S6, E8 | They're Not Salvageable

His face wrought with the suffering of his trauma, Emilio sits at his countertop with a plain black mug of coffee sat before himself, his warm palms resting against each side of the ceramic cup, its inside filled with a beverage that’s now gone cold. His lips pressed together and eyes naturally wide, the man’s facial muscles hang like bags beneath his eyes as the sun finally reaches its highest point in the sky, the clouds it hides behind refusing to allow much light to reach Cumberland.

The repetitive tapping of a knuckle calling for him at his home’s front, Emilio’s face finally takes away from the tabletop’s centre, eyes directed toward the archway between his foyer and kitchen. “Go away” the man remarks, despondent and dejected, not only irritable, but unwelcoming.

Disobeying the man’s request, Jade gently opens the door to peek her head through, her eyes immediately locking upon the occupied kitchen. Without a word, the woman steps through the door and removes her shoes, entering the man’s space with a plastic bag hanging from her wrist. Without uttering a word, Emilio watches Cumberland’s leader step into his domain without refusing her presence, the bag’s crinkling sound filling the room as it’s laid upon an unused barstool.

“I thought you might need some groceries” Jade ripostes, setting the bag down before waiting for the man across from her to respond, the silent seconds that linger between them offers more information to his mindset than words possibly could. Clicking his tongue, Emilio glances to the cup in front of him before returning his attention to the woman, “thank you” he responds simply, not a further word needed to convey his appreciation- however genuine it may be.

Nodding her head, Jade remains standing in eerie silence once more, waiting for any further remarks that may emerge- but never do. However unnecessary her company may be, Jade slides a second empty stool from the kitchen’s island before claiming it as her seat, both hands folded atop the marble counter as she stares into the man’s eyes, not much to read- if anything at all.

“Are you gonna drink that?” Jade queries, redirecting the man’s attention to the mug held between his hands, a brief glance all her acquaintance takes toward the beverage. “It’s cold” Emilio responds, his voice never once rising from the distant and downcast pitch it’d been presented with.

Nodding, Jade reaches her hand across the tabletop and takes the mug into her possession, sliding it to her person before raising it toward her lips, “coffee is coffee.” Listening to the woman’s audible first sip of his beverage, Emilio waits for her conclusion before responding further, uninterested in providing a remark for something that doesn’t require one.

With a satisfied sigh, Jade lowers the mug from her mouth, casually wiping the corner of her lips as she swallows, a light quip presented, “black coffee's still bitter as hell.” The silence furthering, Emilio stares into his guest’s eyes just as she does onto him, the room they inhabit darkening further as the clouds cover the sky more, not a bird to chirp beyond the windows, and not a roaring engine to pass the quiet street the Rawson neighbourhood was built upon.

“Did you come here looking for something?” Emilio quietly inquires, his hands now laying against the stone finish in wake of the theft of his coffee. “You know why I came” Jade answers, a sorrow held within her voice’s reflection just the same as her grieving friend, the only difference being the future-set approach she harnesses.

“No- I don’t” Emilio replies, his eyes narrowingly slightly as he responds, a subtle shake coming over his head. Lips puckered, Jade continues to stare at the horror-stricken man for a few seconds longer, maintaining a hushed-presence throughout the brief inspection.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Jade remarks, again lifting the mug- though only halfway to her mouth, allowing her to finish the thought she’d entered with, “and the rest of your people do too, but you won’t talk to them.”

“I don’t want to talk to them,” Emilio swiftly replies, watching the woman take down another swig of his once-warm brew, “-I don’t know why they’d even want to talk to me.” With a squint, Jade again wipes the corner of her mouth before answering the man’s concerns, listening to the insight he’s offered before providing her own.

“You don’t know why they’d want to talk to you?” Jade repeats, though her duplication of the response comes off with a sarcastic tone, “why they’d want to know how you’re dealing with the loss? The loss that’s hitting all of you?”

Bowing his head, Emilio’s eyes begin to circle the various rock formations sealed within the creation of his kitchen’s island. “Your people are hurting just as much as you are. They’re questioning themselves even though they shouldn’t, and it’s eati-” Jade continues, the calm tone of voice across the table preventing her from continuing as it interrupts.

“Why shouldn’t they?” Emilio queries, his face souring as his glare returns to the face opposite him, his visage tensing. “Why shouldn’t they question themselves? Why shouldn’t I?” the man asks again, continuing to speak in lieu of Jade’s answer, which remains as non-present as most of his own had been presented with, “none of us saw it coming- so why shouldn’t we be asking ourselves how we could let that happen?”

“Because you can’t always know what’s going on in someone’s head” the sturdy figure with a coffee in her reach responds without hesitation, watching the head of the man she shares the room with turn to the side and scoff. “Yeah, well- Amy knew” Emilio remarks back, drawing the curtains on Jade’s response as the woman falls silent, opening the floor for the man to continue, partially due to a lack of viable counterarguments, and partially out of respect for the man she wishes to let grieve.

“The kid knew. She knew and none of us did. She saw it, she knew, and now- she’s dead” Emilio concludes, his chin falling as he lowers his back against the rear of his seat, “-they’re all dead.”

The room falling silent once more, Jade matches Emilio’s posture, bowing her head as her tongue presses into the soft part of her mouth, a self-doubt made visually resonant. “If I hadn’t let Jess in- none of this would have happened,” the woman finally remarks, only lifting her face when Emilio does the same, “I’m more responsible for all of this than you are. So, if I’m sitting here to get us all on the right track again, there’s no reason for the rest of you not to try and do the same.”

Flashing a grin as he nods, Emilio points a finger in the woman’s direction as he frees a light chuckle, “so that’s what this is about” he remarks, pulling in a deep breath as Jade begins to answer. “Yeah. I’m sorry I have to be the one to let you know this, but the world doesn’t stop turning just because a few people die” the woman responds, a serious tone having overtaken the sympathetic approach she no longer finds a need for, “Cumberland still needs to be set on the right track.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck!” Emilio disingenuously replies, leaving his seat as he begins rounding the island, setting his path on the home’s second level, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance.” 

Tongue still pressed against the inside of her cheek, Jade wraps both hands around the mug as Emilio steps past her, beginning to leave the room before her words call him back. Eyebrows furrowed and no longer able to portray a kindness she’d wanted to maintain through the visit, Jade’s head stares toward the seat her neighbour had recently departed, speaking just loud enough for her words to catch the man’s attention.

“I guess that means you’re not interested in that ticket to Nova Scotia then, are you?” Jade quite vindictively remarks, an expression of great dissatisfaction in herself appearing along her face as she listens to Emilio’s footsteps cease. Stone-faced, Emilio pauses for a moment to digest what had just been said to him, trying to sort it from the abundance of other thoughts that flood through his head as he slowly turns back.

“What did you just say to me?” Emilio calmly queries, watching the woman strikingly climb out from her seat, staring down from the man with a much smaller stature- but a much greater place on the settlement’s chain of command. “The deal was that you- and the rest of the group- would be my closest confidants” Jade replies, leaving the coffee behind as she subtly steps closer to the man, “that you’d exterminate what’s left of Rockford and help me keep Cumberland in order.”

Disgusted, Emilio’s upper lip curls as his head leans to one side, his widened eyes paired with the white teeth he presents toward his superior. “Are you blackmailing me?” the man wonders aloud, watching Jade’s expression for a change that never arrives, neither pleasure, nor disappointment, held for him to bear witness to.

“I’m doing what I have to for my town” Jade replies, refusing to provide the man- that matches her subtle approach with one of his own- with anything less than honesty. “If that means reminding you that I reunited you with the rest of your group, let you jump the line in spite of the backlash that may hold for me, and have done nothing but provide you with care the rest of the world would kill each other to experience again-” she continues, confident and bold, “-yeah, I’m willing to do that.”

Enraged, Emilio parts the fingers on his right hand and wraps them around Jade’s throat, pushing the woman back into the kitchen and against the island, the impact of her collision with the built-in furniture shaking the room well enough to knock the cold cup of coffee over. Not one to take such aggression lightly, Jade swipes the man’s hand away from her neck and presses her heel into the man’s toes, its effect not only minimal- but essentially non-existent.

Without a moment of delay, Emilio blocks a second shot- this time Jade’s fist aimed toward his face- and side-steps the woman, his outstretched foot tripping her as she zips past him. Only the hardwood floor to break her fall, Jade crashes into the ground and immediately rolls onto her back, an attempt at inciting a return fight thwarted as her eyes fall upon the gun that Emilio wields, its barrel held between her eyes.

Defeated, Jade raises her hands in surrender, the ability for Emilio to end her life on a whim on its own enough to make her loss undisputable. Barely breaking a sweat, Emilio eases his aim on the weapon, slowly letting it fall to his side as he further steps over Jade, his feet planted upon the ground to each side of her hip before he chooses to step away.

Returning to the kitchen’s island, Emilio picks up the ceramic mug and places his weapon atop the counter, his intentions having never been to hurt Jade, but rather remind her of his brute superiority. Freed from imminent danger, Cumberland’s leader slowly returns to her feet, allowing the man a few metres away to make do with their brief altercation’s aftermath.

“We’re done” Emilio suddenly murmurs, reaching into a cabinet beneath the island, where he retrieves a roll of paper towels, tending to the spill. Confused, Jade watches the man swipe at the trail her drink left behind before presenting her inquiry. “What does that mean?” the woman asks back, her eyes kept on Emilio as he strolls to the nearest bin, discarding the soaked towels before setting the empty mug into his equally-empty sink.

“It means we’re done” Emilio responds, finally turning to look the woman in the eyes once more before approaching her casually, neither survivor interested in rehashing their conflict. Pressing his lips together, Emilio lets the gears in his brain turn as he looks the woman in the eyes from up close, Jade’s silence offered purposefully.

“John, Jess, and Amy- Meghan and Janice- both Tyler’s- Reggie, Shauna” Emilio names, each weighing on him just as much as the rest, the people the memories belong to sharing a fate he knows is inevitable for all, “Heather and Cameron, Troy and Katie... Bill... We’ve lost too many people fighting for this.”

Her face softened at the mention of his predecessor's name and only weakening the further he moves along, Jade lets Emilio’s thoughts conclude before presenting the question that appears obvious in her mind. “Fighting for what?” the woman queries, lifting her chin to look the man in the eyes- wanting to hear him say the words.

With a distraught visage, Emilio parts his lips to answer, only able to do so with a whisper. “Fighting for a home” the man replies, visible pain carried in the wake of every soul they’ve lost along their journey, “fighting for a place where we won’t be asked to lose people anymore.”

Struck with a chill that lingers as the man steps past her, Jade only raises her voice to ask one further question, quietly acknowledging what they’ve already sacrificed for herself and the compound she takes greater care of than anything else in life. “Is that their decision?” the woman calls back, not wasting a beat in turning around the moment Emilio’s footsteps cease once more, their eyes colliding as she clarifies her question, “or is it yours?”

With one foot already placed on the bottom-most step, Emilio’s head takes toward Jade, the silence between them intended to last until an answer is given.

With his left hand on the bannister, Emilio’s eyes freeze upon Jade, his expression ever once changing as his voice lifts just loud enough for the woman to hear. “Those are interchangeable now” the man responds, carrying himself the rest of the way up the stairs as he leaves Jade behind, the woman’s posture unchanged as Emilio ascends each step just as he had the one prior, not backing down from his claim- but rather leaving it behind for those other than himself to accept.

= 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 =

“That’s a good boy, Royo” Katie murmurs, patting her horse’s muzzle whilst spraying him with the hose, his soapy hide rinsed of its bubbly coating. Pressed between her hand and the rubber tubing the water pours out from, the cleanser-covered sponge falls to the ground as Katie’s grasp on it slips, her eyes taken toward the dirt road that leads from the main street and to her shared townhouse, a single truck slowly approaching from the distance.

Wiping her wet hand at her leg as she takes her rifle into hand, Katie keeps behind her trusted steed in hopes of remaining unnoticed, afforded time if an attack she has no reason to anticipate were to rear its head. “Hold steady, buddy” Katie whispers, lowering herself slightly to fully conceal herself from the vehicle that now slows to a stop, its lights powering down as its gears shift into park, a familiar man emerging from the driver’s seat alone.

Made unaware of Katie’s presence at first, Astor steps along the dirt road on his way to the home’s front door, his each step watched by the woman he’s come to talk with from afar. “Are you armed?” Katie calls out from behind Royo’s large frame, immediately prompting the man the turn toward her, his right hand extending toward the air as he reaches for his hip.

In a calm motion, Astor presents Katie with his handgun, its barrel pointed toward the sky as he gently lowers it to the ground, casually kicking it off the wooden patio the woman’s home hosts at its entrance. “I used to think you’d get less paranoid once you got comfortable here” Astor quips, his hands subtly returning to his sides as he descends the same steps he’d climbed not minutes prior, his approach toward Katie matched by the woman’s own.

“Who said I ever got comfortable?” Katie inquires, keeping her rifle in tow by the strap over her shoulder, her progression forward stopping as she and the man maintain the distance of a few metres. Shrugging in the distance of the St. Lawrence, Astor bobs his head, “I suppose you have been a stubborn ass ever since I’ve met you” he remarks, flashing the woman a smile as his hands slide into each pocket, “maybe I shouldn’t have set my expectations so high.”

Her lips held together, Katie presses her tongue into the corner of her mouth as she surveys their surroundings, the open fields filled with near-ready crops for as far as their eyes can reach. “It’s a sunny day in the middle of the summer- there’s plenty the two of us could be doing right now” the woman changes course, her arms crossing as Astor’s smile- though still present- begins to fade from its previously-full stature, “-why take the time out of your day to come here?”

Releasing a sigh, Astor’s face drifts into the distance once more before his mouth opens, a slight concern taken to what the woman’s reaction will be. “How much do you care about the people here?” the island’s chosen leader queries, leaving one hand in his pocket and he strolls up to Royo’s side, stroking the side of his head as the question remains unanswered.

“I wouldn’t wish a zombie apocalypse on them- does that count?” Katie responds, her arms remaining crossed as her body turns in her superior’s direction, eyes kept upon his person. “I’d say that’s a good start- certainly” Astor ripostes, his eyes pressing closer as he tips his chin forward, a nod given to the younger survivor, “what else?”

Confused, yet perceptive to the challenge, Katie lets her hands fall, the woman returning to her prior duties as she reaches for the hose that lays lazily in a patch of mud that now sits topped with a puddle. “I cared enough about getting along with them to try learning French,” the woman remarks, earning a chuckle Astor hides well, his face and shirt splashed with whatever water runs off Royo’s body.

“En parlant de quoi, votre français est-il toujours d'actualité ?” Orleans Island’s chief answers back, the corner of his white teeth appearing through the part in his lips. “It’s coming along well enough to know that you’re trying to get at something” Katie abruptly answers back, the playful expression on Astor’s face slightly undoing as she reclaims the conversation’s initial point, “I care about them enough to not want to see them in trouble- so what’s your point?”

Quickly tiring of dancing around the conversation’s destination, Katie addresses the elephant in the field outright, scrubbing at Royo’s pelt as Astor’s amused expression lowers, his austere guise reemerging. Staring back to the woman without a word for a few moments, Astor does as requested, hanging his head.

“I’m making the call to merge Orleans Island with PEI” Astor confesses, surprising Katie for a few seconds before her rational thinking kicks in, the shocked look on her face swiftly falling in favour of a content nod. “That’s a- that’s a big move” the young woman replies, offering a nod as she finishes swiping at her stallion’s coat, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Shaking his head, Astor prepares to apologise to the woman, aware of her disinterest long before his decision had been made, though its existence does nothing to dissuade him. “But I want to remind you of the same thing I told that woman back in the ‘States-” Katie interjects, not allowing the man to speak before offering her wishful hopes, “the people you’re walking with- the people that jumped on the chance to rule the ashes of a burned-out world- those people do.”

“Gamble’s not with those people” Astor quickly corrects, watching the woman narrow her eyes as they remain attached to him, “-at least, he’s not anymore.” Her head shaking, Katie lets the hose fall from her hand as she reaches toward the clothesline for a dry towel. “That’s not how the New World Order usually does things” Katie replies, drying Royo off as she waits for Astor to quell her confusion.

“Is mass murder one of the things they do?” Astor queries, watching the woman’s attendance to her horse stop as she freezes, caught by surprise at his question. “Gamble said they started funnelling survivors into PEI once they took in too many people for the mainland to handle comfortably” the man explains as Katie’s drying of Royo’s hide slowly resumes, “since then- whenever Nova Scotia needs more room in PEI- people go missing.”

Her concern raising from a slight amount to something more definite, Katie remains quiet to continue hearing the man’s point, yet to see why it’s any of her concern. “Nova Scotia started housing their cruise ships on the island until recently- when the people in charge realised they were losing support” Astor concludes, following Katie as she circles Royo’s large frame, “now Gamble’s not following their orders, and he’s worried this scuffle’s gonna turn into an outright war soon enough.”

“So why choose to join up with the island that seems pretty sure they’re about to lose?” Katie queries, her head tilting to one side as a better question suddenly arises, “-better yet, why are you telling me this?” His eyes rolling, Astor continues to follow the woman around her steed, the towel tossed aside as she reaches for Royo’s leather saddle.

“Because Gamble wants to make sure you come along with us” Astor responds, listening to humoured laughter arrive from Katie’s core as the statement lingers. “Ninety percent of this place is made up of people that closed the bridge down when the world took a turn- we don’t have many capable hands to choose from!” the man remarks, at least providing validation to his claims, “and with that said- you’re the only person here who’s seen the outside in the last two years.”

“Then find another reliable pair of hands!” Katie lashes back, tossing the saddle atop Royo before turning to speak directly to the man behind, “I’ve fought my wars and made it out alive- standing on the front lines again isn’t something I’m interested in.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Astor finds himself thwarted, the woman’s remarks paid to him as a conversation-ender. “The answer’s no, Astor” Katie doubles down, reclaiming Royo’s lead before directing him back to the home, her words still directed toward the leader she leaves behind, “your fight isn’t mine anymore.”

|

As a crowd of concerned civilians pile onto the grounds of town hall, Lauren remains standing to the side, coping with her grief just as the rest of her group does whilst waiting for events to begin. The clear, blue sky capturing her undivided attention, she drowns out the surrounding banter in favour of numbing herself, passing the time by pretending the concept of it doesn’t exist.

At the sensation of a gentle squeeze, Lauren emerges from her intentional-comatose, swinging her face toward the one man that may spark enough joy within her to make the fight through suffering worthwhile. “I think someone’s trying to get your attention” Jack whispers, lowering his face close to his wife’s before diverting it toward a break in the crowd, a familiar visage worn on the person that looks to Lauren’s direction as they wave.

Arriving at the town’s centre alone, Grace brushes shoulders with a few of her fellow residents as she makes her way to the devoted couple, her familiarity with either face drastically different. To her left, a woman she’d worked beside for months resides next to a man she’d never once seen before, his expression as forcefully-welcoming as the one his wife wears.

Though their friendship had never been the closest thing she’d held dear, Lauren’s genuine joy to see a familiar face not stricken with distress emerges on an unmeasurable scale. Without uttering a word, Lauren steps ahead of Jack and wraps her arms around Grace, pulling the woman in for an unanticipated hug.

“Mark this as a first!” Grace remarks, reciprocating the embrace with surprise, not used to her colleague being the friendly type. “When it’s needed- it’s needed” Lauren replies, pulling out from the hold as she steps aside, extending her arm to their third wheel. “I’m Jack- it’s nice to meet you” the man introduces himself, extending the hand the woman proceeds to shake, still greatly disassociated from the pleasantries much of society had forced into normality.

“So you’re the man Lauren could never stop talking about?” Grace jokes, giving her friend an impressed nod, “-you didn’t do too bad for yourself, girl!” Appreciative, Lauren offers the woman a smile as a hand presses into both Jack’s and her own lower back, yet another familiar face greeting the small group.

“Where’s the rest of you guys?” Emilio wonders aloud, his wrinkled, white t-shirt a product of spending the entirety of the night prior asleep. “They’re helping Clint and Nessie move into their new place-” Jack answers, his eyes squinting prior to the conclusion of his own response, “-why?”

His face panning across the crowd, Emilio’s eyes search for another recognisable visage from within the increasingly-cramped crowd. “Because Archie came by after his sister left yesterday- he said you were all supposed to be out here” the man replies, continuing to scan the mass heap of life that collects before him, “-why are you guys here then?”

“They already had too many hands helping” Lauren responds, looking past Emilio’s shoulder at the sight of another expression she can pin a name to, finishing her reply before their conversation can be interrupted, “-we figured they’d be better off with fewer people to run into.”

His hand gently smacking Emilio on the shoulder, Archie pulls his head in the direction of town hall’s front steps, the building they lead to presented as the obvious centre of attention. “I didn’t come by yesterday out of the good in my heart- that was Jade’s job” Archie remarks, confessing to the ruse he’d set the man up to walk into, “come on- get up there now.”

His lip curling, Emilio’s snarl is immediately returned to the oldest McKee son, met with both hands lifting in surrender. “I’m just the messenger- don’t even bother pulling out that gun, quick-shot” Archie remarks, trying to lighten the mood as best he can, “you’ve already done the hardest part. If your eyes are still on Nova Scotia- it should all be smoother sailing from here.”

Pressing his eyes together, Emilio watches Cumberland’s commander step through the door’s of town hall, her presence immediately bringing a hush over the crowd. “I may not have swung by yesterday out of the good of my heart, but I’m here now out of it-” Archie doubles down, his voice descending from the tough, no-nonsense reflection it’d carried before, “just get up on the stage, smile and nod- maybe wave a few times- and you’ll keep those tickets to Nova Scotia... But this is your only chance.”

Parting his lips without the words to speak with, Emilio glances back toward the staircase as the muscles in his face ease, looking at Archie with a disappointed- yet accepting- frown. Without as much of a ‘see you later’, the man- led to the gathering under false pretences- follows Archie’s lead toward the side of town hall’s entrance, climbing onto their superior’s level from within the cover of shadows.

Yet to speak a word, Jade watches her brother guide Emilio toward the inner circle that stands behind her, representing Cumberland’s most-trusted elite in a show of solidarity and respect. “I won’t lie to any of you- what’s been happening over the last few days truly pisses me off” the woman proclaims, her eyes set on those that look to her for clarity in a time of uncertainty.

“To have people try to steal our home- everything we’ve worked to build here- it sickens me” Jade continues, both Emilio and her brother left standing with their hands coupled at their lap, joining the front line of saving leadership’s face, “what sickens me more is that I didn’t do enough to stop it.”

Though her only reason for holding this conference lies within the task of maintaining a healthy grasp on her power, Jade speaks from a place of truth, her admittance less vague than the circumstances that host it. “But I didn’t ask you out here so I could apologise- I asked you out here so I can make it right to you” she continues, her voice naturally loud enough to be heard without the aid of a microphone and podium, two things that she refuses to keep close.

Stood at the front steps of the building she refuses to use on principle, Jade looks to her people without anything to shield herself behind, wanting both metaphorically- and literally- to show those she rules over that there is nothing that separates herself from them. “I wanted you to hear it from me that we’ve not only located those in charge of the people who’d invaded us- but we’ve taken action upon them” she remarks, a few nods given to her below, “-they cannot hurt you anymore.”

Though many remain sceptical- and for good reason- a large number of hands begin to slam together, applauding the efforts of the administration their livelihoods depend upon to survive. His own hopes riding on the reception, Emilio’s face takes on a light response, his hands joining those in the crowd as they slowly applaud.

Her surveying of those below eventually guiding her sights to those behind her, Jade’s eyes fall upon Emilio, whose applause brings a brief smile over her face, which fixates on the man for a few seconds. As a few additional applauses emerge from below- likely joining out of a desire to fit in- her focus on Emilio takes away from those near the bottom of the steps, watching his face gradually lighten with genuine appreciation before suddenly taking a turn for the worse.

At the sound of one round, Emilio’s hand reaches for the weapon on his waist, its barrel taking aim at the baggy clothes-wearing figure as it proceeds to fire a second shot of its own. Operating off the adrenaline of his shock, Emilio’s finger squeezes the trigger before the attacker’s weapon can fire a third bullet, his single round the only thing needed to isolate the situation.

Stumbling back, Jade’s hands press against her chest as she struggles for balance, incapable of seeing her assassin’s face before surrendering to the pain. Within seconds, the woman responsible for leading the reunion of Cumberland’s people falls to the ground, her blood pooling onto the stone walkway as her executioner collapses onto the stairs she’d stood atop, shot dead by Emilio’s hand.

As screams erupt from below, Jade’s inner circle rushes to her aid, most armed in an effort to prevent a follow-up attack from being launched. With his weapon still in tow on instinct, Emilio departs from the rest of the men and women he’d joined on stage, approaching the scene of the attack as opposed to its aftermath.

As he nears closer to the edge, the steps come into vision, the body that lifelessly occupies it laid face-up. His mouth agape, Emilio’s weapon falls the rest of the way to his side, able to recall the woman’s identity the moment her face- lightened by the hot sun above- is presented to him. Speechless, the man rolls his eyes in disbelief as his body turns around completely, walking back to where the elitist line once stood without certainty of how to react.

Her grey hoodie and black sweatpants untouched by the bullet wound in the side of her head, Annie’s spread arms come to a rest a short distance from the intended murder weapon, the whites of her eyes shown through her parted eyelids. Already numbed, Emilio’s soul practically flees from his body, unable to process the events still unfolding as a team of paramedics climb to Jade’s aid, risking a second attack he knows will not arrive in an effort to save their leader’s life.

Her kindness leaving an impact on him, Emilio’s mind immediately calls her husband’s death into question, the grief left by Jess’ actions having yet to fully play out unbeknownst to him. With empty eyes, Emilio lays himself on the ground before sitting against town hall’s stone exterior, the awe he’s been overcome by drowning all sounds into one, unimportant and easy-to-ignore hum as the shock consumes him.

|

Travelling light, Katie rides Royo along the mostly-empty freeway as night begins to fall, the sky just light enough for the woman to make out much of her immediate surroundings. The sunset painting the St. Lawrence River in beautiful colours, the young woman guides her stallion through the grass-covered roadway and past abandoned vehicles that once littered her path.

The lights on Orleans Island to her back, Katie leaves a life she’d tried to make work behind in favour of greener pastures, disappointed to find her hand forced as it has been, though confident another place worthy of being called ‘home’ will appear to her.

“Oh, fuck you” Katie mutters beneath her breath, both eyes taking to the glowstick that waves in the roadway’s centre, the person responsible for making an attempt at collecting her attention deliberately blocking the one path through an assortment of scattered vehicles. As vehicles surround him, the narrow opening between two trucks sit to each of Max’s sides, refusing to allow Katie any further safe voyage.

“You couldn’t even say goodbye?” the man jokes, watching Royo slow to a stop as Katie refuses to match his amused demeanour, an obvious annoyance carried within her remarks. “That’s always been the plan” the woman responds, remaining atop her steed as she speaks to the man thwarting her departure.

“The moment Astor told me he wasn’t satisfied with isolating the island- I knew this place wouldn’t last” Katie explains, not pulling punches with her honesty, “had I known that sooner, I would’ve never gotten close to any of you. Hell- I wouldn’t have even left Toronto.”

“And even after that- you stayed” Max counters, the response carrying enough truth for his roommate to find difficulty arguing. “Yeah, I stayed. I’m sorry for having thought I could talk some sense into the man- it’s my bad” Katie replies, shrugging her shoulders as her intentions remain intact, “but now I’m correcting it. I’m leaving, and I’m doing so without putting up a fight. If you wanna go north, that’s fine by me- but I’m not taking part in a war I’ve got no interest in.”

“You do have interest in it” Max swiftly argues back, watching the woman’s face contort with befuddlement, curious for elaboration. “You stayed at Orleans because- if Astor wasn’t as interested in making friends- you knew it was a suitable place to stay permanently” the man continues, taking one step out from the blockade’s opening, “that’s why you chose not to stay in Toronto. You may have had a whole compound to yourself- unfinished or not- but you knew there was something better.”

“You’re not making a point, Max” Katie unapologetically informs, her eyes rolling as she waits for the man to finish speaking, only interested in making it off the freeway before the sun sets. “Yeah, I am. You’re not leaving us because there’s somewhere better- you’re leaving because you don’t like the choice we’re making” the man replies, Royo’s jockey not refusing his conclusion.

“Because it’s gonna get you all killed!” Katie snaps back, her patience dwindling the further the dying bulb in the sky sinks beneath the river’s surface, “I don’t get why you’re all so willing to die for these people, but I’m not! So please, move out of my way.”

His expression reading defeat, Max’s head hangs as the woman waits for his response, much of the argument he can offer falling aside at her verbal refusal. Looking to the ground, the man steps out from the sea of cars, freeing the narrow path for his friend to traverse, not offering anything more than his disappointed expression as a ‘goodbye.’

Matching the sentiment, Katie guides Royo onward, his legs gently navigating the split in the graveyard of automobiles at his rider’s command, leaving the large man that had impeded his progress behind. Her journeys having taken her down this road many times before, Katie’s eyes press together as she allows her beloved companion navigate the route on his own, a lingering thought in the back of her mind believing that she’d yet to escape Orleans Island the way it appears she has.

“I lost my brother and sister trying to get here” Max calls out, immediately drawing a sigh from deep within the woman as she beckons Royo to a halt, her eyelids parting as her horse turns around. “We heard about a place in Concord when everything started- spent a few weeks coming up from Springfield to get there” Max recalls, his eyes still kept toward the ground as Katie watches him, trying not to let her sympathy outweigh her better judgement.

“When Neville died, everything started falling apart. The people that stepped up couldn’t get control and everyone started fighting” the man continues, unable to see the snarl in Katie’s lip, “that’s when I lost my little brother. It wasn’t long after that when we found out about people in Quebec- my sister figured it was worth a shot.”

Swallowing her pride, Katie glances in the direction behind her, watching the gradual darkening of the sky settle in faster, the light yellow glow it’d taken on turning to a dark, citrusy-orange. “I can already guess where you’re going with this” the woman remarks, trying to maintain her emotional distance by putting on an undisturbed visage.

“You really don’t” Max responds, finally turning his head to look the young woman in her eyes, his own drawing closer together as the haunting memories make their return to the surface. “Blaise and Aude were with us too. They’d been vacationing in White Mountains when shit hit the fan- so they found their way to Concord” the man continues, the twist admittedly catching Katie by surprise, “when the talk about Quebec came around, they cast their vote. So we- and a few others- started north.”

Her stoic poise falling, Katie’s rigid demeanour begins to fall, replaced with a genuine distaste for each new, more harrowing twist. “We ran into a group when we were crossing the border- and that’s where I lost my sister” Max remarks, successfully keeping back tears as his face takes on a vengeful wrath, “Blaise and Aude aren’t convinced but I know- I know it was the people you talk about... The people in Nova Scotia.”

Her breath stolen, Katie pulls her head back whilst Max shakes his own, a quiet rage held within his remarks she’d never known him to be capable of. Spitting on the overgrowth-covered asphalt, the man glances toward the sunset with a sour expression as the sweat trickles off the side of his face.

“Why go along with Astor’s plan?” Katie questions aloud, watching the man silently redirect his attention upon her, “why would he even want to contact Nova Scotia if he knows what they did to you?”

“Because he doesn’t- all we told him was that a few thugs shot at us, stole our shit, and killed my sister” Max quickly replies, an angered grin appearing through his lips. “Besides, if it were Nova Scotia that found us, I’d finally get a shot at having my revenge- even if I had to die for it” the man continues, doubling down on his remarks without daring to talk himself out of it, “but since it’s these people instead? Revenge isn’t a suicide mission- it’s my way forward.”

Her head hanging, Katie lets the man’s words sink in before his voice catches her ear once more, her conscience prodded further. “I thought you’d know better than anyone else-” Max remarks, beginning to pull away as he makes peace with the woman’s decision, his feet carrying him back in the direction of Orleans Island as he takes a pause, subduing a weep at the thought of being the only one with such thoughts, “-how it feels to want revenge on the people that killed your family.”

|

His right foot repeatedly tapping against the linoleum tiles, Emilio’s eyes keep toward the frantic waiting room as his hands sit in his lap, more still than a surgeon’s mid-operation. All other seats already occupied, Jack and Lauren lean against each other a few metres to his side, the nine-fingered man’s arms wrapped around his wife’s waist as the second hand on the mounted analog clock.

Paying little mind to the chaos that surrounds him, Emilio remains hunched over, his elbows pressing against his thighs as his mind wanders elsewhere, leaving behind an expression of great discouragement. “Do you think she’s gonna make it?” Angela wonders aloud, her question subdued slightly as her gaze is shared through the room, the rest of her group left waiting in a similar fashion as their leader, quiet and distant, anxiously waiting for information they haven’t already been given.

“She took two bullets to the chest” Franklin murmurs, his left arm used as a pillow for his wife’s head to rest upon, her eyes closed and face relaxed, “-it’s a miracle she made it into surgery.” Lips pressed together, Emilio listens to the conversation that happens around him, the early hours of the morning setting in as the sun appears upon the horizon, signalling a day separate from one of eventful proportions the day prior.

“I don’t see the point in speculation” Salem remarks, all eyes aside from Emilio and Alicia’s taking toward her direction, “we’re better off figuring out where we go from here- like, what happens to our agreement if she doesn’t pull through.” His shoulders shrugging, Clint looks to the woman in confusion, “I thought they all made that call- not just Jade.”

“It was a Jade call” Emilio responds, cutting through the conversation as he becomes the discourse’s focus, “the McKee’s may honour it, but the call exists as long as Jade does.” Her rifle resting against the wall just to the side, Salem steps closer into the room’s centre, her eyes kept on the man ahead as she speaks.

“Just to be safe- let’s cover all of our bases” the woman remarks, her arms remaining hung by each side as she comes to a stop, the question of the hour left for Emilio to answer, “-what happens if they don’t?”

“Then we stay here until we earn our ticket” their leader swiftly replies, his head casually shaking as his eyes drift toward the distance, his response offered in a nonchalant manner. “Some of us may never get there that way” Jack remarks, his chin resting on the back of Lauren’s neck, “the only guarantee we have is Alicia and Fra-”

Interrupted by the sound of emerging life, Jack falls silent as Archie steps through the doors of the surgical unit, his entry bringing an instant hush over the small, yet packed waiting area. His eyes puffy and red, the skin around them as pale as the rest of his face, Jade’s older brother comes to a rest halfway through the door, one hand extended to hold the barrier open as he collects his bearings.

A long breath drawn outward, Archie runs his fingers through his hair- its length growing to the point of needing a trim- as his words cut through the silence like a pair of scissors to paper. “She got lucky” the man murmurs, the update he offers purposefully kept simple and brief before his face takes to Emilio, “she’s asking for you.”

His eyebrows furrowing momentarily, Emilio takes a look toward the rest of his group before answering the request, leaving his chair with a navy baseball cap in his grasp. Joining Archie at the surgical centre’s wing, the more-affirmed man squeezes through the opening between his friend and the door before venturing through the wing, his eyes peering into each room as Jade’s brother remains where he’d left off, taking in a wave of relief at the wing’s exit.

After a few short minutes of wandering, Emilio arrives at his destination, the first steps he takes when entering the recovery room drawing the wounded warrior’s attention. “My brothers said you were waiting for me” Jade remarks, her voice frail as its assertion wanes, both Isaac and Oliver sat in respective chairs at the room’s end, watching over their older sister with care.

“You can’t really fault me for being concerned” Emilio answers, refusing to concern himself with the sensation of uneasiness that threatens to swallow him as he takes a seat near the woman’s beside. “I appreciate it nonetheless” Jade replies, the blanket pulled up to her hip’s level as the johnny gown covers the rest of her surgically-restored body, “it’s difficult remembering how people used to be sometimes- even when you’ve sort of never left it.”

Squinting, Emilio’s head nods as he crosses one leg over the other, his hands coupling together atop his lap. “Seeing it from our perspective doesn’t make it any better” the man reassures, his eyes falling toward his hands as he fishes for the right words within his head, “I forgot how long it took me to not reach for my axe every time I rolled out of bed.”

“It’s like once you see how it works outside- you can’t see things the same way anymore, isn’t it?” Jade ripostes, a gesture that earns Emilio’s full attention once more. As a disheartened grin comes over his face, the man’s head falls back toward his lap, his eyes wandering over the paired hands.

“When we were back at the New World Order, John told Bill and I something- right when everything was falling apart- that I didn’t understand until now” Emilio remarks, taking a few additional seconds before restoring eye contact with the injured commander beside him. “He said ‘they’re not salvageable’- our people, they- they started killing each other” the man explains, the recollection horrifying him, “I always thought I knew what he was saying- and I always thought he was wrong.”

Squinting, Jade keeps herself quiet, not wishing to impede the man from finishing his thought, too invested in the story to put an abrupt halt to it. “I used to think he meant the people inside of the compound- the ones that hadn’t been exposed to what happened out there- and maybe he was” Emilio explains, each eye growing watery as he looks his acquaintance in the eyes, his head shaking, “but I’ve started to think he was trying to tell us something... more”

Following their sister’s lead, Isaac and Oliver remain respective observers, allowing the conversation to take part without them despite the brief glances Emilio pays toward their direction. “When they locked me up on that island- right after we found Sun City- I started wondering if he was just talking about people in general” the man goes on, reluctant to finish his thoughts out of fear that he’ll break the final line of denial he retains, though adamant that he must.

“I thought he was wrong. I thought the people in the New World Order were salvageable- I thought anyone was salvageable” Emilio concludes, his head tilted toward one side as a single tear runs down the side of his face, forcing himself to continue, “but then I figured out what he actually meant.”

Having assumed the man’s options had already depleted, Jade allows the third possibility to be spoken into existence, still uncompromising in her acceptance of his pace. “He was trying to protect them- just like he always did. He was telling himself- all the way up to the end- that, just because they’d seen evil, it didn’t mean they couldn’t unsee it” Emilio finishes, swiping the tear from his skin as his head shakes once more, “but he was wrong.”

Exhaling, Jade’s eyes lower as she raises the question that lingers on her mind, “what are you saying, Emilio?” A look content coming over his visage, the man rests back in his seat as his arms fall upon the sides of his chair, “I’m trying to do what John did for them- for us-” Emilio responds, doing right by the past by taking its lessons to the future, “I’m warning you that- the Cumberland you knew two weeks ago... is not the Cumberland you’ll ever see again.”

Raising slightly, Jade’s chin takes toward the air as her head presses further into her pillow, goosebumps noticeably forming on her arms and legs as a chill follows her spine as if it were a route. Her lips pressing together, Cumberland’s leader lets Emilio’s declaration settle as he leaves the seat beside her, departing the way he’d arrived as the omen lingers like a bad mood, striking fear into the hearts of the McKee family whilst offering them a chance to know what declination may spark.

== Rise ==