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

their standards, man. You don’t need a lobster dinner when you can fill the pantry with Captain Crunch. Now,” Boricio whispered in Jesse’s ear, “I’m going upstairs to fuck Jenna. I’ll let you know how it is. I suggest you go for Tanya. She’s mousy, but I guaran-fucking-tee she knows how to squeak.”
    Boricio reared his head back and squeaked loudly, “Squeeeeaak, Squeeeeaak!”  
    Jesse said nothing, staring at Boricio as if he’d just shit in the punch bowl.
    “You don’t want her?” Boricio asked, “I understand. No reason I can’t have both. I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”
    Boricio turned toward the door, thinking he might actually let Jesse live if the dude had fun and played ball. Boricio’s hand was on the doorknob when Jesse’s sack got fuller, finally giving Boricio an excuse to make shit a whole lot more fun.  
    Jesse said, “I can’t let you do that.”  
    Boricio laughed. “ Let me? I’m sorry; I wasn’t aware I’d asked. Boricio don’t wait for anyone to let him do shit.”
    Boricio punched Jesse in his throat, murdering speech, then swept his feet out from under him. Jesse fell hard to the snowy ground, the back of his head whiplashing into the stone walkway   but not hard enough to knock him out. That meant more time for Boricio with his new plaything. Boricio crushed the heel of his boot into Jesse’s gut, hard. That left Jesse twitching like an epileptic. Boricio strolled to the bricked-in grill, full saunter, and pulled a large fork from a magnetic strip on the side. He sidled back to Jesse, then made a fountain of blood with a set of holes in his neck.  
    Jesse tried to scream, but Boricio shoved the man’s own fingers in his mouth until he was gagging, vomit trickling through the gaps. Next, he stabbed the fork into the pansy’s other wrist and arm in four locations, effectively crippling the fucker so he couldn’t hit Boricio with his free arm.
    Jesse’s eyes went wide and white, as he desperately struggled to break free. Boricio brought the fork down again and again, stabbing the man in each eye. The pain was so intense, Jesse bit down hard on his fingers, and kicked with his knees and legs, trying to get Boricio off of him. Boricio dropped the fork and pinched the man’s nose, cutting off his last source of air, until he stopped moving.

    Boricio was sporting a helluva throbber, and figured he’d take care of that before dealing with Jesse’s body, so he charged back inside and took the stairs, two at a time. Tanya’s room was on the right so he went there first. Jenna was a sure thing, but Boricio wasn’t sure about Tanya. He’d love nothing more than to bring the full set back to the compound, but if she was a fighter, he’d settle for one.  
    Boricio opened the door to a thundering snore. Tanya was buried beneath the covers, rising and falling in time with her snoring. He closed the door then crossed the hall, passing the stairs on his way to Jenna’s room.  
    There was a slight squeak as the door swung open, but it was dead silent inside. No snoring, no drawn breathing. Only the stillness of nothing. Boricio crept closer to the bed as his eyes adjusted to the dark.  
    Just as Jenna’s shape started to form, she said, “I’ve been waiting for you. What took you so long?” Her voice was breathy and Boricio’s hairy hot dog was begging to get buried in a bun. He slipped into bed and shoved his mouth on hers.  
    Jenna kissed Boricio hard and spun herself on top of his body. She was hot and wet, Boricio could feel it and smell it. He closed his eyes and waited. She could do whatever she wanted. Girls who had waited a long time were always extra juicy, and they knew exactly what they wanted to do.
    Boricio leaned back and closed his eyes, ready for Jenna’s opening act. That’s when he felt the blade at his throat.  
    “Who the fuck are you?” Jenna said.
    Well, FUCK me.
    Boricio edged back against the headboard as Jenna nudged the knife deeper in his flesh. He felt a trickle of blood drizzle down to his collarbone, and registered a rare moment of fear.
    “Who the fuck are you?” she repeated.  
    Boricio tried to speak but he had to swallow, which made his Adam’s Apple nick the knife. Jenna pulled it a centimeter back and said, “Last chance. Who. The fuck. Are you?”
    Boricio had no idea what Jenna had heard, and the throb in his cock was shooting through his body and making it impossible to think clear. He said,