"Yes, what is it?" Lisa Neville frowned at Clint.

"Um...can we go downstairs maybe?" Clint said, catching a glimpse of Cathy who was sleeping soundly.

Lisa nodded. As they came to the living room, Clint said, "I-I'm the one who shot your husband."

Lisa froze. Clint kept talking.

"And no, I didn't do it out of mercy because he had the virus," he said. "It was a cold blooded murder." He stared down at his hands grimly. "I was only thinking of myself. I didn't care about him or you and the child you are gonna give birth to. And the fact that he had the virus doesn't give me an excuse to get away with murder. My intentions were still selfish and what I did was a heartless thing." He turned to her regarding her with extreme honesty. "I know an apology will never be enough for the crime I committed. But I'm deeply sorry for what I've done. I wouldn't dare ask for forgiveness. But I want to let you know that I regret my actions. And I wasn't in the right mind when I did it. I'm really sorry."

Lisa stared at Clint for a long time before bowing her head and softly muttering something under her breath, as if chanting a prayer. When she finally looked up at him the first thing she said was, "Thank you, Mr. Harris."

Clint was flabbergasted. "W-What are you thanking me for?"

"For respecting me enough to tell me about it," Lisa said. "I don't think anyone else would've been as honest as you, had they done something like this. And thank you for letting Richard leave this world as a human being. The end he got was still better than becoming one of those monsters and much better than getting washed away in that rain."

Clint shook his head. "Mrs. Neville, are you sure you're seeing the whole picture here? I killed him without thinking of you or the fact that I was ready to rob you and your baby of a chance to escape, just so my family could get away before it rained. Are you really going to thank me for being heartless?"

"Mr. Harris, I understand completely what you mean. But I don't think of you as a bad man," she said. "Bad men don't apologize after doing bad things. Bad men don't have a conscience. For me the only bad guys here are the operatives that chased my husband, chased me and Cathy. They are the reason why any of this is all so bad." She clenched her fist. Before letting out a deep breath and looking at him. "Don't blame yourself, Mr. Harris. No matter how you look at it, for me, what you did will always be the thing that led my Richard out of his misery." She smiled wistfully. "Also, all that I've been through in the past two days and considering I still managed to find people like Gemma and Erik, really makes it all feel worth it. It's all well if it ends well, Mr. Harris."

Clint kept staring at her, not sure how to respond. This clearly wasn't how he'd imagined it going down. But to some degree, he found himself agreeing with her reasoning. Yet that didn't make him feel any less guilty. So in the end, he just thanked her for showing such understanding and left to go be with his own wife and son again.

On his way up, he thought of Richard Neville. He hoped the man's soul was at rest.

###

When Gemma walked into the big garage behind the manor, the first thing she noticed was the soot-stained chrome like truck. A metal beast ready to charge. And on the hood of the truck, sat Erik, smoking a cigarette.

Gemma felt a bit jealous of the freedom Erik's EpiFreeze gave him. She missed smoking out in the open air like she used to. She sighed under her gas mask and shook her head.

"Close the door." Erik hopped off the truck, landing on his good leg, nimble as a cat. She had told him to be careful with the wounded leg since the stitches could come off, yet there he was, jumping around like a monkey. She didn't bother to warn him again.

Gemma hit the button on the wall and the shutter of the garage came down. Erik hit another button on the back wall and a disinfectant spray filled the garage before the pungent chemical smell of it dissipated in the air. Gemma finally took off her mask. "Why did you call me here?" she said.

Erik looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean, why?" he said. "We bagged a special grade military vehicle. We have to plan our next step against the gov–"

"Erik," Gemma said in a tired voice, "I don't want to."

Erik frowned. "Why not? I thought you really wanted freedom from this virus and the war."

"I do but...not like this," she said.

"Then how?" He turned to her, giving her his full attention.

"We have lost enough lives already. I just...I just want to–"

"Give up and retreat?" Erik said, not without an edge of anger in his voice. "You really think starting to call this place 'Mathesdale' and making special supply runs for everyone in here is gonna change anything?"

Gemma glared at him. "Just because I don't want to charge head first against the government doesn't mean that you have to be a prick about it, brother."

"Open your eyes, Gemmie." Erik stepped towards her. "You really think your plan has changed anything? Will it change anything after this?" He scoffed. "You might manage to build a village out of this wasteland and people may not feel like murdering each other as soon as their pantries run empty. But how long will you make it last? What if this quaint little city you are building gets blown up? What if it gets rained down upon? What if the virus mutates and becomes stronger? Do you have any plans for that?"

Gemma was silent, she clenched her fist when she felt a shiver threatening to wrack her body. "You really think I'm just running away from things, don't you?" she said. "That all of this is just an excuse for my reluctance to revolt against the government, right?" She stared right into his eyes. "Then you are correct. I'm indeed running away. Because I still remember what happened during the riots. How many friends we lost. And all the people who got arrested. I don't want that again, Erik. I don't want to lead more innocent people to their doom." Tears welled up in her eyes.

Erik sighed. He walked up to her and offered his handkerchief. "I understand. It's daunting to remember all the people we lost. All the destruction we caused. All the hopes that shattered. Yet the odds are far from against us."

Gemma took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "How?" She sniffled.

"We have one of their precious weapons. We have Lisa Neville–the person who knows something that the government has been trying to brush under the rug for a while. And if the next step of our plan goes right, we'll have a chance to expose the government's true face to the public."

Gemma wiped her eyes. "And what's that next step?"

"You remember where the rest of our friends from the Last Hand are?" Erik asked.

Gemma nodded. "In the high security prison in Sector 25."

Erik smirked. "I'm gonna break them all out of there."

###

The first thing that Agent Luce saw when he opened his eyes was a pale white ceiling. He stared blankly at it for a minute before his other senses started to engage. He heard the steady beeping of a monitor, felt the IV needles embedded in his skin, felt the nasal cannula pushed up in his nostrils. Although he didn't feel much pain anymore, he did feel a heavy layer of exhaustion bearing down on him like a blanket.

A silhouette dressed in all white appeared over his bed. A nurse. "Can you hear me, Agent Luce?"

Luce gave her a thumbs up.

"Can you give me a verbal response?"

Luce felt like rolling his eyes, but even that felt like too much effort right now. "I want to talk to Command right now," he said in a hoarse voice.

The nurse just nodded and left. In the next five minutes, they'd elevated his bed to a sitting position and pulled up a landline that was only available in his room. She connected him to Command right away and left the room before his call began.

"Good to know you are conscious again, Luce," Command's voice spoke from the other end.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Luce said. "You all are firing me from the Vigilant Squad, aren't you?"

"Why do you think so?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Command. The government lost that truck on my watch. The information about the Silver Lining is out there. About a dozen other operatives died. I won't be surprised if I found out that you were all coming after my ass. In fact, I'm surprised that you decided to fix me up and pay for the hospital bills."

"You really take me for a heartless bitch, don't you, Luce?" Command said. "You expected us to just leave you to die?"

Luce scoffed and winced when his ribs hurt from the action. "Not in the current predicament. If I die then the Vigilant Squad won't have anyone to blame for all that happened in Sector 22."

"Your ability to be a smart ass even after losing everything is commendable," Command said. "I can't tell you exactly why we saved you just yet. I have to attend a hearing with the Council of Firsts regarding the various failures we had in Sector 22. But I'll say one thing, you may not be in as bad of a situation as you believe. I'll let you know how the hearing goes."

Luce frowned and was tempted to ask how exactly he wasn't in such a bad situation. But he knew he wasn't going to get any answers from Command unless Command wanted to give any answers at will. "Fine. But there's something you need to know," he said, "the Last Hand is still functioning."

There was a pause on the other end. "Functioning from where?" Command asked.

"No idea but it was the Last Hand that stole the truck and helped Lisa Neville escape," Luce said.

"I thought most of them were arrested after the riots of Sector 21."

"Yeah well, one of them wasn't, apparently," Luce said. "And he happened to be the most dangerous one among them all."

Another fragment of silence. "You think this might be him?" Command said.

"I don't want to but he was the only one crazy enough to pull off what went down in Sectors 21 and 22."

"I thought he was dead."

"Are you really surprised, Command?" Luce scoffed. "He's come back from the dead twice already."

Command didn't say anything.

Luce pursed his lips. "What worries me more is that...he seemed a lot more reckless this time. And it seems like he is up to something big."

"This is gonna be a pain, isn't it?"

"It is." Luce nodded. "And whatever the Last Hand is planning this time–it seems way bigger than the riots."