S6, E10 | Investment

Taking a towel to his face as he exits the bathroom, a shirtless Emilio in only a threadbare pair of blue jeans and socks climbs from the second level of his home with sights set on the front door. Allowing himself to leisurely stroll toward his home’s entrance, the man tosses the towel over his shoulder and grants entry to those on the other side, an approachable visage taken upon him.

“Don’t ask where we got the champagne” Jack warns, yet to allow the door to fully open before making his remarks, a confused tilt of his head taken toward the shirtless man greeting them. “I’ll treat it the same way I treated you coming to my door covered in blood a few nights ago asking for a pair of clothes-” Emilio replies, stepping aside to allow the husband and wife to pass, “-I didn’t see a thing.”

Accepting the riposte for its value, Jack nods before following his wife through the entrance, a quick embrace shared between the pair as they make for the kitchen. “Where is everyone?” Lauren wonders aloud, the first to step through the divide between the rooms, finding the kitchen to be surprisingly empty for the occasion they were informed of.

“I moved breakfast out to the backyard” Emilio responds, his finger pointing toward the open door a few metres past the kitchen’s island. “Figured we’d mark our last day in Cumberland with an outdoor platter of pancakes and waffles?” Jack jokes, rejoining his wife as they follow the man toward the backdoor, his pause before stepping through providing them with little more clarity.

“Something like that” Emilio answers, guiding the husband and wife onto the rear patio and beneath the already-unravelled awning, the rest of their group already present and equally curious. “There he is!” Salem quips, sat atop the railing along the terrace’s edge, a rag taken to clean the barrel of her rifle as she’s left with little else to do.

“Finally! Are you gonna tell us why you were covered in dirt when we got here!?” Clint anxiously inquires, a decent question to ask with the sight he and his sister had arrived early enough to be greeted with. “Yup!” Emilio replies, his tone gleeful and presented with pep as he walks past the entirety of his group, head directed toward the ground as he approaches a small set of stairs leading to the rest of his backyard.

Silent through the rest of his venture, Emilio proceeds through the grass with expectation of his group following, their minds left temporarily perplexed. The first to depart from her post, Salem sets the example for her people, leaving the bannister to pull away from her unit, she tosses the strap of her rifle over her neck and follows the man without question.

Proceeding to slowly do the same, the congregation soon turns into a line of people all following the same man, his feet carrying him toward a set of trees in the middle of his backyard, the grass below their shade ripped up and covered with loose dirt. “We did this before- back when we thought we’d found a home” Emilio remarks, finally coming to a stop as his hands press against his sides, nodding at his work as the people catch up, “but- this time- it’s real.”

Silent, the group allows the sights they stand upon to settle in, hearing the man responsible continue as they make their peace..”Sometimes, I forget what Bill looked like at all once everything started shutting down. It’s hard to picture him as anything other than the man he was before” Emilio admits, holding back a pained expression as he looks below, “I know I’m not the only one that’s lost the people closest to me. I know I’m not the only one time is having it’s effect on.”

Though humbled, most of the group sports an appearance of sadness, pained by seeing the names of those they’d watched perish over the years. “When we convinced ourselves to wage war after getting to Sun City, we said we were fighting for the people we lost” Emilio explains, passing a glance to the people gathered by each of his sides before concluding his thought, “but now that we’re moving forward, we remember them so we never have to look back again.”

Written in marker and atop thin, stone tablets, the names of each member of their group lost to the world sit beneath the shade of a single pair of trees, resting atop shallow graves freshly dug. “While I love Bill, and while I miss him so fucking badly, I couldn’t be here right now- the man that I am- without losing him” Emilio explains, setting the standard response for those left to speak, “he made me stronger, and losing him forced me to prove that. I can’t ever let myself forget that.”

Met with silence, the man keeps his head hung, eyes frozen upon the name below his feet, the patch of dirt it lies upon symbolically no higher than any other grave. Passing a few glances, the rest of the group quietly questions where to respond from this moment, unsure of what reaction is intended, or what question is being asked of them. Thinking quietly to himself for a moment, Jack glances toward graves as he steps away from Lauren’s side, his voice emerging from the mute chorus.

“I knew Reggie the longest of the three, but Shauna was a close second,” the man proclaims, his hands gently swaying at each side as his stroll comes off casual, “Tyler actually hadn’t been working the floor for that long- probably about ten months or so.” A smirk suddenly appearing on his face, Jack nods whilst his eyes drift toward the sky, a laugh finding its way to the surface.

“Actually, when Tyler started, it was like he’d barely worked a day in his life. It was terrible” the man recalls, casually switching his sights from the young man’s grave to the young woman’s grave. “Shauna had weekends off, but she still came in on a Saturday to break it down for him” Jack persists, an impressed nod carried in his posture as the group’s attention resides fully upon him, “within six hours, the guy went from nearly getting fired to being fully equipped to handle the forklift.”

A pair of amused chuckles presented by Salem and Nessie, Jack continues with his story as his eyes wander toward Reggie’s grave, a halt to his smile appearing. “Reggie and I didn’t meet under the most preferable circumstances, but he sure as hell made every minute of every day count after that” he remarks, shaking his head with a renewed, yet somewhat broken smile, “he and Shauna worked well together. They never liked being the centre of attention, but they were just the smartest people.”

Heads directing themselves toward other gravesites, the group listen to Jack’s remarks as they set their attention toward other names resting before them, their own stories all leading to the same plot of land in Cumberland. “They’d never call attention to themselves, but they were just great. I know you didn’t know them as the most crucial people, but they were my family” Jack concludes, his frown setting aside as he steps away, “I can’t thank them enough for being there all those years.”

Scratching the soft spot beneath his eye, Jack moves aside as Alicia and Lauren couple together, approaching the far left set of tombstones with a heavy-hearted grimace. “I can’t even remember how long it’s been. It’s hard keeping track of the days sometimes- not that it really matters” the expecting mother remarks, her hands caressing the growing bump that builds upon her, “it feels like it’s been a fucking eternity since I’ve heard Meghan’s voice let alone talked to her.”

Tucking her hands away within her back pockets, Lauren watches Alicia’s head bow before speaking, waiting for her thought to finish before interjecting. “I don’t even really like thinking about them, if I’m being honest” the woman confesses, looking to a set of three graves, all differing from each other in some way, “every memory I have- before it all or after, it doesn’t really matter- always has to co-exist with remembering just how sad the way they died was.”

As if struck with a brutal sense of irony, Alicia’s eyes take to the burial plots of Janice and her son, understanding an inescapable cruelty that’s held within life’s most depraved moments. Though passing the mother and son’s plots, Lauren’s eyes centre upon Meghan’s spiritual resting place, a lingering dread laying within her core.

“At least they had the chance to say goodbye” Alicia proclaims, letting free a sigh as she tries to assume a more optimistic point of view, “too many of our friends never got that chance.” Her eyelids widening, Lauren quietly nods before her gesture begins to slowly subdue itself, a frown returning to her face. “But they never should have had to” she concludes, turning away to rejoin her husband a short distance away, “none of them should have had to.”

His hand coming to a rest on his wife’s shoulder, Franklin waits for the woman’s mourning to conclude before embracing her any further, not wishing to deprive her of the chance to put the past to bed. “I just hope the world will be better to us than it was to them” Alicia finishes, hiding the great sorrow she holds having to recall the conclusion to their lives, her heart breaking for what lessons it speaks toward the future, “but hope’s really all that any of us can do.”

Stepping into her husband’s arms, Alicia steps aside to allow others to grieve, their silent appreciation for the life shared provided. “I’m not going to Nova Scotia” a woman’s voice suddenly remarks from within the group, the eyes of those not responsible for the claim directed toward the person in question.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been wrestling with this thought ever since we got here and I just didn’t know what to do until now” Angela admits, her head shaking as she approaches Tyler’s grave, reading his name with a tear in her eye. “Every night- just before I fall asleep- I realise how fucked I would’ve been if he and I never met” she continues, looking to an assortment of surprised expressions pointed at her, “I would’ve ended up getting shot in the war or dead on the road days later.”

“Why does that have anything to do with whether or not you go to Nova Scotia?” Nessie asks from afar, neither she nor her brother having any offerings to make for the dead that lay before them. “Think of how many people died in that war- or after the bomb went off! He welcomed me into this group, and I’ve made it all these years longer than I otherwise would have!” Angela proclaims, a smile appearing over her face, “as long as I’m alive, there’s a piece of him still left in the world.”

Silently listening to the woman, the group settles their peace just the same as Angela settles her own, using the past to dictate how she moves forward. “I stay quiet. I don’t risk my life unless I have to, and I can’t say I’m morally pure as far as how I go about keeping myself alive- but I’m alive” Angela explains, her head shaking as she shrugs her shoulders, “and as long as I’m alive, he- or the mark he’s left on the world- is still alive too.”

Opening his mouth to respond, Emilio falls silent, his instincts directing him toward convincing the woman to change her mind, though his better judgement allows acceptance of her decision to prevail. “If that’s what you want, then-” the man remarks, looking the woman in the eyes as his shoulders drop, “-then I’m not going to stop you.”

Appreciative, Angela flashes the man a grin and bows her head, returning to the larger group as emotions settle, the healing process allowing scars to become symbols of growth rather than memories of more horrid times. Without a word, Emilio hangs his head and cuts through those left watching on, leading the collection’s return to the patio.

This time, without hesitation, the remainder of Emilio’s group follows his lead, leaving their past in the rear-view mirror with favour toward what is still to come. “It’s a beautiful day” the leader whispers beneath his breath, smiling as the sun emerges from behind the clouds to cover his face, the still-wet strands of hair on his head and face glowing beneath the bright light as he heads for the table, a look of genuine peace carried along the faces of all that walk with him.

= Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards =

Surrounded by constant chatter, Katie stands quietly beside the only three souls she’s been friendly enough to consider an acquaintance, the lead to Royo’s grazing muzzle held firmly within her hand. “Which part of the island is Charlottetown on?’ Max queries, the young woman to his right leaving the inquiry for their Quebecois counterparts to answer.

“It’s a cosy little city between three big chunks of farmland” Blaise answers warmly, trying and failing to illustrate the island’s layout with the movement of her hands. “Two of them form a chokehold you’d have to get past if you wanted to put troops on the ground in the city” Aude jumps in, putting an end to her husband’s poor rip-off of charades, “the island’s got the boats to mount a line of defence Nova Scotia would have to get through to take the city. It’s not an easy task.”

Paying no business to thoughts other than her own, Katie waits for the line they stand near the front of to progress forward, the only blockade to hold them back being the watertight doors they anxiously await the opening of. “That’s how empires started. Put your capital in a strategic place and you can move mountains” Blaise adds in, an enthused yet unaware Max providing him with his full attention, “Rome, Greece, the Ottoman’s, Portugal- the greatest empires abide by that same rule.”

“Hmph!” Royo neighs, shaking his head until Katie’s hand gently brushes his snout, her ears still drowning out the discourse happening around her. “If all goes as Gamble says, then- as far as we know- there’ll only be two functioning societies in the world” Aude tacks on, tying a light jacket around her waist, “and while Nova Scotia has the gas, if PEI can corner Quebec and establish a route between the island and Newfoundland, there’s nothing Nova Scotia can offer that we don’t already have.”

Incapable of fully disregarding the conversation happening a metre away from her, Katie’s eyes narrow momentarily as Blaise attempts to speak further, her voice interrupting the conversation with a question of her own. “Prince Edward Island doesn’t have an oil refinery?” the young woman asks aloud, caught by surprise at the fact, though the amused response she receives from the wealthy blonde frenchwoman implies such a reaction is laughable.

“Of course not!” the woman remarks, preparing for the group’s departure ahead of time, her hands reaching around her head to tie her locks into a ponytail. “Why do you think they want to block Nova Scotia off from Newfoundland? So they can’t keep them from making oil!” Aude proclaims, unable to hold back a smile at the notion of a powerful entity relieving itself of leverage, “if the island’s not giving them their ships back, do you not think they’d want to nip self-sufficiency in the bud?”

“But I thought Cape Breton stretched farther north than PEI?” Katie corrects the topography of the ruling province not lining up with the island’s plan, “can’t they just sail north to Newfoundland before we cut through Quebec to the east?”

“Sure- if they controlled Nova Scotia!” Aude loudly corrects, letting her hair sway from atop her head as the sound of cheers break out from the front of their line. Ducking her head forward, Katie looks to the woman with great confusion, the claims being made incapable of aligning with the assumptions she’d been allowed to maintain.

“Does Nova Scotia not control Nova Scotia?” Katie questions, an inquiry that even Max sides with, as baffled by the apparent revelation as his younger friend. “Max, when we were back in Concord, don’t you remember hearing them say they were pulling the plug on the Toronto compound?” their mutual acquaintance wonders, her husband having fallen silent in favour of deferring the task to his better half.

“I mean, I remember you saying they pulled people back home because they couldn’t hold a line. Does that help?” the taller man answers, watching the emphatic nod emerge from Aude’s head as light begins to flood their cramped corridor, the watertight doors parting to present their newest recruits to a blissful sunset. “Yeah, Nova Scotia was the frontline!” the woman responds, listening to the calls of armed soldiers from closeby, hearing the orders of peaceful assembly with resounding clarity.

“Everything was too chaotic when things first went down. The locals kept pushing them back until the NWO cut off their food supply” Aude continues, eventually forced to join her small group in funnelling forward, “they called the soldiers back to start fighting the dead once they came back and started chomping on their own.”

“If they don’t control the-?” Katie begins to question back, only for a firm hand to press into her chest, picking her out from the crowd with ease for obvious reasons. “The rest of you go. You can get on with your little talk later” the stern militant remarks, directing the three survivors through the watertight compartment before resetting his focus upon the woman and her space-consuming stallion.

“You’re Katie the horse girl, right?” the guard inquires, wearing an automatic rifle across his chest as the young woman nods quietly, “Gamble wants to see you in the capitol building. Just wait by the dock and he’ll lead you into town.” The haste yet rather friendly command offered, Katie joins her friends from Orleans Island in being shuffled off the war vessel, climbing onto Royo’s saddle to adequately step down the narrow gangway.

“Holy shit” Katie murmurs beneath her breath, squinting her eyes as the bright sunset strikes at the side of her face, the spin of her steed providing her with the gorgeous view of the island’s chokepoint, two massive sides of farmland nearly touching together as the water that moves between them situates within the Charlottetown Harbour.

Her white t-shirt appearing yellow within the natural setting, Katie stares at the scenery with an astonished expression, the sight of civilization one she’d never anticipated getting to experience again, lingering on its beauty for much longer than she’d prefer to admit.

With her arms by each side, Katie rounds the corner toward Gamble’s office, uninterested in knocking to alert the man to her arrival, and in return, being struck with the potent stench of cigar smoke. “You couldn’t even let me get off the boat before sending a message- through your men- to come see you?” the young woman inquires, watching her superior’s head lift to greet her, his physical expression less than welcoming.

“I expect you to have the decency of knocking before you enter” the rough, cold-faced man ripostes, removing the fine smoke from his mouth to acknowledge the woman’s entrance. “I’m only here because I was talked into it- not because I want to be” Katie proclaims, refusing to allow the man the satisfaction of believing his power over her is anything more than an illusion brought on by his title, “don’t think for a second that you own me, or that I’ll just bend the knee to everything you say.”

Protruding his bottom lip, Gamble stares at Katie for a few moments in silence, digesting her claims whilst inspecting her before subtly nodding his head. Gently laying his cigar upon an ashtray, Gamble casually rolls his chair back and climbs to his feet, speaking as he approaches a shelf of books near the opposite end of his quarters.

“People don’t get swayed into doing something they don’t like... not anymore” Gamble explains, lightly resting the tip of his finger against the spine of one book after another, moving onto the next until finding the one he searches for, “the people with spines weak enough to be guilted into things that way? Well, they died when the old world did- this world ain’t got the room for them.”

“I wasn’t guilted, I was-” Katie attempts to correct, her interjection matched with one of Gamble’s own. “-convinced, yeah I got that. So, that makes you either one of two things” the man remarks, pulling an encyclopaedia out from a stack of others before returning to his workspace, “either you’re one of the weak that didn’t die out- which just means you’ll be dead within the next few days now that you’re somewhere that your kind doesn’t survive in.”

Opening the hard cover, Gamble begins flipping through the pages without offering another word, his sudden silence bringing great curiosity over the obviously unarmed lady. “And the other one is?” she inquires, watching an eye roll immediately take toward her out of disgust. “Oh, come on!” the man remarks, lowering his cigar back to the tray just as he’d reclaimed it, “don’t be stupid- you know what the other one is!”

Pressing his back into the chair, Gamble rests his arms against each side of the seat before taking a quick drag from the alluring symbol of high class wealth. “The other one is what you are” the man remarks, swiping his hand through the air as he takes his view toward the same bookshelf he’d just come from, already knowing what kind of survivor the young woman is, “you’re someone that wants to be here. You’re someone that wants a home, and you picked the right side to back.”

“I didn’t pick a side” Katie again tries to correct, though incapable of making much headway. “You picked a side the moment you stepped off my boat. You picked a side the moment you ran a knife across my arm and still came back the next time I called you” Gamble argues back, his voice frighteningly calm and composed, “feeding me that ‘this is complicated’ bullshit is nonsense. I know why you came here, and trying to convince me otherwise does nothing- for either of us.”

Silenced, Katie stares at the man with great intensity, his eyes never once faltering for as long as hers remain placed upon him. “Whether I want to be here or not doesn’t change the fact that- if push comes to shove- I’m not afraid to leave” the woman remarks, calling out the man’s scoff upon the voicing of her defiant soul.

“If banishing you from the island’s not a threat, then we’ll just execute you” the man nonchalantly replies, again finding his younger counterpart stumped on a response, his honesty catching her entirely off guard. Amidst the quiet tension that follows their conversation to its point, Gamble takes the opportunity to continue speaking, both acknowledging her defiant will and youthful brazenness.

“Katie, if you do what I ask of you- I’ll be as warm and fuzzy as you can expect a man in charge of humanity’s future to be. I can be your best friend or your greatest adversary” Gamble says, a warning he takes pleasure in presenting, “but I have too much on my plate to be told by my subordinates that they’re too good to follow my instructions to a tee.”

Looking the man in the eyes, Katie feels a moment of genuine fear strike deep within her, the threats a man capable of following through to the fullest extent hitting her ear like the blast of a shotgun barrel. Her lip quivering as she struggles to speak, the young woman bows her head in an effort to part her eyes from Gamble’s imposing pupils, his voice lifting with the rest of his body the moment her face parts from his own.

“As far as we’re concerned, when you’re willing and capable of doing what I ask of you, you’ll live like royalty all the way down to the clothes you wear and cars you drive” Gamble explains, stepping around his desk with the cigar in one hand, the other reaching toward the handle of a nearby refrigerator.

Blowing a puff of smoke into the air as he opens the electric cooler, Gamble raises his eyebrow whilst reaching what resides within. “But when you fuck up, like let’s say- allowing a woman to sneak aboard my ship with a knife because you couldn’t do your job?” the man inquires, removing his hand before hurling the retrieved object toward Katie’s feet, “well- you suffer the consequences!”

With a gross thud, the severed head of a reanimated face familiar to the young woman rolls along the carpeted floor, its teeth gnawing at air in hopes of reaching the tip of Katie’s boot a metre away. Horrified, Katie leaps back, colliding with the wall as she stares in horror, the effect of Gamble’s indoctrination too great for her to play off.

Returning the cigar to its tray, Prince Edward Island’s leader slams his foot against the side of the recently-deceased patrol guard’s head, splattering his brain along the vintage rug. Looking away and trying not to gag, Katie allows Gamble to finish his thought, overcome with a flurry of reactions by the display she proves physically incapable of stomaching.

“From my perspective- I see bringing you, the rest of your people, and Astor on as leader to be one giant investment. I’m providing you with my best and expecting you to reward me by giving me the numbers to take Nova Scotia down when they come” Gamble concludes, blowing a small puff of smoke against the side of Katie’s face, the back of her head nearly pressed against the office’s drywall, “so- unless you wanna end up like splatalot down there- just don’t screw up my investment.”

|

His back resting against a telephone poll, Emilio gazes around a small road surrounded by trees, its end lined with a small stack of sandbags that separate it from an adjacent street heading north and south. Sat atop the low-quality border with her bare arms resting against the denim of the jeans that cover her thighs, Jade looks to the folks she shares the company of, her brothers all waiting closeby just as she does.

Wearing a pair of leather gloves, the slot for his pinky purposefully removed on one hand, Jack and Lauren sit close to the McKee family, both wearing a white t-shirt with differing colour shorts. One married couple sat across from the other, Franklin sits on the ground whilst his pregnant wife sits atop his lap, the skirt of the woman’s dress cut off at the knee whilst her husband’s grey sweatpants match with his black v-neck t-shirt.

Her legs crossed with the rifle laid upon them, Salem stares into the sky while intermittently glancing in the direction of what remains of her group. The road barely wide enough to fit more than one car at a time, most of the group’s muffled sighs can be heard amongst their clustered gathering, the patient waiting for the arrival of their transportation allowing them to quietly enjoy the cosy surroundings that encompass them.

“What’s Nova Scotia like?” Nessie asks aloud, sat beside her brother at the opposite end of the young relatives, only Angela behind them, sat in a lawn chair waiting to pay her friends well wishes. “M- me? You’re talking to-? Oh, you’re talking to me!” Jade confusedly remarks in surprise, glancing at the woman’s direction. Slowly shaking her head, the woman tries to illustrate the best description for what lies ahead for those before her, painting a rather desirable picture.

“It’s- uh- it’s big” the woman murmurs, her verbal paintbrushes slowly warming to the canvas she’s been tasked with filling. “It’s not as much Nova Scotia as it is Nova Scotia and New Brunswick” Jade clarifies, bobbing her head from one side to another, both shoulders shrugging, “but they did the same thing we did. They stationed guards on the highways around Moncton, set it up as their capital, and did the same on the highway between Truro and New Glasgow.”

“You get a lot of open space and travelled roads until you hit Moncton” Archie interjects, making due with the sum of his parts, “if they’re really destined to be the last pillar of society, then the last heartbeat of human civilisation runs through Moncton.” Nodding, Archie’s sister looks back to the group, a few squinted eyes and confused looks presented to her.

“Moncton’s like a people’s town. Few cars, trains and buses are running, there’s a busy downtown with shops set up inside old ‘hole in the wall’ spots” Jade continues to remark, drawing further east as her recollections persist, “and then it gets quiet. The city turns into old towns- which turn into small neighbourhoods- which become farmland. If there was a life you wanted in the old world- you’ll be able to earn it for yourself in the new one.”

Moving his head slightly forward, Emilio sets the rosy imagery painted for him aside, preferring to set his attention upon a more crucial piece of detail. “Why did they cut them in half?” the man queries, allowing the background noise of chirping crickets to accompany his question, “New Brunswick and Nova Scotia- why did they cut them in half?”

“For the same reason we cut Cumberland in half at the start- there was just too much open space to look after” Oliver answers quickly, his response not sitting well in the back of Emilio’s mind. Feeling slightly offended at the unimpressive reply he feels is intentional, the bearded man repeats his question, scoffing at Oliver’s notion. “They don’t have to play by the rules. If they wanted guns to look after it, they could just bring them in” the man corrects, waiting for an answer.

With a few seconds passing, his eyes pass from Oliver and Isaac toward Archie and Jade, the attempts to form a reasonable return less notable than the glance paid between the elder siblings. Narrowing his eyebrows, Emilio glares in the siblings’ direction, most of his group noticing this expression for precisely what it is, following his lead in raising their suspicion.

“Why bother trying to take over land you don’t need?” Oliver begins to answer, his remarks paid to the man without his attention given, his sights set elsewhere. “That’s not necessarily the reason” Jade quips, correcting her younger brother’s explanation whilst looking Emilio in the eyes, a frown worn on her face.

“They cut it off because they had an uprising” the woman clarifies, remaining seated atop the sandbag border just beside the Massachusetts state line with her eyes panning around the survivors. “They initially came into Nova Scotia and put the city under lockdown, but a few months into the outbreak- they didn’t have the numbers” Jade recalls, “they had too many people in other compounds and the Nova Scotians revolted.”

Rolling her eyes, Salem shakes her head in disappointment, “sounds about right” she murmurs beneath her breath, though her closeness to the remaining survivors makes the remark more than audible. “Yeah, I know it does” Jade replies, sharing a look with the woman before finishing the story, “so they retreated to the 104, cut off Nova Scotia at the highway, and armed the border to the teeth. After about another year or so, they knew one of two things happened.”

“They either ran out of food or settled down and started making their own” Jack remarks, finishing the woman’s declaration before the opportunity for herself to do so is presented. “Exactly. When they went in, they realised the lights were still running in Halifax and came back home without a peep” Jade concludes, her head shaking as her shoulders drop, “they decided they’d leave them be and make due with what they’d already built out west. They haven’t talked to each other since.”

Sporting visible looks of disappointment, Emilio and his group think quietly to themselves for a moment, the silent introspection beginning just as the distant sound of a running motor emerges from afar. “How many people know about this?” Alicia suddenly wonders aloud, her eyes glancing toward the ground as her lips form a frown, waiting for the woman’s answer before coming to any conclusion.

“I’m not around the place long enough to know. If it were an inner circle secret, that wouldn’t surprise me. If it were common knowledge, that also wouldn’t surprise me” Jade answers, the side of her face lit by a pair of headlights as she finishes speaking, “just don’t let anyone know it was us that told you.”

As the woman’s answer finishes, Emilio looks to the pregnant woman from a few metres away, noticing her inquisitive expression and recognising what the woman’s mind is navigating through. The vehicle’s brakes screeching as they come to a halt, Nova Scotia’s bus pulls against the settlement’s small border and opens its doors, the compartments and storage pockets filled with the group’s belongings at the aid of the McKee brothers.

Standing, Emilio jogs to the expecting couple’s side, taking Alicia’s hand and assisting her off the ground. Lowering his head, Emilio glances toward Cumberland’s leadership whilst subduing his voice into a whisper, his lips a short distance away from the pregnant woman’s ear. “I can see that face” the bearded man whispers, gently pressing his cheek against the woman’s own, “you’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Leaning into the pair, Franklin keeps his ear close to listen into the conversation, purposefully pulled closed by Emilio’s hand. “If we keep our cards close to our chest, we can use the Halifax people to our advantage if our backs are against the wall” Alicia answers back, visibly struggling through exhaustion to stand up, “those people still tried to screw us once before. I don’t know who’s in charge now, but if they try what they did a few years ago, we could use the leverage.”

“I’ll let the rest know” Franklin whispers back, understanding his place within the dialogue without it needing to be said, his hands wrapping around his wife’s stomach as they pull away from Emilio, wanting to keep suspicion to a minimum. With her hands in each pocket, Angela approaches her once-leader, now-acquaintance with a smile.

“At least we both found home” the woman whispers, lifting her arms around the man and giving him a gentle squeeze. “We’ve got our reasons for choosing where we wish to spend our days, but we’re both finding the same thing” Emilio replies, patting the woman on the back as he pulls away, “take care, kid.”

“You too” Angela responds, stepping past the man as Jade takes her place, approaching Emilio with a smile on her face, its origins not of happiness or glee, but from taking pleasure in the man and his group reaching the destination they’d been fighting for. “I don’t remember who I thought would or wouldn’t go to Nova Scotia- even if I know it wasn’t all of you- but you were different” the woman recalls, letting free a large exhale as she pats the man’s chest, “I knew you’d go eventually.”

Curious, Emilio pulls his head back and nods, “is that so?’ he asks with an intrigued smirk. Casually walking beside the man with each hand in her back pocket, Jade lowers her head as the pair venture toward the last obstacle between Cumberland and Nova Scotia- the bus ride that carries them from one to the next.

“You don’t meet a ton of natural leaders out there. When you see them- and I can’t explain why- you just notice it” Jade explains, inching closer to the bus with every step, “I knew the day would come when I’d have to watch you walk off.”

Appreciative, Emilio bows his head to hide the grin that comes over his face, nodding as he steps closer to the bus. The air growing quiet between the two, Jade takes a moment to think to herself in silence, conjuring up the words to speak before voicing them aloud.

“I know you think John was a good leader. I won’t argue one way or the other, but I know what you think” the woman remarks, watching the smile slowly fade from Emilio’s face in favour of a perceptive expression. “From everything you told me, I can agree that he was a good man. Even if he had his weaknesses, we can agree that his head was in the right place- at least most of the time” Jade explains, still looking into the man’s distant eyes, “but as a leader?”

“He got us as far as he did” Emilio quickly interrupts, turning his head to look Jade in the eyes as they reach the sandbags, the McKee siblings stepping aside to allow the conversation to take place privately. “And he did a damn fine job doing so, but I’m still left feeling he didn’t become the leader he wanted to be” Jade interjects just as her friend had, watching him fall silent the moment her voice overwhelms his own.

“Think back to New York. He brought the compound down because a civil war brewed out of the decision he made” the woman corrects, only able to continue speaking as Emilio stares toward her, biting his bottom lip to brace himself for the hard truth he can’t argue against. “In Sheol? He went in looking for revenge, and when he tried to liberate it, the place went tits-up” Jade continues, “and Sun City? He set the wheel in motion for another power vacuum, and that time- it got him killed.”

“Alright, what is this?” Emilio asks aloud, watching Jade’s eyes shut as she shakes her head, prepared to interrupt him again in order to answer the question. “It’s me telling you that John wanted to be the glue that held utopia together- not the mallet that crushed it into pieces” the woman replies, again sparking enough interest in her colleague to silence him, “but time after time, all the way up until it got him killed, he tried and failed.”

“What’s your point?” Emilio suddenly cuts back, his question sparking a few additional seconds of silence between the pair that only breaks amidst his follow-up, “what does any of this have to do with me?”

Looking up, Jade puckers her lips and pulls her head back, removing her hands from behind her back and letting them hang by each side. “I’m saying that you became the leader that he wanted to be” the woman finishes, her voice remaining as composed as both of their voices had been through the discourse, a look of surprise dawning upon Emilio’s face.

“You kept Cumberland together when a mallet came down on it. When the time came, you stepped in and held us together” Jade explains, a subdued look of pride appearing upon Emilio’s mein as she continues speaking, “I just wanted to tell you that- from everything you told me back in Providence, and through these months here- you’ve been the leader this group needed ever since day one. I just thought you should know that.”

His praises given, Emilio looks Jade in the eyes for a few additional moments in utter silence, not knowing how to respond to her acclaim. “I- um-” the man stammers, taking a moment to take in a deep breath before releasing it with a huff, his shoulders dropping as if they’d finally been relieved of a metaphorical weight, settling on a simple reply worthy of being spoken, “thank you.”

Arching the corners of her lips into a smile, Jade nods before extending her hand, her eyes locking onto the man’s own, “it’s been nice knowing you, Emilio.” Still shaken by her endorsement, the man stands in place for a moment before looking to her hand, slowly reaching to shake it as his mind processes her claim.

“You too” Emilio replies, letting the gentle exchange pass before turning away, stepping over the wall of sandbags whilst the McKee’s watch, his sights set on the white bus with green and yellow streaks of paint along its side. Pausing for a moment, his hand rests on the side of the bus as his dominant foot presses onto its floor, his head turning back to Angela, Jade and her brothers as they wave goodbye.

Mustering a smile, Emilio nods to the small group before climbing the rest of the way onboard, the double doors her steps through closing behind him as he traverses the small corridor. Surrounded by the siblings, and both married couples, Salem leaves one set beside her free for the occupancy of one man. Pulling out from Cumberland’s exit, the bus drags along Paine Road in search of the new world, leaving Emilio to settle into the only open chair.

With his hands folded atop his lap, the man presses his back into the seat as the cabin’s lights power down, allowing the group to sleep through the night as their journey into Atlantic Canada ensues. “I’m gonna assume you all know about Halifax?” Emilio whispers, his group assembling together near the bus’ rear.

Answered with silent nods in each direction, his face sports a subdued grin as he nods to himself, glancing at the window to Salem’s side. “Good” Emilio whispers, letting out a loud sigh as he leans his head back, both eyes closing as his chin raises toward the ceiling, “I like it when a plan comes together.”

== Rise ==