Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) (33 page)

He turned his eyes toward Mother. “Please come forward, Sarah,” he said.

Sarah made herself a statue before The Prophet, still not meeting Rebecca’s eyes. He looked solemn before he swallowed, replacing his grim expression with an apologetic half-smile. “Your daughter has broken one of The Sanctuary’s unbreakable rules, and has thus brought shame to us all and called into question your fitness as a parent. Worse, she has degraded the character and threatened the soul of one of our fine young men, and through her actions invited the Demons to knock on our door.”
 

The Prophet narrowed his eyes at Sarah. “Now, I may be the humble servant of The Good Lord up in Heaven, but even the mouthpiece of God doesn’t get the right to claim judgement over a child so young. Rebecca is the spawn of your womb, Sarah, so I must ask you, shall we overlook this sin and allow you to administer her punishment? Or should she be punished according to The Word, so we can set her as subject to the strength of the Law, showing Satan that he cannot use our children as vessels to poison our well?”
 

Rebecca looked at her mother, but Mother would not meet her eyes. Rebecca cried out, “Mother, PLEASE!”

Mother stared at The Prophet, ignoring her pleas.

“Punish the sinner,” she said, an icicle coring her voice, eyes fixed on The Prophet’s. “Punish the sinner now, while there is still time to save her soul, before she joins her sister in The Lake of Fire.”

Rebecca cried out, then turned to The Prophet. There were a few punishments he could choose to administer, she knew. Though none were deadly, all terrified her.

“Okay,” The Prophet said, then exhaled a giant sigh. He shook his head as though it pained him to say what he had to say next, but then said it like it was a Sunday morning sermon anyway. “The Sanctuary hereby states that Rebecca will be punished in accordance with The Word and those rules written within. She shall spend one week in the Box of Shame and have all of the locks upon her head removed effective immediately and permanently, so she may no longer seduce the men of The Sanctuary.”
 

“What?” Rebecca was no longer crying. She was screaming, and about to run for the door. But Brother Rei was too fast. He was already on his feet, as were Brothers John and Eli, each on one side of Rebecca, holding one of her arms tight, and hurting her. Brother Rei took a step forward and met Rebecca’s eyes, then produced a pair of oversized black handled shears seemingly from nowhere, and held them in front of her face.
 

“Please don’t struggle,” Brother Rei said smiling as if he would enjoy nothing more than a struggle. He stepped closer. “I would hate to slip and slit your throat.
 
Be still and this will all be over soon.”

Brother Rei seemed to enjoy every one of the five minutes it took him to shear Rebecca’s hair to nothing more than a few ragged patches. She cried the entire time, unable to look at any of the congregation. When he was finished, he set the shears on the long table and let Rebecca fall to the floor, sobbing over the high pile of dirty hair and salty tears.

She felt like an ugly wretched sinner with the eyes of the world upon her, judging.

**

May 14, Last Year

12:15 a.m.

Rebecca had her butt on the toilet and her head in the sink. Guilt had slithered its way through her stomach, then sent her into the bathroom where she lost everything from both ends. No one woke to the sound of her suffering, which was just as well. She sat in her silence and sick, thinking about everything that happened between Alexis and Mother outside the community center.

Rebecca crept back to her room and slipped under the covers, but tossed and turned for another hour or so, crying to herself in whispers and whimpers, “I’m so sorry,” she kept crying, her words meant for Alexis, though her sister was a room away.

Finally, she kicked the covers past her knees and swung her feet to the floor. Maybe Alexis was up, too. Maybe she could tell her she was sorry. That would probably make the bad feelings go away so she could finally get to sleep.
 

Rebecca left her room and crept down the hallway. Her sister’s door was closed, so Rebecca opened it a crack and peeked inside. Alexis was wide awake. “Come in,” she said.
 

“I’m so sorry,” Rebecca spaced the three words evenly to keep herself from crying.

Alexis didn’t say anything for a while, then her teeth defied the darkness with a sudden flash of white. “It’s okay,” she said. “I get it. I used to be there, too.”

“What do you mean?”
 

Alexis flicked the light on her nightstand and the dim bulb wrapped the room in its yellowy glow. “Mom’s not who you think she is,” Alexis said. “Though I totally get why you can’t see it now, but believe me, you will.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything, so Alexis kept talking. “And there’s nothing wrong with Robbie. He’s a nice guy. You’d like him, too, if you got to know him. Everyone in his family smokes, that doesn’t make him a bad guy. He gets straight A’s, you know.”

“Would Mother like him?”

Alexis shook her head. “Mom wouldn’t like anyone except maybe Jesus, and even then she’d probably say I couldn't date him until I was 18, and only if he shaved. I haven’t done anything with Robbie, and he hasn’t even asked me to. We just danced, and had two kisses is all. But I really, really like him.”

“Why do you like him so much?”

“Because, when Robbie looks at me, I don’t feel like Alexis, the home-schooled freaky girl who has no friends, and who will live and die in this podunk town. For at least a few minutes, I’m special. Like there’s a whole world out there, waiting for me to find it. I feel free and happy. So happy, it almost feels weird. I feel guilty whenever I’m happy,but I know in my heart that’s
not
how I’m supposed to feel, despite what Mother says. It’s not what God would want.”

Alexis pulled her sister’s hands into hers, then leaned forward so she could see her clearer through the flickering shadows. “Someday you’ll see Mother for who she is. I can’t make it happen faster than it’s supposed to happen, but I can promise you it will. I don’t know how or when, or even with who, but I know I’m getting out of here someday. The sooner the better. When I’m gone, I won’t be able to look out for you anymore. I need you to promise me you won’t let this town, or Mother, trap you.
 
Can you do that?”

Rebecca was unsure but she nodded anyway.
 

“And I need you to promise me you’ll be careful with Mother, too. Can you do that?”

Rebecca was unsure but she nodded anyway.

“I forgive you,” Alexis said, squeezing Rebecca’s hands tighter. “And I love you. Everything will be okay.”

Rebecca lay beside her sister. “I need to go,” she said. “I shouldn't be here in the morning when Mother comes to check.”

Alexis pet the top of Rebecca’s head. “Sshhh...,” she said. “Mother only has the power you give her. Never any more than that.”

Rebecca returned to her room. Though she still felt horrible, she now felt something else — a connection to her sister she’d never had before. And with that connection, she fell asleep with a faint smile, remembering how much she loved her.

* * * *

CHARLIE WILKENS: PART 2

Abrams, Georgia

March 22

1:14 p.m.

Charlie leaned against the metal railing of the overpass, focussing the binoculars on the Walmart just off the highway. They were about an hour north of home, and from what he could tell, the parking lot looked empty of monsters and men.

“I don’t see anything,” he said to Callie, Adam, and Vic, who stood behind him, each looking through their own set of binoculars, except Vic, who was staring through the scope on his rifle.

“Me either,” Callie said. “Front doors and windows are intact, no signs of looting, and no monsters. Looks good. I think we hit the jackpot.”

“Would like to hit
your
jackpot,” Vic said with a grin and a wink.

Charlie turned to him, “What did you just say?”

Vic looked at him, and chuckled, “You steppin’ up to me, boy? Might wanna reconsider, seeing as how Boricio ain’t here to watch your back.”

“I don’t need anyone to watch shit,” Charlie said, stepping forward.

Vic stepped forward, puffing his massive chest, standing almost a foot taller than Charlie and outweighing him by at least 80 pounds of muscle. His face was inches away, eyes boring into Charlie’s, hot alcohol-laced breath steaming his face.

“You think you can take me, boy?”

Charlie’s knee was shaking, and he prayed like hell that nobody would notice, especially Callie.

“Come on, guys,” Callie said, stepping toward them both, “We’re a team, right? Let’s get into that store. It looks like it’s gonna storm bad.”

As if on cue, dark clouds choked all but a sliver of the sun, and the temperature seemed to drop another 10 degrees, turning an already cold morning icy.

Charlie didn’t dare break his gaze with Vic. Though the man was huge, psychotic, and had a rifle in his hand, Charlie had something Vic didn’t — years of pent-up rage, aimed at guys exactly like Vic. He also had a switchblade in his pocket, one he’d lifted a couple months back and had never let anyone see him holding. He didn’t think he’d be quick or agile enough to lunge at Vic with a blade, but if he had Vic down, and Vic didn’t know he had it, the element of surprise would be on Charlie’s side.

As seconds of silence passed, Charlie started to doubt that his pent up rage, or his tiny knife, were nearly as useful as they had seemed just moments ago. When it came down to it, he’d never won a fight; he barely ever landed a punch before getting his ass handed right back. No way he could take on a Professional Asshole like Vic in a straight-up match. Fucking with Vic, out here on the highway, almost an hour from home, was a mistake. But he couldn’t back down. Too much was on the line.

Vic leaned forward so quickly, Charlie nearly fell backward trying to avoid him. As Charlie caught his balance, Vic laughed his hoarse smoker’s laugh, “Oh shit, you should’a seen your face. Goddamn, boy, you crack me up.”

Charlie glared, not sure if Vic were further insulting him, giving him an out, or backing off in a way that made it seem like he were just fucking with Charlie. That was something Bob would’ve done. Whatever the case, Charlie glanced at Callie, and she had that face that said:
no, not now.

“Dude, you need to take it easy. That’s how guys talk, bro. Callie didn’t take offense, did ya’, babe?”

Callie smiled, saying “No, Vic” in such a way that didn’t show her disgust for the guy, yet didn’t encourage more comments. Though she often spoke her mind, and could dish insults with the best of them, she also had an uncanny ability to get out of tricky situations with her words. Charlie admired her diplomacy, always managing to keep everyone friendly, at least to her. It was the opposite of Charlie’s uncanny ability to alienate and make an enemy of anyone.
 

“It’s all good,” she said.

“We square?” Vic asked Charlie. Though he was smiling, there was a glimmer in his eye, barely hiding his desire to fuck with Charlie some more.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, taking the opportunity to save face.

“Then, let’s get rollin’,” Vic said, climbing back into the cab of the moving truck. “Let’s fill this fucker up.”

“I dunno,” Adam said, as they all got in. “Aren’t we close to The Prophet’s place? You think this could be a trap? Hard to believe there’s a store so close to them that they haven’t hit yet.”

Adam had a point, they’d seen The Prophet’s people a couple of times at stores they intended to hit. It was Adam who’d recognized one of the men, a guy named John. Big dude. While the Prophet’s men didn’t travel in large numbers, there was no doubt they were more experienced with guns, and that was a fight that neither Charlie, Adam, or Jeremy wanted. Fortunately, Vic hadn’t been with them the few times when they had run into the Prophet’s men, so they’d been able to sneak away without a confrontation. But now that Jeremy was dead, Vic was coming with them, and Charlie doubted Vic would ever back down or avoid a fight. The steroid case thought he was invincible, and would cross the street just to find a fight to prove it.

“Trap or not, I don’t give a shit,” Vic said, finality in his voice. “We’re running low on supplies, and we’re going in there and taking whatever’s there, no matter whose turf this is.”

“OK,” Charlie said. Though Old Charlie would have been reluctant to go along with Vic’s plan, New Charlie was a man of action, particularly if there didn’t seem to be much danger. He’d already backed down once this morning, so he would need to do something brave to make up for it, otherwise he’d feel even shittier the next time his head hit the pillow, and he had to lie in the lingering Friend Zone with the fat of his boner.

**

As they drove into the Walmart parking lot, the clouds continued their war on the sun, now shrouding it completely in gloom.

They hopped from the cabin and Charlie immediately noticed that the temperature had dropped again, another 10 degrees at least. The wind started to howl, blowing his hair into his eyes.