Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (30 page)

“Not sure,” Luca shrugged. “I’ve never really tried. Hold on.”

Luca disappeared. Five seconds later, Boricio heard a pebble slap the window. Boricio ran to the glass, and stared down smiling in disbelief. Luca was downstairs by the tree, standing by it and grinning ear to ear.
 

A big, beautiful idea bloomed inside Boricio’s brain as Luca vanished and then appeared back in the room in front of him.

Dr. Williams wouldn’t help him. But what if Boricio went to Williams with a vial? Boricio was pretty damned sure he could convince the man to take a chance on Rose then.

But how the hell do I ask Luca to break into Level Seven and steal the vials?

Boricio didn’t even need to ask, though.
 

The boy was staring at him.

Luca smiled and said, “Yes, Boricio, I’ll get the vials for you.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

YESTERDAY’S GONE

EPISODE 16

“The Variable”

* * * *

CHAPTER 1 — Boricio Bishop
 

Black Island Research Facility

Level Seven

September
 
2011

morning

ONE MONTH BEFORE THE EVENT…

While most people could be swayed by logic or an emotional appeal, Boricio was starting to think that the only way to open Dr. Williams’ mind was with a crowbar.

He’d gotten the doctor alone in his office and asked him to work his magic again — to
please
use the vials to create another serum. It had worked with Luca. It would work with Rose.

But Dr. Williams was afraid of incurring the wrath of Boricio’s father, Will.

“He’s not your boss, he’s a consultant,” Boricio had said.

“You know as well as I that if he doesn’t greenlight a project, it goes nowhere. I’m lucky to even have a job after what happened with Luca — and that was a success! Imagine if we fail.”

But Boricio couldn’t imagine a world where that would happen.

“I’m losing her,” Boricio said, his voice cracking as he played up his sadness a bit to try and work on Williams’ sympathy. “She’s in constant pain, she’s paralyzed, and her memory is only getting worse.”
 

“These things take time,” Dr. Williams said. “You have to be patient. This isn’t nearly as pressing as Luca’s situation had been. She is stable and just needs time to heal.”

“Do you know what it’s like to have the woman you love look at you like you’re a stranger?” Boricio asked.

Of course Dr. Williams didn’t have a response to that, either in words or emotion. His face was nearly blank, in fact. He simply said, “I’m sorry, Boricio.”

Boricio waited him out a moment, allowing the silence to push the Doc into saying more.

“I understand,” Dr. Williams said. “And I want to help you, Boricio. But even if I believed the procedure was safe, which I’m not sure that I do any more, Will Bishop will never allow it. We’ve done so much with the Remedy Project —
I’ve
done so much with the project — and I can’t risk its future on another of your whims.”

Boricio ignored the slight, though it was hard not to blast back. Instead, he tried a reasoned approach, and played one of two cards he had.
 

“Healing Rose
is
in the best interests of the Remedy Project.” Boricio paused, then revealed his second strongest card. “What if I told you I could get my hands on a vial?”
 

A sudden streak of red flushed the doctor’s face.
 
Williams said. “We’re not having this conversation.” He cleared his throat, clearly agitated.

Boricio realized he wasn’t just crossing the line; he was dragging his ass like a dog on carpet and smearing a trail of shit along the way.

William’s said, “This is borderline treason, Boricio. I have to ask you to leave now, and to never bring this up again. I hope things change soon, and that we can figure out what’s happening with Luca, and get Rose the help she needs. But in the meantime, I’m growing increasingly uncomfortable with this topic. You promised no more than five minutes, and we’re now into our twentieth.”

Boricio’s second best card hadn’t worked, so he played one better — and his last.

“I know about The Goliath Project,” he said. “And I know how badly you’d love for Will to sign off on it.” Boricio leaned across the desk.
 
“But he won’t, will he, Doc? Will’s just not much of a team player these days, is he?”

The doctor said nothing.

Boricio leaned back in his seat and continued, “Well, it’s a good thing I am. I know how I can get Will to John Hancock all over the Goliath Project, and I’m confident enough to give you a guarantee that I’ll make it happen. What do you say, Doc?”

Williams shook his head, his eyes as wide as his face was red. Boricio couldn’t tell if he was surprised or angry that Boricio knew about Goliath. Or perhaps he picked up on the subtext — if Williams didn’t help him, he’d make it damned difficult to get Goliath passed through.

“I’m saying the same thing I’ve been saying all along, Boricio — I’d love to help you, but I can’t. Not even with a promise of getting me a vial, or a green light on Goliath. Will has his reasons for refusing your requests, and even if I don’t agree with all of his reasons, it’s my job and responsibility to listen.”

“But it’s not!” Boricio could feel the growl growing inside his voice. “That’s only true if Will genuinely knows better. But he doesn’t. Not this time. He’s not a scientist, right? At least not like
you.
” Boricio waited for the flicker of agreement he knew was inside Williams to flash across his face. “And because Will isn’t a scientist, he is impeding the project’s progress by withholding the vials from you and your team, right?”

Williams cleared his throat and repeated the party line. “He has his reasons.”

“What if you could have absolute, unhindered access to the vials?”

Williams shook his head. “No one has that kind of access.”

Boricio pulled one final ace from the inside of his coat, then gently set the vial on the doctor’s desk, the glass cylinder of bright blue liquid packed in clear plastic to protect it.

Williams stared at the vial, his eyes nearly as wide as his open mouth.

His hand dropped to the desk, hovering an inch above the vial before he quickly snatched back his fingers as if they were centimeters from the fangs of a snake.
 

Williams stroked his chin, then scratched his head and tugged at his ears, wrestling with something inside him for a long while before finally turning to Boricio and saying, “How . . . how did you get that?”

Boricio laughed, though the laugh was closer to a cackle.
 

“There are two sorts of secrets, Doc — the kind you want to keep inside because they mean a helluva lot more if they’re never so much as whispered, and the other sort where you wouldn’t dare utter a whisper, even if you wanted to. This one,” he nodded toward the vial, “is both.”
 

Williams turned his back to the vial, then got up from his desk and began to pace as if his chair had grown too hot to sit in.
 

Boricio said, “Take it or leave it, Doc. The choice is yours.”
 

Williams stared at Boricio without saying a word, almost like he was practicing the same sort of in and out, in and out slow breathing Boricio had begun to master over the past few weeks. He finally turned back to his desk and ran his fingers over the vial, his fingers grazing the length of the plastic casing from top to bottom.
 

“We can’t do this,” he shook his head and whispered. “
Can we?
”

Boricio had him.
 

“We can, Doc. That’s why I’m here.”

**

Two days later…

Boricio and Dr. Williams had been in Rose’s room for nearly 15 minutes. Warm anticipation was burning up and down Boricio’s back as he made small circles on the linoleum behind the doctor. He’d managed to avoid Will during the past two days, and Will was scheduled for his weekly meeting with Sullivan which usually ran longer than it was supposed to.

The stage was set, but doubt began to lay seeds in Boricio’s head. He tried not to allow it to show, however. If he let his uncertainty show, Rose would get spooked.

It wasn’t doubt so much that the serum would work. He had faith that it would, even if it had some slight side effects as it had with Luca.

But, he wondered, was it fair to inflict those side effects on Rose? What if she teleported to another world like Luca had? She’d be terrified. Or worse, what if she teleported into the middle of a highway at rush hour or something? While Luca had seemed somewhat excited about his new ability, Rose might not see it as a gift, but rather a curse.

So, Boricio was forced to consider if the risk was worth the reward.

Was her life truly so miserable now that it wouldn’t get better in time?

Am I doing this to help her or am I doing it out of selfishness to have my old Rose back?

The sting of the question caused Boricio to look down at the floor before meeting her eyes again.

Rose’s eyes seemed tiny, silent, and slightly sad, even though they appeared to be missing any true recognition of the men.
 

She stared at both Boricio and Williams, though mostly Williams, as he took her vitals and ran through every necessary precaution to ensure that her fragile body was aptly prepped to accept the serum he had spent the last 32 hours preparing.

“Are you ready?” Williams turned to Boricio.

Boricio nodded. “Sure thing, Doc. Can I just have a few minutes alone with her before we get started?”

Williams nodded, said, “Of course,” then slipped from her room.

Boricio turned back to Rose. “Hi there,” he said.
 

She half-smiled, then said, “Hi.”
 

She didn’t sound nearly as uncertain of him as she had been on other days. Something was quiet, but undeniably warmer inside her simple greeting. Perhaps she was remembering more. Or maybe just getting better at faking the responses people expected so she wouldn’t disappoint them.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

Boricio smiled, thrilled to hear Rose stringing two words together into a simple question, especially with the genuine curiosity behind it, minutes before she was about to receive the first drops of her certain cure.
 

“We’re going to make you better now,” Boricio promised.

“What’s wrong with me?”
 

Like every other time Rose had asked that question, Boricio felt something horribly blunt punching a hole through the center of his heart. He wasn’t sure how many times Rose had asked him already, but he hated the something inside her that wasn’t allowing her to remember his answer. He said, “Nothing’s wrong with you, Sweet Rose. You’re just having a hard time remembering a few things.” He paused, then added, “Like you and me, for example.”
 

“I remember you,” she said.
 

His heart dropped so suddenly, Boricio felt as though he was stomping on its beat. Rose hadn’t said anything like that since the accident, not at least without him having spent hours reminding her who he was and getting only snippets back.

“You do?” he asked, unable to hide his excitement.

She added, “At least I sorta do.”

“What do you remember?”

“Water, um . . . boats, . . . um, pasta, . . . and you.” She paused for 30 seconds or so, though each one felt like more than its share of forever, while she tried to turn a second thought into another full sentence, but couldn’t get the words to tumble from her mouth in any sort of logical order.

Boricio stared at her hard-working face, twisting in concentration as she tried to pull something from her memory’s depths. Her eyes said she found something, but its weight must have been too heavy, because her lips seemed to lose it a second before her eyes returned to their usual vacancy.

Boricio pulled Rose’s hand into the sandwich of his palms, wanting to weep when she didn’t pull it away like had been doing recently. She held his hand like she held his eyes, and for the first time seemed perfectly unafraid.
 

Boricio didn’t care that he was bald and scarred and ugly as an angry action figure. Fuck the world and all the haters in it. A flawless face was pocked with its own sort of flaws, anyway. The only reason Boricio dripped a drop of care about how he looked was that he couldn't stand looking nothing like the man who used to hear Rose whisper, “I can’t wait to wake up with you tomorrow,”
 
each night before the cool of his pillow sent him to sleep.

“Dr. Williams will be back in a minute,” Boricio said. “And he has something that will make you better. Do you
want
to be all better Rose?”