Season 2 Finale
“We’re in the clear for now!” Lazarus calls, his hand motioning for a militia-followed Jaime to release herself from the cover of the fauna-covered escape tunnel she now knows exists. His rifle in hand, Lazarus approaches a small home, entering its front gates and returning minutes later with a pair of keys in hand. “Get her out of the city” Lazarus directs, the keys to an older-model station wagon being thrown to one of his subordinates. “I’m not going anywhere!” Jaime replies, her demands to be returned to her home falling on the ears of a man without a car for her comfort, but rather, her safety. “With all due respect, the time for me to take orders from you are not right now” Lazarus replies, insisting the possibility of the mob finding her home address being too great to take the chance on. “We’ll pull everyone else in the house out to you until this all cools over” Lazarus continues, leading Jaime into the backseat. A militia member to her right and left, Jaime finds herself covered as if she were the president in the middle of a napalm rainstorm. The barrels of their automatic rifles poking her knee, Jaime watches Jordan climb into the front seat, directing the driver towards Mount Cedar-Sinai. “What happens now?” Jaime asks, her power over Los Angeles seemingly meaning nothing now that the militia has taken command of how the city is overseen. “We let the mob cool down for the next few days, maybe weeks” Jordan replies, his answer sounding more like a prediction, its statements existing without facts. “So we just let them kill each other and then come back and treat it all like nothing ever happened?” the woman replies, her boyfriend looking over his shoulder at her. “Yes” Jordan responds, his face returning to the road ahead as Jaime begin staring aimlessly around the car, wondering why that answer is anything close to okay. In another vehicle, Alex, Kennedy and Amelia are all taken out of the area, led to the hospital space whilst Chris and Julia lead the pack, nearly at the front gates by the time Jaime left. Hurried through the streets, the vehicles pass by residents of their community wandering the roadways aimlessly until they notice the vehicles, interest in their inhabitants peaking as the chase to catch up with them begins. Beating the mob to the front gates, the entry is sealed by a massive metal gate and the passengers of each vehicle find themselves entering the hospital lobby. Led to a back room, Jaime and her group, minus Chevy and Kayla, are left to themselves, Lazarus’ militia closing the doors behind them. Tensions having escalated from zero to one-hundred in near-record time, Jaime is left to stare at the people she’s been left with in amazement. The confusion and loss of direction matched in each other their faces, matched in every one of their hearts, they are left to share the same, withered expression with the woman. The core group she’s fought through the entire aftermath beside before her eyes in the small room, Jaime’s eyes eventually find their way to Jordan, slumped forward in his chair with his head between his legs. Almost like they’re on a similar wavelength, the man feels Jaime looking at him, his head essentially telling itself to look up. His pout, his exhaustion suggesting he’s had enough of these seismic shifts, Jordan lets his shoulders shrug, his head shaking to signify that he has as many answers for where to go from here as Jaime does. Certainty non-existent and everything she’s worked for threatened to the edge of disaster, Jaime collapses into a chair, her head dropping. = Dire is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = Los Angeles remains split throughout the day, word of mouth, or lack there of, the only thing keeping thousands of Angelinos from being made aware of Jaime’s current location. Still, the gates of the medical center remain closed, hundreds of aware and angered Angelinos quickly beginning to build into greater numbers, awaiting the sight of the woman they believe to have wronged them. “Why is this happening?” Jaime asks, “why all of a sudden?” Her boyfriend now slumped backwards in his chair, Jordan informs her that they want their way or no one else can have theirs. “It’s been months, we’ve been doing this for months!” Jaime replies, “why is this only just happening?” The question without a clear answer, silence remains the most abundant element to be found within the walls, the preferred choice to just silently wait it out. Knowing what her responsibilities entail, Jaime finds herself quickly beginning to lose her composure, eventually pounding away on the locked door keeping her contained. “Let me out of here so I can put an end to all of this!” the woman shouts, the idea of being able to regain control of the mob feeling like a better option than regaining control of herself. Within a few seconds, Jordan pulls the woman away from the door, the woman giving in almost immediately, refusing to put up a fight. After a few moments, the door is opened, Julia informing Jordan that he is wanted by Lazarus in the main lobby. Doing as requested, Jordan tells Jaime to keep herself together until he gets back, which she answers by returning to Jordan’s seat and keeping it occupied for him. The room now down to four, Jaime glances towards Amelia, who holds her arms as if she were cold, the weird environment of being surrounded by an entire family she has no connection to making her slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry about your city” Jaime says, the genuine, yet humorous quote being the only thing to come to mind. “Not exactly my city, is it?” the girl asks, the irony of the question being directed at the city’s lead official being well-felt. | Broken glass snapping beneath her boots, Kayla leads Chevy and a small group of militia members through a rundown drugstore, the broken windows seen from the street not instilling them with much hope. “You don’t know what kind of people or what kind of animals are in here” Kayla whispers, a firearm raised in her hand as if she were expecting a murderer to leap out from cover and make an attempt on her life. Continuing to read off directions to the men behind her, Kayla feels a tapping on her shoulder originate from Chevy, who places a finger to his lip, suggesting she stay focused on what’s ahead. Once behind the counter, Kayla finds the shelving stripped bare, not even a half-empty bottle of aspirin left to take. “Not again” Kayla mutters, the gun falling to her hip as Chevy pats her on the back, directing the militia back the way they came. Day turning into night, the pair begin ascending the staircase of a beaten apartment complex, the smell of rotting bodies lining most of the halls. Their faces covered, the stench still finds its way into their noses, the fight to keep their lunch down gives them enough energy to keep moving forward. Finally reaching the roof, Kayla slams the door shut once the entirety of the group has followed her lead and locks it, the smell of fresh air finding greater appreciation than ever before. The light blue having turned to vibrant orange, which itself turned into dark blue, leading into the black night sky, all that illuminates the rooftop is a small fire heating a packaged dinner. “This is not what I thought the apocalypse would be” Chevy admits, tearing the plastic from his package with his teeth before adding some water and letting it boil, his statement finding similarities with everyone else he finds himself in the company of. “I thought we would’ve gotten zombies and shit” one of the militia mates states, another suggesting a meteor would have wiped most of the people out in an instant. “I didn’t think ‘instant pandemic, followed by oopsie’ would’ve won the bingo card” a third mate replies, the situation being poked fun at in order to keep the morale up. His arm wrapped around his girlfriend, Chevy begins staring at her, the smile on his face matching that of the first time he woke up to her. Unaware, Kayla continues the banter, listing off the other possibilities that could have befallen them, whilst Chevy remains fixated on her, grateful that she’s there, with him, in that moment. Eventually, the fun stops when a question is raised, one of the militia members leaping up from their seats and walking towards the rooftop’s concrete wall. “What is that?” the man asks, Chevy and Kayla walking up to join him in his curiosity. Though it mostly remains hidden by the treeline just ahead, a bright, mighty fire burns into the starry night sky, the smoke it brings with it billowing into oblivion. “Was it an accident?” one man asks, the size and visibility of the flames suggesting something massive to be burning in the skies. “Either something went wrong, or someone’s trying to draw attention to themselves” Chevy responds, the only two reasons behind such an attempt being laid out for interpretation. | Returning to the room hours later, Jordan walks up to Jaime and pulls her in for a hug, the relief on Jaime’s face when she notices the man to be more rejuvenated comforting the rest. “Lazarus wanted to run down our options, so that’s what we’ve been doing for the past few hours” Jordan explains, joking that the man is very stubborn about not letting Jaime back into the city until this all cools down. “So we came to the agreement that you should continue to govern from a little house a few miles out of Los Angeles” Jordan proclaims, the timespan remaining unclear. “They can’t take the risk of the hospital being run down now that people know you’re here” Jordan replies upon Jaime’s insistence that she govern from the building they already occupy. The agreement being made, Jordan tells his girlfriend that he will be with her at every step of the way. “I’ll be there, with you, we’ll have guards stationed and everything” Jordan continues, “everything will settle down and we’ll go back to the way it used to be.” His hands pressed to either side of her face, Jordan smiles and asks if she trusts him, which she quickly answers with a smile and a nod. Laying a kiss on her head, Jordan turns around to start getting everything into motion, Jaime’s smile turning into a concerned frown when his back is turned. With a deep breath, Jaime walks over to hug her mother and sister, the same hug being shared with Amelia before Lazarus enters the room. “We’re making accomodations for your family here in the building to keep them away from the mob’s reach” the man informs, the existence of a plan being more than enough to give Jaime hope that everything has the ability to return to normal. Within the hour, Alex and Kennedy are paired in one room, Amelia given another room next door. After settling in for a short while, Kennedy becomes restless, asking her mother permission to visit Amelia next door. When granted, Kennedy knocks on Amelia’s door and enters, seeing the girl in bed with a book in her hands. “You know you’re supposed to knock and then wait for the person to say ‘come in’, right?” Amelia asks, the girl shrugging before climbing beside her. “What are you reading?” Kennedy asks, the girl pulling the cover in Kennedy’s direction, the front of ‘My Side of the Mountain’ being read aloud. “What’s that about?” Kennedy asks, Amelia giving a rundown of what she thinks it’s supposed to be about. “I’ve never read it before, but it promised me an adventure, so I hope I won’t be disappointed!” Amelia replies, her laughter bringing out the laughter in Kennedy. “Is he winning?” Kennedy asks, Amelia chuckling at the remote concept of winning at surviving in the wilderness. “I’m at the part where he made a house inside a tree trunk” Amelia replies, “so clearly he’s living his best life.” Mentioning that he has a pet falcon as well, Amelia begins thinking aloud about how fun it would be to own a pet falcon, which derails the conversation entirely until she almost completely forgets about the book. Before long, two hours roll by and Alex walks into the room, the sight of her daughter still finding joy in a world that has changed the definition of life itself enough to put a smile on her face. “Oh shit!” Amelia exclaims, realizing how much time she lost track of, immediately apologizing for having kept Kennedy for so long. “Don’t worry about it” Alex replies, walking further into the room and taking a seat at the window. “My millionaire daughter is pretty much the mayor of a very angry Los Angeles now…” Alex states, a smile on her face when looking at Kennedy, “...at least one of my kids is having fun.” Noticing the disappointment Alex wears on her chest, Amelia reminds her that Jaime has done a great job. “You raised her well” Amelia comes to the conclusion of, Alex looking up to her with a frown in one corner of her face whilst she shakes her head. “She raised herself” Alex replies, the young girl just dropping her head. Directing her daughter towards the showers in order to get her ready for bed, Alex is left in the room with Amelia, the young girl putting a marker in her book and closing it, leaving it at her bedside. “Thank you for being there for Kennedy” Alex utters, the young girl turning towards her with a smile, “she’s a cool girl.” Walking towards the door, Alex stops and looks back to the young woman as she prepares for bed. “You’re a good role model” Alex declares, the statement putting a smile on Amelia’s face, who thanks Alex for her kind words. “It’s not just kind words” Alex replies, “you make this world a better place for people like my daughter… That’s just the truth.” Leaving the room, Alex lets the door close itself, the young girl left with the chip on her shoulder to figure out what comes next beginning to sprout a smile, her efforts finally noticed. Within that moment, as little as it was, the young girl begins to feel her mood turn around, a little good overcoming the feeling of being alone within an instant. | “I’m going to return to Los Angeles” Lazarus assures, making it clear that he will keep the residents under strict supervision. “I’ll have a team sent out shortly, just make it there before sunrise if you run into a flat tire or a roadblock” the man continues, handing Jordan the keys to a van stocked with supplies to last weeks. Shaking the man’s hand, Jordan thanks him for his efforts and splits off, the rear exit remaining the safer route. Julia and Chris just behind to send them off, Jaime and Jordan enter their final walk throughout Los Angeles for the time being, Jordan playing with the keys to keep from silence surrounding them at every angle. Inevitably, the keys slip out of his finger tips and fall to the ground, the man off-balance as he reaches down, sending him tumbling into a set of cafeteria doors just as the staircase comes into view. Apologizing, Jordan uses the bar of the door to support himself, his body weight being spared the collision with the tile floors. “I didn’t-” Jordan begins, laughter in his voice as the accident takes on the appearance of something worth laughing at himself over, only until shouts for his attention originate from inside. “What’s that?” Jordan asks, the doors already having been closed behind him as Chris scrambles to pick up the keys. “Just a schizo patient” Chris replies, his responsibility now resting with calming the patient down. “Jules, you escort them the rest of the way” Chris says, offering his sudden departing words before returning to the cafe, Julia escorting the pair the rest of the way. His smile vanishing, Chris bursts through the cafeteria doors with a scowl, anger encompassing his every motivation as he demands an answer to who was responsible for the outburst. In front of the man, large dog-sized cages line the walls and ground of the room, many stacked on top of each other. The kennels remain silent, no one answering for their deeds until one voice to Chris’ right owns up to the action. Redirecting himself, Chris approaches the kennel with a man slumped inside, his body positioned in such a way that he’s both standing and laying down. “Say that again” Chris orders, the man’s head tucked away from sight, aimed at the baron, concrete walls behind him. Slowly, the man faces Chris, disgust entrenching every nose scrunch and lip arch he makes. “It was me” Clayton says, his face bruised from a beating, his lip cut and his eye swollen. Enraged, Chris unlocks the cage and pulls the door out, ripping the man to the ground and beating on him further. The remaining prisoners silent, fearing the same outcome for them if they were to speak up, all watch the assault happen for themselves, the punches refusing to stop. “Say it again!” Chris shouts, the veins in his neck popping out as spit flies from his lips, Clayton’s collar in his clenched fists as the man struggles to keep down the blood. “I’m sorry” Clayton replies, a line of blood mixed with spit running from his mouth before Chris finally lets go. Kicking him whilst he’s down, Chris orders Clayton to crawl his way back into protection, the seconds that separate the order and the action feeling like minutes to those familiar with the sight. Once inside, the door slams shut, the metal rattling as the padlock is returned, Chris removing himself from the room and leaving his captives in the dark, only the light of an artificially-fogged window to afford them the luxury of their beaten fellow-prisoners misery. | “I know I’ve been saying it a lot tonight, but things will get better” Jordan says, cutting the silence as Jaime’s head remains pressed against the glass. “What was I supposed to do?” Jaime asks, genuinely interested in what Jordan’s approach would have been if put in the same position. “Should I have caved?” Jaime asks, running down every reason the residents would have had to act in the way they did. “I know it’s the whole western culture thing that anyone with the power to do whatever they want is automatically some evil dictator…” Jaime continues, “...But what else was I supposed to do?” Making suggestions, Jordan allows the girl every opportunity to argue against them. Giving in would have made her look weak, trying to negotiate would have made her look scared, putting her foot down resulted in already familiar ways. “Is there no way to win?” Jaime asks, her head turned towards Jordan, who keeps his eyes pressed to the road ahead. “Probably not” the man replies, admitting that he’s gradually come to understand why Django was such an ‘uptight bastard.’ “I’m not saying he was right in what he was doing” Jordan explains, “but I can see why you’d believe the career politician wasn’t born an egregious cunt straight out of the womb.” Chuckling, Jaime looks towards the man, who asks her what’s so funny about his statement. “I don’t usually hear you swear unless you’re mad” Jaime answers, the man beginning to laugh, the ride beginning to feel like just another late night drive like they used to share. After a few minutes of silence, Jaime’s head lifts from the window again, her face turned towards the man, the words she wishes to speak already on her mind. “Marry me” Jaime says, the man smiling, glancing towards her for a moment before doing a double take, eventually parking the car on the side of the empty highway. “Are you serious?” Jordan asks, the woman smiling from ear to ear, nodding excitedly as the man responds with a simple ‘okay, I will’. The car starting again, Jaime sits back into her seat as the drive continues, eagerly keeping her want to jump for joy at a minimum. After a few more minutes, Jordan pulls the car onto the off-ramp, a clearing in the trees made even more noticeable by a massive tower of fire in the distance. “You see that, right?” Jaime asks, the man pulling the car onto the side of the road again, both exiting the vehicle and staring in amazement. Much like the Grenfell Tower, a massive residential complex burns beneath the night sky almost a mile and a half away. Flames shooting through most of the windows, the building sends off a plume of smoke shooting through the sky, the lack of any other fires making this specific case intentional. “Why would someone do this?” Jordan wonders aloud, the sights horrifying regardless of whether or not the space is occupied. The sights shocking, it becomes too much to look away from, their eyes locked onto the picture for minutes. “Is this what’s gonna happen to Los Angeles?” Jaime asks, Jordan wanting to suggest otherwise, only for the ever-present sight to make it impossible to be certain. Quieted for the moment, Jaime remains glued to the structure, the thoughts of what people are capable of making her more worried than before she left. “We need to go back” Jaime exclaims, the man refusing, reminding her of the mob waiting for her and the point of leaving the city to start with. “If this can happen for apparently no fucking reason, who’s to say this won’t happen to L.A?” Jaime asks, the man asking what it could possibly matter. “If Los Angeles goes down, we just leave it behind and strike out on our own again” Jordan replies, “like we were going to do before we started playing god.” Her hand taking Jordan’s, Jaime tells him that everything about Los Angeles is bigger than the pair of them, or the group itself. “The second I stood up and made myself the leader, they became my group too” Jaime explains, “whatever happens to them is my burdon to live with.” Reciprocating the gesture, Jordan reminds Jaime that these are the same people currently rioting in the streets because she rightfully acknowledged how terribly selfish they are. “It doesn’t matter what they think of me, it matters that they’re my responsibility” Jaime replies, “and if this happens to Los Angeles, I’ll never forgive myself for running away and letting it happen.” Wanting to argue against it, Jordan takes the approach of trying to convince Jaime that the efforts would mean nothing. “They wanted to fuck over people just as tired as them, and they hate you for not letting them” Jordan replies, “that’s not someone worth feeling bad about.” “People can’t change, Jaime” the man concludes, “at least not those people.” Telling Jaime that they’ve become far too broken to redeem themselves in a world as chaotic as the one they find themselves in, Jordan pleads with her to let it go and hope for the best. “I can’t let something go when I’ve already sworn to do right by it” Jaime replies, Jordan’s head sinking, “I’m not a hypocrite.” Lifting his eyes, Jordan bites his lip and looks back to the building, only to glance back towards Los Angeles before returning his eyes to his soon-to-be wife. | The sky beginning to show the expectation of sunrise guiding them, Kayla and Chevy lead their fellow scavengers towards the raging inferno. The burning structure built from concrete, the skeleton refuses to collapse, instead allowing whatever once awaited life to greet it once more, to flood the interior with flames. At the base, the group stands back a few yards, burning debris still falling from the new holes, raining literal fire upon the earth below. “We’ve got lights” one of the survivors announces, pointing the pair at the very forefront of the journey towards a patch of land illuminated amongst a sea of darkness. By the moment the sun hits the sky in a mid-day heatwave, Chevy and Kayla lead the group to their unintended destination. Having waited for them and any others for months, a makeshift campsite from the remnants of an abandoned town hosts all forms of life just looking for somewhere to settle. “That fire you guys?” Chevy asks, he and Kayla walking ahead of the group, meeting a man washing clothes in the front lot of a rundown drug store. “It was” a second voice responds, a man dressed in a flannel shirt and blue jeans emerging from the store with a smile on his face. “You looking to settle in?” the man asks, his store being the first and only point of entry connected to a major road, every other side of the area surrounded by woodlands. “Just visiting” Chevy replies, looking past the man greeting them to find his shelves stocked with all the medication you’d expect a drug store to have. Shelves lined with anything from over-the-counter medication to cheap toys and candy, the store appears as friendly as the man that seems to own it, leaving hesitation within both Chevy and Kayla, knowing what this world does to humanity like that. | “Answer us!” the crowd chants, word having spread to the Angelinos that Jaime had departed the community, leaving only the militia behind to answer for what they believe to be her wrong doings. The doors to city hall remain shut, only armed guards atop the stairs, keeping the public from the slightest thought of making the first steps towards an ascent. With the roaring continuing, the lack of a response becomes more noticeably intentional, the scene playing out as it had before control of the city had been assumed. In the minds of the residents, they have returned to square one, wanting answers for what they believe themselves to be owed, no one to step up and give it to them. The chanting continues, the demand to be heard ensues, and suddenly, the doors of city hall open, revealing the inside to the public once more, surprised silence proceeding it all. Stood atop the steps, Jordan by her side, Jaime stands with the same megaphone she earned Django’s attention with in hand. “This isn’t hatred, I hope you already know that” Jaime begins, the crowd silent, as usual, itching to hear what she has to say. “If you wanna fight each other, get yourselves killed in the process just to get a few extra scraps, go ahead” Jaime continues, “you’re only gonna fuck yourselves over.” Making it clear that the world truly isn’t capable of keeping society afloat, Jaime states that everything has changed, and everyone has to change with it. “There’s a skyscraper burning a few miles out just because a bunch of people wanted to be assholes” Jaime persists, visibly baffled by it. “We’re lucky to have anything remotely close to a community” Jaime explains, “let alone food and water, protection, minimal electricity guaranteed to us.” Informing the public that there are groups of people huddled outside the city scavenging for extra things to keep the community afloat, Jaime states that this is no longer a world that can rely on entitlement and selfishness to get by. “The good don’t prosper, and the bad die out anyway, so it’s all pointless” Jaime proclaims, “why bother fighting when we can live in peace, free of charge, enjoying what we’ve got left?” The crowd still silent, Jaime reiterates that she didn’t say what she did the day prior out of hatred for them, it was instead what they had acted like. “I get it. America, the best nation in the world” Jaime continues, “but it doesn’t exist anymore. All we have left is this… right here.” Taking in a deep breath, Jaime makes it known to the general public that the deal only gets sweeter from here. “When the food we’re already growing starts getting ready, your rations increase, the same with purifying our water, the same with fixing our electrical grid” Jaime continues, moving down the list, “this is only the beginning. It gets better from here.” “Can we agree to live together?” Jaime asks, “in peace, with consideration for the people we share the time we have left with?” Silent, the mob returns to being a crowd, gathered at the steps of city hall, looking to one another with a mixture of hope and dread in their hearts. “You failed us!” a single person shouts near the front, the belief shared by only him as he approaches the bottom step, repeating the same phrase a second time. His right foot planted upon one step higher than his left, the man stuns those stood a few feet behind him when he pulls a gun from behind his shirt. Aimed towards the woman, the crowd becomes timid, a large amount of individuals aware of what’s about to happen shouting for the act to stop. Unable to shoot without firing into the crowd and having been unaware for the presence of Jaime, the militia are forced to ready their aim with their fingers away from the trigger. “Take the shot!” Lazarus shouts, not a single militia guard confident enough in their aim to do so. Within a split second, brave members of the crowd’s front line rushes towards the man with their arms reached out, a single shot fired before he can be brought down by the mob. Having accepted her fate resting in the split-second decision of one man, Jaime remains put, stood in place with readiness to answer for her rights and wrongs. Her eyes closed by the sound of the shot, time begins to stand still for a second, the red of the sunlight behind her eyelids turning a shadow-like dark, only to return to the same shade of red moments later, no sharp pain or blood running down any ounce of her body. Suddenly, her eyelids open, the bright sight of the mid-day sun returning as the crowd swarms the man, refusing to allow him another chance to pull the trigger. Her right hand squeezed, Jaime looks down to find the cause, Jordan on his knees with his left hand pressed to the ground. “We’ve got wounded!” one of the militia crewmates shout, rushing to the side of Jordan, Lazarus doing the same, Jaime slowly crouching down until she notices how tight his grip is. Being turned onto his back by Lazarus, Jordan looks towards Jaime, blood trickling out of his mouth as the middle his white t-shirt is quickly overcome with a rushing red wave. Still holding onto Jaime’s hand, Jordan struggles to speak, the blood pooling from his mouth as the shock still lingers within Jaime. Only the sound of something resembling her name breaks Jaime from the momentary daze, immediate panic flooding through her head as she drops to her knees. Begging for help, Jaime assists the militia crewmates in trying to stop the bleeding, the man having stood in front of her at the sight of the crowd’s movement, taking one slug to the stomach. “SOMEBODY FUCKING DO SOMETHING!” Jaime shouts, the crowd pressing their weight upon the gunman as the militia diverts their entire focus onto Jordan, his blood running down the stairs, one step at a time beneath the heat wave-inducing, mid-day sun.
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Still walking gingerly, his step sporting a noticeable limp, Chevy approaches the living room and takes his seat beside Kayla, the entire household gathered with their attention directed towards Jaime. “This isn’t just nothing anymore” Jordan insists, his hand waving a piece of paper wearing the folds from being slid through the front door. “Joke or not, now we’re talking about serious issues” the man continues, the paper being thrown onto the center table.
“Whether this is a joke or not, we need to take it seriously” Amelia interjects, “if there’s a group, somehow avoiding detection, plotting to overthrow you… Something needs to be done.” Her arms crossed, Jaime refuses to allow any such thing to take place, “if they don’t agree with me, they have that right.” Refusing, Jordan remains adamant that his girlfriend take a stand and put this issue to bed. “This isn’t just ‘we want you gone, we’ll vote you out!” Jordan responds, his voice loud and boisterous, “we’re in a place where murdering someone for their opinion isn’t unlikely!” Clearly concerned about this threat, Jaime remains mostly quiet, keeping her inner thoughts to herself as her gaze remains elsewhere. “Honey, this isn’t something that you can just let slide” Alex persists, “if you let this slide, even if this is a joke, it’ll open the door for more people to do the same.” “Maybe they should” Jaime replies, Jordan’s eyes immediately rolling as he gets up and walks away, his anxiety getting to the point of fearing an outburst that could lead to any damage. “They’re not forming a coup because they’re being oppressed, Jaime” Chevy responds, “they’re mad they’re not getting to gouge their faces anymore.” Kayla coming to the defense of Chevy’s point, the woman, whose brunette roots have begun overtaking the blonde in her hair, stands her ground. “They’re mad that they don’t get to be selfish assholes like they used to be” the woman argues, the group leaving the floor open to her, “and they’re blaming you for trying to make sure everyone stays alive.” Her attention directing itself to Kayla, Jaime asks the woman whether or not she believes them to have the right to that opinion. “Of course they have the right to be upset!” Kayla replies, “but in this world, they don’t have the right to be selfish cunts anymore!” “Especially when it’s a system that has yet to fail to keep them alive” Chris adds, his sister standing behind the bar as he occupies one of the many stools. “Maybe we’ve only known you for two months, but that’s been plenty of time to see results” Chris continues, “and the results are pretty clear to see as long as someone’s breathing.” Her focus drawn back to Kayla, Jaime listens to the woman tell her that there needs to be a finer line drawn between rights now. “This is a new world, there are new threats and there is less room for mistake” Kayla continues, “you can let them have an opinion, but you can’t let them feel like they’re entitled to anything.” Running down the laundry list of reasons they should be grateful rather than disturbed, Chevy tells Jaime that her tenure in charge has not failed anyone. “Just like Chris said, if they’re breathing… You haven’t failed them, and that’s what matters.” Adjusting herself, Jaime leans against her couch’s arm rest and directs her follow-up towards the entirety of the group, every all firmly rested upon her. “Does anyone remember how we got control of this place to begin with?” Jaime asks, a few heads dropping as others begin sagging their faces. “We staged a coup because we wanted to know why we were forced into whatever you wanna call this world” Jaime replies, “are we any better if we keep them from doing the same?” “Django’s government didn’t keep them alive” Chevy replies, distinctly outlining the difference between the pair, “he kept them silenced, and then he tried to wipe them out when it didn’t work.” From her bartender’s pocket, Julia tells Jaime that there are some difficult truths that need to be accept in worlds like these. “This is no place for democracy anymore” the woman remarks, “the only way these people stay alive is if they’re led by someone that knows what they’re doing.” Before the woman can reply, either in denial or acceptance, Chevy and Kayla both verbalize their opinions. “You know exactly what you’re doing, and you’re doing it well” Chevy says, Kayla adding, “the second you let that power go somewhere else, everything changes, and most likely not for better.” Returning to the room, Jordan tells Jaime that he’s going to have Lazarus set up a position for an announcement just around sunset, her views set to be made then. With a jog to the front door, Jordan takes his jacket and swings it over his shoulders, Jaime calling out for him to wait for a moment before he departs. Meeting the man, Jaime walks up to his chest, her arms wrapping around his back as he kisses her on the top of the head, and she responds by telling him to come back safely. “I’ll be back in a little while, don’t worry about me” Jordan replies, kissing her again before leaving the house. The door closing behind him, Jordan enters his car unaware of his girlfriend still standing in the place he left her, looking at the door and waiting to hear the vehicle pull away. “Are you alright?” Kayla asks, her question the only one verbalized despite being shared with the remainder of the group. “Yeah” Jaime responds, her voice emphasizing a more welcoming nature as worry sets in on her conscience. “I guess I have an announcement to prepare for” the woman continues, her head bowing to the group as she retires to her bedroom, leaving the room quiet, sharing each other’s concerns. = Dire is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = “Why do you insist on going out there?” Kayla asks, her panting towards Chevy putting a smile on the man’s face, “I’ve already told you what to expect.” Turning around, the man puts his arm over his girlfriend’s shoulder and gives her a peck on the lips, assuring her that he needs to see it for himself in the event he’ll need to. “There’s so much out there that we don’t know about!” Chevy remarks, his smile easing the pain of him departing, “we could be the only ones in this mess!” “But you know we’re not!” Kayla replies, the man placing his hands on both sides of her face before humorously responding, “but we’ll never know for sure unless we find out ourselves!” Returning towards the packing of his bag, Chevy assures the blonde-brunette split that it will only be a week without him, giving her the greenlight to enjoy a few days without having to see his self-described ‘dumb face’ every morning. Without any words to follow, Kayla chooses to alter her approach, walking for her side of the room and retrieving a duffle bag before proceeding to fill it with whatever she deems necessary. “What are you doing?” Chevy asks, his head slanted back while his lips pucker, realizing what Kayla’s strategy has turned into. “If you’re going, then so am I!” Kayla replies, packing a few changes of clothes and whatever else may come in handy in a life-or-death situation. “I won’t stop you if that’s really what you want to do” Chevy replies, attempting to continue his statement until the woman turns around and walks into his arms. “I don’t need a break from you, Chev” Kayla replies, the man rolling his eyes as he admits to knowing how much of a handful he can be at times. “That’s what I love about you” Kayla responds, “and if you’re going out there, I’m going with you.” Pulling away, Chevy asks her to give him a decisive answer, a clear ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on if she’s truly willing to join his venture into the unknown. “Yes” Kayla replies, a smile spreading from ear to ear, “I think you forget that I was out there for two weeks before I even found you out there!” Returning to her bag, Kayla leaves a joyful Chevy, leaving him to continue his final preparations before venturing out into whatever lies ahead, just in the company of welcomed sights for a change. | Her bare feet lightly tapping along the terrace, Kennedy does laps around the house, starting at one gate and turning around at the second. Upon reaching lap seventy-eight, the girl pauses at the top of the pool’s staircase and looks down for the first time, her attention diverting from the puffy white clouds and the glistening, still-reflecting megatowers of central Los Angeles. “Are you okay?” Kennedy calls, her words floating down the stairs and into the ears of Amelia, who leans against the railing with her chin pressed to the cool metal tip. “I’m alright, Kennedy” Amelia replies, “don’t mind me.” Not one to ignore her more primitive instincts, Kennedy descends the staircase and joins the girl, the way she speaks clarifying that not everything is fine. “What’re you looking at?” Kennedy asks, the girl shrugging her shoulders, admitting that she’s not truly looking for anything in particular. Without anything from Amelia to go off of, Kennedy begins talking about what she was looking at, describing the clouds like they were cotton balls in a doctor’s office. Proceeding to describe the towers downtown like pens and pencils in a plastic cup, Kennedy notices Amelia giggle, her spirits very different to what they had been seconds prior. Having run out of sights to describe, Kennedy asks Amelia why she sounds sad, the girl denying any such emotions at first before Kennedy insists that something wasn’t pleasant at least. “Jaime always used to tell em she was happy, but I knew she wasn’t” Kennedy recalls, “her voice would be higher when she was happy, and she’d sound tired when she was sad.” “Why would she have to be sad?” Amelia asks, her head turning towards the storybook house with the jaw-dropping view, “she lives in a movie, and she’s the main character.” Head shaking, Kennedy tells Amelia that most main characters usually have problems like every other character around them. “They’re the main character because their problems are supposed to be the focus” Kennedy continues, Amelia taking interest in the conversation, “it makes them who they are.” “Okay, sure” Amelia remarks, accepting that she may have some issues with work or boyfriends, but reminding Kennedy that they’re not in a movie. “Everyone’s in a movie” Kennedy replies, Amelia beginning to squint as the conversation takes more loops and turns than a roller coaster at Six Flags. “We’re all the main character’s of our own stories, and we’re usually the other characters in our friends’ stories” Kennedy states, the outlook at least leaving an encouraging hope. “People have more problems than you’d think” Kennedy concludes, watching the young girl look towards her with the expression of someone really anxious to ask for more. “How do we know what happens at the end of our stories?” Amelia asks, watching Kennedy look towards her with a smile, the innocence behind it heartwarming, even in an environment as hate-harboring as the one symbolized in those megatowers just ahead. “When the story’s over!” Kennedy replies, her smile remaining as she turns around and leaves, the comfort in that analogy being left up for Amelia to take at her own pace. | “We ready to go?” Chevy calls out, the pleasant surprise from Julia and Chris when they see Kayla appear alongside leaves a light excitement in the air. Playful banter being exchanged, Chris informs Chevy that he’ll be the one leading the crew out of Los Angeles rather than being led, the sudden change of plans catching him off guard. “Well that’s an unexpected development!” Chevy proclaims, Chris apologizing for the sudden nature of it. “They wanted the main branch leaders back in case the threats turned into something more” Julia states, handing him a map drawn out with every route and break to take. “This is what the original leads wanted to follow, they broke it down to more specifics for you when the plans were changed” Julia says, asking Chevy if he wants someone else to be made the lead figure on the venture. “No, I think I should be-” Chevy begins, stopping himself and lowering the map from his face, looking back towards the pair and asking if he can put a good word in for someone. “Who do you have in mind?” Chris asks, walking towards the reception desk and aiming for the book of contacts until he and his sister notice the man’s gaze giving them the unspoken answer. Waiting silently for the conversation to play out in the way that it will, Kayla begins wondering why no further words are being shared, prompting her to look to her left to see Chevy staring right back at her. After a few confusing moments, the woman realizes exactly what he was insinuating, immediately asking if that’s truly what he wants. “You know the scene out there better than I do” Chevy replies, “if there’s anyone better for this than me, it would be you.” “I’m on board if she is” Julia replies, no moment to consider necessary when her mind was made up the second Chevy’s eyes wandered away from Chris and herself. “Don’t need to ask me twice” Chris replies, all three survivors around her in complete acceptance to give her control of the group. “If that’s what Chevy wants, I’m cool with it” Kayla replies, the excitement shared amongst the four only rising with the new direction sorted. Her mind travelling to other, perhaps more pressing thoughts, Kayla fails to notice the three others walking over to meet the group, eventually snapping out of her daydream and catching up. | Her arms pressed against the patio railing, Jaime gazes in wonder at the sights of the skyscrapers towering through the sky, penetrating the clouds. “You picked a lovely view” Alex calls, Jaime’s head turning to see her mother walking through her room to meet her. “You would never guess people were unhappy here just looking at it from afar” Alex adds, noting the lack of commercial flights zipping overhead and each individual home not breaking into the sky appearing like a little dot. “But most of all, it’s quiet” Alex continues, the smallest difference between the sight upon Jaime’s purchase of the property and its current state making the biggest difference. “I’d never seen it like that until after everything happened” Jaime admits, losing herself for a moment in the beauty, “I can’t really picture what it was like before all of this.” “That’s what happens when everything we look at suddenly goes black” Alex replies, “eventually you start looking at everything you took for granted before.” The small droplets of sweat resting comfortably on her forehead glistening in the sunlight, Jaime admits that she’s never sight-seen as often as she has since coming back home. “It’s hard to believe I went so long without this view” Jaime concludes, “it may be the only thing keeping me sane anymore.” Looking at her daughter, Alex repositions her body to face her offspring and asks why the story she keeps repeating to herself doesn’t have a happy ending. “Because it always starts and stops in the same places” Jaime replies, confessing to be unsure of why it chooses to pick up and leave off in the places that it does. “Do you leave any parts out?” Alex proceeds, her daughter’s smile disappearing, the weight of the answer being ‘yes’ attributing to her lack of progression. “I remember all of the parts that teach me what I need to learn, but I never recall the things that I learned the lessons for” Jaime returns, finally vocalizing her departure from a good half of the story being told. “Are they the parts about us?” Alex asks, her daughter immediately hanging her head, the answer clear without needing to be stated. “Then you should probably think about those more” Alex replies, “y’know, just to make up for the time you’ve lost.” Her hand brushing the hairs sticking to her daughter’s face away, Alex walks for the room before suddenly stopping, looking over her shoulder before returning to the girl. “Remember that night” Alex says, Jaime’s face beginning to sour until Alex simply offers it as a suggestion. “If you’re going to pick up on anything, you should pick up there” Alex directs, “this decision, whatever it’s going to be, should at least have intake from that night.” With that, Alex walks away, leaving her daughter against the railing once more, her brain drifting away into the darker thoughts she prefers not to conjure up. -> “I’m home!” Jaime calls out, her purse being tossed onto the kitchen table as she awaits an answer. “Hello!?” Jaime calls out, her shadow projecting itself onto the wall directly beside the staircase, surrounded by the yellow tint of the corridor lamp behind her. Hurrying down the stairs, her finger pressed to her lip, Alex instructs her daughter to keep her voice down. “Your father is asleep” Alex informs, the rush of her words an unfortunate normal to the woman, who whispers apologies until heavy feet cause the floorboards above to creek. “Who the fuck won’t shut up!?” the audible male voice shouts, the lack of an answer only further angering him as he reaches the stairs. “Don’t you know to shut the fuck up, Jaime!?” Robert gawks, his uneven steps bringing him further towards the worried mother and his nonchalant daughter. “Go to bed, dad” Jaime responds, the husk of a man refusing to do as told, reminding his daughter that she doesn’t tell him what to do. “If anyone gives orders around here, it’s me… not you” the man replies, the final word of that sentence carrying a spiteful vigor to it. “Touch her and you’ll never walk again” Jaime replies, her finger raised towards the man, who watches her walk off, her intention to stumble upon Kennedy’s room. The inside stained with black covering the portions not illuminated by the dark blue night sky, Jaime whispers her sister’s name, the response coming from a lower place than her bed. “Where are you?” Jaime whispers, adding comfort to her voice, treating her search in a playful manner as she reaches towards the floor. “Under my bed” Kennedy replies, the response confusing the woman, who lays herself on the floor and notices her sister’s face. “Why are you under your bed?” Jaime asks, not outright concerned, but instead, simply curious at first. “I don’t like when it’s just me, mom, and dad” Kennedy replies, watching her older sibling begin to frown, nodding as she admits that she doesn’t like it either. “They fight a lot when you’re at school, so I know how much it sucks” Jaime replies, telling the frightened girl that it all ends up alright in the end. “Dad goes to sleep, mommy follows him, and they stay that way until the morning as long as we don’t make noise” Jaime mutters, the process run down like a check list. “What happens when they fight and you’re not here?” Kennedy asks, the girl shrugging, telling her sister that she doesn’t know. “When I’m not here, I don’t know what goes on” Jaime replies, her sister letting out a sigh before crawling from beneath her sanctuary. Hopping onto the bed, Kennedy pats the seat next to her, welcoming her to spend a few minutes talking. “Do you want me to ask what happens when I’m not here?” Jaime questions, her sister looking up at her before looking away again. “They fight a lot more” Kennedy admits, her voice becoming somber as her head hangs low, lifted by her sister’s hand, the girl reminding her to be strong enough to keep her chin high. “Do they hit each other?” Jaime asks, already feeling guilt every time she walks through the door, knowing how Robert elects to spend the time unsupervised. “Dad hits mom” Kennedy replies, “a lot.” Her hands in her lap, Jaime tells Kennedy to be honest with her, not keeping anything secret. “Is that all he does?” Jaime asks, expecting a laundry list of chores, work and insults to be named off, her last expectation being the first thing insinuated by the youngest child. “He does… stuff” Kennedy replies, Jaime’s nose straightening after spending the majority of the conversation crinkled, her ears perking when Kennedy’s profound way of saying ‘stuff’ begins to paint the picture in her head. “What kind of stuff?” Jaime asks, her sister looking back up with confusion. After a few seconds, Kennedy begins trying to describe the events of a few nights prior, the acts Robert had forced upon Alex being drawn by someone unaware of what was truly happening. Without needing the specifics, Jaime puts together what Kennedy is trying to get at, pushing Kennedy’s hands down to put an end to the description. Hiding her boiling anger, Jaime flashes her sister a smile and tells her to stay upstairs, not getting out from underneath the bed until Jaime tells her to. With a nod, Kennedy drops to the floor and rolls into cover, her sister staring towards her bedroom door before beginning her return to the main foyer. Halfway down the stairs, Jaime is able to see into the kitchen, her father spewing one insult after another towards her mother, who remains trapped in the corner, unable to defend herself physically or verbally. Stepping through the inter-connecting archway, Jaime stops, her father’s back turned to her as he fails to even realize she’s there, waiting for him, staring him down like a hawk eyes its prey. “Back away from here, Robert” Jaime commands, the man turning around to stare at his daughter with contempt, her mother still backed into the corner as she was before. “Find what you were looking for?” Robert asks, finally walking away from Alex and brushing past Jaime, reaching for the refrigerator door and pulling out his prefered beer of choice. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Robert asks, his top lip arched on the left as he pops the cap off and takes his first swig. “What did I tell you in the hospital, Robert?” Jaime asks, clarifying her question to pertain to what she said after confessing to having him run off the road, not a care that her mother remains listening to be found. “I wasn’t fuckng around” Jaime follows, her walk taking her to the drawer, which she opens to retrieve a large, newly-sharpened knife from. “Jaime, put that down right now” Robert orders, his words falling on careless ears as the drawer slides shut, slamming against the larger setup as Jaime creeps forward. The condensation on the lid causing the bottle to slip, Robert backs away and hits the bottle on the corner of the wall, leaving the glass to shatter on the floor, the tile now covered in beer as Alex pleads for Jaime to stop and take a moment to realize what she’s doing. “I’m ending this” the woman replies, her boots leaving their imprint in the liquid as she follows the man towards the living room. “Get away from me you crazy bitch!” Robert shouts, his steps causing him to trip over the foot of the couch, his body collapsing to a heap on the floor as Jaime inches nearer. “I told you to get the fuck away from me!” Robert shouts, quickly throwing himself to his feet and racing for the backdoor, which he pushes open and escapes through. Not one to give up the chase, Jaime hurries her pace, walking through the back door and turning the corner, finding the man trapped between herself and the graves her had still yet to fill, blocking his way to the connecting gate. “Jaime, please” Robert pleads, his instincts to cowardly ask for forgiveness, the cleansing of all his wrong doings to be made as he drops to his knees with his hands cupped together. With a smirk, Jaime lowers the knife and hands it to her mother, telling her return indoors and wait for her to come back inside. With relief, Robert thanks her for her mercy, continuing to repeat ‘I knew I raised you well’ over and over again, believing the danger to be non-existent. The woman placing her hands on both sides of his head, Robert looks up to find his daughter’s knee swinging between his eyes, forcing him to bend backwards, his back mimicking the fold of an accordion. His hands clutching at his nose, Robert shouts at his daughter in muffled pouts, the expletives in them unclear, but most likely plentiful. Without a care for what the man has to say, Jaime walks towards the fence and removes a shovel from the dirt. “You’re not my father...” Jaime says, returning towards the man with the tool in hand, “...you don’t get the credit of thinking you raised me…” Lifting the head in the air, Jaime watches her father’s face look up, the broken nose illuminated in the moonlight as she finishes her monologue, “...and you’ll never hurt my family again.” With that statement, the woman swings the shovel like a baseball bat, knocking her father unconscious and watching his body tumble into the grave labeled for her. Taking the moment to catch her breath, Jaime concludes her night by throwing a few lumps of dirt into the grave, only a few portions of her father remaining visible to the naked eye. Returning, Jaime tells her mother to let the man sleep, dropping the shovel in the middle of the floor before walking upstairs, and reuniting with her sister. <- | “Thank you for joining me” Jaime begins, her words being uttered into whatever time the community has left from the stairs of city hall. “I know I called this meeting to address this ‘revolution’ i keep hearing so much about, so allow me to waste no further time” the woman continues, the crowd anxiously awaiting what she has to say. Her lips opening, her chin held high, Jaime remains speechless, the only thing coming out of her mouth is the air in her lungs. Suddenly, her mouth shuts, she remains speechless as the crowd silently await what is to be said. Her eyes navigating their way to her boyfriend a few steps below before scanning the areas where her family and Amelia reside, Jaime remains stood there, nothing to say except for the thoughts in her head. Suddenly, her mouth opens again, the new story she tells herself, teaching her the ways to oversee this community correctly do their part in her decision. “Tough shit” Jaime declares, the crowd’s anticipation turning into whispered anger and shared annoyance. “There may have been a time where you were given ‘rights’ and ‘freedoms’, but those times are over” Jaime proclaims, her stance evolving with the times, influencing itself off of the world that surrounds them. “This isn’t a ‘you’ thing, or a ‘me’ thing, this is something for all of us!” Jaime continues, “we do what we need to survive, and that is all.” Mostly silent, a few members beginning to mutter contempt for her under their collective breath, the crowd listens to Jaime run down her speech the way she’s given it countless times before. “This city used to be home to plenty of entitled people, the people that didn’t give a shit about how they treated others” Jaime persists, the crowd remaining surprised by her refusal to give into their demands, “that does not fly anymore, and it certainly doesn’t fly under my leadership.” Having hit the major points she wanted to strike upon, Jaime concludes the meeting, ordering every civilian to return to their homes and begin appreciating what they still have. Turning around, Jaime begins ascending the stairs, only to stop at the sound of an unfamiliar response from the crowd. “We the Angelinos!” the crowd chants, the sight of a colorful blue and yellow flag stitched together catching her eye. “Give us what we want or we’ll take it ourselves!” the small portion of the crowd chants, the remainder, unaware of exactly what’s going on, begins cheering in their favor. Suddenly, the silent crowd becomes the angry mob, standing at the bottom of the steps, chanting for change. Yesterday, Jaime reigned over Los Angeles as the polarizing leader, loved by some and hated by others. On this day, the tide changes, Jaime, her group and her militia outmatched in staggering numbers by the remainder of the population, demanding she bend her knee to their desires. Her arm pulled by Jordan, Jaime realizes how cratering the sight truly meant to her, draining her hope within an instant. Suddenly, Lazarus and the rest of her group pull her away, leading her back inside while the mob remains united by want, change or consequence for the lack there of. The air is thick, breathing problems only worsened in those that have it as they line up at the bottom of city hall’s white concrete steps. One after another, the residents of the fledgling, post-chaos Los Angeles restlessly await their turn to fill pitchers of water, and take home their rations of food for the week. “I don’t think this is going to turn out well” Alex mutters, her head low, expecting the people to eventually decide this government is worth less than it appears.
“It’s been four weeks” Jaime replies, her voice holding back worry she wishes to keep out of the group’s mind. “They’ll start getting used to the system and we’ll work out the kinks that come with it” Jaime proceeds, Jordan immediately reminding Jaime that they don’t have a surplus in stock to continue this process with. “We have a few weeks worth of water and, if we’re lucky, three months worth of food” Jordan continues, declaring the process unsustainable. “So we find more, we just go out and we see what we can come up with” Jaime replies, her hands pressing against the sides of her head when reminded of their presence outside Los Angeles. “Kayla and Amelia are gonna see what they can find out there” Jordan responds, “but we both know Kayla’s looking for Chevy before she’s looking for anything else.” Her head hung, Jaime grants permission for the person behind the knock at the door to gain themselves entry. As the door opens, the newly designated militia leader appears with a frown on his face. “Everything alright, Lazarus?” Jaime asks, the man shaking his head, telling Jaime that her presence is required outside. Upon taking her first steps out of the safety of the city hall’s interior, Jaime notices an argument breaking out between two groups at the front of the line. “You can’t take two pitchers!” one side shouts, the individual on the opposite end of the argument trying valiantly to defend his acts. “We don’t need this system! We’re Americans!” part of the group shouts, suggesting they all take down the government before it kills the lot of them like the previous regime. “How long have they been like that?” Jaime asks, Lazarus sucking in a deep breath before suggesting the time frame to have been roughly five minutes. “Someone tried filling up a second pitcher of water, and there weren’t many pleased about that” the man continues, Jaime instructing him to do whatever is necessary to break up the fighting. A nod, Lazarus instructs his militia to intervene, watching as his guards leave their stations to assist in the efforts. Running on adrenaline, one supporter of the camp against the second pitcher decides to take this as his opportunity to elicit change. Tensions already high, the man pushes himself off one of the many militia members squeezing their way between bodies and places his right hand on a gun. With a tug, the man becomes the possessor of a firearm and holds it in the air, firing it at the sky to cause immediate panic. His eyes spotting Jaime outside the doors of city hall, the man uses this moment as his own, lowering the barrel until it lines up in the woman’s direction. Suddenly, a shot is fired, and the man plummets to the ground, the bullet of a sub-machine gun ripping through one side of his head before bursting through the other as if it were traversing through a warm watermelon on a summer day. Screaming beginning to mount, the civilians begin to hurry away from the scene, taking cover behind whatever they can find strewn around the area in hopes that single shot would be the final. The remaining ‘anti-system’ members hoisting their hands above their heads at the militia’s gunpoint, Jaime watches the crowd disperse and the sights of whatever lingers behind them coming into sight. “Do you see that?” Jordan asks, his right hand still stretched over Jaime’s chest as the pair spot a group of wanderers approaching their direction. The fractured crowd standing together in pockets, they watch as these individuals approach the scene without fear or concern. “Let them through” Jaime says, her orders to Lazarus being followed as Amelia and Kayla lead Chevy, an unknown woman and an unknown man past the guards and up the city hall stairway. “Welcome back” Jaime mutters, her words failing to hide the joy of seeing her lost friend returned to his home. “I see this place must’ve missed me” Chevy replies, leaning in to hug Jaime before pulling Jordan in for a hug of his own. “I’m Julia, and this is my brother Chris” the unknown woman introduces, her hand extended to shake that of Jaime’s. “I’m from the Mount Cedar-Sinai building” the woman adds, “I think you and I could help each other.” Her eyes lifting, Jaime nods to the woman, her eyes momentarily glancing at the still-splintered crowd a few paces behind. “Let’s see about that” Jaime replies, her hopes for this system being operable feeling restored, a reasonable amount of worry accompanying what she hopes to be her hope-restoring idea. = Dire is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = -> Four Weeks Earlier <- His eyes forcing themselves open past the solidified crumbs over his eyelids, Chevy takes a peak at the windows to the left of his bed before noticing the whispered arguing outside his door. His hands digging into the sheets of the hospital bed, Chevy forces his legs onto the ground before trying to stand, his attempt failing immediately, as he forces himself back onto the mattress. “Any chance I can get some crutches!?” Chevy calls out, his request immediately bringing an end to the discussion outside, being met with the response of two doctors entering his room. “You’re awake!” the female doctor exclaims, surprised as her male counterpart narrows his eyes, trying to gage exactly what kind of man they had brought within the walls of their building. “I don’t think I’m dreaming” Chevy replies, his fingers wandering his arms before pulling the needles away from the inside of his arm. “You shouldn’t do that!” the woman mutters, Chevy reminding her that he’s not on death’s doorstep. “The nurse told you not to take them out” Chris repeats, his tone making the reminder come across as an unspoken order, leaving Chevy to pull his hand away, leaving the needles remaining in place. “You didn’t come in here in very good shape” the woman says, walking for the closet and pulling a new pair of crutches for the man to use. “How did I get here?” Chevy asks, the male stating that a man brought him in just a few days prior. “I’d like to talk with him if you could let him know” Chevy replies, his face turning to the ground to watch the crutches touch the tile floor, unaware of the expression on both nurse’s faces taking a sour turn. “We’re not exactly sure how to tell you this” the woman begins, Chevy’s face immediately lifting towards the pair as they stand with a somber sight. “Your friend has passed away, unfortunately” the woman continues, watching the man nod to himself as he fixes his grip on the metal assistance to each of his sides. “Should I ask how that happened?” Chevy asks, the man taking it as his own responsibility to break down the details. “I think you should see it for yourself” the man replies, leading Chevy to the end of his floor’s hallway, an open elevator shaft already waiting for their arrival. “He made a wrong step and went down a few days ago” the woman says, Chevy leaning over the edge to notice the plummeting drop leading to certain death. “It’s where we discard of the dead now that there aren’t any crews to pick them up” Chris explains, apologizing for the sorrow information. “I didn’t know him well” Chevy replies, “but he saved my life, so that can’t be understated.” With a deep breath, Chevy asks how long it will be until he’s allowed to be discharged. Looking to each other, the man and woman begin exchanging looks as their way of communicating, prompting Chevy to break the weird moment by asking for their names. “I’m Julia” the woman replies, “this is my brother, Chris.” “Okay, Julia and Chris… In English, how long will it be until I’m allowed to be discharged?” Chevy reiterates, the man telling him that it will not be working out in that way. “You received care, so you now have a debt to pay off” Julia explains, Chevy’s eyes rolling as his head drops. “You’re not able to do physical labour, so we’ll have you recover for a few days while we get a list of things ready for you to complete” Chris furthers, Chevy’s eyebrow raising. “I didn’t come into this place on my own accord” Chevy explains, “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.” His voice turning sour, Chris tells Chevy that his logic does not apply the way he wants it to. “You received a service, you will now pay back that debt” Chris demands, telling Chevy that any attempt to escape the burden of his debts will result in consequence. “Consequence?” Chevy replies, “we’ll see about that.” | -> One week later <- “I’m going after him” Kayla states, her intentions being made clear to the woman whose house she takes occupancy within. “Kay, you’ve got no idea what’s out there!” Jordan replies, watching the woman plant her hands onto her hips, telling him that the same applies to Chevy. “I’ve spent the past week looking for him out there, and it’s brought up nothing” Kayla concludes, her eyes locking onto Jaime as the stare is reciprocated, “he’s out there and I need to find him.” “Where would he even go?” Alex asks, her fingers dancing along the glass of vodka in her right hand, “where would you even start looking?” Her shoulders shrugging, Kayla admits that she hasn’t even given that thought. “Are you sure he’s even still alive?” Jordan asks, Kayla unable to respond before a mostly silent Kennedy tells the man to shut his mouth. “While we can be a little more respectful than that” Jaime says, her eyes turning to Kennedy, “he wasn’t in the pile of the dead.” “Are we sure we lined up every body?” Jordan asks, “even if we did, who’s to say someone didn’t just toss Chevy and not recognize him?” Hearing enough of the debate over whether or not he remains amongst the living, Kennedy walks up to Jordan and lifts her finger to him. “Chevy came to your rescue when that weird guy started firing at the dealership” Kennedy recalls, watching Jordan’s mouth slightly gape, “have some faith in him.” Without anything better to respond with, Jordan closes his mouth and nods, turning the conversation into one of where to start looking. Within hours, Kayla and Amelia prepare to depart Los Angeles for whatever remains outside it’s boundaries. “I know you’re gonna look for Chevy first, and you absolutely should” Jaime begins, “but if you see anything that could help keep using going in here, do what you can to get it?” Nodding, Kayla reminds Jaime that the unknown circumstances surrounding Chevy don’t completely erase the importance of their cause from her mind. “Love you, girl” Jaime returns, her arms wrapping around Kayla as the feeling is reciprocated. With another hug for Amelia, Jaime watches the women drive away from the home, what they can expect to find over the horizon as unclear as what their future within Los Angeles holds. | -> One Week Later <- “Thinking about jumping?” Chevy asks, his arm wiping away the sweat falling from his brow as he harvests the tomatos from the building’s roof top garden. His words aimed at Chris, the man resting his arms against the hot concrete barrier as he looks over the edge, peering down at the sights of whatever may appear below. “Do your work, Harrison” Chris replies, his head only tilting back for a moment as the words leave his mouth, his face returning to the scenery immediately after. “I am” Chevy replies, his simple retort being accompanied by a reminder that not all work must be done in silence. “Just because it doesn’t have to, doesn’t mean I don’t want it to” Chris replies, preferring to remain at peace with the view. “Do you have a problem with me?” Chevy asks, Chris’s eyes practically rolling in the back of the head as he turns around, his head leaning on his shoulder. “I have a problem with everyone” Chris responds, his head returning to the scene once again, “now do your work or you’ll be here longer.” Placing the remaining fruit in his hands into a large bucket of water, Chevy walks over to join Chris by the view, the man groaning almost immediately. “Don’t you want to get out of here and back to your friends, Harrison?” Chris asks, Chevy turning towards him and shrugging before pushing his eyes back to the town. “Holy shit, it’s beautiful from up here” Chevy mutters, Chris giving in and glancing back at the sights, doing his best to enjoy it in the company of another person. “Is it always this clear?” Chevy asks, Chris giving into the conversation, acknowledging that it tends to be hazy on most days, this one just happening to be clear enough to see for miles. “I heard the government was still in control down there” Chris mentions, “the last I heard of anything was a few weeks ago, though.” “You don’t wanna find out?” Chevy asks, Chris head shaking when the thought of coming across new people creeps into his mind. “We only got this place up and running because we needed a way to guarantee our survival” Chris explains, “you do someone a solid, they repay the favor.” His head tilted, Chevy asks the man what he would do if he ran into a community with as much power over the population as he does. “I don’t have power” Chris begin, immediately poking holes in the concept, “but if they had power the way you suggest they would, it’d be nice to make friends with them.” Returning to his bucket, Chevy takes out an apple and runs it under water, handing it to Chris, who accepts the gesture and begins allowing himself to show a slight amount of inner honesty. “I wouldn’t have opened the place up if it weren’t for her” Chris admits, his actions done in the best interest of his sister. “When life started hitting us when we were younger, we started looking out for each other before we did so for ourselves” Chris continues, “keeping on the good side of the living is a good way to stay alive.” With a smirk, Chevy looks to the man with humor in his tone. “So the hard ass routine is to keep me from making a move on your sister?” Chevy asks, his delivery bringing a modicum of laughter from the man in the middle of another bite. “Partially that, but then there’s not wanting to get close to someone that could do us any wrong” Chris replies, “civility is gone now, it’s best not to get too close to someone that could get shot in broad daylight for no reason.” In agreement, Chevy tells Chris that the supply of medicine can only go so far before it runs out. “What’s the plan when you don’t have enough to take care of anyone?” Chevy asks, “or god forbid someone gets caught stealing it?” “We take action” Chris replies, “do whatever we need to do to make it clear that it doesn’t fly around here.” Agreeing with Chris’ need to maintain safety, Chevy admits that he didn’t expect to respect him as a person when he first hopped out of bed. “I wouldn’t have blamed you” Chris replies, his head shaking in complete understanding of why, “but we’ve all got to do whatever we can to make sure the people we care about stay here, even if it means it’s without us.” | -> One day later <- Silent, their evening only described by the crackling sounds of their campfire, Kayla and Amelia take temporary residency in a tool shed behind an abandoned household. “We’ve covered all of this” Kayla points, her physical map being covered in lines drawn in red, black, blue and white ink and marker. “All we have left is the east, and then we turn back…” Kayla continues, her words becoming faint as she pauses for a moment before finishing her statement, “...and go home.” “Just because he’s not in this circle, doesn’t mean he’s not out here at all” Amelia replies, the visual disappointment on Kayla’s face noticeable by even the most clueless individual. “If you start losing hope now, and he’s still out there waiting for you to find him, you’ll leave him waiting” Amelia continues, telling Kayla not to give up even the slightest amount of hope. Within minutes, the calming pops of the campfire begin finding themselves fighting for audible supremacy when rustling begins dashing through the darkest corners of the yard. Calling out to the darkness, Kayla climbs to her feet and pulls a flashlight out, taking the responsibility of peering through the cabin door at whatever it may be hiding within the shadows. “Who’s out-” Kayla calls, her shoulders immediately feeling the weight of a large figure throw themselves forward, forcing Kayla off her feet before racing into the structure. Her fingers digging their way into the earth, Kayla throws herself back to her feet and races for the opening, her body immediately being tackled back inside by a second, much larger force. Struggling as she had before, Kayla feels the circumstance play out in a fashion feeling similar to another. Her mouth covered by a large hand, Kayla’s screams are muffled by the sound of a man ordering her to stay still and ‘accept it.’ With a morbid chuckle, the amused man squirms atop the girl as Amelia tries to fight for leverage, the first man forcing her into a slanted position in the tucked away corner. Accepting her own hands as the only ones able to bring about safety, Kayla reaches for the man’s back pocket and pulls out something folded. With some finger-bound trickery, she manages to reveal something sharp from within, her confidence in whatever it may be enough to pull it into the air and bury it through skin. The laughter turning into groans, Kayla twists the tool where it enters, the groans turning into howls of pain. Taking the screams for something else, the man atop Amelia begins laughing, turning his orders towards the girl beneath him into an ovation for the man behind him. Soon, the tool pulls itself out of the second man’s back, its second home bringing Kayla’s assailant to his demise as it finds comfort in the side of his head. Freeing herself, Kayla removes the corkscrew from the second man’s head and stares towards the first, her assailants blood still splattered across her face and chest. Her hand reaching out, Kayla removes the gun from the first man’s back waistband and fires a single round through his left eye, the brains spilling out of the back of his head, splattering across the wall. Pulling Amelia into her arms, Kayla whispers to her that it’s alright, and she’s not going to let anything happen to her. Her eyes staring at the fire, the blood from her face stains Amelia’s light blue shirt, her eyes turning cold when she glances back to the fresh corpses. | -> Six days later <- “Can I come in?” Chevy asks, Julia quickly wiping exhaustion from her face, her failure to notice her office door being left open giving Chevy a look at her persona-less appearance. “Is there something I can assist with?” Julia asks, watching the man pull a seat away from her desk and occupy it with clear intent. “What would you do if you met a community with similar power to you?” Chevy asks, his version of testing the waters beginning with a scan of Julia’s immediate reaction. “I’d try to stay away from them” Julia replies, her response immediately being questioned by the man. “I wouldn’t want to take the chances that someone could strong arm us out of everything we have, why?” Julia replies, refusing to give Chevy the opening to ask a follow-up question. “What if I could point you to some people that I know wouldn’t strong arm you?” Chevy asks, the woman’s expression remaining unchanged. “Why would I trust your word?” Julia asks, her arms crossing as the conversation has changed from responsibilities to business. “Who says you need to operate off my word?” Chevy replies, his arms mimicking those of Julia’s, crossing as the woman’s stare towards him begins to turn. The struggle to keep herself from smiling becoming overwhelming, Julia becomes the first to break, her teeth shattering through her lips as Chevy is soon to follow. As the laughter dies down, Chevy tells Julia that his offer of a legitimate community with such power does exist, and he wants to what she thinks of this arrangement. “I don’t know, Chevy” Julia replies, her eyes leaving the man as her hands sift through the various sheets of paper lining her desktop. “I don’t know if that’s a risk I’m willing to take” Julia adds, her uncertainty remaining the one thing between the completion of his responsibilities and a worthy future. “I’m not going to sit here and promise you that everything will go back to normal” Chevy admits, “but I will sit here and say this place, and all that it can offer, will die out if there’s nothing to preserve it.” Her head starting towards the ground, Julia and Chevy find themselves caught by surprise when Chris knocks on the door frame. “Am I interrupting something important?” chris asks, Chevy insisting that he should sit in on the conversation. The question already having been offered to him, Chris tells Julia that he’s on the side of starting and maintaining a peaceful, professional relationship with Chevy’s people. “If he is who he says they are, and they have obtained control of Los Angeles, this is a massive opportunity we’re wasting!” Chris pleads, telling Julia that there are times to be concerned. “If we can hold any level of influence over that kind of community, we’re set, with or without this place” Chris continues. “As long as you work with us, you’re one of us” Chevy adds in, Chris’ opinion on the man having done a complete change from the moment they first met. “I just wanna make sure we can see the other side of this” Chris concludes, watching his sister’s eyes travel from one side of the room to the other. As she begins preparing to say her piece, the sound of arguing from the lobby a few hallways away begins flooding throughout the first floor. “Stay behind me” Chevy orders, taking the lead as the first man through the door, Chris and Julia instinctively taking Chevy up on his offer, remaining shielded behind him. Navigating through each corridor, the man leads the pair closer and closer to the front of the building, the yelling becoming louder and louder the further they travel. Soon, the trio reach their final destination, the sights that stand before Chevy put a smile on his face immediately. Stood there with her finger raised to an armed guard, Kayla stands beside Amelia, her face lighting up when she sees Chevy turn the corner. The pair sharing a hug, Chevy introduces his two group members to who he hopes to be able to work with soon. A smile on her face, Julia tells Chevy that she’d like to hear more about this group in Los Angeles that he has, the warmth and loving reception from the people he loves most giving her confidence in his taste in people. | “From what I just saw out there, this isn’t exactly a very promising cause to be working for” Chevy acknowledges, reminding Jaime of the man that was just shot and killed over water mere minutes ago. “Have you realized that this is worse than what the mob was wanting Django’s head for?” Chevy asks, watching Jaime’s eyes drop as she begins accepting the fact that he held some truth in his final statements to her. “How much longer can we go without outside assistance?” Kayla asks, Alex quick to pitch the minimal information of ‘not much longer’ to keep Jaime grounded to earth. “How long will that medication last all of you?” Jordan asks, Julia coming to the conclusion that the worry should start in roughly one year and a half. “So let’s make a deal!” Chevy insists, “that’s what they came here for, so let’s get something going before the crowd turns into a mob again.” Her hand supporting her chin, Jaime asks Julia and Chris what they need more than anything else. After careful consideration, the pair agree that any amount of protection would be desired. “How much food would you be willing to trade for twenty militia members standing watch around the clock?” Jaime asks, the pair taking the legal pad from in front of her and writing down a number. “Any chance you can go higher if we get a team together to go out and look for whatever medicine could be further out in the state?” Jaime asks, her eyes staring towards Julia, designating her as the mouthpiece. “I’m sure we could work something out for that” Julia replies, watching Jaime stand from her seat and hold her hand out, telling her to return the following day with the written amount of food, promising her twenty militia members to return with. Once the night has fallen, Jaime sits by her mansion window, the sights of the city behind her tequila-filled glass mesmerize her too much to sleep. “I see you can’t sleep either” Chevy calls, his gentle footsteps accompanying him to the woman, taking a seat beside her and sharing her watch. “There’s gonna come a time where we miss getting the chance to sit down and look out at the stars” Chevy exclaims, Jaime’s simple ‘yes’ showing her disdain for that day. “You’re not blaming yourself for this whole mess, are you?” Chevy asks, the question coming from left field, though the importance behind it remains present knowing the person the question is directed towards. “Kind of, yeah” Jaime responds, the man retorting with his hand held out, lowering onto Jaime’s free hand. “Do me a favor” Chevy requests, making sure the woman’s eyes line up with his own before he asks, “don’t.” “How am I not supposed to feel like I’m responsible when all of this goes wrong?” the woman asks, every day being spent in fear that she’ll be responsible for the downfall of people that trust her. “Because it’s not your place to determine how people operate” Chevy replies, his eyes making sure not to leave Jaime’s, “it’s natural human nature to act in ways that some people don’t have a response to.” Her chin lowering despite eye contact being maintained, Jaime listens to Chevy take today’s killing as an example. “That person chose to strip a gun away from the closest thing to police we have, that’s something you just have to hope they won’t do” Chevy informs, “you have no control over whether or not he follows those hopes.” Taking away the glass, Chevy tells Jaime to switch to water to avoid giving herself any resemblance of a head ache in the morning. His hand brushing her shoulder, Chevy walks for his shared bedroom before Jaime calls out his name. “Do you think I’m gonna be anything like Django?” Jaime asks, the man she watches turn his head back towards her shaking his head with a smile. “Django never would have put his people over himself like you have” Chevy replies, telling Jaime to get some rest and prepare for another day tomorrow. Alone again, Jaime looks out over the city skyline, the story of Kate and herself replaying in her head as it has countless times before. “The people come first” Jaime whispers to herself, her arms crossing as she sinks into her chair, taking the moment to appreciate the view whilst she still has it. -> “Let’s see how we start off this chit chat” Jaime exclaims, entering Kate’s office and watching the woman walk to the chair behind her desk. Taking a seat, Jaime notices something off about this introduction, the manner in which Kate sits, her hands folded and her eyes pointed towards the table suggesting to the girl that today isn’t like others. “I have some news that I’d like to share with you first” Kate says, Jaime immediately placing her hands to either edge of her seat cushion.
“Why does it feel like you’re about to drop a bomb on me?” Jaime asks, her obvious concern noticeable, though a hint of humor inserted to ensure the mood remains lifted for the time being. “Would you like to guess?” Kate asks, watching Jaime through the part in the hair before her eyes as the girl begins to quickly pick up on signals and immediately read the nature of whatever is to come. “It’s nothing good” Jaime begins, “your hands are folded, you’re creating separation between us and you’re letting me pick the subject.” Piecing together the fact that the white noise-producing machine isn’t powered on and Kate remains silent as she awaits Jaime’s conclusion, the girl becomes disappointed, believing herself to have stumbled onto an accurate prediction. Her eyes sinking and her lips finding a spot between the ends of her left molars, Jaime takes in a deep breath and nods to herself. “I assume you’ve probably figured it out by now” Kate replies, remaining patient for Jaime to say it aloud herself as her lips pucker. “I’d rather you say it than me” Kate continues, watching Jaime look up at her. Without wasting another second, Jaime gets up from her chair and walks over to Kate, putting her arms around her and sharing a hug. Returning the gesture without question, the two eventually pull apart and Kate stares into Jaime’s eyes, her stare giving the girl permission to be at ease with her conclusion. “You’re leaving... aren’t you?” Jaime asks, Kate’s nod signalling the end of their time together as therapist and client. Refusing to allow tears to run, Jaime smiles and attempts to speak, only for her initial attempt to come up short as she gets choked up. “Damnit” Jaime replies, the room for talking without needing to cry capping at a single word, the single word accomplishing her attempt to verbalize her inner thoughts perfectly. “I know” Kate replies, her hands running up and down Jaime’s shoulders as she shares the disappointment in having to end this stage of their existence. “It was bound to happen eventually somehow” Kate replies, pulling Jaime in for another hug. <- “Jaime!” Kayla shouts, finally breaking through to the girl having lost herself in a daydream recollection. “Yeah, I’m here” Jaime replies, watching Kayla’s head cock back as she takes a seat at the opposite end of the desk formerly occupied by Wenton, now occupied by Jaime herself. “I’m glad to hear that” Kayla replies, “but you’ve got more pressing issues that me calling out your name.” “Anything new?” Jaime asks, Kayla informing her that they’ve been standing outside, awaiting clarification as they have for the last three days. “What do I say?” Jaime asks, her arms extending as she ponders over how to put the past few days into words. “The last thing you should be right now is another invisible leader” Kayla replies, pointing out the peaceful patience of the crowd as an example of their trust that she’ll do what’s right. “Just tell them the truth” Kayla continues, her hand patting Jaime on the shoulder, “it’s more than Django ever gave them.” Her leg crossed, Jaime puts her finger to her lip and gently bites on it, calling Kayla just before she can disappear. “Have you ever been to therapy?” Jaime asks, the question confusing Kayla, who answers with a ‘no.’ Figuring she’d rather not know the reason behind it, Kayla brushes off the question and leaves, allowing Jaime to consider her options on her own. = Dire is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = -> “Nothing surprises me anymore” Chevy says, his hand gripping onto a foam coffee cup as Kayla gleefully walks by his side. “We just lose ourselves in the moment and never pick up where we left off” Chevy continues, pointing out how often we forget names and faces. “Can you remember your grandmothers phone number by heart?” Kayla asks, watching Chevy’s face drop in embarrassment. “Then you shouldn’t be one to complain!” Kayla amuses, running her shoulder into Chevy’s as the pair remain laughing about beneath the warm, California sun. “How about-” Chevy begins, stumbling over himself when he knocks into someone whilst turning the corner. “Oh shit, maan. I’m sorry about that!” Chevy exclaims, reaching down to help the man he bumped into pick up the items he caused to drop onto the shade-covered side walk. “Here, uh… Jordan?” Chevy begins, reading the name at the top of the green, college-ruled notebook in his hand. “Thanks” the man replies, patting Chevy on the back and telling him not to worry about it. Going about their separate ways, Chevy and Kayla return to their walk, continuing their conversation until later in the evening. “You’re a lot of fun” Chevy declares, watching Kayla’s face light up as he walks her to her apartment complex. “Thank you, I can say the same to you” Kayla replies, asking Chevy if he’d like to share the day with her again soon. “I’d like that a lot” the man replies, watching the woman thank him again for the date and disappear into her complex. His hands tucked into his pockets, Chevy nods to himself and walks himself back to his end of town. After a short number of months, the buzzer to Chevy’s apartment door beeps, pulling him from his writing as he notices just how dark the sky had become outside. Spending the night with Kayla, Chevy wakes up the following morning to see the woman, her body nude with the covers stretching over the small of her back. Awoken by the morning sun peering through his blinds and covering his eyes, Chevy pushes himself up by the elbows and glances towards Kayla. The comfort of having someone beside him calms the air, allowing him to pull the covers the rest of the way up and return his head to the pillow. As weeks turn into months, a year passes with the pair remaining close, only growing closer with each day. “I have something for you” Chevy says, the day turning into night as the Kayla awaits what she can only assume to be an anniversary gift. “Didn’t I say you were enough of a gift already?” Kayla asks, her smile turning into a flattered smirk as Chevy returns with a small box stretched out towards her. “I thought you’d like this almost as much” Chevy replies, watching the woman take the box and graciously untie the bow. “Holy shit, Chevy” Kayla remarks, pulling a key with a bird-shaped head from within and looking towards the elated man. “The first night you stayed over, I woke up, saw you and couldn’t stop smiling” Chevy responds, “I still remember exactly how I felt and now I wanna feel that every morning.” Getting up from her seat, Kayla walks into Chevy’s arms and places her hands to each side of his face, thanking him. <- “Wake the fuck up!” Clayton shouts, shaking Chevy’s head in his hands as the man lay semi-conscious, dirt covering every inch of his face as his arms lay at his sides. “Come on you son of a bitch” Clayton shouts, pulling Chevy up and dragging him out into the open. Gunfire still hurling through the air at a lesser pace than it used to, Clayton is forced to pull Chevy back into cover, laying behind some bushes whilst firing a few rounds back. With bullets pulling up grass a few feet away, Clayton returns fire towards a windowless house and manages to make contact. Watching a head poke back into view, Clayton fires another round off and puts the threat down. Starting to come back, Chevy groans as the pain begins getting to him, keeping enough strength to pull his arm over Clayton’s shoulder and try to lighten his body weight to ease the task of carrying him. “We’re getting there, Chevy” Clayton says, the only response coming from the wounded man is Kayla’s name. “We’re gonna get you some help, man” Clayton continues, assisting Chevy down a street on the outskirts of Los Angeles, the road sign indicating the close proximity of Mount Cedar-Sinai giving Clayton hope that it won’t be too late to keep the infection in Chevy’s body from being too advanced to overcome. | -> “We’ll still stay in contact, right?” Jaime asks, Kate not even needing a second to come to agreement. “I’d like to think this is just the end of our first chapter, and the start of a second… More casual chapter” Kate replies, the affirmation that she’ll be staying in Jaime’s life at least in one form putting a smile on the girl’s face. “I don’t even know who else I’d turn to” Jaime admits, acknowledging her appreciation for other friends, but not having any go-to in the way Kate is. “I’m not going anywhere” Kate replies, “I just won’t be in this chair anymore.” Nodding, Jaime thanks Kate for always being there for her. Being the final client of her day, Kate ends her final workday by walking out of the building alongside Jaime, running down plans to meet at the local tavern later that evening. “I’ll be there around eight?” Kate asks, Jaime insisting the time sounds good before taking a few steps in the direction of her truck. “Watch out!” a passer-by shouts, the road beside the therapy hall hosting a driver heading in the direction of oncoming traffic until the chilling sounds of twisting metal fills the air. Shouting profanities, Jaime and Kate turn away from their vehicles and towards the scene of the crash. The distracted driver of one car slamming at full-speed directly into the front of another creating reason to believe casualties are bound to be reported. Running towards the nearest vehicle, though both remain halted in the middle of the road, Jaime and Kate lean through the mangled driver’s window to find the first driver barely conscious. “This one’s alive!” Kate shouts, a group of nearby civilians rushing from their places along the area to aid those wounded. “I’ve got no pulse over here!” another man shouts from the opposite car, his hands covered in blood from his attempted check. “The door isn’t budging” Kate exclaims, one foot pressed against the car to aid in freeing the man trapped inside to no luck. “I’m gonna see if they’ve got something in the office!” Kate mutters, hurrying towards the entrance of the building now flooding with workers and clients alike from within having overhead the fiasco. Within seconds, shouting originates from the huddled crowds, the engine of a car growing closer as its tired begin skidding. <- “Jesus fucking christ, Jaime!” Kennedy shouts, her hands slamming on the desk as her mother tells her not to use such language. “People are still killing each other! Me cussing is the least of your problems!” Kennedy retorts, her mother very anxiously trying to brush away her original concern. “Honey, are you alright?” Alex asks, her hands running down the sides of Jaime’s face as she notices the woman’s skin growing pale. “Yeah, I’m fine” Jaime replies, pushing herself off her seat and walking for the front door. “You don’t look alright” Alex quips, her youngest and herself following after her eldest as the new leading lady of Los Angeles heads for the rooftop stairwell. “What are you doing?” Alex asks, her daughter insisting that she needs some air and to be alone. Refusing, Alex continues to persist, Kennedy following closely. Following through the doorway, Alex and Kennedy watch Jaime stand out into the middle of the roof and just take a seat in the open, her legs crossed beneath themselves. Watching her daughter just take a seat and stare out into the cloudless sky, Alex stands by herself as Kennedy soon follows after, taking a seat next to her sister. Appreciating the image, Alex walks up to the pair and takes a seat in between, staring out into the sky and joining the daydream as it unfolds. “What do you think about when you do this?” Alex asks, her question directed at Jaime despite her eyes locking onto the basin of light blue above. “The same thing I always do” Jaime replies, her voice growing tired, “the same story over, and over, and over again.” When questioned ‘what story’ by Kennedy, Jaime looks towards her younger sibling and smiles. “Just the story of how I got here” Jaime replies, “and when I finish it, I start all over again.” “How does it end?” Alex asks, “I mean, if you have to start it over again, and it never changes, you must’ve told yourself the ending somewhere along the lines?” Her face returning to the sky, though her head remaining angled towards her mother, Jaime admits that she never really thinks about it in that way. “When it’s over, I just get the feeling that it’s over and I do it all over again” Jaime replies, “not much rhyme or reason to it.” “Is it a happy story?” Kennedy asks, her big sister’s smile returning, though with less joy behind it. “It goes both ways” Jaime replies, immediately leaving the door open for Alex to ask whether the feeling of it being over is a good feeling or not. “Not lately, it hasn’t” Jaime replies, her head hung for a moment before she returns it to the sky. “Where does it start?” Kennedy asks, Jaime admitting that she hasn’t though much about that either. “I just kind of let it play out the way it plays out” Jaime continues, “there’s really not much more to it than that.” The three, sat beside one another, stare peacefully into the mid-day sky as the sun nears the point of turning the horizon orange. “I don’t mean to turn the conversation into something too depressing” Alex quips, watching Jaime’s face turns towards her, “but these people are waiting for you to run down what happens next, and I don’t think they want to wait much longer. “I know” Jaime replies, her lips puckering as her mother reminds her that it’s alright not knowing where to go next. “Sometimes things just happen, and you never really realize it until it either hits you out of nowhere or the abnormal just becomes normal” Alex continues, “it’s okay to be lost sometimes.” Her head nodding, Jaime replies with ‘I know’ again before pulling herself to her feet and walking for the entry into the stairwell. Kennedy descending first, Alex takes a moment to ask Jaime a question before following suit. “Is it a happy story?” Alex asks, her daughter’s eyelids covering most of her eyes as protection from the sunlight. “No” Jaime replies, the disappointment in her face at having to admit that only matched by the depression in her future, “no it isn’t.” | -> Emerging through the front door, Chevy places his keys atop a wooden stool tucked away in the corner and glances towards the couch. “You okay?” Chevy asks, noticing something off when he spots Kayla staring at the television with a pillow tucked in her arms, and the television being off. Calling his girlfriend’s name, Chevy watches the girl turn towards him, the mascara around her eyes ruined by a day’s worth of crying. One week later, Chevy accompanies Kayla to her father’s funeral, his hand holding hers, and her head resting against his shoulder. Months later, Kayla accompanies Chevy to the hospital bedside of his cancer-ridden brother, offering his good-bye’s as the final days inch near. Eight days later, Kayla accompanies Chevy to his brother’s funeral, their only remaining family no longer with them. “We still have each other” Kayla whispers, her mother having died many years prior, and Chevy’s single-mother having been killed in a car accident just after he turned nineteen. “Forever and always” Chevy replies, his head resting against Kayla’s, which nestles against his shoulder once more. As weeks turn into more months, the pair remain close, their final true pillars of trust in the world residing in each other. <- “Wake the fuck up!” Clayton shouts, his hand slamming against the side of Chevy’s head as the suffering Chevy is dragged through the front doors of Mount Cedar-Sinai. “I need some help over here!” Clayton shouts, a nurse rushing up to Chevy’s side and assisting him into a cleared wing of the building. The man, dropped onto a free bed, is wheeled into an open plot of the building with the question of where the wounds originated from being called into question. “He got into a fight out there a few days ago” Clayton replies, “fucked his leg up real bad.” Calling out his instructions, the care taker directs Clayton to the hospital lobby, telling him to join the guards in keeping watch. “I need Kayla” Chevy mutters, his words barely legible to the naked ear as the doctor tells him to keep his eyes open as much as he can. With his supplies brought to him, the doctor begins going to work, peeling off the infection with a knife as Chevy screams out in pain. “I know it hurts, man!” the doctor replies, “but you’ve gotta try to stay with me!” With the assisting nurse placing a wooden stick in Chevy’s mouth, the doctor returns to his work, slicing away whatever he deems necessary in the moment to save Chevy’s life. The pain becoming too much to bare, Chevy begins fading out, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he loses consciousness once more sending the staff into a hurried panic. | Mid-speech, Jaime apologizes for the time it took her to find the right things to say, making it clear that there was nothing that could be said to make up for what was lost. “I figured I’d start with telling you all the truth about how all of this came to be” Jaime continues, the crowd, noticeably smaller than it was in the days past, anxiously awaiting the answers they’ve been looking for. “The water was never poisonous for consumption, it was simply tampered with on order of federal officials” Jaime explains, “it was their misguided attempt at thinning the population to a more manageable level.” Explaining their idea that the water crisis was to be solved by decreasing the number of people in need of it, Jaime makes it clear that their solution completely misfired. “The chemicals used managed to expand in water until the government stopped pumping it in.” Jaime continues, “the second they stopped, the chemicals already in began mixing with the oxygen, which in turn, created a nation-wide cold front, mixed with a storm of acid rain.” Admitting that it was intentional, Jaime explains that the federal government no longer exists as most either died or went into hiding. “When the acid rain came, it dissolved the remaining acid particles in the water and essentially created the invisible effect of what we’ll see in twenty years or so.” Taking in a deep breath, Jaime explains that forms of plant life will slowly die off for the next twenty years due to the soil no longer being suitable, and the effects of breathing in the air will cause inactive cancer cells to activate in the coming years. “No matter which way you look at it, there’s no way we see another two decades together” Jaime concludes, the instant shock bringing the crowd to their hopeless knees. “There’s nothing that I can say that can change what that means for us” Jaime admits, “but in the coming days, we’ll put together guidelines to make sure that we can all survive the remaining time we have.” “That is all” Jaime concludes, the crowd’s silence ominous as the reason to fight each other or for survival completes depletes. “I’ll now ask the militia heads to join me in the conference room” Jaime continues, returning to the interior of city hall. “Should I still have spoken?” Jaime asks, stopping to look at her mother with her teeth pressing against her lips. Rather than answer, Alex pulls Jaime in for a hug and kisses her head, telling her how much she loves and is proud of her. “Thanks, mom” Jaime replies, her hand brushing her shoulder before she brings herself to walk in the direction of the conference rooms. As she walks past her office, Jaime stops in the hallway and takes a few steps back, entering her new den and closing the doors behind her. Directing herself to the window, Jaime stares off at the view and loses herself in the blue of the sky, readying herself for the end of the story. -> Running towards the nearest vehicle, though both remain halted in the middle of the road, Jaime and Kate lean through the mangled driver’s window to find the first driver barely conscious. “This one’s alive!” Kate shouts, a group of nearby civilians rushing from their places along the area to aid those wounded. “I’ve got no pulse over here!” another man shouts from the opposite car, his hands covered in blood from his attempted check. “The door isn’t budging” Kate exclaims, one foot pressed against the car to aid in freeing the man trapped inside to no luck. “I’m gonna see if they’ve got something in the office!” Kate mutters, hurrying towards the entrance of the building now flooding with workers and clients alike from within having overhead the fiasco. Within seconds, shouting originates from the huddled crowds, the engine of a car growing closer as its tired begin skidding “Kate, check for-” Jaime calls, her head turning towards the woman, only finding the end of a car zip away from the corner of her eye and a shriek of horrified screams from onlookers. Looking around, Jaime calls out Kate’s name again, watching people scattered throughout tuck their heads and mouths into their hands and shoulders, staring away. “Where’d-” Jaime starts, stopping herself in confusion as to what’s going on. “Where the fuck did you go?” Jaime calls, turning around to watch strong-stomached men and women approach the third vehicle. “I couldn’t stop in time!” the man shouts, removing himself from the front seat and walking to the front of his car, immediately throwing up the second he sees the sights before him. “What the fuck’s going on!?” Jaime shouts, her arms extended outwards as she begins approaching the third vehicle. “Don’t come over here!” one of the men shouts, urging Jaime to stay away as the others begins silently walking towards Jaime’s with their hands held out, acting as a shield. Police sirens blaring off in the distance, Jaime fights through each person and quickly approaches the car. “Seriously, don’t come any closer!” the man shouts, his attempt to hold the woman back falling short, Jaime walking to the front of the car in spite of his efforts. “K-” Jaime begins, the first letter not even coming out clearly, a few seconds spent on figuring out what she was looking at before she actually puts the pieces together. Finally, like a twisted puzzle, Jaime realizes the grim sights in front of her when she spots Kate’s glasses hanging halfway out of the car’s front grill. “Kate?” Jaime questions, her mouth slowly widening as she begins to place the final pieces into the correct spots. A lack of anything from words to thoughts, the emptied Jaime slowly backs away from the sight before breaking into a full sprint to her truck. Climbing into the driver’s seat and turning the keys in the ignition, Jaime pulls her truck out of the parking lot and turns onto the road, believing this could all just disappear and restart if she drives far enough away from it. Eyes wide, Jaime turns away from the scene, electing to take on the night as if nothing ever happened. <- | -> “Come over here and drink with us, loser!” one of the many recently-minted twenty-one year olds shouts to Jordan, holding a beer up towards the man stationed across the pub with a pencil in hand. “College isn’t one big drinking party!” Jordan replies, a smirk across his face coming when the group shouts ‘dweeb’ to friendly humor. “Join us when you’re done with math!” the slightly-buzzed student shouts, earning a salute from Jordan in return. “Not a big fan of party drinking?” the bartender asks, watching Jordan chuckle to himself. “Not a big fan of flunking out” the man replies, the bartender patting him on the back as he throws a towel over his own shoulder. “Hey, real quick, do you know that girl over there?” the bartender asks, pointing towards the opposite end of an empty bar counter towards a woman, staring blankly in a glass of cold beer pressed between her hands. “No, why?” Jordan asks, the bartender shrugging it off as nothing. “She came in like an hour ago and she’s just been sitting like that since” the bartender replies, “hasn’t touched her beer once.” Nodding, Jordan watches the bartender walk away before returning to his homework. Returning his gaze to the woman through the corner of his eye, Jordan begins finding it impossible to return to his work without acknowledging her, and chooses to approach her. “Miss?” Jordan asks, the woman turning her head to the side by about five inches, offering that as her acknowledgement of his existence. “Are… you alright?” Jordan asks, his noticeable concern for the woman obvious, watching as she turns her face towards his and swallows the spit building up in her already dry mouth. “Y-” the woman begins, her response quelled by her hidden sobs beginning to break through her sturdy mask. “I’m f-” the woman begins again, this time lifting her hand to her mouth as she begins to break down, her cheeks gone from pale to glistening with tears within seconds. Feeling the emotions running out of her like an explosion ready to go off, the woman takes her purse and dashes for the front door. “Hey!” the bartender shouts, calling for the girl already outside until Jordan insists he put her beer on his tap. Hurrying after the woman, Jordan enters an alleyway and calls her name. “I’m sorry!” the woman shouts back, “I can’t” as her dash slows to a trot. Easily catching up to the woman, Jordan places his hand on her shoulder just as she turns around, her eyes puffy and red. “I’m sorry” the woman insists again, the man instinctively pulling her in to no reluctance, the woman breaking down with her head against Jordan’s chest. “It’s alright” Jordan replies, understanding the great deal of trauma necessary to break down that quickly and to that extent, “you don’t have to explain.” <- “You okay?” Jordan asks, his girlfriend staring off into space as she realizes the mid-day sun to have turned into night. “Yeah” Jaime replies, rubbing her eyes as Jordan closes the door behind himself. “You look tired” Jordan jokes, Jaime flashing him a smile and walking into his arms. “I heard what you said out there earlier” Jordan states, his face pulling away from Jaime as he informs her that he’ll spend every day with her with as much love as the day before. “I love you” Jaime replies, Jordan responding in kind as they share a kiss and pull away. “I’ll meet you at home” Jaime instructs, Jordan giving her a kiss back before making for the front steps. Glancing back to her desk, Jaime runs her finger along the edges and takes her seat, her eyes returning to the night sky settling in over Los Angeles. “From the top” Jaime mutters to herself, the story she plays on repeat starting from the beginning all over again. “...And how does that make you feel, Jaime?” Through her front door, Jaime walks into a quiet home, her fellow survivors expected to be tucked into their beds as she wipes off her shoes. “Kennedy with you?” Alex asks, her voice making Jaime jump as the woman looks across the room, noticing her mother’s silhouette defined at the window, a glass of wine noticeable with it. “No, she went with Chevy, remember?” Jaime replies, placing her shoes on the rack and walking over to the woman, currently on her fifth glass.
“Should I be concerned?” Jaime asks, taking a seat beside the view of the city beside the woman. “No, I’m sure Chevy’s keeping her safe” Alex replies, her words holding a slight slur to them. “I see you’re coming around to him” the daughter replies, taking the glass from her mother’s hand and taking a sip of her own. “I’ve trusted him ever since he took on Eli for you” Alex replies, “I just didn’t want him to know it yet.” Bobbing her head, Jaime looks out at the city, watching the dying fire spread ash into the sky, the smoke finally encompassing more of the view than the orange glow itself. “It’s all going to shit” Alex perks up to say, returning the glass to her hand, “we’re not gonna make it long until something else goes bad.” Her head shaking from one side to the next, Jaime tells the woman not to think in such a way. “Everyone’s gonna stay in line and support each other until we get back to normal” Jaime replies, her mother immediately laughing it off. “Honey, you’re so smart but you’re so disillusioned” Alex replies, Jaime offended almost immediately, “we never cared about each other before this happened and we’re not going to now that we’re here.” “This is the kind of thing that will change that” Jaime replies, Alex laughing it off once again, struggling to sip the drink with each laugh. “We’re Americans” Alex replies, “the only people we look out for is ourselves.” Watching her mother continue to drink, Jaime begins to doubt the state of the group, beginning to come to the belief that they’re lacking the optimism necessary to make this process work. “Things can end well here” Jaime retorts, “refusing to believe that isn’t going to help anyone, it’s just writing something off for the sake of writing something off!” Turning to her daughter, Alex rests the glass on the windowsill and reminds her of what someone’s true nature is. “People like Chevy and Kayla are so rare that you notice what’s special about them immediately” Alex replies, “believing this is going to work isn’t optimism, it’s stupidity.” “Why?” Jaime replies, “why is it so hard to believe that after what these people went through, they wouldn’t fight for a future worth believing in.” Leaning forward, Alex whispers to her daughter to lower her voice. “These kinds of people don’t fight” Alex replies, “they’re the ones that put their own lives ahead of someone else’s just because they can, and then they’ll find whatever excuse they can to justify their decision.” “It’s all about saving face for these people” Alex concludes, Jaime assuring her mother that she’s wrong. “Why am I wrong?” Alex asks, “I’m giving you points that justify my stance, you’re just handing me some inspirational quotes you could’ve gotten off Facebook.” Biting her tongue with a smile of annoyance, Jaime takes the glass and downs the remaining wine before opening one of the many windows and throwing it over the side of the mountain. “I’ve worked with plenty of people that worked their asses off and did as told by a woman much younger than they were without question” Jaime returns, “there’s many more people with a good head on their shoulders than you’d think.” “Jaime, how many of those people do you think truly enjoyed taking orders from a girl half their age?” Alex replies, “secretly, I’m sure they’d much rather turn on you and take all the power for themselves.” Her look steadily focusing on the view of the city for a few seconds, Jaime turns around and tells her mother than no one in her own household batted an eyelash. “Dad may have certainly hated it, but for you and Kennedy…” Jaime begins, her mother immediately possessing a look turning sour quickly, “...I’m the only reason you two even made it out of there alive.” The words coming from her mouth, Jaime stares at her mother, refusing to give up the eye contact until her face is thrown in the opposite direction by a firm slap from the woman in front of her. “You should’ve left when you had the chance” Alex replies, standing from her seat and groggily stumbling towards her room. Her hand pressed against her cheek, Jaime rubs at the handprint and watches her mother hobble away. Her breathing turning heavy and long, Jaime keeps herself from losing control of her anger until she looks out into the midnight sky above Los Angeles, her anger being lost in translation when the adoration for the sight itself takes hold. = Dire is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = His hands folded on his chest, Chevy aimlessly stares at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep as Kennedy and Amelia occupy the couches on either side of him. The floor beneath his body now warm, the man remains wide awake despite the belief of his two female counterparts to be exactly opposite. “Are you awake?” Kennedy whispers, watching Chevy’s eyes take their sights from the direction above to the girl beside him. “No, I’m sleeping with my eyes open” Chevy replies, the young girl giggling, prompting Chevy to match the response. “Are you scared?” Kennedy asks, “of what’s gonna happen now, I mean.” His head shaking, Chevy declines, instead telling Kennedy that it takes some good faith to get them through it all. With a guilty smile, “you can tell me the truth” Kennedy replies, watching Chevy’s eyes lose their good nature. “Yeah” the man replies, “yeah, I am.” Her head returning to her pillow, Kennedy keeps her eyes glued to Chevy as he tells her to keep her spirits high. “If we go into this thinking it’s all gonna end bad, it will” Chevy continues, “but if we hold out some hope, we’ll at least save ourselves from having to live in fear.” Tapping her shoulder, Chevy tells her to get some rest, knowing she has more questions to ask. His eyes closing in an attempt to gain the slightest amount of rest, Chevy’s attention is caught by a jumbled slur of commands off in the near distance. “Do you hear that?” Amelia asks, waking up from her sleep and tossing the blankets off of herself whilst Chevy hurries to the window. “What is it?” Kennedy asks as she tip-toes beside him, staring out at the street, where they originally see nothing. “Who’s that?” Kennedy asks just as Chevy gets prepared to return to bed, pointing out three men being led forward by a set of military workers. “I don’t know” Chevy replies, noticing how weird it is to see random men being led anywhere by the militia with the day-long ceasefire going on. “I’m gonna take a video and send it to Jaime” Chevy says, expecting to gift her a small bargaining chip in any future negotiations she may have. In the focus of the camera, Chevy documents the soldiers pointing the men forward, telling them to hurry as the figures talk back to them, reminding them of the ordered ceasefire. Glancing to each other, two members of the tagging crew pull blades from their gear and plunge them into the men, startling the third, who immediately finds his throat slashed as the original two are taken care of the rest of the way. Continuing to film, Chevy hands the camera to Amelia and leads Kennedy away from the sights, hiding her in a separate room and telling her not to move. Returning to Amelia, Chevy takes his phone back and immediately leads her away from the spot as the soldiers begin continuing their duty, kicking in doors to random houses in an attempt to clear out the south by force. “In here” Chevy directs, leading Amelia into a pantry and covering the doors with a bookshelf. Whispering for Kennedy, Chevy leads her into a bathroom, where he directs her into a cabinet space beneath the sink. “Don’t move a muscle, don’t say a word unless I tell you to” Chevy says, closing the doors and jumping into the bathtub as the door to their home is kicked in. Pressing his back up against the linoleum walls, Chevy keeps his hand draped over his gun, watching the moonlight bathe the bathroom in light well enough for him to see the outline of whatever rests behind the curtains. The boots stomping inside growing slow and methodical, Chevy begins assuming the process of searching for inhabitants in hiding places to be underway. Within moments of the door being kicked in, the door to the bathroom slowly glides across the floor and comes to a stop, pressing against the curtain as a large man cautiously walks in. The outline standing a few inches taller than Chevy himself, it remains frozen before Chevy’s eyes, turning towards the sink. His hand wrapping around the stock of the firearm, Chevy watches the man approach the mirror and take a look at his reflection. Before long, the sound of his mates giving off the ‘all-clear’ signals the man in front of the mirror to be the final soldier remaining in the house. Knowing this, Chevy retrieves his gun as the man turns away from the mirror and eyes the curtains themselves. His approach slow, the man leans up to the curtain, his nose pressing to the fabric itself as the man on the other side, armed with a regular handgun, holds the barrel with a steady hand directly at the soldier’s left eye. Standing straight, the soldier nods and walks away, leaving the bathroom as his boots finally make contact with the wooden front porch, allowing Chevy to remove himself from hiding. “Are you alright?” Chevy asks, taking Kennedy by the hand and helping her up as she nods. Assisting Amelia out of her hiding place, Chevy takes his phone out and realizes his phone had been recording the entire ordeal. Sending the video to Kennedy’s sister, Chevy leads the girls through the back of the house and around the side. Manually unlocking the car door, Chevy gently pulls it open and leads Kennedy into the passenger’s seat. Amelia entering next, Chevy finds himself alerted by the sound of a soldier calling out something unusual. Turning the key in the ignition, Chevy powers the vehicle on as the lone soldier prepares to open fire. Unable to climb into the backseat, Chevy tells the woman to remain in the driver’s seat as he runs around the back. His hand extending for the handle, the sensation of his tendons tearing as his hand moves in an unnatural way catches his focus before the man tackling him against the door manages to. Bullets beginning to fly, Chevy goes to the ground at the hands of the soldier from the bathroom having caught him off guard. “Drive!” Chevy shouts, holding his hand out to slam Amelia’s door shut a he struggles with the patrol. “Go!” Chevy follows, demanding Amelia do as told until she finally puts the vehicle into reverse and makes off for the hills. The soldier now bringing in backup, Chevy turns the man atop him towards his armed counterparts and allows his body to take the gunfire intended for him. Disarming the corpse, Chevy fires a few warning shots in the direction of the armed enforcements and hurries away, taking cover behind whatever he can as Amelia and Kennedy make their escape. | // “It’s not gonna happen” Jaime replies, “I’ve already made up my mind, that isn’t going to change.” Opposite the stubborn business owner, Kate hangs her head, the disappointment noticed by Jaime, effective in its use as a method of making Jaime feel bad. “What?” Jaime asks, her guilt only rivaled by her exhaustion of being told the countless reasons to move on and leave her family in the abusive, drunken dust. “He’s gonna do something eventually” Kate replies, “he’s not just going to let you walk over him like this, drunk or sober.” Assuring Kate that everything will be fine, the woman in a position of power refuses to take Jaime’s word as gospel. “He’s on a ventilator in the hospital, Kate” Jaime returns, “even if he wanted to do something, he can’t.” “And what happens when he gets back on his feet?” Kate asks, her words becoming hostile and her patience being tested far enough. “Here’s the issue, Jaime… He wants to beat you so badly but he knows that he can’t” Kate begins, walking around the table and telling the girl sat before her to stand up. “The second that he does, that trigger in his brain will go off and he’s not gonna stop” Kate continues, “he’s gonna take out all that frustration at once and he’s gonna fucking kill you.” The prediction feeling more like a case of deja vu, Jaime quiets down, her stance on the issue taking a backseat to the defense of truths kept away from Kate’s ears. “You don’t know that” Jaime replies, “he hasn’t beaten Kennedy, why do you think he’d beat me?” Her head tilting as she begins to show a crooked smile, Kate tells Jaime to get her head out of her ass and be real with herself for once. “What’s the difference between you and Kennedy?” Kate asks, “one’s a middle school student, and the other’s a fucking mogul with enough money to buy him eight times over!” Informing Jaime that the concept of being untouchable is just an illusion, Kate asks Jaime to describe what happens when that illusion is shattered. “When there’s no going back and you’re already done for, there’s no reason to stop” Kate concludes, “and you’ll get caught in it if you don’t get out now.” // Her name called three times, Jaime finally begins hearing her name beckoned for, and turns around to see Kayla walking towards her. “Sorry, you weren’t responding” Kayla replies, having begun approaching the woman until she finally responded. “What’s up?” Jaime asks, the woman asking if Chevy had come home with Kennedy and Amelia yet. “Not as far as I know” Jaime replies, the woman doing her best to brush off the slight worry by walking for the bar. “They’ll be back” Jaime says, watching Kayla nod. Returning her stare towards the city below, Jaime’s mind begins turning away, latching onto a question she keeps finding herself wanting an answer to. “Does Chevy believe in me?” Jaime asks, directing the question to the woman behind her as she’s mid-pour. “Of course he does” Kayla replies, topping off her glass and walking up to her fellow survivor, “he just doesn’t believe in the people you’re leading.” “That’s funny” Jaime replies, “my mother just said the same thing.” Handing Jaime the glass, Kayla admits that she holds no faith in the people she’s attempting to govern either, making it clear that belief in the people themselves is not the issue. “I don’t believe in those people either” Kayla admits, “but the question isn’t whether or not they can be trusted, it’s whether or not your influence is stronger than their response.” Admitting that she’s already realized that, Jaime responds by confessing that she won’t let herself get anywhere with them if she doesn’t believe in them. “If they can’t be saved, I won’t try to save them” Jaime continues, “it’s easier to blindly believe in them than to go into it pretending and hoping for the best.” Returning to the bar, Kayla grabs the glass of vodka and takes her glass back from Jaime, replacing it with the remainder of the bottle itself. “Good call” Jaime replies, drinking straight from the bottle and Kayla sips from the glass. “We’re gonna ge-” Jaime begins, stopped by the sound of sudden and immediate pounding at the front door. Each thunderous slam blasting through the home, Jaime reaches the handle and pulls the door open, Kennedy bursting through the doorway and running into Jaime’s arms as Amelia follows shortly thereafter. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Jaime asks, watching Amelia struggle to speak. “Where’s Chevy?” Kayla asks, realizing both girls have returned with two-thirds of the departed party. “We were attacked” Amelia mutters, her words coming in intervals whilst Jordan and Alex stumble into the living room. “What’s going on?” Jordan asks, watching the jumbled scene play out with dictating its pace. “What are you talking about, Amelia?” Jaime asks, Kennedy simply referencing a group of soldiers killing people in the streets. Her eyes locking onto Kayla, Jaime spots the same immediate concern present in the eyes of Kayla as they both begin to put these soldiers and city hall in the same group. “He sent you a video” Amelia replies, “they stabbed people and started breaking down doors!” “Where’s Chevy right now?” Kayla asks, Amelia admitting that she has no idea. “He got tackled by one of them and told us to start driving once they started shooting!” Amelia returns, Kayla’s concern turning into dread. Throwing Jordan her phone and telling him to search for the video, Jaime asks Amelia where all of this went down, the specific location being enough for Jaime to direct Kayla into the car. “This is fucking ridiculous” Jordan exclaims, Jaime unable to locate the film. “The cell tower’s down, of course you didn’t” Kayla replies, her shoes thudding against the ground with force as she climbs into the passenger’s seat. “Don’t leave this house” Jaime orders, pulling the vehicle out of her lot and leaving Jordan and the remainder of the group behind as the pair disappear beneath the hill. | His pant leg torn, the edges of the holes stained with blood from his road rash, Chevy hobbles through one backyard after another in search of any sign of trustworthy life. Drained and gasping for air, the man slams into the side of a rundown house and slowly slides down until his rear meets the grass. His breathing slowing as his energy slowly rebuilds, the wounded survivor listens carefully as the sounds of armed men conversing in his direction draws near. Pulling himself up, Chevy continues valiantly fighting on before the tug of an pulls him onto a railing-less patio by the throat, a second hand pulling him back over the mouth. “Just be still” the voice whispers, a blade appearing to Chevy’s right side and slowly lifting further into view. His fight having gone long ago, Chevy finds himself unable to break from his restraints, opting to just look forward and accept his fate. Seconds later, the blade raches over his face and buries itself in the throat of the oncoming guard, the blood spilling down the handle like liquid from a juicer. “Stay quiet” the voice whispers, releasing Chevy and reaching for the soldier’s gun before firing a single round into the eye of the second guard. Disappearing behind the corner, the man returns a minute later with the uniform of the soldier in his hands. Having yet to see Chevy’s current physical state, the man tosses the uniform to him and hands him a bottle of water, rubbing alcohol and a few bandages. “It’s not much, but get yourself patched up and follow me if you wanna make it out of here alive” the man says, Chevy not wasting a moment further after taking a few seconds to consider his options. His teeth pressing against a bar of metal, Chevy runs the alcohol over his burns and bandages it up as best as he can. Prying the bar from his mouth as if Chevy were a dog, the man tilts Chevy’s head up and runs water into his mouth, telling him to keep hydrated. “You got somewhere to be?” the man asks, Chevy muttering “my girl” and “up in the hills” through bated breaths. “You got a name?” the man proceeds to ask, Chevy’s eyes narrowing as he reaches for the uniform. “Do you?” Chevy asks, the man appreciating the desire for answers. “Clayton” the knife-wielding savior replies, Chevy offering his name as well. “Well then, Mr. Chevy” Clayton begins, pulling the soldier’s gear over his shoulders, “let’s get you back to your girl in the hills.” Unsure about whether or not to blindly trust the man, Chevy acknowledges his life remaining intact, and agrees to follow Clayton as long as the end goal remains in his favor. | “We shouldn’t have left them back there” Kayla quips, “we’re walking up to a man telling his soldiers to kill everything that walks, completely unarmed.” Her hands tightly clutching the steering wheel, Jaime tells Kayla that they are doing almost exactly as she stated, but without being unarmed. “Do you trust me?” Jaime asks, her eyes locking on the woman in the seat next to her, watching a nod arise from the woman as the car quickly swings into a front lot. Hurrying from her vehicle, Jaime slams her fists against the door of the militia leader and tells him to get his men ready for combat. Doing as instructed, the militia leader vanishes into the depths of the former fire station building and allows Jaime to return to her car. Continuing to drive with a purpose, Jaime finally appears at the front gates of city hall, her demand for the attention of mayor Wenton blaring through the megaphone in her hands. Despite being within the dead of night, Django trots out confidently still dressed in a full suit with armed guards hurrying to the gates along his sides. “You’re early” Django replies, his care not remaining with her reasoning nor her tone, but rather with her presence as a whole. “Where are your guards?” Jaime asks, watching Django’s head tilt as he plays unaware. “I’d assume those not guarding the perimeter would be asleep, Jaime” the man replies, his voice condescending. “What are their perimeters?” Jaime asks, further refusal to answer coming from Django’s lips. “Wherever they deem necessary, as per usual” the commander replies, brushing off Jaime’s notion that he doesn’t know where his men are. “I know where my men are, I know what their job is and I don’t see why you need to be here” Django replies, his tone falling from condescending to outright annoyed. “Either tell me why you’re here, or get back in your car and leave” Django continues, Jaime’s eyelids beginning to slightly twitch as she takes note of his hidden grin starting to slip out. “May we talk in private?” Jaime asks, Django immediately crossing his arms and refusing. “I don’t see why we have to, I also don’t see why we’re here” Django replies, “so tell me why you’re here or get lost.” “I’ll only ask one more time” Jaime returns, the twitch in her eye amusing Django, who fully understands what it represents, but pays it no care. “No, you will not. I will ask one more time” Django retorts, “tell me why we need to speak in private or there are going to be issues.” Her aggravation already boiling to the top, Jaime tells Django that there have already been issues, prompting him to shrug and turn away. His steps returning him to the building, Django tells the remaining guards to take care of business. With their guns lifting, the soldiers take aim, watching Jaime and Kayla rush behind their vehicles as the militia hurl molotov cocktails at the gates, lighting Django’s men ablaze. Their weapons firing bullets astray with their hands instinctively holding down the trigger, the guards roll around on the ground as chains fly over the top of the gates. Demanding the militia hurry, Jaime fires random shots towards the building’s doors as Django disappears within them. Kayla returning from the relocation of their getaway vehicle, the pair pull themselves as far away as they can as the trucks behind them begin bringing the gates down. The sound of metal twisting from their most-strained sources pulsating through the air as the supports buckle, allowing the massive tons of metal bars to collapse to the ground in a heap. Ringing against the asphalt with a violent groan, the fence topples in every direction and exposes the main hull of the building to the will of the people. Dashing up the stairs, Jaime and Kayla are closely followed by the militia, clearing the path ahead for a clean attempt at Django. Heaving insults back, Django fires blank rounds at whatever remains below in an attempt to scare the group off, the effects being minimized to almost nothing. As he reaches the top of the stairwell, Django unloads the rest of the clip at whatever he can spot below. Just behind Jaime, the militia leader topples over on the stairway, a bullet finding his neck, the blood within spilling out onto the stairs and dripping at whatever is below. Slamming the single exit behind him, Django climbs into a helicopter and soars away, watching from the air as Jaime and Kayla lead a leader-less militia to the perfect spot to witness his escape. His middle finger raised, Django’s flight disappears into the night sky as bullets remain flying throughout the city. “What do we do now?” Kayla asks, her hand hoisted over her brow as the wind from the propellers remains whipping towards the face of herself and Jaime. Her eyes travelling to the woman in question, Kayla watches Jaime step forward towards the helicopter without word, the only response coming moments later when she admits to having no idea. “We deal with whatever happens next” Jaime adds, looking back to Kayla and whichever militia members didn’t stay back to help their leader. “We look after each other” Jaime continues, looking towards Kayla, who nods in distress, still unknowing of whether or not Chevy or the remainder of the group are alright. |
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April 2022
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