Yesterday’s Gone: Episode One: Part 2

We’re so thrilled to share the post-apocalyptic serialized thriller Yesterday’s Gone with you that we’re posting the first episode, FOR FREE, right here at Serialized Fiction all month long in October.

In typical serialized fiction format, we’re presenting Episode One in serialized format. A new chapter every M,W,F, all month long!

If you missed Part One, check it out here.

MARY OLSON

Saturday

October 15, 2011

morning

Warson Woods, Missouri

Mary woke up sticky.

Another dream about Ryan, the sixth one in the last two weeks. Weird. She probably hadn’t thought of him for a month before that. Or longer. Though she couldn’t help but picture her ex from time to time since their daughter was his spitting image — well, a cuter, girly version, anyway.

Mary turned over and buried her face in the pillow. She hated dreaming about him, and really hated when they were sex dreams.

He’d never stop being inside her, but he hadn’t actually been there in three years. They’d been divorced for two, but once she found out about Natalie Farmer, the bitch that was 10 years too young and as perky as a sitcom schoolgirl, she couldn’t touch him without a shudder.

She hated him for the innocence he stole and the lives he abused. But a large part of her could never forget the way he made her feel — the way he made her laugh, the way that, for no reason at all, he used to slip behind her and whisper treasures in her ear. The way he truly seemed to love her and their daughter, Paola. And the way he always reassured her that everything would be okay, even if he only did so in her dreams.

Mary rarely slept past seven. During the week, Paola had to be at school by nine and they usually left by eight because Paola liked to go early. Unlike most 12 year olds, Paola would wake early even on the weekends. Sometimes, Paola would join Mary for some early morning yoga before Mary worked a few hours on the greeting cards that paid for the $1.1 million house high on a hill in Warson Woods, just outside St. Louis – no thanks to Ryan.

A million dollars bought a palace in Warson Woods, the kind of house Mary liked most, even though it made her feel guilty all the time. Her cousin lived outside L.A. He said nothing was for less than $350,000 unless you were willing to settle for bullet holes.

It was probably thinking about bullet holes that made Mary realize how quiet the house was. More than usual. She sat up in bed. More than quiet – eerie. The trees were swaying, but that was it. No birds chirping. No dogs barking. And no lawnmowers. In Warson Woods, people loved lawns like children, and spoiled them the same, either themselves or through their teams of landscapers. Mary started calling lawnmowers the “Missouri Symphony” the second week she moved in. To not hear lawnmowers on a Saturday morning made her briefly question whether she’d slept straight through to Monday.

Mary left the bed and padded toward the stairs. She needed coffee. That would help the oddness fade. The hallway was dark. Mary flicked a light but nothing happened. She sighed and kept walking. One million for a house, fine, but everything should work.

She would have a hard enough time this morning without light, but being without caffeine might make it impossible. So she wasn’t happy when her new Keurig wouldn’t work either. Maybe there was an outage in the neighborhood? A sudden chill iced her insides. It wasn’t logical, but it came from the place that keeps its eyes peeled for the stuff logical doesn’t.

“Paola?”

Paola didn’t answer, but the Keurig rumbled to life and started warming its water as the hall light came on and the air conditioner cycled on. She would’ve called for Paola a second time, but she didn’t have to. Paola called for her instead. “Mom!!!” Mom sounded like a war cry rattling from the throat of a warrior who knew she was about to die.

Mary was at the foot of the stairs in less than a second and all the way to the top in two after that. She flew through Paola’s open door. Her daughter was screaming at something out of view.

It was gone before Mary got there, but it had left Paola a vibrating mess. Mary tried to soothe her, but Paola pushed her away. “It’s okay, Honey.” Mary pulled her closer. Paola surrendered and Mary’s hands fell in a familiar pattern behind her daughter’s head.

“What was it?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know,” Paola shook her head. “I don’t know the words.”

“Try.”

“It was like,” Paola fell into a second fit of sobs. Mary continued to pet her. “It was like …” more sobbing, then, “It was like Daddy.”

“What? What do you mean, it was like your father?”

Paola shook her head. Her cheeks burned. “It was Daddy. He was in my room but he wasn’t. It was just him, but not all of him.”

“Your father was here?!” Mary could feel her white face making Paola’s redder.

“No.” Paola started to say something, then closed her mouth. A long three seconds passed, then, “It was like if a ghost was there without the ghost. Daddy, but not Daddy.”

“How do you know it was a ghost, or your father, if you couldn’t see anything?”

Paola just stared at her mother. “I’d know daddy anywhere.”

Her face cracked and she started to cry again as the power went off again.

**

It seemed to take longer than normal for Mary to calm Paola’s whimpers down to heavy breathing. Right when inhales and exhales were starting to meet, Paola broke the rhythm.

“Why is it so quiet?”

Mary had almost forgotten. “I’m not sure, honey. The power’s out and everything feels…”

“Wrong,” Paola finished.

“Yeah, wrong.” Mary stood and held out her hand for Paola. She was almost as tall as her mom, and would likely tower over her in another year or two. Paola followed her mom downstairs and into the kitchen. The coffee machine had died before it could produce enough for a cup. Frustrated, Mary went to the fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke for herself and poured some OJ for her daughter.

When they finished, Mary looked out the front window.

“Let’s go look outside.”

They walked the neighborhood that had gone from posh to ghost town overnight.

They peered through windows and into cars, and crossed well-manicured yards, starting at Mrs. Parker’s house on the corner, because she was the first to move into the sub-division and had made it family business to know everything about everyone every day since. She wasn’t home.

After two empty streets, they rounded the hill and hit the hiking trail, thinking there might be a neighborhood gathering they didn’t know about. The trails were empty, too. Odd for the weekend, when the housewives and retirees were usually out en masse.

They followed the trail, then rounded the avenue back to their street. They were surprised, and thrilled, to see someone standing in front of their house. It was their neighbor, Jimmy – Jim, as he’d been introducing himself since 8th grade, even though no one would listen. He was a head too tall for his age. That, along with his long dark hair that he let hang in his eyes, made him look a bit older than his 16 years. Any advantage he had in looking older was usurped by his immaturity. While he was generally a good kid, as far as Mary knew, he got into frequent trouble for skateboarding in the shopping center, trespassing at the pool after hours, skipping school, and the stuff that unfocussed kids generally did to pass away the time.

“What’d you find out Mrs. Olson?”

“Nothing,” Mary shook her head. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Other than the entire world going POOF!?” Jimmy made jazz hands, “I’ve no idea. I woke up, my mom and dad were AWOL. So were both my brothers. I figured they were fu … messing with me, but I can’t figure out the angle, plus there’d be no way they’d get the whole neighborhood to play the reindeer games.”

Jimmy seemed oddly unfazed by events.

Mary was about to ask him if the electricity was working in his house when her neighbor from the other side John, appeared in the distance. He was walking fast, directly toward them. Mary closed her mouth mid-sentence, Jimmy and Paola turned to see why.

“Thank God!” John was running toward them.

“What’s going on?” All three asked, hard to tell who was first.

“No idea. Jenny’s gone. No note. Nothing. She doesn’t even go downstairs without kissing me goodbye.”

It was true. With any other couple it would’ve been disgusting. But John and Jenny were probably the two nicest people alive. And so adorable and doting, it was almost creepy.

No one had a chance to console John, or consider Jenny, before a smoke-colored Audi appeared on the drive coming toward them. It was Desmond Armstrong, the neighbor from across the street. The Audi’s engine died but Desmond stayed inside. They could see him through the tinted windows, sitting and staring into space. It was an endless minute with no one knowing what to do. Finally, the door opened and Desmond put his boot on the grass.

“There’s no other way to say it,” Desmond shook his head. “The world is dead.”

* * * *

TO BE CONTINUED….  (go to Part 3)

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