snow started to descend from the heavens.
If there is still a Heaven.
Shivering and damp from the storm, Charlie continued forward, hoping to locate a usable vehicle. And soon. He kept walking, freezing, teeth chattering, with every muscle in his body on fire. He’d been surviving on anger alone, but that anger wouldn’t carry him much farther. They had to be at least 60 miles away from HQ, if not more. No way he’d make it that far in his present condition. And if he was going to save Callie, he had to get back. Boricio would know what to do. Boricio always had an answer.
He’d find the fuckers who took Callie. They’d regret fucking with Team Boricio.
His mind erupted with images of the unholy hell Boricio would rain down upon them. Charlie couldn’t help but smile.
**
Time eventually lost all bearing. It seemed like forever since he’d seen any sign of civilization. The snow was falling harder, and was nearly as thick as the fog had been, his visibility compromised yet again.
We have to find a car. Soon.
The thought of “we” caused Charlie to turn around, and look back for Adam. But Adam was gone.
Fuck him. Better off without him slowing me down.
Charlie pivoted back and kept walking.
Just as he did, he saw something in the distance, maybe a car in the road. His languishing heart found traction and sped up, as did his feet, fueled by fresh hope. When he reached the car, an old maroon Caddie, he nearly screamed in joy. He looked back for Adam on impulse, to tell him the good news, but Adam still wasn’t there.
Oh well.
He opened the car door and found keys in the ignition.
Yes!
He turned the key.
Nothing.
Shit!
He turned it again.
Still nothing.
Yes, the keys had been in the ignition, but the car had also been left on, meaning it ran dry of gas and exhausted its battery long ago.
“Fuck!” he screamed as he slammed his fists against the steering wheel.
Instant pain from fist to shoulder was the prize for his loss of control. Anger wasn’t going to magically turn the engine, nor keep
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