JAY'S POV:
My first instinct is to go to headquarters. That's where my dad is and where the muscles to locate Peter are. I know my dad has men out and I hope he has new information for me.
I enter the situation room and see my dad frantically looking over the papers and that Pokémon card Samir gave us. He looks confused. That's not like him.
"Dad?" I ask, running because this behavior worries me.
Then I see something I don't expect; someone is pointing a gun at my dad's back. And I've walked right into the situation. The gunman clearly has not expected me to arrive and the weapon is held in trembling hands.
"Peter?" I ask, holding my hands up, trying to keep everybody calm. I'm pretty sure it's the same gun he took from his cousin, Michael who's now doing well and settled into camp life.
Peter points the gun in my direction. "I'm sorry, Jay," he says, and I can see how the sweat is pebbling on his forehead.
"Put the gun down, Peter," I ask and inch closer to my dad who's gripping the edge of the table next to him, holding on for dear life.
"I-I can't," Peter insists, but lets me go to my dad, who looks like he can't breathe, clutching his chest.
"Peter," I say, more insistently this time, knowing that something is seriously wrong with my dad. He hasn't spoken a single word yet and leans heavily on me when I reach him.
Peter's hand starts shaking to the point where he has to use the other to stabilize the aim of his gun. "I have to do this for her!" he yells. "I promised her!"
The anger prickles under my skin. "What are you talking about?" I demand and then it hits me that it is his girlfriend he's talking about. It takes me about a second to put the rest of the pieces together; she's one of the returned. She's part of the rebellion. And so is Peter, because of her.
I take a deep breath and am about to say something else when my dad becomes heavy in my arms, losing consciousness. That takes all of my attention and I get him on the floor and start performing CPR on him without another thought of Peter also being in the room.
I work on my dad, cursing under my breath, telling myself it's going to work. It has to.
"You might as well stop. You'll have to join him soon," Peter tells me. "Him and Cory."
The mention of that name makes me look up.
"If you touch a hair on his head, I swear I'll kill you," I growl.
Peter is still trembling, but he lowers his gun. "It doesn't matter now. It's too late. They've all been freed. It's the new world. It's starting now," he says. "We all have to make our sacrifices."
The hairs rise on my arms. "What do you mean 'they've been freed'?'"
"I mean the returned," Peter answers. "All of them. So they can exert their justice."
I momentarily stop the CPR, just staring at Peter in shock.
"Oh god," I whisper.
This means that many innocent lives will be in danger. Everybody in camp is in danger.
I scream in frustration and continue trying to get my dad to respond, but it isn't working. I soon learn that Peter lowered his gun because someone told him to; I find out we've been joined by Marc and another group of returned, carrying guns that used to belong to our people. The thought of how many people they hurt to get here is atrocious.
Marc, who has been watching me work on saving my dad's life, considers me with a cold expression. The one I always knew was there beneath the surface. He's not going to let us go, so I can get my dad the help he needs. He going to wait until my dad has no more time left. And then I'm pretty sure it's going to be my turn.
"Looks like you've got a lot on your hands," Marc says and there something weird about the look in his eyes. It reminds me of how it felt to be dead. It's the same indifference.
"So it hasn't occurred to you that your dad has been losing grip? You haven't noticed how he's been a little out of breath, a little prone to make rash decisions?"
Marc squats in front of me, probably knowing I'm not going to stop trying to save my dad just to punch him. Even if I really want to.
"But of course... you have been a little sided yourself as of late. You've spent a lot of time in that prison, crying about how hard your life is and how bad your nightmares can get. You've wasted your time, ignoring the signals."
In that moment, I make a decision. One, I know my dad will understand. He once told me to do everything necessary to save camp and the people in it.
I take the knife I've got hidden in my boot and jump Marc, holding the knife to his throat, forcing his friends to take a step back.
"Do it!" Marc yells. "Others will take my place."
Despite his words, I can tell his scared. And I'm running on adrenaline and pure anger. I've been outnumbered many times before but I still have the upper hand. They are the ones that have something to lose here.
"Then who will command your friends? You stroll around with the pretense of being some king, but you are no better than us, Marc. You won't achieve equality this way. It only leads to more chaos and more blood."
Marc tries to peel my hands off of him, but my grip is stronger than his is and I have a soldier's training. He does not.
In the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar face. It's Jason and a couple of other soldiers. Slowly, very slowly, they sneak up behind our attackers and, when they are close enough, they soundlessly pull out their stun guns and take the rebels down one at a time with skill and precision.
Marc yells out and starts struggling against him. I let him watch as his friends get dragged away, unconscious and disarmed, while he can do nothing but stand there. I let go of him but only for long enough to punch him square in the face, knocking him out cold before I personally drag him to the prison cells where he can sit with the rest of his friends.
Jason checks my dad's vitals, and waves a few people over, to help him lift my dad up and rush him to the hospital. Maybe there's still something they can do for him. I watch them run with my dad looking like nothing but a rag doll despite all the power he held until the moment he fell.
I take my walkie and make sure all focus is on stopping the chaos at the rehabilitation center. Marc and his friends may be out, but the threat is not over. The dead can still destroy camp if we don't stop them as quickly as possible.
CORY'S POV:
During the chaos, my jailers begin to panic. They are so far into their treatment now that those who are still considered dead won't differentiate between them and me – which means the three hyenas are as much at risk of being eaten as I am. Maybe they didn't prepare enough for this part of their rebellious plan. They look really scared when faced with the dead and their insatiable hunger.
"Release me!" I yell at them, and all they do is stare at me, wide-eyed.
"I can protect us if you just let me go!" I yell, a little more desperate this time. I don't want to die in here with these freaking idiots. No way in hell.
"COME ON!" I scream when the dead begin to close in on us.
One of the hyenas finally listens, and takes off my handcuffs, so I can get the gun from the nearest officer killed by the rebels. It's only a stun gun but it's enough to take down the dead coming our way. I stun them, one by one, as quickly as I can, while my two companions scream. Two of them are clever enough to stay behind me but the third one, a guy who was so tough mere minutes ago, tries to run away. I try to get him to come back, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he becomes dead meat. Again.
The two people behind me scream when I my gun runs dry and we have to retreat. I scramble to find another gun and find one on another dead guard nearby, and narrowly miss some dead guy taking a bite out of my arm. I stun him so hard he collapses with a wobble. But there are still a handful of dead coming our way.
I curse under my breath when my screaming companions and I are pressed against the wall of the center building, about to be eaten. Luckily, I don't have to fear death for long; all the people in front of us get stunned one by one. I look up to see Isaac and a full squad of our guys who've all come to our rescue. They've come from the walkway around the cages in the center. It's high up and a good place to keep an eye on the entire facility.
I breathe a sigh of relief when they reach us, and Isaac asks me if I'm okay.
"We've almost got this contained," Isaac tells me. "But it's taken some time because those bastards just executed everyone inside headquarters. The general might die, too. We think he had a stroke."
My blood freezes over. "Oh my god, no," I say, too overwhelmed to really understand what that means. I'm not sure I can stomach more loss. I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that Sadie is gone because of these rebels. It seems they have achieved what they set out to; with so much loss, several important roles in camp will have to be recast.
"What about these two?" Isaac asks and gestures to the two shaking returned he and his men have now restrained. Look how the tables have turned.
I show Isaac the handcuffs still dangling from my left hand and explain the whole thing. He doesn't get mad at me for trusting Marc. He orders the two prisoners to be taken to the jail in headquarters.
"What about Jay?" I ask nervously.
Isaac puts a hand on my shoulder. "He's OK. he hasn't been hurt."
I breathe a sigh of relief as Isaac frees me from the handcuffs altogether.
"Come on," Isaac says. "You need to go to headquarters. I promised Jay I would get you there as soon as possible. They've captured Marc and a couple of his friends, too."
No more needs to be said. I'm already running.