S6, E7 | Six Cylinders in a Lonely Field

Her shoulder pressing into the wall that forms the arch between her living room and kitchen, Jade’s eyes cement themselves upon the focused gathering that eagerly anticipates what they know is about to unfold. Comfortably resting against Jack’s side, Lauren’s hand gently rubs the point of her husband’s knee, maintaining a reassuring smile toward the couple across the room from them.

Appreciative, Franklin bows his head in the woman’s direction, his halved-arm resting upon the lower back of his child’s soon-to-be mother. His own head subtly nodding toward the ground, Jack sets his sights on the siblings, who stand near the first family of the settlement they’ve newly become acquainted with, both Jade and Isaac occupying a seat on the staircase a few metres beside Clint and Nessie.

His own confidence less secure, Clint looks to the man with narrowed eyes, incapable of presenting a look of solace in good faith. “Does anyone need a refresher on the plan?” Emilio blurts aloud, descending from the home’s second level with Salem in tow, Archie’s bruised and bloodied face not far behind, walking as if nothing were wrong.

Collective silence offered by those that occupy 18 Rawson, the answer to Emilio’s question becomes clear, a complete understanding of their assignment held. “Alright” the man remarks, gracefully patting Jade on the shoulder as he passes, returning to the home’s spacious, filled foyer.

Before long, Jack’s ears follow his wife’s attention, the rest of the group soon to follow as engine’s begin to pierce through the silence of post-midnight, their driver’s setting upon one central square. Placing his eyes in the room’s centre, Jack bows his head in Emilio’s direction, ushering the start of their ultimate fight for unity.

Through anger, Jack leads a cloaked figure into the home’s parkway, the man’s hands bound behind his back as the victim leans forward, simply placing his feet where his captor demands of him. “Where’s Rocky?” Franklin inquires, both he and Lauren the next to exit the home, Emilio, and Angela following closely behind.

“On his way- who are they?” an unfamiliar man queries, armed with an automatic rifle as his baggy clothes flail in the wind, almost as if they weren’t his at all. Almost on command, Salem follows Clint and Nessie through the doors of 18 Rawson, their own rifles carried as Jess, Heather and Amy emerge soon after.

“We don’t need Rocky to follow through on his promise anymore- we found the people we were looking for” Jack explains, guiding the cloaked-Archie to his knees on the rough asphalt. “What deal?” a second, also unfamiliar intruder questions, his voice slightly raised from that of the first person.

“We got you the guns you stormed these walls with. In return, Rocky promised us the next trip to Nova Scotia” Jack answers, ripping the sack from Archie’s head before discarding it on the ground, “that’s where we were supposed to reunite with our group. Now that we’ve found them, we don’t need those greedy pricks up north anymore.”

“Who the fuck is this?” the first loudmouth exclaims, directing the barrel of his gun toward the pavement in front of Archie, a scowl worn across his face. “I’ll answer that question when Rocky gets here” Jack replies, resting his hand on the grip of the firearm that resides by his hip. “I’m the one that asked the question- answer it” the unkempt Rockford resident remarks, prompting the content expression on Jack’s face to slowly deteriorate, replaced with a look of irritation.

The air between them silent, Jack leans his head toward one shoulder as he eyes the man ahead, a brief smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth. Uninterested in offering a warning, Jack takes the firearm from his side and fires a single round, the brass jacket he shoots ripping through the man’s cheekbone without concern. His brains scrambled, the man tries to aim his weapon forward, though his motor functions refuse him the chance, his brain yet to comprehend the head trauma he’d suffered.

To a silenced crowd, the man at Rockford’s forefront collapses into a heap on the ground, the hole in the back of his head allowing blood to pool around his scrambled cranium. His pistol-wielding hand lowering slightly, Jack takes one step forward and sets his eyes on the crowd’s remainder, most unsure of how to react. “We just took over this compound. Do you really want to test us?” the man inquires, illustrating his point in resounding fashion, those who dare question him left to think twice.

His display interrupted only by the sound of heavy exhaust pipes pulling around the corner, Jack’s attention shares the focus of those he sides with, watching the bright lights of their anticipated eighteen wheeler near close. As the large wheels slow to a stop, Jack redirects the aim of his pistol to the air, his finger pulling the trigger three times as he fires a trifecta of rounds into the dark sky of an extremely early morning.

“That’s the signal- get in position!” Jade hisses, huddled in the home’s veiled corners as her hands flail in differing directions, marshalling smaller groups of armed patrolmen in different paths. “Jade, this is a bad idea- you should be inside with Alicia and the rest” Isaac remarks, earning an appreciative smile and pat on the shoulder from his relative, her rifle thrown over one shoulder. “I’ll be right back here by sunrise” Jade murmurs, prepared for what is to come.

Opening his driver’s side entrance, Rocky peers his head over the top of his truck's door, passing a smirk toward the men and woman he’d spent the last number of weeks getting to know. “What’s all of this?” the grey-haired man inquires, crossing his arms atop the door’s crest as his head leans forward, his loud voice echoing as it’s carried toward the curious scene ahead.

“A solution to both of our problems” Jack answers, assuredly stepping around Archie as he approaches the rig with caution, partially using his own body to shield his offering from stray gunfire. “We started this fight, and now we’re ending it” Jack explains, reupholstering his handgun as he marches toward Rockford’s frontline, “we wanted our fair share- now we have it.”

“And what about your problem?” Rocky swiftly calls out, harkening on the second half of the man’s claims with intrigue, his shoulders jutting outward, “how exactly did you solve that one?”

His lip curling, Jack notices Rocky’s uninterest in his speech, the promises of prosperity and fables of fortune he presents Rockford with not appearing as genuine to the invasive settlement’s highest power. “We found our people here” Jack answers, jutting his chin toward the faces yet to imprint themselves upon Rocky’s mind, the people it had been so important to reach Nova Scotia in search of now stood by, armed to the teeth.

“We gave you those guns for the first trip to Nova Scotia- now we don’t need it” Jack explains, letting his hands hang by each side as Rocky watches on, hesitant to buy into the claims being made. “And how the hell did you manage to take this whole thing over?” Rocky inquires curiously, the open window allowing him to use the door’s opening as a stepladder to the cabin’s roof, where he occupies a seat as the conversation persists.

“Because we’ve been together since the dead rose. Everyone that you see behind me- old faces and new ones- we’ve been together since the start” Jack replies, both thumbs sliding into his jean pockets. “And you just convinced them to turn on their home?” Rocky continues to challenge, hiding his doubt in Jack’s claims less than before, aware of where the balance in power lies.

“You don’t have to believe me, but I haven’t lied to you before” the younger man counters, watching Rocky wrap his fingers around a long, thick yellow rope, its leash leading directly toward the truck’s behind. “As a matter of fact- I don’t believe you” Rocky ripostes, glancing toward the mirror on his driver’s side door as his head shakes.

Though a great distance away, Jack keeps a clear view of Rocky with a minor squint in his eye, watching the man glance toward his side with curiosity. Silently, Jack trails his glance toward the rig’s rear, able to see a small, yet noticeable fleet of Jade’s men briefly exposed for all to see as they dash through a strip of moonlight unshielded by the trees. In a moment of worry, the altercation’s presumed lead figure returns his sights to Rocky, taking immediate notice of the man’s grin.

“Open fire!” Jack exclaims, not wasting his breath as he unsheathes his weapon, dashing to Lauren’s side as he opens fire on the unsuspecting Rockford fleet. Beaten to the punch of presenting hostility, Rocky harshly tugs at the rope as he slides off the cabin’s roof, safely reaching the ground before hurrying for cover with the remainder of his flock.

Led by the opposite end of the rope, the rig’s trailer door lifts from its closure, exposing the depths of the hauler to the small counterattack Cumberland had quietly prepared to Rockford’s back. “AARRGGHH!” the trailer soon hisses, spilling dozens of the undead from its confines, their collective sights set on Cumberland’s counterforce, prompting the secretive group to present themselves and open fire.

Spilling out from the treeline, Cumberland’s forces surround those responsible for turning the settlement upon its head, spilling blood throughout 18 Rawson’s paved parkway in the name of liberation. Hurrying to cover, Jack and Lauren claim a small side of the home’s exterior as a barricade, regrouping as the rest of their militia follows suit. “Jack!” Franklin exclaims, ducking behind the McKee’s parked truck in search of refuge.

At the mere mention of his name, Jack springs from cover and empties his clip in the direction of enemy forces, answering the call he’d understood as Franklin requesting cover fire. With ease, the couple’s towering friend reaches safe haven, joining Jack and Lauren in reprieve from the cover fire. “Get back to Alicia, we’ll take over from here!” Jack directs, pushing a hesitant Franklin in the shoulder to usher him back into the home, the fight that rages in need of friendly hands.

“He’s making a break for it!” Salem barks, retaining her cover as she fires into the treeline, only able to connect her rounds with the wooden logs Rocky uses for cover on his entry to total darkness. “I don’t have a shot on him!” Salem defeatedly cries, ducking back behind cover as she reloads, making way for Nessie to leave the safety of her asphalt cover.

With Clint following closely behind, Nessie charges through the warzone with minimal need to open fire on the lessening front of Rockford as it makes a final stand. “Where are you going!?” Emilio shouts aloud, receiving no answer from the siblings as they vanish into the woods, giving chase to the man responsible for Cumberland’s uproar.

“Frank!” Heather exclaims, shielding Amy against her black and red flannel-covered chest as she hurries toward the front door, leaving the young girl in the man’s possession. “I’m going after the siblings!” Heather explains, returning Amy’s gun to the large man’s hand, “keep Amy here- don’t let her leave!”

The scene too disordered for the man to offer much of a refusal, Franklin nods his head as Heather charges out from cover, dashing through the battleground as Jack and Lauren prepare for the next round of their fight. Racing to the window, Amy peers through the glass to watch her parental figure descend upon the woodlands.

“Amy, honey- get away from the window!” Alicia calls, motioning for the young girl to join herself and Franklin on the home’s second level, a call Amy nearly accepts in the nick of time. Passing a final glance through the home’s viewfinder, Amy watches a second familiar figure follow Heather’s lead through the woodland’s entrance, the newly-brunette hairs that shine in the moonlight striking immediate fear within the young girl.

Without warning, Amy charges through the living room and rips her revolver from Franklin’s hand, disregarding Heather’s advice as she hurries through the exit of 18 Rawson. “Amy!” Lauren shouts, attempting to reach for the girl before coming up short, the Callis’ daughter making it a few metres further before falling into Emilio’s grasp.

“Amy, get back in the house!” Emilio exclaims, pulling the girl away from open fire as bullets continue to fly, his protective instincts kicking in. “My mom’s gonna hurt Heather!” Amy sharply exclaims, ripping herself free of Emilio’s grasp before selflessly throwing herself into the battlefield.

Saving her ammunition, Amy dips into the forest as Emilio gives chase, hurrying after the young girl whilst Jack and Lauren make their final ascent on the property’s tree-covered backdrop. Following the lead of their peers, Salem and Angela finish off the group’s rotation as they hurry into the woodlands, allowing Cumberland’s armed forces to finish the job they leave behind in favour of putting a dagger in Rockford’s revolution, joining their people in nailing Rocky’s coffin shut.

= 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 =

“Amy!” Emilio bellows at the top of his lungs, leaping over obstructions that hang low to the ground as he follows the short figure he can barely make out the shadow of beneath the dead of night. “Amy! Wait!” the man continues, his quest differing from that of his group’s, the gunshots that pierce the air in the very near distance failing to prevent him from keeping up with the child’s surprisingly quick pace.

Though her deceptively fast pace keeps Emilio on his toes, Amy’s stubby little legs prevent her from outrunning the man that follows her closely, his refusal to fall back foils her escape. “Amy, stop!” Emilio shouts, continuing to run as he slips his hands between the small of the young girl’s arms, lifting her off the ground as he continues rushing ahead, only slowing once his target has fully left the ground.

“Let me go! She’s gonna hurt Heather!” Amy barks, trying to squirm free of her captor’s possession, her arms and legs flailing as she desperately attempts to free herself. “Who’s going to hurt Heather!? What are you talking about!?” Emilio queries, falling to his knees as he presses the small child into the ground, unable to confidently secure her in mid-air any longer.

“My mom! She’s gonna hurt Heather!” Amy reiterates, digging her fragile fingers into the soft, loose dirt in an effort to claw her way to freedom. “Why would your mother wanna hurt Heather!?” Emilio asks once more, finally easing his grasp on the small being, allowing her to again climb to her feet and begin running.

“She’s gonna-!” Amy barks again, readying her firearm for use once more before a distant scream catches her ear, dragging her attention to the side as her scurry momentarily ceases. “Mom!” Amy exclaims, her eyes widened as her face is partially illuminated by the light that breaks through the leaves of trees above.

“Amy, come bac-!” Emilio shouts, desperate to catch his breath as he begins running again, attempting to keep up with the child before the air is ripped from his lungs. Mid-run, Emilio’s body weight shifts to the side, crashing into the ground at the impact of a grown man catching him by surprise, both arms wrapped around Amy’s overseer as he’s tackled.

“You fucks took our shit!” a heavy man barks, swinging his fist toward Emilio’s face with a force derived from sheer rage, catching the downed leader with a right hand. Barely acknowledging the punch’s effect, Emilio wraps his hands around the collar of his attacker’s shirt and thrusts his head forward to great effect, the weight he feels pressing upon him alleviated with one move.

Dragging himself out from beneath his assailant, Emilio couples his arms together and shields his face, hit with an unexpected flash of light that catches him in the eyes. Within the same moment, a single bullet fires through the woodlands, immediately dragging a groan from the hefty figure Emilio had nearly been smothered beneath seconds prior.

Ducking low to the ground, Emilio lowers his arms and gazes upon the large man with the round stomach, his right hand pressing against the wound that had just ripped through his chest. With wide eyes, the man’s face glances into Emilio’s, his visage one the capable survivor had never seen before, though the look in his aggressor's eyes is one that needs little explanation.

Panicked and afraid, the fat man’s widened eyes fall upon Emilio, the bloodstain his hand covers only growing as it further stains his grey shirt. Without warning, a second bullet rips through the obese raider’s skull with great effect, immediately splattering his brain matter along the ground that his hefty frame soon crashes into, the threat of his presence alleviated with great effect.

“Are you good!?” Jade’s friendly voice worriedly exclaims, the light she aims in Emilio’s direction presenting her with the man’s shocked expression. “Wh- which!? Which way did Amy go!?” Emilio remarks concerningly, looking to the ground for a few moments before an additional gunshot ruptures the sky, its sound resonating in the direction he’d initially chased the young girl toward.

“Emilio!” Jade calls out, watching the man hurry toward the sound of hellfire without as much as a ‘goodbye’, her instincts kicking in as she reholsters her weapon and gives chase, following the sound of Emilio’s footsteps further into the uncertain terrain.

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Huffing for a new breath with every step, Heather focuses on the topography ahead, making out barely visible glimpses at debris that lines her route in hopes of maintaining her momentum. As a break nears in the trees, Heather presses onward, crashing into the trunk of a large tree as she approaches a clearing in the forest, a chunk of her flannel sleeve tearing as her arm grazes a low-hanging branch.

To her dismay, Heather’s search comes to a disappointing conclusion, the clearing she’d hoped would offer her insight to the target’s whereabouts proving to be a let down, nothing more than a near-circular patch of overgrown grass brightened by the unobstructed moon directly above. As her breaths grow quieter, Heather’s optimistic hopes become rejuvenated, her ears taking to the route she’d hurried down as a second set of footsteps draws close.

With her weapon in hand, Heather takes aim at the break in the trees she’d scampered through and begins to wait, prepared to fire at the first sign of danger that presents itself to her. “Don’t shoot, it’s me!” Jess’ voice proclaims, her extended hands the first to catch the moonlight’s glow as they lead her into the open space, the woman’s exhausted gasps for air the first thing to follow her declaration.

“Were you following me?” Heather inquires, her eyes kept steadily upon the hunched-forward woman, the front of her white tank top stained with sweat. “I thought you were going after the guy” Jess sighs, continuing to fight for each new breath as her hands press into her knees, offering herself the chance to collect her bearings.

“Why not follow someone else?” Heather challenges, the hairs on her neck reacting to the situation appropriately, just as sceptical to the claims Jess makes as Heather herself is. “You were the last person to chase him before me- why? Is it a crime to follow you in the woods?” Jess queries, flashing the woman a smile as her sarcastic remark concludes, met with a silence that draws intrigue from the Callis family matriarch.

Slowly collecting herself, Jess pushes herself upright, her eyes squinting as gunshots continue ringing in the distance, her attention not belonging to the sounds of war that surround her, but to the weapon that remains readied by Heather’s side. “You wanna put that gun away?” Jess calmly wonders aloud, looking into Heather’s eyes to find immediate distrust, an expression she can recognise all too well.

“Not really” Heather ripostes with equal poise, her straightened arm prepared to pull upward if necessary, the finger she rests beside the trigger guard set to fire if the occasion calls for it. Gently nodding, Jess presses her teeth into the flesh of her top lip as her palms present themselves to the woman across from her, both hands raised in a show of surrender.

“I’m not the enemy here, Heather” Jess explains, understanding that the woman she stares down has little good will toward her, “I don’t know what you think this is- but-”

“I know exactly what this is” Heather interrupts, lifting her weapon in Jess’ direction, her finger having relocated to the trigger. Holding back a deep inhale, Jess raises her hands higher, her chin lifting further upward as the distant bullets slowly begin to cease. “Heather, listen to me- I get why you don’t trust me- I do” Jess ripostes, her voice lowering to a much more gentle tone, softly presenting her case to her fellow survivor, “I don’t have to like it in order to get used to sharing-”

“Did you kill Ameil?” Heather interjects, cutting Jess’ elucidation short as her hand remains steady, the question that lingers without an answer catching Amy’s mother by surprise. “Wh- what?” Jess replies, scrunching her face as her eyes squint forward, the woman’s approach continuing in spite of the situation that presents itself to her.

“You killed Ameil- didn’t you?” Heather repeats, jutting the barrel of her weapon in Jess’ direction as the question remains unanswered. “It didn’t click with me until the other night, but I didn’t want to believe it” Heather confesses, voluntarily stepping closer to the once-blonde survivor she’d once considered a close friend, “but you knowing about Cumberland- knowing about the family rule?- the way you’ve treated me up to now, well that- that feels off.”

Pressing her lips together, Jess straightens herself out, her squinted eyes easing as she settles into her place, dropping the act of innocence as Heather inches closer. “Mmm” Jess sighs, her hands falling to each side as she subtly nods her head, “-yeah. Yeah, I killed Ameil.”

Playing her cards effectively, Jess uses her revelation as bait to lower Heather’s guard, opening the chance for the dangerous survivor to lunge forward, swatting the gun out of her opponent’s hand before throwing her weight against the woman’s chest.

Disarmed, Heather acts on instinct alone, wrapping her arms around Jess as the woman crashes against her, using her aggressor’s velocity as a weapon to her own advantage. Her body crashing into the grass, Heather’s grasp on the Callis matriarch is thwarted as the grown woman breaks free, wrestling Heather for a superior position as their collective reach stretches toward the unclaimed firearm.

Their brief struggle forced to end, Jess focuses her efforts on overwhelming Heather, taking her open palms to the woman’s throat in an attempt to choke her into unconsciousness. Desperation kicking in, Amy’s caregiver puts her knee into Jess’ ribs, freeing herself from the fate of suffocation as her attacker climbs off, sights set elsewhere.

Struggling to her feet, Heather listens to the mechanisms jostling in her weapon from a short distance away, the shadow her body casts on the ground colliding with Jess’ own, the difference between them being the handgun that rests in the hand of the opposite woman. Knowing obedience will only allow Jess a cleaner crime, Heather follows the gun woman's lead, lunging toward Jess in a poor effort of disarming her.

With the swing of her hand, Jess lays the stock of her weapon into the side of Heather’s head, dropping the woman to the ground as she shouts in pain, her face pressing into the blades of grass. “She’s not your daughter!” Jess exclaims, resting her finger on the trigger as she takes aim at Heather’s head, the woman below turning her head to look the murderer in the eyes, “I’m not letting you take her from!- Argh!”

Her small finger squeezing the trigger, Amy fires a bullet into the small of her mother’s back, neutralising her in a moment of terror and fear. “Amy” Jess sighs, falling to a knee as she watches her daughter rush past through the strands of hair that hang before her face, seeking the embrace of the woman Jess had threatened to put down.

“Amy, don’t!” the girl’s mother cries, reaching her hand toward her daughter before pulling her reach back, unable to extend her limb too far without the bullet wound triggering a sharp, stinging pain throughout her body. “She’s not your mother!” Jess grunts, trying to return to a standing position as Heather’s arms cradle Amy tightly, reclaiming the girl as her own before hurrying into the night, hoping to avoid the wrath of a woman pushed too far past her breaking point.

Watching the pair dash through the treeline once more, Jess musters the strength to give chase, forcing herself to fight through the excruciating anguish as she reclaims her firearm, storming off into the night with her mind set on reclaiming what belongs to her.

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“Stop running so far ahead!” Jack proclaims, his wife’s silhouette easier to watch stray further ahead as the sky begins to lighten, a new day’s dawn appearing just beyond the horizon. “Keep up!” Lauren ripostes, shining a small light toward the dense coppice ahead, its minimal effect more than noticeable beneath the night.

As instructed, Jack grits his teeth and increases his pace, dragging his feet through patches of dirt before leaping over the branches and roots that occupy the ground beneath him. Unsteady as it rests within her swinging hand, the light they brighten the immediate area with swipes across the air ahead, incapable of staying still for longer than a lonely second.

“Fuck you!” a familiar, no-nonsense voice grunts to the couple’s far left, their journey immediately coming to a rest as their collective eyes take to the direction. “Was that-?” Jack begins to wonder aloud, gasping for air as he rejoins with Lauren, his inquiry halted at the sound of two gunshots that ring out in the same direction, causing need for concern.

The gun she pulls the trigger of knocked from her grasp, Nessie finds herself overwhelmed by the small gaggle of intruders that surround her, brutalising the woman that threatens their attempt at escape. Only a few metres away, Clint’s predicament proves not to be much better, his ribs and head targeted by a swarm of paranoid trespassers as he lays on the ground, helpless to fight back as kicks rain down upon him.

Trying desperately to fight back, Nessie feels her fight give in, each shove stealing the wind from her lungs before finally joining her brother on the ground, coming upon incredibly dire straits. Though heavily beaten, Nessie’s attempts to return to her feet persist, her hands pressing into the ground as her brother’s groans become more audible, the vicious attack he suffers only further fueling the woman’s starved counterassault.

“Fuckin’ finish them off!” Rocky commands, listening to his servants wail upon those he’d once considered close enough to join at the frontlines of war, the only allegiance he has left shared with his desire to outrun the consequences of his actions.

The only one of five aggressors to notice the need for immediate action, one man unnoticeably dissimilar from the rest of his flock unsheathes a knife, putting aside the child-like joy in his assault in favour of recognising the need for action. “Come on, finish them off already!” Rocky orders, seemingly offering the magic words that lead the knife-wielding marauder into action, his hand reaching toward the conquered sibling below.

Pulling his arm back, Nessie’s assailant prepares to swing his knife forward, swiping through the air with deadly intent before his body’s weight shifts, the control in his arm completely lost as a great force crashes into his back and sends him flying across the debris-covered campground.

With a gun in hand, Lauren shines her flashlight in the face of the three men that gather around Clint and opens fire, piercing each of their skulls with the pull of her trigger as her husband hurls himself through the air, shoving Nessie’s first accoster to the ground before setting his sights on the second.

A great violence awoken within him, Jack’s protective nature presents itself without the need for warning, his sights taken toward the second, much less well-built man that had accompanied Rocky’s efforts. Thrusting his head forward, Jack’s skull collides with the bridge of the second man’s nose, immediately thwarting any counterattack the opposing forces may have been capable of distributing.

Stood still with his hands by each side, Jack grits his teeth as he looks to the side, able to make out the slightest features of Rocky’s face in spite of the near-empty sky above. Returning to his feet, the first aggressor readies his knife for a second attack, plunging his hand through the air in the hopes of catching the well-intentioned man off guard to great failure.

Wrapping his hand around the man’s wrist, Jack slides his palm over the man’s hand as he steps aside, stealing the blade from the assailant’s hand before tripping him toward the ground once more. Able to see Nessie’s figure crawl to her brother’s aid, the man’s blood lust only grows deeper, his vision clouded by a foggy haze of red as he eyes the larger attacker, his blade prepared.

As if he were a butcher, Lauren’s husband takes the knife to the overweight adversary with ease, slashing at the man’s neck and chest, then following him to the ground as he collapses. With one final plunge, the man drives his blade into the large flock member’s chest cavity before turning upon the initial assailant, driving his knife into the second man’s stomach without an inch of reluctance or remorse.

“Jac-!” Lauren exclaims, her exclamation abruptly cut short at the sound of a feverish grunt, the rasp behind the voice providing Jack with a face to invoke images of. The air taken from her, Lauren’s firearm and flashlight fall to the ground as she’s taken down, struck in the face by the solid right hand of Rockford’s once leader.

His head spinning to face his wife’s direction, Jack leaves the second aggressor’s side in favour of the man that catches him by surprise. As the side of his face is battered with the handgun’s grip, Jack eats the blow and dares Rocky to deal another, the older man answering the request by raising the weapon’s barrel toward his head.

*pop*

Ripping through the trees, a bullet sores from beyond the campground’s scene and tears through Rocky’s forearm, not only providing enough damage to disarm the man, but immediately force him to a knee. An opportunity provided to him, Jack capitalises, kicking the grey-haired man in the face with enough force to put him on the ground.

Briefly paying mind to the gunman behind him, Jack’s sights set upon the grounded man that now writhes on the ground with his arm in hand. Trying to slither away, Rocky presses his boots into the ground and pushes himself onward, only thwarted by the weight that presses upon him in the form of a knee.

“You were supposed to help me!” Rocky shouts, incapable of crawling any further now that his attacker kneels upon him, his arms pinned to the ground. With a grin, Jack captures the flashlight from its bed of dirt before brightening the man’s face with its aid, a visible disgust for the powerless circumstance that he finds himself a victim of.

“What happened to our deal!?” Rocky angrily queries, shouting into the heavens as Jack’s eyes take to the immediate surroundings, “we were supposed to be in this together!” With a smirk, the man positioned with power reaches into the dirt once more, his head shaking as his hand wraps around the smooth finish of a large, unassuming stone.

“I only fight for one side” Jack answers, looking Lauren in the eyes as she stirs to her feet, shielding the wounded siblings from any further sign of danger. Returning his focus to the older survivor below, Jack shakes his head, “and that side-” the man remarks, watching Rocky’s face take on a look of horror as the dots connect, “-is not yours.”

Simply because he desires to, Jack swings his hand forward one single time, crushing Rocky’s skull with enough force to leave a dent, the groggy look in his victim’s eyes showing signs of life, but not much in the way of awareness. Letting his flashlight drop, the man cracks the skull of Rockford’s commander with enough force for the bone to protrude from skin, any remaining sign of consciousness quickly fading.

Increasing the pace, Jack brings his hand through the air again- and again- and again- repeatedly swinging at Rocky’s skull until there isn’t much of anything solid left to lay into, his fatal blow having been offered long ago. Filling his lungs with air before violently depleting them, the man’s blood-splattered face lifts toward his wife as the small boulder falls from his hand, its smooth face caked with blood.

Cautiously stepping around Rocky’s body, Salem and Angela move toward the siblings, freeing Lauren to tend to her husband’s side. Their eyes colliding, Salem and Jack stare toward each other with a graceful nod, the mystery of who’d spared his life seemingly made clear at the sight of the rifle that rests within the sniper’s hand.

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“Jess! Amy!” Emilio shouts in horror, his arms thrusting by his sides as he races through the woodlands, his motivations for entering the forest clearly differing from the rest of his group’s. “Emilio, where are you going!?” Jade exclaims, though she tries to keep up, her efforts feel insufficient when trailing behind a man whose speed far exceeds her own.

“Amy! Come back!” Jess cries out into the open air, her firearm still swinging by her side as she follows the rustling of leaves and thudding footsteps. “She’s not your mother!” the woman continues to plead, worrying that the ground she’s already given up to the caring pair is too much to overcome, the wound in her back that presents her with such extreme pain ensuring the chase remains unbalanced.

“Don’t look back!” Heather orders, pressing Amy’s head against her sternum as she hurries through overgrown vines and uneasy terrain. “Mom- stop!” Amy cries out, tightly pressing her eyes together as her head is pressed against her caregiver’s chest, fearful of her mother’s wrath, but even more horrified at the thought of what fate may await the woman whose arms she resides within.

“Jess! JESS!” Emilio barks, eying a torn piece of red and black flannel as he hurries into a clearing, not stopping for a moment as he follows the patches of grass he can see has been trifled over. “Emilio, wait up!” Jade pleads, her request incapable of reaching the man at a worse time, their ears perking at the sound of another set of fired weaponry.

Pulling her trigger, Amy fires another round in her mother’s direction, seemingly deciding that the hope of extending Jess the benefit of the doubt is no longer viable. “Oh, shit!” Heather exclaims, picking up the pace as she tears through another gap in the forest, the clearing that she enters not just an empty plot of land, but a wide and spacious open field- not an obstruction to take cover behind whatsoever.

“Amy!” Jess screams, watching her daughter’s captor take toward an open field just a short distance ahead, her firearm readied as another bullet fires off in her direction. “Give me my daughter!” Jess howls, again ducking at the sound of a third shot ringing toward her as she steps upon well-cut grass, entering the field before steadying her aim.

“Jess! Jess, sto-!” Emilio pleads, able to see a break in the woodlands approaching a few hundred metres ahead, the call of his resonant voice falling silent as yet another shot rings out, this time met with no further cover fire, its piercing sound sitting alone in a sea of grief.

Subduing his voice, Emilio opts to continue the charge toward the field he can make the small details of, brushing Jade’s chase of him aside and allowing her to follow the breadcrumbs his footsteps have left behind. Though amidst the dead of night, a lone figure slowly walks forward beneath the cover of moonlight, its luminosity giving each blade of grass a dark green colour.

Nearly too distracted to pay mind to the obstructions ahead, Emilio graces a few trees on his remaining quest toward the open field, the break in the trees now just ahead. “Emilio, wait!” Jade exclaims from behind, not wanting to thwart the man’s attempt at preventing tragedy, but not desiring the potential dangers he blindly rushes into.

“Jess! Wait!” Emilio exclaims, holding his hands outward as he bursts through the woodland’s edge, finally entering the field to see a woman staring forward with her hand by her side, the weapon within it aimed at the ground. “I don’t know what they’ve done, but this isn’t worth throwing your-” Emilio pleads, trying his best to alleviate the situation before suddenly falling silent, the unresponsiveness Jess had met him with set aside as she begins slowly walking forward.

Consumed by confusion, Emilio’s silence precedes his glance toward the open space, its trimmed grass allowing him to spot the presence of a second soul with ease, its body lifelessly lying face-down. Her grasp on the weapon depleting, Jess’ firearm falls to the ground as she walks forward, closing in on the body that rests just ahead, the desperate rage she’d been overcome by having vanished, replaced with an indescribable shock that sends shivers through her body.

“N-” Emilio sighs, listening to Jade’s footsteps reach solid ground once more, finally having caught up just as his head tilts to one side, his face falling as his eyes widen, “No.” His head falling back and face taking toward the heavens, Emilio shakes his head in refusal, a tear running down his face as a sudden shortness of breath takes over, his arms covered with goosebumps as he returns to watching the woman stagger toward the crumpled heap.

Her lip quivering, Jess’ expression fills with pain and regret as she approaches the soul she’d taken, a single wound in the back of Heather’s spine made clear in the light above. Speechless, Jess drops to her knees as she reaches toward Heather’s body, gasping for the breaths that evade her as she pushes the woman’s corpse aside, presenting her with the horrifying reality she made possible.

Limping forward with bated breaths, Emilio shakes his head as he nears closer to Jess, watching the woman wrap her arms around her daughter and lift her off the ground. Her eyelids parted, Amy’s glossy eyes stare toward nothingness, the side of her head marked by the wound that resulted in her demise- Jess’ bullet having ripped through Heather’s chest and found a second target in her daughter’s head.

Stricken with the grief of what she’d unintentionally caused, Jess falls to a seat on the ground as she cradles her daughter’s body, lightly brushing the hairs that cover her face aside as she holds back the wail of emotions that build within her. “Oh- god” Jade murmurs, pressing her hand against her mouth as Emilio continues forward, stopping a few metres away from the woman he’d known since the start of the old world’s demise.

Her daughter’s head gently resting in the small of her arm, Jess looks to the damage she’d done with clarity, an understanding of what her actions have resulted in never made clearer than right now.

Her lip quivering, Jess’ eyes pull away from her daughter’s face and take toward the man that had desperately tried to stop her, his hand holding the firearm he’d reclaimed from the ground. Shaking his head, Emilio silently offers Jess a signal, his disappointment in the job he now has to finish made resoundingly understandable.

Parting her lips, Jess gives Emilio a subtle nod, her pressed-together eyelids forcing a tear down the side of her cheek. Incapable of hiding her guilt, Amy’s mother lets out a sigh as the feelings overwhelm her, confessing her acceptance.

“I know...” Jess whispers, watching Emilio draw within a few metres, her head lifting to look the man in the eyes as she makes her own peace, “...I won’t stop you.”

Her final utterance remarked, Jess lowers her face toward her deceased daughter and presses her lips to the young girl’s head, giving it a final kiss as she holds her tight. His face flooded with a stream of tears, Emilio takes a responsibility upon himself for the sake of his group, a responsibility he takes so those he loves don’t have to.

Swallowing his pride, Emilio lifts the barrel toward Jess’ head and- in the same breath as he’d aimed it- pulls the trigger, mercifully ending the distraught mother’s fight and returning her to a life where her family can be nothing less. His will depleting the moment his shot is fired, Emilio drops the weapon and falls to the ground, his legs too weak to support his body, the grief Jess had felt now left for him to suffer through.

Crumbling to his side, Emilio lays against the ground just a few feet from the scene of a tragedy as Jade nears close, rushing into the night to come to the aid of a man she can sympathise with more than she’d like to admit. Between Amy and Heather, an empty revolver sits within the dark blades of grass, the child’s fingerprints preserved on its metallic grip, which shines brightly beneath the light above, its barrel coming to rest a mere centimetres away from a lonely pink flower.

Wrapping her arms around Emilio, Jade tries in whatever way possible to comfort the man stricken with sorrow and misery. Forced to lament the casualties, Emilio’s head rests upon the lap of Cumberland’s leader as she caresses the side of his face, unable to keep her own eyes away from the scene of such avoidable horrors. Drained of the will to fight through the anguish they dwell upon, Emilio and Jade reside within the field, quietly suffering a tragedy that’s yet to leave the ground they reside upon.

== Rise ==