/ 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 ==
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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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