Yesterday's Gone (Season 5): Episodes 25-30 by Sean Platt, David Wright Page B
Authors: Sean Platt, David Wright
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response.
**
Marina woke to another bell.
The old man was standing over her, again.
“Are you ready to train?”
“Fuck you.”
The man said nothing, turned, and headed toward the door.
“Wait!” she yelled.
Without waiting, he left her alone.
Marina screamed.
“You can’t just keep me here! I have a church! A board of directors to answer to! People relying on me for their living! You can’t just keep me here!”
No response.
**
Again Marina woke to the scent of soup.
She wasn’t sure how many days had passed her. So far, she’d been brought the same meal four times with no regard for time. Apparently, soup wasn’t just lunch or dinner, it was her only meal. Still, Marina was just hungry enough to look forward to the broth.
By her estimation, she was nearing the end of her second day being locked in the room. This must be dinner.
The book she’d thrown at the door the day before was back on the bed when she opened her eyes. The pages were still blank.
Marina figured that this was the sort of thing the cult did to new members. A way of slowly breaking her down until she was susceptible to whatever religion they planned to indoctrinate her into. The Church of Original Design had its own methods of doing the same, though not as extreme — until you reached the higher levels and went away to retreats.
They apparently don’t know who they’re messing with if they think they can convert me.
She finished her soup and continued to stare at the door, wondering when it might open.
Part of her wanted to attack the next person who stepped through the doorway. The old man was fast, but still old. She might be able to knock him down, at least long enough to run out into the hall. But what then?
Would she search the monastery’s every room until she found the vials? Even if she managed to find them, Marina doubted she’d do so easily or without interference. And even if she managed to get the vials and was able to leave without incident, she still had no idea how to handle the situation with Steven.
What could she do? Call the police and tell them that he was infected with some kind of alien? She couldn’t rely on her security, as he’d been the head. Marina had to assume that her entire team was compromised.
As much as she hated to admit it, Marina needed Acevedo. Her father had sent her to him for a reason, and she had to trust instincts that were proving far less insane than she once thought.
Marina finished her soup and stared at the empty book.
**
She woke to the bell and the old man standing over her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
* * * *
CHAPTER 8 — MARINA HARMON
Three weeks later
As Marina waited for Acevedo in a downstairs chamber, she couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she and the Father would get around. Did he have a car? Or did he surrender an old life at the monastery door? Marina felt naked and not just because she was wearing jeans and a shirt that weren’t hers. She’d never had a chance to grab her cell, purse, credit cards, or anything when Steven dragged her from bed and locked her in the estate’s subterranean crypt.
She’d gone from heading one of the nation’s most powerful religions — someone nested firmly in the top one-percent — to no one in hours.
She hated feeling so exposed, so at fate’s mercy.
Marina hardly recognized Acevedo when he met her in the chamber. He was wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a matching leather jacket. A gun’s butt peeked from beneath the black leather.
A monk, or Father, with a pistol?
He’d also cleaned the blood which dimmed his apparent insanity, even if his brown eyes were still very intense. He looked like a cop, or a soldier, on a mission.
“How did your training go?” he asked.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Well, I see that you’re here, so obviously you passed. But no, Ondo didn’t tell me how you did.”
Ondo? Until now, she’d not
**
Marina woke to another bell.
The old man was standing over her, again.
“Are you ready to train?”
“Fuck you.”
The man said nothing, turned, and headed toward the door.
“Wait!” she yelled.
Without waiting, he left her alone.
Marina screamed.
“You can’t just keep me here! I have a church! A board of directors to answer to! People relying on me for their living! You can’t just keep me here!”
No response.
**
Again Marina woke to the scent of soup.
She wasn’t sure how many days had passed her. So far, she’d been brought the same meal four times with no regard for time. Apparently, soup wasn’t just lunch or dinner, it was her only meal. Still, Marina was just hungry enough to look forward to the broth.
By her estimation, she was nearing the end of her second day being locked in the room. This must be dinner.
The book she’d thrown at the door the day before was back on the bed when she opened her eyes. The pages were still blank.
Marina figured that this was the sort of thing the cult did to new members. A way of slowly breaking her down until she was susceptible to whatever religion they planned to indoctrinate her into. The Church of Original Design had its own methods of doing the same, though not as extreme — until you reached the higher levels and went away to retreats.
They apparently don’t know who they’re messing with if they think they can convert me.
She finished her soup and continued to stare at the door, wondering when it might open.
Part of her wanted to attack the next person who stepped through the doorway. The old man was fast, but still old. She might be able to knock him down, at least long enough to run out into the hall. But what then?
Would she search the monastery’s every room until she found the vials? Even if she managed to find them, Marina doubted she’d do so easily or without interference. And even if she managed to get the vials and was able to leave without incident, she still had no idea how to handle the situation with Steven.
What could she do? Call the police and tell them that he was infected with some kind of alien? She couldn’t rely on her security, as he’d been the head. Marina had to assume that her entire team was compromised.
As much as she hated to admit it, Marina needed Acevedo. Her father had sent her to him for a reason, and she had to trust instincts that were proving far less insane than she once thought.
Marina finished her soup and stared at the empty book.
**
She woke to the bell and the old man standing over her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
* * * *
CHAPTER 8 — MARINA HARMON
Three weeks later
As Marina waited for Acevedo in a downstairs chamber, she couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she and the Father would get around. Did he have a car? Or did he surrender an old life at the monastery door? Marina felt naked and not just because she was wearing jeans and a shirt that weren’t hers. She’d never had a chance to grab her cell, purse, credit cards, or anything when Steven dragged her from bed and locked her in the estate’s subterranean crypt.
She’d gone from heading one of the nation’s most powerful religions — someone nested firmly in the top one-percent — to no one in hours.
She hated feeling so exposed, so at fate’s mercy.
Marina hardly recognized Acevedo when he met her in the chamber. He was wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a matching leather jacket. A gun’s butt peeked from beneath the black leather.
A monk, or Father, with a pistol?
He’d also cleaned the blood which dimmed his apparent insanity, even if his brown eyes were still very intense. He looked like a cop, or a soldier, on a mission.
“How did your training go?” he asked.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Well, I see that you’re here, so obviously you passed. But no, Ondo didn’t tell me how you did.”
Ondo? Until now, she’d not
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