Yesterday's Gone: Season Six (29 page)

Will caught her.

As he helped Emily right herself, she caught a whiff of a cologne her father wore
Before
.

Thinking of her father reminded Emily of her mission to find Mary.

“Luca,” she said, “I need to know where Mary is.”

He looked around, said, “I dunno,” then bent to pet Dog Vader again.

Agitated, voice raised: “Come on, Luca, I need to know!”

The world moved beneath her feet. At first, Emily thought it was just her, then she saw Will and Luca swaying to stay upright.

“She’s fading,” Will said.

Emily had no clue what that meant.
 

“You need to hold on,” he said, reaching out.

She tried to reach out then fell. Not to the ground but
through
it.

She sank fast then stopped, with the lower half of her body stuck in the ground like it was quicksand.
 

The beach was gone, replaced by a charred landscape stretching as far as she could see in every direction. No trees. No greenery of any kind. The sky churned with a black mass of swirling clouds.

Something moved within them, sinister and staring back at Emily.

She struggled to move but couldn’t.

Her feet were stuck, along with her hands, trapped in the earth.

“Luca!”
 

He wasn’t there.
 

The clouds swirled faster, and red lightning erupted, spreading like a spiderweb in darkness.

Clouds roiled, creating a cone-shaped tip surrounded by bursts of red lightning. It gathered speed, its train engine’s roar growing deafening as its tendrils swirled toward the ground.
 

A tornado!

It hit, in the distance, scattering debris. Pieces of earth, rock, and whatever else was on the ground soared into the funnel and became one, the tornado swelling in size.

The world turned into a chaotic maelstrom of screaming rain and wind, tearing at everything as Emily struggled to break free.

But the earth refused to lose her.

“Luca!” she cried out.
 

The tornado kept coming.

This isn’t real!

This isn’t real!

This isn’t —
 

— and then Emily was back in the bed, with Luca, sitting up, gasping for air. Soaking wet.

“What the hell happened?”
 

Boricio stared at her. “Where did you go?”

“What do you mean?”

“You vanished. Where did you go?”

“I dunno. I was on a beach with Luca and an old man, Will. And a talking dog.”

Boricio stared at Emily. At first, she thought he’d think her crazy. But his horrified eyes weren’t suggesting insanity.
 

“You said Will and a
talking dog
?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see Mary?”

“No.”

“Did you ask Luca where she was?”

“He said he didn’t know. He seemed confused. It was a weird dream or something. Nothing made sense. Then I was in a burned field with a tornado coming at me, with red lightning inside it.”

Emily shivered, her body ice cold. She looked down at her clothes, soaking wet and filthy.

“How long was I gone?”

“Just a minute,” Boricio said. “I was about to get up and get the others when you came back.”

She looked at Luca, still old, still in his same clothes. Still sleeping.

“Did he vanish?”

“For a moment, yes.”

“He was there, too, but as a kid, with Will and a dog.
What just happened
?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue.”
 

Boricio not knowing scared Emily more than anything.

* * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Brent Foster

This was the end.

It had been almost an hour since Marcus had yanked the other bandits out of the container, demanding answers for what the hell happened.

As Brent, Teagan, and the kids waited, huddled together, quietly, he knew that whatever reprieve they were enjoying would be short lived. The question was what would happen next. Would the bandits come back and have their way with Teagan and the kids before killing Brent?

Or would they be shot by firing squad like the other slaves?

Then the door finally opened, and they had their answer.

“It’s time to die,” Marcus said.

They were marched single file, collars off. Oddly, that freedom meant that hope was gone because they were surrounded by at least five bandits, including the blonde who’d helped to catch them, guns aimed.

He stared up at full fat moon, cold and oblivious to their pain. The same moon he’d once stared at as a child, thinking the worst thing that might ever happen would be a life lived without falling in love.
 

But no, there were far worse things than that. Like finding love and having it ripped away. Like watching your child’s murder, helpless to prevent it. Like slitting your daughter’s throat to end her suffering at the hands of evil men.

The moon didn’t care about any of that, of course. It shone light down on good and bad alike, never intervening. Never caring. Not unlike God.

They followed Marcus down the cul-de-sac, through the fence toward the fields just inside the fortress perimeter.

There would be no last-minute heroics here unless God Himself intervened. Or Team Boricio. But Brent couldn’t rely on that glimmer of hope. He had to prepare for his death, and the deaths of those he loved.

The only possible blessings were that at least Tommy and the others wouldn’t rape and murder the children and Teagan. Marcus made it clear as he commanded them to leave the container that “the bullshit is over” and it was “time to end this.”

Marcus led the way through the fence and out to a new, though smaller, freshly dug ditch.

Teagan was crying, softly. Ben and Becca were louder, but for the first time they weren’t told to shut up.

They reached the pit’s edge.

Teagan stopped walking. She turned back to Marcus and begged.
 

“Do whatever you want with me, but
please,
don’t hurt them.” She looked at Becca and Ben. “I’ll do anything you want.” She lowered her voice. “
Be
anyone you want. Just please, let them live.”
 

“What makes you think I can’t make you do whatever I want,
be
whoever I want, and still fill my pit with your mistakes?”
 

Brent finally found his balls and stared into Marcus’s milky-white eye. “
Our
mistakes?”
 

Brent heard Becca whisper to Ben behind him. “Are we gonna die?”
 

“No. It’s okay,” Ben whispered back. “My dad will make everything better.”
 

“Yes,
your
mistakes.” Marcus twirled his fingers toward the clouds. “You done fucked up, Fishbelly. I’m trying to build a polite society here, give everyone a role to fill, and let the smart folks go about filling ‘em, a spot in the world where people know their place and aren’t prone to problems. You’ve gone and pissed in the pool.”
 

Brent flinched.
 

“The world is a dangerous place. You all should be thankful that we brought you in. But no, you all gotta rock the boat. Cause some sorta rebellion. Got razors, dead slaves, and you killed one of my men. You’ve brought this upon yourselves.”

“Are you kidding me?” Brent yelled. “You have
Welcome to Hell
written outside!”
 

Marcus gave Brent another rotten-toothed smile. “You never heard of a little color?”
 

“
Color?
They were going to rape our kids! Are you telling me that
you
wouldn’t fight back if that was happening to your family?”

Marcus lost his smile. His eyes flinched.
 

Tommy yelled, “Goddamned liar!”
 

Marcus yelled, “Wyatt!”
 

Black Beard came over, and Marcus nodded toward Brent.
 

“What’s he talking about?”
 

“I don’t know anything, boss.”
 

“You don’t know anything, or you’ve nothing to say?”
 

Marcus looked from Wyatt to Brent to the rest of the crew then finally to the bandits and back. Brent couldn’t see Tommy or Skull Tattoo, and wasn’t willing to dare a look.
 

Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t know anything about nothing.”
 

Brent clenched his fists, studying the Reaper’s face, wanting to scream the truth even if it earned him a bullet.
 

Marcus said, “Anyone else have anything to say?”
 

No one spoke.
 

Marcus looked at Brent. “Tommy says you’re lying.”
 

“I’m not lying. This all started because they came in the middle of the night and started raping that girl, that
dead slave
you’re so worked up over. The mom killed her daughter, and herself, to keep it from happening again.”
 

Marcus shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Now does that really sound like something a sensible mother would do?” He turned from Brent to his men. “Any of this true?”
 

Shaking heads and mumbled nos.
 

Marcus nodded toward the pit. “Then let’s go.”
 

The kids and Teagan started to cry.
 

Brent prepared for his death, wondering if he should plead.
 

Cowards begged, but at least they lived longer.
 

But was it worth it? Brent could beg until he was blue, and they’d probably kill him anyway. At least closing his eyes and waiting for the bullet would leave him with a splinter of dignity.
 

No. He wouldn’t beg. Pleading would make it worse for Teagan and the children. Brent would leave life like a man.
 

Brent squeezed his eyes tight and prayed to himself. If he was going to beg, it would only be to a God who wasn’t likely to hear him.
 

Please, if You’re there, I’ll do anything You ask if You’ll only do something.
 

Nothing happened.
 

Brent opened his eyes to see Wyatt whispering into Marcus’s ear.
 

Smiling, the Reaper said, “Good point,” then turned to Teagan and Brent. “Good news. We have room for one of your children in the main house. You see, Fortune wasn’t so kind to our chef, Brother Bill. He’s lost his child, and Sister Liza’s been wanting another ever since. So … ” he cast his eyes between them. “Which will it be? Jack or Jill?”
 

Brent swallowed to keep from choking. He couldn’t believe it — a chance to keep one of the children alive. A chance that Ben might live.

And then, a horrible thought:
maybe Ben would be better off dead.

Teagan stepped closer to Brent and touched his arm. “We can’t.” She shook her head. “You know what will happen.”
 

“I want to be with my dad,” Ben said. “You should go, Becca.”

The briefest glimmer of hope died inside Brent.
 

Teagan moved closer to the Reaper. “You’re not getting them.”

Marcus stepped closer to Teagan and breathed what had to be death’s stench into her face. “I must have given you the impression I was making a request.”
 

Marcus snarled like a dog, walked past Teagan, and grabbed Becca roughly by the arm. “Jill it is.”
 

Teagan lurched forward. Brent threw himself in front of her, wrapped his arms around her waist, then pulled Teagan toward him and held her tight.
 

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t … ”

Over and over, Brent whispered, hoping to calm her before she got shot. Teagan was silent for seconds, until Becca screamed.
 

“No!” she echoed.
 

This is it.
 

This is the end.
 

If You’re out there, our time is just about over.
 

Brent grabbed Teagan’s hand, then Ben’s. He pulled them both into a hug as Becca was dragged away screaming.
 

“Don’t look. Don’t look,” he whispered to them. “Just close your eyes.”

Teagan sobbed into Brent’s shoulder, squeezing his hand.

Ben squeezed tighter, crying. “I love you, Daddy.”
 

“I love you. Both of you.” Brent said to them both.