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

another van, an older Econoline with a full tank of gas, which is what they were driving now.  
    “We gonna find a spot soon?” Carmine asked from the back of the van as they hit a logjam of dead metal, making them backtrack in a snaking line away from the highway.
    “Yeah,” Ryan said, “You all want to find a house, or a hotel?”
    “Whatever’s first,” Gramps said from the back, “I need to use the facilities something fierce.”
    “OK,” Ryan said, getting off the highway and driving into a small nothing town.
    Ryan killed the headlights, and drifted through darkness, not wanting to attract any attention. The main street stretched for a bit before they found anything worth finding — a strip mall. They passed the strip mall, then turned down the first connecting street, searching the neighborhood for homes that looked secure and vacant, finally killing the engine at a cul de sac with 13 houses. They picked the two story house at the end since it offered the best view of the entire street.  
    Ryan pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine, and rolled down his window, listening to the night for sounds of creatures.
    “I remember when the sound of night was like music,” Gramps said, “Back when I was a kid, we used to go to my Grandpa’s house out in the country, and I remember opening the window so I could listen to the crickets sing. To a city kid used to hearing traffic as music, it was almost magical.”
    “Sounds like the magic is gone,” Ryan said, “I haven’t heard crickets, or seen much insect or animal activity, since October. It’s like whatever took the people got greedy and took everything else, too.”
    Gramps started to say something about the rapture and animals, but stopped when something grabbed his attention outside the van.
    “Do you hear that?”
    “What?” Ryan asked, reaching for his pistol, before he heard the sound a second later.
    “A helicopter?” Ryan said, confused. “I haven’t seen one of those since October!”  
    “Let’s flag them down!” Gramps said, “It’s the government, and they’re looking for survivors.”
    Gramps started to open the passenger door, even though he’d have to wait for them to get his wheelchair from the back.
    “Wait, Joe!” Ryan said, “We don’t know for sure who or what they are, or even if they’re looking to help anyone.”
    “Have some faith, boy!” Joe said, “That sounds like a Black Hawk, and that means armed services, or maybe FEMA or something, someone able to help.”
    “Let’s just wait to see if they come closer before we get out of the van. We don’t need to be outside screaming our heads off and attracting the creatures. If they come, I’ll hit the lights and honk the horn to get their attention, if they’re even looking.”
    “OK,” Gramps said, wrinkles crinkling with agitation.  
    Though they’d gotten along well the past three days since Ryan was attacked, Gramps could be on the cranky old man side at times, especially when his blood sugar dropped. It wasn’t like Ryan was feeling himself since the attack, either. Though his body had mended remarkably well from the gunshots and bite wound, and despite feeling stronger than he had in years, he was also feeling irritable with excruciating migraines, which hurt bad enough to make him vomit. Worse was the pain-inducing sounds it seemed that only he could hear. Initially, it sounded like a light ringing in his ears, but then the ringing grew more distinct, like the buzzing of an insect. Dozens, maybe hundreds.  
    The buzzing came and went at random intervals, a few minutes here and there. Usually, it was a minor annoyance. Sometimes the pain was so loud, not in his ears but rather his head, that it was as crippling as the migraines.
    Add to that a lack of a full night’s sleep since they began keeping watch, and it was easy to see why his, and everyone’s, nerves were rawer than usual.
    There was also the little issue of their journey.  
    Ryan had to convince Gramps and Carmine that they couldn’t stay in their apartment any longer, that it was no longer safe now that the monsters had locked onto their location. And while Gramps was a helluva shot, he was disabled and unable to run if necessary, a fatal liability. Gramps resisted at first, headstrong and full of pride. In the end, he relented, admitting that yes, there was definitely strength in numbers.
    But the issue of where they would go was a simmering debate. Gramps