Read Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) for Free Online

eyes shut tighter, both hearing and feeling Boricio pace by his side, probably ready to tell him to stop trying, with more words that would make Luca sick.
    No, I have to do this. I have to bring her back.
    Luca thought again of how Paola had died, until he could feel the anger coursing through him. Anger at Brother Rei. Anger at his inability to save Paola or Mary. Or Rebecca, Desmond, Linc, or any of the others he could have saved. Anger at whatever the hell took his family from him last October.
    The warm current flashed brighter, then flowed faster inside him, like someone lit a fuse. It burned hotter than it had before; the heat was suddenly everywhere inside him, flowing from his body and into Paola. Luca could feel her skin warming at his touch. He opened his eyes as Paola’s eyes opened too.
    Her eyes met his, and her mouth parted, but her ragged voice couldn’t crack into words. Paola could only cough instead.
    “Shh,” Luca said, tears of joy streaming from his eyes. “You’re alive.” He smiled. “You’re going to be okay.”

    * * * *

CHAPTER 5 — Edward Keenan Part 1

    March 28
    Somewhere in Georgia
    FIVE MONTHS AFTER THE EVENT…

    Three days had passed since their capture.
    Ed and Brent were shackled beside one another, handcuffed to giant metal shelving in the grocery store’s stockroom as four Black Mountain Guardsmen took turns, along with the kid, Billy, keeping watch. The power was out, but enough daylight was spilling through the skylights to see by.
    Lisa, the woman from the parking lot who had lured them inside the store, was standing guard. Ed wished he’d followed his instincts and simply shot her and the kid when he first saw them. But that would have freaked Brent out, big time, just as it had with Teagan when he took out those men in the gas station.
    One more reason I should’ve fucking gone alone.
    Ed glared at Lisa, lounging in a reclining leather office chair — the kind where executives sat, not the hourly workers — while thumbing through a stack of magazines left behind on the crate by either the guards, or maybe some of the vanished employees before the world went adios.
    Lisa hadn’t sent more than a few words in their direction since their capture, at least anything beyond the occasional order to, “Shut the fuck up!” or the vague promise that she’d tell them the shit they needed to know, when they needed to know it.
    Ed had overheard enough from the others last night while pretending to sleep, and he figured he knew enough to know what was going on.
    Ed said, “They’re not coming back for you.”
    “Excuse me?” she said, looking up from her magazine. Her response sent Ed from suspicion to certainty - Lisa would love for Ed to give her an excuse to use the Remington 870 propped against the wall beside her.
    “I said they’re not coming back. The rest of your squad.” Ed grinned. “How long since you last heard anything?”
    Lisa ignored Ed and turned to Brent. “You wanna tell your friend to shut his face?”
    Brent turned to Ed and smiled, “She said to shut your face.”
    Brent was in remarkably better spirits than Ed would’ve imagined. Perhaps, he figured, it was because Lisa, and the others, had been far nicer to Brent than they had to Ed. They were treating Ed like he was some sort of treasonous spy, while practically apologizing to Brent for the inconvenience of holding him hostage. Ed figured they were working Brent in preparation for splitting the two of them up — to help turn Brent against Ed, in hopes that he’d surrender intel on Black Island.
    “You know that isn’t protocol, right?” Ed said. “I don’t know how different Black Mountain is from the Island, but way I figure, protocols can’t be that different. Little things, sure. But not something like, don’t ever fucking contact your squad. Something happened. So the only question is, how long are we gonna sit here and wait for more of them aliens to come at us?”
    “Until I