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

appear less of a threat. He considered saying something, but kept his mouth shut and let the boy talk.
    “He was walking me home when these two men came at me with guns. They followed us here and shot at us.”
    “Yeah,” Gramps said, “I heard the racket outside. So, where is it?”
    “Huh?” Carmine asked.
    “Where’s this man’s gun? I heard three guns.”
    “Out in the hallway, sir,” Ryan said.
    “Get it,” Gramps said.  
    Ryan turned, heart in his throat, uncertain what the man intended to do. He retrieved the rifle, returned to the room and handed it to Gramps.
    “A Nosler, eh? Good gun,” Gramps said, turning the rifle over in his hands before handing it back. For a man who didn’t like guns, he had no trouble making out the make and model.
    “I’m not all that familiar with them, myself,” Ryan explained. “I picked it up from an abandoned house for protection. Did some practice shooting; got decent.”
    Gramps stared at Ryan for a moment, as if somehow reading the man’s mind, making sure he was, in fact, safe. Though he felt absurd, Ryan tried to think nice thoughts, and not at all about the robbery at his store, just in case the man could read minds. Of course, trying not to think about the robbery gone South, or the dead bodies, only made them clearer in his mind’s eye. He hoped like hell his smile covered the sick feeling of remembering Clarissa’s body, dead eyes staring up at him.
    “Thank you for looking out for Carmine,” Gramps said, holding out his giant hand, “Name is Joe Turner.”
    “You’re welcome, Mr. Turner, my name is Ryan Olson,” he said, shaking the man’s surprisingly soft hand.
    “Carmine said a lot of nice things about you,” Ryan said, trying to be nice without kissing the man’s ass too much. Guys like Joe couldn’t stand a sycophant.  
    Joe ignored the compliment, asked Carmine to shut the door, and invited Ryan to have a seat in the living room. Carmine handed Joe the medicine, which Joe looked at, then thanked the boy before asking Carmine to bring it to the kitchen and put it in the medicine cabinet. Ryan leaned the rifle against the wall beside the door and limped to the couch, trying to stay in front of Joe at all times, figuring a man in a wheelchair would be extra jumpy about strangers being out of his line of sight.
    “So, where you staying at?” Joe asked.
    “Over by the drugstore, but I’m originally from Missouri.”
    “Missouri? What brings you ‘round here?”
    “I’m looking for my wife and daughter, hoping they’re still alive.”
    “They were gone when you woke up?” Carmine asked.
    “I dunno, well, I mean, my ex-wife, we’re divorced. We don’t live together. But I went to their house as soon as I realized what happened. But nobody was there. I noticed stuff was scattered all over, though, and found a list Mary, my ex, had written, listing a whole bunch of stuff that wasn’t in the house. My guess is they’re alive and that they packed a bunch of stuff, and took off. I have no idea where they went, though.”
    “So you’re just wandering around, looking?” Joe asked.
    “Started out doing that, but lately, I’ve stayed put, kinda’ losing hope,” Ryan admitted. “So, what are your plans? Are you staying here?”
    “Got somewhere better?” Joe said smiling.
    “Wish I could say I did. You two, and those punks that came after your grandson, are the first people I’ve seen since October.”
    “Where all you been?”
    “Missouri, Kentucky, Arkansas, and here, so far. I was going to head down to Alabama next, maybe.”
    “What made you choose those places?”
    “I dunno, trying to stick to areas Mary might have gone, places she knew people, without going too far.”
    Joe stared at Ryan, again as if he were reading his thoughts. “There’s something you’re not saying.”
    Ryan glanced at Carmine, who smiled. “Gramps has a way of seeing the things you ain’t sayin’.”
    Ryan looked at Joe, “This is gonna sound weird, but basically, I’m following hunches and these weird dreams I’m having. They were stronger a few months back, something calling me south. They stopped around the time I got here. So I just stayed put, thinking maybe I was supposed to wait here. I know, it’s weird, but right now, weird’s all I’ve got to go on.”
    “Not weird at all,” Joe said, “God works in mysterious ways. Maybe He is showing you the way.”
    Ryan didn’t bother debating the man on theology. If