S5, E11 | Earmarked for Execution

“We didn't come from back in town, we came from Vancouver” Sebastian responds, watching the dismissive shake of the overweight woman’s head refuse him the belief he’d hoped his claim would be met with. “I don’t believe you” Darla replies, giving her husband a side-eye the second he speaks up, attempting to remind her to keep an open mind.

Tucking her hands into the pockets of her jean jacket, the middle-aged woman sits on a grey chair halfway between the chesterfield and grandfather clocks that occupy either side of the living room. “We were only passing through here on the way to Calgary” Sebastian continues to double down, not straying from the story he knows to be true even if it’s hard for an outsider to believe, “we’ve been following the train tracks since we left Kelowna around four or five days ago.”

“Are you and your friends stupid then?” Darla inquires, comforted enough in the restraints that tie her prisoner’s hands behind his back as he sits in the folding chair directly opposite herself. “What would you be doing driving from Vancouver to Calgary for? Any family or friends you people may have out there died a long time ago” the woman clarifies, stopping her line of thought once she finds Sebastian’s head shaking, not wanting to waste her breath uttering pointlessness.

“We’re not going out there for people” the unlawfully imprisoned survivor reiterates, “some of the people in our group know of a place out there where we can plant crops and raise cattle when the weather gets better.” Having become used to interrupting the man after each comment that’s made, Darla’s pattern-stopping silence offers an opening for the prisoner to continue lending context to his claim, attempting to lend credit to his story with each new layer of detail he provides.

“We’d initially been staying in a camp on Vancouver Island. Some bad people showed up, a fight broke out, and we ended up on a boat to the city” Sebastian continues, splitting his attention between the seated woman across from him and the husband that stands beside her with his arms crossed. “We moved around a little bit, found a camp and stayed there for a day or two” he continues, “we’d all talked about going east to Calgary by then, so when it came to making a call, that was the place to go.”

“And you didn’t think about how unsafe it was?” Darla questions back, shaking her head with a loss to the rationale behind the group’s motivation. “It doesn’t matter. We have to get there before the weather gets warm so we can get ready for when the warm weather does come” Sebastian answers, looking toward the parlour’s window and at the deep shade of blue that the setting sun leaves the sky a shade of, “we’re about four or five days away from there at our current rate.”

“And you’re just prepared to-?” Don inquires, stopping when he hears the click of his wife’s tongue, turning to find her body turned toward him and a displeased expression held in the direction of his own. Falling silent, the man allows his eyes to take toward the carpeted floor whilst his wife resumes her end of the conversation. “What about those people we left behind? Those people in that home?” Darla questions, “who are they?”

“They’re people you don’t want to be on the wrong side of” Sebastian answers, providing the woman with a vague response for the first time since being seated for an interrogation. “Why is that? Are they cops? Are they army generals?” Darla queries, shrugging her shoulders with straightened lips, not taking the man’s claim seriously.

“No. For one of them, you’ve taken her father. For two of the others, you’ve taken people they’ve known since they escaped Los Angeles together” Sebastian responds, watching the woman’s eyes drift away with the least intrigued glare she can manifest. “What about the last one?” Don questions aloud, keeping track of the people he was informed of, only registering three claims in what’s presented to him by the group’s Canadian leader, “you only mentioned three.”

“The last one is the one you have to look out for. He’s the reason you’re not safe here” Sebastian responds, triggering an amused chuckle from the woman that spills out of the top of her jeans. “Are we talking about that cripple with the big stick?” Darla questions aloud, humoured at the notion he’d be capable of presenting them with a downfall of any sort, “what threat would he pose that the other, more-capable people out there wouldn’t?”

“The fact that he’s probably the only thing that keeps us unified” Sebastian answers without missing a beat, looking his captor in the eyes with a slightly lowered tone, issuing the proper gravity behind his claims, “the fact that you’ve also kidnapped his girlfriend won’t bode very well for you either.”

Using the nail on her left hand’s middle finger to scratch at her eyebrow, Darla reacts to her hostage’s claims with a sarcastic nod as she steps out of her chair. “Pete, bring this man back to the basement and make sure his friends are behaving themselves” she orders, attempting to walk past her prisoner before hearing his voice as it whispers up toward her, preventing the community’s apparent leader from leaving without a warning.

“If you want us out of your hair, all you have to do is send us on our way” Sebastian explains, locking eyes with the lady who refuses to find it within herself to take his claims seriously, “but if you don’t do that, no one here can help you from making a terrible mistake.” Her straight face remaining intact for a few moments, all that the denim-clad survivor reacts with is a feigned smile before she quietly steps past, venturing toward the rest of her home without a rebuttal.

= RISE and REVOLT is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series from Season 1 onwards belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 =

Having been spared from being grabbed by those who’d taken off with their friends by their scoping of the home, those that await for nightfall to bring about a sign as to where their assailants camp out reside within it, seeking it for refuge. Staring directly at the front door with his rebar staff in tow, the lone wanderer remains unwilling to rest until those that had been taken from them are returned safely and unharmed, his eyes refusing to close for anything longer than a blink.

“We’re going to get her back” Marta states, having seated herself to the man’s left side for so long that her presence had eventually become forgotten by the man whose mind is clouded by thoughts of violent rage and ultimate vengeance. Without uttering a word at first, Lou sets his attention upon the protege beside him and just stares, his expression having gone unchanged at the sound of her voice.

“We’re going to get them back” he corrects, a conclusion that the young woman had already come to, but had allowed to settle elsewhere in favour of specific reassurance. “You’re right. But I know that there’s one person on your mind more than all the others right now. That’s the person I want you to know that we’re going to get back” Marta replies, watching her mentor’s face set forward once more, fixating on the front door that falling raindrops can be heard through.

“It’s alright to admit it. I’m thinking about my dad more than I’m thinking about anyone else right now” the woman confesses, failing to draw her mentor’s sights back toward her, though she’s aware that his ears are caught by her claims. “It doesn’t matter what kind of rough patch you guys are going through. You don’t love her any less than you did a week ago” Marta doubles down, staring at the side of the man’s distant face, “we all have our reason for going on, and she’s yours.”

“I let her get caught” Lou responds, wasting little time past his protege’s comments to address the situation as a whole, a self-tormenting whisper carrying his claims into the air. “If I had been out there, I could’ve done something. I could’ve put up a fight, or I could’ve kept them from at least taking her” he continues, speaking through the vehement shake of the head that his protege rejoinders with in quick succession.

“I don’t know what would have happened to me or the others, but I know I could’ve at least stopped them from grabbing Ally” Lou further declares, hearing his friend’s voice argue against such a conclusion without paying it any reasonable mind. “That’s-” Marta begins, stopped immediately as her mentor’s face swings toward her, filled with assurance in the words that he speaks and in the beliefs that he wields like weaponry in the heat of battle.

“I will never forgive myself if something happens to her, Marta” Lou interjects, staring through eyes of vindication at the woman whose voice had been forced into silence, a quietude that permeates through the room. Holding his blank stare through the palpable hush, the mentor refuses to back his visage from the eyes of his protege, who sees an unrelenting determination in the man’s stare beyond any expression she’d ever seen from him before.

“Across the river!” Terry exclaims, shouting aloud the information that the pair of residents within the home had been waiting for. “There’s a few lights and some smoke lifting up from across the river a bit south!” Jules doubles down, the declaration immediately lighting a fire in the eyes of the staff-wielding stalwart, who carries a stare launched with the weight of a societal menace as he springs from the ground, watched on by his protege, who worriedly takes off to follow in his lead.

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“Where are they?” Darla shouts aloud, already prepared to leap through the open doors of the minivan that kicks up dirt and mud along the freshly-cleared roadways of the small town’s southern half. “They’re outside the front gate, ma’am” a man in a blue flannel replies, waiting for the woman to disembark the vehicle before joining alongside her, his rifle carried in the same manner as the four other men who accompany her.

“You said they have hostages?” the woman questions, shifting with the weight of the large vehicle before climbing down once it reaches a stop, marching forward with a purpose once her feet touch down upon solid ground. “They have three. Randy, Jimmy, and Lucas” the soldier replies, hearing his commander drop the name of the one soul he holds no certainty over, “I haven’t heard of Perry. He’s not with them.”

Pressing her lips together, Darla steps away from her guard’s side and carries on toward the vehicular intrusion that prevents the outsiders from being granted free entry to their well-guarded compound. With flaring nostrils, the woman takes ownership of the rifle that is handed to her by one of her subordinates, approaching one side of the chain-link gate they’d fixed between the stacks of automobiles and pressing her back against the accumulation of crushed shells.

“I’ve been told you have three hostages” the woman’s voice proclaims, her face held toward the direction of the community’s entrance, but she refuses to speak from out of her makeshift cover. “You’ve been well informed” Lou replies, standing ahead of his peers, but closest to Marta, with his rebar staff in hand, each of his friends holding the barrels of a rifle to the back of their captives, whose hands are tied behind their backs and knees are embraced by the ground.

“What’s your play here?” Darla questions back after nothing more than a few seconds, looking into the distance as she’s met with silence at first, not brought upon by hesitancy, but rather the shrug from the man she speaks with. “There’s not much of a play here. I’m willing to jot this all down to being one massive misunderstanding” Lou answers, curling his bottom lip outward as he stares in the community’s direction, “you give me back my friends and I’ll give you back yours.”

“We’re missing four people. From what I’ve gathered, you only have three hostages” Darla replies, opting not to waste much time between each comment, “and even if it were that simple, we have all ten of your friends. It seems like a pretty bad trade to give up ten people for four.” Smirking, Lou stares at the ground for a moment as he calmly lets the tip of his staff rest against the ground, humoured by the idea it seems his adversary has cultivated.

“Are you under the belief that I’m here to make a deal with you?” the handicapped traveller wonders aloud, holding a deep squint in the direction of the community’s entrance. “You took my friends hostage, and now I’ve taken yours hostage. As far as I’m concerned, you’re lucky to even still be alive” Lou doubles down, commanding an attention from the woman that she hadn’t expected to give.

“This isn’t a negotiation. This is me giving you a chance to keep your little operation here intact” the man continues, the beard and overgrown hair that he adorns now matching the mannerisms he presents to the group that stands in his way. “I don’t take kindly to threats” Darla interjects, only for her comment to immediately be addressed by the man opposite her walls.

“Oh, lady. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea here. That isn’t a threat, that is a warning” Lou responds, lifting his dagger off the ground as he approaches the compound’s entrance. “Do you know what kind of shit we have seen out here? Can you even imagine what we’ve done along the way?” the man continues, gradually drawing closer to the community’s entrance with his bo staff draped upon his shoulder.

“I don’t need to know what you’ve done or where you’ve been to know what the situation looks like right now” Darla answers, speaking with such speed that she fails to notice the footsteps drawing nearer to her. “Here’s how this goes... You have three people to trade, and we have ten. If you want your friends back, you’ll need to come up with more” the community’s shot-caller explains, leaning further into the wall of vehicles as she stares into the distance, “I’d suggest you-”

Pressing his nose through the gaps in the gate’s structure, Lou bellows out a long, one-note whistle that immediately captures the middle aged woman’s focus, the drawn out tune dropping one note before continuing on for as long as the original and ceasing entirely. “I’ll do you one better than that” the one-armed stalwart replies, having stepped far enough ahead of his group to the point where only he and those around the woman can hear what’s being calmly spoken.

“I’ll offer you a piece of advice that my friends gave to people who weren’t willing to listen back on Vancouver Island” Lou draws onward, standing with the slightest lean as he stares Darla in the eyes, her figure having approached that of her visitors now that his proximity makes it impossible to hide.

“You can settle in here and wrangle up all you can, but it won’t make much of a difference. At some point, all it takes is one bad harvest” the man explains, allowed to speak through the silence that the woman provides him. “No amount of guns, or protection from the dead, or protection from the living, or fuel, or water, or safety will change what happens when people start starving” Lou assures, a conclusion that is as difficult to argue against as it always has been.

“I’ll go out on a limb here and assume that you’re the person in charge. What do you think will happen when people can’t feed their families or themselves? What happens when hunger is a bigger threat than the dead ever could be?” Lou queries, watching the slightest shift in Darla’s face takes shape, though he can’t decipher what emotion is represented in it.

“I’m sure you already know that we were trying to get to Calgary before you so rudely interrupted us, but maybe it’s a good thing that you did” the man proposes, lifting his eyebrows in a show of changed outlooks. Turning back toward his group, Lou allows his staff’s end to press into the ground with every step as if it were a cane, returning to the side of those that he’d walked up to the front gates alongside.

“It’s dawned on me over the last few days that we might be better off building a community instead of a little home in the field. Our odds of making our trip to Calgary worthwhile might be better off that way” Lou explains, looking toward Jules with a smirk as he does so. “If we go run off and get you whatever supplies you need, it’ll only be a matter of time before you run out” the stalwart continues, turning back toward the woman once he’s returned to his remaining friends.

“We’ve brought two sides together into one before, there’s no reason we can’t pull off the same kind of magic again” Lou quips, settling on presenting his case with as much certainty as he can manage, aware that exchanging supplies worth seven lives is not feasible. “Come with us. Let’s put this brief spat in the past and build something no zombie or person can tear down” the spokesman for his miniscule allegiance remarks, failing to come up with anything more to barter with.

Curling her lip, Darla glances off to the side with a squint before shaking her head, displeased with the proposal. “I find it disappointing for someone who carries himself like an intellectual to present his case with such oversight” the woman proclaims, making it clear to those on the other side of the fortification that her mind has been left unconvinced.

“You imply that a bad harvest and starvation is a situation uniquely possible for us as if it weren’t just as likely that you’d be the ones to come up dry in Calgary come summertime” Darla proceeds, shaking her head with a shrug, “besides, you’ve got no more security out there than we have here. Couple that with the fact that such a massive convoy could never make it in a reasonable enough time to not be met with hardship and your offer just comes off like a complete joke.”

Looking toward the ground, Lou’s face takes on a sorrowful dissatisfaction that’s retained throughout the silence that succeeds his proposition’s declination. “Since it seems like you only came here with that crappy offer, I’d suggest you and your friends go out and scavenge up whatever you can before-” Darla carries on, waving off the survivors to do her bidding before being cut off, her response shot down by the man who cares not to hear it any longer.

“I didn’t come here to make you that offer because I thought it was a good one” Lou remarks, his added emphasis prompting the woman across the obstruction from him to roll her eyes and react exhaustedly at his continuation. Still looking at the sand-covered pavement, the handicapped spokesman pulls in a heavy breath before lifting his rebar staff off the ground, letting its weight settle in his hand as an intense anger within him converts itself into an uncomfortable serenity.

“I came here with that offer ‘cause it’s the only one that you’re going to get” Lou clarifies, puckering his lips as he loses himself deep in thought, the refusal he was met with reminding him of the stakes that are up for grabs. Specifically centring his mind upon Ally, a profoundly wicked and vile train of thought surrounds him, eating his better judgement alive and instead, directing his end of the interaction down a much darker and rather inhumane path.

“If you think poorly of the choice I’ve given you, so be it. It’s your call, but you’re going to want to accept it. You’re going to want to pack up everything you can carry and join us because it’s far better than the alternative” Lou continues, raising his voice only to the point where he knows every set of ears within his near distance can overhear.

Letting his breathing steady, the well-journeyed traveller embraces a heinous mindset that he hasn’t experienced since before he’d lost an arm. Returning to the fixation that had embattled him before he’d even left the state of California, the stalwart reaches a headspace so brutal that, the last time it had been visited, a school had been forced to burn amidst an inferno that ended the lives of two people and rendered him a cripple.

“Ma’am, you’re either going to come with us to Calgary... or I’m going to slaughter you” Lou proclaims, looking the woman in the eyes as his face takes on an unwavering maliciousness that surprises even the survivors on his side of the altercation. Keeping his voice at the same pitch, the staff-wielding slayer steps back toward the subject of his aggressions with his rebar weapon in tow, slowly placing one foot in front of the other as he speaks.

“I’ll lure every last zombie in this entire place directly to you. Then, I’ll syphon every last drop of gas out of every single car you have and use it all to light every acre of your sorry-ass beachfront property on fire” Lou asserts, dismissing the lone attempt that Marta makes at calling out his name as his advancement persists.

“Then I’ll strip every last one of your men of their guns and brutalise them until there’s nothing left” Lou continues, again refusing to give into the sound of his name being uttered from the lips of his protege. “And I’ll make sure to keep you alive until the very end so you can see the result of the choice you made. So help me god, I’ll show you such unimaginable evil that you will beg me to kill you just to make it stop” the man furthers, growing more aggressive with each syllable uttered.

“LOU!” Marta barks for a third time, unable to break through to the man whilst equally incapable of doing anything, her responsibility still set on holding her hostage at bay. “And when I kill you, it will not be quick. I will wait days just to prove to you that you made the wrong choice. For every second you keep breathing, I’ll make you admit just that same thing out loud for my own damn pleasure” Lou draws nearer, spit flying from his lip as he breaks out into a yell.

“Allow me to make myself clear right this instant. None of that will be necessary, and it damn sure won’t be out of mercy...” Lou howls, disregarding Marta’s fourth attempt at talking him down from the enraged ledge that he tempts the fate of gravity with by declaring his intentions beyond any doubt, “...I will butcher you and all of your loved ones like cattle because I FUCKING CHOOSE TO!”

No longer sharing any further space than the chain link gate that divides them from each other, Lou and Darla’s faces exist within as few inches as the obstruction will allow them to. Though she’d now made a fifth attempt at calling out her mentor’s name, Marta’s efforts to quell the handicapped traveller’s anger find themselves successful by default, her irate friend’s transgressions having been fully expelled.

Refusing to back down, Lou’s mean mug holds firm upon Darla for the near-minute that follows his declaration, only pulling away when the man himself retreats for the six souls occupying the space behind him. With a bitter look of disgust at the disrespect and foul behaviour she is responded to with, the community’s leader grimaces at the man whose demeanour she’s taken aback by, forcing her to look away as her own frustration takes charge of her internal thought.

Not fearing those he leaves behind, Lou turns his back fully toward the compound he’s issued his warning to, returning to a set of angry faces knelt along the ground and a trio of awe-stricken visages that wield the weapons keeping them there. “Screw the deal, you can have your people back” Darla calls out, prompting the man across the lot from her to stop in his tracks.

With a curious glint in his eye, Lou’s face fails to wear the conviction that would otherwise be sported upon earning his way, gauging the situation as accurately as his peers do, believing something about the comment to be amiss. “You give us back the three men you have on the ground right there and we’ll give you back your friends... all ten of them” Darla proclaims, drawing surprised and bewildered stares from her own men at the offer.

Noticing the out of place look in Lou’s face, the three free members of his the community’s adversaries begin to mimic the puzzlement of their spokesman. Pressing his eyelids closely together, Jules’ sights wander past the lone wanderer whilst Terry’s head turns slightly toward his left side. With a slight part in her lips, Marta finds the off kilter posture in the woman who speaks as not befitting for a proposition as clear cut as it’s made out to appear.

“We haven’t killed any of you, however. From what I can see, it doesn’t seem like you’ll be bringing Percy back alive and well...” Darla carries on, the set up for what she suggests immediately bringing a smile upon Lou’s face that doesn’t appear present in any of his friends. “...For that reason, somebody needs to be punished for that.”

“What kind of punishment are we talking about? You gonna lock one of us away like you’re probably doing with our friends?” Jules challenges, watching the community’s spokeswoman shake her head almost immediately. Not offering a word to accompany her refusing gesture, Darla watches as Lou’s head lowers toward the ground, his rebar-carrying hand placing itself upon his hip as her lips part to speak.

“Execution” the heavy-set commander answers, raising looks of concern out of three of the four survivors, the last of whom continues to wear the smile that accompanies the turn of his head back in the direction he’d just departed from. “One of you has to die for your crimes...” Darla declares, doubling down on her proclamation as her eyes lock with Lou, his humoured grin carrying itself in the woman’s direction as the community leader’s finger points in his direction.

“...and it has to be you, Lou” Darla concludes, immediately sparking a verbal uproar over the three survivors that remain in support of their friend, refusing the woman any chance at assuming they’d capitulate to her demand. “I will make it quick and painless, but it must happen if you want to be reunited with your friends” the woman shouts, disavowing the outrage that’s thrown in her direction by the young members of the rival faction.

Not uttering even one word, Lou simply returns his amused visage to the woman who calls for his death, unphased by the proposition she’s given them. “I will give you twenty four hours to make your decision... But no more than that!” Darla concludes, stepping away from the gate that her enemies of war stand on the opposite side of, climbing into the van that had brought her to the scene as it prepares to depart, “either Lou here will die, or all of your friends will!”

Given no other option but to remain in their places, the four foes to the community that had remained quiet through the outbreak until now keep their presence felt against the heads of their prisoners. Shaking his head as he watches the commander ride off into the larger, quartered-off neighbourhood from afar, Lou stares into the night without giving consideration to the issue, his mind already having been made on how to respond long before this evening became marked as meant to be his last.

== RISE and REVOLT ==