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

lowered his hands, then held one out for the man with the gun. “My name is Tom, by the way, Tom Westin.”
    The gun was still between Boricio’s eyes, but the asshole’s hand was already getting heavy. “Jenna, I got my gun on him. I’m gonna need you to make sure he’s clean.”
    Boricio shook his head and laughed. “I’m afraid I’m far from clean, been a long stretch since I felt a hot shower. I’m sure I’m ripe and sorry all over the place for that, but you’re welcome to get as close as you need, to make sure I’m safe.”
    Jenna, the brunette, appeared from behind the doorway. She looked good behind the binoculars, but goddammit if she didn’t look a heaping helping of tasty pussy salad standing just a few feet away.  
    Jenna frisked him up and down; Boricio apologized for his smell, which she said was nothing at all and that he smelled a whole lot better than she would if she hadn’t cleaned herself in that long. There was a chirpy laugh from behind the door, followed by a “That’s the truth!”  
    The rifle slowly fell from between Boricio’s eyes until it was pointed at the hardwood floor. Its handler said, “I’m Jesse,” then held his hand out for Boricio. “It’s good to meet you, Tom.” He opened the door wider to the sandy blond standing on the other side. “This is Tanya.”
    “Nice to meet you,” Tanya said.  
    Boricio smiled. “Thanks so much. It’s good to finally see someone else. I worked construction before all this. I’m used to good folks, great conversation and constant noise. The quiet’s been killing me.”
    “Well come on in,” Jesse said. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and fill your belly with a lot more than a can of meat.”
    Too fucking easy .  
    Boricio was careful to keep the saunter from his step, entering the oversized living room with shoulders hunched, which was how he’d stay until it was time to make the layup. It was a bad time to be stupid, people being an endangered species and all.  
    “I’m glad you’re hungry,” Jenna said. “It’s my turn to cook and I make amazing pasta.”  
    “That’s all you make,” Tanya said.
    Jenna led Boricio upstairs and to a bathroom where he could clean up, then showed him to a room where he was welcome to stay “at least for the night.” There was a closet of clean mens clothes about Boricio’s size. Jenna told him to help himself, then headed back downstairs. He was upstairs for a while, trying to glean as much information as he could, which amounted to approximately dick. But he figured he’d have plenty of time to dig later after the fuckforall. Once clean, Boricio went downstairs where Jenna led him to the kitchen table, sat him down and started fattening him up immediately.  
    The bitch wasn’t kidding; her pasta was a fat plate of fuck-yeah. He could’ve made better, though maybe not anymore considering ingredients were scarce. It wasn’t like fresh tomatoes or cream were falling from the sky. Considering it was winter at the end of the world, the sauce was damn fantastic, but Boricio wished she hadn’t used whatever 21 Season Salute had shit the sauce, since he tasted a touch of anise, and it clearly wasn’t right for the dish. He was considering asking where the taste of anise was coming from, but Boricio figured it wasn’t the sort of thing a guy like “Tom Westin” would wonder.  
    “This is the best thing I’ve had since my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary last August. I really can’t thank you enough,” Boricio said, gobbling pasta and thinking of a half dozen or so ways he could show his appreciation, though there wasn’t really much variety. Everything he thought of had some sort of sticky ending.  
    Then again, Boricio could always use more able bodied men on Team Boricio. But Jesse didn’t seem like much of a hunter given his shitastic instincts to let some rogue like “Tom Westin” in the front door, so Boricio would have to end his days here. Plus, Boricio had had enough disappointment with his team making piss poor decisions lately. No more minor leaguers on Team Boricio!
    Fortunately for Boricio’s mood, Jenna didn’t seem too cautious at all. She wanted what Tom Westin had in his pants, and Boricio could smell it. He could’ve had her, even before his shower, but Boricio knew she’d be much tastier later, after Jesse was out of the way.  
    “How long have you been here?” Boricio asked between mouthfuls.
    “Since the beginning,”