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

one of you fuckers unless you send One-Eye out. You got to the count of three! One . . . Two . . .”
    A bald guy in his late 40‘s, with an eyepatch, came out of the smoke, hesitantly.
    “And circle gets the square!” Boricio said, smiling.
    One-Eyed Willy stood in front of Boricio, shaking. Boricio kicked his feet from under him, sending the bald man to his knees. Vic and Charlie tied the man’s ankles and arms while Boricio sang nursery rhymes, starting with Itsy Bitsy Spider .
    Boricio threw One-Eyed Willy into the back of the van while flames spread and smoke billowed out of the warehouse.  
    “Okay, we got what we came for,” Boricio said into the megaphone, “Olly-olly oxen free, you can all come out now. If I see any guns, I’m gonna assume you’re hostile and will shoot you. So come out, with your hands up, if you want to live.”
    Men, women, and children poured from the warehouse, hands up.  
    Boricio, Charlie, and Vic kept their guns aimed and ready.
    “Is that everyone?” Boricio asked, speaking through the megaphone at the 25 or so people in front of them.
    A chorus of heads nodded yes.
    “Good,” Boricio said, and turned to Vic and Charlie with a smile.
    “Kill the men.”
    Boricio and Vic opened fire as the women and children screamed, helpless.
    A woman scooped up a young girl and headed to the tree-line. Vic trained his rifle on them and took aim.
    Charlie stepped in front of the rifle, “What the fuck?!”
    “Outta my way, boy!” Vic screeched.
    Charlie stepped aside. As Vic took aim, Charlie pressed his pistol against Vic’s head. “Let them go.”
    With all the men now dead, Boricio turned his attention to the scene brewing between Charlie and Vic and smiled.
    Boy had balls; was just takin’ a bit longer for them drop was all.
    Vic’s eyes were bulging, rage coursing through him as he glared at Charlie. “You best put that fucking gun down.”
    “Now, now,” Boricio said, “Can’t Daddy leave you two alone for a second?”
    “You said just the men,” Charlie said, looking back at the woman and child running into the woods. “He’s trying to shoot them.”
    “Let ‘em go, Vic. They won’t last five minutes once they run into monsters, anyway.”
    Vic smiled at that, and Charlie swallowed, putting his gun down.
    Vic refused to break Charlie’s stare.
    “Come on, boys, we’ve gotta head back home,” Boricio said, putting an arm around Charlie’s neck and leading him back to the truck. Vic sat in the back with the prisoner and Charlie took the passenger seat up front. As they drove away, Charlie stared into the rearview as fire engulfed the warehouse.

    **

    Back at the compound, Boricio marched One-Eyed Willy into the kitchen at gunpoint where Adam, Harry, and Callie were sitting at the table, drinking.
    Boricio dropped the man down in a chair and then went to the butcher block, retrieved a large knife and slid it across the table to Adam.  
    “Give him a second smile, right there below his chin.”
    The bald man’s eye widened and he cried out something incoherent behind the rag stuffed in his mouth and taped over.
    Adam’s lip quivered, then he shrunk back. “I can’t do that Mr. Boricio,” he said.  
    “Do you think this fucking summer camp, boy? This is Camp Boricio and fun time is over. You created this problem. You end it. I’m getting a bit goddamned sick and tired of having to be the only one around here with the guts to do what needs to be done.”
    One-Eyed Willy started to cry.  
    Adam looked at Callie and Henry who were both staring at the prisoner.  
    Boricio turned to Charlie who was standing at the entrance of the kitchen.  
    “Well, if Adam can’t do it, maybe you’ll pull the tampon out long enough to take care of business.”
    Vic snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right.”
    Charlie stomped over, grabbed the knife from Adam, pulled One-Eyed Willy’s head back, widening his eye into shock, then slit his throat.
    Charlie left his hand under the man’s throat as blood pumped out in hot spurts. He glared at Boricio and then at Vic, then shoved the blade deep into the bald man’s skull,   and stomped out of the room.

    * * * *

7 - RYAN OLSON PART 2

    Ryan watched the front end as the post-dinner rush died down and nightfall turned the parking lot black. They’d be storming in any minute now, guns drawn. He might not be able to do anything about it, but he could at least minimize the risk of shit going bad.
    He glanced at Clarissa,