Yesterday's Gone (Season 5): Episodes 25-30 (34 page)

Ed closed his eyes, lying on the floor beside the bleeding corpse, playing dead as Luther stomped around the bedroom, making that horrible clicking, searching for what The Darkness had come for.

Ed wondered how The Darkness had found them. How
It
had known he was here for the vials. Perhaps
It
had
Its
own version of Paola
It
was using to search for the missing vials.

Luther ripped the closet door from its track and threw it aside where it banged into a bookcase, knocking it to the floor. 

Not one for subtlety, that one.

Luther ripped at boxes in the closet, grunting. A shotgun blast exploded outside. Ed hoped that Luther had given Marina and Acevedo a gun before leaving them alone in the van. Otherwise, he’d have more bodies on his hands, and more aliens to fight off outside.

Luther continued tearing through boxes as Ed impatiently waited.

To play possum while all hell was breaking loose outside was gutting him. He needed to get up, go outside,  secure the other vials, and protect Marina and Acevedo.

But if he got up before Luther found the vial, he might never get the last one.

He couldn’t risk moving. Yet. 

Luther will find the vial soon.

Luther suddenly stopped throwing boxes.

For a moment, Ed thought perhaps Luther was onto him, and was coming back to finish him off.

Ed risked opening an eye to see Luther still facing the closet, holding a small black wooden box in his massive hands. He lifted the lid and cast his face in the vial’s blue glow.

Yes! He found it.

Luther closed the box, turned, and looked down at Ed.

Ed closed his eyes, hoping The Darkness wasn’t running some sort of body scan. Ed figured the alien inside his partner was capable of telling the difference between a dead human and one playing possum.

Outside, the van’s tires were kicking up dirt.

Shit!

Luther ran from the room, drawn by the fleeing van.

Ed popped up, grabbed the shotgun, and followed his partner out of the room.

No time for regrets or second thoughts. Ed raised the barrel and fired into the back of Luther’s skull, sending him dead to the ground.

Ed grabbed the box with the vial, and searched the camper through the open front door.

There were no infected, just waves of Darkness in its raw form pursuing the van down the dirt road.

Ed hoped that Luther had freed their prisoners before leaving them. Otherwise, God only knew who was driving the van, or what happened to the priest, Marina, and, of course, the other vials.

Ed couldn’t stick around to find out — he had to get out of there before The Darkness realized he had a vial and it returned to salvage whatever victory it could on this night.

Ed raced out of the RV and along the path toward a camper, bright in the distance. In front of the camper, a Harley. 

Ed hoped he wouldn’t have to kill anyone else to get it.

* * * *

CHAPTER 11 — MARINA HARMON

They’d been driving for nearly an hour before Acevedo finally pulled into a gas station on the side of the highway.

He crawled into the van’s rear and looked down at Marina’s cuffs. “I can’t find another key, so you’ll have to sit tight until I can find something to pick those.”

“What do you mean? Why don’t you use your Jedi mind power or whatever the hell you did to get out of yours?”

“I could try, but it might take forever. It’d be easier to get a paper clip or soda can to make a shim, then work on it that way.”

“How the hell
did
you do that?” 

“I told you the vials have an effect on you over time. I noticed some abilities the longer I held onto the vials — moving stuff with my mind, hearing people’s thoughts. Nothing big, and it’s off and on, but I got lucky back there, I guess.”

“So is there anything
I
can do?” 

“I don’t know. You tell me. I mean, you said you didn’t even know about the vials until recently, right? Maybe you weren’t close enough for them to exercise any influence over you.”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel anything. So, what’s the plan now? What are we going to do? We have four vials instead of six, right? That guy drank the one, and we didn’t wait around for Keenan to come out with the other. Is that enough?”

“It’ll have to be for now.”

“So, what are you planning? Do you think maybe we ought to give them to the government?”

Acevedo laughed, then stopped when he saw in Marina’s eyes that it was a serious suggestion.

“Wait? You really want me to hand the vials over to them? You know what they’d do with this kind of power, don’t you?”

“I don’t know, maybe fight The Darkness and win?”

“You really think that? You, of all people, I would’ve thought you’d know better than to trust the government. All the trouble they put your father through because of the church.”

“He invited plenty of those problems on himself, and we both know it,” Marina argued. “Besides, Keenan saved my life and didn’t have to. Hell, you would’ve been dead if Luther hadn’t saved you back at Beef’s house. And you just left them behind. What kind of priest leaves innocent people to die?”

“
Innocent?
” Acevedo laughed. “Need I remind you that that innocent G-man put a gun to you and punched you in the face to coerce us to cooperate with him? I think someone here’s getting a case of Stockholm Syndrome, identifying too closely with the bad guys.”

Marina shook her head. “I’m not identifying with anyone. But at least they had a plan. They knew what to do. They have resources. We only have us. And in case you missed it back there, I’m not exactly a fighter.”

“How do you know they have plans? Did they tell you about them when I wasn’t listening? Did they tell you what they were going to do other than
get the vials
?”

“No. But neither have you. You’re acting like God will personally give you directions or something.”

Acevedo met Marina’s eyes, no longer laughing, his harboring a sadness that Marina wasn’t sure she wanted to understand.

“I have a plan,” he said, “and I know what I need to do.”

“What?” 

“I have to find the vessel and kill it.”

“The vessel?” 

“Yes, The Darkness is hiding inside a human. I’ve seen him before, and the vials will show me where he is.”

“You’ve seen him before? Who is he?” Marina asked. “Do we have a name?”

“Yes,” Acevedo said. “I’ve been dreaming about him since I got the vial. His name is Luca Harding.”

* * * *

CHAPTER 12 — BRENT FOSTER

Brent stared at the TV’s clock:
10:30 p.m.

When the hell is Desmond coming home?

It was late, and Brent wanted to get Ben home and to bed. He was pretty sure Teagan wanted to get home, too. They’d promised Desmond that they’d stay with Mary. But that was late last night. He hadn’t counted on Desmond staying at the facility all day.

Sure, there was a ton to get done, and Desmond was pretty much the island’s number two, just under Director Bolton, so he had plenty on his shoulders. Still, Mary had just lost her daughter. And while they weren’t married, Desmond and Mary were a couple, and the closest thing Desmond had to family — so why the hell wasn’t he here in her time of need?

Ben was sleeping in Paola’s bed, with Teagan’s little girl sleeping beside him.

Brent hoped Desmond would return before Mary emerged from her room. He wasn’t sure how she would react to their kids sleeping in her daughter’s room so soon after her death.

Brent looked at Teagan passed out but sitting up beside him on the couch, her neck at an awkward and uncomfortable-looking angle. She’d not only lost her closest friend on the island but also her roommate. Still, she didn’t have the luxury of wallowing. Grief was expensive when a young child was counting on you, so she seemed to be shoving her response deep down, as low as it would go. 

Brent could relate. He’d barely had time to process his wife’s death before they’d hit the road with Ed and crew.

Holding it together, maintaining a strong facade, was tough, and sometimes felt impossible. 

That wasn’t to say Brent didn’t grieve for Gina, but it was usually in the dead of night, while alone in his bed. But he, like Teagan, had to stay strong. Ben was counting on him. The five-year-old had been surprisingly resilient, sometimes making it an entire day without crying for his mom, wondering when she’d come home.

While Brent thought his son had understood death after he explained that Mommy had gone to heaven, the boy sometimes seemed to forget that his mother was dead. It was worst when Ben was tired and cranky. He’d cry, “I want Mommy.”

Times like that threatened to crack Brent’s brittle facade to nothing.

Listening to Ben cry for his dead mother, wondering when she’d return, was a cold blade to his gut. But Brent had to stay strong for his son. Had to guide him through the grief, even if he barely knew how to navigate the lonely waters himself.

He looked at his cell phone, hoping to see a signal. Nothing.

He had to reach Ed and let him know about Jade. 

But the island was still on lockdown.

The front door clicked unlocked, and Desmond finally came home.

“I’m sorry.” Desmond inside with a face filled with apology. “Everything at the facility is insane.”

“No problem,” Brent lied, standing to meet Desmond in the kitchen, hoping that Teagan wouldn’t wake.

Desmond went to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of Heineken. “Want one?”

“I’m good,” Brent said.

Desmond popped the cap and took a long swig. 

“So,” Desmond asked, “how’s Mary holding up?”

“She hasn’t come out of her room.”

“At all?”

“No. We went to her door a few times, but she just kept saying that she wanted to sleep. Teagan went in a couple of times to leave food and drinks. She said that Mary’s back was to the door, and she couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. So she set them on her nightstand. She went back a few times, but the food and drinks were always untouched.”

“Jesus.” Desmond sighed then finished his beer with four long swallows. 

Desmond offered the second bottle to Brent again. After he said no thanks, Desmond asked, “You sure?” then popped it open and started gulping.

Brent didn’t think Desmond was much of a drinker. Maybe it was the stress.

“So,” Brent asked, “what’s the latest on the outbreak, or whatever they’re calling it?”

“They’re calling it ‘Incident 1151,’ officially, between you and me, which doesn’t sound scary at all, eh?” Desmond let out an odd laugh, as if stress was pinching every last nerve.

Brent suddenly felt stupid. He’d not considered how hard Paola’s death might be hitting Desmond. The girl was like a daughter to him, Brent figured, and Desmond had yet to grieve. Work was calling, and he had to secure their safety. Brent felt selfish and guilty for wondering where in the hell he was earlier. Desmond obviously wanted to get home to Mary and process what happened. But he had a duty to keep the island secure, so his own needs, and Mary’s, had to come second. 

Brent said, “I’m so sorry about Paola.”

“Thanks,” Desmond said as he finished off the second beer. “And thanks for hanging out today, or rather, tonight.”

“Ben and Becca are in Paola’s room. I hope that’s OK. It was getting late, and … ”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, man. Thanks for helping. How is she doing?” Desmond nodded at Teagan, still asleep on the couch.

“She’s being strong, but I’m worried about sending her back to her place alone.”

“They can stay here,” Desmond offered.

“I don’t want to burden you all. Plus, I was going to invite them to stay with Ben and me for a while. Unless you think Mary needs us to hang around more?”

“Actually, about that … I was going to ask if you can all stay through the night. I have to go back and take care of a few loose ends. If the kids are sleeping, no need to wake them up just to bring ‘em back to your place, right? I have some inflatable beds in my office; you and Teagan can bunk in there or bring the beds into Paola’s room — it’s pretty big.
If
you can stay, that is.”

Brent surprised himself. Ten minutes ago he was annoyed and couldn’t wait to get home. Now he felt eager to help Desmond and the others however he could. Maybe in helping others get through their grief he could better process his own. They’d been through hell together, and while he’d lost the love of his life and Ben had lost his mother, he had to focus on what they still had left — for as long as they still had it.

“Yeah, we can stay. Just one thing,” Brent said as he reached for his cell, “how long is the island on lockdown? I can’t get a signal, and I really think someone should call Ed to let him know about Teagan.”

Desmond’s eyes narrowed on Brent. “I’m not sure how long Bolton will keep us on lockdown. He wants to make sure that if there are any more infected they won’t be able to contact anyone they might be working with off island.”

“Working with? What do you mean?”

“We have reason to believe there are certain people, not infected, trying to undermine our efforts.”

“Like
terrorists?
” Brent asked.

“That’s as good a word as any.”

“Who?”

“We’re not sure. But there are some alien vials out in the wild, and someone has released a few already. We’re trying to contain it, and that’s what Keenan’s doing now. He’s doing vital work out there. And as much as I agree that he has a right to know about his daughter, he’s one of the only people who can get these vials before it’s too late.”

“Yeah,” Brent said, not sure how to frame the next part of his argument without seeming insensitive, “but weren’t you using Paola to find the vials? I would think that without her, you might as well bring Ed back here.”

“He has a couple of the vials and should be able to use those to help him find the others. From my understanding, these vials
want
to be together. Once you have some, they will lead you to the others. And we need to make sure we get them before the enemy.”