Season 1 Finale
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to let him know” Penny replies, the voice on the other end of the line thanking her for her time, a gentle tap of the screen ending her call. Mouth agape, Penny turns around to look at Avon, the man sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hands, only a smile greeting the woman. “Why is your publisher telling me you’re starting the book from scratch?” Penny asks, her arms crossed as she leans against the wall, looking at her husband.
“Because I’m starting over from scratch” Avon responds, the mug gripped well between the palms of his hands, eyes squinting for a moment as he continues, “why, does ‘starting from scratch’ mean something else these days?” With a loud huff, Penny’s arms fall to her side, the woman turning toward the bedroom without another word, the gesture being one that Avon takes interest in.
“You seem annoyed” Avon calls out, his playful expression having turned into intrigue, the woman not replying to his conclusions, her attention being given to the room at the end of the hall. “Pen?” Avon calls out, still sat at the table waiting for a response that doesn’t come, a small, yet present paranoia coming over the man, fueling a need to hear her response.
“Penny?” Avon calls out once more, his body leaving the chair, carried down the hallway by his legs, which grow tense the longer a response is not offered. “Penny, I-” Avon calls out once more, turning into the couple’s shared bedroom to find the woman removing her shirt, the white tanktop being pulled by her crossed arms over her head. Turning to her husband, Penny looks on without a word, gesturing for a reason for why he followed her into the room.
“I just… did” Avon replies, his response being broken into parts, the man not having much of an explanation himself. “Why do you care about the book?” Avon asks, the woman visibly shaking off the awkwardness of the encounter as she responds. “It’s the only thing you’ve been working on since Beth disappeared” Penny replies, tossing the white shirt into a hamper in the back of the room, “I figured you wouldn’t want to let all that work go to waste.”
“Oh” Avon responds, tucking his hands into his pockets as his wife looks back at him, her eyelids raised as if she were questioning the short response. “Oh? That’s all? Just… Oh?” Penny replies, narrowing her eyelids at her husband’s sight. “I was just curious about why you found that odd, that’s all” Avon responds, shoulders lifting toward the sides of his neck, nodding toward the woman before departing the room.
“Is something going on?” Penny calls out, waiting a few seconds before her husband returns to the room, asking her to repeat the question. “You’ve been really distant from me for the last week or so, focusing on your book and all” Penny replies, unfolding a second shirt in her hand, “is there something going on with you?” Pulling his lips shut, Avon stares off into his train of thought before shaking his head, “no, nothing that I can think of.”
Eyelids lifted and mouth slightly ajar, Penny accepts the man’s response, no verbal response leaving her mouth, only a shrug being given from her shoulders. “Is there something that you think is going on?” Avon asks, the back and forth beginning to irk the woman, whose tone gets slightly more condescending, an antagonistic edge prevailing through her words. “You’re throwing away the only thing you’ve focused on all week, so yeah… Something feels off” Penny responds, Avon’s head jerking back.
“Am I supposed to just forget about the woman that went missing and go back to being my usual self?” Avon asks, watching the woman throw a tight green shirt over her shoulders, “I don’t understand what you’re asking.” With a sigh, the woman pulls her hair from beneath her collar and looks into the mirror, attempting to throw away the conversation the way her husband intends to do so with the book.
“Just forget it, it’s nothing important” Penny replies, reaching into the drawers of the vanity table as the man continues to speak. “No, it sounds like you’re getting at something and I want to know what” Avon responds, slowly walking toward the woman, looking at the reflection of her face in the mirror as she applies eyeliner. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, that’s all I’m getting at” Penny replies, head tilted upwards, “something seems off and I can notice it.”
“There’s nothing off, I just want to portray a different side of the story” Avon responds, his tone having changed from confrontive to combative, “why does that have to be so confusing?” The return of the eyeliner brush to the bottle it was pulled from making a popping sound upon its return, Penny explains to the man that she was merely curious, attempting to end the conversation Avon becomes very willing to carry on.
“You brought it up like there was something wrong with it and I want to know why” Avon explains, Penny walking away from the vanity with a brown jacket on, a small purse draped over her shoulder. “Can we please end this conversation?” Penny asks, her polite request masked by an aggravated tone, Avon refusing to do so as easily as she does. “No, I want to talk about this!” Avon replies, his voice getting louder as he follows his wife down the hallway, “are you mad at me or something?”
“I’m going to get really mad if you keep insisting on having this conversation, Avon… So please, drop it” Penny responds, turning the corner to push her feet into the slip-on shoes left by the door. “Why is this such a big deal?” Avon asks, noting the tension between the two and her question having started the conversation to begin with, “this is escalating really quickly and that’s not happening for no reason.”
In a moment, Penny suddenly turns around, a question leaving her lips before her eyes can even stumble upon her husband. “Were you hooking up with Beth?” Penny asks, the man pulling away in shock, the sudden raising of such an out-of-the-blue question catching him by surprise. “What?” Avon asks, his head leant forward, eyes squinted as if he were questioning his wife’s mental stability.
“I get grieving, but we knew her for two and a half weeks and the two of you got really close before she vanished” Penny explains, now outright confronting her husband, “were you and Beth having sex?” Mouth wide open, Avon’s hand lifts to the side of his head, visually expressing the shock coming over him. “No, I never had sex with Beth, and I never gave it so much as even a thought” Avon replies, still unable to form his sentences without verbalizing his confusion.
“Well Anne seems to think otherwise, and she brings up a few good reasons as to why” Penny responds, only further adding onto the loss for words Avon takes on in the moment. “Then Anne is a fucking idiot, Pen” Avon replies, walking forward before placing his hands on both of his wife’s arms, leaning his face closer to hers. “I would never look at another woman the way that I look at you” Avon explains, his voice soft, welcoming in a way that Penny can’t accommodate in the moment.
“I’m sorry, I’m gonna be late” Penny responds, pulling her head away from Avon before her body follows suit, quickly walking through the door, slamming it shut behind her. “Honey!” Avon calls out before the house shakes from the door’s closing, a sigh leaving his mouth as the house suddenly becomes too small to house him. “Remedy Hills, you’re going to be the death of me” Avon mutters beneath his breath, head shaking from one side to another as he walks toward his back door.
= Remedy Hills is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =
“This guy is the closest thread we have to connect Rico Martinez to the killings, don’t go heating up that head of yours” Jake warns, Beau passing off the suggestion as just that. “I mean it Beau” Jake replies, the younger officer meeting the eyes of his older partner, “no screw ups.”
“You’re not gonna get one” Beau responds, his face holding the poise of an officer with his career on the line, legacy dependent on one call he’s now confronted with making. “I know you won’t, partner” Jake replies, flashing the man a smile as his eyes return to the road, the massive hospital building just over the horizon.
Their vehicle turning into the hospital parking lot, Jake and Beau emerge from the cruiser with their eyes zipping around the parking area. “Black van, over near the south entrance” Jake exclaims, finger pointed toward the vehicle mentioned in the note, a discovery that fuels Beau’s excitement to finally be pulling at the longest thread thus far. “Detective Beau Donovan radioing in” the sharp officer calls in, “we’ve got confirmation on a wanted fugitive at the Remedy Clinic.”
“Plates match” Jake calls out, returning to his partner, hand placed upon his weapon. “Calling in for backup, fugitive is to be considered armed and dangerous” Beau explains, “it’s a heavily-populated area, please keep such status in mind.” With a deep breath, Beau looks to Jake, a smile refusing to hide behind his lips, “you ready?”
“I’m ready to get this shit over with, that’s for sure” Jake responds, entering the emergency clinic beside his young partner. “Detective Jake Mansoor, this is my partner Detective Beau Donovan” Jake greets the front desk, “this building needs to be put under lock down as soon as possible, and we’re going to need to be pointed in the direction of Toga Tungovilla’s bed.”
Their directions offered, the detectives advance as swiftly as the hospital staff does, their eyes glancing at every sign they walk across, only one set of words subjected to their attention. After a short few seconds, the pair arrive at their destination, staff already starting to conspicuously hurry into lockdown routine, Jake and Beau staring into a sea of open beds disrupted by the sight of one closed curtain.
“That’s the one” Jake mutters beneath his breath, both he and Beau pulling their weapons, aim taken at the sectioned-off bed. Silently, Jake lifts one finger into the air, adding a second beside it with a third pending, both officers taking in a final breath before Jake tugs at the thin sheet. “Police, hands where we can see them!” Beau shouts, a man in a black suit once having stood over Tago’s injured body now caught by surprise, jolting back at the detective’s presence.
Refusing to be taken into custody, the man reaches into his pocket, fingers failing to reach for a weapon before his jaw shifts the moment Jake’s pistol collides with his face, taking him to the floor, dazed and confused. “Kirk Brunei, you’re under arrest for escaping custody” Jake begins, reading the likely-concussed man his Miranda Rights as Beau watches on, noticing something peculiar about the man’s appearance.
“If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you” Jake concludes, his name called for by his partner, who lifts one finger toward the man’s face. “What’s that on his lip?” Beau asks, Jake’s hand violently tugging at Kirk’s head, presenting the corner of his mouth to the younger officer, a dried-blue stain running down his chin. “Drink a bottle of food coloring?” Jake asks, mocking the criminal as he slumps upon his knees, nearly unconscious.
“Let’s get this scumbag in the car” Jake calls to Beau, his request for assistance drowning out Kirk’s own muttered breaths, something which Beau notices. “Hold on!” Beau exclaims toward Jake, one hand raised toward the older detective, a question being raised toward the criminal, “what did you say?”
His eyes barely opening, Kirk lifts his head toward the younger officer and uses his remaining strength to repeat his previous answer. “Poison” the escaped convict replies, beginning to seize almost on command, his body violently spasming in Jake’s grasp. “We’ve got a victim in here!” Jake shouts, calling for any on-duty medic as Beau’s attention is taken elsewhere, Kirk’s thrashing body being handed to the oncoming doctors.
“Do you hear that?” Beau asks, looking toward a breathless Jake, the older officer still on his hands and knees, his deep breaths falling away to allow the faint sound of something beeping. “Where’s that noise coming from?” Beau wonders aloud, every machine registering Tago’s current health having been powered off long ago, no reasonable source of the sounds being immediately afforded to the baffled officers.
Rummaging through the machines, Beau tries to locate the ever-quickening beeping sound, coming up short at every turn until Jake begins to speculate. “I think it’s coming from inside the patient” Jake exclaims, looking at Tago’s body as Beau checks for a pulse. “This guy’s dead, Jake” Beau responds, leaning into the body and pressing his ear to the chest, the faint beeping growing louder the closer he gets to the corpse.
“Yeah, the beeping’s coming from inside…” Beau begins, stopping himself mid-sentence as he turns away from Jake, looking back at Tago, “...coming from inside the body.” His eyes wide, Beau darts his head back toward Jake, who figures out what’s going on in the same moment as his partner. “Everyone get out of the building!” Beau shouts, he and Jake dashing away from the emergency room, calling for the complete evacuation of the premises.
Fighting off the urge to fall asleep at the wheel, Beth keeps her car driving through the pouring rain, the terrible conditions and dark night sky coming as nothing to her. Despite the struggle to keep her eyes open without forcing them to remain apart, Beth’s focus remains largely awake, her eyes periodically glancing back at the set of headlights in her rear-view mirror.
Shaking her head with her bottom lip held between her teeth, Beth refuses to stop, continuing to press her foot to the pedal, using the acceleration of her vehicle to keep herself in the moment. Each time her car would speed up, the vehicle behind her would do the same, the pace between the traveling souls behind their respective wheels remaining equally balanced.
Dissatisfied, Beth takes the gesture a notch further, pressing further upon the gas pedal, veering across lanes without care upon the empty, soaked roadways. A grin on her face, Beth stares into the rear-view mirror with her eyes stolen by the headlights, flickering twice directly behind her. Without care over the rain, the life flooding through Beth’s veins begins to feel grander than it has since her attack, finger pressing the button allowing the windows to open, her interior becoming soaked.
Throwing care into the wind, Beth presses further down upon the gas pedal, her middle finger raised into the rain as she challenges death to a staring contest, refusing to let her eyelids reconnect for another second. Wheels spitting water upon the vehicle behind her, Beth continues onwards, pressing her foot to the pedal until it hits the floor, rubber screeching upon the wet grounds, the headlights behind her now exclusively flickering on and off, trying to capture her attention.
With a smile, Beth feels her body press against the cushions of her driver’s seat, the exceeding speed of the vehicle, now passing one hundred and ten miles per hour, forcing her into its cushioned embrace. Spinning the steering wheel when necessary, Beth continues to zip through each lane with reckless abandon, the following vehicle falling further behind with each glance she takes at the rear-view mirror.
Everything else being dulled down, Beth’s eyes widen as her eyes remain fixated on the road ahead, only the sound of her own breaths registering with her brain. Feeling less restrained than she ever has before, not an inkling of fear surrounds her, all reasons she’s ever held to feel weighed down in life lifting with each tick higher on the odometer. With a smile, Beth continues to rest her foot upon the gas pedal, the steering wheel becoming noticeably harder to control.
Instinctively, Beth removes her foot from the gas, placing it upon the floor as her eyes latch onto the steering device gripped tightly within her palms, fear beginning to creep back in as the odds swing drastically within the grim reaper’s favor. Rain still sneaking in through the open slot in her door, Beth loses all control of her vehicle, the speed declining substantially as her wheels scream across the ground.
Spinning in the opposite direction, the metal husk surrounding the woman now rips through the air directly toward a concrete barrier, the acceptance of her impending crash bringing a haunting relief over the woman. With a deep breath, time begins to slow, and every move Beth makes begins to feel like an eternity, her eyes closing tightly as she grabs at whatever she can, bracing for impact as her vehicle slams into the wall, mangling itself and destroying the stone structure.
Catching up to the shredded corpse of Beth’s car, the following vehicle screeches to a halt, sliding across the wet ground before parking in the middle of the road. Exiting his vehicle, Harlington races up to the side of the mangled husk, climbing atop anything solid enough to stand upon and looking into whatever remains inside. “Beth!” Harlington shouts, continuing to call the woman’s name without success, the emergency system programmed into the car calling for help amidst his pleas.
With a grunt, Harlington returns to his car and pops the hood, removing a crowbar from beneath a blanket and returning to the car. Stealing the two license plates first, Harlington begins to take the tool to the bludgeoned metal, ripping away at the vehicle’s exterior before stumbling upon a hand, the bruised knuckles flopping out of the unrecognizable window like a dead fish.
Continuing to pry at the husk, Harlington creates an opening big enough to rip a heavily-injured Beth from the driver’s seat, a pulse present in her body, giving the man hope. “Why the hell couldn’t you slow down, Beth!?” Harlington asks the woman’s unconscious body, trying to figure out a backup plan until sirens arise from the near-distance. “Okay, sorry for the invasion of privacy, Beth” Harlington exclaims, pulling the woman up by the waist and carrying her into his car.
Glancing at each end of the highway, Harlington finds the source of the faint, flashing police lights and returns to his car, Beth’s body tossed carelessly into his backseat. “Why can’t you make things easier on the two of us?” Harlington asks the woman, still obtaining no response. Clearing in an instant, the rain ceases, and a heavy fog comes over the highway before the police cruisers can come into view, the display putting an instant smile upon the man’s face.
“Thanks for looking over us, Remedy” Harlington exclaims, putting the vehicle in drive and driving on, cautiously advancing forward as his headlights pierce the dense sight-obscurer.
“And you just left?” Anne asks, Penny throwing her arms out by her side without an argument for otherwise. “What else was I supposed to do?” Penny shouts back, fighting with the music to ensure her voice prevails, “I opened a can of worms that I couldn’t close back up, there was nothing I could do other than walk away!”
Shaking her head, Anne takes another sip of her drink before quietly glancing back toward the woman, her eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “So do you believe him?” Anne asks, Penny looking back at her, strangely not having expected that question, “I mean, what do you think?” Looking away, Penny scratches at the back of her neck, unable to maintain eye contact as she considers the options afforded to her.
“I don’t believe he would be having an affair” Penny replies, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, returning her eyes to those of her friend’s, “I know who he is, and I know he wouldn’t do that.” Nodding, Anne accepts the woman’s answer, lifting her glass into the air as she waits for Penny to do the same. “To trusting Avon” Anne exclaims, a gesture which puts a smile on Penny’s face, the woman tapping her glass upon her friend’s.
“Two ladies sitting alone at a bar?” a man randomly exclaims, he and his friend taking seats beside each woman, “it must be a good sign for us.” Shaking his head, a second man, this one sat beside Penny, apologizes for his friend’s introduction. “I think he’s had enough to drink to be comfortable, but not enough to warrant being kicked out” the friendlier man explains, his hand being extended toward Penny, “I’m Poe, that’s Ryan.”
Appreciative of Poe’s kind redemption of his friend’s sloppy greeting, Penny reciprocates the hand shake, Anne doing the same for the muscular physique of his buzzed friend. “The two of you live in Remedy, or are you coming in from out of town?” Poe inquires, starting the conversation off light. “I’ve lived here since I was born, but went to medical school in Chicago” Anne responds, her eyes turning toward Penny, “my friend here moved in recently.”
“Oh, you’re the new girl?” Poe asks, a question which brings upon a shy demeanor from Penny, the woman beginning to fear being covered in the booze of an angry resident. “I don’t mean to treat you like that, I hate what they’re doing to you guys up there” Poe explains, a still-reluctant Penny smiling at the man’s understanding response, voicing her appreciation.
“So you already know that I’m married, right?” Penny clarifies, the man assuring her that he isn’t intending on making an advance. “It seems like they’re getting along pretty well” Poe says, he and Penny watching the flirtatious banter between Anne and Ryan, “I’m just looking to make conversation with a much less drunk friend.”
“Well, I guess you have your less drunk fri-” Penny replies, stopped the moment a thunderous crash resonates from beyond the bar’s walls, the music having been completely overtaken by the sounds of terrified screaming. The entire complex shaking, the intermingling foursome hold onto whatever they can find, cautiously emerging from the embrace of their surroundings once the ground settles down.
“The sky is on fire!” a voice shouts from the entrance, the doors open to release the inhabitants of the bar onto the streets beyond, a crowd emerging onto the sidewalks. “Excuse me!” Beth shouts, pulling Anne through the crowd as Ryan and Poe follow alongside, helping to part the crowd until they emerge at the front of it. Over the treeline, the sky glows a brilliant orange as a massive fireball encompasses the distance, car alarms blaring as shattered glass litters the streets.
From their purses, Penny and Anne remove their beepers, their presence being called for by a single pair of words that bring horror over their faces. “Code green, all presence needed” the pagers read, Penny and Anne staring at each other with their eyes wide, hesitating for a moment before running off to their vehicles.
Sliding his back door open, Avon emerges onto his porch, leaning over his railing with his eyes placed upon the treeline, a massive plume of orange-highlighted smoke billowing into the air. No expression on his face, Avon stares coldly at the billowing sight of destruction, eyelids pulling closer together as his eyes drop lower. With a huff, Avon approaches his staircase, stepping onto the soft grass with his bare feet before switching on the spotlights.
Nodding to himself, Avon looks out at the one figure standing at the point where the woodlands end and his backyard begins. Not taking another step, Avon stares down the criminal, refusing to make the first move, instead leaning against the side of his porch. Silent, Avon stares out at the man, not moving another muscle as his eyes continue refusing to stray.
From the distance, the lone wanderer steps forward calmly, both hands held by his side, refusing to move them. Taking this as the gesture he was looking for, Avon gives in, stepping away from his porch with the intent of meeting the man halfway. The grass slipping between his toes, Avon’s impending encounter mirrors nothing of the scene surrounding him, a luscious embrace of nature challenged by the breaching of chaos and anonymity.
Taking his final step, Avon allows the figure to come to him, a gesture which the mysterious man beneath the mask doesn’t take liking to, but obliges to in sincerity. “Am I going to get an answer to my question now? Am I going to be executed? Am I going to find out who you are?” Avon asks, the figure waiting to reply out of respect for the man’s cooperation, “what is this, and why are you choosing to do it under these circumstances?”
Raising one hand, the figure slowly slips the second into his long trench coat, removing a disc from within, a few pieces of paper taped to the cover of the case. “I’ve heard you’re intending to write a different side of the story” the figure responds, its voice soft and empathetic in comparison to what Avon had been expecting, not an ounce of evil carried behind it, “we’d suggest you look into this before you get to work.”
“What is it?” Avon replies, his eyes looking toward the case before returning to the figure, the cloaked man stood directly beneath the distant sight of the billowing flames. “In two words...” the figure responds, taking two steps forward before removing his mask, his identity being offered to Avon, and Avon exclusively, “...the truth.”
Slipping the mask over his face once more, the figure turns away from the subject of his visit and returns to the place in which his flock would normally occupy, leaving a confused Avon standing in the center of his lawn with the group’s version of a deranged goodie bag. Returning to the woodlands, the figure leaves Avon behind, the man’s eyes glancing back toward the fire for a moment before vanishing into the night.
In a moment intended to be sincere, the figure nods toward Avon, turning away for the final time before reuniting with the darkness, Avon’s head tilting down to his newly-uncovered writing material. Walking back to his home, Avon turns back toward the woodlands with the spotlights powered off, taken away once more by the sight of the billowing smoke before sliding the door shut.
Turning back to his laptop, Avon takes a seat at his table and stares into the screen, pages upon pages documented before his eyes. Turning back toward the notes and video collection, Avon takes a deep breath and highlights every word he’s typed since entering town, a light blue glow looming over every character. With one swipe, Avon presses two keys, one in the bottom left corner, and the other in the top right corner, wiping them from the screen and reuniting himself with a blank canvas.
== Remedy Hills ==