S5, E7 | Almost Christmas

“How much longer are we gonna sit around and wait for them to play nice?” Jules questions aloud, seated a lone metre away from the fireplace that the group’s luxury condo meeting ground is fitted with. “Unless we’re all gonna pack up our shit and run off into the night, it seems like that’ll be up to them” Elsie responds, standing beside a door to the flat’s mountain-overseeing porch with her arms crossed.

“Ally’s not gonna do that to them. Leaving them behind isn’t on the table” Lou assures, a conclusion that the blonde woman with the tomahawk had already come to. “Exactly. So we might as well not even bother asking that question, Jules” Elsie finishes, a statement that prompts the subject of it to bow his head.

“What if we try extending an olive branch to them? Try doing something that shows them we’re making an effort?” Josie proposes, looking around the smaller-than-usual assortment of survivors. “That’s what we’re doing. It’s the only reason why they’re here and not out getting slaughtered with their friends” Terry responds, a conclusion that he finds a challenge from across the room.

“I don’t think they see it that way” Adrian responds, standing beside his daughter, who occupies the other side of the roaring fireplace from Jules, “the only reason they’re here is because Ally is too. This is less about them than it is about her, and they know that.”

“Well, what more do they want? What more can we even do?” Jules queries, watching as the father’s eyes relocate toward his person, “they’re lucky to even be alive. Even if it is ‘cause of Ally, they’ve got a free ticket away from danger. Ain’t that good enough?” Though he asks the rest of the group, his eyes inevitably focus in on the one-armed stalwart across the living room from him, reaching the handicapped trooper before the conclusion of his comment can even be made.

“It’s obviously not good enough. Unfortunately, not much else is” Josie replies, leaning back into the wall she sits against, “I don’t know what else we can do, though.” For a few seconds, the group remains within a palpable sensation of silence, one that provokes an effort of deep thought to come over those looking for answers in places where not much of one can be found.

“If we-?” Elsie begins to ask, suggesting the first thing that comes into her mind before finding herself interrupted by the tapping of knuckles that interjects. “Alright, which one of you assholes ordered takeout?” Terry chirps, standing up the moment that he watches Lou rise off the chair he’d taken, pointing his finger at the limited few that stay seated, his attempt at making a joke of himself finding minimal success, “come on, my cooking was not that bad.”

Leaving behind a few smirks and amused shakes of heads, the American leadership follows his longtime friend to the door and peers past once it opens. “I know my presence probably isn’t appreciated right now, but I come in peace” Darnell remarks, immediately lifting his hands in surrender as he calmly states his case, not making a move unless asked to.

“What do you want?” Terry immediately questions, assuming control of the conversation that Lou doesn’t immediately appear interested in running. “To start getting all of our groups to get the hell along. That’d be nice” Darnell answers, watching as the doubtful roll of the American’s eyes initially react to him.

“You’re here, aren’t you? Was us bringing you along not good enough for those asshole friends of yours?” Terry retorts, watching as the well-intentioned survivor wears neither a face of grievance or pleasure. “I’m not here to start trouble. I don’t like this ‘you versus us’ bullshit anymore than it looks like you do” Darnell confesses, taking a step back before placing his hands out at either side, “I’m here alone. This isn’t a game, I just came here to talk.”

“Then start talking” Terry quickly rejoinders, only to watch Lou turn back and glance at him from over his shoulder, the silent look that he receives from the handicapped man at the door gesturing for him to lower the guard they’ve raised. Not needing to take much of an effort in deciphering what was meant, the confrontational survivor bows his head and steps back, allowing his friend to open the door the rest of the way and allow the Canadian opposition entry.

“Look, I get why they’re being pricks about this. I don’t like it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it” Darnell admits, stepping into the room with his hands held out, showing those within that he comes in peace. “Then tell us why. I get that it was cruel to cut the dude open, but it’s not like we didn’t have a reason for it” Elsie remarks, helping her peers embrace the discussion at hand by approaching it calmly and without judgement.

“Because Val deserved better than that” Darnell answers politely, stopping his progression just before he can reach the centre of the room, addressing those that surround him. “Look, most of us only knew the dude for a little bit, but it’s less about how close we were to him and more about who he was” the visitor continues, pausing as Lou and Terry return to their original places within the parlour.

“When the artists forced us to run off, Val always made sure that he and some others went back and reclaimed the bodies of whoever we lost” the man continues, allowed to speak without interruption by a room hesitant to cut him off. “He thought it was respectful. We were still alive, and the people that weren’t were lost so we could keep going” Darnell proceeds, gradually allowing his eyes to take from one side of the room to the other, “he thought they all deserved a proper burial for that.”

Watching a few different expressions come over those he speaks with, Darnell’s eyes gloss over the lone wanderer who sits beside him, his face taking toward the carpeted floor. “If I’m being honest, I’m just as upset as the others are. The only difference is that I don’t see a reason to keep holding onto that grudge” the man confesses, only re-earning the line of sight from Josie and Adrian, others remaining averted elsewhere.

“Of all the people that deserved that kind of respect, it should’ve been Val” the well-spoken guest concludes, finally reclaiming Terry and Elsie’s eyes as he does so, “it doesn’t sit well with us that the only person who didn’t get it... was him.” Remaining held upon the floor, Marta, Lou, and Jules keep their sights held elsewhere before the latter-most man speaks up, offering a mindset that diverts from that of the man who’d approached them.

“I don’t really want to be ‘that guy’ here, but this whole conversation is ridiculous” Jules proclaims, gaining the unobstructed line of sight from all but one of the room’s occupants. “If it was one of us who died, you and your group would care just as much about how we feel as we care about the way you do” the man doubles down, uttering a comment that doesn’t sit well with most of the collective group, “besides, it’s hard to give a damn when two of your friends are so damn difficult to like.”

“I get it. Dawn’s a hardass and Christina’s a pessimist. I don’t have the brightest outlook on many things either, and I know we’re not easy to get along with” Darnell confesses, stopping as he looks back to the man he addresses. “Bro, I know so little about you that I’m not even sure which one of those girls is which” Jules interrupts, a remark that most of the group finds reason in, “I don’t even know your name! We barely even know you people, how do you expect us to care!?”

“My name is Darnell, and I don’t expect you to care” the man quickly answers, refusing to raise his voice in an effort of ensuring the peace is kept. “That doesn’t mean I don’t expect you to try” Darnell adds on, watching as Jules’ expression lights up as if he’s eager to defend himself, only to prevent him from doing so, “I get that some of you think bringing us along is enough, but that’s not how the others see it. I only expect you to try because it’s you people that want us to get along.”

“And you don’t!?” Jules quickly rebuttals, putting aside the prior defence he’d wished to utter in favour of presenting the question aloud, the rest of the room going as quiet as the tension that lingers is. “I, personally, would like to get along with the people I have to work with to survive” Darnell counters, allowed to continue speaking through the greenlight that the other side of the conversation’s patience acts as, “the others, though, will take a little bit more convincing.”

“Well, when the others decide to be grateful that we didn’t ditch their asses in the cold... You let us know” Jules replies, allowing his displeasure with the other half of the travelling survivors to present itself stronger than his will to iron out the kinks in their new union. “Go ahead and let them know that we’re leaving this place when the sun comes up” the American wanderer remarks, climbing off of his seat beside the fireplace, “if they don’t want to get along, they can stay here.”

Irritated by the feeling that the conversation did little to service the discovery of a solution, Jules marches for the room’s exit, leaving without another word as the rest of his friends stay behind, sitting within the presence of the calm visitor.

= 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 =

“I’d rather not be anywhere near those assholes right now” Jenn confesses, taking a trolley by the handles and pushing it along the asphalt parking lot that Courtney joins her on. “Yeah, but we’re staying on different sides of the building” the paramotorist replies, carrying a plastic crate full of canned goods over her shoulder as the wheels on the metal bin rattle against the ground well after the sun has gone down.

“Being in the same building as them is bad enough. Just thinking about that pissy-faced prick aggravates me” a foul expression-wearing Jenn confesses, closing in on the trio of vehicles that her fellow survivors had managed to narrow their options to. “We appreciate your help anyway” Courtney replies, watching as her boyfriend approaches the parked cars from the opposite direction, carrying a jerry can in his non-dominant hand, “waiting for morning to do this didn’t sit well with us.”

Passing the woman alongside her a half-smile, Jenn begins to pull at the rolling trolley and slowly guide it to a stop, leaving it stationed beside the open trunk of a green hatchback from the nineties. “We’ll have enough gas to make it to the station tomorrow. I’m not sure how much more fuel we’ll burn carrying all the people and supplies that we’ve got, but hopefully it won’t be a lot” Sebastian murmurs, setting the can beside the vehicle it will inevitably be emptied into.

“That works for me” Courtney responds, grunting as she tilts her head to the side, transferring the crate of metal cans into the hands of her boyfriend, who quickly lowers it into the vehicle’s trunk. “We have settled on leaving tomorrow, right?” Sebastian inquires, holding his breath so as not to be too loud when placing down the container of supplies, “it’d probably be best not to fill the cars up now if we’ll be staying any longer.”

“That’s what I’m hearing, but it looks like you can ask the others that yourself” Jenn murmurs, prompting the couple to look toward the building their peers reside within, watching as the staff-wielding resident of it approaches. “Heading somewhere, Lou?” Sebastian inquires, looking past the vehicle’s shell to find the man in question marching forward with his face held toward the ground.

“Yeah. I’m hiking back down the mountain” the young man responds, surprising those that he nears closer to, “I’m hoping there’s a chance we can bury the hatchet with the assholes Val was leading. I need to go back and grab his corpse in order to find out, though.”

“The sun just set, like, an hour ago. Are you sure it’ll be safe to head down there?” Courtney responds, yet to strike upon the concern that rests upon her boyfriend’s mind. “Not only that, but how long has it been since you slept?” Sebastian doubles down, watching as the young survivor shakes his head with widened eyes, “wouldn’t it be better if you got some sleep before we went out tomorrow?”

“It’d probably be better if I could sleep at all, let alone through the night” Lou corrects, tucking his weapon beneath his arm as he leans against the hatchback, “we’ve got to find an olive branch to give these people. Letting them give Val a proper burial might be that olive branch.”

“Are you sure?” Jenn challenges, tilting her chin toward the ground despite keeping her eyes glued to the man that stands before her, “sure enough to take on the danger that comes with this little adventure of yours?” Shaking his head in refusal, Lou pulls in a deep breath before actually replying, conceding to the uncertainty that lingers over his decision. “Not at all” the man admits, looking back at the brunette with a shrug, “but, if it pays off, I’ll be glad I took it.”

“In that case, let me do you a favour” Sebastian replies, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and retrieving a key, one that flies through the air and into the survivor’s hand. “You’re more useful to us in one piece than you are in several pieces. Save yourself some of the danger and take that Jeep over there” the man remarks, gesturing toward the coverless Wrangler near the end of the trio.

“Are you sure we have enough gas for this?” Lou queries back, only to watch Sebastian chuckle and shake his head in refusal. “I’ve got no idea, but I’m sure it’ll get you there and back at the very least” the man who’d tossed him the keys responds, “if there’s a chance this will work out, I’m willing to sacrifice some gas to make that happen.”

“You’re not in much of a position to refuse it anyway” Jenn remarks, leaning against the handlebars of the trolley as she looks at her friend, “how else are you gonna manage to carry the dude’s body all the way back up here?”

“Probably with her” Courtney quickly answers, pointing toward the direction in which Lou had come from, the first member of the four survivors to take notice of the young woman that follows after her mentor. “I know you’re going off to grab Val’s corpse, Lou” Marta proclaims, having taken notice of the man’s absence whilst being left in the dark over the reasoning just as the rest of the group had been, “you may not have told us, but you better not have thought I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Go get some sleep, Marta. Sebastian’s letting me take the Jeep he rounded up, I’ll be fine on my own” Lou replies, only for the young woman to dismiss his advice exactly as he’d expected her to. “Good. In that case, we shouldn’t need to worry about being gone for very long” the protege retorts, smirking toward her mentor as she passes him, approaching the Wrangler with sights set on the gas canister near it, “besides, if my sleep mattered, you wouldn’t have woken me up for training at sunrise.”

“Marta, I’ll-” Lou attempts to rejoinder, only to be kept from continuing any further by the voice of his friend a few paces off to the side, her amused tone catching his ear enough to silence him momentarily. “Don’t bother fighting the girl, Lou. You know she’s not letting you run off alone” Courtney interjects, locking eyes with the survivor as he takes notice of the paramotorist’s smile, aware of the hopes that the older woman holds in what such a journey could bring on.

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Looking deep into the depths of night whilst occupying the well-lit patio of an empty condo, Jules keeps to himself and braces against the bite of the winter air before glancing over his shoulder at the sound of a second presence. Opening the door to the room he’d assumed the porch had belonged to, Terry looks in to find his friend standing on his lonesome, taking in the sights of the snow-covered hills their building sits at the bottom of with a bottle of vodka in hand.

“Damn, where the fuck did you find booze at?” the visiting man inquires, hearing his friend’s quiet chuckle react just a second before watching the air that rests ahead be filled with the breath that’s expelled. “Check the drawers, man. This place has got a ton of shit, it’s just that nobody decided to check it out until now” Jules laughs, hearing the footsteps grow closer before they join him on the exposed terrace.

Allowing the bottle to fall into the possession of friendly hands, Jules clears his throat before pulling away from the bannister, having spent a long enough period of time on his feet to justify taking one of the patio’s empty chairs. “I hope you know that you weren’t wrong back there” Terry remarks, a conclusion that his pal had already come to many hours before, “they wouldn’t have cared if it was one of us.”

“I know, bro” Jules reassures, letting out a long sigh as he leans back in his seat, embracing the cold and rigid straw material that makes up the chair as if it were within the warmth of the Caribbean. Nodding, Terry takes his swig from the bottle before remaining in silence for another few seconds, staring into the cloudy sky that he can just barely make out the direction of moonlight from behind.

“We still gotta give it a shot, bro” the American group’s leader doubles down, again voicing a conclusion that his friend had made peace with prior to his arrival. “I know, bro” Jules answers again, closing his eyes and leaning back with arms leant over each side of the seat, allowed to continue like that for a few further seconds before Terry turns back, setting sights upon the man he’d known longer than almost anyone else.

“At least we’re not the only black dudes around anymore” the liquor-wielding survivor declares, lifting the bottle to his lips whilst hearing his pal’s laughter give way through the quiet air. “We’ve got ourselves a fellow brother, brother” Jules jokes, his eyelids still pressed together and face still taken toward the terrace’s roof, “we’re really making the most out of our civil rights, ain’t we?”

“On god, bro” Terry assures, lifting the bottle toward the air before downing yet another swig, drinking to the proclamation they take a momentary solace in. Nodding, Jules allows his eyes to open after he takes in a heavy breath, freeing it all at once before setting his sights upon the mostly-featureless hill their side of the condo faces.

Pressing his hip against the porch’s side, Terry lets the bottle come to a gentle rest on a nearby table, his arms crossing as his body remains directed toward his friend, whose eyes gaze beyond the Canadian mountains. “What’s got you up so late at night?” the American leader queries, knowing there to be a reason for his fellow survivor’s purposeful need to quarter himself off beyond the altercation they’d had with their less-than-friendly acquaintances earlier in the day.

For a moment, Jules doesn’t reply, his silent stare into the wilderness being all that is shown to the man that presents him the question. “I just want it to matter, bro” he finally confesses, gently swaying his head from one side to the other as he looks ahead, keeping his sights held firmly upon the rolling hills just barely beyond his reach, “we’ve got nobody but each other now. No family. Not aunts or uncles. No mom, no sisters, no brothers.”

Falling to the ground, Terry’s eyes retain the curiosity they had held when he’d first entered the flat, his ears keeping cemented upon the words that leave his friends lips. “I don’t know where they are. We’re not gonna see them ever again, I know that for sure. Maybe they’re dead, maybe they’re alive, who knows? Not me” Jules explains, sitting with the weight that this realisation leaves him to experience, its mass pressing upon his chest and making it harder to breathe easily.

“Everyone we grew up with is gone. Whether they’re dead or not, we’re never gonna see them again” the man continues, wearing a deeper squint in his eyes whilst the man he speaks to continues to look at the ground that supports his feet. “We’ve only got each other. Once we go, that’s it. Once we start losing each other, that’s it” Jules explains, his voice lowering the slightest amount, barely able to be noticed, “and we’ve still made it this far without them. We still got here without them.”

With his arms still locked together and body still pressing into the bannister, Terry’s face carries upward, taking his sight alongside it as his eyes fall upon the man opposite him. As if it were on instinct, Jules pulls his attention away from the hills and returns it to his friend, who patiently waits for him. “I just want to believe there’s a reason we’ve gotten as far as we have, y’know?” the seated survivor wonders aloud, trying his best to present a grin, “I want it to matter.”

Feeling both the pride of accomplishment and the daunting emptiness that comes with such vapid loneliness, Terry’s face lightens itself by lifting the corners of his mouth upward. Not having anything to respond with, the man who’d taken it upon himself to serve his friends when neither Lou or Jenn could now wears that pleasure as a badge of honour and that void as a caution for what could always be around the corner, kept from dwelling on it for too long as engines roar in the near distance.

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Having deconstructed a tent to use its nylon covering as a tarp to wrap Val’s body in, Lou and Marta retreat from the again-vacated campground under the power of their vehicle, riding out the uneven terrain that its wheels drive over. “That was easier than I thought it was going to be” the man’s protege murmurs, resting her forearm against the open window of her passenger’s door as she steadies herself in the rocking seat, fighting against the motion of their ride.

“It was a hell of a lot easier without having to hike all the way down here and do it myself, that’s for sure” Lou jokes, having rested his rebar staff just beside the corpse that their Wrangler now acts as a hearse for. Looking to his right, the man lets his eyes momentarily fall upon Marta before taking back to the road, a genuine smile left to overcome his face at the sight of her.

“Thanks for coming along to help” the man remarks, prompting the woman to look in his direction with an equally satisfied visage. “I was happy to” Marta assures, watching the man nod back to her as he attempts to navigate the forest they traverse, nearing the open road they hope to be embraced by the steadiness of.

Tapping her fingers along the passenger door’s exterior, the young woman follows whatever environment falls beneath the guidance of their headlights, allowing the space between herself and her mentor to go without comments for the time being. After a few minutes of jolting back and forth with the weight of the roughed-up Wrangler, the pair find their journey coming back around to the even, snow-covered, slightly-icy terrain that they’d pulled off of to enter the forest.

Not needing to talk in order to enjoy the company of the man she’d grown close to over the prior few weeks and months, Marta simply gazes around at the quiet earth that surrounds them, absent of people and traffic in ways that it never had been before the dead came back around. Inevitably being stolen by the display that sits upon the vehicle’s centre console, the young woman’s eyes take a brief glance at the time and date that sits along the top of the screen.

Forced to look back once more, Marta leans in her chair and inspects the numbers and letters for herself, surprised to discover what they signify. “Is this your way of telling me you want to turn on the radio?” Lou inquires, humoured by the woman’s sudden fixation on the display, smiling at her surprised visage.

“Is that the right date!?” the woman wonders aloud, pointing at the time that reads the day just beside it as she turns to face the driver, “is it really Christmas Eve!?” With a quick read of the numbers presented to him, Lou pouts his lip and shrugs back, not really caring one way or another. “I’m pretty sure it is” the man answers, splitting his line of sight between the road ahead and the woman that accompanies him, “even if it weren’t, there’s nothing to keep us from pretending it is.”

Locking eyes with the woman whose hair blows back from the Canadian winter air, Lou shares a similarly jubilant simper to the one that’s dawned upon his protege’s face, their joy taken simply from being within each other’s good graces. “Happy almost Christmas then, Lou” Marta remarks, watching as her mentor laughs, nodding as he keeps the vehicle as close to the side of the road as he’s meant to, unable to see the lines that had been painted for him to follow now that they’re beneath snow.

“And happy almost Christmas to you, Marta” Lou replies, watching as the woman leans back in her chair with a smile, lifting her left hand to swipe the strands of hair that fly back and tuck them behind her ear. Implying that their destination rests only a few minutes away, the GPS directs the single-handed driver the way in which he’d wished to go, essentially presenting the pair with a countdown of the time they have left together.

“What are you gonna do when we get to Calgary?” Marta inquires, looking toward the man whose eyes keep upon the road whenever possible, taking notice of their journey’s near-end and wanting to spend it talking as they normally would when out hunting. “That’s a good question. I’m not really sure, to be honest” Lou answers, struggling to find many answers worth offering, “what about you?”

Watching the world pass them by through the windowless opening in her door, Marta shrugs at the question, having just as little to offer as her mentor had seconds prior. “I don’t really know either” she confesses, leaning her head against the leather upholstery as she catches the faintest glimpse of the ski lodge in the near distance, saddled atop the mountain and seated beneath the cloud-covered moonlight.

“When I was a little girl, I always thought I’d just do the thing that seemed like what every girl did. Find a husband, pop out a few kids, live in a neighbourhood with a white picket fence and wait for them to go to college” she continues, staring out at the world as her mentor passes a glance toward her. “But none of that stuff can really happen anymore. So, I’m pretty much in the same boat as everyone else” Marta concludes, ending her hope for the future on a rather sombre note.

“Why not?” Lou questions back, intrigued by the approach that the young woman beside him has taken, finding it oddly pessimistic for her to hold. “Why would I want that anymore?” Marta challenges, looking toward her mentor’s direction with a humoured gleam in her eye, “look at the world we’re in. Even if it was possible to have a family in it, where exactly would I raise a kid in it?”

“Why not Calgary? That’s the whole reason we’re going there” Lou responds, shaking his head as his eyes meet his protege’s own for a brief moment, eventually being reclaimed by the turn that he slows the Wrangler down to take. “Maybe other people will stay out in these big cities fighting the dead and looting for scraps, but that doesn’t mean we have to” the man assures, dismissing that life as not being of his interest, “we’re going somewhere worth building a life in.”

“How realistic is that, though?” Marta questions back, ceasing the tapping of her fingers on the outer side of the door in favour of pressing them against the shell, holding on firmly as the car pulls onto the road that leads up Silver Star Mountain. “What happens if the place gets swarmed by zombies? What happens if people like those freaks with the red paint come to take it from us?” the woman questions, requesting answers that had yet to be demanded of them to come up with.

“We’ll build fences. We’ll build walls and close off our place from outsiders” Lou replies without much thought, defaulting to the same answer that most would give the question. “Maybe we’ll find more people along the way. Maybe what we’ll build will be less of a small little camp we all live in and more of a town” he continues, speaking a much grander vision into existence for his protege to metaphorically chew on.

“A town? You want to build a post-apocalyptic utopia, Lou?” Marta questions back with a smile, amused by the prophecy that her mentor presents him with. “Yeah, why not?” Lou retorts, slowing the speed at which they drive in order to more-cleanly navigate the slopes that they ascend, “it’s perfect. You’ll be able to start your family, and I’ll be able to figure out whatever the hell I’m meant to do there. Everyone else can live the dream they’d always imagined before shit fell apart.”

“I see, I see. The grand vision of the almighty silver slayer is to craft a new society, from what it appears” Marta jokes, sharing a laugh with the man that her attention soon falls solely upon, a slight squint carried in her eyes, “so, what will you call this immaculate utopia, Lou?” Still wearing the smile that his protege’s presence had brought upon his face, the driver lets the muscles in his face ease as he focused on the pathway they’d yet to finish travelling, losing himself in thought.

For a moment, Lou lets his eyes take toward the lodge that draws closer and closer with each metre they journey through, inspecting the variety of colours in their differently-painted composition as he considers the inquiry. “Well... There was this one place in Greece that I remember learning about back in history class” the driver responds, turning the final corner that separates them from the condo the rest of their group resides in, “I don’t know why, but the name just stuck with-”

“Watch out!” Marta exclaims, holding onto whatever aspects of the car her limbs already attach to as a pair of headlights shoot toward their direction, rapidly closing in the distance between themselves and the Wrangler. Acting on instinct, Lou slams his foot against the brake pad and turns the steering wheel as far to the right as his limb’s limitations will allow him, sparking his protege from bearing the brunt of whatever collision appears to be inevitable.

Having thought to do the same, the driver of the vehicle that hurries forward violently crashes into the back half of the returning Wrangler, violently jolting both Lou and Marta in their seats, the sharp right that the driver had taken now turned into a tailspin in the opposite direction. With a horrifying screech, the cars pull apart as quickly as they had made contact, the rubber of their tires grinding against the parking lot’s surprisingly clean surface for as long as the rides drag on.

Coming to a rest, Marta lowers her guard as quickly as she’d naturally raised it, her brace lessening once the Wrangler comes to a complete stop. “Get them! Get them! Fucking get them!” Terry exclaims, running after Jules whilst Sonya and Jenn follow their lead, gradually joined by the members of their camp that hurry into the front lot.

“Are you okay!?” Marta hurriedly asks, hearing her mentor’s groans and taking the wincing that his visage locks into as a suggestion otherwise. “Back up! Back the fuck up!” Dawn proclaims, aiming her pistol through the shattered window of the driver’s side door, preventing Jules from continuing to chase after them with the threat she wields.

“I’m fine” Lou groans, letting his hand fall from the steering wheel and take toward his neck, the muscles within it having been pulled by the aggressive jolt their ride had been forced to spin with. “Are you fucking crazy!?” Jules howls, lifting his hands in surrender as Dawn attempts to press her foot against the gas pedal, failing to receive a response from the stalled hatchback she’d attempted to steal.

“Back the fuck up!” the thief exclaims once more, prompting Terry to lift his hands in a display of peace just as Jules had, hissing as quietly as he can toward the woman who’d attempted to tail them, trying to keep them from making their presence noticed. Retreating on the command of those who stand within range of Dawn’s firearm, Jenn and Sonya caution Sebastian and Courtney, who had followed their lead, to stay back.

Grimacing, Lou surrenders to the comfort of Marta’s hands, which pull him closer toward the passenger’s seat and hold him as far down as can be managed, wanting to ensure they have as much protection and cover from the woman with the weapon. “I think Dawn’s trying to steal the hatchback” the young woman whispers, trying to keep their presence as unassuming as possible to avoid being targeted with the pistol as sitting ducks.

Forced to stand at gunpoint, the pair of black men worriedly look toward the mangled Wrangler and the drivers that huddle together within, not having heard a peep from the pair. “Marta, or Lou, or both, are hurt” the leader of the American side of the group mutters, keeping his voice low enough for only his friend to hear. “I know. They’d be stepping in if something wasn’t wrong” Jules assures, watching Dawn climb through the shattered window with continued aim of her gun.

“Jenn and Sonya pulled back. It’s just us out here, bro” Terry whispers again, receiving a nod from the man that stands before him, the conclusion one that he’d already come to just as others had been prior. “Alright, then. It’s ironic that we’re alone out here, but I guess that’s also fitting” Jules humours, shrugging back to the man as Dawn’s feet collide with the ground, her stance corrected.

Passing a glance toward the vehicle she’d struck amidst her attempt at fleeing, Dawn notices the pain that appears to be worn on the one-armed driver’s face, the arms that he resides within belonging to a young woman that Lou purposefully positions himself in front of. Considering the pair to be a threat that is neutralised well enough for the moment, the thief sets her attention upon the men that she holds at gunpoint, their displeased expression holding firmly upon her as she issues a warning.

“Don’t move” Dawn grumbles, pressing her hand against the hatchback’s mangled exterior, supporting herself as she attempts to regain her balance and formulate whatever fall-back plan she’d not initially felt would be necessary.

== RISE and REVOLT ==