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

warnings.”

    Desmond said, “Listen, I respect your mind, Will. You and I agree on a lot of things, and I appreciate all you’ve done for us. But we need to start thinking more logically and less superstitiously. Mary is right; we need to get the hell out of here ASAP.”
    “That’s not what I’m doing at all,” started Will. But Desmond didn’t let him finish.
    “You talk about science, and offer respect for scientific research. But right now you sound like a man of faith, not science; a man of faith who doesn’t subject his irrational beliefs to the same scrutiny he would a controlled experiment or peer review. That’s all fine, as long as you’re not trying to convince me there’s science behind your dreams.”
    “There’s science behind everything,” parleyed Will.  
    “Forget science then,” Desmond’s voice was showing his impatience. “Why are you looking for something outside your physical existence in the first place? Do you know something about physical limits that we don’t? Why do you need more than physical reality? Fire, water, glass; wind, rain and snow; human touch, laughter, sex. The physical world is all around us; don’t you think that’s magic enough already? Aren’t the millions of years of evolution, countless species in an impossible number of variations, and the inarguable intelligence of man enough for you?”
    “Sure they are,” Will smiled, “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a whole helluva lot more.”  
    Now Mary was standing, her stomach turning again, a cold sweat on her brow. “I’m sure you two could argue forever, but we need to make up our minds, do we stay here or do we...”
    That was when John appeared from nowhere. “You’re not thinking of leaving now, are you?” he said, quickly approaching the bench until he was standing a few feet from the group. “The Prophet has let you into his home. I can’t imagine he would take kindly to your sudden departure.” John smiled, and after a few seconds, he nodded, then walked off in the other direction.

    **  

    Mary wasn’t sure if it had been John’s sudden appearance or something else that had sent her scurrying up the stairs and into the bathroom,   but that’s where she’d been sitting since, sick as a dog.  

    * * * *

EDWARD KEENAN: PART 1

    Ed glanced over at Brent Foster sitting shotgun next to him as they sped toward Georgia in a world without speed limits, hunting a man named Boricio.
    Did I choose the right ally in Brent? Does he have what it takes to see this through till the end?  
    Brent’s lack of combat training didn’t exactly make him the kind of guy you’d want beside you in the field. But he was passionate, almost impossibly so. And there was something about him that made Ed trust him immediately, even if Brent were contemplating some sort of attack against him or someone else high ranking at Black Island.  
    Who could blame him? He was willing to do whatever he needed to protect his family, even if they’d been reduced to zombies. And protecting them was tantamount to suicide. Ed could understand, if not respect, that sort of foolish dedication.
    As one desolate town piled on top of another, Brent grew uncharacteristically quiet. He was probably lost in thoughts, perhaps dealing with feelings of guilt over giving up on the creatures that were parallels of his wife and son. Though they were alternate versions of his family,   he clearly felt for them. But they weren’t his true family, and they couldn't be saved. The scientists at Black Island Research Facility were conducting their secret experiments, something the Ed Keenan of this world — his parallel —   told him was for the greater good. When the government said something was for “the greater good,” it usually meant someone was going to die. That was the way of the world, a reality Ed was no stranger to. He’d participated in many dubious acts, ostensibly for the “greater good.” He’d believed in his missions and government, until they turned on him.
    Had that also been for the greater good?
    Ed tried not to dwell on a past that would only serve to pull him from his present mission, a mission for the “greater good,” of course.
    Finally, Brent broke a few hours of silence. “So, Captain, what is it about this Boricio guy that has you so charged up?”  
    “I don’t know, and call me Ed. None of this Captain shit when we’re not on base.”
    “Okay, Ed. So, there’s got to be