Read Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone) for Free Online Page A

days, well fuck me in the face and show me where I can sign up for the union.” Boricio laughed, then added, “My my, how far the mighty Team Boricio has fallen.”
    Charlie looked up, “Do we really want to bag on him while he’s down. I’m sure he feels like shit enough, already.”
    Boricio’s eyes drilled into Charlie. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut in a rare moment of silence.
    “So, what are we gonna do?” Vic, the walking steroid case, asked, “We’re not gonna take this shit, are we?”
    “I dunno,” Boricio said, “Let’s ask Prince Charles, here. Do we want to make this shit straight, or should we just pack our bags, tuck our dicks in between our legs and cluck the fuck out of Dunn because One-Eyed Willy and his gang of cum-colored fucktards said to get off their turf?”
    “There’s enough homes and stores for all of us,” Callie said, ignoring Boricio’s usual   ranting. “Why did they rob us? It’s not like there’s that many people competing for resources, right? They’re the only ones we’ve seen, right?”
    “Well, them and The Prophet’s compound, but that’s about an hour away,” Charlie said. “Maybe supplies are drying up around Dunn? Or maybe they’re just acting now to get what they can before they do? Maybe they’ve run into other people left behind?”
    “Who gives a dickstick dipped in twat oil WHY they robbed us,” Boricio said, swinging his hands theatrically. “It’s Top Of The Food-Chain Time, kids! That means kill or be killed, whether you’re human or monster. I know Charlie and Adam here have this cozy notion that people are ‘nice’ and we ought to be a happy band of Mr. Rogers-types, taking off our shoes and wiping survivors’ asses if they can’t do it themselves. But when the cosmic shit hits the fan, people ain’t nothin’ but animals – hunter or prey. And in case any of you fuckers were in the bathroom tossing one off during intermission, Boricio is a hunter. The only question is what do you all wanna be?”
    “Hunters!” Vic shouted as he came back into the kitchen, fist in the air like he was rooting for his favorite wrestler.  
    Boricio smiled, “What about the rest of you?”
    Charlie and Callie were silent. Adam whispered, “Hunter,” avoiding eye contact with anyone.
    Boricio looked at Charlie, eyes wide and smile manic. “Well, what say you, Charles In Charge? Hunter or hunted?”
    “Hunter, but...”
    “Nope, nope, nope. No butts! Predator or prey. No middle ground, no gray areas, no nothing. Kill or be killed.”
    “I’m not down with killing people for no reason,” Charlie said. “When we passed those bikers on the road, there was no reason to do anything. Not at the time. Yeah, they gave us dirty looks, and there was a tense moment where it looked like they might make a move, but they didn’t do anything. They kept on going.”
    “Yeah, but apparently, they circled back,” Boricio said. “Maybe they followed us back here and have been watching us since, waiting with fangs. Fuck, maybe they’re in the bushes ready to rattle right now. Maybe they’re the smart ones here, and Team Boricio is a drooling bunch of dumbasses riding the short bus to the graveyard.”
    Vic looked like he’d been smacked in the face, then ran upstairs, back to his lookout post.
    “Listen, Charlie, I appreciate you’ve got a nice pink pussy side. But that’s the same side that had your step-daddy beatin’ the shit out of you, right? There’s no place in this world for nice; not no more. We’re an endangered species, and there ain’t no place for the weak. If you can’t pull the trigger, you’re already extinct.”
    “We all know what I’m capable of,” Charlie said, glaring back at Boricio. “Just ask Bob if I can pull the trigger. Oh yeah, you can’t. Can you?”
    Boricio smiled, “Fair enough, Chucky. Fair enough. But not everyone’s gonna give you an excuse like Bobby Big Boy. Sometimes,