Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone)

about your dreams,” Mary said, bluntly. There was no time for sparing Will’s feelings when her child’s life might be in danger. “Not anymore. I want out. I want to feel safe! The world’s full of monsters, but that doesn’t mean I have to sleep in their house. I don’t want to raise my child, or Luca, anywhere near these wackos.”
    “ Religious wackos,” Desmond added.  
    “Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t make it wacko,” Will said. “Religion isn’t evil just on account of it being religion.”
    “You’re a man of science, Will.” Desmond shook his head. “You don’t believe in the religious shit these people are peddling, do you? And who the hell is this guy to claim himself ‘The Prophet?’”  
    “I don’t think science and religion are mutually exclusive. I don’t have to believe in a big man with a long beard to see that there’s order in the chaos, that there could be an architect of creation. And if someone, or something, whether it be God or something else, is revealing the future to me in my dreams, then maybe the same thing is true for The Prophet. Maybe his world is dictated by things he’s seen, or whoever made certain he saw them.”
    Will stood from the bench and started pacing, like he usually did after sitting for more than five minutes straight. “Let’s give God a rest from the conversation. This isn’t about Him. Let’s agree, at least for the length of this conversation, that there’s more to life than the physical existence we’re living in right now. Let’s say there’s an underlying reality where energy, and maybe consciousness, can give birth to particles and matter. If that’s true, it would mean you could basically push yourself into forever.”
    Mary stared blankly at Will, not sure where he was going with this.  
    Will turned from Desmond to her and said, “I’ll melt some ice in the theory so it’s easier to drink. Has Paola ever played video games?”
    “Sure,” Mary said.
    “She have a favorite?”
    “Yeah, she loved the Zelda games.”
    Will said, “That’s Nintendo, right? With the elf kid in green with the big sword, right?” The memory of the game made Mary smile. She nodded, then Will went on. “Someone, or a group of people, thought up the game. Then it existed, right? I mean, sure, you had coders and artists and everyone else who made it reality, but it didn’t exist until it did, and it was the idea that made it happen. Once that world is built, it’s there forever. Now, I’m not some old man off his rocker who thinks Toy Story is a docudrama; I’m merely trying to draw an analogy. What if we can create worlds to inhabit? What if we are doing so right now, and we don’t even realize it?”  
    “That’s a weak analogy,” rebuffed Desmond. “Even if it comes close to explaining an afterlife, which is what I think you’re getting at, it doesn’t come anywhere near an explanation for the fairytales and illusion of organized religion.”
    “Sure, my beliefs may be fed by a longing to fly past my death,” Will conceded, “but that right there is the place where science and I split for a while. Science likes to give a finger to faith because it’s only looking for truth. But that’s forgetting the fact that faith is an egg until a new truth hatches. Name one scientific discovery that didn’t start with an unsubstantiated belief? Wasn’t too long ago when an atom couldn't be split.”
    Mary said, “And Pluto used to be a planet.”
    “That it did.” Will laughed, then continued. “Maybe space and distance are only illusions. It’s just the way things look to us since we can’t see, or fathom, the larger construct that is reality. It’s like how the colorblind can never know the true of a red. People claiming to know God might know there’s something out there, because they feel it, like breath in the air. And maybe religion is the only name they’ve got for it, so they sculpt it in their own image, with their own prejudices and laws and such, but it’s something to believe in. It may be a light year from the truth, but it’s the closest they know. If science can’t accept that religion might be more than fairytales and magic tricks, well, that’s its own shortcoming. Or was. I’m keeping an open mind, though. I’ve seen too much, been through too much, not to. I don’t know what’s guiding me, but I know what happens when I start to doubt it or fail to heed the