Season 4 Finale
/ Eight Months after the Fall of Sheol / Groaning in his sleep, John tosses in bed beside his wife, the muffled thumping resonating in the distance progressively growing more noticeable over time. Within moments of first hearing the beckoning cries for attention, Jess staggers awake as well, rubbing the exhaustion from her face before shaking John awake. “Honey, I think someone’s at the front gate” Jess explains, John’s military background allowing him to brush off anything in order to get a little extra sleep. Such a long amount of time gone without communication with another living person, John almost began to forget what it was like to share the world with someone other than his group. Having grown accustomed to the silence of night, the ruckus was easy for John to brush off, Jess’ insistence of there being survivors awaiting their response giving John the confirmation he needs to treat the signalling with the seriousness it deserves. Groggily stepping out of bed, John and Jess find their dark room flooded with the lights from the motel walls outside, Meghan flicking on their room light before confirming Jess’ belief. Looking towards his fellow survivors, now awakened in the middle of the night with guns readied for whomever resides upon the other side of their metal divider, John marches towards the gate, giving the clearance needed for Cameron to reveal their comfortable interior to the world beyond. Greeting those on the other side, a mother and father, joined by their son and daughter, thank the group for having allowed them into their home. “Did anyone follow you here?” John asks, his hand on his gun in the event he needs it, the family denying such a thing. “Our car ran out of gas just down the road” the father explains, “we didn’t mean to disrupt you or anything, we just saw lights on and knew someone would have to be here keeping them that way.” The first to appreciate the sight of new people, Troy walks up to the family and offers them a handshake, their names given by the father accordingly. “I’m Winston, this is my wife, Harper” the father explains, “this is our daughter, Lucy… And our son, Damon.” Looking towards John, Troy gives a smile, one which the man opposite him gives an equal nod to. “Get them a room and some clothes” John orders, “some food, too, if we have some to spare.” Strolling out of the woods with his arms extended, an aggravated Emilio calls out to John in an annoyed tone. “What the fuck are you doing just letting new people in the place?” Emilio asks, John’s hand extended outwards, telling Emilio to go back home. “We meet new people for the first time in damn near a year and you want me to go home?” Emilio asks, his tone splitting between sarcastic and mocking, “how about you go fuck yourself?” Trying to brush past John, Emilio bumps his shoulder into the man, a gesture which John doesn’t take kindly to. Reaching out, John pulls Emilio around, staring the man down until Jess gets in between the both of them. “This shit is not going down now, I don’t care what you two think about it” Jess explains, calming the situation down, acting as the defusal. “Now, let’s get to-” Jess begins, a struggle ensuing behind them, capturing their undivided attention in the moment, all three faces glancing back at the group a few yards away. Having stripped Troy of his weapon, Winston takes the young man hostage, Harper doing the same to Meghan, both held in a single-armed sleeperhold whilst the couple aims at anyone they don’t associate with. In an instant, Damon and Lucy tackle Amy and hold her hostage all the same, an act which only puts John and Jess on pure instinct, their intentions of talking the family down from their pedestal fading the moment their daughter is pulled into the escalating tensions. “You keep your hands up and do what we say or we’ll kill all of you!” the family demands, their first declaration being for the group to set their weapons down. “Sorry, but that’s not happening” Angela replies, her aim improving with each passing day, a suggestion immediately argued against by Emilio. “Everyone set your weapons down” Emilio calls out, John turning towards the man, whose attitude has evolved from anger to compassion. “I’m sure whatever you’re looking for, we can get for you” Emilio explains, his hands held out as he nods to John, “no one needs to get hurt here, just tell us what you need.” Taking notice of Emilio’s genuine shift in attitude, John doubles down on the man’s order, instructing every resident of the camp to set their weapons down. Hesitant, the group does as told, every eye in the camp, the family’s included, now belonging to the trio at the head of it. “What do we do now?” Jess whispers to John, the man looking at the desperate eyes of the father, schizophrenically darting around the camp, panic settling in, telling John all he needs to know. “Now we bide our time” John replies, swallowing the fear building up within him, betting on the ability of his group to pick their moments and deal with the issue head on. = Rise 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 3 onwards = “What’s the big plan?” John asks, his hands tied behind his back and his body tied to that of his wife, Winston’s back turned towards him, the rifle in his hand held to his chest. “Are you just gonna ignore me?” John wonders aloud, having taken great notice of the man’s refusal to acknowledge him by this point, “if you’re not going to talk to me, at least realize that you’re holding that rifle the wrong way.” Despite making an effort to hide it, Winston’s head turns slightly to the side, his eyes taking themselves to the corner of his eyelids, drawing closer to the source of John’s voice. “You need to have your left hand on the side of the rifle, you currently have it on the mounting holes” John explains, the man turning his face back towards the window he stands in front of, hand slowly adjusting to the correct position. “I’ve helped you, now you can help me” John explains, “what’s the plan here?” Acknowledging the need to stay fair, Winston owns up to his part, head remaining locked onto the sights of the camp from just beyond the glass as he admits that the plan is as simple as any other plan. “Harper’s gonna make sure this camp doesn’t need any more hands than we have to operate and then we take it from you” Winston explains, John smirking to himself in response. “Great plan, I mean… It’s a true work of art” John returns, “you take our shit, dump us on the side of the road and have us fuck off… How original.” Disrespected, Winston laughs off John’s train of thought to share the same lack of respect. “We don’t let people go” Winston replies, the smirk on John’s face, whether genuine or an act, slowly fading upon this correction. “We can’t take any chances you’ll come back here and try to take it back from us” Winston explains, “we’ll make sure your deaths are quick and painless, though.” Looking back to her husband, Jess’ face sprouts an immediate worry, John asking in passing whether or not they’ve killed anyone yet. “Whoever you had inside these walls is still alive for now” Winston explains, “we need whatever leverage we can if something falls out of place.” “So you’re just using us as collateral?” Jess asks aloud, the sound of her voice prompting the man to turn around for the first time, verifying her suspicions.”I know it seems like we’re bad people, but we’re just doing what we have to for our family” Winston explains, his eyes locking onto both of his captives, “you understand, right?” Looking up to the man, John makes eye contact with his murderer-in-waiting, a simple “I will soon enough” as his response. | “Why did they leave us in a room alone together?” Katie asks aloud, her hands tied behind her back just as Jess and John are, only her body tied to that of a struggling Salem’s. “I have a feeling they think we can’t handle ourselves” Salem replies, “after all, we’re both foster care kids… So I wouldn’t expect much from us either if I didn’t know any better.” “And what, you know better now that you’ve grown up?” Katie inquires, the woman smiling to herself with her head shaking. “Nope, I know better because I’m more scrappy than that” Salem responds, snapping the plastic binds behind her back and release her hands. “As I said, I’m pretty scrappy” the woman says, having freed herself in time to do the same for Katie. Having regained their limited freedom, the girls race for the window and stare out from their second-floor room, finding Harper investigating the metal barrier they’ve constructed. “Think I can get a shot off?” Katie asks, reaching for her rifle until Salem stops her, suggesting they keep from taking attention upon themselves. Hurrying to the other side of the room, Salem stares out across the length of the motel, the light in every room turned out, not a single figure perfectly visible in any of the windows. “I don’t know where we’d start looking” Salem explains, Katie suggesting they take their chance to escape while they have it. “She clearly thinks we’re all tied up well enough for her to look at the wall without worry that she’d get jumped” Katie explains, “let’s just stay quiet and close to the ground.” | Feeling his wife struggling, John keeps quiet, simply staring at the back of the man’s head, his ominous figure being illuminated, little by little, from the morning sunrise. Taking in a deep breath, John feels the struggling of his wife reach a fever point, the sudden sound of plastic snapping forcing him into action. In one fall swoop, John drops his jaw and tilts his head, Winston panicked at the possibility of something being off. “What was that?” Winston asks, grilling the couple, who stare at him in confusion until John finally answers. “My neck?” the man explains, pulling his head upright again before explaining that he was simply stretching the muscles in his neck. “You’ve sat me on my ass for the last hour, this is the most stretching I can do” John explains, the man turning towards him, blocking out the sun, and affording John the momentary sight of two figures rushing across the lot. “You wanna keep smart mouthing me?” Winston questions, growing closer to John’s face, the smile on the man widening as his stare towards the window grows noticeable. “No, but I think they do” John replies, prompting Winston to turn around in a hurry, watching Salem and Katie scamper across the motel lot. In a hurry, Winston bolts for the door, completely having forgotten about the couple, letting his guard down long enough for Jess to strike. Her hands free of the tacky restraints, Jess drives a wooden shank through the man’s stomach, removing it from the place in which shes dug it into before driving it back again. Seeing his opening, John disarms Winston, letting his wife continue to bury the blade deep within his sternum, killing him slowly before leaving him to die in a pool of his own blood. | “Stop!” Harper shouts, both Katie and Salem stopped mid-effort, hands thrown into the air upon demand as they’re held at gunpoint. “Winston, we’ve got two unrestrained!” Harper shouts, the room her husband stands within unchanged, the door not bursting open as she expected. Calling for the man multiple times, Harper begins to worry for something to be off, only for the door to finally pull in slowly, John and Jess both emerging from within, armed once more. “Drop the weapon” John demands, Harper’s rifle now held towards John, a standoff ensuing between the two until Harper calls for the last remaining reinforcements she has to offer. From another room at the end of the motel, Damon and Lucy drag Amy into the lot by the hair, both girls wielding small handguns, Lucy aiming hers at Jess, Damon aiming his own at Amy. “Don’t give an order you’ll regret making” John warns, his suggestion falling upon deaf ears as Harper switches the tone of the conversation, asking for the status of her husband. “He had a change of heart” John mocks, “he wanted to be the one tied up this time.” Lifting her gun into the air, Harper fires off a shot into the sky before retaking aim at John, demanding to know the truth. “He’s unconscious on the floor and I have his gun” John replies, the woman’s preferred choice of jumping to conclusions only strengthened when she notices the smeared blood on Jess’ shirt. “You killed him” Harper exclaims, John’s finger moving to the trigger quickly as the woman steadies her aim at him. Suddenly, three consecutive shots rip through the air, the first putting Harper down, the others putting down the two children, allowing Amy to fall from Damon’s grip relatively unharmed. Looking around the air for the source of the shots, John and Jess find their eyes meeting those of Emilio’s, the man lowering his weapon upon the damage having been done. With a sigh of relief, John nods to the man stood upon the second level while Jess hurries over to Amy without a word. Nodding to the man, John watches Emilio nod back, appreciation shared between the two, and respect given where it is owed. The day dying into night once more, the camp prepares for what they hope to be a full night’s worth of sleep this time around. “I’ll be back soon, I have to talk to Emilio for a quick second” John explains to his wife, giving her a peck on the lips before leaving the safety of the gated community. Traversing the wooded forest, John stumbles across Emilio’s cabin, the man in full view from the world, his head resting upon the palm of his hand. A knock at the door drawing him in, Emilio finds John waiting for him on the other side, moving to the side to allow John entry. Arm extended, John watches Emilio inspect the bottle of wine in his hand, a token of appreciation on John’s behalf met with confusion. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’ve stopped drinking” Emilio explains, graciously accepting John’s offer and using it as a decoration on his windowsill. “You’ve cut off the booze?” John asks in surprise, Emilio flashing a smile back, admitting that he can’t move on from Bill if he’s spending every night with a drink in his hand. “It’s about time I move on and work for whatever comes next” Emilio explains, “so, while I won’t drink your bottle of cheap wine, I’ll accept it gratefully.” With a nod, John tucks his hands into his pockets, making a passing comment about how nice it looks to see Emilio smiling again. “It’s been a while since it faded, huh?” Emilio questions aloud, John responding in agreement. “Listen, I know we’ve had our differences in opinion over… Well, pretty much ever since we met each other” John explains, “but you didn’t just look after the group today, you saved my family and I, too… I owe you my life for that.” Waving off the gesture, Emilio reminds him that he just walked in with a free bottle of wine in his hand. “You’ve paid me back, we’re even now” Emilio explains, John refusing to fight the man on a front he knows he has no chance of winning, simply sharing a nod with him. Stepping back towards the front door, John stops himself, turning back towards Emilio with his hand raised. “I never did say ‘I’m sorry’” John adds, Emilio’s eyes narrowing in confusion. “What happened with Bill, how you came in at Sheol… Hell, you probably saved my life back there and I didn’t even know it at the time” John explains, “I wish I could have done something… I wish I had said something sooner.” Trying to give the man a smile, the pain Emilio keeps held within takes control instead, forcing the man to simply say he wished the same. “I wish he would have said something sooner, too” Emilio responds, “but I’m not about to let that consume me anymore than it already has.” With a nod, John returns to the door, walking through and leaving Emilio to enjoy the rest of his evening in peace. Eyes glancing back to the wine bottle, Emilio notices his own reflection in the glass, flashing it a smile and moving on with his night. Walking back for the door at the sound of another set of knocking, Emilio greets John at the doorway again, the man looking Emilio in the eyes before reciting what Winston had said to him earlier. “They would have killed us so we wouldn’t come back for them or what they took” John explains, Emilio unable to follow along from the sudden rush of thoughts popping into John’s head. “They’re psychos, murder is kind of the name of their game” Emilio replies, John’s head shaking as he accepts that they may have been onto something. “I don’t know what it was about it, but it just stuck with me” John explains, “they felt it necessary to take no chances.” Pushing the door closed, Emilio lets out a sigh, rubbing his eyes before telling John that what he’s describing is another name for murder. “At this point, everything is another name for murder” John explains, “but if they used it to keep their small, out-gunned and under-sized group alive all this time, it must work!” “Okay John, I get what you’re trying to say, but listen to what you’re saying” Emilio explains, “kill everyone else before they can kill you… Who does that help?” Not pleased with himself in saying it, John does so anyway. “Us, it helps us” John explains, “and after today, I’m not really sure anyone other than us matters to me anymore.” With a smirk, Emilio rolls his eyes, his hands rubbing against his head at the suggestion that such lengths need to be taken on principle alone. “I think there are more effective ways of keeping ourselves alive than killing for the sake of beating other people to the punch” Emilio explains, a response John refuses to buy. “Is that what you truly feel, or is that the politician in you?” John asks, Emilio’s smile fading into a look of uncertainty. “I’m not any more proud of it myself, but I almost watched my daughter die today” John explains, snapping his fingers to illustrate his point, “my whole family, torn apart at the seems as quickly as the snap my fingers just made.” Staring Emilio in the eyes, John tells the man to listen to him carefully, promising that he means every word that he says. “The second anyone tries to harm my family again, I’ll make sure they never walk the face of the earth again” John explains, “and if I don’t give them any chances to do so, we’ll never run into that problem again.” Considering his options, Emilio takes John’s point into account, accepting that some sacrifices need to be made in order to ensure the group’s survival. “Going forward, I’m making it a point” John explains, “we take no more chances.” | / Now / Blood filling his mouth, each gasp John takes is one that leaves him struggling for more, a sight Seth takes pleasure in finding. “Now that I’m the leader of Sun City, I’m making it a point to take down those responsible for putting us into such a tragic state to begin with” Seth explains, “so I’m going to start of my legacy as the leader of Sun City by bringing home the people responsible for putting us into civil disruption.” Glancing towards Dawson, Seth nods to the man, allowing him to return to the militia itself. “I thank you for leading us here, Dawson-” Seth exclaims, watching the man walk on towards the Sun City army, reuniting with the people he considers his true family. “-But you’re also too willing to sell out your own for a place you don’t belong in” Seth follows, looking towards Dawson as the turncoat turns back towards him and firing a round from his rifle. In the blink of an eye, the bullet rips through Dawson’s head, killing him instantly and allowing his lifeless body to drop beside John, who struggles to even turn onto his stomach. Eyes widened, the group watches Dawson’s corpse fall to the ground, Seth returning his gaze to them, explaining that a rat is always a rat, unless taken care of properly. “Well there was your man” Emilio calls out, his voice flummoxed as he watches John struggle to gain any resemblence of strength. “Dawson was the one that put us on that island” Emilio explains, “we were nothing more than collateral in his game, as evident by him turning us in.” With a smirk, Seth accepts Emilio’s statement, agreeing with him on all counts other than one. “It’s not just about bringing the person that actually did it to justice, it’s about making it look good” Seth explains, “and when I come home with a group of chaos agents, I’ll be made into a hero!” Using the last remaining strength he has, John spits the blood from his mouth and hurls himself to his feet, the gun Dawson dropped to the ground returned to John, the hands of it’s rightful owner. “Holy shit, you’re a tough bastard to kill, aren’t you?” Seth jokes, readying his rifle in the event he’d need it once more, John’s gun wavering in the air, his body losing the strength to hold it up. On sight, Seth’s militia moves in closer, their weapons drawn at John while their designated leader treats the conflict with humor. “The brick” John mutters beneath the blood-filled gasps, Seth doing his best to translate John’s statements. “I did kind of cause this, so I’ll help you out while you’re still here” Seth informs John, the man’s face flushed a death-white, blood running from the wound at an alarming rate. Doing as John instructs, Emilio reaches into the bag, handing a brick to Jess, who reads the note to herself. In shock, her eyes slowly widen, mouth opening slowly as Emilio takes the note, directing the group to stand back. Stunned, Jess stares at John, refusing Emilio’s attempts to pull her back, instead staring into John’s eyes and shaking her head. “John, you can’t do this” Jessica explains, Emilio putting on an authoritative voice as he orders Jess to back away from the man. “I- I- I’m sorry” John replies, his back pressing against the gas pump, the blood from his wound running down the dirt-covered machines and staining the asphalt below. “John we have to find Amy, we have to keep moving!” Jess shouts, pleading her case to John as Seth watches on, invested in this encounter as a spectator. “You two are a beautiful couple, and I’d root for you if I didn’t already know how this ends” Seth explains, “you shoot the gas pump thinking it’ll blow up, but because the oil is expired, it’ll merely make a hole and then I’ll let you bleed out some more.” Flashing his blood-covered teeth towards Seth, John shakes his head, gun still aimed at Seth as Jess pleads with the man to find another way. “Go ahead John, take your shot or follow your wife to another way” Seth mocks, “you’re not gonna survive these injuries, it doesn’t matter in the long run anyway… None of this does.” “Jess, you need to move back” Emilio exclaims, the militia no longer holding the group at gunpoint, a much more risky danger looming over the leader they’re designated protectors of, giving the group the greenlight to move back. “I can’t leave him here like this” Jess replies, John’s apologetic face staring towards Jess, watching her fight for his survival with all she can offer, knowing he’s to meet his maker regardless of the efforts. “You’re starting to bore me John” Seth interjects, “take your shot so we can get this over with or let me put you out of your misery.” A tear running down his cheek as his face turns blue, no longer being able to get enough oxygen, John mouths two words to his wife, who watches on as she’s dragged away by Emilio, the man’s arms wrapped around her, ripping her back in desperation. “I’m sorry” John mouths, looking away from Jess and turning back towards an amused Seth. “What’s it gonna be?” Seth questions, watching the blue progress rapidly over John’s face, his hand wavering desperately as he says his final words. “No chances” John exclaims through a breathless gasp, taking the gun from Seth’s head and redirecting it to the gas pump before pulling the trigger. Painting the dark blue, night sky a bright, fiery orange, John engulfs the gas station in a ball of fire and smoke, the ground shaking in the last act of sacrificial defiance. Blown back, the group watches from the ground as the ball of flames turns into a dark, black smoke. Stunned into silence, the group feels the heat pulsate off their skin, Jess quick to return to her feet, crawling up the hill to survey the destruction. An ounce of pathetic hope remaining in her heart depleted upon the sight, Jess watches the flames stretch a massive radius, the possibility of survival from the source outright impossible. Hurrying to her side, Emilio takes Jess by the shoulder and pulls her in close, the woman losing her composure and breaking into pieces, all expressed through the outpouring of tears. One by one, the rest of the group climbs the hill to see the damage for themselves, their hearts dropping one after another, the man they looked to for guidance being lost in a furious blaze. From behind, the silhouettes of the group are all that can be seen, plastered against the backdrop of a raging fire. Keeping by Jessica’s side, Emilio looks on at the burning complex, the group he now finds himself the leader of watching on directionless, uncertain of where to go next. == Rise ==
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“Don’t jump” Emilio calmly, almost mockingly calls out to John, finding the man he’s shared every minute of the apocalypse beside leant over a railing, staring out at the choppy waters ahead. “It feels like I already did metaphorically” John replies, sharing the space with Emilio as the man takes the spot beside him, “my family is falling apart, I can’t feed my group, and this situation looks worse by the day.”
With a nod, Emilio agrees with John’s every statement, disgusted at himself internally, but proud that he has grown to be able to accept the harsh truths. “Every day, it feels more and more like the only way to plan for the future is to not plan for the future” Emilio accepts aloud, “everywhere we go, the result always ends the same… We lose everything we worked for.” Spitting a wad of saliva into the sea before him, John informs Emilio of both Jack and Alicia’s return, having come up empty handed. “They seem off, I’m pretty sure empty hands aren’t the only things they came back with” Emilio says, nonchalantly implying the pair to not be sharing everything they know, “but it doesn’t really matter at this point now, does it?” With a shrug, John inquires about the polls Sun City has undertaken. With a chuckle, Emilio tells John that they’ve already lost in every way other than the actual election. “The people aren’t buying anything I’m selling, and quite frankly, neither am I” Emilio explains, “there’s no coming back for us there.” With a deep breath, John nods to himself, a grimace gradually appearing over his face until he slams the palm of his hand against the slick metal supports beneath him. “We can’t win” John proclaims, Emilio’s head hanging as he accepts the same conclusion, John left to stare out aimlessly at the seas. In silence, both men stare out at the foggy air, the cold growing worse by the day, their paramotorist friend no longer deeming the air quality safe enough to travel through. With a sigh, Emilio confesses details of his capture to John, explaining that the woman responsible for holding him captive tried to convince him of something she thought to be important. “She wanted me to realize that there was no such thing as democracy anymore” Emilio explains, “that the strength of any group depends on the strength of their leader… And only their leader.” “And what did you take away from that?” John asks, his eyes not once having turned towards Emilio, simply speaking to him in passing. “That she was right” Emilio replies, finally gaining the sight of John, a smirk coming over the man’s face, chuckling to himself. “The true politician finally shows his true colors” John jokes, playfully shoving Emilio, who smiles at the irony behind the confession. “I don’t see any reason to believe she’s wrong, if I’m being honest” Emilio replies, the humor dying down, “after all, we told ourselves to take no chances to make sure the group stayed safe.” His head hung, John nods to himself, staring at the horrible waters below in the moment it takes for him to shake his head. “We did too many horrible things because of that in the name of a future we clearly didn’t do well with” John explains, pointing to the landmarks of the island. “I won’t argue about what having to kill innocent people did to my head because I was already pretty fucked up to start with” John admits, “but it was all for nothing.” His lips puckered and head shaking, Emilio disagrees with the man, John surprised at the ease in which Emilio’s able to accept such alternative approaches. “It kept us all alive for damn near a year” Emilio explains, “and the only time we lost people, Meghan… Troy… Cameron… was when we took chances again.” “You’re saying the way to survive is to kill everyone we ever come across from here on out?” John wonders, “just be the guys every television show would portray as the villains?” With a shrug, Emilio reminds John that they’re the villains to someone else at all times. “What it did was keep us alive, and we only lost people when we stopped” Emilio explains, “if being the bad guy is what will keep us alive, I’m willing to be the bad guy.” His mouth slightly agape, John stares out at the distance, the blackened remains of the island across the waterfront in his sights. “We can’t save everyone, John” Emilio explains, “I’m on your side, but I also feel like we can be honest with each other.” Tapping the man beside him on the shoulder, Emilio signals for John’s attention, the man responsible for having gotten the group this far now giving Emilio his undivided attention. “If you’re gonna be the leader, be the leader that can make the tough decisions, even if you don’t like them” Emilio explains, “but if you can’t do what’s needed to keep us alive, don’t be the leader.” With a pat on the man’s shoulder, Emilio walks off, leaving his friend to his inner thoughts, allowing John to take in the view as a backdrop for the flooding thoughts fighting for attention inside his own head. = Rise 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 3 onwards = “I’m not leaving Sun City behind” Dawson shouts, throwing a knife at a beer can placed upon a tree stump, slicing through the thin metal with precision. “If you all want to leave, go ahead… I’m not abandoning the ship I worked to build” Dawson continues, both Heather and Ameil doing what they can to convince the man otherwise. “It’s no one’s fault at this point, Dawson” Ameil explains, “Emilio’s not going to win the election, and the power’s going to be in Seth’s hands.” “That scrawny bastard can scare me off when I’m dead” Dawson exclaims, throwing another knife, this time the blade bouncing aimlessly off a tree and disappearing into the disintegrated remains. “If you stay here, Dawson holds the power over the military… He’ll have you killed if he truly wants to” Ameil explains, a still-defiant Dawson still refusing to leave his work for dead. “If he wants to kill me, I’ll go down as a martyr for the Sun City I built” Dawson replies, an increasingly angry Ameil replying otherwise. “No, you’ll go down as a failed leader and a man too stubborn to accept when something’s been lost” Ameil shouts, a statement immediately prompting Dawson to hurry up to Ameil’s face and admit the same. “I probably am too stubborn to accept when something’s gone” Dawson explains, “you’re so easy to turn and run, yet I’m not calling you a traitor yet.” “He’s didn’t turn his back on anything, he’s just accepting reality” Heather replies, a statement shot down by Dawson as quickly as it leaves her lips. “You shouldn’t have a say in any of this matter seeing that it was your group that caused all of this in the first place” Dawson replies, only growing angrier when Ameil tries to fan the flames. “Let’s not bring people that don’t need to be in this conversation where they don’t belong” Ameil replies, being spat at by Dawson in refusal. “Listen here, you dickless cunt” Dawson calls out, “her group walked in, pitied us into letting them fight a losing battle, cost us everything and now wants to ditch us in the middle of the night!” “We came here to offer you a chance to come with us, no one’s leaving anyone behind” Ameil explains, a tired Dawson shaking his head with a sigh. “You and I, the real you and I, they died with the Sun City her people stole from us” Dawson explains, “any part of us that shares a spot on their cowardly boat is just a shell of what died with the city.” Wielding another knife, Dawson spits upon the ground and hurls the blade towards the tree, digging the sharp edge into the burnt remnants. Walking up to Dawson, Ameil places his hand upon the man’s shoulder, trying to afford comfort to the man he’s known his entire life. “We both know how much this hurts, but we can’t let ourselves die for something that doesn’t exist anymore” Ameil explains, “I might not agree with everything her group stands for, but they’re telling the truth when they say the only thing worth dying for is the future.” Glancing towards the ground, Dawson directs his eyes where Ameil tells him to, looking at the island he’s been forced into exile upon, assuring him that there’s something more to be made out in the world. “It may be stripped baron, we’ll probably have to suffer a bit to make it somewhere… But there’s going to be somewhere to go” Ameil explains, “but you can’t see any of that from this hunk of burnt shit.” His jaw lowering, Dawson attempts to produce a rebuttal, only for his thoughts to fade, eyes only turning towards Ameil with a lack of confidence. Silent, Dawson just stares at his longtime friend, Ameil stood there waiting for a response that doesn’t come, Heather standing patiently behind, hoping for the best outcome. | “Why do we have to leave?” Amy calls out, Jess unwilling to spare any of the harsher truths with her daughter, simply explaining that the weather is going to get bad. While the woman packs her daughter’s clothes into a suitcase, the closed wooden door is knocked upon from the other end, Amy quickly racing to greet those on the other side. “Daddy!” Amy shouts, wrapping her arms around the man’s leg before he picks her up, Jess trying to hide a smile as the man makes his way inside. “Can I talk to you for a second?” John asks aloud, Jess nodding without a word as John places his daughter back to the floor, telling her to play with toys while the pair step into the hallway. Closing the door behind them until the only sight into the room is a crack in the doorway, John turns back towards Jess, the woman immediately inquiring the reason behind this greeting. “Is there something you ne-” Jess begins, silenced immediately when John pulls her into a kiss, his hands caressing the woman’s jawline as their lips pull on each other’s. Once the kiss is broken, John takes Jess’ hands into hers and apologizes for having failed at his job, both on the fronts of being a father and a husband. “I’m gonna have to do things that make me feel less than human when we’re back out there” John explains, “it makes me realize how off I’ve been.” With a sigh, John shakes his head, struggling to find the words to say as he holds his wife’s hands to his chest. “This world is too dangerous for me to just be the parent I was trying to be when all of this started” John explains, “but I have to learn how to make my duty to keeping this group alive fit in with my duty to be your husband and Amy’s father.” With a deep breath, John watches Jess’ face slowly light up, her eyes warming with hope when John finally admits that he’s ready to start learning. “I’ve never been all there mentally, it never mattered where I was, I just never was” John explains, “it’s time for me to grow up… Actually take on the responsibilities I signed up for… On all fronts.” Before being able to apologize, John is pulled into another kiss, his wife refusing to hold onto despair of the past, only wanting to appreciate the moment while they have it. Unable to speak, Jess smiles to her husband and holds her forehead to his lips, unable to cover the pearly-white shine of her teeth behind her parted lips. “You love birds ready or what?” Jack exclaims as he and Lauren leave their room, the little baggage they need toted behind them. With Jess in his arms, John turns with a smile, “I think we’re as ready as we’ve ever been.” With a nod, Jack pats John on the shoulder as Jess returns to Amy, Jack keeping behind Lauren for a moment to speak to John. “It’s nice to see you smiling again, man” Jack whispers to John, patting him on the shoulder again as he follows Lauren down the stairs. “We ready?” John calls out, Emilio stood beside the dock, watching Jack and Lauren lead the Callis family down the steps of the home. “Almost, Heather and Ameil are on their way back right now” Emilio exclaims as Nessie and Clint climb aboard. Getting Amy situated aboard, John disembarks the vessel for a moment, returning to the yard above as Heather’s boat comes into view. Wrapping the jacket over his shoulder, John takes a moment while he has it to stand before the line of graves dug in memory of those they’ve lost. With a deep breath, John gets to his knee at the graves and reads aloud each name to himself, hanging his head in a moment of silence upon finishing. “I’m sorry what you died for us to see is being left like this” John addresses the dead, “I prefer to think you died so we could live, even if I sort of have to now to make peace with it all.” Looking over the horizon, John finally catches a glimpse of those within Heather’s vessel, three figures only proof that the efforts of Heather and Ameil proved fruitful. “It seems like our time together is running out” John explains, leaving a white flower atop the spot between every grave. “I choose to believe that whatever comes next is better than all of this, too” John concludes, “and when we’re done being scared of what we know nothing about, we’ll join you there.” With his final goodbyes uttered, John stands from his knee and descends the staircase as Heather, Ameil and Dawson dock. “Just in time, we were getting worried” Emilio explains, cracking a smile towards the trio, who all respond in varying ways. With a half-hearted smile returned by Heather, a nod of appreciation from Ameil and an unwelcoming frown from Dawson, Emilio stares at the last remaining survivor, John having his hands tucked in his pockets with a smile. “This is it” John exclaims, a shrug from Emilio preceding a fist bump as the final pair board the ship. “And we’re good to go, folks” Emilio exclaims, turning the key in the ignition and forcing the ship forward, the Connecticut coastline barely visible over the Long Island sound. | / Three Days Later / “Welcome to Rhode Island!” Emilio exclaims, arms stretched out as the group continues over the long-abandoned highway, the only things breathing for what seems like miles being the group themselves. “Check every car you pass, take what’s valuable, leave what’s not” Jess proclaims, Amy walking ahead of her, continuing forward by the side of Heather and Ameil. The cold coming over the group still wandering for direction only made worse with the lack of wind, everything remains quiet, an eery silence befalling the group as they march onwards. Peering into the windows of every vehicle she passes by, Nessie does a quick double take upon spotting something she likes the look of. Removing a road spike and a hammer from her bag, a light tap against the flat end of the jagged object causes the glass to shatter with relative quiet. All looking back towards the woman, the group watches Nessie remove map from the car’s passenger side door. “I think I found something special” Nessie exclaims, holding her finding in the air as the group finds a sense of comfort in direction. A small fire contained in the center of the truck stop parking lot, the group runs over the map, their fingers taking them down different networks of roads, all leading to various possibilities differing upon who you ask. Seated beside his family, John stays away from the frenzy of picking out a new destination of interest, a folded piece of paper in his hands providing more comfort to him. “Any chance we can take ninety-five into Canada?” John calls out, the eyes of those sat across the lot from him immediately falling upon him. Looking down, Nessie follows her own finger along the designated route before responding, “it can take us into New Brunswick.” Specifying his destination further, John inquires once more. “Can we follow the road into Nova Scotia?” John asks aloud, his new inquiry prompting another search on Nessie’s part. “There are a few roads we can take if we’ve got a few weeks on our hands, why?” Nessie replies, John folding the paper into a neat pocket square once more before tossing it towards the crew across from him. Unravelling the note, Nessie reads it aloud to the group before all eyes return to John again. “They’d been dropping these bricks over the last few weeks” John explains, his reference belonging to the paramotorist friend they had grown too comfortable with having around, “I was told not to share this until after we chose to leave.” “This is why we left?” Salem asks aloud, John refusing such a claim. “Leaving the island was a last resort, and one that I didn’t want to take” John clarifies, “but now that we have, I’ve got no reason to keep this back anymore.” The note, when read aloud, informs those that once inhabited the island to move north as quickly as they could, some form of organized government still established in Nova Scotia. “I know the goal is to take no chances, but this isn’t a stranger we’ve never met” John explains, “this is someone that clearly has enough supplies, and had already been looking out for us before we even knew better.” Interjecting, Amy voices her need to use the restroom, Heather immediately offering to take the young girl to the back, ensuring John and Jess’ focus remains unimpeded. “I’ll keep watch” Ameil calls out, feeling the need to keep a third party armed in the event the unknown environment makes an attempt at spooking them. Having spent the majority of the night sheepishly sat in the corner staring out through the window, Dawson’s mood immediately shifts when Ameil leaves, the three figures most responsible for bringing him along now being left on their lonesome. “I’ve gotta use the bathroom too, anyone else?” Dawson calls out, mostly ignored apart from sparse dismissals from the rest of the group, either out of annoyance or an outright disapproval. Shrugging his shoulders, Dawson groggily walks through the backdoor before his posture changes, the moody stance he once taken now turning into a motivated, hurried rush to catch up with the departing trio. “Using the bathroom?” Ameil asks aloud, Dawson immediately shaking his head, approaching Ameil as if he were on drugs, face widened and expression panicked. “What’s going on with you, man?” Ameil questions, Dawson placing his hand on the man’s shoulder as Ameil takes notice of his strange mannerisms. “You guys need to get the fuck out of here” Dawson exclaims, “both of you! Take the girl, go north, don’t come back!” “Are you alright, man?” Ameil asks, not taking Dawson seriously until the moment his friend removes a gun from his side, holding it at Ameil’s head. “Do what I’m telling you!” Dawson exclaims, Heather covering Amy’s mouth before the girl can let out a scream, Ameil’s eyes widened in shock as he watches the man he’s known his entire life turn on him in an instant. “This isn’t what you think it is” Dawson explains, “I told you I couldn’t leave Sun City, so I didn’t… I bought my ticket back in.” Head shaking as horror overcomes him, Ameil asks Dawson to explain what he’s done, only for the gun-wielding man to brush off the request, explaining that there’s no time to sit around and wait. “You saved my life by convincing me to come along” Dawson explains, “I’ll do what I can to save them, but I need you to let me save your lives now, too.” Having packed a small bag of supplies, Dawson tosses the pack to Heather, a small pocket map of the northeast and southern Canadian islands protruding from the front pocket. “If you guys go back inside, or if you tell them anything, we’ll all be killed… The girl, too” Dawson explains, “don’t let that happen.” Stepping away from Ameil, Dawson pulls the hammer down on his gun, prepared to shoot if it comes to it, the fear on Ameil’s face turning into sadness. “Why’d you do this, Dawson?” Ameil asks aloud, Dawson apologizing again before warning Ameil that time has run out. “Turn around and walk away right now, or I’ll shoot you dead right here” Dawson explains, his hand steadying as the barrel of the gun lines up directly with Ameil’s head. “Take your pick, brother” Dawson allows, watching Ameil turn to look back at Heather, the woman quickly nodding upon a second-long glance at Amy. “We can’t let anything happen to her” Heather quips, Ameil swallowing his pride and nodding back to Dawson, turning back to join with Heather and Amy, walking off with the gun still aimed at them. It isn’t until the moment the trio disappear from sight that Dawson lowers his weapon, the final sight of the three being a scared Amy looking back at him. With a sigh of relief, Dawson lowers his gun to his side, his walkie talkie blurting out the voice of a man on the other end. “You cut out there, please copy” Dawson responds, the unintelligible voice clearing upon the second attempt, Dawson taking a breath of relief upon it’s conclusion. | “If we make it to Nova Scotia, whatever happens up there is on you” Emilio jokes, his finger raised towards John, the man’s arm wrapped around his wife as Dawson walks back in, camouflaging with the back. “I take full responsibility, Mr. Captain” John replies, a salute offered to Emilio with a water-filled disposable cup. Laughter dying down, the group takes interest at Dawson, the man hunched over with his hand grasping at his own chest, struggling to breath. “What’s wrong?” John asks, the first to step up and offer assistance to the man, Emilio following in John’s lead as Dawson struggles onward. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?” John asks aloud, Dawson brushing off help, refusing assistance until he stumbles back, falling against the doors at the front of the store and collapsing onto the ground just outside. Hurrying to the man’s side on instinct, John rushes through the doors, Emilio following quickly thereafter as they kneel beside the man. “Em, go get Amy and the rest in the back” John directs, Emilio nodding to the man as the rest of the group slips onto the front lot one after another. “Dawson, I need you to talk to me, man” John explains, opening the man’s shirt and checking at his chest. “What’s going on?” Jess asks, John admitting that he has zero clue. “I have no clue what to look at, Dawson” John explains, “I need you try to tell me what hurts.” Unfurling his fingers, Dawson points to his lower body, his finger pressing against the skin just above the right of his pelvis. “Anyone have an idea of what’s over there?” John calls out, Katie the first to mention the appendix. “Anyone know how to perform an appendectomy?” John proceeds on, the lack of knowledge shared amongst the group leaving little hope. Hurrying around the side of the building, Emilio calls out for John, catching his breath as his face becomes overwhelmed with worry. “They’re not back there!” Emilio calls out, watching confusion come across John’s body. “What!?” John calls back, Emilio repeating the same statement as before. Immediately realizing what this means for his family, John halts the efforts to assist Dawson by reaching for his own gun and holding it to the sick man’s head. “What did you do to them?” John calls out, demanding to know why his daughter isn’t where she was supposed to be. Gasping for air, Dawson’s eyes jolt from one side to another, explaining to John with his hands that he wasn’t responsible. “Put your weapons down!” a voice calls out from afar, immediately prompting those within John’s group to take aim with the weapons they have upon their person. Still knelt over Dawson, John’s gun is aimed directly at the figure in the forefront of the incoming group, the man power behind them vastly outnumbering that of John’s own group. “You’re outnumbered and stand no chance” Seth exclaims, his own rifle aimed at John, “drop your weapons and we’ll do this in a way that lets you all get out of this alive.” Pushing himself to his feet, John keeps aim at Seth, the rest of his group, now stood in a line beside him, directed by their shot caller to lower their aim. “Smart man, you could be of use” Seth exclaims, his expression changing with the understanding of John’s worth. Though the man directed his group to lower their weapons, John remains steady in his own aim, refusing Seth’s suggestion to follow his own lead. “I don’t want you wiping us all out before I get the chance to put you down in return” John replies, the army behind Seth now revealing their numbers by surrounding the camp, guns still drawn. “You can shoot me, I can shoot you” Seth exclaims, his own rifle drawn at the same height as John’s, “make your decision.” His finger moving from the grip to the trigger, John’s hand grows steady, eyes narrowing upon the sight of Seth, prepared to shoot in a moment’s notice. “I’ll give you to the count of three to tell me why you followed us here” John explains, Seth smirking as his own hands steady upon his rifle. “One…” John calls aloud, watching the eyes of Seth straighten, the army leader’s refusal to respond acting as a means to call John’s bluff. After another ten seconds, John counts up to the next number, “two…” he says aloud, the flat of his thumb resting against the gun’s rear sight, Seth continuing to remain silent. A final ten seconds pass again, the final digit to be called aloud, only silence coming over the surrounded core of survivors. Noting John’s failure to stay on key, Emilio looks back to the man, “you didn’t say three” he explains, eyes widened and mouth agape as he looks on at John. Now realizing the silence, the rest of the group looks back to John as well, the man’s gun squeezed in his hand, now aimed at the ground by his side. With force, Dawson pulls away from John and takes a few steps back, allowing the defiant leader to stumble forward, blood pouring from a stab wound in his back. “Joh-” Jess starts, unable to finish the call for her husband as John limps around, blood beginning to run from his mouth, eyes widened at the sight of the cause. Stood with a menacing look, Dawson holds a bloody dagger in his hand, his feigned illness having faded in an instant, watching John stumble backwards. Stepping forward to reach out for the man, Emilio hears the army of readied weapons flood through the air just ahead, Seth’s militia refusing to allow Emilio any step out of place. Gasping for air, John looks away from Dawson, eyes widened as his head slowly turns towards his wife, frozen in shock at the sight. Choking on the blood, John staggers back again, quickly losing the strength to keep himself upright. “J-” John begins, unable to get the words out as his body grows increasingly limp, the only motion his wife makes being to let her jaw hang further open. “Jessica” John calls out in a faint breath, the gun in his right hand falling to the ground as his left holds itself up, reaching out for his wife as he collapses backwards, crashing into the ground whilst his group helplessly watches on. Stepping away from his militia, Seth approaches John as the man struggles to breath in between blood-filled gasps. Kicking the firearm away from John’s side and over to Dawson’s, Seth stares down at the fallen father, a smile coming over his face at the sight. “You don’t make it out this time, John” Seth mutters, standing over John, taking pleasure at his struggles. “You’ll pay just as they will” Seth concludes, John closing his eyes upon this reminder as the air becomes harder to come by. == Rise == From above, the waters appear a deep blue, the waves crashing into the shoreline appearing calm from above, the spray they mist the surviving island in appearing cool and welcoming. “I’m in bound, halfway to Martha’s Vineyard” a woman’s voice proclaims, the walkie clipped onto her sleeve responding with nothing but static for the moment. “Heard and understood” the voice on the other end replies, “let us know when you touch down and return to the air.”
Turning the walkie off, the woman adjusts course with the wind, following the push of nature’s barrier towards Rhode Island for the moment. Removing a brick from the bag, the woman ties a paper against the stone with an elastic band, holding the building block out by her side until the sight of something other than the shattering waves capture her intrigue. “Hello” the woman responds to the boat beneath her beginning to thrust forward, fighting the sea to stay level with her. “You shouldn’t be wasting your gas trying to find me, guys” the woman mutters to herself, tossing the brick to the ground, this time further in from the coastline than before. “I really hope you don’t find yourselves on the wrong end of these” the woman comforts herself in saying, untying the zipper of the bag on her back to remove an assortment of bulbous objects. “Jack, we’re gonna need to steady our push” Alicia exclaims, her face constantly being sprayed by the warm sea water as the boat collides with each passing wave. “We may be able to go faster than her, but if we keep hitting these waves, we’ll never keep up” Alicia explains again, the man assuring her of his efforts, however leaving little to show for them. Suddenly, the waters burst from beneath the surface a few yards behind the boat, one explosion followed immediately by another closer. After another few seconds, another pair of explosions emerge, threatening the ship’s inhabitants as each eruption only draws nearer. Within the next few seconds, a third pair of explosions unfold, Alicia noticing the spray of the water from the most recent explosion to find its way inside the boat. Looking up towards the sky, Alicia holds her hand over her face to block out the tremendous sunlight, disappointingly directing an order towards Jack she kicks herself for giving. “Stop! Slow it down and stop!” Alicia exclaims, the man looking up at the woman for a split second before following through with her command, pulling the boat to a complete stop within moments, the crushing waves they once rode into assisting in halting them further. “Were those grenades?” Jack calls out, Alicia guaranteeing them to be something at least closely resembling the weapons. Looking back into the heavens, Alicia notices something gently falling from the skies, fluttering through the air from their paramotoring friend above. “Glide a few yards out” Alicia proceeds, Jack starting the motor up once more and lightly pushing down on the gas. Preparing themselves beneath the falling debris, Alicia reaches out over the edge of the boat, catching the falling paper from the air, its contents laminated on the outside. “What’s it say?” Jack inquires, the woman’s head dropping into her arms as she extends the sheet of plastic-covered writing towards the man. Intrigued, the man takes the paper from the woman’s hands, its near-perfectly smooth surface gliding between his fingers. “You can’t follow me, that’s not allowed” the paper says, its message brief, yet clear. “This was a complete waste then…” Jack exclaims, flipping the note into the ocean and allowing it to float away. Jack asking what their remaining options dwindle down to, Alicia stares up at the figure sailing into the midday sun, a grimace on her face. “We’re not giving up that easily” Alicia exclaims, waving Jack away from the driver’s seat and taking over in his absence. “Where are we going?” the man asks, taking the seat Alicia left behind as the woman places her foot to the pedal, forcing the boat forward and continuing the chase. “Not doing what we’re told” Alicia replies, her free hand held over her eyes to block out the sun, the only figure in the sky she aims to focus on being the one desperately intent on covering her tracks. = Rise 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 3 onwards = “You’re gonna want to aim lower than you think you do” Ameil explains, the glass whiskey bottle Dawson fetched from the woods sat upon a charred tree trunk, Amy holding the gun by her nose with Ameil’s hands over her ears. “Fire!” Ameil exclaims, Amy pulling the trigger to send a bullet nowhere near the bottle, the soot from a tree a number of feet away being knocked away as the bullet imbeds the remnants of the wood. “Fear not, kid… You’ll get it at some point” Dawson explains, his face covered with a wet towel, water dripping from his nose as he scowls in pain. “Long night?” Heather inquires, sat at the opposite side of the table to that of Dawson, the man describing it as his first night sober since the island burned to a crisp. “You’ve been drunk every night for the last month?” Heather follows, the man chuckling until it hurts, confirming her suspicions. “Any chance you guys could fire a gun quietly?” Dawson asks, Ameil turning towards him as if to consider it, only to flat out refuse as he returns to adjusting the young girl’s aim. Getting on his knees, Ameil fixes himself up to be Amy’s height, staring down the side of the gun as the eye over it were his own, both hands directing those of Amy’s to a precise height, his voice calming enough to convince Amy to take in a deep breath before pulling the trigger. “Fire!” Ameil exclaims, the girl firing another shot into the depths of the forest, the bullet contacting audibly coming into contact with a tree stump somewhere out of sight. “You’re getting closer, which is progress whether you believe it or not” Ameil explains, returning to his knees and resting by the girl’s side, relieving the stress in her elbows and bending them outwards just slightly. His finger gliding the girl’s hair over her ear and her cheek away from the rear sight, Ameil pulls the girl’s arms back towards her body until the pose appears as that of a trained shooter. “What are the bets she makes it this time around?” Ameil calls out, the machete on his waistband being pressed between his fingers, pulling the piece away from his person to mimic the sliding of a credit card. “I’ll bet him whatever the first bottle of rum he pulls out of his bag is!” Heather proclaims, her faith being put into Amy, the girl smiling with pride upon the wager. “I’ll be the mean old grump that puts three bottles where my mouth suggests she misses” Dawson replies, Ameil gently patting the girl on the shoulders as if to turn the reigns over to her. A deep breath as taught before, Amy pulls the trigger once more, the bullet from her gun shattering the bottle before her to mixed reactions. “I’ll take those bottles now!” Heather exclaims joyfully, Dawson throwing his hand towards his tent, granting the woman permission to help herself. “You taking a celebration drink in defeat?” Ameil asks towards Dawson, the man prophetically refusing any such thing. “I’m already staring down the barrel of an angry mob’s wrath, I’ve gotta kick the drinking” Dawson replies, Ameil shrugging as he joins the man at the table. “Can I keep shooting?” Amy proceeds to ask, Ameil only reminding her the proper gun safety routine. “Finger off the trigger, gun facing down, only aim at the bottles!” the girl repeats in an effort to beat the man to the punch, Ameil giving the girl a thumbs up in surprise at her efforts. “What does her mother think of the shooting?” Dawson calls out, Heather returning with a collection of the same three brands of rum, “I know a few parents in the city that don’t like it.” Swallowing her pride, the woman unwraps the top to the first bottle and pours two cups, admitting that this is one of the lessons she doesn’t need Jess’ input in. “With everyone we’ve lost and what we’ve had to fight into, she’s right to wanna learn” Heather replies, clinking her glass against Ameil’s, “it’ll be unequivocally worth it if it happens to save her life someday.” Nodding in agreement, Dawson commends the woman for doing what’s right despite the mother’s best interests. “It’s not one of those things you’re okay with when it’s first brought up, that I know” Dawson confesses, “but once she learns how to do it properly, it’ll be a non-issue.” Leaning back in her seat, Heather looks back towards Amy, watching her steady her aim before placing her finger on the trigger, a single bullet shattering the new glass bottle on the first attempt. “Good” Heather calls out to the girl, Amy lowering her gun to her hip and removing her finger from the trigger. Looking back towards Dawson, Heather responds to his prior statement. “I don’t care when it does or doesn’t become a non-issue, I just care that it does” the woman explains, her eyes wandering back towards the girl as she sets another bottle up, “just as long as it keeps her alive.” | Stationed behind his desk, John reads over a piece of paper before the sound of footsteps in the hall just beyond his door begin appearing closer. Taking note of them, John pulls the drawer beside him out, tucking the paper beneath a set of books and closing it just as the door is pushed in. “Can we talk?” Jess asks, her hands pressed against the edges of the door while the man holds his hand towards one of the chairs. Locking the office entry behind her, Jess takes a seat before the man, John watching her enter the room and tuck her hair behind her ears. “It’s been a few days” Jess says in passing, John’s lips pressing together as he agrees. “It’s been five days, more specifically” John replies, “plenty of time for some journalist to start plotting how to rip apart Sun City from the inside, isn’t it?” Responding in kind, Jess attempts to change the conversation, her introductory banter being replaced by an apologetic front, the man holding onto every word that comes from her mouth. Wishing she had done things differently, Jess admits to not being able to make up for what she did wrong, her decisions having put everyone in a danger she hadn’t considered at the time. “We’ve failed our daughter, we’ve failed our marriage, we’ve failed each other” Jess explains, the man’s eyebrows lifting, his visual cue that they find common ground to agree upon. “But there’s always been family troubles” Jess assures, John’s eyes drifting away from the desk, firmly resting upon Jess’ own. “Everyone here is hurting, but that doesn’t mean everything that we’ve done right needs to disappear” Jess explains, “we can come back from this.” Taking in a deep breath, John allows it to release from his lungs in flutters, keeping tears held back as his fingers glide around the smooth circumference of his wedding ring. “I’ve never been a complete man, Jess” John explains, admitting to the woman he’s always existed as various different people all put together into one fusion. “I’ve been a father, a husband, a marine, a boss, an employee, everything” John explains, “I don’t know mentally if I’ve ever truly put it together.” Pushing himself from his seat, John struts away from his desk, walking around the sides and towards the front, leaning against the surface once he stands before Jess. “I stayed as a stay-at-home dad and husband because I thought that was how I was supposed to act” John explains, “and I’ve honestly never figured out how to be either the right way.” Sniffling, John brushes a tear away from his eye, admitting that he’s always known something wasn’t right in his head. “Anyone that wasn’t me got whomever I thought they were supposed to get” John explains, “I acted how I thought a friend should act, how a father should act, how a husband should act… But I was never truly any of those things.” Her fingers digging into his waistband, Jess pulls herself from the chair and up to face-level with John, the man explaining that he’s never truly been her husband, nor has he been Amy’s father. “I never knew how, I never figured it out, and I’d be lying if I said I ever will” John continues, his fingers pressing against the ring and slowly removing it from his finger, Jess watching on, keeping the tears from falling down her face as the golden symbol of their union glides off his fingertip. “And if I stood here and told you to be patient with me, I’d be having you wait until the day either of us took our last breath” John conveys, “I’d be doing you and our daughter a disservice.” Holding his wife’s hand out, John places his ring into her hand and tucks it within her palm, telling her to go to their daughter and do what he never could, nor what he would have ever been able to. Lip quivering, Jess tells John that there is a way forward for the three as a family, a statement John denies with as much displeasure as one could have. “I can’t hold you two back anymore, making you stay awake at night wondering if I’ll come back home” John explains, “I criticized you the other day for something that was no worse than everything I did disappearing on you every other night.” Her hands pressed against the man’s cheek, Jess pleads with John to realize what he’s saying before he goes to a place he can never recover from. Swallowing his emotions, John takes his wife’s hands and returns them to her lap, his hands now upon her face. “I’m not going to hold either of you back anymore” John explains, kissing his wife and telling her to go find Amy, “if there’s anything I can be sure a father or husband would do, it’s not make his family suffer any longer than they have to.” Pressing his head against his wife’s, John tells the woman to go find Amy and take her somewhere they won’t be forced to wait up for him any more. Only able to muster a whimpered “please” from her lips, Jess watches the man shake his head in refusal, telling the woman that he can’t live life knowing the effect it has on those he loves. | Crashing into the shore, Alicia quickly disembarks the vessel, dragging it along the sandy shores as Jack stumbles out himself, tripping over the creased side. “We should take the coastline now that we’re in Rhode Island” Jack suggests, “stay close to the sea if we get stuck out here when it gets cold, get the warmer air from the sea.” “Coast is too dangerous, it’ll be used to corner us if we attract attention from further up north” Alicia replies, stepping over loose firewood with her finger aimed towards the northeast. “We take the 138 through Jonestown and into Newport, head for Martha’s Vineyard from there” Alicia explains, Jack questioning the specific reasonings behind Martha’s Vineyard being the must-go. “I may not know much about paramotoring, but I know the best way north through the skies thanks to Salem” Alicia explains, “seeing their flight trajectory, I’d trust that they’re heading for Nova Scotia.” Putting his faith in the woman, Jack goes where he’s told to, following after the woman with caution, her lead taking them to the Rhode Island backroads, eyes set on uncovering the true endpoint of the paramotorist’s flightpath. Sunlight of the mid-morning day turning into the dusk of near night, the lack of a paramotoring presence is personified by the silent sky above, the cool bay waters beneath the Jamestown Bridge the only things singing into the pair’s ears. Each few feet capturing the attention of another undead, Alicia and Jack split responsibilities as if they were trimming hedges, an easy swipe allowing for them to ditch the bodies in the still waters below. “It really isn’t safe out here to walk the next two weeks on foot” Jack explains, readying his blade as another undead approaches. “Unfortunately, it’s even worse to do so over the next month” Alicia replies, “but when we get to the coast, we’ll see which direction they move and know where we’re heading.” Swinging his hatchet through the skull of the undead, Jack tells the woman that he’s more than aware of the plan, citing his concern being with the journey, and not the point. “We’ve lived to bring down three communities and lasted four years in the apocalypse” Jack explains, wiping the blood from the edge of his blade on his pant leg, “with how long it’s been, there’s no telling how dangerous the people fending for themselves out here will be.” Pushing forward regardless, Jack returns the jagged point of his weapon into another skull of the undead, the bridge beneath them feeling unsteady despite not being so. “I get sea legs around this kind of shit these days” Alicia exclaims, strolling behind Jack while he leads, her eyes glancing over the edge of the pre-outbreak structure to find the water just as far below as it always has been. After a few seconds, Alicia bumps into Jack, the man having stopped in his tracks, eyes looking around the sea of abandoned and rusting motor vehicles as if he’d discovered something. “No, we can’t drive these things if that was what you were gonna ask” Alicia states, the man shaking his head as he walks further into the middle of the pile. “All of these things are separated awkwardly” Jack points out, each vehicle spaced apart just enough to comfortably walk by. “Okay, people must have shoved the things apart to get through with a bike or something along those lines” Alicia replies, failing to see the trouble Jack seemingly takes intrigue in. “There’s just something about it, Alicia” Jack explains, fingers running over the chipped paint of the doors at thigh level, “something doesn’t seem human to me.” “Since I’d believe aliens did this before the weak, frail undead did…” Alicia begins, Jack looking back at her as she concludes, “I’m gonna go ahead and tell you to stop trusting your inclinations.” Continuing forward, Alicia bypasses the danger the man seems to be too far caught up on for his own good, calling for the man to follow along. Hesitant, Jack takes the woman up on her request, understanding there to be no point in figuring this mystery out on his own. | “We’ve got no leverage in the journal” Emilio exclaims, Ameil sat at the table beside the man and his running mate, a copy of the day’s journal being tossed from the candidate’s hand in anger. “What did you expect? The guy that runs the journal is your opponent, we were never gonna have fair representation!” Ameil exclaims, a headache beginning to take effect, “the best we’re going to get is time campaigning in the square and the debates. I’m sorry.” Returning to the window, Emilio glares out at the empty streets below, the image of his opponent taunting him from his own front yard stuck in his mind. “Look, I know you were Democrats, so you weren’t exactly used to going up against the odds” Ameil explains, Emilio still forcing himself to imagine Seth stood upon the car before him, giving him the petulant wink of a man understanding of the damage he stands to create. “But you need to look at this as ‘take advantage of the few chances you’re going to get’” Ameil explains, Emilio finally pulling himself away from the blinds, watching the man coach him into understanding that every little line matters. “Everyone here is on high alert, so they’ll be latching onto every single thing you say” Ameil explains, standing from his seat, fixing his shirt and adjusting his tie, “all you really have to convince them of is that you’re not Dawson or I.” “So where do we start first?” Franklin asks, Ameil walking across the room as the pair behind him begin looking towards the first steps. “There’s going to be a hall tomorrow night for the candidates that wish to run” Ameil replies, the bag of tea in his cup being dunked beneath the surface as he explains the dynamic of the venue. “You’re gonna have multiple candidates, so you’ll need to stand out” Ameil explains, “you need to assure the people you’re the opposition candidate.” “How do these things work then?” Emilio asks aloud, “if there’s gonna be a ‘stand out from the rest’ goal, that should mean that we’re gonna have competition… Who’s the competition?” With a sigh, Ameil explains that anyone running is going to be competition, making it a multiple-sided race. “The whole point is to stand out and make your name known to as many people as you can” Ameil replies, “standing on the car and calling out the current leadership was how Seth did that.” “So it wasn’t just a personal attack for the sake of it?” Franklin replies, an amused Ameil answering with the shake of his head. “While he may have some honesty in those words, the point was to garner as much traction as he could” Ameil explains, “voicing an opinion the voters you look to secure believe in is a way of digging your feet into the dirt.” The obvious question now voiced by the leading figure-candidate, Emilio ponders what the voter base they look to target stands for. “It’s really convoluted when you raise that question” Ameil replies, “there isn’t much of a typical voter base in the city.. Seth just got lucky that a big enough one appeared for him to look towards.” “So we’re going into an election for a city we’re still pretty blind to and we don’t even know what platform we’ll run on?” Franklin questions, Ameil looking to the man with apologetic eyes. “That’s just the way it works in Sun City, there’s nothing I’m able to do about it” Ameil responds, Emilio taking a breath towards the heavens, his mind immediately looking through its memories to throw out suggestions, his natural instinct as a politician to lump votes into groups by nature. “Anti-pirates, whatever you call them” Emilio exclaims, pointing out the group of people that were against sharing waters with the former Fisher’s Island residents. “What’s the makeup of those that wanted the threat of the pirates extinguished?” Emilio specifies, Ameil shrugging his shoulders at the unextraordinary suggestion. “No one liked them, it was just a matter of who wanted what out of them” Ameil replies, Emilio’s finger raised towards the man. “The people that wanted us to take them out all turned on Dawson when the point of the war was made out to be a full on failure” Ameil furthers, “those people are backing Seth at the moment.” Throwing his arms out, Emilio employs the oldest tactic in his political playbook, suggesting they get enough traction from Seth’s voters by proclaiming to be the ones responsible for ridding them of the waters. “It’s one thing for Seth to run on ‘we failed at war’” Emilio points out, “but it’s another to be the people that brought the pirates to justice… We’re those people!” Wincing, Ameil shakes his head nonchalantly, stepping away from the pair as Emilio notices something to be off. “What’s wrong with that plan?” Emilio inquires, Ameil looking back towards him, the look on his face suggesting a small wrench to be caught in the center of such plan. “The deepest, almost truest reason for why the war was a failure was because we brought nothing back” Ameil explains, “but we also didn’t alleviate every threat of outsiders.” Shaking his head, Emilio questions what the matter of that happens to be, the look on Ameil’s face turning before the man’s eyes, making it clear that there’s something Ameil knows that neither Emilio, nor Franklin, do. “There’s something you’re not telling us” Emilio continues, Ameil’s head tilted towards the floor despite his eyes staring towards Emilio, the man opposite him challenging him to admit the truth to them. “The pirates were a threat to us, yes, but the waters don’t solely belong to us now” Ameil replies, “while they may not be outright threats, they still share the waters with us… We just have a little more than they do.” With a sigh, Ameil places his tea on the counter beside him, Emilio and Franklin beginning to realize what the man is getting at. “We’re still not the only community along the coast” Ameil explains, Emilio’s head dropping, Franklin immediately demanding to be informed of the other. “There’s two more, other than us, in the Long Island Sound” Ameil replies, allowing Franklin’s temper to flare as the one-armed man demands to know why that would be withheld from them. “Because we found you first, we helped you first, and we didn’t wanna risk losing you to one of the other places!” Ameil exclaims, “you’re valuable to us, neither Dawson or myself wanted to risk letting you slip away… That’s why he made the deal with you that he did.” Side of his hand firmly placed against the table, Emilio tells the man that honesty would have been good enough for the group to commit to Sun City with on its own. “All you had to do was be upfront about this from the start, and it would have gone a hell of a lot further than lying to us!” Franklin shouts, his temper flaring as Emilio holds himself back, keeping his composure in check while his running mate goes off. “Enough!” Emilio shouts, the hand he held against the surface of the table now being stretched out, his palm pressed against Franklin’s peck, his assurance given to Franklin that things need to calm down before they can be righted. Cooling himself off, Franklin looks away from Ameil, glancing back to Emilio before turning away from both, walking to the opposite side of the room as Emilio looks back at his host. “We’ll square away one thing right now while we have the chance” Emilio explains, “we’ll run for your leadership despite your lies as long as you tell us every single thing that you, or your friend, have been keeping form us.” Ameil’s head hanging in shame, admitting that Emilio is completely justified in his request. “We should have trusted you, and I apologize on our behalf” Ameil explains, he and Emilio finally seeing eye-to-eye, “tell me what you want to know.” With a nod, Emilio continues to fight for his composure to remain intact, his hands pressing against the back of the chair he slides from beneath the table, returning to it as he once occupied minutes prior again. “We don’t need to get specific, just start from the top” Emilio replies, hand extended towards Ameil’s seat, prompting the man to take is as requested. Turning towards Franklin, Emilio locks eyes with the man, the steady stare getting the message across to a more mannered Franklin, who returns to the table and concludes the efforts by taking his seat back. With confidence, Emilio looks back to a prepared Ameil, a deep breath prior to his statement, “tell us what we need to know.” == Rise == His boot planted into the wet, rich soil, John removes his equipment from the boat and takes his first steps back onto the island, Katie following him soon after, two rifles in her possession, one over each shoulder. Climbing the steps to the higher ground, John welcomes in the night by running into Jess, the woman left standing there, waiting for his arrival after seeing his boat coming near.
“I have nothing to say to you” John says, his words the first to be aired, Katie quickly walking off from the pair, allowing the couple to hash things out amongst themselves. “John, I fucked up and that’s all that needs to be said” Jess explains, her efforts to explain herself being cut short by John, who laughs away her confessions and denies the woman’s last statement. “There is much more… so much more that needs to be said!” John replies, “you make a deal that can fail a man in such a way that he turns against us while your daughter is still living in his city!” Before she can choose to respond, the woman looks the man in the eyes as he turns his head over his shoulder, needing to correct the man first. “Our daughter” the woman replies, John swallowing his pride and shaking his head in refusal. “I was her father before all of this started, I’ve failed her since it did” John replies, his head hung as he returns to the cabin on the other side of the island, “I can’t claim to be her father when I haven’t been.” Continuing to walk in silence, the man eventually comes to a stop and turns around again, a fleeting thought entering his mind he feels the need to share with the woman. “But you haven’t been her mother since all of this started, either” John explains, resuming eye contact, “you’ve just been watching her, and now I hear she thinks so highly of Heather she’s going to her for help, and not you.” Walking away, John fails to remove himself from Jess that easily, the woman chasing after him, refusing to give into the notion that they have failed. “Neither of us has done what we should have for Amy, not you, not me!” Jess exclaims, “but parenting is a lot different in this world than it was back then… We’re doing what we can!” Angered, the man stops again, tossing his bags into the metal shed and slamming the door shut, confronting his wife once more. “It is different… It is… And we’ve both still failed in that regard!” John replies, “we have to teach Amy how to defend herself now, and we can’t even do that!” His teeth pushed together, John looks out at the water, the general direction of Sun City in his vision until his wife’s eyes take the distinction. “We’ve failed as parents, and now we’re failing as spouses” John explains, holding back the explosion of emotions he wishes to let out, his hands eagerly stoic by each side. “Heather is currently parenting our daughter better than we ever could, Jess” John explains, taking the woman by the shoulder, “we failed hard.” Walking around the woman, John makes for the house, the woman turning around in confusion, wanting to break down at the simple possibility such a meaningful conversation could end in such a pointless way. “So you’re just gonna give up?” the woman asks, the man hanging his head as he stops yet again, “you’re just gonna admit to failing and move on with your life as if it never even happened?” Turning his body, John looks at Jess, the woman reminding him that the point of admitting to failure is to redeem yourself from such failures, a reminder which prompts John to smile. “You know better than anyone else who I am” John explains, arms held out as the woman holds her face towards the ground, “there’s what I am at home, and there’s what I am in battle.” With a sigh, the man looks around the island, his eyes finding water in every direction he looks, the woman interrupting the man’s reminder with one of her own. “This doesn’t have to be a battlefield anymore, John” Jess explains, pointing to the safety the water locked landmass brings them, “this can be home again.” His lip bit, John shakes his head, “no, it can’t be” the man replies, taking the bitter pill as is needed, “this is, and will always be, a battlefield.” Turning away, John returns to the home, hands anxiously pressing against the latch to open the door between him and the sanctuary of what lies behind, leaving Jess stricken beneath the night. = Rise 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 3 onwards = Greeted by the burning flame of a line of tiki torches, Emilio and Franklin take the long walk through the scorched remnants of Fisher’s Island, burnt trees welcome them from each side as each step forces their boots to kick up ash. “I think we’re making the wrong decision” Emilio whispers, Franklin keeping his stare at the open field a few yards ahead. “We’re making the choice we need to” Franklin replies, a hammered Dawson awaiting them at a table ahead. “Gentlemen!” Dawson exclaims, a bottle of aging whiskey grasped tightly in his hand, waving through the air as the pair finally enter his makeshift den. “I see Jessica has wiped her dirty fingerprints all over someone else” Dawson exclaims, “I apologize greatly on her behalf.” Taking a seat at the table, Franklin initiates conversation, reminding the man that they aren’t seated across from each other to hold a playful chit chat. “You needed us for something, explain what we’re getting into” Franklin explains, an animated Dawson pouring Franklin a glass of whiskey and sliding it into the palm of his hands. “Thanks” Franklin exclaims as he empties the crafted cup into the soil, placing the empty remains back upon the carefully-constructed table and sliding it back towards his host. “He must be the one running for likeability” Dawson exclaims, his unsteady finger lifted towards Emilio, a smirk on his face as Franklin doubles down. “We didn’t come here to be friends, we’re giving you one chance here” Franklin explains, his arms crossing atop the table, “tell us what we’re doing or the deal is off completely. The ball is in your court.” Rolling his eyes, Dawson gives into the request to do business, tossing the bottle of liquor into the hands of one of his militia leaders and leaning forward. “I need you two to be a puppet” Dawson explains, watching Emilio’s head drop as Franklin’s face begins to sour, the man opposite them throwing his hands out. “You’ve completely fucked up my leadership!” Dawson exclaims, “you tarnished my name for a deal you couldn’t hold up your end of!” Aggravated, Emilio charges at the table, finger held out towards Dawson and presence felt, reminding the man of the equal effort put in. “You may have lost resources, but if you were competent at your job, you would have fixed this problem long before it happened!” Emilio exclaims, “if anything, changing our strategy like we did made us your soldiers as much as they are! So just as you can blame us for your failure, I can blame you for nearly getting me killed!” Meeting Emilio’s demeanor with a mirrored stance, Dawson stammers to his feet, finger pointed in Emilio’s face, telling the man that it was his choice to play hero. “You didn’t have to give yourself up!” Dawson argues, Emilio unable to hold back a smile, amused by the leaders’ delusions, “you played hero so your friends could live!” Swatting the man’s hand from his face, Emilio establishes superiority, the guards with guns taking aim at Emilio, the man uncaring of the tensions he’s raised, instead slapping Dawson with a dose of truth. “I gave myself up so your mission could go on!” Emilio exclaims, Dawson shaking his head in denial, “so as far as I am concerned, you owe me!” The pair staring each other down intensely, Dawson’s attempt at speaking is thwarted by the third person at the table. “We’ll do it” Franklin proclaims, Dawson looking down at the man in surprise while Emilio looks down in betrayal. “We’ll do it, but we’re gonna earn it fairly” Franklin explains, finally concluding the triage by taking a stance of his own, “drop your hat out of the race and let us do what we were gonna do before everything went to hell.” “You’ve got no guarantee that you’ll win” Dawson replies, Franklin refusing to put his belief in the hat of a corrupt system. “Choosing one candidate over another because they’re the lesser of two evils isn’t democracy, it’s illusion” Franklin replies, walking over to the guard with the bottle in his hand and unscrewing the cap. “If you turn democracy into illusion, we’ll confess that on our first day in power” Franklin explains, downing a swig from the bottle, “we won’t have that.” Uttering the man’s name, Emilio watches Franklin brush him aside, approaching Dawson and shoving the bottle back into his waiting arms. “He’s gonna run as the lead, I’ll run as the second in command... Like it would have been” Franklin suggests, Dawson looking at Emilio as Franklin continues, “but when we win, don’t, even for a moment, think you’ll own us.” With a deep breath, Franklin watches Dawson’s eyes drift back towards his, the Sun City shot-caller having to look up at the man in order to look him in the eyes. “Em’s right about you owing him, and this is how you’ll do it” Franklin explains, “you’ll have input, but you will not be the final say… We both get what we’re owed, and we both face the consequences of our decisions.” His hand held out, Franklin awaits for Dawson’s handshake, the pathetic example of a commander in chief reciprocating the gesture, understanding it to be more than he’ll get elsewhere. Beginning to walk off, Franklin takes a step back and removes the bottle from the man’s hand, tossing it into the depths of the burnt forest and suggesting he start sobering up. Walking after the man he arrived with, Emilio becomes anxious for answers, Franklin looking the man in the eyes and explaining that this outcome was the best they were going to get. “He’s a fucking mess and that city is on the verge of a war” Franklin explains, “if we can take control of the place, the most dangerous threat to it will no longer have any power over the one militia it can rely on to protect it.” Not settled with such an explanation, Emilio takes Franklin by the shoulder and pulls him around, asking him if he’s taken more than an impulsive second to consider what he just agreed to. “You just told a man that is delusional enough to think we ruined his reputation that we’ll take over, but let him play ball with us” Emilio explains, “do you really think he’s just gonna be fine with that?” “Of course I don’t, but that’s not the point” Franklin explains, “he needs us to get elected anyway, and once we do, he’s got nothing against us.” Putting his arm on the man’s shoulder, Franklin tells Emilio to dig deep into the life they lived before the outbreak began. “We were the most strategical Democrats in the entire election cycle for a reason!” Franklin recalls, Emilio shaking his head as if to suggest that to no longer matter, “stop playing checkers, and start conquering chess.” Having explained himself enough to be satisfied, Franklin continues on, Emilio left where he stands for a moment, considering the new options he’s been afforded. | “Chasing after John again?” Salem explains, cleaning the barrel of her rifle out as Katie enters the room, the bag of her gear being tossed onto a bed. “When am I not?” Katie humors, Salem watching the woman get situated as her hands work on autopilot, her attention being taken elsewhere. “Don’t you think that’s a little repetitive?” Salem proceeds to inquire, Katie rummaging through her bag, returning everything to where it belongs and refusing. “He’s going through a rough patch” Katie replies, her rifle being tossed aside the one she picked up from the mainland, “if anything, he needs anyone looking after him he can get.” Biting her lip, Salem nods to herself and returns her sight to the rifle in her lap, words resonating from her mouth still aimed at Katie. “Don’t you want something more than being John’s babysitter?” Salem wonders aloud, Katie looking back in confusion, Salem shrugging her shoulders at the response. “I’m just asking, you know what I do” Salem explains, Katie taking a seat on her bed, eyes pressed to the woman suggesting she find something more. “I don’t have anything against John, and I don’t want to push you into a decision you don’t need to make” Salem clarifies, “but the guy’s a mess every other month at this point, and I’m just worried he’s gonna get someone killed.” Katie turning her head away, Salem notices the response out of the corner of her eye, glancing down at the equipment laid out upon the bed, finally noticing the new firearm. “Where’d you get the new piece?” Salem asks, watching Katie’s head hang before answering her own question. “He’s not going to get me killed” Katie assures, the words she utters directed at Salem as much as they are at herself, Salem less convinced by the statement than Katie is. Continuing about her business in silence, Salem allows Katie to get unloaded in peace, John’s eyes and ears glancing down at the new rifle and nodding to herself. “He gave me a purpose” Katie asserts, Salem looking up at the woman as she addresses her once more, “he gave me something, a role of my own, when no one else had ever done that before.” Lifting her rifle from her lap and placing it beside her, Salem folds her hands on the space between her legs and levels with the woman. “I understand you have loyalties to him, Katie… But those loyalties shouldn’t get you killed” Salem explains, “if that gun came from where I think it did, I’m gonna be left worried for you at night.” Her mentor voicing the concerns she has, Katie is left hearing Salem out, the woman that taught her how to fire from long range now explaining that she did so because of the potential Katie has. “If Troy were still alive, I’d probably be trying to teach him this too” Salem explains, “but since he’s not, you’re the only person left here that I see nothing but potential in.” Propelling herself from her seat, Salem walks up to Katie, her protege left staring at the rifles on her bed. “I get not having anything of your own to be something you’re used to, Katie” Salem explains, moving the woman’s face towards hers, “don’t let your potential go to waste saving someone that can’t be saved.” With a pain-filled nod, Katie caves to the request, removing herself from the woman and taking a seat on her bed, asking for the barrel cleaner. With a frown, Salem casually walks towards her bed and hands Katie the cloth-covered wire, leaving the room to give Katie some space of her own. | Awoken by the sunlight peering through her blinds, Alicia groggily flips onto her back to find Franklin’s spot empty, the early bird likely already having started his day. Changing into a fresh pair of clothes, Alicia exits her room and glides down the staircase, her eyes attaching onto a door at the end of the home immediately. With a few eager steps, Alicia reaches the room’s entry and turns the knob, finding Jack and John awaiting for her within. “Why am I here?” John asks, sat upon a desk with his hands pressed against the wooden edge, Alicia taking a seat in the chair before him. “We think we have an answer for our impending troubles that doesn’t involve Sun City” Alicia explains, the man glancing towards Jack off to the side, eyes lifted once Jack nods, immediately pulling him in. Taking the man’s shift in demeanor as a sign of interest, Alicia persists, making quick mention of the paramotorist. “Wherever they’re going, they’re jumping from one side of the mainland to the other” Alicia explains, “so not only is there a reason for them to need travel quicker than some main road, but they’re in need of a refuel almost immediately after they reach the opposite coast.” “So you’re suggesting they just have a lot of gas to spare?” John proceeds, a gleeful Alicia responding otherwise. “I think they have a place with enough viable gasoline to travel from one point to another without worry” Alicia explains, “and the fact that they keep taking the same course over us suggests they’re going to and from two specific places.” Arms folded, John admits to thee line of reasoning, immediately looking to Jack for an opposing opinion. “There’s little to argue against the logic in Alicia’s statement” Jack admits, “all the gas refined before the outbreak is bad, so they’ve got some that was refined later… much later.” With a deep breath, John looks to Alicia to continue, the woman making it as simple to follow as anything. “The only way to operate and protect a refinery, let alone make trades for the product they make, is if there’s enough people to guard and work it” Alicia explains, “at the very least, they’ve got enough people to look after it safely.” Walking to the office door, John takes a peak outside before closing and locking it once more, returning to the pair and asking what they expect to get from this conversation. “We want you to greenlight an excursion that would let us go after them” Jack explains, “spare enough gas for us to follow them over water the next time they fly over.” Clarifying the need to find a trading partner, John inquires of the plan the group has to get back. “When we figure out where their final destination is, we’ll know where they keep stopping for gas” Alicia explains, “after that, we’ll set up a meeting and come back to you with a time and place.” Taking a seat behind the desk, John bathes in the sunlight peering through the window with his hands pressed against his lips, looking back to the pair on how many people they’ll be taking with them. “Lauren and Franklin, that’s it” Alicia replies, John’s head immediately shaking in refusal. “Franklin just went over to Dawson last night to join Emilio’s campaign in Sun City, he needs to be here” John replies, Alicia staring at Jack, the man with little to argue against. “We’ll go on our own then” Alicia replies, Jack glaring at Alicia in disappointment at first, only to quickly come around to the statement, John giving the greenlight. “We don’t have any talkies to give you, so the moment you’re gone, you’re as good as dead until you come back” John explains, his hands pressed against the surface of the desk, “if you don’t come back by the end of winter, we’ll consider you lost for good.” With a nod, Alicia and Jack agree to the terms, backing away from the room and leaving John alone within it, the man returning to his seat as the door shuts. Concerned over the risk he’s just given the go ahead for, the man turns his chair towards the window, the bright sunlight bathing the room in a warm glow, the rocky seas ahead visible in full from the view. | “Something still wrong with the carrots?” Nessie asks, walking onto the docks Emilio sits at the edge of, the man turning back to retort. “They’re still not growing” Emilio replies, the woman taking a seat beside him, waters continuing to crash into the shores as the forecast of the seas prepares for a choppy day. “Not much for the blue-collar jobs, huh?” Nessie mocks, the man sporting a disappointment-covering smile. “I was a Democrat before everything went to shit…” Emilio replies, Nessie’s head shaking as the man continues, “... Farming was never my biggest strength or voter base.” With a nod, the woman tucks her hands into her pockets as the first chilly day of the year sports its temperature in frost-bitten winds. Taking in the sights amidst a chorus of the winds brushing their hair over their face, Nessie cuts back into the conversation, the first to explain to Emilio that he’s terrible at hiding disappointment. “Something’s got you down, and I don’t think it’s the carrots” Nessie explains, her elbow brushing up against Emilio’s arm, “spill it.” Shaking his head, Emilio refuses to just use Nessie as a figure to vent frustration to, believing himself to need a manner in which he can supply that venting himself. “Well, I would trust you with something like that if my house wasn’t dented” Nessie humorously replies, Emilio meeting the humor with a response filled with his own, clarifying that he’s apologized multiple times. “I also don’t mind being the person you can go to for venting” Nessie adds, swallowing the cold-exterior she often gives off to confess wanting social interaction, “I like talking to you and think you’re cool.” With a smirk, Emilio nods to the woman, asking her if that’s how she truly feels. “I do, I think you’re a cool dude” Nessie reassures the man, her laughter paving way for more serious dialogue, “but I think you’re cool dude with a lot to get off his chest.” Staring at the man, Nessie watches Emilio sink his head in consideration, truly fighting with himself on the inside over whether it would be best to keep in, or unleash his inner conflictions. In an effort to bring light, Nessie removes an old lighter from her pockets and burns the edge of the wooden peer until it turns black. “Forest fires haven’t been our friends, Nessie” Emilio explains, the woman finishing her efforts the moment a burnt, black spot rests between them. “Whenever we’re both here, we can vent to each other about anything without fear” Nessie exclaims, “only here, nowhere other than right here.” In appreciation, the man thanks the woman for her efforts, insisting not to hold the woman down with a marriage of his worries. As his hand places itself against the dock, Emilio feels the woman hold him back from leaving, reminding him of who she came to the island with. “Since day one, I’ve been carrying a guy who refuses to kill any living thing” Nessie explains, “you confessing your greatest worries is going to add absolutely nothing to my full plate.” Once again patting the burnt spot between them, Nessie welcomes Emilio to return to his seat, a moment of careful consideration changing the man’s mind. Taking his seat back, Emilio looks at the woman, her eyes locked on his prompting the man to contemplate where to begin. | A knock at the door awakening them, Heather and Ameil leap from bed and dress in a hurry, Amy stirring into consciousness upon the second set of knocks. “Just a second!” Heather shouts, pulling her jeans over her hips as a third set of knocks persists, the woman tossing her shirt on as she walks for the door. Allowing those on the other side to enter, Alicia watches Emilio and Franklin take their first steps into the home, Emilio’s first inclination to point out the time. “Number one, it’s like two in the afternoon” Emilio exclaims, “number two, you can’t have us wait for him to put his penis away with a scorned public.” Finally, Emilio holds his hand towards Ameil, tripping over the waistband of his pants as he’s spoken to. “Number three, put your fucking penis away” Emilio proclaims, holding his hand over Amy’s eyes as Ameil falls. “This is Dawson’s second in command, huh?” Franklin jokes, petting Amy on the head as he walks by. “What’s going on? Where’s Jess?” Heather asks, the pair insisting a change of plans having put them in the forefront of danger. “We were a small part of that deal, too” Emilio admits, “so naturally, Jess gets yelled at by Dawson and her husband, and we take on saving an entire post-apocalyptic city… Because fair is fair.” As the pair get settled in, the home grows silent, the five occupants of the house anxiously awaiting the conversation of what comes next. As moments pass, the sound of people joining together in the street become noticeable to those within, chatter beyond the windows growing louder as time progresses, leaving those in the home to quietly wonder what must be going on to deliver such a reaction. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sun City!” a voice calls through a megaphone, the screeching sound alerting the public to the location unfolding right outside the home. In collective confusion, those within hurry for the windows, looking out into the street through the blinds, a figure stood atop a rundown vehicle addressing the mass of residents. “I’m Seth Havermeyer, and I work with the Sun City journal!” the man greets, Heather rolling her eyes until Ameil tries to pull away, the woman holding him back to ensure he does nothing stupid. “I know he’s on your nerves, and he’s on mine too” Heather explains, “but if we go out there and attack him, we only make him look better to all of them.” “As many of you had probably seen during yesterday’s protests, the second in command of this city took it upon himself to hit me in the face and run off like a coward!” Seth exclaims, the mob he’s amassed latching onto his every word. “So while our leader hides off in fear that he’ll have to answer for his failed promises, his second in command takes over and starts assaulting those that don’t agree with him!” Seth shouts, “throwing democracy aside in favor of running a dictatorship!” While the crowd chants for Dawson to pay for his inaction, Seth allows the masses to feast from his hand, declaring Dawson and Ameil to be examples of abuse of power taking place. “Sun city is supposed to be a community that brings back the world like it used to be!” Seth exclaims, his fist raised mightily in the air, “it seems as though they took that literally, pulling the corruption and suppression of the masses into the fold with it!” Eyes noticing those within the home peering at him from within, the man smirks, flashing a wink to those just out of sight, daring them to step into his world. “When the elections come around, I am going to run for the leadership of Sun City, and I will do so for the people!” Seth exclaims, “I will do so to ensure the democracy Sun City was built upon lives true!” Hitting the crowd with the famed buzzwords, Seth declares himself the formal opposition to Emilio and Franklin’s efforts, his fist still protruding upward, the first strike upon the end of Dawson’s reign of leadership being dealt. “Who will join me!?” Seth shouts, the question raised allowing those beneath him to hurry their fists into the skies, declaring their allegiance with the man capitalizing on public perception to jump the line, using this leverage to catapult himself up the ladder. “Great” the man mutters to himself, his eyes directed towards the group hidden behind the blinds, his stare letting them know that every path they now take leads them directly to him. With another wink, Seth makes his message known to those within, the voices hidden behind a thick pannel of glass accepting the fact that this task is not going to be an easy one to accomplish. == Rise == Feet pressing against the clumped dirt, John marches onto the mainland with a golf club in hand, his eyes targeting the undead one at a time as they stagger into view. Swinging the club like a baseball bat, John levels the undead, heads splitting into halves and skulls cracking beneath the weight of the cold, iron head.
Splatters of blood running down his formerly white shirt, John makes his way through the rundown town, venturing inland from the coast and continuing north. Reaching a long-abandoned suburb, John begins stepping onto the front steps of each house, continuing down the street in a pattern, house on the left, house on the right, move onto the next set. Tapping on the door, John waits for a few seconds before killing what approaches, and walking away from what doesn’t. Walking down one street, clearing out the undead occupying it and moving onto the next, John becomes a one-man, undead-clearing wrecking crew, his efforts made visible by the accumulation of bodies laid out in the streets beneath the early morning daylight. Tapping the head of the club against the door frame once more, John waits for a few moments at the top of the stairs before the silence waves him off, eyes latching onto the home across the street. Suddenly, the sound of something toppling over through the screen door now behind him takes his attention back, his eyes peering into the home through the limited view with intent. “You’d be an idiot to think I didn’t hear that” John calls out, finger and thumb pressing against the handle in a failed attempt to open the locked door. From within, a lone gunshot fires off from the upstairs, prompting John to pull back, hand upon the firearm on his hip, other grasping the club. “I’m not wanting any trouble from you, go on your way!” the woman shouts from within, John calling back that he’s looking for as much issue as the woman herself is. “I’m taking my frustration out on the undead around here, nothing more” John calls back, ‘that said, if you’re gonna shoot at me again, that’s all gonna change.” A moment of silence following, John awaits a response from within, the sound of light footsteps gradually making their way closer to him. “If you’re being honest, move onto the next house” the woman cries out, the voice coming from just behind cover at the top of the stairwell this time. “I will do so as long as you give me your word that you will not shoot” John replies, the woman hesitant to respond immediately. Noticing the indecision, John gives in, nodding to himself as he removes his backpack. “I’m not gonna force your hand, so I’ll leave you with this” the man calls out, removing two bottles of water and a pack of packaged food. “I’m gonna go on my way now” John exclaims, hand with the golf club held in the air whilst his opposite hand rests on his gun, slowly backing down the stairs and moving onto the next home. Now out of view from the woman’s perspective, John turns around and begins walking away, hearing the door he just left creek open quickly before slamming shut. With a nod, John adjusts the strap on his pack, moving on and looking back over his shoulder, the small amount of resources he left on the doorstep long gone. = Rise 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 3 onwards = “Why do they keep flying over us?” Amy inquires, glancing out of the view from the tower at the paramotorist above, Heather lacking answers just as the rest of the group. “I think they have a reason to, whatever that reason is” Heather replies, her train of thought broken by a pair of footsteps ascending the spiral staircase. “I hope I’m not interrupting” Ameil explains, Heather insisting he join them, honest to appreciate someone of her own age demographic for a change. “How’s everything at the city?” Heather asks, her question going unanswered at first as Amy quickly wonders allowed when they’ll be able to go back. “You like it at Sun City, Amy?” Ameil proceeds, Amy pointing out the candy stand as having sold her on the city as a whole. “I think the candy stand usually does it for everyone” Ameil replies, a smile on his face as he looks back up at Heather. “It’s… It’s not that great” Ameil replies, the woman watching the disappointment fill his face as the community he worked to build successfully tears itself apart from the inside right before his eyes. “I understand not wanting to see Dawson after he talked up a win he couldn’t deliver” Ameil explains, “but going as far as to send him death threats and picking fights with each other in the streets was something I didn’t see coming.” Hand wrapped around her neck, Heather apologizes for how things have turned, Ameil left reminding the woman that she had no hand in what went down. “You were in Sun City the entire time, you didn’t wage war and you didn’t start a wildfire” Ameil explains, “out of everything that has happened, you are to blame for none of it.” Nodding, Heather explains that she understands that, but doesn’t particularly agree. “This is my group, and while I may not be responsible… We are” Heather explains, Ameil holding his hand over her arm, telling the woman to look him in the eyes as he makes her a promise. “Sun City isn’t gone, it’s just hitting a rough patch” Ameil explains, “when the dust begins to settle, everything will go back to normal and we’ll rebuild what we had.” With a sigh, the woman gives into Ameil’s optimism, accepting the guarantees the man makes whilst storing all of her trust in him. “They’re just lost and afraid right now” Ameil explains, “if we can prove to them that we can rebuild like never before… It’ll all fix itself out over time.” With a nod, Heather places her own hand over Ameil’s, Amy including hers atop the pile for good measure. | Throwing his bedroom door open, Jess tosses Emilio his clothes, telling the man to get dressed before doing the same to Franklin, awaking Alicia in the process. As a few minutes pass, Jess walks onto the dock, looking out at the water in the time it takes Emilio and Franklin to catch up to her. “What’s going on?” Franklin asks, Emilio without care to open the conversation, already having noticed the anger within Jess’ greeting to be the driving factor of what is to come. “Dawson wants me to take over as the leader of Sun City now that he’s bound to be ousted” Jess explains, the woman watching Franklin and Emilio respond in their own displays of aggravation. “Not only am I faced with that, but my husband cant stand to look at me so much, that he’s now gone off on the mainland to kill all the undead in sight!” Jess exclaims, “so since this is all because of the deal we made, I feel like you should be roped in with me here.” Shrugging his shoulders, Franklin explains to Jess that they owe Dawson, nor Sun City anything. “We may have made a deal, but Dawson was the one that sent us out there to begin with” Franklin explains, “if anything, he had as much to do with starting this war as we did.” Unzipping his jacket, Emilio explains to Franklin that none of that is the point, suggesting the opinion that Dawson may simply be acting out on fear. “He’s been ousted from the community he built and the entire city is starting to fight each other” Emilio explains, “this is just like what was happening in the States before it all fell… It spells doom he wants to avoid.” Hands held out, Jess reminds Emilio that everyone in this collective trio understands that, but making it known that none of it matters. “The only way we survive here is with Sun City’s help” Jess explains, “we don’t have food to last the winter, gas to power the boats, or parts to fix the aquifer if it were to break down” Jess exclaims, “from where I stand, we fuck them over and we fuck ourselves over.” With a sigh, Franklin turns his attitude towards Jess into one of impatience. “If he told you to be the leader, be the leader!” Franklin explains, “what’s the point of debating this if there’s no choice to make?” With a grimace, Jess reminds the pair that they were as guilty in orchestrating this deal as she was, ensuring that they need to make up for the lack of presence they left by standing in the shadows. Looking at the woman in concern, Emilio asks the woman to be more specific in her demands if she wants to get anywhere with the pair. Tucking her hands into her pockets, Jess stares down both men, reminding them of what they were in the midst of before the world broke down. Rolling his eyes, Emilio takes a seat upon a cut wooden post whilst Franklin turns around to walk away. “We’re not running for their leadership, Jess” Emilio replies, the woman approaching him with the reminder that they don’t have a choice. “Even if I did run, someone would need to be there to be my number two” Jess explains, “so why not the pair that were running for govern literally until the moment everything fell apart?” Returning to the woman, Franklin tells the woman that there are a plentiful amount of reasons. “For a start, the democrats put us together, he would have run with Bill if he could” Franklin replies, “and to follow, because we were losing, because we played the race card, and because we were democrats!” Arms extended, Jess asks who would care about where they were back then anymore. “It’s been four years, how many of those people truly give a shit, or even remember any of that?” Jess proceeds to inquire, Emilio reminding the woman that all political ground is ground to gain. “No one can predict who will join the race, no one” Emilio explains, “someone that doesn’t like us joins in and points this out, it’ll awaken some memories long forgotten.” Her head shaking, Jess tells the man that she doesn’t care which memories do or don’t return. “Right now, I have a marriage to fix, so all of this is gonna be up to you” Jess explains, “either stick around to make nice with Sun City, or fuck off and run away from your problems again.” Walking off, Jess catches the attention of a disrespected Emilio, who turns around and calls her back without hesitation. “I’m done here, you figure this shit out yourselves!” Jess shouts back, the man placing his foot in the ground, refusing to leave the conversation unfinished. “Get back here you bitch!” Emilio shouts, the woman stopping in her place upon hearing the out-of-character response by the man, giving into his request. “For a start, you were gonna leave in the middle of the night like a coward, while I did so to John’s face” Emilio explains, “and to conclude, disrespect me or my husband’s memory again, and I’ll lay you out where you stand, am I understood?” A dark side of the man intended to be kept hidden, Emilio allows his truest of authoritarian instincts to reveal themselves, laying the law down to a woman perhaps as broken in the moment as he himself is. With a nod, Jess turns around and walks away more cautious this time, descension unfolding as Emilio watches the woman walk off, concern in the eyes of Franklin as he plays spectator to the events as they unfold. | Making it to a barn, John begins tapping his club upon the wooden doors, intending to wait for the undead possibly behind to make the journey, only for the heavy weight of undead within to begin pressing their collective weight against the doors almost immediately. “We’ve got a collection growing here, I see” John mutters beneath his breath, hand pressing against the wooden handle keeping the double doors from releasing the undead amongst the town. With a deep breath, John throws the wooden hatch open and allows the swarm of undead to fill the lot, John taking his club to the deceased one after another. First shot never intending to kill them, the second, third and fourth shots he takes on any one undead become a method of venting, John continuing to assault the overpowering horde without issue. “What are you doing!?” a voice calls out from the street, John shouting back that there don’t appear to be any people worth keeping the undead locked away from. “If I’m looking for pinatas, I found myself a gold mine!” the man exclaims, lifting his club into the air before a bullet rips through the head of the undead in front of him, ending the attempt. “I left you alone, please do the same” John exclaims, lifting his club into the air before the same fate is met. “You didn’t leave me to die, so neither am I to you” the woman replies, hurrying into the lot to help John take on the undead. “I’m really starting to regret leaving you on your own, ma’am” John replies, his displeasure left poorly hidden. “I don’t care, you’re not where you should be” the woman exclaims, confusing John in the moment as she continues ripping into the swarm. “What does that mean?” John asks, the woman continuing to put down the undead, one bullet after another spent on sparing the man his life. “You may be self-destructive, but you’re not a survivor” the woman replies, “you came from below, you were in the water before… This isn’t the water.” Continuing on, John returns to taking swings at the undead until the fault in the woman’s rifle begins to become noticeable. “What’s wrong?” the man asks, the woman left struggling to fix her gun as the undead continue closing in. “My gun’s jammed!” the woman shouts, continuing to step away from the swarm as it grows closer before ultimately giving up on her measures. Reaching for the hatchet on her hip, the woman struggles to retrieve the weapon from its place, the blade of the tool refusing to budge while the undead begins to lunge harder. The distance being closed in more with each step, the woman watches the undead come within inches of her before a lone bullet rips through the side of its head. His gun in hand, John keeps his aim at the second reanimated corpse and takes another shot, buying the woman much needed time. Her thanks offered, the woman frees her weapon and continues laying into the undead, a pile beginning to accumulate in the lot as the numbers dwindle. Used to more of the same, the woman continues to hack away at the undead, her weapon hurling through the air and splitting skulls one after another before it too, gets stuck. Pulling away from the jaw of another undead, the woman rips her weapon out of the head of the corpse and takes out the impending threat as the swarm dwindles. Their efforts finally paying off, the pair reach the end of the line, the barn completely cleared, and a field of bodies left to rot beneath the increasingly hot afternoon sun of a dying summer. “Thanks for the-” John replies, his head turning towards the woman while she hunches over in an effort to catch her breath. Before his statement can be finished, John notices the woman’s arm, the imprint of a bite presented over her bicep before she can notice. Taking the man’s silence to be representative of something, the woman glances at her arm before her entire mood shifts. Collapsing back, the woman takes a seat in the dirt, staring up at the summer sky in defeat, head shaking as the years of fighting to survive culminate in such an untimely fate. “Fuck” the woman exclaims to herself, John’s hand wiping the sweat from his brow as he realizes what his emotions helped allow play out, his stomach turning upon the realization. | Throwing clothes into drawers and making up the bed, Jack is interrupted by a wandering Alicia, who takes a seat upon the bed he was just in the midst of making to chat. “Is there something I can help you with, Alicia?” Jack asks, his question falling on deaf ears when Alicia asks a question of her own, one of significantly more value in answering. “Do you know of any oil refineries around here?” the woman proceeds, Jack left with a puzzled look on his face. “The places where they make gasoline?” Jack specifies, admitting a lack of such knowledge much to Alicia’s disappointment. “Why are you asking?” Jack proceeds to inquire, “If we’re being honest, you could pull off an ‘oil queen’ pretty well, but that doesn’t tell me much.” Laying back on the bed, the woman pats the spot next to her, sending Jack the signal he needs to notice the beginning of a new conversation. “How often have you seen that paramotorist flying over us?” Alicia asks, the man explaining that it’s happened at least once every day since they began calling the island home. “Why do you ask?” Jack proceeds, watching the woman glance out through his bedroom window before explaining that something feels off. “Sun City said all the gas just went bad last week, and that they’ve got nothing left” Alicia explains, “I don’t think whoever’s flying above us has a reason to worry about that with how often they’ve been flying.” Opening his mouth to respond, Jack thinks twice and takes a moment to consider the options, Alicia left trying to fill his mind with as many points to back her statements as she can think of. “I’m not convinced they’d have access to a refinery all by themself, but I bet they knows of a place that does” Alicia exclaims, “and if Sun City falls like it seems it will, we’d be well off finding where they’re getting that gas from.” Hand pressed to his face, Jack looks towards Alicia for an explanation for any other possibilities. “What if there is no big settlement?” Jack asks, challenging the woman’s thought as the opposition, “what happens if you’re wrong?” Head shaking, Alicia refuses the possibility of such a thing. “Even if they’re flying out from Matha’s Vineyard, they’re spending too much gas to make it down the eastern coast without at least one pit stop” the woman explains, “they’re stopping probably multiple times to refill and doing the same journey all over again.” With a sigh, Jack considers opposing arguments until his face is pulled towards Alicia’s, the woman guaranteeing him that whomever is flying above has access to useable fuel. “If we can find where they’re getting that fuel from, we can establish a partner to trade with” Alicia explains, Jack struggling to find an argument against an idea with as much to offer the camp as they would wish for, giving into the temptation of such an intriguing suggestion. “How are we gonna sell this then?” Jack asks, “if we’re gonna go after wherever they’re going, we have to run this by John first.” With a nod, the woman encourages the man to think simple, nothing else other than the promise of what lies at stake being needed to seel the man on the journey. “There’s a part of me that believes John is already tempted by it, he has to be at this point” Alicia explains, “all he needs to know right now is that someone else is too.” Placing his lips together, Jack nods to himself as Lauren and Franklin walk into the room, inquiring about the secretive conversation that seems to be taking place. “Come in and close the door” Alicia replies, making room on the mattress for two more. | Walking through the crowded streets of Sun City, the calls for and against Dawson’s leadership reign out, guards covering the length of streets to keep the arguing from turning sour. “This isn’t good” Heather mutters, holding Amy in her arms as Ameil guides them through a chorus of shared screaming and cheering. “Tell Dawson that we’re coming for him!” one protestor shouts, their ager directed at Ameil with no one else to take the brunt of it. “Just ignore them, they’re no threat to you” Ameil explains, “they don’t like me, but they want me to be the message carrier to Dawson… I didn’t sign up to do that.” With a deep breath, Heather continues following in the man’s footsteps, one half of the crowd growing angrier the longer they’re ignored, the other half shouting insults towards the others in belief that Ameil doesn’t deserve the criticism his brother should be getting. “Is this your girlfriend, Ameil?” a man shouts from the crowd, Ameil brushing off the comment despite Heather’s eyes turning towards the source, a gesture the man notices. “Tell your boyfriend he’s in trouble!” the man shouts from the crowd, Heather diverting her gaze from the man and joining Ameil’s response, something that triggers the concealed anger in the man’s response. “You should take John’s kid back to him you thief!” the man proceeds to shout, an insult that Heather shoots back towards instinctively, a sudden turn around catching the attention of both the man and Ameil beside her. “What did you just say?” Heather asks, continuing to hold Amy in her arms while Ameil walks after her, trying to keep her from interacting with the man in any way. “You’re just giving him what he wants, Heather” Ameil explains, the woman brushing off the suggestions in favor of confronting the man. “Repeat what you just said, but do it to my face this time!” Heather exclaims, the man holding his hands up in a sign of surrender when confront face to face. “I guess I should introduce myself” the man explains, dropping one hand from beside his head and holding it out for a handshake, “Seth Havermeyer, I write for the Sun City journal.” Her eyes narrowing, Heather repeats the man’s introduction in a mocking tone, antagonizing the figure and telling him to mind his business before beginning to walk away. “I’ll keep my nose out of it then!” Seth replies, returning his hands into the air in a snarky, mocking fashion, “just don’t let pretty boy here get shot on your watch!” Turning around, Heather approaches the man angrily, holding Amy to the side and raising her hand, a gesture immediately met with defense by Seth. In an act that riles the crowd up, Seth pulls his head back and sends a line of spit towards Heather, his aim thrown off by the quick dodge, letting the spit hit Amy instead. Disgusted by the action, Ameil goes into a rage and defensively punches Seth in the face, an action only further putting the crowd into a frenzy. Feeling threatened, the side in the camp against Ameil and anyone associated with Dawson charge their opposite, which fight back as one would only expect. Issues flying well out of hand, Ameil, Heather and Amy are led by guards through a series of backroads, all directing the trio back towards the center of town, away from whatever outcome the fighting produces. | “What are you doing out here?” Katie asks, her voice catching John by surprise, his immediate question to ask how she found him. “I follow you everywhere, it’s kind of my job” Katie explains, John immediately proceeding to question how she managed to do such a thing. “I took the second boat, did you stow away in a box somewhere?” John asks, the woman reminding John that the gulf waters are calm enough to swim through during the day. “I’ve followed you where you’ve gone since you told me to at the New World Order” Katie explains, “I appreciate you giving me a reason to go on a workout to do so, though.” Her eyes averting towards the woman, Katie inquires about the sight she’s becoming witness to. His golf club pointing in the direction of the woman, John fights off the urge to speak in a somber tone. Solemnly introducing herself as Taya, the woman allows John to do the rest, his words falling flat of explaining anything other than he got her bit. “And you didn’t think to cut the arm off?” Katie wonders, the woman responding that she’s right handed, therefor useless without it. “Not one to adapt, I see” Katie jokes, the woman taking offense momentarily before John puts an end to the arguing before it can begin. “So, what now?” Katie asks, John explaining that he’s already volunteered to put her down when she’s ready for it. “No, I’m not asking about how you’re gonna approach this” Katie replies, confusing John, “I’m asking how long you’ll be holding this over your own head before you snap out of it and get off your ass again.” “What do you mean?” John asks, Katie chuckling as if the man were joking, refusing to allow John to go without being aware of his own traits. “You don’t take people dying too well” Katie responds, John hanging his head and asking if one can blame him. “If you were just another member of the group, no I could not” Katie replies, “but you’re the leader, and any emotion that you feel is one everyone else feels by proxy.” Looking back up at the woman, John nods in agreement, understanding the point Katie’s trying to make. “I’m not saying you can’t grieve, but I am saying that you can’t let this consume you” Katie explains, “people die and it sucks, but we get over it and we move on.” Wiping the droplets of water from her machete, Katie tells the man that nothing they’ve accomplished would have been possible if everyone sat on their hands grieving all day. “Whether it was because of you or something else, she was gonna die someday” Katie explains, “it’s as true now as it was before all of this shit went down… We all die, it’s only a matter of when.” Walking up to the man, Katie directs his eyes into hers, intent on ensuring he takes in every word she says as gospel. “You can’t blame yourself for this and continue to be the leader” Katie explains, “I know you have a lot on your plate, but you need to finish it if you’re gonna be in charge.” Pressing his tongue against the inside of his mouth, John nods to Katie, agreeing with every word she’s said. “We’re all flawed, you’re no different” Katie explains, “but you need to start learning how to deal with it in ways that don’t get you or someone else hurt… This should be another lesson to learn.” Looking away from the woman, John glances at Taya, who is left to serve as the third wheel of the conversation in her final moments in life. Looking back in an aggravated fashion, Taya takes herself up from her seat and sits on her knees, John removing the gun from his belt loop until Taya suggests otherwise. “Don’t waste your bullets on me, this is just out of mercy” Taya explains, her finger lifting towards the golf club, “don’t waste your ammo on a mercy killing.” Refusing to allow the man to refuse, Taya looks at Katie, giving the woman the signal to strip John of the gun, all that’s left in his hand being the golf club. “Take your best swing, and do it quietly” Taya exclaims, “I want it to be over quick, but I don’t wanna know it’s coming.” Swallowing his pride, John does as instructed, holding the golf club by his side as Taya makes one final request. “When you go-” Taya begins, her statement cut off with John cutting the goodbyes short, laying the club into the back of the woman’s head, immediately knocking her into the dirt, unconscious and still breathing. “You could have let her finish” Katie says, her words holding no grievance as the man takes in a few deep breaths. “She didn’t wanna see it coming” John explains, adjusting his stance to stand over the woman, “there wasn’t any better way than that.” Finishing the job, John crushes the woman’s skull with the club an exceeding number of times than necessary before stopping, the brains of the woman spilled upon the dirt like an animal. A deranged, thousand-yard stare on his face, John keeps his eyes upon the woman he not only murdered, but sentenced to death, refusing to allow himself a future chance to forget the things he had done that day. Looking away, Katie allows the man to take in the sights, watching as he picks up the woman’s rifle from the ground and hands it to the woman. Silent, John walks past Katie, continuing the way he came whilst the woman remains stood there, watching the man walk off beneath the sunlight, his victim left buried in the open, left to rot with the undead. Fearing what will come of this, Katie stands frozen for another few moments before beginning after John again, throwing the rifle over her shoulder and making for the boat. == Rise == / One Month after the Fight /
“Whatcha staring at?” Angela asks, joining John in the lighthouse as he rests his elbows on the windowsill. “The second part of the before and after” John replies, dissatisfied at the sight of the former Fishers Island, now relegated to nothing more than a burial ground covered in blackened trees and soot-covered land. “You did what you had to do” Angela replies, John immediately placing his flag in the corner of refusal. “What I had to do was kill that solar equipment” John replies, “but leave it to Dawson to go ahead and convince me otherwise.” Handing the man a mug, Angela takes in a sigh of relief, looking out at the calm waters and soothing waves, John taking notice of her interest. “They wont come back any stronger than they once were” Angela replies, John left shaking his head as she continues, “we took care of them once, we’ll do it again. They weren’t anything important.” “They damn near got us all killed” John replies, Angela staring back at the man, her eyes squinting as John notices her keeping something from him. “Technically if any of us had died, it would have been you that did it” Angela responds when called upon, “but we’re all still here, and we’ve made ourselves a home.” Holding his disappointment at bay, John takes a drink while Angela smiles at the sights before her. “What’s got you liking the view so much?” John asks, the eagerness of the woman to enjoy the sights afforded to her appearing differently than it had most. “Tyler once told me that it was a rare sight to see such a nice view once everything went down” Angela replies, “I couldn’t see it then, but I do now.” Hanging his head, John tells the woman that they’ll grow to miss other things the longer time passes. “It’s been strange not hearing car motors or planes flying overhead anymore” John continues, looking out towards Sun City, the burned forest before them paling in comparison, “we’ll probably never get those again.” “Let’s not forget about our little paramotor friend” Salem interjects as she ascends to the top of the tower, “wherever they keep going, we’re a pretty favorable flight path.” Welcoming the woman to the conversation, John inquires about any further information regarding them. “I’ve got nothing to add” Salem replies, “but wherever they keep going, it doesn’t look like they’re running into much trouble.” Her tongue pressing against the corner of her lip, Salem stares out at the island in front of them, a stare John takes easy notice of. “What’s on your mind, Salem?” John asks, the woman shaking her head in disapproval as she removes a notebook from her backpack, tossing it into John’s lap. “We may not have to worry about the undead out here, but we might have something else to fear” Salem explains, “I’d ask Dawson about the frequency of coastal storms the next you see him.” Opening the pages of the book, John reads the weather reports of the land’s previous owner, detailing everything people and mother nature herself has thrown at it. “It’s getting colder out here fast, and we’re too late on the season for planting crops” Salem explains, “not only are we gonna have to swallow our pride and start looking to Sun City for supplies, but we’re gonna have to prepare for anything else than can pop up.” “How much can we provide here before the first snow hits?” John proceeds, frustrated when Salem suggests a number as good as nothing at all. “Couple that with the sound freezing out too far to get boats on the water, the aquifer freezing over, no turbine and we’ve got ourselves a shit show” Salem exclaims, the barrage of issues enough to bring John’s hand to his head and the book to the windowsill. Holding the notebook out, John directs Salem to take in everyone’s food and water usage over the course of the last month and return it to him when done. As instructed, Salem leaves the tower to Angela and John, the man looking out at the sea with his head hung. “This on top of worrying over these fuckers showing up again and this place suddenly turns my hairs gray” John exclaims, the woman left with little response other than the reminder of what it took to get there. “That’s exactly why I’m not afraid to go gray, just afraid of losing people before I do” John replies, removing his coat from the chair he once sat upon and tossing it over his shoulders. “Let Emilio know that I’m heading out to see Dawson and Ameil” John exclaims, Angela explaining that he’s likely to know once he notices the boat missing. Stepping over the harsh gravel path to the coastline, John stops in his tracks while the motor above begins whirring again. Spreading his arms out, John shakes his head as if to mock the figure above, continuing forward before noticing something drop from the sky. Noticing a landing point, John backs away from the general area while it plummets through the air, crashing into the pebble-covered coastline with a thud. Glancing back up, John watches the figure soar overhead, continuing north before approaching the stone. Tied to the brick by an elastic band, a note is left for John’s eyes, the figure leaving the area as per usual while he reads. “You found the island vacant for a reason, more maintenance than it’s worth, leave while you still can, it’s not too late” the writing reads, the figure continuing on as if nothing ever happened while John stares back between them and Sun City. = Rise 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 3 onwards = Stood with his hands on his hips, Emilio stares eagerly at the stems poking out from the ground, his patch of farmland left nearly as fruitless as it was the month prior. Suddenly, the anger inside of the man builds to a point where it can no longer be contained, his hand balling up into a fist and laying into the metal sheetwork of the shed behind him. Shouting expletives in anger, Emilio kicks rocks away from the edge of the empty patch as the shed door opens. “Did my house do something to you?” Nessie asks, poking her head out of the opening as Emilio waves her off. “Nothing against you, my apologies” Emilio replies, his hat removed from his head and tossed across the land. “It seems like you’ve got some things to work through” Nessie exclaims, Emilio coming to a stop with a smile, hands placed on his hips again as he turns around to amuse her. “We’ve known each other for what? A month?” Emilio replies, “how much about me do you really think you know?” Turning away from the man, Nessie looks at the side of her home, pushed in by the force of the man challenging her thought. “You dented my house, I think that counts for something” Nessie replies, Emilio chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. “I’m fine Vanessa, you worry about yourself” Emilio responds, the woman calling out a correction, prompting him to turn around again. “It’s Nessie, like the monster from the lake?” the woman shouts back, Emilio correcting himself and moving on with his day. “What’s going on with you?” Katie asks, walking by Emilio as he drifts away from his farm. “I fucking hate those carrots” Emilio responds, spitting on the ground as he walks by, leaving Katie looking at him with a puzzled stare. | Hand pressing out against the double doors, John enters the Sun City tavern with his eyes drifting from one side of the room to the other. Catching a glimpse of the long blonde locks, John’s attention is captured, his wife left on her own at the bar. “Any idea where I can get my hands on Dawson for a quick second?” John asks, Jess holding as much uncertainty as John does, halfway through her first bottle of beer in the day. “Dude’s been busy, what more can you expect?” Jess proceeds to state, “I think I’ve said more words to this beer in the last hour than I have to Dawson or Ameil in the last month.” Overhearing the name as he walked by, Clint is left handing John a bottle and voicing his own opinion. “I don’t think Dawson’s gonna be taking any inquiries in until after he loses the election” the man replies, “dude’s under enough pressure to resign as it is.” “Is it that bad?” John proceeds, Jess chuckling to herself mid sip as Clint looks at the man as if he were the dumbest man alive. “Go to war for land you let burn down and resources it doesn’t have, all before you announce that we’re running low on gas, and you’ll get yourself killed before long!” Clint replies, pointing around the tavern to the sea of disappointed faces. “It wasn’t on him the propane blew” John mutters, Clint reminding the man that it doesn’t matter as long as it did. “He sent you out there without backup from what I’ve heard” Clint continues to explain, “one way or another, he made that happen.” Hanging his head, John pops the cap off the bottle with ease, downing a quarter of the liquor as Jess watches on in surprise. “You can really tell which of us was in the military and which of us worked behind a desk when you’ve got one of those” Jess jokes, John suggesting any man to wear the weight of costing a man his livelihood would be in need of a drink. “You can’t hold his decision against yourself, John” Jess replies, “just like Clint said, he dug his grave in a way and now it’s time to lay in it.” With a sigh, John accepts his wife’s statements with the truth they bring, ultimately still unable to think of anything other than the ways in which he could have done things differently. Hand on the man’s shoulder, Jess looks John in the eyes, telling him to stop holding everyone else’s wrong doings against himself. “He sent you in there to die, he got what was coming to him” Jess explains, “one way or another, he chose what he chose, and now he’s gotta deal with that.” | “Where’s mom and dad?” Amy asks, Heather tossing her makeshift toys into a bin before wheeling them away beneath a desk. “Mom and Dad are back in the city to talk to Dawson” Heather replies, chuckling when Amy points out her mother being gone since the day prior. “Yes, it seems like Dawson’s been a busy guy” Heather responds, explaining to the girl that things aren’t going to be easy real soon. Her lips puckered together thinking over the meaning of that last statement, Amy takes a seat beside Heather, helping put her toys away to the woman’s surprise. “Learning accountability, are you?” Heather asks, Amy brushing off the question entirely, partly not having an answer, partly not understanding the definition of the word ‘accountability.’ “Does this mean I have to start killing zombies?” Amy asks, Heather’s head tilted down towards the bin while her eyes slowly drift upwards. “Why would you need to start doing that?” Heather asks, folding the box’s lid and returning it to its rightful spot. “If things are gonna get harder, that means we’re gonna be forced to move again” Amy explains, her experience of the apocalypse not having been fruitful in the department of life lessons. “I just wanna stop those things before they stop me” Amy replies, Heather looking towards the girl with concern in her eyes, telling Amy that she shouldn’t have to worry about that. “But I want to” Amy responds, worrying Heather more as she explains that she doesn’t want to be caught without a way to fight back. “Will you teach me?” Amy asks, Heather glancing back to the girl, explaining that they’ll talk about such a thing at a later point. Done with her chores, Amy wanders into the rest of the house while Heather stays behind, taking a seat against the wall and staring at the door. “You good?” Jack asks as he walks up the stairs, the door left wide open for him to find Heather anxiously seated on the ground. “Yeah, I’m good” Heather replies, watching Jack slowly walk up the final few steps before nodding off and returning to another section of the home. | “Carrot boy!” Nessie calls out, catching Emilio with his feet hanging off the dock and an apple in his mouth. “Please never call me that again” the man responds, preparing to stand up and move onto something else before Nessie refuses his advancement, telling him to remain seated. As told, Emilio returns to his lunch as it was, Nesside taking a seat beside him with her hands in her pockets, making a passing comment at the sun glistening over the water. “Yeah, it’s real nice” Emilio replies, his tone presenting itself as confused to be in this position to begin with. “Something’s wrong with you, and it’s not hard to see” Nessie explains, “I may have only known you for the last month, but you’re not the man I keep hearing people say you are.” With a smile, Emilio thanks the woman for concerning him with the popular opinion, expressing his appreciation with, “the next time I need inspiration, I’ll ask Siri.” With a nod, the woman points out that to be the person she’s heard him discussed as. “Hardened over by losing someone important to him, but always keeps spirits high enough for everything to feel okay” Nessie recites, “Katie’s words, not mine… But clearly genuine.” Parting his lips to retort, Emilio gives up midway through, taking in a deep breath and nodding, Nessie noticing the appreciation he has for such kind words. “She’s not the only one, John’s words were the best by a mile, but hers stick out too” Nessie continues, shooting down Emilio’s request to hear John’s statement by repeating her original statement. “Something’s wrong with you, and it’s extremely easy to notice” Nessie responds, Emilio glancing back out at the sea while she asks what happened. “My carrots won’t grow, that’s all” Emilio replies, taking the final bite from his apple before discarding of the core into the water and attempting to walk off. Taking the man by the arm, Nessie stands up to meet him at eye level once more, standing between him and the coast and threatening to shove him off the peer if she doesn’t get a genuine answer. With a grunt, Emilio tucks his hands into his pockets while Nessie presses a hand against his chest, suggesting Emilio to be working against time. “I thought I was gonna die back there… back on the island” Emilio responds, Nessie looking at him through squinted eyes, intrigued. “Was that what you wanted?” Nessie asks, Emilio taking in a sigh before admitting that he truly has no genuine idea. “It wasn’t looking good… I had to make peace with that while I was in there, and eventually I started to expect it” Emilio explains, “I don’t think it’s really easy to come back from something like that.” Her head tilted, Nessie drops her hand from his chest, asking him what kind of peace he made when he was confronted with such a predicament. With a laugh, Emilio explains that whatever came next would bring his husband back in some capacity. “Whether it’s heaven, or a do-over, or whatever it’s gonna be” Emilio explains, “there’s a part of me thinking that he’s up there waiting for me when my time comes.” Turning away from the man, Nessie looks out at the waters of the sound gradually crash into the rocks, smiling at the sight before pointing out a pattern in Emilio’s responses to everything. “Carrots not growing right, being at odds with Dawson and Sun City… It doesn’t seem like you” Nessie explains, Emilio not taking his eyes away from her, “this isn’t something you want, is it?” His eyes finally leaving the woman, they casually drift to the ground while he, at first, silently shakes his head. “Rebuilding life as it used to be… It’s a noble goal, hell it’s real optimistic” Emilio explains, Nessie cutting him off finishing his sentence, “but it doesn’t feel possible, does it?” With a smile, Emilio shakes his head again. “Not anymore” the man responds, both staring out at the charred remains of the island they both once considered their final resting places once upon a time in silence. | “You need a steady hand and some patience” Franklin explains, staring down the eye of a hunting rifle while Alicia stands behind him, leaning against the tree with a granola bar in her mouth. “Both of which you have none of” the woman replies, watching the man force a bullet through the barrel and into a tree a good few yards away from a deer, who hoofs it upon the air ripping by its ears to Franklin’s disappointment. Amused, Alicia gives the man an applause, Franklin allowing the woman to take over by handing her the weapon and taking the granola bar. “I give in, I’m not Katie or Salem, I’ll see myself out” Franklin explains, burying the sharpened attachment of his aesthetic into the head of the undead and continuing on. “We’re gonna get an earful when we go back” Franklin exclaims, Alicia suggesting otherwise if luck turns in their favor. “They wont care where we go, mainland or otherwise, as long as we bring something back to show for it” Alicia explains, following the tattered branches to where the deer would go next. “We’re wasting more gas than we bring back in food” Franklin replies, his girlfriend suggesting a solution to that problem in not letting him shoot at the game any more. “You know what I’m trying to say” Franklin responds, Alicia explaining that not only does that statement remain true, but it does so the other way around, as well. “You know what we’re doing out here other than shoot deer” Alicia explains, “even if it means finding something short term, we’re looking for an alternative.” Continuing to walk under the burning daylight, the pair stop for a brief moment as they overhear the roaring engines of the paramtorist above, their parachute blocking out the sun for a short while as they soar above. “Someone flying as frequently as they do must not care about the gas expirations” Alicia mutters to herself, Franklin suggesting that they’re just content on enjoying the view while they have it. “No one lives this long in the world to waste the little resources they have on sight-seeing” Alicia explains, “either she doesn’t know gas expires, or she has no reason to worry about it.” Continuing to trek through the dense woodland, the pair stumble upon a small group of the undead stumbling through the bramble, the sound of the engines of the low-flying pilot driving the undead east. Happy with keeping herself out of trouble, Alicia redirects their efforts, taking the pair back to the boat they arrived in. “If they’re just sight-seeing, oh well” Alicia exclaims, “but if they’ve got no reason to fear running low, they may be someone worth going after.” Convinced, Franklin joins the woman in returning south, their eyes captured by the soaring spectacle above every few feet, motivated by the possible solution to their problems. | “John Callis?” a voice calls out, catching the attention of the man at the bar, his hand held up motioning for the voice to make himself welcomed. Obliging, the man takes a seat beside John at the bar, completely silent at first, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other. “Are you about to kill me?” John asks, mocking the silent treatment until the man insists otherwise, holding his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Seth Havermeyer, I write for Sun City’s journal” the man explains, John shrugging in complete unawareness of what any of the man’s introduction means. “We report on the things going on in Sun City, kind of like a newspaper… Well, exactly like a newspaper” Seth explains, “we’ve been wanting to talk with you for a few weeks now.” “Why?” John asks, his statement short and simple, leaving Seth to do the majority of the talking. “Well, there’s not many reasons not to” Seth explains, “you were sent out to Fishers Island to die by Dawson and not only lived, but won.” Glancing back at Clint, John watches the man shrug his shoulders and walk off, John proceeding to respond with a simple statement that he’s not interested in answering questions. “Aren’t you here to speak with Dawson?” Seth proceeds, John glancing at the man and asking how he heard about that. “Sir, you’re not exactly someone unheard of” Seth explains, “there’s a ton of people here that remember you from Sheol… You’re kind of the closest thing we have to celebrity right now.” Lowering his head, John presses it against the counter a few times before reiterating what he had said prior. “I’m not interested in answering questions, and I’m not interested in talking with you or your low-rent newspaper” John repeats, “so if you know me as well as you seem to think, you’ll know I’d like to sit with my wife and have a beer while I wait for Dawson.” Feeling slighted, Seth nods to himself, ordering a beer and making himself comfortable. “Did you not hear anything I just said?” John proceeds to ask, Seth looking back to the man, explaining that there’s no law against having a seat beside someone at the bar. “Either you walk away right now or I’m gonna break your two front teeth right here” John explains, Seth leaning back in his seat, hand outstretched to John as the man is held back by Jessica. “There is a law about provoking a fight, though!” Seth quickly points out, “and I don’t think sharing space with people jailed by Dawson would like you getting all cozy next to him.” With a laugh, John asks Seth to recite the law verbatim. “One cannot lay hands on one other unprovoked” Seth responds, John smirking upon the man concluding, taking the option that finds him spitting in the man’s face, much to Clint’s amusement. Annoyed, Seth stands up from his seat, staring John down as the bearded warrior he’s been made out to be repeats Seth’s previous line. “One cannot lay hands on one other unprovoked!” John exclaims, “but there’s plenty more where that came from if you don’t fuck off.” Wiping the line of saliva from his face, Seth picks up his notebook from the counter and knocks the beer over, punishing Clint for having laughed at him. “You better hope someone that doesn’t like you stays out of office” Seth warns, glancing back at Jess before adding, “I hear there’s a daughter of yours you need this place to stay upright for.” Eyes narrowing, John begins slowly inching forward until the tavern doors shoot open, Ameil calling for John and his wife to leave with him. “Buddy buddy time, is it?” Seth asks, John taking Jess by the hand and leading her out of the bar, Seth staring the pair down the whole way. Deboarding the boat, John and Jess touch down upon what remains of Fishers Island, Ameil leading them into the blackened ruins of a once hidden city. “How far does this stuff stretch?” John inquires, Ameil emotionlessly confirming the entire island to be lost. “Miles and miles of island just… Just gone like that” the man explains, John hanging his head in response whilst Jess takes his hand in her own. The more land they cover, the further the devastation appears the same, each sign of life burned in such a way that makes it nearly identical to all the rest. Suddenly, the bleak, endless range of burnt forest finds itself a new location, one unique in its own way from the vast landscape of death. Sat at a table in the middle of a cleared out hole in the woods, Dawson awaits the pair, a bottle of whiskey stationed atop the desk as a welcome gift. Refusing to stand for the pair, Dawson remains seated, hand pointed towards the two empty seats awaiting the couple’s occupancy. “I don’t want to waste too much time talking about things we already know so I’ll get straight to the point” Dawson explains, “I’m gonna get voted out in this emergency election soon and I want one of your people to replace me.” Eyebrows lowered, John tells Dawson that the chances of that happening are below zero. “We were coming here looking for some supplies to stick out the winter!” John exclaims, “we’re in no position to take over Sun City.” Folding them together, Dawson slams his hands against the table, assuring John that he, nor his people, will hold control over Sun City. “You, or whoever you choose, is gonna be a puppet” Dawson explains, “I’ll lead Sun City through one of you in response for what you’ve left me with.” Humored, John looks Dawson in the eye, telling the man to repeat his final sentence. “You heard what I said, John!” Dawson exclaims, “you’ve burnt this entire place to a crisp, took your island, and left me with the mess to clean up!” Leant back in his chair, John stares at Dawson with wide eyes, reminding the man of how they got to the island in the first place. Before John can freshen the man’s memory, Dawson does so for himself from his own perspective. “A group of grade-A assholes demanded they storm into a suicide mission, and I not only let them, but I gave them a boat too!” Dawson replies, “that’s what happened, and you went back on that deal!” Leaning back towards the table to retort, John thinks twice, restating that final statement in his head as Jess looks away. “What deal? What the hell are you talking about?” John replies, Dawson glancing back at Jess to notice her reaction, realizing the lack of information shared between the two. “This is a funny turn of events, isn’t it?” Dawson exclaims, John turning towards Jess, who stares at her lap with her head hung. “What did you agree to, Jessica?” John proceeds to ask, Dawson answering his question on his wife’s behalf. “She assured me everything that came with this island in return for giving your little village autocracy” Dawson explains, “essentially, your future in return for our ability to thrive.” Turning towards the woman, John asks his wife why she never said anything before, Jess left with little to answer with. “I didn’t expect us to live” Jess replies, “not only did I not think it would have mattered, but I didn’t think you’d cause a forest fire to create a distraction.” With his head in his hands, John rests his elbows on the table while Dawson continues, explaining that he could do a lot worse. “I have half the mind to slaughter all of your friends on that island right now for what you took from me” Dawson explains, “but you should consider yourself lucky I’ve settled for this.” With a deep breath, Dawson pops the top off the bottle and downs the few first sips, explaining that he finds pity for John. “One way or another, she had no right not to tell you at all” Dawson explains, “and since I can see you genuinely didn’t know, I’m not gonna take my anger out on you.” Looking up, John places his eyes upon Dawson, watching the man continue on about all that he’s lost. “I’ve been relegated to calling this husk of an island my home because I can’t sleep in my bed anymore without worrying I’ll be assassinated because of her” Dawson explains, “I’d like that suffering to be made worth it.” Her hands placed against the table, Jess starts to refuse Dawson’s request, ultimately falling short of beating out her husband, who accepts the request on her behalf out of spite. “What are you doing?” Jess asks, her face turning towards the man, who slumps back in his seat, staring at the broken table the three stare at. “You caused this mess and you had no intention of telling me” John replies, “if anyone here is gonna clean it up, it’s gonna be you and you alone.” “John, I went into that fight by your side” Jess replies, John immediately cutting back, completely shocked at the revelation presented. “It is one thing to wanna take our daughter and run off into the night without telling me, Jess” John explains, understanding her motivations then, “but it is a whole different thing to make a bet with our daughter’s life, let alone without telling me.” On the verge of tears, Jess hides her sadness behind a stoic mask, trying to plead with her husband to take her view point into consideration. In complete denial, John waves his hand towards Jess, admitting disgust when he looks at her. “I can understand you wanting to leave before I get myself killed… I really can” John confesses, “but I never… never… thought you’d be capable of doing something like this.” Refusing to shed another tear, John stands from the seat and walks away from the table, leaving Jess behind and returning the way in which he came. Ignoring the woman’s pleas for her to stop, John returns to the roots of his coping mechanism from war, drowning out all the noise until his head fills with faint echos. Continuing silently forward, John eventually outpaces Jess, who stands where she gave up, letting John walk off as he boards the vessel. “Go” the man says, still hearing every noise around him as a muffled garble, the engine roaring on as the boat takes him back home dulled out, his wife left on the coast watching him ride off. == Rise == The further they investigate the untapped forest, the harsher the terrain becomes. Portions of the ground cleared from prior usage, the majority of the field beneath their feet is covered in deceased leaves, twigs, and trash left over from the island’s prior inhabitants. “How much farther before we reach the shore?” Jack asks, Lauren looking for signage left by the prior world to gage her understanding.
“Probably an hour or so” the woman replies, Alicia whacking away at the overhanging snippets of nature clogging her path with a dull kitchen knife. Continuing to march towards the nearest water front, the trio stops in an instant at the sound of rivaling footsteps, their weapons readied in the event they find themselves the subject of a surprise attack. “Whoever’s lurking around us, I’m giving you one chance to show yourself before we start swinging” Alicia calls out, letting fate decide. After a brief few seconds, the rustling begins once again, this time less ominous than it had sounded prior, more caution and intent in the footsteps following. Sun still over the horizon just enough to illuminate the woods they travel through, Alicia, Jack and Lauren prepare for whatever hides behind the cover of thick forest to make up its mind. Suddenly, Katie and Franklin appear from between the forest with their hands raised, both parties levels of concern plummeting. With a sigh of relief, Alicia runs forward and dives into Franklin’s arms, Katie reconnecting with Jack and Lauren as the group trade stories of their past number of hours. “Have you seen any of the others?” Katie begins wondering aloud, Alicia stopped before she can answer by a massive eruption in the distance, a ball of fire and smoke firing from between the trees roughly half a mile away. Ducking for cover, the group holds their arms up, the intense heat matching with the blinding brightness coming to a conclusion when the fireball dies down into a large fire. “I think I know where they might be” Jack exclaims, the first to march forward, cutting the warm welcomes short and directing those remaining amongst the living towards the beacon of light in the dying, sunset sky. = Rise 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 3 onwards = / earlier / “We have no idea how long it’ll take for Jess to convince them to show up, let alone if she even will” Salem explains, “and if there’s a small chance she didn’t even make it there, there’s a fair chance she’s not gonna pull it off.” Adding onto Salem’s point, Angela clarifies that those they train are ready to die. “The second any sign of war breaks out, the people will show up ready to fight” Angela explains, “however long it takes, we need to do what we can to be able to hold our own.” Hand covering his mouth, John stares off into the distance, taking in every ounce of information he can before making up his mind. “You’re both right” John replies, “we’re racing against the lock at a disadvantage and need to start moving.” In agreement, John marches to the center of the camp Calling for the attention of the masses, John explains that they’ll be on the move shortly, but need to square some things away before any moves can be made. “First and foremost, we need to address our goal… Run those in charge off the island” John explains, “we need to target something specific to make that happen… What do we go after?” Stood there silently, John patiently awaits a suggestion, being wrong in his assumption that at least one of the residents would have something loosely resembling an idea. “No one’s allowed to go into the square” Caruso explains, “you’re either taken there are prisoner or as a worker.” In a sigh of disappointment, Caruso explains to John that no one in the camp would choose to stay there if they worked for those in charge. His hands clapping together, John begins to think about secondary options, any information they just so happen to have stumbled across in the time they’ve spent on the island. Carefully weighing his options, John’s train of thought is ripped from the tracks and sent spiralling when Nessie calls out from the waterfront. “Go after their generator!” the woman exclaims, John’s eyes joining the rest of the community’s by darting across the camp towards the source of the voice. Compelled by the suddenness of the suggestion, John leaves his post accompanied by Salem and Angela, who themselves are accompanied by the rest of the camp, in approaching the treeline. “Repeat that” John exclaims, a pleased Nessie smiling with glee as she takes note of John’s intrigue. “The square relies on their generators for the little electricity they can muster” Nessie replies, “considering their generators run off of a solar grid, you kill that, you kill their reason to stay.”Glancing back to his group mates, John welcomes additional input from either, Angela more willing than Salem to remind John that taking out the generators implies killing off the concept of long-term electricity in the community. “You put that grid down and this place isn’t going to see any more electricity until the next poor fuck ties a key to a kite and lets it fly in a lightning storm” Angela explains, crushing John’s main purpose of liberating the island. “You won’t get much out of them anyway” Nessie replies, challenging Angela to a game of devil’s advocate and playing chicken with who takes on the role as the angel on John’s shoulder. “Those generators can muster electricity, but not enough for an entire camp” Nessie explains, “you’re better off starting from scratch and going back to the old fashioned way.” With a nod, John glances back to Angela, the woman left with little more to respond with. “If it won’t do enough for the whole island, then it’s worth more as a deterrent than it is a lifeline” Angela replies, admitting defeat. “Do you know where to find this generator?” John proceeds to inquire, Nessie explaining that there’s only one place a solar grid would be able to work, leading John to the only information he was left to need. “Alright, here’s how this is gonna work” John exclaims, the remainder of the community huddled together in anticipation of what will likely be the final stand for many. | Roaring of the crowd beginning to commence once more, Emilio remains shackled to the wall as a prisoner, awaiting the sight that will befall him. “If this is it for us, big guy… It’s been a pleasure” Emilio jokes to the man shackled to his prison bars. Before long, the butcher comes across Emilio’s space, a man with both hands having been removed held in her grasp, seemingly deemed to be guilty for a cause rather than guilty of a crime. With little hesitation, the sour expression on the butcher’s face tells Emilio all he needs to know of her opinion of him, her machete held with the intention of delivery a special brand of hatred and disgust. The blade soaring into the air, the woman imbeds the end of her weapon into the man’s stomach, his cries of pain turning into the moans of a man having placed the first knuckle upon death’s doorstep. With little care, the butcher unlocks Emilio’s cell and throws the man into the space, affording Emilio a roommate for the time being. Slamming the door in anger and walking away, the butcher leaves her most recent victim to turn, Emilio watching her walk off with his eyebrow raised. Taking special interest in something he’s managed to capture, Emilio begins his process of tugging away at the spike in the wall once more, his efforts driven by hope and realism. | His fingers pressed against his lips, John watches those whom he has trained hide within the overgrowth the pirates have allowed to get too far out of hand before approaching the main square. Almost as if the landscape was planned out in such a way, the closer John becomes to the square, the more the sky appears, the land is maintained with care and interest whilst he walks away from an overcrowded jumble of mother nature’s ravaging. Dressed in the clothing of the guards so brilliantly executed a short time ago, John surveys the square before noticing his intended destination. Keeping a low profile, the makeshift hut used for the purpose of an armory stays hidden away by the natural inclination to spot out pretty things. Other buildings having been built prior to the end of the world that came before it, the hut resembles something ugly and unpleasing, refusing to be noticed by anyone unaware of what resides within. His end goal in sight, John suddenly notices something a few feet away from the sight he holds to be more valuable than most others, his attention immediately pulled towards it without question. Refusing to remain still for too long, John takes his moment while it’s available and directs himself upon a new path, descending a staircase into the depths of the community, tucked behind a set of stone pillars with the intention of remaining hidden. Finally reaching the main passage of his destination, John is greeted by the sudden clambering of an entire cellar’s worth of inmates, all with a chained overseer as held captive as they are. Each cage he walks by, another pair of shouts begin, the man walking slowly and keeping his eyes peeled for any familiar sight. Gun by his side, John’s stride grows more confident the further along he travels, the overseers paying no attention to the man they assume is there to serve as another reaper. Continuing forward, John begins growing accustomed to turning his head back and forth to such a point that he’s eventually forced into a double take, sharing a stare with the restrained Emilio. Not paying much attention at first, instead preferring to not see his demise coming, Emilio keeps his head down, widdling away at the spike behind his head until he hears the voice he’s become so familiar with. At a complete stop, Emilio lifts his head to find John suggesting Emilio’s overseer take a few minutes off so he can deliver a private message to the inmate. Taking his opportunity while it’s presented, the overseer asks no questions, undoing his chain and taking the first chance he can to escape to freedom, even if only momentary. The overseer zipping away, Emilio mouths a set of words to John, who prepared to keep his voiced hushed from the other side of the bars. Able to read lips well, John removes his hand from his pocket as if retrieving a key, pretending to unlock the door before pulling it open. “She left it unlocked when she dumped this guy in here with me” Emilio explains, “but I don’t really care about that now that I see you here.” With a smile, John tells Emilio that they weren’t going to leave him behind, knowing the man would have used his nature gifts to keep himself alive for at least a short amount of time. With a smile, John continues to look at the man held captive, his smile slowly fading and his head hanging. “Actually, that’s not true” John replies, swallowing his pride and looking the man in the eyes as he corrects himself, “I was ready to back for help when it all happened. Angela convinced me not to.” With a smirk, Emilio admits that he isn’t going to hold that against the man, explaining that he would’ve thought the same thing if he were in John’s shoes. “If Bill were still alive and you were caught by these guys, I would’ve left myself” Emilio explains, “when your heart belongs with someone other than yourself, they take priority over everything.” His head hung, John reminds Emilio that it’s no good excuse. “Of course it’s not a good excuse, but it’s a good reason” Emilio replies, “it says less about you or how you think of me, and more about how important your wife and the kid are.” With a nod, John reaches up to Emilio’s head, hands stretched out for the chains until Emilio backs away, telling the man not to. Shaking his head, Emilio tells John that there’s no breaking free from the locks, regardless of how much he’s tried. “It’s cast iron steel, I’m not going anywhere” Emilio explains, a wave of disgust running over John’s face when forced to admit Emilio to be correct. Telling John to strike fast, Emilio explains that there’s still a way out of the mess. “When you attack, make it known that you’re with Sun City” Emilio explains, “she’ll bring me out to barter and then I’ll try to get free.” Not content with the plan in the slightest, John admits to it being better than nothing before pulling his knife free and turning towards the body. Calling for John to stop, Emilio tells the man to leave the corpse to reanimate, “I can take it down with my feet if I have to, I just wanna have a plan B if some cards get to fall in my favor.” With a shrug, John returns his weapon to his waistband, standing over the seated Emilio and taking in what he accepts the possibility of being their final interaction to be. “I’m good, John” Emilio explains, “I’m gonna do my thing, and I need you to do yours.” With a smile, John wishes Emilio luck, removing his knife and placing it behind Emilio’s back in the event he can use it. “Maybe you’ll get an extra pair of hands out of me” Emilio replies, John left to laugh at the joke before accepting the terms and walking away. Looking back, John gives a final nod to Emilio, who returns the gesture with a smile, saying goodbye in his own personal way as John vanishes the way he came. | Rattling against a fence and subsequently gathering a small horde of walkers into the chain links, a curved blade rests in the gloved hands of someone desperate to gather their prey into one, centralized location. The best they’re going to get, the figure to which wields the weapons puts down the undead clambering for their flesh and quickly scales the one barrier between them and the massive air strip of the undead horde contained within its confines. Dragging a parachute behind them, the figure wields their blade like a professional, spinning it between their fingers and tacking on the horde one at a time. Without fear, the gutsy survivor hurries into the horde of the undead, taking their frustrations of the world on the ones responsible for its downfall, dropping heads to the ground one after another until a large enough strip of runway has been uncovered. Taking their chance, the figure returns the way they entered, facing down the open strip as they had moments prior before running forward once more. The undead beginning to catch up, the figure takes the parachute by its handles and continues running, pulling a string a number of times before the paramotor fan blade strapped to their back powers up and catches air. As the dead close in, the figure lifts their legs into the air and gradually ascends into the sky. Their eyes set on Nova Scotia, the figure continues about their flight until a sudden eruption in the sky catches their attention, a massive ball of flames shooting into the heavens unavoidable. Their head turning towards the sight, the figure locates the source in which it originated before retrieving a map from their bag. Dressed in clothing suited for the cold temperatures of high altitudes, the figure runs their finger over their map in direction of Fisher’s Island. With a deep breath, the figure glances back into the direction of Nova Scotia before glancing towards the now massive plume of smoke dissipating in the sky. Nodding, the figure returns the map to their bag and changes course, zipping around nearly one hundred and eighty degrees directly towards the fire. At first glance, the figure can only notice the forest going up in flames, enough evidence to convince them to keep flying, refusing to acknowledge the island and move on. | Thumb high into the air, John glances in Salem’s direction, she and Angela holed up in the trees with long range weapons whilst John stands before an army of newly-armed residents. With a nod from John, Salem has her cue, scope pulling itself away from John and towards a bulbous tank at the very back of the campsite a few hundred yards out. With a deep breath, Salem steadies her aim and pulls the trigger, a bullet soaring from her weapon and bullying the propane tank. In an instant, flames shoot through the skies, lighting the nature on fire and giving the signal to anyone within one hundred miles that war has begun. “Now!” John shouts, his command eliciting the response of his armed camp to open fire on the pirates previously oblivious to the attack. Round after round expended into the one thing keeping them from complete triumph, John continues firing. One by one, the residents having been willing to die for the cause do just that, their lives lost in fighting for their freedom whilst continuing to deplete the strength of the island’s officials. Watching the gunfire from within the butcher’s sanctum, the towering brute familiar to the sight of Emilio guides the butcher away from danger and closer to the preservation of a boat. Unwilling to allow such a fight drive her from the hill she chooses to die upon, the butcher refuses to follow the man to safety, instead demanding she be taken to the dungeon where the one thing guaranteeing triumph can be located. Hesitant, the brute attempts to argue his side, easily bested by the woman unwilling to listen, repeating her demands and expecting them to be met. Returning to the window, the brute lets out a sigh before giving in, leading the woman into the battlefield. | “I want complete awareness of where we’re going and what we plan to do” Dawson exclaims, the rundown he was intent on giving cut short by the sounds and sights of a massive fireball up ahead. “What the hell is that!?” Ameil cries out, Jess and Heather both realizing what neither of the two leads of Sun City have figured out yet. “Our guys are still alive” Jess exclaims, “and it seems like they waged war without us!” Glancing back towards the woman, Dawson confesses to having undervalued John’s abilities to finish a fight, his intentions going from working an uphill battle to aiding an ally in battle. | To the sound of the inmates already roaring, the butcher returns to the dungeon with one person in mind. Enraged, the butcher demands the overseer attached to Emilio’s cell leave immediately, the man trapped within joking that she left the door unlocked last time. Without a word, the butcher rips the doors open and marches in, brought to an immediate halt upon Emilio’s greeting. “His name is John Callis, he’s with an army of less than one hundred that have little combat experience and you should win this handily” Emilio explains, “he’s not with Sun City, they likely don’t know about anything other than the explosion.” Caught by surprise, the woman asks the man to repeat himself, Emilio refusing to do anything of the sorts, instead further supporting his statements. “Under the right format, Democracy can work… But the right format is no longer here” Emilio explains, “I believe in what you’re building and I would like to be a part of it.” With little response, the butcher stands in awe as Emilio apologizes for having taken so long to consider it. Standing from the ground, rattling the chains and calling the butcher closer, Emilio explains that there are improvements that need to be made here, but they are easy and take time and commitment. “I showed you the other day that there are smoke screens, and this war is nothing more than that” Emilio explains, taking the woman’s face in his hand and pleading with het to let him be a part of it. Unable to think of any other words, the butcher accepts his change of heart, and welcomes Emilio into the new world she envisions herself building. Before she can say another word, the faint growling sounds from beneath them begin, the body she left Emilio in the possession of having finally returned to life. With a smile, Emilio glances towards the sky and quietly mouths to whatever higher power resides above as the butcher raises a fair question. “Are you free from your restraints?” the woman asks, having finally noticed Emilio’s free hand caressing her cheek. In the same breath, Emilio plunges the blade John left him into the woman’s abdomen, her heightened senses having failed her in the most dire of moments. Tightening his grip on the woman’s cheek as she struggles for air, Emilio tilts the woman’s face towards his own, explaining to her that it’s always the most powerful that fall in the most obvious ways. “They think they can see everything, but they’re too blind with power they can’t see what’s right in front of them” Emilio explains, “they think they’re untouchable, and fall to the most ironic fate every single time.” With a smirk, Emilio removes the knife from the butcher’s stomach and pulls her down by the head, throwing her to the floor and into the waiting hands of the undead. Tossing the spike into the air and catching it with the same hand, Emilio pulls the key ring on the butcher’s person as she’s eaten alive, walking out of and locking the cell to the soundtrack of her bloody cries for mercy. With a smile, Emilio holsters his knife and marches for the entrance, the chorus of shouting from the inmates at the sight of one of their own claiming victory only further riling them up. Taking the moment to consider his options, Emilio stops at the exit, glancing back at the massive corridor of cells with a smile. Rushing back to the end of the corridor, Emilio twirls the keys around his finger, suggesting every overseer make an escape while they still have the chance. Starting from the very back, Emilio removes one key from the ring after another, tossing them to the inmate inside and telling them to fight those responsible for locking them up in the name of liberation. With a cheer, the dungeon becomes Emilio’s own personal fanbase, his adoration emanating from granting those wrongfully locked away their well-deserved freedom. | Marching onwards, John fires off at anyone siding with the enemy, marching further into the battle field before he’s swept off his feet at the linebacker-like tackle from the massive brute Emilio would be too familiar with. A punching battle ensuing, John fails to gain the upper hand, his strength no match for the outright weight of the towering man knelt above him. “How dare you orchestrate this nonsense!” the brute exclaims, his massive hands wrapping around John’s throat and attempting to literally squeeze the life out of him. “You cost me my home you son of a bitch!” the brute exclaims, John giving into helplessly attempting to gasp for air as it slowly becomes less possible to take in. “I’m gonna make you suffer you pile of-” the brute continues, John’s eyes closed shut until the grip is released, the brute unable to complete his sentence. Gasping for air, the gunfire slowly becomes more recognizable as warm liquid drips over his face. Finally having regained the breath to pry his eyes open again, John stares up at the edge of a dagger looking him in the eyes. The brute’s mouth wide open, the blade rests between his teeth until it tears itself out, the massive body collapsing to the side as a blood-soaked Nessie stands over him, the blade dangling by her side whilst Clint holds his hand out. “She wouldn’t save just anybody” Clint exclaims, helping John to his feet, “consider yourself lucky.” Accepting that as truth, John thanks the pair and splits off once more, unwilling to admit the war to be over until the final strike has been dealt. Before he can vanish into the sea of chaos, the sound of rapid gunfire popping off through the dense forest commences, Dawson and Ameil charging into the square, ordering everyone to the coast. Taking their opportunity to obtain freedom, those having fought for John scatter into the dense forest, the man having led them there being watched by Dawson as he ventures through the rundown school building. “I’m going after John” Dawson calls out, telling Ameil to keep his head up for anything unexpected. Doing as told, Ameil ducks behind a concrete barrier and continues firing at anything sporting the appearance of the wrong side of war. Chasing after John, Dawson disappears into the building, drenched in the darkness with his rifle ready, knowing the look on John’s face to suggest he had a plan before the first shot was fired. == Rise == “I don’t think you understand how the prison system works” Emilio jokes, pointing the the chain wrapped around his observer’s ankle. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be locked up, not you” the man continues, his counterpart refusing to acknowledge his presence, let alone provide a voice for which Emilio can interact with. “Not much of a talker?” Emilio inquires, his hands chained to the wall just a few short inches away.
“Oh come on, what’s so dangerous about having a little discussion with your subject?” Emilio asks again, the large brute of a man before him still unmoving and unresponsive. Hands placed against the hook protruding from the wall to keep him restrained, Emilio continues attempting to make contact whilst he turns the simplistic hook from one side to another, intending to create give. After a few minutes of fidgeting combines with an aimless monologue, Emilio ceases his efforts at the sound of metal bars opening up, immediately instigating a flurry of cries for mercy from the captives similarly restrained as Emilio. The soil soft enough to mask the footsteps descending further into the chambers, all Emilio has to go off of is the sound at which the hollers for help travel down the length of the limestone caverns. Suddenly, the female figure eliciting such a response walks past Emilio’s chambers, in the blink of an eye, entering from one side before disappearing behind another. Again only able to respond to the shouts he can hear, Emilio hushes himself down whilst his chest heaves from the heavy breaths he takes. Finally, the sound of a skeleton key entering the locks of the prison bars emanates, the shouts of help making it easy to locate the one shout of refusal from the depths. “Please! I beg of you!” the man shouts, the screams of those in captivity remaining unchanged as the pleading man hushes down in a sudden instant. Shouts from beside his prison bars growing silent as the man whom entered slowly trails down the corridor to which he once hurriedly walked. Within moments, the figure returns into Emilio’s view, looking to each side as she carries the decapitated head of her victim by her side, blood dripping from the point it was severed at. Shocked and disgusted, Emilio simply sits and stares, the figure stopping in the middle of the walkway for a moment and noticing Emilio’s reaction. With a lack of remorse and a calis stare, the figure pulls the head up to her shoulder and brings it to eye level before grotesquely biting its lip. Without concern, the woman returns the head to her side, gliding her thumb across her neck as if to warn Emilio to be careful, disappearing down the remainder of the lengths thereafter. = Rise 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 3 onwards = “Thank you all for coming” Dawson greets, the residents of Sun City mostly gathered in the center of the town, awaiting Dawson’s answer in regards to a rumored war being waged. “I know you’re all aware of some rumors, so I’ll just be as upfront with it as we can” Dawson explains, “I’m currently in the process of preparing troops for a hostile takeover of Fisher’s Island.” The opinion divisive, Dawson is left with a silent audience, patiently awaiting all the information they can obtain. “I understand that this isn’t going to be the most popular decision, but I have confidence it is achievable” Dawson explains, “and as far as we can see now that we have a keener eye on what’s happening inside, I’m more confident in a mission of this scale than I ever have been before.” Looking towards Jess with a raised eyebrow, Dawson admits to the crowd that he is of the belief that the island has resources necessary to upholding the quality of life Sun City operates. The length of the speech being one of inspiring hope, Dawson finds the response from those that voted him into power with confidence lacking enthusiasm. “When you ran for the position, you said you’d never go into war without a reason to” one of the many residents inquire, “what do you have to gain from this fight… And what do you have to lose.” Biting his bottom lip, Dawson explains that the answer to the second half of the question is simple, life being the answer every single time. Before continuing, Dawson glances towards Heather again, thinking over his next words very carefully, the crowd unsure of what to make of the prolonged silence. “We’d gain whatever they have on the island, everything from basic resources to unknown treasures” Dawson explains, continuing to withhold the shortage of gas from the public. Displeased, Heather shakes her head, walking off from the site and returning to her cabin whilst Dawson continues, Ameil taking it as his responsibility to follow after her. Calling for her to wait, Ameil is left providing himself as the complaint box, Heather turning around to remind him that refusing to inform the people of a problem is wrong. “Everything this place says it stands for is thrown away if the people don’t know what’s going on!” Heather argues, Ameil left with little more than to remind her that it is all for a reason. “We’re not intending harm on these people by keeping this from them” Ameil explains, the words only angering Heather further, the woman storming off to her home, demanding Ameil stay where he stands. Not one to start an argument over a difference in belief, Ameil does as told, the sound of his friend continuing to answer questions in the background the only sound resonating over the escalating tensions. | Inspecting the camp to get a better understanding of the area, John notices the small pond just a few steps behind the trees, a man and a woman stood at the edge with fishing rods. “You guys with the camp?” John asks, walking through the bramble towards the waterfront, both residents confirming his belief. “I’m Clint, this is my sister, Vanessa” the man replies, leaving anything other than their names hidden for safe keeping. “I go by Nessie” Vanessa adds, a fleece jacket hiked up her arms as they rest upon a well-built wooden railing. “Do you guys know what the camp is planning on?” John asks, taking interest in the difference between the posture of the pair and that of the remainder of the camp. Those within scrambling to learn how to wield any objects in their immediate surroundings to fight, Nessie and Clint remain on their own, taking the moment beneath a fair afternoon sun to fish. “Yeah, we’re storming the square whenever you guys give the signal” Nessie replies, the reminder of an upcoming war being mentioned in a rather nonchalant tone. “And instead of preparing to fight, you lot have decided to fish?” John continues, Clint puckering his lips before glancing at his sister, only to direct them back towards John. “Yup” Clint replies, returning to his activities, leaving the man intrigued by their confidence. Hands to his hips, John nods to himself whilst walking closer to the pair, suddenly pulling his hand up and lunging his palm out towards the woman’s neck. Having taken notice of the man’s approach, Nessie takes her moment when it appears, grabbing John’s hand and twisting his arm backwards, kicking his feet from beneath him before holding a dagger to his throat. “We’re ready whenever you are” Nessie exclaims, John’s arm still in her hand and dagger gently caressing his chin. Patting the man’s jawline with her blade, Nessie lets the man’s arm fall and returns her dagger to her pocket, Clint having not moved an inch through the entire ordeal. “My sister knows what she’s doing, Mr John” Clint admits, the man pushing himself to his feet and wiping off the dirt and leaves sticking to his clothes. “Something you should probably know about us is that we come from much the same place as you” Clint explains, “had a place in Vixen County a ways back.” Hearing the name of the long-forgotten settlement, John freezes in place, Clint having to explain that they doesn’t hold the downfall of Sheol against him. “We know your people started a riot that led to the bomb” Clint explains, “we never liked the people or the place anyway, so we probably should thank you.” Catching his breath, John inquires about the outcome of Vixen County, Clint recalling it like a sad story. “Once Sheol fell and all the leaders failed to report back, people just started leaving” Clint explains, “deliveries weren’t made, and little by little, everyone just left.” Reeling in what bites at the other end of her line, Nessie explains that the place is either sitting vacant nowadays or has been reclaimed by one of many groups. “So… Sun City is on the other island, and you both chose to stay here?” John asks, Clint and Nessie both shrugging their shoulders. “We take care of ourselves, we don’t need handouts” Nessie explains, “we snuck onto the island, we can sneak off if we wanted to.” Their conversation cut short, John is called for by Salem, who traverses nature’s fallen fruits of downed branches and leaves to introduce herself to the group’s resident fishermen. “Whatever these guys want, get for them” John explains, his orders to Salem halted with Nessie’s reminder that they don’t need handouts. “Either way, we’re gonna want them fighting for us” John begins again, interrupted by Clint this time around, the man voicing a consideration best left addressed ahead of time. “I don’t fight” Clint says, John and Salem both confused by the statement. “I don’t kill people” Clint explains, “unlike Vanessa, I was born and raised Catholic… I don’t kill people.” Chuckling to himself, John asks if Clint truly believes in his faith or if this is nothing more than a tactic to avoid gunfire. “I’ll walk into the war zone with my hands up” Clint replies, “even if they could kill me, Vanessa would get to them first.” Shrugging his shoulders, John leaves the conversation at that, making sure to double check that the woman is willing to go into fight against the pirates. “We chose this place because it didn’t have rules that would keep us from doing what we wanted” Nessie replies, “even at that… We’re not big fans on the people in charge of this place.” Taking them on their word, John retreats to the campsite, showing a belief in the people within to be ready to fight when the time has come, but finding hope in the outsider influence giving them more leverage than they had prior. | Head pressed against the limestone wall, Emilio stares off at the roof above his head, nothing to pass the time with other than to count the ridges in the material above. After a few minutes, the sound of the crowd begin to whir begins again, the fact of the next victim seemingly beginning to take effect. One cell after another beginning to pur with anticipation, Emilio finally captures the sight of the woman again, her pace stopping in front of his cell, putting him further on edge. Turning towards the man, the woman stares him down, Emilio pulling himself to his feet, having made peace with what is about to come. With a grunt, turns around one hundred and eighty degrees to Emilio’s dismay, walking for the cell in front of his and unlocking the cold, steel bars. Pleading for her life, the woman just across the dungeon from Emilio climbs to her feet, backing herself against the wall as if it were to swallow her into safety. Speechless, Emilio stands where he once sat, eyes unable to look away from the sights before him as the butcher grabs her next victim by the hair. Screaming for help, the woman remains shackled to the wall, the butcher ahead of her removing her machete from the sachel on her side before taking a swipe in nearly the same move. From the very top of the back of the her head to her jaw, the presentable side of the woman’s face slides off with a clean swipe. Half the skull dropping to the ground like a sack of wet meat, what remains is the cross-sectioned portion of what hid behind. Blood oozing from the corpse, the butcher stares down Emilio the entire time, the man left with only deep breaths to proceed. Allowing the body to drop, the butcher retrieves the woman’s face from the ground and returns her machete to her hip. Sickeningly, the butcher takes the face and bites down on her victim’s lip, allowing the fleshy remains to dangle from her teeth as she leaves the cell and walks out of the cellar. Unable to fully process what he had witnessed just yet, Emilio stands there feeling gross, his hand beginning to resume its efforts to pulling the spike holding his chains to the wall once again. | “How quickly can we move?” Jess asks, sharing the space around the desk huddled beside Heather and Dawson. “We can have them moving within the next three hours” Dawson replies, “they’re ready with firearms, but I don’t want them going while the sun is still out.” Conflicted, Heather begins to push the importance of covering the grounds. “If any of them are still alive, every inch of that island needs to be covered” Heather explains, Dawson looking in the direction of both Heather herself and Jess. “I gave them the guidelines, they chose to ignore them and got caught up in this mess” Dawson explains, “we’ll look for them, but my priority is clearing out the pirates.” “We’re the ones that proved how viable an attack was” Jess explains, not having been informed on the delay in which her group would be tended to. Suggesting that Dawson owes the group priority, Jess watches the man snap back, his strategic mind making room for a more hostile one. “I told your people that I wouldn’t go in to save their asses unless they covered half the land” Dawson explains, his tensions rising at the understanding of what he stands to lose. “Yet here I am, going in to save their asses!” Dawson shouts, “so if anything… You fucks owe me, now get with the plan or get the fuck out!” Calling out to get his friend under control, Ameil has his efforts cast aside, Dawson getting himself under control before continuing with the plan. “What’s the importance of clearing out all of them?” Heather asks, Jess having walked away from the desk, listening into the plan from afar. “If we leave any stone unturned, they’ll be likely to strike again at a later date” Ameil replies, “they took the land over by force, if they lost it… They’d just come back to regain it with force.” “Do we know who’s in charge?” Heather proceeds, Dawson hanging his head with a grunt. “I hate how little I can answer that question” Dawson mutters to himself, “of all the people we’ve sent in to do recon, all I’ve got is a name.” Silent, Heather allows her eyes to do to the talking, suggesting her patience for an answer. Looking up to Ameil, Dawson gets a nod from his friend before answering the question. “Her name is Dakota, but it sounds like people refer to her as the butcher” Dawson replies, “some sicko that likes to present herself by chopping the people she doesn’t like into pieces.” Tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek, Heather asks about how they figured out that last piece of information. “She found one of our spies a few months ago” Ameil replies, “sent a boat out to our coastline with his body all sliced up into literal bite-sized bits.” Eyes narrowing, Heather asks herself how someone could chop a head into bits, unaware she had asked herself the question aloud. “We wouldn’t know” Dawson replies, Ameil taking over to confess to Heather that they never found his head. Growing impatient, Jess asks how any of this information helps, a question which leaves Dawson and Ameil frustrated. “We have no idea what we’re walking into, or even who we’re looking for!” Dawson exclaims, “if we have to spend the next hour covering every base to make sure no stone is left unturned, that’s what we’re going to do!” “We have no hours to waste!” Jess shouts, “Emilio is already in captivity, our group is scattered and my husband disappeared into the woods with a suicide mission to execute!” Slamming his fist against the table, Dawson leaves the table, getting in Jessica’s face before confessing the harsh truth to her. “Your husband should’ve listened to me when I told him not to go forward with this war!” Dawson shouts, completely losing his composure and taking an honest approach. “As for your people, I don’t give a fuck about them!” Dawson explains, “I gave you all a choice to be stupid or smart, and you all chose to be stupid!” Rolling her eyes, Jess walks away from the man as he continues, refusing to stop himself just because she doesn’t want to hear the truth. “If Emilio was caught, he’s probably dead by now anyway… And he’s got no one to blame but himself!” Dawson shouts, “as for your husband, he shouldn’t have been such a fucking idiot!” Not willing to hear anymore, Jess turns around and throws her elbow into Dawson’s face, the community’s leader stumbling back until collapsing into the table and falling to the floor. Having had enough of this falling out, Ameil steps away from the table and directs Jess out. “We’re not putting up with shit like that here!” Ameil explains, “I don’t care where the fuck you go, just get the fuck out of this house!” Happy to oblige, Jess turns towards the door and steps into the rest of the community, slamming the door on her way out as Dawson pulls himself back up. “If she’s gonna be this ungrateful, we’re gonna toss her out on her ass!” Dawson mutters to Heather, the woman left to hang her head and nod, accepting the stakes laid out and directing those remaining towards the plan as originally stated. | Pacing around the camp, John observes the survivors skill improving with each attempt, those left without the undead to fear quickly removing the rust from their abilities. “It’s scary how easy it is to forget about the undead out here” Katie mutters, her shoulders pressed against a fence behind her, watching with glee at the group continue to improve. Opening his mouth to respond, John shares the same expression as Katie once the sound of Caruso hurrying towards them takes effect. “You need to hide!” the man exclaims, shoving the pair into a makeshift home as the remainder of the community suddenly turns quiet. “What the hell was that all about!?” Katie whispers, her question hushed by John, who peers through a small opening into the wider group. Walking into the property, three armed men survey the area, one directing his attention towards the lake whilst the other two look on in shock at how strange the survivors appear. “What’s going on here?” one of the guards inquires, the entire group falling to a hush, preferring to die keeping the secret than to live to sell John’s group out. “Do I need to ask again?” the guard proceeds, he and his fellow overseers looking around for anything out of the ordinary. In an attempt to intimidate those residing in the camp, the guard yet to speak removes his blade and runs it down the cheek of one survivor after another, sharing the stare of death. “I don’t want to have to ask ag-” the first guard calls out, stopping himself suddenly as his counterpart inquires of the reasoning. Without a word, the first guard clutches at the side of his neck, the fishing hook dug into his jugular suddenly torn out to allow the ground to be painted in his blood. The situation suddenly severe, the first guard staggers around, looking towards the man he entered with to find Nessie wrapping her fishing line around his throat. Pulling the man back, Nessie pushes herself against a tree, suffocating the man as the first guard removes his gun. Three bullets fired, Nessie allows the man being choked to take the gunfire, walking him forward before throwing him into the man firing off. Gun knocked from his hands, the guard falls to the ground with blood still spurting from his throat. Wiping her hands clean, Nessie finishes the job by stomping upon his throat, crushing his larynx beneath the sole of her boot. Emerging from the lake, Clint drags Nessie’s first victim by the ankles, his head soaked in water and face turned blue from being drowned. Walking away from her other two victims now stacked upon each other, Nessie retrieves each gun and returns them to Salem, who took for cover upon seeing the first guard. “Thanks” the woman replies, watching Nessie return to Clint and pick up her fishing line. Beginning for the pond, Nessie begins to slow down before eventually stopping before she can descend the slope, looking back to see John and Katie emerging from the home. “Are we ready yet?” Nessie asks, laughing to herself before continuing to the waterfront beside her brother. | The sound of roaring commencing again, Emilio takes his hands away from the spike, dropping them to his lap as the roaring persists. Within seconds, the figure returns to Emilio’s sights, the familiar face of the sickening butcher replaced with the sight of the towering skyscraper Emilio had been indoctrinated by prior. Without hesitation, the man refuses any theatrics in his process of unlocking Emilio’s cell, telling him to stand up and think twice before making any funny moves. Accepting the terms of his release, Emilio allows the man to free him of his restraints before walking wherever the man behind him requests to go. Being thrown death threats at every cell he walks past, Emilio emerges from the dungeon to a darkening sky, a community created in the middle of the the forest populated by nothing more than armed guards and lanky men with firearms straight out of a pirate movie. “You guys took the whole pirate joke seriously, huh?” Emilio jokes, the man beside the tower chuckling to himself as the familiar face tells Emilio to remain quiet. “You’ve got me locked up, can you blame me for wanting to crack a joke?” Emilio asks, glancing back towards the tower, who remains silent. “I know you don’t like me, or don’t wanna get attached, and that’s fine!” Emilio exclaims, “but don’t let that dislike keep you from enjoying whatever life you’ve got.” Ending his statement there, Emilio keeps his eyes forward, unaware of the tower glancing down at him behind, his expression almost admitting to himself of the point Emilio has. “You’ll be dead either by our hands or whatever we have you do” the tower replies, “I really don’t care how we get along, just do as you’re told and make it easier on yourself.” Led around the campsite, Emilio is brought to the steps of a rundown office building, doors removed from their hinges, allowing the first sight to anyone entering to be a mass of pitch black nothingness. “Go on” the man behind him exclaims, Emilio turning around to find the pair responsible for leading him there insist he go on without them. “Aren’t you my chaperons?” Emilio replies, the man expressing his disappointment for not being allowed to see what comes next. With a deep breath, Emilio readies himself for what is to come next, ultimately thinking of what he has to gain and lose from death. Comforted by whatever thoughts run through his head, Emilio takes the walk into the great beyond, the darkness consuming him completely until a voice beckons for his presence at once. “This way” the woman coos, Emilio led by the sound of her voice deeper into the abyss, the nothingness engulfing him almost comforting in a strange way. Continuing further and further into the unknown, Emilio begins to hear the voice equal out, as if its point of origin had finally been stumbled upon. Despite being unsure of how far into the building he has traveled, Emilio feels the sense of an opening beside him, uncertain of its existence but beckoned to explore deeper into it nonetheless. After a few moments, Emilio is congratulated for finding his way through the darkness, admitting that most people don’t usually make the journey. “It was a pretty easy walk” Emilio replies, his confidence present, not minding the reasons behind such a statement, instead insisting it was nothing impressive. “Do you happen to own a lightbulb, or is this more freaky shit?” Emilio proceeds, “I know you’re into biting lips, but I didn’t think that made you a vampire until now.” With a chuckle, the woman sat on the other end of darkness admits that she wishes there was a chance in which she could have gotten to know Emilio better. Amused, Emilio confesses that he appreciates the sentiment, but can’t see eye to eye. “I’m kind of into guys, sweetheart… But at least you have your abundance of faces” Emilio replies, his confidence hiding a deeper concern that the woman notices without hesitation. “You have all the makings of someone that makes jokes because you don’t want to show anyone that you’re scared” the woman explains, standing from her seat in the darkness and effortlessly strutting towards Emilio. “And you figured that all out because I mentioned how dark it is?” Emilio replies, his curiosity shot down by the woman at once, her gentle tone different from anything Emilio would have expected the machete-wielding lip-biter to have. “I have stronger senses for lack of a better term” the woman replies, finally standing face to face with the man before pulling a chain, allowing a small table lamp to light the room, revealing her cold, colorless eyes. “I was blinded as a child, so every other sense I have heightened to allow me to survive” the woman explains, running her finger down Emilio’s arm, proving her point by mentioning the goosebumps running down the length of his skin. “The world is only meant for the people that can adapt to its requests” the woman explains, “so those that cannot will perish, and those that can will thrive.” With a deep breath, Emilio asks the woman for the explanation behind this encounter. “If it’s because you wanna fuck me, cool… Just say that” Emilio explains, “but if there is something you’re trying to get off your chest, I’d suggest you just fucking say it before I get bored.” With a smile, the woman reaches up and places Emilio’s cheek in her hand, telling Emilio to stop playing games. “Boredom would require normal senses” the woman explains, “what you’re feeling is worry, which is why you didn’t even attempt to move your head when I reached up for you.” Her head tilting, the woman tells Emilio to explain what his interpretation of her words is intended to be. With a smile, Emilio responds by taking the woman’s had in his hands and planting a kiss on her, expression on her face changing into one of confusion. “It’s exactly what that kiss was, a distraction” Emilio replies, “all you’re trying to do is confuse me into buying whatever shit you try to sell next. So do us a favor, stop wasting our time and come out with it.” Shaking her head, the woman’s smile fades into one of disappointment, leaving Emilio no option other than to turn around and face the wall behind him, turning his back to the woman. “Fine, I’ll play along” Emilio replies, hands pressed to his hips as he turns to face the woman once more. “You’re telling me that some people are stuck in their ways and refuse to change with the world” Emilio replies, “you’re telling me the only people that get to live, do it on the world’s terms.” Clearing his throat, Emilio folds his hands together, assuring the woman that he knows exactly what she’s correlating this to. “Whatever camp you’ve got here is adapting to what the world wants and is changing with it” Emilio explains, “while your gripe with Sun City is that it’s refusing such a change and trying to bring about a world that used to be but no longer is.” With a smile, the woman nods, admitting that she was wrong to have doubted him. “I was a politician, sweetheart” Emilio replies, “the world may have ended with Donny in office, but I still had to ted from Texas… Breaking down the bullshit is what I live for.” Her head swaying from one side to another, the woman approaches Emilio again, explaining that she notices too much in him to let his talents go to waste without being given a chance. “Your group killed a camp full of some of my strongest men and women with a few knives” the woman explains, “if any of them came to my doorstep, I’d offer them the same chance.” Head hung with a smile on his face, Emilio asks the woman if she’s truly making the attempt he believes her to be making, “You want me, a former gubernatorial candidate in a country founded upon and firm in the belief of an everlasting democracy… To admit that democracy is dead?” “I’m sure you understand it died in what was once this country long before all of this happened” the woman replies, Emilio left with no response other than laughter. “When I swore into mayoral office, I took a duty to uphold the constitution of this country!” Emilio exclaims, “how am I supposed to do that in good faith?” “You’re not the same man you were back then where you stand, are you?” the woman asks, “and this is not the same world that it once was in this moment, is it?” Left speechless, Emilio looks towards the woman with the inability to give any definitive statement. “You once were a politician, Emilio” the woman exclaims, “so of all people, you should know just how corruptible a democracy truly is… especially in a world such as this.” Closing his eyes and hanging his head, Emilio approaches the woman, asking for a night to think about her offer. “Why would you need the night?” the woman proceeds to ask, Emilio admitting that it takes a moment to throw aside morals with something as important to him as this. “Haven’t you already thrown them aside?” the woman proceeds to ask, leaving Emilio confused. “What are you talking about?” Emilio asks, the woman smiling as she senses him look at her in a mixture of worry, doubt and anger. “Isn’t one of your morals as a politician to uphold the sanctity of life?” the woman asks, Emilio responding in kind. “Where did that go when you and your people made it known that they could take no chances?” the woman proceeds, Emilio taken back by the statement, speechless as to how she could have known that. “Do you think we’ve never been to the mainland, or are we just in complete isolation to you?” the woman asks, her face dropping into curiosity as Emilio stares on in fear. “How did you know about that?” Emilio asks, the woman biting her lip as she places a deviant smile upon her face. “How we’ve known about that isn’t of concern, it’s how we respond to it” the woman explains, “I didn’t believe it at first, but when I heard that the same group had boarded our shores, I was ecstatic.” With a sigh of joy, the woman explains that the group’s initiative to take no chances is exactly why she believes in their ability to adapt to the new world. “You can stand for something more than a forgotten relic of the past” the woman explains, “take control of your future by power rather than by the people.” Her hand held out, the woman asks Emilio to join her hand with his, wishing for he and his group to usher in a new world to live in, evolved into what’s necessary to thrive. “Join me in making something this world is desperately working to create!” the woman explains, her hand continuing to extend outwards, waiting on Emilio to make his decision. “Make it here, make it now, Emilio” the woman explains, “adapt or perish.” == Rise == Without a word, the supposed leader of the pirate grouping struts into the home Emilio finds himself held at gunpoint within, not a care for concern in his eyes. “We haven’t found anyone in the houses” the pirate suddenly exclaims, a sigh of relief escaping Emilio’s lungs capturing the towering man’s attention. “Are you happy about that?” the man asks, his eyes matching those an interrogating officer would stare towards a guilty victim with.
“Yeah, I am” Emilio responds, the man opposite him tilting his head to the side, asking him for a explanation. “Well if they’d come back between you finding me and now, it would have been a coincidence that would have made me look untrustworthy” Emilio replies, the tall, bulky figure responding with an ingenuine nod. A smile coming over his face, perhaps one strategically placed, Emilio inquires over what to call the skyscraper of a man before him other than ‘the pirate.’ “I hope you don’t mind” Emilio follows, “anything other than your name just sounds informal.” Pouring himself a glass of wine, the tall man responds with less than favorable words. “Keep it that way, I like informal” the figure retorts, an ingenuine nod coming from Emilio this time. “Are you going to let me go now?” Emilio asks, his hands bound tightly before him, the rope equally bound to a bar beneath the table. “Nope” the pirate replies, not caring to add any further input. “Are you going to let me go at all?” Emilio continues, the man turning around and taking the seat opposite his prisoner. “Your name is Emilio Vasquez, is that correct?” the man asks, Emilio answering in kind, doing much the same when his prior gubernatorial campaign is brought up. “You ran as a Democrat, is that true?” the pirate continues, an informal answer originating from the once uniformed man. “I take it you were a Republican?” Emilio proceeds, a deceitful smile sprouting over Emilio’s face as the grizzled statue in front of him glares through the corner of his eye. “Libertarian” the figure replies, Emilio shrugging his shoulders and slouching back into his seat. “Are you gonna hold me captive as some sort of role reversal now?” Emilio asks, “bully me for the big government you don’t agree with?” Clearing his throat, the pirate leans over the table, still remaining in his seat, though tall enough for the end of his jaw to nearly reach the halfway point of the table regardless. “My withholding of you from your group has nothing to do with your political beliefs” the strong voice replies, “all of that is dead and no longer matters.” His eyes closing together, Emilio’s head tilts back, inquiring for what the reasoning happens to be. “You’re valuable” the pirate replies, his answers always coming in brief, straight-forward points, something Emilio has little leverage to work with. “On a scale of gold rush to dog shit, how valuable are you considering me to be?” Emilio asks, the pirate squinting towards the distance before suddenly sporting an evil grin. “A politician” the pirate replies, his hands cupping together as Emilio begins to chuckle. “Easy to trade, easy to wanna kill” Emilio exclaims, “either way, no scuff marks on your shoes.” With a deep breath, Emilio remains slouched in his seat, altering his position to gain leverage against the binds wrapping themselves the lengths of his wrists. “So what is it that you want in return for my freedom?” Emilio asks, “a boat? The island we want? A goddamn coconut?” Without hesitation, the pirate cuts Emilio off, his hands gently grazing his coat as to unfurl it. “We want Sun City” the man replies, one eyebrow arching on Emilio’s face as he recites the demand verbatim. “We want Sun City, and we want all of it” the pirate replies, Emilio unable to keep himself from letting out a chuckle. “You’re not satisfied with this massive chunk of land?” Emilio asks, “this whole place is supposed to be twice the size of Sun City entirely!” “It’s not enough” the pirate replies, quick to intervene before Emilio can catch himself too far off track. “We want complete autocracy over the Long Island sound, and nothing less will suffice.” Rolling his eyes, Emilio tells the man hat his plan will never work, the pirate refusing to take Emilio’s words for gospel. Refusing to be told that he is anything less than correct, Emilio doubles down on his statement with points. “You want control, I get it… But that’s a lofty goal!” Emilio explains, “a plan that centers around that cannot have any variables at play to disrupt it.”Matching Emilio’s posture, the pirate crosses his arms and demands that Emilio plead his case. With a sigh, Emilio places his head in his restrained hands before going into detail. “If I’m your bait, you need to hope I don’t fall off the hook” Emilio explains, “I can escape, I can be smuggled out in the dead of night, I can get bit, I can be killed on accident. None of these are unavoidable.” Amused, the pirate tells Emilio that all of his statements come with the suggestion that the pirate’s men would not be able to oversee his care properly. “I know you can’t” Emilio replies, the sadistic smile on his face intriguing the pirate. “Why is that?” the brute inquires, the sun just beginning to rise over a new day. “Because you can’t even find my people” Emilio replies, “the ones that took out an entire camp’s worth of men last night.” His grin dissipating, the pirate pulls his firearm from beneath his coat pocket and aims at Emilio’s head, beginning to demand the truth from the man or otherwise face execution. “You made them scatter in different directions, you’ve still got some on the island” Emilio replies, “but you won’t kill me, because then you’ve got nothing to barter with.” Less fascinated by the suggestion that murder is nothing but a shot to oneselves foot, the pirate demands to know the true number of people stationed on the island. “Probably ten or so” Emilio returns, an egotistical confidence pooling over him as the pirate calls his bluff. It’s not a bluff just because you can’t train your men well enough” Emilio replies, “a few mysterious knocks at the back door and they just walk out one by one. Easy pickings.” Hands slamming against the table, the pirate storms onto the other side, revealing a blade and holding it against Emilio’s throat, who volunteers to tilt his head further back to give the pirate a cleaner kill. Failing to find amusement in Emilio’s defiance, the pirate is left to stare at the man, who insists his potential killer make a decision. “You’ve got something to gain and something to lose” Emilio explains, “as for me… I don’t really give a shit.” Staring at the satisfied face of his prisoner, the blade in the man’s hand begins to jolt, his hand unable to hold steady as his anger boils over. With a grunt, the pirate pulls the blade back into his pocket and demands the crew overseeing the interrogation locate the lost group. In formation, the armed crew leaves, the door closing on their way out, leaving only a frustrated pirate lead and and arrogant, smiling Emilio waiting for the next move. = Rise 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 3 onwards = Awoken by the sun peaking through the curtains, Heather rubs her eyes and makes her best attempt at keeping them open. Turning around to where she’d normally place her clothes, Heather’s eyes widen in surprise, an equally naked Ameil laying beside her. Now more awake than she originally intended to be, Heather glances across thee room to find Amy asleep on the couch, presumably having fallen asleep in the middle of reading. Finding enough power to climb out of bed, Heather takes the blanket resting over the back of the couch and places it over the sleeping youth, now on a mission to find her clothes. After a few minutes, Heather begins to hear Ameil suffer the process of having to wake up, his internal clock giving him a wake up call as soon as the sun comes into view. Hushing him down before he can get a chance to speak, Heather enters the kitchen and pours the man a cup of coffee. “I’ve heard that it’s supposed to help with hangovers or something” Heather explains, Ameil nodding in appreciation. A minute of uncomfortable silence following, Ameil explains that the night prior doesn’t have to be anything if Heather doesn’t want it to be. “I’m just not usually the ‘get drunk and one night stand’ kind of person” Heather replies, “it’s all so new to me.” Taking another swig of his drink, Ameil tells her it can roll in accordance with what she wants. With a nod, Heather puts a quick end to the line of dialogue, Ameil jokingly thanking her for not kicking him out first thing in the morning before throwing on his shirt. At first showing a smile, such expression quickly fades when a knock at the door originates, jolting Amy awake. “Make any new friends in the middle of the night?” Ameil asks, both he and Heather doing the smallest necessary to appear presentable. After a second set of knocks, Heather hurries for the door and pulls it open, both she and Ameil surprised by the sight awaiting them on the other side. “It seems we have a problem” Dawson exclaims, Jess stood behind him with her hair a mess, clothes dirty and her arms folded. | “Wake up!” Alicia exclaims, throwing a dusty pillow at Jack, who stammers onto his feet and wipes the dust from his back. “You could be a little nicer about it next time” Jack mutters, groggily stumbling out of the spacious den in the highest level of the home in pursuit of Alicia. “There’s no room for niceties” Alicia replies, “we’ve got much more pressing issues to tend to.” Meeting Lauren downstairs, Alicia welcomes in the sight off sunrise with the most notable issue to discuss. “What’s the plan?” Alicia asks, both Jack and Lauren laughing at the abruptness for which such an impactful discussion is introduced. First inquiring about the rest of the group, Jack begins to wonder whether or not it would be safer to go after finding them or figuring out a way off the island. “There’s no boats in the water from what I could see getting here” Lauren replies, “if there were a way off of this island, I’m sure plenty of the locals would’ve taken it by now.” Not intrigued by either line of dialogue, Jack presents a third option, one simply based after finding a way to get Emilio back. “John will have that covered” Alicia replies, writing off the choice as pointless, which immediately bewilders Jack. “How the fuck do you know that?” Jack proceeds, Alicia reminding the man of who John is. “The guy literally puts the group over his own family, I’m certain he’d rather die than give up on Emilio.” Challenging the woman’s faith, Jack asks Alicia what the situation would be if John were already dead. “If we’re going off your assumption, Emilio’s as good as dead if John’s a goner” Jack replies, Alicia staring at the man with an intense silence. “I’ve known John a lot longer than you have, Jack” Alicia replies, “he may have his issues morally, but he’ll never leave any of us behind as long as his head is clear.” Meeting her boyfriend on the same challenge, Lauren questions how clear John’s mind can truly be. “We just got blindsided by a group of locals a hell of a lot more informed on this island’s geography” Lauren explains, “who’s to say John’s thinking clearly right now?” Almost amused, Alicia feels the need to repeat the way John works to both parties, specifically targeting Lauren. “Everything about this situation is like home for John, which is why he led us here” Alicia explains, “if there’s any environment where John’s head is crystal clear, it would be here.” With a sigh, Jack tells Alicia to clear her own head and run the chances in her own head over every possibility. “Whatever decision we make, we leave the other two up for fate to decide” Jack explains, “are you certain John will live long enough to get Emilio back?” Before Alicia can reply, Lauren puts her hat in the ring favoring John. “I wanna question every possibility, but I’m no less confident that John can get Emilio back under the right circumstances” Lauren explains, leaving Alicia left. “John will get it done” Alicia replies, keeping her response brief and switching courses to her two remaining choices. “Find the others or get out of this place?” Alicia questions, all three looking towards each other as if they were waiting for anyone else to speak up first. | His boots dragging along the ground to avoid stepping on any dry leaves, John leads Salem and Angela through the forest with a hunting knife drawn and readied by his side. Cleverly pushing overhanging vines out of the way rather than breaking them, John takes his moment to strike, leaping to his feet and taking a random passerby into a chokehold, knife pressed against the man’s cheekbone. “Where’s the pirates?” John asks, Salem and Angela both removing themselves from cover and holding their guns to the man’s chest, threatning two slugs and a fatal throat slash. “What are you talking about?” the scared man asks, John rephrasing the question to a more understandable level. “Where is the leader of your community?” John asks, the man still unable to understand what is being asked of him. In frustration, John removes his knife and kicks the man forward, allowing the terrified figure to stumble into a tree and fall to the ground, guns still drawn in his direction. “Maybe you’ll answer more precisely without a knife to your throat” John explains, standing between the two woman as the man turns himself onto his back, looking up at his potential demise. “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about!” the man pleads, “I’m sorry for whatever I did! I was just trying to grow crops!” In tears, the man breaks down with the guns still drawn, all three survivors holding him hostage looking to each other in confusion. “Who the hell do you think we are?” John asks, the man glancing up in terror, explaining that he’s not sure, but is unwilling to take any chances. With a sigh, John kneels down, descending to eye level with the man, who takes the gesture as a sign of generosity. “We don’t know, nor do we care about what you’re growing” John replies, “our friend was taken by the people that run this island, and we want to get him back.” The tears subsiding, the worried expression quickly turns to one of jubilation. “You’re not with the figureheads?” the man asks, a still confused John responding in almost an animated fashion, “no.” With a smile, the man double checks with John specifically that he is an outsider, which John confirms. “You have no idea how incredible this is!” the man exclaims, only further dropping the trio into confusion, their efforts of hostile stealth having somehow developed into messiah-like saving. “I don’t know how incredible this is for you, nor do I want to” John replies, “I simply wanna know where our friend is being held.” “Held like prisoner held?” the man clarifies, exclaiming “Town Square!” upon his suspicions being affirmed. “What the fuck is Town Square and how can we get there?” John asks, the man cheerfully pointing him in the last direction they hoped to be pointed towards. “Let me guess” John exclaims, “it’s all the way in the middle of the island?” “Center of the island, right on the north-facing coast!” the man replies, exasperated with relief until he watches the posture change on the people standing over him. Turning to Salem, John gives the nod for her to steady her weapon, taking aim at the man’s head. “Why!?” the man shouts, John explaining that they can’t take the chance on the man turning to run towards the men in charge. “Why would we do that!?” the man asks, “why would we help the people that trapped us here!?” Almost immediately after the final syllable is exclaimed, John throws his hand out, shoving Salem’s gun away, a bullet ripping through the dirt to the fear of the man on the ground. “Repeat that last part!” John demands, watching their near-victim uncurl himself, having braced on instinct at the sound of the gun being fired. “The last part?” the man asks, John replying in affirmation. “Why would we help the people that trapped us here?” The man repeats, immediately prompting John to instruct Salem to hold any further fire. “What do you mean when you say they trapped you here?” John inquires, the relieved man simply instructing them to take a look at the coastline. “There aren’t any boats! There aren’t any people!” the man exclaims, “everyone’s hidden behind a shitload of forest!” “So anyone that’s not with the people in charge are prisoners?” Angela asks, the man still sprawled out on the ground confirming her accuracy. Pulling the man beside her away, Angela tells John to keep the man alive, a suggestion which John immediately hangs his head at. “If Jess can convince Sun City to enter the fight, we can get the locals to join in” Angela explains, “these people don’t want intrusion, they want liberation!” “What happened to taking no chances?” John asks, “I’m not a fan of what needs to be done, but we’re still alive because of it!” Her eyes rolling, Angela reminds John of how she happened to join the group, and how similar the situation here is. “We can’t liberate these people, Angela!” John replies, “we damn near failed at Sheol, and we don’t have the numbers to lose this time!” “You don’t need to lose anyone!” Angela replies, her voice carrying the weight of a woman determined to change an outlook, “let them fight for you!” Telling the woman to quiet down, John’s attention is stripped away by the man now having crawled to his knees, his insistance putting John in a strange predicament. “We’d rather die fighting for you than die living under them” the man explains, “we’d outnumber them easily, I’m telling you nothing but the truth!” Marching back to the man, John pulls his knife and holds it to the man’s throat, telling him that word cannot spread about this. “You’ll never get out unless it does!” the man explains, his hand pushing John’s knife away from his throat, confidently betting on the accuracy of his words with his life. “If they’ve got your guy, they want something in return for him” the man explains, “as long as they aren’t denied, they’ll keep him alive.” “What would they be using Emilio to barter for?” Salem begins to wonder, her curiosity not lasting long before John mentions the name of their own community. “They probably wanna use him in some way to gain control of Sun City” John explains, dusting off his knees and holding his hand out to the man. With hope, the former prisoner is now assisted to eye level with John once again. “These kinds of people only want power, and there’s nothing more powerful in the world now than position” John explains, glancing back to the two women awaiting further instruction. “We’ve got autocracy living next door to democracy” John explains, “there’s no way they’re any happy with that.” “They’ll have no choice if you can take the Square” the man replies, capturing John’s attention once more. “I’ve got a camp of almost one hundred” the man explains, “you can gut me in front of all of them if even one of them says ‘no’.” Looking off with his hands pressed to his hips, John shakes his head in fear that he’ll soon grow to regret the decision he knows is right to make, but is unsure of whether or not it will be beneficial. “Take us to your people” John commands, the man sporting a smile until John takes his arm, asking him one further question. “What’s your name?” John inquires, the man’s face lighting up. “Caruso” the man replies, leaving John to nod in the man’s direction, the signal for him to lead the way. | “His radio’s busted, it just stopped working once we got a small ways inland” Jess replies, a disgruntled Dawson shaking his head. “What do you expect we do for them?” Dawson inquires, “we’d be on unfamiliar land looking for people we’re not even sure aren’t dead yet.” His hands pressed against his knees, Ameil reminds Dawson of the fact that they have little gas left to use to begin with. Stopping the conversation before it can get any further, Heather questions what the pair meant by their latest statement. “Are we running out of gas?” Heather proceeds, stopping the uncomfortable silence in favor of asking the question outright. Without much better of an answer, Dawson points out that it has been four years since the world ended. “There’s no fuel being converted into gas anymore” Ameil explains, “any gas that was is going bad now.” “Why wouldn’t you mentioned something like that before?” Jess inquires, Dawson explaining to the pair that sometimes the best information as a leader is giving no information. “The second any of these guys realize there’s a shortage, everyone will want off before they can’t get out any longer” Dawson concludes, an aggravated Heather making it clear that the people deserve to know. “I’m not arguing that they don’t deserve to” Dawson replies, “I’m arguing that they shouldn’t.” Disappointed in his own inaction, Ameil explains that fearing the worst at a time like this is the reason the world collapsed in on itself in the first place. “Shit hit the fan and people went out looting, that led to riots which led to death” Dawson explains as if he were reading a checklist, “when death happened, they came back and shit got worse. Sun City doesn’t need that.” “Well how much does Sun City need that big piece of shit those bastards control?” Jess proceeds to ask, Dawson and Ameil explaining that it would be more favorable. “They have boats but more importantly, they have hydroelectric power” Ameil explains, “with that, I’m sure we can figure out something that could solve the problem.” “Which is?” Heather follows, Dawson shaking his head with his hands folded together. “I don’t know” the elected head of state replies, leaving Jess with only one side to vouch for. “That land is valuable… It doesn’t matter how, nor why.. It just matters that it is” Jess explains, “we need the people that our stuck on that island back… So it seems like we both have a lot riding on this being successful.” With a nod, Dawson tells Jess that he is already more than well enough aware of where this conversation is going, instead suggesting the woman convince him to find confidence in making such a call. “We nearly got halfway through the island, even on a redirection” Jess replies, “the ten of us cleared out a camp of seventy without a single casualty.” Believing this to be enough to prove her point, Jess takes a step back to allow Dawson to make his decision, only for Heather to interrupt at the final moment, one final declaration to make. “Not to mention whatever other things you can find buried beneath all that forest she keeps talking about” Heather replies, Dawson taking his eyes away from Heather and placing them upon Jess as if his glare was a targeted storm. | Entering the makeshift campsite he calls home, Caruso notices his people stare at the trio behind him with great caution, completely unsure of how to react. Glancing back, Caruso looks towards John to take his moment and make the offer he showed up intending to make. With a nod, John approaches the center of the community, offering a simple ‘hello’ to the people now solely dedicating their focus to. Shutting the door behind them, Alicia, Lauren and Jack venture into the deep, jungle-like world with expectations low. One by one, the survivors nod to the gravesite of the woman whose blood was spilled amongst the walls of the home the night prior, not needing to know the woman on a personal note to pay their respects to the woman they decided the fate of. “I don’t mean to alarm anyone with my presence” John explains, placing the hunting knife he once carried in his hand to the ground, placing the blade into the soft soil. “My name is John Callis, and I came to this island a few days ago on behalf of Sun City” the man exclaims, chirping from the crowd beginning upon the mention of such a community. His face illuminated by the warm glow of burning torches placed symmetrically along the walls, Emilio is dragged along the dirty floors and thrown into a cage, discarded of on the ground as the medieval-style architecture prison bars close and lock. Nothing else to look at, Emilio watches the man that led him to his holding cell chain himself to a wall and throw the key across the room. “That willing to spend time with me?” Emilio jokes, understanding the gesture to be a sort of precaution. “My people and I once managed to, by some higher power, liberate a town not too long ago similar to this” John explains, “I don’t know how it came to this, but we seem to be in position to attempt such a thing once again.” Chatter beginning to grow, John hides a smile in hopes of appearing stronger than he is, addressing the elephant in the room. “Obviously this needs to stay hushed, but we want you to fight with us” John exclaims, “all those will to do so, please move to the left.” Without hesitation, the entire camp groups together on the left, not a single person unwilling to help. With a smile, Caruso looks at John, who nods at the reassuring sight. “This is good” the man mutters to himself, a breath of relief following as Salem nods back, Angela nodding with a wide smile she refuses to allow hide. Looking back, John can no longer hold back a smile, muttering “this is very good” beneath his breath. == Rise == Cloaked in darkness, a flurry of feet advance through the muddled ground, kicking up dirt with each move forward as the mechanisms within their firearms clank together. Quick to find cover, the back wall of a mobile home becomes sanctuary for the fast feet, John lifting his finger to the lips of his dirt-covered face. “We take who we have to” John explains, keeping his words brief and hushed, allowing the finger he points at different people, and in different directions to do the speaking.
Emilio, Katie and Angela diverting course in one direction, Alicia, Jack, Lauren and Franklin divert course in the opposite. “Little noise, little issue” John buzzes, left with Jessica and Salem in the place they stood prior, the house behind them hosting a few voices heard off and on at brief intervals. With a nod, John watches Jess hurry off behind the cover of the back patio whilst John aspires the back stairs. Protruding his middle finger out with the ball of his knuckle, John taps on the backdoor once every few seconds, not enough to create a disruption, but enough to ensure the noise is noticed. From within the home, a grunt bellows out of the mouth of a disgruntled pirate, leaving his seat and warm meal behind in favor of getting to the source of the irksome tapping. Taking a step back, John places himself against the wall just as the door swings open, an angry man storming out to find nothing of interest. Within the same breath, John takes the man by the neck, covering his mouth as Jess emerges from cover, her gun raised at the man to ensure he thinks twice about pulling one over on them. “Are there other people in that house?” John asks, the man quietly shaking his head in refusal. His eyes leaving his victim, John glances towards the woods, Salem sat in a tree with her rifle aimed at the home. Through the sights, Salem can make out very little, but the little that she can spot is a pair of feet trailing to the opposite side of the house. Her weapon lowered, Salem extends her finger and moves it in a circular pattern, the signal forcing a sigh to leave John’s mouth. “All you had to do was tell the truth” John whispers, taking a knife from his pocket, pulling it from its holster and running the blade over the man’s throat, allowing his blood to spew into the mud. Letting the heavy corpse fall from his arms, John extends his finger and begins tapping on the ciding again, the next person hidden within noticing, the pattern continuing. Four bodies stacked upon each other in the backyard of the trailer, John moves inside, Jess and himself scouting out the home before taking a seat beside the window. In the trailer one side diverted towards, a light flickers on and off twice, John reciting the gesture himself as Jess does the same on the other side of the home. Continuing the practice, John clears the small neighborhood, the overgrowth left unattended in every direction gifting cover to the group of homes from anything on the other side. “Take what we need, not what we want” John explains, his group not intending to stay long. Doing as instructed, the majority of the groups disperses, Emilio staying behind to hold a conversation with John. “What are the chances anyone comes around to this place within the next twelve hours?” the man asks, John admitting that he has less of a clue than Emilio himself. “I don’t know how diligent these guys are, but since they didn’t find the last camp… I’m not holding my hopes out for them” John replies, an eager Emilio nodding along. “We’ve been on our feet all day, and this place has electricity at the very least” Emilio explains, “let’s at least get some sleep her tonight.” Hesitant at first, John slowly sways into favor as Emilio cites the promising sniper posts within the trees and the ability to put people on watch. “The foursome have already volunteered if it comes to it” Emilio adds, citing Alicia’s core as the first overseers. “We’ll split groups of four over every three hours” Emilio explains, “leave no stone unturned, gather all the dead together and use them for cover.” Thinking about it for the moment, John approves the move, making it known that they waste no longer than nine hours total. “We leave at sunrise, set stage three in motion, and work from there” John explains, he and Emilio separating upon the agreement. Spotting his wife in one of the windows, John approaches the trailer with a sigh of relief, entering through the front door and collapsing onto the couch. “We’re close” John exclaims, a smiling Jess telling the man that they’ve still yet to lose anyone. “Let’s not count our chickens yet” John replies, Jess pulling pillows out of pillow cases, using the covers as a makeshift bag. Calming down from the high of stealth attacking, Jess drops next to John, the man caressing his wife in his arms while her calm tone of voice brings up the eager truth they’ve yet to discuss. “What happens when they figure it out?” Jess asks, her soothing tonality making the worst case scenario sound less fatal than it actually would be. “We may not be clearing much, but we’re moving quickly” John replies, “that’s what matters.” Her eyes thinning, Jess compares their fight to that of beating the clock, prompting John to take a moment before confirming. “We just have to hope-” John explains, cut off by the sound of shouting in the rundown streets. “Who the fuck are you!?” the voice shouts, Emilio’s eyes widening as his hands lift into the air, signalling his surrender as a swarm of armed pirates enter the grounds. “What’s going on out there?” Jess asks, she and John dashing to their feet and hurrying for the door before escaping with the shadows. “We’re not here on bad terms!” Emilio replies, Katie and Salem both taking their positions from the windows, readying themselves behind the stocks of their rifles. “We were drifting on the water and found this island!” Emilio shouts, “we’ve been walking for days without knowing where we are!” Doing his best to keep up the charade, Emilio gets to his knees, three pirates storming him with guns and restraints, continuing to keep the leader focused on him. “Where are your group!?” the leader asks, Emilio explaining that they’ve dispersed. “We’re getting desperate, so I volunteered to stay back and wait for help!” Emilio replies, “they’ve been gone for a while now.” “What is he doing!?” Alicia whispers, hidden behind one of the countless mobile homes beside Lauren and Jack, who begin to realize the game Emilio is intent on playing. “He’s trying to convince them he’s alone” Jack mutters, Alicia looking towards the man before noticing the signal. “He’s buying us time to escape” Lauren explains, tapping the pair on the arm before hurrying into the darkness. “What about Frank!?” Alicia wonders, Jack and Lauren informing her that he’s on the other side of the camp with Emilio and Katie. “He’ll be fine, we’ll catch up with him later!” Jack exclaims, the woman hesitant to run off into the night before being left with little choice. Giving in, Alicia convinces herself that the only way to meet up with Franklin again is to survive long enough to do so, frustratedly escaping into the night alongside her only remaining lifelines. Towering over Emilio as his hands are tied behind his back, knees buried in the dirt, the lead pirate holds an automatic rifle by his hip, long brown beard sun dyed by the Long Island summer. Standing well over six and a half feet tall, the man glances towards the pile of bodies in the center, asking Emilio to sweet talk his explanation for them. “I don’t know what happened before we got here, but they were all like this… A few in every yard” Emilio replies, the pirate beginning to grin. “I pulled them all together in the event that anyone coming through would want to bury them” Emilio replies, the pirate not looking satisfied. “I’m aware of how bad it looks, but we have to be logical here” Emilio explains, “how the hell can my group of seven clear out an entire camp like this one?” Grin finally beginning to fade, the pirate begins to cautiously buy the excuse Emilio is selling, his analytical mind making room for the possibility of coincidence. “You have questions, I have answers” Emilio explains, making the deal cut and dry for the man towering before him, “I am more than willing to answer every question you have for me.” Bobbing his head along, the pirate glances throughout the camp, looking at each trailer to find a surprising lack of life. “Survey the area, take him to the cleanest house and have him wait for me” the pirate exclaims, his orders made clear to the guards as he inches closer to Emilio. The restrained man now forced to his feet, the pirate approaches Emilio and places his finger on each side of his chin. “I’m playing along for now, big guy” the armed man explains, making his message clear to Emilio, “if I smell a hint of unexplained bullshit, I’ll shoot to kill.” Clearing his throat, Emilio informs the man that he’ll have no reason to do so, those words returning the grin to the pirates face. “If he’s not restrained well when I get there, he’s not the only one that’ll risk eating a bullet tonight!” the pirate shouts, demanding a thorough investigation from his men and beginning his long night. = Rise 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 3 onwards = “Just give me the word” Franklin whispers, his sleeveless shirt allowing his shoulder blades to press against the cold wall while his gun aims upwards. “I’ll give it when I get it myself” Katie replies, taking her scope away from Emilio and following the guards with it, each few steps bringing the sight away from her current target and onto another one. “There’s too many for us to take” Katie whispers, “there might be fifty of them, maybe a little less, maybe a little more.” With a slow breath, Katie locks onto another target before spotting a reflection in a window just beside it. Hidden within the darkness, Salem leans into the scope, her eyes kept on Katie as her fingers run across her throat. Letting out a sigh of disappointment, Katie takes her eye away from the scope, looking at Emilio outside the window while Franklin asks what’s wrong. “Salem’s waving it off” Katie replies, Franklin’s eyes immediately squeezing shut as a puff of air escapes his lungs, the anger boiling to a point where all he wants to do is punch something. “We have to abort” Katie mutters, looking back into the scope and reciting Salem’s signal before throwing her own thumb backwards. Responding with a thumbs up, Salem disappears into the dark home, the unspoken signage giving Katie the clearance she needs to call Franklin back. “We have to go” Katie replies, Franklin left to ask about how to approach Emilio, an aggravated Katie only able to respond in disappointment. “I know what you’re feeling” Katie replies, concluding with, “I’m just as angry as you are” as she throws her rifle over her shoulder. Head dropping, Franklin immediately diverts course as instructed, following Katie through the backdoor and hurrying off into the woods, telling the man to remain light on his feet. “Where do we go from here?” Franklin calls out, his voice kept at a minimum, his feet crunching down on leaves and sticks louder than his question is voiced. Reaching out, Franklin takes Katie by the arm, telling her that they need to find a new route quickly. “This direction is just going to take us further inland!” Franklin explains, Katie left to glance back and forth, a look of genuine helplessness on her face. “We have to make do” Katie replies, Franklin taking in a deep breath before releasing his hold on Katie’s arm, pulling his gun back out and following the woman further in. Continuing to walk for a near hour, Katie and Franklin evade detection long enough to reach the coast. With relief, the pair meet the cold rip waves awaiting them, daring them to continue pushing forward through the impossible feat, a thousand different ways to drown with one wrong move looming. The cold metal of his gun pressing against her sweaty skin, Franklin nods towards the treeline at Katie, gathering whatever large sticks and rocks he can into one pile against a tree. “We wait for the morning and pick our spots” Franklin explains, finally having gathered enough to provide cover, adjusting his course to clearing out as much sand as possible. Having through well enough to bring a blanket, Franklin rests the soft cloth against the crowd and lays beside Katie upon it, both resting upon their sides facing the water. “Shovel the sand over the blanket” Franklin directs, folding the pair with the remaining cloth in a taco-like fashion before hiding beneath the layer of beach. “Now we stay quiet and bide our time” Franklin explains, knowing they wont be the only wanted figures upon the island come sunrise. | “Anyone in here?” John whispers, Angela mentioning the names of Salem and herself. “We’ve gotta go, get what you can!” John calls out, Salem holding the trio off for a moment as she slides the tips of her fingers across her throat. “What’s Emilio doing?” Angela asks, noticing the man talking too much for what he’s comfortable with. Sneaking his way into the home, John glances through the window, realizing the hurried pace of the man’s speech and hand movements. “He’s buying us time to escape” John exclaims, Angela’s eyes dropping as the sight of someone taking one for the team appears like a war flashback. “Let’s get out of here” Salem directs, throwing her rifle over her shoulder once the job is finished. “Where are we gonna go?” Angela asks, John left glancing back to his wife, nothing more than the thick overgrowth awaiting them. With a deep breath, John looks back towards the window, watching Emilio plead with the giant before him. “We go back the way we came” John replies, his eyes never leaving Emilio, Salem calling attention to the elephant in the room before doing anything else. “When do we come back for Emilio?” Salem asks, John continuing to look at the man sacrificing himself for the greater good. “I don’t know yet” John replies, waving both Salem and Angela out of the home, not breaking his stare until the weight of their bodies are no longer felt in the floor he stands upon. Hurrying through the woods, John gathers the foursome at the beach, ripping his boat from beneath the trees and hauling it into the water. “What are the chances Emilio makes it through the night?” Angela asks, John left to let his boots sink into the sand, catching his breath. Each breath puffing his chest out before each exhale deflates it like a balloon, John reminds Angela of where Emilio comes from. “The dude was a politician, and a damn good one at that” John explains, “if there’s anyone that can depend on their words for survival, it’d be him.” Helping Salem and his wife aboard, John turns to Angela with his hand held out, telling the woman to board the boat. “They’re not going to help him” Angela replies, an exhausted John asking her what she’s going on about. “Those guys at Sun City!” Angela replies, “they told you this was a death mission… Why would they help you after they were proven right?” His head shaking, John tells Angela that they made it far inland, far enough to give Dawson and Ameil hope, a suggestion which Angela refuses to take with anything more than a grain of salt. Head shaking, Angela refuses to board, immediately forcing John to throw his head back. “Angela, I’m not leaving you on this island” John replies, Angela’s eyebrows dropping at the response. “You won’t leave me on this island, but you’ll leave Emilio on it, right?” Angela asks, John’s head shaking, assuring her that this is all different. “You’re not surrounded by a few dozen pirates right now, are you?” John replies, “no, you’re not. You’re stubbornly refusing to get on a boat thinking you’ll survive by the faith off whatever the fuck you believe in doing what’s right.” Head shaking, Angela steps backwards, John throwing his hand out once more, his opposite hand clutching at the rope the boat is held back by. “Angela, get on the fucking boat!” John calls, the woman continuing to back away, eventually turning around and walking back towards the forest. “Ang-!” John shouts, cutting himself short and hitting the end of the boat, screaming “god damnit!” as he turns away. “She’s not gonna survive on this place alone” Salem exclaims, looking to John, defeated in such a way that he has no option other than to leave her as she wished to be left. Her teeth clenched, Salem looks away, staring at the sea before throwing herself into the water. “Where are you going!?” John calls out, watching Salem’s feet thrash through the waters, the woman returning to land. “If she dies out here, it won’t be alone!” Salem calls out, the night only getting worse as both John and Jess watch the two women walk off into the night. “What do we do?” Jess asks, looking at John, who hangs his head in complete silence. Calling out her husband’s name once more, Jess watches the soft and nearly hidden shake of his head refusing to believe any of this can be happening. “We all literally fell apart in the blink of an eye” John mutters to himself, his head continuing to shake as his eyes stare towards the waves ripping around his legs and reaching the shore. Taking in a deep breath, John holds the air in his lungs and finally turns back towards the woman, watching them walk off together, returning to the dense forest. Catching up to Angela, Salem tells her that she;ll go wherever Angela does, the woman having taken a stand for those she now calls family smiling with pride. “Wait!” John calls out from the sea, his elbow placed against the end of the boat only Jess remains an inhabitant of. Letting the deep breath out, John glances back towards his wife, letting go of the string that held the boat to shore and directing her to return to Sun City. “Tell Dawson and Ameil what happened, do what you can to convince them to come out for us” John explains, Jess shaking her head as the boat drifts out with the waves. “I’m not just leaving you here!” Jess replies, John continuing to refuse to anything else. “I can’t run from this, Jess… You know that” John replies, “our people are trapped on an island I got them to, so I cannot just drive off to safety leaving them stuck with the mess I made.” “John, you will die out here” Jess replies, having crawled over to John’s end of the boat, the space between them slowly drifting farther apart. “If I don’t make it back, or we never meet again, just tell-” John stops, a pain-filled smile on his face accompanying a lone tear down his cheek. “Just tell Amy that her dad fought for her” John continues, “and that a day never went by without me loving her and her mother with everything I had to give.” Looking for the words, all Jess can mutter is her husband’s name in a whimper, watching the man turn around and return to shore, leaving the woman in the boat, the single soul responsible for carrying on their word. Her head hung, Jess pushes herself to her feet, slowly walking to the wheel before turning back, watching John finally catch up to the women. Stopping to look back, John watches Jess act in the same fashion, the pair sharing a departing smile, as filled with hurt as it is, with each other before moving onward. The key turned in the ignition, Jess pushes the boat forward, the motor revving in the silent night, ripping through the waves as John turns back, continuing the fight the way he always has. | Pushing forward through nature, Alicia, Lauren and Jack soon discover how different each tree in the forest appears. Nothing else to look at, the trio begin to notice the abnormalities they had always mistreated, every twist each root takes, every change in direction their branches present, every piece of its identity changed from one tree to the next. Her hands stretched out, Alicia stops Jack and Lauren mid-step, almost missing the sight they quickly grow to appreciate. “There” Alicia says, keeping her orders simple and brief, turning towards a decrepit, yet intact home. “Someone live here?” Jack asks himself, Alicia and Lauren climbing the stairs towards the modest, slightly elevated back patio. The ball of her knuckles tapping on the glass, Alicia glances inside whilst Lauren conceals her firearm behind her thigh. “I don’t see any movement inside” Alicia calls out, her hand pressing against the handle of the door and pushing it around. Feeling give, Alicia treats the refusal to open as a simple degrading of the track the door is placed upon. Her hands gripping at whatever she can gain leverage on, Alicia plants her feet against the splintering wood and pushes forward, gradually forcing the door open further and further. “We’ve got a cellar over here” Jack points out, pulling himself over the patio bannister and joining the women inside the home. “It’s in decent condition” Lauren proclaims, “if this place has been abandoned, it’s only been for a few months at most.” Marvelling at everything left behind, Alicia takes interest in all that had once been owned, now left unclaimed and left to rot. “It may not be anything fancy, but it’s better than anything we’ve been sleeping on for the last few nights” Jack exclaims, taking a sofa cushion and smacking the dust off of it. “Look around, we might find something useful” Alicia orders, continuing to sift through everything in the home, a feeling deep down telling her to look everything over. Her teeth clenched, Alicia steps back, her feet taking her away from a regular bookshelf and placing her in the center of the main room. Slowly doing a turn, Alicia takes in the sight of everything, the worry deep within her only building the more she stares. “Look for anything out of the ordinary” Alicia exclaims, “I don’t want us thinking anything that could later be proven wrong.” Getting the worst feeling from being centered in the room, Alicia turns towards the main hallway, the windows on each side of her giving her a glimpse into the outside, the view of nothing more than what she had been experiencing all night on full display. Her face only partially illuminated by the moonlight overhead peering through the windows, Alicia ascends a staircase near the back, the second level leaving her nearly as uneasy as the first. Left hand cautiously extended into the darkness, Alicia keeps her right placed upon her belt, the handle to a blade tucked into the hole in her pants within a fingertips’ reach at all times. Her foot pushing the door to a plain bathroom open, Alicia peers through the crack to reveal nothing more than a raggedy old curtain greeting her inside. Steadily marching on, Alicia moves to the master bedroom, her foot attempting to push the door in, but failing to succeed when the door refuses to budge. Tightening her grip on the weapon, Alicia takes a few steps back before charging forward, her foot caving the wood inward and forcing the door open. Practically falling apart, the chunk of wood slowly glides inwards, the creek its hinges make unable to sound anymore depressing. Satisfied with the sights inside, Alicia moves on, her toe pressing against the next door ever so slightly, feeling the give just behind it for reassurance. With held breath, Alicia pushes the door in, watching the egress drift into the room with a faint hum. Intent on moving forward, Alicia quickly turns back to her latest opening, her eyes locking onto something reflecting the moonlight in the corner of the room. Seemingly left as an office of sorts, the room sports bare walls, broken shelves and a tattered desk-chair combination. Void of any old computers, paper documents or anything else of interest, the desk sits barron, nothing more than a picture of a mother and her daughter in a frame left atop the surface. “We’re not here to hurt anyone” Lauren explains, her voice calm and her hands raised beside her head, Jack stood beside her in a similar fashion. “We were passing through the woods, found this place just as it is and came to catch our breath” Lauren explains, her boyfriend and herself held at gunpoint by a woman with frayed, gray hair armed with a double-pump shotgun. “You lie” the woman replies, her eyes, one a regular brown color while the other appears foggy and fake, joining with the remainder of her attention in its fixation on those before her. “You’ve come for me for what I’ve done” the woman proclaims, speaking in the tongue of a woman having lost her mind. “We haven’t come for anybody, ma’am” Lauren replies, attempting to calm the woman down from her anxiety-driven high long enough to approach her without worry. “You’ve come for me for what I’ve done to my daughter, I know you have!” the woman cries out, her declaration beginning to sound more like the rambling of a woman amidst a trail of fear. “You want to punish me for the sins that I have committed!” the woman continues,, Lauren assuring the woman that the claims she makes are anything but the truth. “You don’t get to punish me” the woman explains, lifting the barrel of the shotgun to her chin. “Only my maker gets that honor” the woman exclaims, pulling the trigger and bursting her skull into fragments with a single round. Ducking for cover, Jack holds lauren behind him as the blood from the woman’s splattered brains dash the ceiling and drop like rain. Behind the collapses body of the former homeowner, Alicia cautiously removes herself from her brace, dagger in hand and ready to be used. Silent, Jack and Lauren stand up once more, Alicia doing the same as they stand on each side of the fresh corpse. “We’re going back to taking no chances” Alicia exclaims, her eyes lifting from the body and onto her fellow survivors, Jack and Lauren both nodding along with such a suggestion. Remaining quiet, Jack is the first to depart, exiting the home and looking for a shovel as Alicia and Lauren both take the body by each end and drag it through the back. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
September 2022
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