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

as he wiped the spit away with his sleeve, and allowed the buckle to fall as the belt uncoiled from his hand like a whip.
    Desmond braced for the whipping, but Rei turned instead to Luca, and swung, hard, hitting Luca in the head.
    Luca screamed, blood seeping from a wound in his temple.  
    Rei turned to Carl, and whipped him, the buckle slashing Carl across the left cheek.
    Rei took another swing, this time hitting Carl in the chest, then turned back on Luca and began lashing at him, leaving bright red marks and dark trails of blood criss-crossing Luca’s chest.  
    Luca writhed in pain, crying out.
    “Stop it!” Desmond screamed, as Rei kept whipping the boy, now on his sixth lashing.
    Luca was in tears, begging Rei to stop.
    “Please!” Desmond cried out, defeated, tears running down his face. “Please!”
    Rei turned slowly to Desmond as he began to slide the belt back through the loops in his pants, “Don’t you ever disrespect me, or The Sanctuary, again, or I will bring your bitch in here next, and her child. And I’ll teach you to fear the Good Lord’s wrath.”
    Rei punched Desmond a final time, under the left ribs, and Desmond wailed.
    Rei spun around, pulled the chain dangling from the light fixture, and cast the room into darkness. He marched up the stairs, opened the door, then slammed it shut and locked it, leaving Desmond alone with his pain and the sobbing from Luca and Carl.
    I will fucking kill you.

    * * * *

BRENT FOSTER: PART 1

    Milner, Georgia
    March 24, 2011
    morning

    Brent and Ed raced up the hotel stairwell as aliens exploded through the doors downstairs.
    “You got a plan?” Brent panted, out of breath and trailing Ed, despite being almost a decade younger.
    “Nope,” Ed said cooly, continuing until the stairs ended at the top floor, well lit by the skylight in the center of the hotel’s roof.
    Before Brent could ask what they were doing next, Ed handed him his shotgun and was halfway up the ladder leading to the rooftop.
    He waited below as Ed pushed the hatch open.  
    The echoes of aliens screeching, clicking, and clambering up the stairway made the stairwell sound like a living, breathing death trap of madness. Brent’s heart raced as he handed Ed’s gun back and started climbing the ladder.
    Go, go, go, go!
    He hoped to God he’d reach the top and close the hatch before the aliens caught up to him.
    Brent hauled himself onto the roof, and rolled out of the way as Ed glanced down with his shotgun, then softly closed the hatch.  
    Ed stayed down, surveying the shopping center parking lot. The hotel was the tallest building in the plaza at 12 stories high, and they were smack dab in the middle of the roof. If they stayed low enough, they wouldn’t be seen by the aliens that might still be in the parking lot.
    “What now?” Brent asked, “Can they climb ladders?”
    “Probably not, nor do I think they’ll realize we’re up here, unless they hear us.”
    “And if they do?” Brent asked, “What then?”
    “Then we hope we don’t run out of ammo before we kill them all.”
    Brent pulled his pistol from his waistband and looked at it, wishing he’d thought to bring a rifle or shotgun before the kid stole their bag of weapons. There were five bullets left in the cartridge.  
    Fuck.
    “Come here,” Ed said, “let's get away from the door, so they don’t smell us. Step softly.”
    Brent followed Ed toward a large room on top of the roof, which Brent figured was probably the utility room for the hotel. They leaned against the wall and waited for the roof hatch to pop open.

    After an uneventful half hour or so, Brent broke the silence that had stretched between them, “So, how long until we can go back down there?”
    “I dunno,” Ed said, “I’d wait until morning.”
    “You want us to stay up here all day and night?”
    “You got somewhere else to be?”
    Brent sighed, and shook his head, now wishing he’d thought to bring some pillows and blankets with him, too.
    “I’m sorry about the kid stealing our shit,” Brent said, even though he wasn’t sure why Ed was pissed at him. It wasn’t his fault that they were robbed.
    Ed didn’t say anything, simply stared at the sky, deep in thought, or something.
    “Where do you think the kid went? Think he’s still somewhere in the hotel?” Brent asked.
    “If he is, he’s gonna need those weapons.”
    “Maybe he came up to the roof,” Brent suggested, thinking that maybe he was in the utility room