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

lab rats. A chill ran down Brent’s spine as he thought of the Gina and Ben of this world now being probed by Black Island’s scientists, assuming they were still alive.  
    He thought of Ben’s parallel, still more human than not, clinging to his infected mother, while she, who was more progressed in her transformation, shunned him. The pain the child must’ve felt soured Brent’s heart as if it were his son.
    But it’s not. Stop thinking like that, or you’ll never get back to them.
    “Think it’s safe to leave now, or you still want to wait until morning?” Brent asked.
    “I think we should get some rest,” Ed said. “I don’t wanna go down there while it’s dark. The good thing is, we can both sleep. Not much chance of them sneaking up on us up here.”
    “First, I have to piss,” Brent said, and walked over to the other side of the utility room to take a piss he’d been holding in for far too long.
    He was thirsty and his stomach was growling. The shopping center in the plaza was so close, yet at 12 stories below, so far. He couldn’t wait to hit it in the morning. Assuming they made it through the night.

    **

    Brent woke to the sound of distant laughter.
    He jolted awake to the blinding morning sun and reached for his pistol. He found it, and turned to see Ed already on his feet, shotgun in hand, inching toward the edge of the roof in an impossibly low crouch to find the source of the sound.
    “What is it?” Brent asked.
    “Well, lookee here. Seems our little thief came back to the scene of the crime.”
    Brent looked down and saw the dirty looking child walking with a woman with long brown hair wearing jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket. She was holding a shotgun slung over her shoulder, no doubt one of theirs. They were checking car handles, and were five cars away from Ed’s van.
    “No, no, no,” Ed said, racing to the hatch. “I’ll be damned if they take our ride, too.”
    Brent followed, woefully behind, as Ed raced down the stairs like a man possessed.  
    Ed reached the shattered front doors just as Brent was stepping into the lobby. Ed raced out, gun aimed, “Get the hell away from there!”
    Shit , Brent thought, pushing himself to catch up. When he did, he was caught in a standoff with everyone, except himself, aiming guns at one another. Brent raised his pistol and aimed at the kid since Ed had his shotgun aimed at the woman. He hoped he wouldn’t have to shoot a child, even if he was a rotten thief.
    “We want our weapons back,” Ed demanded.
    “What weapons?” the woman said.
    “To start with, the one you’re holding, and then the rest of the bag the brat stole from us.”
    “I’m not a brat!” squealed the kid in a bratty voice.
    “They’re not yours,” the woman said, her eyes hidden behind shades, which made Brent think of Sarah Connor, hunting terminators. “You looted ‘em, same as anyone. Everything is fair game, now. Go find another gun shop.”
    “They’re ours,” Ed said sharply, “we're with the government. Those are government-issued weapons and ammunition, and you taking them is a federal crime. Believe me when I say you don’t want to cross the government now, unless you want to wind up dead or in a cell. And the courts are a bit backed up, what with the lack of judges and juries these days.”
    The woman stared, “Who are you with?”
    “Homeland Security, and I’m going to give you five seconds to put down your weapons, or we’ll shoot you both.”
    “How do I know. . .” the woman began to ask, but her voice was severed by Ed.
    “Five.”
    “Wait; how do I know you’re who you say you are? You got a badge or something?”
    “Four.”
    The child looked nervous and blinked, looking at the woman, “What do we do?”
    “Three.”
    “Wait,” the woman said again, “I want. . .”
    “Two,” Ed said, “Put the fucking guns down now!”
    The woman lowered her gun and placed it on the ground, and the kid followed.
    “Get the guns,” Ed instructed Brent. “Now tell us where the rest are.”
    “They’re in the grocery store over there, where we’ve been hiding out,” the woman said. “I’m sorry; we didn’t mean to take your stuff.”
    As Brent grabbed the weapons, Ed squeezed off a shot at the kid.
    The bullet sailed just past him, but caused him to scream.
    “Next time you steal from me, I won’t miss.” Ed said.
    “Hey!” the woman yelled, “I said we’re sorry! You don’t have to be such a