The Sanctuary : Season Two Episode One – Fear and Compassion

[Black Death]

Well it Season Two ... we meet new characters , old friends , old threats and new horrors ... and whole lot in between ...this is how the world ends and this is how the place called the Sanctuary is built.   I will be back afterwards with my comments , but I hope you all enjoy this .     




Sanctuary Results â€" Season 2 â€" Without A Bang

Episode One â€" Fear and Compassion

I.

Mani looked across the boat to Kim.  She looked like he felt, and a part of him wanted to just go over to her… wrap an arm around her and tell her it would be okay.  But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.  They had spent the night on the boat, listening to the soft swish swash of the waves on the boat.  Mani hadn’t been much for this sort of thing.

Kim broke his thought process.

KIM: “Where are we going?”

MANI: “California.  I don’t know why.  Maybe we can meet up with the guys.”

KIM: “How are we going to get to California?  On this boat?”

MANI: “Yeah, Kim…”

Mani emptied out their backpacks on the deck of the boat to examine what they brought.

MANI: “We have enough water for four days, I think.  Enough food for two days.  We’re going to need to stop somewhere to stock up though.  I don’t like having to leave the boat and all our supplies, but we’ll have to stop in Oregon probably.”

KIM: “Mani…”

Mani looked up to catch her gaze.  Up ahead was an amazing sight.  Nearly a hundred boats converged in a single spot, most of them tied together.

MANI: “What the hell?”


II.

Jacob loaded as much supplies as he could into the back of one of the ambulances.  He didn’t want to leave the few remaining survivors staying at the hospital with nothing, but his priority had to be on himself and his friends.  In all, he brought enough medical supplies to do whatever they needed as well as enough hospital food for a week.  Water was a problem, though.  What came out of the faucet was brown and the hospital had exhausted most of their bottled water already.  He finished putting the last box of Jello in the back of the ambulance just as Nina approached.

NINA: “I hate to leave the place like this…”

JACOB: “It’s over.  Look at it… only four people left in there, and they’re pretty much just hiding out for as long as they can.  This isn’t a hospital anymore.”

NINA: “How could it have gotten this bad?”

JACOB: “How’s your arm?”

NINA: “It’s fine.”

JACOB: “Let me look.”

NINA: “You’ll just peek down my shirt.  It’s fine.”

Clarence approached next, carrying a rifle over his shoulder and looking like something out of a Rambo movie.

CLARENCE: “We’re going to have to head south to Highway 12, first.  Then take that to 80.  Listen, thanks guys.”

NINA: “Don’t mention it.”


III.

Richard York just stared. Seconds before he’d just tried to come to terms with killing a man in a traffic collision on his way into the city of Stockton. Now he was looking that man in the face. Except it hasn’t been a man for a while.

RICHIE: “What the fuck?”

His brother Eddie also stared and pointed from a few meters away next to their car.

EDDIE: “What’s wrong with him? What the hell is wrong with his eyes?”

RICHIE: “I… I dunno…”

Suddenly the infected lunges aggressively at Richie, but its leg has been injured by the car and it falls, mere inches in front of him.

RICHIE: “JESUS CHRIST!”

Richie leaps into action, sprinting back to the car and gesturing to his brother to do the same. The infected picks itself up and starts to crawl towards them at speed, emitting a horrific groaning as it does so. The York brothers hop into the car and slam the doors shut behind them. Richie turns the key in the ignition. Nothing.

EDDIE: “Start the car! Start the car!”

RICHIE: “I’m trying! I’m trying”

The infected slams into the back of the car and begins pulling itself along the side towards the driver’s door. Richie turns the ignition again. Nothing.

RICHIE: Fuck!

EDDIE: “There’s a knack to it! You have to jimmy it a little!”

The infected reaches the driver’s door and Richard just stares at it, paralyzed with fear. It screams and slams its head against the window, causing it to crack.

RICHIE: SHIT!

It pulls its head back and slams it off the window again as Eddie desperately reaches for the ignition. The window is starting to give.

EDDIE: C’mon… C’MON!

RICHIE: Eddie! Hurry up!

The infected pulls its head back for one last go at the weakened window. Eddie turns the ignition… Nothing…

EDDIE: “No! Shit!”

BLAM!

Suddenly a shot rings out and the infected’s remaining brains are splattered over the window. It slides lifelessly to the ground as the York brother’s stare in shock. There is a tap and the gore-splattered window and, almost instinctively, Richie rolls the window down. He is greeted by a gruff old holding a hunting rifle, levelled right at his face.

MAN: “Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my city?”


IV.

Gordon Fisher looked into the backseat.  The boy was awake, sitting up and staring straight ahead.

GORDON: “Hello, I’m Gordon.  What’s your name?”

The boy did not respond.

GORDON: “Are you hungry?”

He grabbed a cold poptart from the box on the passenger seat and held it out to him.  The boy hesitated a moment, then quickly took it.  He ate ravenously, barely chewing.

GORDON: “I’m going to keep you safe.  I’ll take care of you.”

For the first time since the horror at the gas station, the boy began to cry silent tears.  Gordon looked for some tissue while he drove, but found none.  Then, a thought occurred to him.  He opened the glove box and took out an action figure that belonged to one of his grandkids.  The thing had 4 arms and was pretty ugly looking, but the boy’s eyes lit up when he saw it.  He reached behind him and handed it to the boy.

BOY: “Thankyou.”

GORDON: “You’re welcome.”


V.

Dave peered through his binoculars.

DAVE: “We got another boat coming.”

Mandy, his best friend’s wife, sat with her legs hanging over the edge of the boat.  Her wife, Rick… had turned a week ago.  Tried to kill her when she came home from work.  She barely got out of the house alive, just as Dave had pulled up to check on his friend.  Ever since then, Dave had taken care of her as best as he could, considering that she was an annoying bitch.

At this moment, she simply ignored him.  Dave looked out at the boat, seeing a man and a woman making their way towards the conglomeration of boats and ships.  Dave picked up the orange flag from the deck and began waving it in the air for the other boat to see.

On the other boat, Mani and Kim were discussing what they should do.

MANI: “I don’t like it, Kim…”

KIM: “If they have food and water that they could spare, maybe we won’t have to stop off in Oregon.”

MANI: “If you had food and water to spare, would you give it to them?”

She didn’t have an answer for this.  Eventually, they decided they would at least investigate.  Mani pulled the boat up close to the man waving the orange flag.  The man didn’t smile, which Mani figured was a good sign.  If he was planning on robbing them blind, he would pretend to be helpful.  His indifference made him look more human.

MANI: “What are you all doing here?”

Mani could see at least three dozen people on the other boats, many of them just sitting there getting a sunburn.

DAVE: “Same as you.  Figured these things can’t swim, so went out to sea to wait until help arrived.”

MANI: “Help?”

DAVE: “Yeah… the government.  They’re not going to just sit around while all this is happening.  They’ll save us.”

To Mani, it sounded like something you might have heard centuries ago when famine would destroy villages.  The pious villagers would say, ‘God will come.  He will save us’ until they all perished.  Same story, different god.  Now, the government was the mythical savior.

MANI: “You can’t wait for the government to come save you, you have to fight and scratch for anything you can.”

Dave shrugged.

DAVE: “Have you heard anything from inland?  What’s the latest news?”

MANI: “There is none.  The power went out and before that, most of the news agencies had stopped broadcasting anyway.  Listen, we’re a little short on supplies… do you have anything you could spare?”

Dave frowned.

DAVE: “Most of us have been out here on the water for close to a week.  Myself, I only brought enough for me and Mandy for about that long.  We tried distilling water, but it’s too damn slow.  To tell you the truth… most of us are getting tired of waiting, and we’re probably going to head back into Seattle ourselves.”

MANI: “Good luck, if you do.  The place has gone to hell.”

You could paint a portrait of the disappointment in Dave’s face.  Not having anything else left to say, Mani and Kim pulled away from the boat.  Disappointment had a way of being contagious.


VI.

Tommy Wilson drove the oversized vehicle while Mark Matzko slept in the back somewhere.  He hadn’t picked up a radio station in eight hours, but kept the radio on constant scan, hoping they’d pick up something in the distance.

The plan was, if they found a radio signal, that would imply an area less affected by the disaster.  It hadn’t paid off yet.

Up ahead, there was a road block.  Long since abandoned, but it made the road completely impassable.  Tommy pulled the vehicle over and shut off the ignition.  Being careful, he stepped over piles of weapons to let Mark know they would have to turn around.

TOMMY: “Mark, hey Mark… it’s your turn to drive, man.”

MARK: “Ughh… I feel like shit.”

TOMMY: “Don’t do this to me, man.  I’ve been driving for the last 11 hours.  There’s a roadblock up ahead and we gotta turn around.  You know I can’t handle this thing well enough to manage it driving in reverse.”

MARK: “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Mark pulled himself up, running a hand through his sweaty hair.  He went to the driver’s seat, and surveyed the area.

MARK: “Where are we?”

TOMMY: “Nebraska, I think…”

MARK: “You think?”

TOMMY: “I saw signs for Nebraska a couple hundred ago, but it was dark.  It looks flat?”

MARK: “Yeah, it’s flat.  Alright, hand me the aspirin.  My head is killing me.”

Tommy reached into the glove box and tossed it over.  Mark popped off the lid and swallowed half a dozen of them.

TOMMY: “You gonna be alright?”

MARK: “Yeah, man.”

TOMMY: “I’m gonna get some sleep.  Wake me up if you get a radio station.”


VII.

Michael McCabe sat on the couch of his room, swirling a glass of wine.  In front of him, Erin Reed… tied up and gagged, sat on the opposite couch.  A glass of wine sat in front of her as well, but being tied up and gagged… she couldn’t drink.

MCCABE: “In this world, 99% of everything has a price.  Weapons, land, women… but there are certain things that simply cannot be bought.  For example, yourself.  You’re a different breed.  Most women, you show them a stack of money or some diamonds or expensive cars… and they’ll do anything you want.  There are others, such as yourself… that cannot be bought with money.  They can only be bought with power.  They can only be bought by force and with fear.”

Reed stared daggers at him.  But McCabe went on.

MCCABE: “There’s a basic fundamental principle of man that you must understand if you’re going to succeed in life.  The only thing that creates loyalty is fear.  If they fear me, they will worship me.  And the only way to make them fear me was to show them how scary I can be.”

He got up and began pacing through the room.

MCCABE: “Would it dishearten you to know that your fellow soldiers murdered their own commanding officers for the chance to join me?”

Reed looked unconvinced.

MCCABE: “Fine, don’t believe me.  But getting the army to fear me would be a task larger than I was capable of.  Instead, I made the individual fear me.  I put fear into each soldier, one heart at a time.  They see themselves surrounded, with the undead only a chain link fence away from ripping them apart.  They stand there and they begin to think about their families, about their own selfish desire to live.  On paper, they have no problem dying for their country.  But you put a gun to a man’s head…”

McCabe took out his magnum and placed it on Reed’s temple.

MCCABE: “You put a gun to their head and you tell them to either kill or be killed, to abandon all the false messages of patriotism and duty… you turn them into an animal crawling on its belly just to lick the shit off my boots and what you’ve done is bought their loyalty with fear.  They murdered their brethren to save themselves.  And that’s something that will never go away.  What they did take away is their ticket home, their chance for a normal life.  Because after doing what they’ve done, there is no going back.  Every single one of them came to the realization that the old world is dead and gone, vanished without a bang.  And what’s left of it are those with the ability to create fear and everyone else.”

McCabe grabbed Reed by the arm and pulled her down to the floor, setting her on her knees.  He yanked the gag out of Reed’s mouth, pried her lips open then placed the gun barrel in it.  He cocked the heavy magnum, put his finger on the trigger.

MCCABE: “You come into a man’s house, to kill me.  That tells me that you have something to learn in the way of fear.  I will have your loyalty, Miss Reed.  You will lick the shit off my boots by the time I’m through with you.  Or I could pull this trigger now, make this entire speech for nothing.  I could end your miserable little life right now and use your corpse to feed my army.”

He stared at her a moment.  Sweat shown on her face despite the cool air.  But she did not tremble.  Her eyes continued to stare directly into his.  He took the gun out of her mouth, removed the clip.  He took out one bullet and loaded it into the chamber, before yelling into the hallway.

MCCABE: “Santos, bring him in.”

Santos came in, dragging in a bandaged and conscious Tim Miltraz.  Tim looked around, fear in his eyes.  He had been tied up and gagged.  Santos threw him to the floor, just as McCabe picked up Reed standing her up to her feet.  He came behind her, aiming the gun at Miltraz.  He lifted her hands and put her finger on the trigger, while still holding the gun tightly in his own.

MCCABE: “Pull the trigger, Reed.  End his life.”

Tim looked up at her, pleading with his eyes.  Reed cringed, feeling McCabe’s strong arm around her waist, pressing her body close to his own.  His right hand held the gun tightly.  Her finger touched the trigger.

REED: “I’m not going to kill him.”

MCCABE: “If you don’t kill him, I will.  Then I’ll kill you, slowly.  Now pull the fucking trigger.”

Reed didn’t say another word.  She clenched her jaw, breathing through short pained breaths.  He squeezed her body closer to his own.  His lips came close to her ear, whispering softly.

MCCABE: “Just pull the trigger.  End his life to save your own.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.  He repulsed her with everything inside her.  She closed her eyes, dropped her hand.  McCabe pointed the gun at her head.

MCCABE: “What a shame…”

He squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Reed’s eyes opened.  McCabe brushed his lips against her neck, whispering still.

MCCABE: “I removed the firing pin from that gun.  Your strength wins this time, but I will have you soon.  I will have you begging for this moment later.”

He tossed her back onto the couch, then glanced at Santos, who smiled.  Sometimes, he reminded Michael of Jorge, back when he first joined up with them.

MCCABE: “Put him back in the closet.  Then, come back and take Miss Reed away.  I’m bored of her.”


VIII.

Mark Matzko was nearly in tears from his headache.  He checked the clock, finding it just after eleven.  He turned around, seeing Tommy fast asleep on one of the cots.  Mark pulled to a stop, looking around.  It was completely dark, though up ahead he saw a banner hung on a building.

“Safety Inside â€" The Colony Will Protect You”

Mark smirked at the thought.  Yeah, sure you will.

He picked up a shotgun and made sure it was loaded.  He shut off the engine, and reclined the seat.  He laid the shotgun on his lap and drifted away to sleep.



IX.

Yuma Yakazawa cared about only one thing, protecting her child.  She ignored her own well being, trying to fight the urge to vomit and taking an uncounted number of aspirin to try and fight off the headaches.  She left her home in Napa, putting her newborn baby in the carrier on her back.  She had no car, her husband had not returned from work three days ago.  She wanted to believe that he was fine, wanted to believe that she would meet him in Fairfield and find him in some hospital.

She had moved beyond the stage of crying, and into the level of denial.  She had walked 8 miles before collapsing onto the ground, completely out of energy.  She would lie there, a crying baby on her back for two hours… before rising again.

ELIMINATED â€" Yuma Yakazawa â€" Infected

Later, Jacob, Nina and Clarence were on the road.  Getting through Napa to Highway 12 was a hassle, to say the least.  For being a small town, there had been quite a number of wrecks along the way where they had to pull up onto the sidewalk to get around.  There weren’t many infected around, but the infected were the only life they saw.

Still, they were sporadic.  They would see a few here or there, but Clarence would simply speed up and let the ambulance outrun them.  They reached Highway 12 and began their trek east towards I-80.  After about two miles, they found themselves in a canyon.

JACOB: “This is spooky.”

It was still morning and the sun hadn’t yet filled the canyon, with the ridges on each side blocking out the light.  Clarence seemed to tense up at the wheel, his knuckles turning white from gripping it too hard.

Suddenly, Clarence slammed on the brakes.  Nina and Jacob, startled, looked out the front windshield.  An infected woman was directly in front of the car, getting closer as the ambulance’s brakes squeeled.

JACOB: “What are you doing!?  JUST GO!”

But then he saw it.  The woman had an infant carrier on her back, a baby still in it.  How Clarence saw this from such a distance was a shock to the both of them.  At one time, her name was Yuma Yakazawa.  But now, she was one of the nameless horde.  They came to a jerky stop, about six feet from the woman.  Yuma then leaped up onto the hood of the ambulance, sliding back down again.  She scratched and clawed at the ambulance, seeming to try and scratch the metal and glass open.

JACOB: “It’s not human, Clarence.  We need to just go.”

Nina was looking around them, making sure they weren’t about to be surrounded.

NINA: “I don’t like this guys, we’re not in a good position here.”

Clarence was staring straight ahead, at the woman, at the baby.

CLARENCE: “It’s not infected.”

JACOB: “What the hell are you talking about?  Look at her!”

CLARENCE: “Not her, the baby!”

Jacob looked, impossible to tell.  He could just barely make out the baby’s face, blood was streaked on it.  Being a paramedic, he’s seen a lot of horrific things in his life.  But fighting back the urge to look away was hard, even for him.

JACOB: “You don’t know that, Clarence.  Let’s just go.”

CLARENCE: “I can’t.”

Clarence opened the car door.

JACOB: “Clarence!  No!”

Yuma ran to him, arms outstretched and teeth bared.  Clarence, shoved her away with the rifle.  Nina was out of the car next, climbing through the back.

JACOB: “Nina!  Oh, fuck this.”

Jacob got out next from the passenger side.  The infected woman kept her focus on Clarence, but he continued to shove her away.

JACOB: “Just shoot her!”

CLARENCE: “No!”

NINA: “He’s right.  It’ll alert every one of those things that might be around here.  Plus, it might hit the baby.”

JACOB: “Jesus Christ!”

Jacob raised his gun to shoot, but at that moment the baby began to cry.  Jacob lowered the gun.  The woman lunged at Clarence again, and this time he turned his rifle towards her, jabbing the barrel of the gun into her mouth.  He tilted the gun upwards and fired, blowing the woman’s head off.

The baby’s crying erupted even louder.

JACOB: “You said don’t shoot!”

Clarence didn’t respond, but instead went to the baby carrier.  He lifted the blood stained blanket away from its face and studied the crying baby for a while.  After a moment, he unsnapped the carrier and reached in.

JACOB: “Don’t let him bite you.”

NINA: “He doesn’t have teeth, Jacob.”

Jacob watched, nerves completely shot as Clarence lifted the baby from the carrier.  The baby’s face was covered in scratches, presumably from the woman trying to reach behind her head to grab it.  There was dried blood on its face, scabs… but no other sign of infection.  Clarence, opened one of the baby’s eyes and shined a pocket flashlight into it.

CLARENCE: “His eyes are dilating.  If he’s infected, he’s not Level 3.  I think he’s alright.”

Jacob kneeled next to the baby, then ran his hands through his hair.  He looked up at Nina, who had tears flowing down her face.  They had saved this baby’s life.


X.

ROLAND: “Blood on the pavement.  What a lovely sight.”

Rebecca looked at the man escorting her through the streets.  She had been unnerved by the mask when they had first met.  But he was one of those that survived, and had shown that he knew how to fight for himself.  They accepted his company, too scared to do anything about it.  What was the man thinking?  Would he be trouble?  These are questions that safe people ask themselves.  These are the things people think of when they’re comfortable and have a chance to make decisions.  They’re the decisions of people that are in control.

ROLAND: “Hurry up, we’re going to miss the train.”

He tugged at the rope, nearly knocking her to the ground.  She jogged faster, out of breath, out of hope, barely clinging on to the thing that kept her going for so long… the will to live.

REBECCA: “I’m tired… please let me go.  You’ll get farther without me.”

ROLAND: “Not a chance.”

He tugged the rope again, and this time she did fall to her knees.  She skinned her forearms, catching herself with her bound hands.  He yanked the rope upwards and she got to a knee, took off running again.

Up ahead, the freight train was getting closer.  Only fifty feet away now, but it was already beginning to pass by.  Roland ran hard, jerking the rope sharply.  The cord dug into her wrists, drawing blood.  They reached the tracks.

ROLAND: “Jump on, on the count of three.”

REBECCA: “I can’t do this, please let me go.”

Roland shot her a dangerous glare that she wouldn’t have seen.  Just the dirty hockey mask.  He raised his machete, held it close to her cheek and spoke in grunts.

ROLAND: “ONE.  TWO.  THREE.”

They both lept.  Roland grabbed the railing, while Rebecca simply hung onto the lower edge of the freight car’s door.  Roland pulled himself up, stepping into the freight car.  He grabbed her hand, helped her up into the train car and then smacked her hard.  She fell over, nearly falling out of the train car.  But Roland jerked the rope again, keeping her inside.

ROLAND: “Next time, you do what I say… WHEN I say it.”

REBECCA: “Or what?  You’ll kill me?  The whole world is dying, eating each other up.  We should be helping each other, showing some compassion for people.  But you’re just a fucking psycho.  What chance of living do I really stand if I’m here with you?”

ROLAND: “The only way you will become separate from me is when I have no other use for you and you’re dead.  Perhaps the other way around, depending on my mood.”

Tears began to well up on her eyelids.  She sank to the floor of the train car, turning away from him.  She refused to let him see her torment.  Tried to come up with a plan of escape.


XI.

Tommy opened his eyes and stretched.  Sun was creeping in through one of the side windows that didn’t have the blinds pulled down.  Sitting up, he had a look around and checked the time.

9:00am?  Mark let me sleep an awful long time.

Tommy got up and strolled towards the front of the bus.  The driver’s seat was empty.

TOMMY: “Mark, where the hell did you go?”

The door was closed.  He opened the bus door and looked around.  Up ahead, he saw a bus driving through the streets.  The side bore the name ‘The Colony’.

Sighing, he turned around and stepped back into the bus.

“BRAGGHH!!!!”

Tommy’s eyes lit up.  He ducked just in time as Mark dove in.

TOMMY: “Mark!?”

Mark answered with more screaming and baring of teeth.  Mark kicked him in the nuts, but it didn’t affect him at all.  He rolled him off of him, climbing up to his feet quickly.  Mark dove again and now Tommy hit him with a missile dropkick.  Mark flew backwards, but got right back up again.  Tommy backed up, but then tripped over a pile of assault rifles, hitting his head on the edge of the cot, knocking himself out.

Mark charged in, about to get the meal he desired.

BLAM!

Mark fell to the floor.  A burly man with a shotgun stood behind him, smoke coming from the barrel.  Doug Willhelm climbed up the steps next.

DOUG: “You get him?”

The bodyguard cocked the gun again, loading another bullet.

BODYGUARD: “Yeah, he’s toast.”

DOUG: “Check the other guy, see if he’s alright.”

The bodyguard knelt over Tommy Wilson.

BODYGUARD: “His head is bleeding, but I think he’ll make it.  He’ll need some stitches but I’m no doctor.”

Doug checked his watch.

DOUG: “Alright, bring him to the bus.  We’ll make a quick stop back at The Colony before we head back out again.”


XII.

Santos knocked on Micheal McCabe’s door.  A voice came from within the room.

MCCABE: “Come in.”

Santos walked in, sat down tiredly on the couch across from him.

SANTOS: “We may have a situation…”

MCCABE: “Sounds exciting.  Explain.”

SANTOS: “There was a sniper up in a church tower twelve blocks from here when the Army arrived.  One of our guys saw glare from a scope and blew up the tower with an RPG.”

MCCABE: “If that were the end of it, you wouldn’t be telling me this.  So, what’s the problem?”

SANTOS: “Well, we just checked the church and couldn’t find his body.  There were plenty of bodies, but they were long dead.  The stairwell to the tower was collapsed, so whoever it was… he has to be injured pretty badly.  And we found this.”

Santos reached out and placed an object on the coffee table.  McCabe stared at it a moment, then picked it up.  It was a Special Forces keychain.  That alone wouldn’t have been enough to alarm McCabe, but when he flipped it over… the engraved name on the back was enough to make his eyes widen.

MCCABE: “Masters… you told me Masters was dead.”

SANTOS: “He is.  Saw the body myself, when you sent me there.  He killed himself long before I got there to do the job.  So, the question is… how the hell did this keychain get to that tower?  We being stalked by a ghost?”

McCabe’s jaw clenched.

MCCABE: “Funny you would say that… Sweep the area, if he’s injured he couldn’t have gone far.  Check anywhere that could have medical supplies and a view of the street.  Don’t make yourselves obvious.  But take twenty men with you.”

SANTOS: “Twenty?  Who are we after?”

MCCABE: “If we’re lucky… it’s just Masters’ ghost.  But I think it’s James Wallace.  And if he left this behind, he wants me to know he’s here.”

[Rob]

Yay Mani and Kim!

This was the best season of Sanctuary and was honestly gripping from start to end

[Adam Wrong]

This is where my character comes in and I loved it

[Dorling]

We need more of these BD!