S8, E1 | From Charlottetown to the Shoreline

Season 8 Premiere.

“Down the hall, chancellor” a man in a white coat remarks, pointing to the end of a hallway that serves as the answer to the question asked by Nova Scotia’s new leader, whose feet sprint through the corridors of medical equipment and waiting patients in search of his point for showing up. Allowed to travel freely without the bother of professionals attempting to stop him from progressing any further through the building, Emilio begins drawing closer to the end of his travels with each new corner passed.

“Of course he’s coming, can’t you hear his footsteps?” an unmoved Jack questions back, standing against the wall before the patient room’s entrance with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised to the woman that asks for his clarification. Satisfied enough with the reply, Lauren takes her attention back to those upon the beds laid out before them whilst their chancellor arrives, struggling to catch his breath as he ventures beyond the room’s open door.

Taken back by the sight that befalls him, Emilio remains paused for a moment between the hallway and the cramped quarters never intended to house four patients at a time, let alone a plethora of their loved ones. With as much of a grin he can muster through the surprise, the group’s de facto leader looks at Clint and Nessie before allowing his sights to venture past an unfamiliar man beside them and an incredibly well-remembered woman off to his side.

“Well I’ll be damned” Emilio mutters aloud, pulling his head back as the sore survivor looks past her friends with a smile. “I was told I wouldn’t even believe it if I saw you in person, and I guess that person was right” the chancellor remarks, watching Katie wince as she climbs off the bed and fights through her ailments, her left arm in a cast and sling as the man approaches.

“That would be me, I’m the person that was right” Jack jokingly gloats, lifting a hand into the air as the chancellor scoffs at him, continuing to approach before gently resting his palm against the reunited woman’s stabilised arm. “What can I touch without fearing that I’ll break you into tiny pieces?” Emilio inquires, watching the younger woman smile before she steps into his opposite arm, allowing Nova Scotia’s new, temporary leader to lightly embrace his former apocalyptic journeywoman.

“Give her more credit than that. If you want to break her into pieces, you’ll have to clear some time in your schedule” Harvey mocks in a soft tone, his reflection clearly carried through exhaustion and pain as he remains the only patient yet to sit up. “Oh shit, you’re awake!” Katie remarks in a gasp before stepping out of the chancellor’s arms, approaching the bedside of her Prince Edward escapee.

“Who’s this?” Emilio wonders aloud, not knowing how else to phrase the question as he points toward the victim, choosing to be blunt as opposed to sparing concern for feelings. “I’m Har-” the man begins to respond, trying to sit upright before the gentlest push from Katie’s hands easily return him to the comfortless hospital mattress.

“Lay your ass back down, you broken shell of a man” the woman comments, phrasing the demand in the form of a joke to ease the emphasis she’s laid it down with. “His name is Harvey. He’s with Katie” Nessie responds, sitting atop a hospital bed with a pair of crutches laying beside her, always within an arm’s reach as her left leg bears the weight of a heavy boot.

“I don’t know if that means they’re dating or if he’s genuinely here because he was just with Katie when...” Emilio responds, suddenly letting his eyelids fall into a squint as he pauses, “...wait, what the hell actually happened out there? Why are you all broken?” Keeping his amusement to himself, Jack lets his smile fall toward the ground just as the rest of his face does, his head shaking in spite of its new, downward direction.

“Boat crash” Clint answers, the only survivor of the four to not bear the scars of war through the necessity of an alternative device, “we played chicken with a Prince Edward patrol boat and won at a cost.”

“Nessie caught a broken foot and Katie fractured her arm, but her friend took the worst of the damage” Lauren doubles down, sitting on a stool off to Clint’s side before turning back, “broken back, fractured forearm, broken clavicle, hairline fracture in his shin and a concussion on top of all of that.”

“That last one is like the really annoying cherry on top of an injury sundae” Harvey comments through a deep and prolonged groan as he tries to shift his body upward, wanting to position himself into the closest thing to a seated position that he can muster. “You’re alive and plenty of people in your position wouldn’t be able to say the same. Consider yourself lucky” Emilio replies, turning back toward the way he’d come before spinning back toward the group, “where’s Alicia and Franklin?”

“They’re on the way. Give it a little bit of time” Jack responds, watching the chancellor turn back to face him before glancing at the watch on his wrist. “I have to meet Jade at the border in two hours” Emilio murmurs, frowning as he looks toward the patient that stands at the side of her fellow defector.

“If you’ve got to go, we don’t want to keep you. We can catch up later on... It’s not like we’re going anywhere” Clint remarks, passively mocking his sister by shrugging toward her, “and that applies to Nessie double.” Grimacing at her brother out of humour, Nessie lifts her crutch from the floor and watches her sibling’s palms immediately present themselves in a show of surrender.

“Are you guys going to be able to get somewhere to lie low if I head out?” Emilio inquires, looking toward the patient’s before the voice of the man behind him answers the question instead. “They’ll all be staying at our place for a little bit. We’ll bring them home whenever the doctors let us” Jack assures, continuing to keep his voice low and tone composed as he nods to the chancellor, “they’ll be looked after.”

Flashing the man a smile, Emilio pats Jack on the shoulder before walking toward the door and taking a final glance in Katie’s direction, their eyes locking as the chancellor offers his well wishes. “I’m glad to have you back” he remarks, stepping through the exit as the young traveller presents a smile upon her face, watching the man’s figure wander off around the corner.

= Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 3 onwards, including the first two seasons of Rise: Remastered =

Staring blankly at the opposite end of the room with his hands folded atop the desk, Gamble remains speechless, his lips continuing to press together defiantly in lieu of uttering a word. Giving the man that speaks to him anything other than the time of day, the national sovereign of his separatist island carries his reserved demeanour in a way that leaves those that share the room with him an uncertainty over whether or not the leader is taking in any of the information being offered to him.

“Our enforcement officers are beginning to crack down on the public disruption to great effect. The streets are being cleared with rapid ease” a young gentleman explains as he stands before the sovereign with hands coupled together in his lap. Still seemingly in refusal to offer any physical shift in his posture, Gamble leaves the informant out in the cold for a reaction, not moving even the slightest inch of his muscles in response to what is being spoken.

“There is still the concern that some of Emilio Vasquez’s comments have influenced some within our borders, so it’ll likely be best if-” the youthful survivor comments, only to fall silent once Gamble’s calm and respectful voice infiltrates the line of speech that he calls his own. “What does the public think?” the nation’s sovereign wonders aloud, his blank stare held firmly as the young man pauses, taking the inquiry into consideration for a few moments before replying.

“The public can be given clarifications that will ease their-” the early-20’s informant begins to reply, only to again find his course of response falling upon ears purposefully deaf to his claims. “I asked a question that I expect an answer to. I don’t want an answer to a question that I did not ask, so answer the one that I did...” Gamble interjects, slowly turning his head to the left like a reptile before his eyes fall upon the subject of his interest , “...what does the public think?”

Pressing his lips into a frown, the young man tasked with disclosing the nation’s status to the man who needs it the most allows his eyes to turn toward Bristol, who stands in the opposite corner of the room, only for the snapping fingers of the sovereign to bring his sights right back. “They’re not overly fond of the idea that they’ll be cut off from their power supply” the young man explains, attempting to continue speaking before falling silent at the presentation of Gamble’s hand.

“What is your name?” the sovereign queries, letting the palm of his paw fall back toward the coupled hands upon his desk whilst maintaining eye contact so sincere and unwavering that it presents itself entirely off-putting. “It’s Will, sir” the informant replies, watching Prince Edward’s leader turn the back of his hand toward the table and pull the top halves of his fingers toward his own direction, allowing the subordinate a green light to continue.

“We have people that need electricity to survive, and they’re among the most vocal of those who are troubled” Will explains, finding enough encouragement in the wealth of information he has to present to the leader to gradually ease into the conversation with more confidence in his speech. “There’s an incredibly large community that also has genuine fear that what Emilio Vasquez said about you was true” the young man carries on, “they don’t necessarily like her much, but virtually no one thinks well of Mrs. Walters’ assassination.”

“Neither does anyone here. She was an incredibly stubborn woman, and that was irritating to the tenth degree at times. But it’s what made her strong” Gamble responds with the same composure he’d carried through the conversation’s duration, “it’s what made her a valued adversary and her presence will be missed.”

“If I may speak out of my role for a moment, sir. It might be best if you let the public know that instead of just me” Will responds, watching the sovereign go quiet for a moment at this line of speech whilst it continues, “because a good number of people in our borders do think that you had something to do with it.”

“What else does the public think, Will?” Gamble proceeds to wonder aloud, obviously uninterested in continuing to entertain the specific concern any further than he already has. “For a start, many of them are scared of you and aren’t convinced by the declaration your office made just before or just after Mrs. Walters’ assassination” Will answers truthfully, hands continuing to stand stiffly at either side, “they like what you propose legislatively, but they are mostly unfavourable to you.”

“Are you unfavourable to me, Will?” the national sovereign proceeds to ask, keeping his stare held forward with the same lack of intensity but surplus of exuding conviction as the line of speech carries forward. “I don’t know what I think of you other than the fact that my responsibility is to carry out your commands and that is what I will do, sir” Will answers with a surprisingly equal amount of confidence, earning the slight squint of the leadership’s eyes with his remark.

“In that case, I’d like for you to tell me how you would weather this storm throughout our growing pains, Will” Gamble responds, standing out from his seat as both hands free themselves from their coupling, allowing the sovereign to round the table and approach the younger subordinate gradually.

“Amongst making good on your promises and ensuring the public that you had nothing to do with Mrs. Walters’ killing, I would make sure the lights don’t go out” Will replies as the leader continues to round the workspace. “The lights will go out, but they will not stay out” Gamble corrects, seeing the dismissive shake of the informant’s head to the side.

“If the lights will go out, I would just advise you to survive however long it takes you to get them back on while the public is in the uproar that they will be in” Will replies, taking one step back to free the space ahead of himself for the sovereign to occupy as it seems like he intends to do. “Once you weather the storm, I’d just make sure you get the lights on as soon as possible” the informant concludes, “once the lights go off, any wrong move can make you the sacrificial lamb that the public offers up to get back in the good graces of Nova Scotia as a peaceful surrender.”

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As the hydraulics blow out compressed air, a bus comes to a halt at the very start of a long stretch of airport runway, Emilio stands by with sunglasses shielding his face from the sunlight of an early spring. Pulling apart at the behest of the driver’s hand pulling at a handle off to his side, the doors that separate the bus’ inhabitant from the crisp air of an unusually cold April morning grant the single soul that had travelled north upon it the chance to touch down upon Canadian soil once more.

“You and your friends just make an impact everywhere you go, don’t you?” Jade questions aloud with two lifted eyebrows and a half-grin, watching the acting chancellor’s face hang whilst Isaac stands by, looking around the area in search of any concerns. “We sure keep finding ways to acknowledge the irony of that, yes” Emilio confesses, watching the woman appreciatively pat another man on the shoulder as he takes her luggage into hands.

“Alright, let’s not waste any time then. Give me the rundown... what do I need to know?” Jade questions aloud, approaching the man and wrapping an arm around him for a hug as she cuts to the chase. “I’m the acting chancellor until you’ve gotten situated here well enough to take over... Hopefully that’s soon” Emilio responds, letting go of the embrace as he begins walking with his inevitable successor.

“We’ve publicly accused Gamble and his regime for the assassination and he’s neither approved or denied that claim yet. But he has tried to play hero and suggest negotiating to open a line of sea-based transportation between our two sides” the chancellor furthers, approaching an armoured vehicle with the woman at his side, “Prince Edward expected to lose electricity for two weeks after their reserves deplete and the hope is that we can overtake their Newfoundland-based oil refinery before they can become self-sufficient again.”

“So there’s now real interest in cooperating with them to co-exist on your part?” Jade proposes, pointing out the disingenuous discovery she comes to without receiving much of an answer aside from the click of the current chancellor’s tongue. “They’re the only side that has proposed a negotiation to get people back to their rightful homes. We have no reason to believe there’s any genuine interest in the people’s well-being” Emilio concludes to an audience already of that opinion.

“Of course they’re not, Emilio. They’re trying to play favour to the public” Jade responds, assuring him of the assumption that he’d taken, “with that said, it can be a huge advantage to us if we need it.” Squinting, Nova Scotia’s first true successor since its foundation looks toward the new arrival without uttering a word.

“Even though I don’t know everything about where the current state of our sides are, I’m sure that letting the public think we’re willing to be cooperative would work in our favour” the impending chancellor voluntarily explains, “we know what their critical points are, and they’re geographically not in a pleasant position being on that island. If we can open a line of transportation, it would allow us to make a move on one of the ships and collect some of that power back.”

“I’m sorry, you’d want to take over one of their passenger boats and risk looking like the bad guy that kept the people who didn’t get the chance to go back home from doing so?” Emilio queries, watching his successor pucker her lips and shake her head whilst looking into the distance, only to stare back at him before asking him the first question on her mind. “I don’t need to win elections here, do I?” Jade questions back before smiling, allowing the silence that she’s met with to answer her question.

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Hearing crickets through the night for the first time since the seasons began bringing about their warmer weather, a man with dirt covering his face and dry blood running down his nose crouches behind a concrete barrier separating himself from an open plot of asphalt others already sneak along. Parting his lips into the shape of a circle, the beaten man pulls in a few, short breaths whilst tightly wrapping his hands around the handle to a wrench, readying himself to leap out from cover and advance.

Keeping his footsteps as subdued as he can manage to make them, the filth-covered man storms beyond the waterfront platform and dashes toward the side of a ramp, whose narrow sides are covered by a simple, white railing. Getting himself into position, the man quietly rounds the edge of the bannister and begins strolling upward, joining those he embarks upon this adventure alongside in boarding the vessels they don’t appear to be called to board.

Immediately finding himself entering cramped confines, the dirty-faced soldier peers around corners and into rooms that have their cabin doors left wide open, allowing for circulation that otherwise would evade the cabins. Though most of the confines that he looks into appear unoccupied, the quarters of apparent staff that his mates come across with signs of life within them meet the same fate, witnessing a bludgeoning of men in uniform that fall victim to an attack whilst amidst their slumber.

Painting the interior of these vessels red with the blood of the enemy, the professionals continue to advance upon their cruisers with as much haste as they can muster amidst their stealthful journeys. Pulling his hand back at the sound of nearing shoes tapping along the ground, the filth-covered face of the wrench-wielding man sours as he throws his arms forward, lamping an unassuming ship worker in the back of the head with such force that brain matter begins dripping down the back of his skull.

Prepared to do the same with anyone he happens across, the desperate and beaten soldier finally makes it to the captain’s quarters and takes a peek inside, finding only a lone occupant at the controls with his head pressing against the back of his seat. Swiftfully and gingerly, the tortured intruder begins advancing upon his prey until the distant sound of a gunshot flutters through the night beyond the ship’s parameters.

Awoken by the sound of gunfire that he hadn’t been anticipating, the captain parts his eyelids and takes a second to pause, trying to remain quiet in an effort of deciphering whether or not what he’d heard had been the legitimate sounds of war. His silence instead affording him the chance to capture a sound he hadn’t been anticipating, the control-occupying sailor throws himself forward in his seat and glances back without enough time to react, the swinging wrench that collides with his face shattering bone and knocking him unconscious immediately.

Hurriedly darting back the way that he’d come, the tormented invader rushes to the watertight door and slams it shut, locking it into place before hurrying to the controls as a boat a few dozen metres ahead of him begins moving forward. Looking at the board of lights and the variety of different icons at his disposal, the soldier quietly runs through the memorised list of steps he’d taken down before taking a seat as he does as previously illustrated to him.

Propelling the ship forward, the captain begins sailing onward, taking the modest wheel into his control and setting the vessel out for sharper waters. As he passes by the cruiser that had occupied one space ahead of the ship that had beaten him to disembarking, the sailor watches one of his similarly-dressed soldiers round the corner on the ship’s exterior with a gun in hand, falling into the line of sight that an enemy takes advantage of, firing two rounds into the chest of the escaping captain’s fellow intruder before turning his attention to the cruiser that advances beyond.

Ducking as he keeps the modest vessel on course, the captain shields himself from the gunshots that begin to pelt the windows, driving through their tough, yet non-bulletproof surfaces and missing the dodging target. In all directions, gunshots begin to ring out at boats that are both parked and on their way beyond the steady seas they’d yet to traverse.

Whilst most find success, other infiltrators fall victim to the overwhelming numbers that the bloody-faced captain had managed to avoid, being shot dead or captured in the act of valiance whilst their contemporaries successfully outsmart the warring nation on behalf of their homeland. Beneath the cover of night, the post-apocalyptic war finds its first rebellion and covert-operation take place at the same time as war boats are snatched in the dead of spring and taken toward their original homes.

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“I’m assuming that we wouldn’t be able to land enough people on Newfoundland at once in order to properly outnumber the people that Gamble’s stationed up there?” Jade questions aloud, looking toward the man she will soon succeed as he presses his lips together and shakes his head in refusal. “We’d have to take them in small boats across the Gulf of St. Lawrence from northern Quebec” Emilio concludes, “the only alternative are helicopters, but we can’t afford to send those birds with how big the risk is that we don’t get them back.”

“And we don’t have ships anywhere?” Jade questions back once more, calmly placing the palms of both hands upon the conference table that she occupies. “Well we don’t have ships anywhere, but Prince Edward Island has some stationed in the old docks at Charlottetown” Courtney responds, occupying the direct opposite end of the table from her Cumberland acquaintance, “aside from that, the only ships we might be able to go and grab ourselves are rusting away in ports throughout the U.S.”

“If we’ve pretty much overtaken the American naval force down across Chesapeake Bay then we’d have to go further south or further out west” Jade responds, only to again find reluctance in the face of the woman across from her. “The problems with those is that we don’t control those territories” Courtney retorts, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders, “this place may have had a leg up on anywhere else when the world ended, but it’s been five years. There might be a colony out west we’d have to contend with in order to gather up those ships.”

“And it might not even be worth it after all this time” Isaac adds on, “we put a lot into maintaining our ships. We have no idea how badly the ones out west in San Francisco or somewhere out there will be with how long they’ve gone without service.”

“I thought you came from out west, Courtney? Wouldn’t you know whether or not there was a settlement down there?” Jade questions back, looking for insight that the paramotorist just can’t provide. “For a start, I was only ever out there for the first few months. I was heading into rural Canada- the prairie provinces- about halfway through that winter” the woman in question replies, “I knew some people that were down there for the first few weeks, but I’ve got no idea what it looked like after the first... I don’t know, maybe the first month?”

Frowning, Jade lets her head begin tilting to the side as the door behind her starts opening, drifting inward at the hand that quietly pushes upon it. “I think I have some news that you all would want to hear” Irene proclaims calmly, though the excitement within her tone is unmistakable. Catching the room by surprise, those who’d stationed themselves around the conference table look toward each other without saying a word, only moving when Emilio becomes the first to climb out from his chair.

Whilst the sun begins rising over Nova Scotia, an armoured vehicle rips up the road that mostly lays empty and untravelled, carrying its inhabitants toward the section that becomes far more populated in comparison. Only climbing down from their vehicle once its wheels skid to a halt on a mixture of sand and grass, the four strategists hurry to the coastline that a fleet of armoured-dressed and rifle-wielding soldiers surround with weapons drawn, watching many of their contemporaries take risks that float out at sea.

“How many did you say there are? I don’t think I can count them properly at this angle” Jade questions back, looking toward the woman who’d informed her of this change in circumstance to begin the trip in the first place. “The reports I got mostly said fourteen” Irene answers, standing at the back of the group as they come to a safe distance, only for the acting chancellor to continue taking his chances.

Following the lead of her defiant predecessor-in-waiting, Jade squeezes between officers at Emilio’s behest as she draws closer to the Port Elgin waterfront, where a fleet of boats calmly bob upon the water with makeshift ramps holding them to solid ground. “No one knows who set this in motion, but a few of the Prince Edward Island crew have been taken into custody” Irene proclaims as she follows Courtney and Isaac forward, “the hostages that Gamble took... the ones that Charlotte sent after him before he blew up the bridge... led a siege on the Charlottetown port last night.”

Impressed and beyond the ability to speak, Emilio stares in wonderment at the apparent success of the undeclared mission that their hometown heroes had chosen to carry out. “Well, Jade... It looks like you’ve got fourteen more boats to work with” the acting chancellor remarks, looking to his side as the woman continues staring out. “This sure as hell changes a lot of things. We’ve got leverage now for one...” Jade assures, nodding as she takes the shifting circumstance to heart, “...let’s hope this change in the tides keeps itself going.”

== Rise ==