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

The Prophet didn’t flinch, but walked out of The Sanctuary and into the woods. He looked up to the sky as it started to snow. He opened his mouth, and let out a shrill scream — his call to the things that were an extension of himself.
    Come feast. The time is now.

    * * * *

DESMOND ARMSTRONG: PART 3

    Rei shoved Mary and Paola down to the ground at gunpoint, forcing them to kneel in the center of the room, next to Linc, as they cried. Peter, Carl, and Boricio stood behind Rei, guns ready.
    Rei pushed the pistol into Linc’s temple. Mary winced, then shuddered. “Tell me who the others are,” he said. “All of them. Now.”  
    “I don’t know anything,” Linc cried. “I swear.”
    Rei clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. That’s the wrong answer, Brother Linc.”
    “You’re not gonna get anything from him, because he doesn’t know anything to tell you!” Desmond screamed. “No one here trusts us enough to tell us anything!”
    “Tell me now, or I kill the girl first,” Rei said, without a whisper of apology.
    “I don’t fucking know!” Linc’s voice cracked, tears running down his cheeks.
    “Too bad,” Rei said. He aimed his pistol at the back of Paola’s head, held it steady for a pregnant second, then pulled the trigger, sending a bullet sailing through the back of her head, then exploding out the front of her head.
    Desmond and Luca both screamed “No!” as if they could somehow turn back time and stop the moment from happening.
    “YOU FUCKER!” Desmond screamed, struggling to break free his shackles.
    Paola’s eyes widened at the sight of infinity as her body fell forward, face first into the ground. Mary screamed in anguish, as she crawled toward her daughter and cradled Paola in her arms.  
    Mary looked up from Paola, eyes on fire, then leapt to her feet and charged toward Rei. But he was expecting her. His fist landed in her stomach and his foot on her knee.  
    Mary dropped to the floor, wailing and crying, her pain so animalistic and raw that it tore like a knife through Desmond’s heart.
    Rei took a step toward her, lowering his gun on the way.  
    “No!” Desmond screamed. “She’s pregnant!”
    Rei looked up at Desmond, “Tell me what I want to know. Names. Plans. Now.”
    “I swear,” Desmond said, breaking down, “I don’t know.”
    Rei shook his head, then pulled the trigger, shooting Mary in her stomach. Mary looked up at him and screamed. He put a bullet through her head, ending her anguish and her life. And the life of her unborn child.  
    Their unborn child.
    No!
    Desmond, Luca, and Linc cried in a symphony of shared torment. Linc started to get up, but Peter put his gun in the back of Linc’s skull.
    Outside, a Fourth of July’s worth of gunfire erupted behind a Halloween’s worth of screaming. And then they all heard the unmistakable sound of monsters outside, shrieking, clicking.
    “It’s started,” Rei said. “Well, I guess I don’t need the names any longer.” He turned and headed for the stairs. “Kill them all,” he said to his men. “Including the kid.”
    “This isn’t over,” Desmond screamed. “I’ll tear the life from you, you motherfucker!”
    Rei was already half way up the stairs when Desmond swore he heard the son of a bitch laugh.  
    Peter and Carl took aim at Linc and Luca. Boricio aimed at Desmond.  
    Desmond winced, waiting for the blast and the arrival of death.
    Death didn’t show.
    Desmond opened his eyes a half second later to the sight of Boricio’s hands suddenly divided between two guns. In a ballet that Desmond could barely fathom, Boricio pulled Carl into his hands and knocked Peter to the floor, then kicked Carl in the back of his calf, sending him down in a painful kneel, while he took aim at the Peter.  
    Peter shielded his face and body with his hands, inching backward toward the stairs. Boricio emptied his clip without flinching. Bullets ripped through his flimsy shield of flesh and tore his body to pieces. Boricio dropped the empty gun on the floor, then slammed his fist into Carl’s face, before delivering another blow to his liver.  
    Carl fell doubled over and screaming. Boricio casually walked to the far side of the torture room, retrieved Carl’s dropped gun, aimed it at its former owner, then pulled the trigger twice. Blood pooled through the room, soaking the floor and everything on it, including Desmond’s love and her beautiful daughter.  
    Boricio said, “Brothers love; Boricio 30,”