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

can’t be keepin’ an eye on you right now. Maybe next time.”
    Scott’s eyes narrowed behind his thick glasses and under his straw-colored bangs. He opened his mouth to protest, but Linc wasn’t waiting for an answer. And now was obviously a bad time to make a stand. Scott swallowed and held his rifle in the air. “OK, I’ll hang here, make sure the kids stay safe.”
    Linc nodded, slapped Scott on the shoulder, then he and Mary joined Desmond racing towards the gate, 50 or so yards from the house and 200 from the silo at the other end. Two of the dark monsters had broken off from the pack and were circling the silo screeching and clicking at Will, safely out of range, unless one of the creatures started climbing the ladder, which no one had seen them manage to do. Yet.
    The pair of bleakers by the gate turned their oversized black eyes toward Desmond, Linc and Mary, who took steady aim and opened fire, emptying their guns on their way to the barn where they could shoot from more safely. Like the bleakers they’d seen in small clusters over the last couple of weeks, these were faster and able to take more bullets than the ones they’d grown used to. Their mouths, open holes with rows of jagged teeth, were wide open, wailing an unholy clicking shriek which drilled into Mary’s brain like the sound of a baby screaming for its mother.
    “Shit!” Linc screamed at a bleaker who had taken a bullet straight to the face but still kept walking, without half its head; a horrifying first. Linc threw down his rifle and reached into the holster at his belt and grabbed the Glock. He squeezed off three shots until the fucker fell to the ground, twitching and clicking.
    “Inside now!” Linc ushered Desmond and Mary inside the barn, pulling a second pistol from the other holster and firing at the three new bleakers that had appeared from nowhere. Linc, an ace shot, managed to hit the first two in the forehead, then slipped inside the barn and locked the door behind him, but not before he saw something that widened his eyes and sucked the life from his face.
    He stood at the door, frozen, staring at nothing.
    “What is it?” Desmond asked.
    Linc shook his head, not looking at them.  
    “I don’t even know where to start, man. I wanna say there are dozens, but that’s just to make us all warm and fuzzy. Truth is, looks like those giant faced fuckers are oozing out of the forest right now. Definitely the biggest swarm we’ve seen so far. Maybe a hundred of ‘em.”
    Mary looked out the small barn window toward the house, then over at Will – a speck on top of the silo – but said nothing. Everyone knew the only thing guarding the house and the children inside it was an old man standing on top of a silo 600 or so feet away, and Scott, who was little more than a child himself. Stating the obvious wouldn’t help a thing. Besides, even if she opened her mouth, Mary was half-certain all she’d manage was a whimper.  
    Six shots popped through the air in neat succession, exactly two seconds apart. Will pulling the trigger from atop the silo and hitting his targets, by the sound of it. The final shot finished with a thud as a bleaker’s body banged against the side of the barn.  
    Mary found her voice. “We have to get back to the house,” she said. “They’re dead if we don’t.”  
    As if to prove her right, another shot rang loud; closer, from inside the house. Mary looked back out the window. A bleaker was pushing its way in through the front door of the house; another four were thrashing wildly a few feet behind.  
    “Desmond!” Mary threw him a sharp look, but he raised his arms in the air, helpless. They were reloaded, but the barn was surrounded. And with only the one small window facing the silo, they had no idea how bad it was behind them. Judging by the visible clusters storming the gate, and the speed with which the bleakers were moving, opening the barn door would be almost certain suicide.
    “Let’s give it a second, so we can get our bearings.” Desmond’s voice was cool, but his hand was shaking as he cocked the gun.  
    “We don’t have a second Dez!” Mary shrieked, “THEY ARE IN THE HOUSE!”
    Thunder battered the barn from all sides as dozens of bleakers banged against the outside walls. Another round of shots rattled the air and hammered their nerves, while also sending them a sliver of hope as more bleakers fell.
    “It’s now or never,” Desmond said, looking at Linc.