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

used the store as a trap. They were waiting for our men when they got there, hiding the entire time. They only struck when they had the full advantage. It was a perfectly plotted ambush.”
    Mary stood there, silent, and in shock.
    Scott was dead. He was still just a child, and he was murdered by the monsters. Just as Jimmy had been. The Prophet, as misguided as he was, had been right about one thing: this place was the only sanctuary she’d seen that the monsters had yet to breach.
    “The Demons are growing stronger,” Brother Rei said.
    “No one is a firmer believer in the power of prayer than The Devil; not that he practices it, but because he suffers from it. I suggest we close our eyes and pray that we are able to preserve the safety behind the walls of The Sanctuary The Good Lord has seen fit to give us.”
    He took Mary’s left hand, and Brother Rei took her right. They closed their eyes and lowered their heads as Mary stood and pretended to pray along with them, even though every fiber inside her wanted to run.  

    **

    Mary picked at her dinner, which was an hour and a half later than usual, shuffling the potatoes around on her plate and scooping small forkfuls into her mouth, just enough so she wouldn’t appear unappreciative of all the Good Lord had given them. She chewed with no pleasure and swallowed with less, each bite counting the minutes until she could speak with Desmond and Will again.
    After dinner, the three of them gathered in the garden, where they spoke in swift whispers. Mary updated them, then shook her head. “I just don’t know anymore. It’s not that I think this place is safe, because I don’t. And The Prophet’s little talk designed to make me feel safer only made me want to run farther and faster. But I can’t ignore what’s happening outside. It sounds like it’s getting worse, and I’m not sure we can handle it out there alone.”
    Will said, “We shouldn't forget, we’d all be dead right now if it wasn’t for the people here at The Sanctuary. Before John and his crew came in like The Cavalry, I was taking shots from the top of a silo with a few bullets to go and an army of crazy bleakers flooding through the gates.”
      Mary looked at Desmond, who was clearly swallowing his every other thought. It was tough to argue with the truth of Will’s words, and Desmond dared not. Not now.
    Mary said, “Scott didn’t have to die. That is tragic and unnecessary. And I could never live with myself if something we could’ve prevented happens to Paola or Luca, or either one of you guys.”
    Desmond looked at Mary. “Will you be able to forgive yourself if The Prophet shaves Paola’s hair and throws her in a box?” Mary wasn’t sure if Desmond meant his words to sound as icy as they had, but she must have looked upset because he immediately said, “I’m sorry.”
    Mary didn’t say anything, but she slipped her hand into Desmond’s. Will said, “I’m with you, Mary. I’d never forgive myself either, and I’m the one pushing hardest to stay. So I say we sleep on it. You said His Holy Worship has given us three days to decide, so I say we take three days to decide. Let’s hit the hay and talk in the morning. The walls have ears and right now they’re likely tuned to our conversation. Early to bed, early to rise; we’ve a funeral in the morning, a wretched surprise.”
    “Thank you, Dr. Seuss,” Desmond said.  
    The trio said good night. Mary returned to her room and tucked Paola in for the night before slipping beneath the stiff sheets of her hard bed, where she tossed and turned for hours, thinking about everything from Desmond to escape.
    Everything felt wretched, and none of it right. They were all in grave danger if they left. She knew it like she knew that water was wet. Yet as certain as she was, she had no idea what to do. How long could they live at The Sanctuary before the cult came to punish one of them for some imagined sin?
      And then there was the guilt, lying in bed with a dull ache between her legs, wanting nothing more than to have Desmond fill it. They’d not managed to sneak off a single time together, and as sad as it was to admit, they were both afraid of what would happen if they were caught. Mary was too goddamn old to feel like she was in high school, and she shouldn't have to bury her needs. She was wet and hungry, laying face down, filled with guilt for thinking about Desmond inside her, even though young Scott, barely old enough