Dead Awakened/Episode 6 (old)

This is a Preview of Episode 6, set to be released indefinitely.

Bellforde, City of Opportunity (Preview)
Place: 0199 Lesper Street Time: 6:35 AM

It is much too early of a morning for Junior to be awake, but a today calls for it. He would never wake up alongside his kids, who were getting ready to go to school during this hour. He was more of a 7-o-clock type of man.

“If ya stop fidgetin’ Marl—we’ll get this done sooner—” Currently, Junior is trying to help his son Marlin put on his overalls, but his bothersome sister Mina is trying to distract him by running around with his socks. Marlin is having none of it, preventing Junior from even slipping the thing on. “Marl—Marl!” He’s already fed and bathed this boy, and finishing this task will finally fulfill Junior’s goal of helping his wife this morning. He has no idea how she has to put up with this almost every day.

The doorbell rings, and it kicks Mina into overdrive, giggling loudly across the hall outside of Marlin’s room. Marlin finally stops, pausing at the sound. So did Junior.

Enza appears from the door, carrying Mina with her. Explains the fading silence. “He’s here, Carlyle.” She walks over to her two boys and sets Mina down, preparing to finish Junior’s job. “You sure you got it covered?” he asks, and Enza nods reassuringly. “What about Georgia?”

“She’s a big girl, Junior—she’s already waiting in the living room.” Enza slips Marlin’s overalls with no problem, moving on with the socks next. “What about Min…” Mina returns to her cereal-fueled sprints, too fast for Junior to even catch her. “She’s probably gonna throw her breakfast up pretty soon—”

Enza finishes Junior’s job and prepares to go get her. “You should really get the door—get to that meeting—” Enza passes by Junior with a smirk, effectively removing her morning grogginess in his eyes.

The capo, Figarro, has arranged for a quick meeting today, in light of the recent acts of Carlos. He figured that, the sooner they get this done, the better—and they were on the other guy’s time, not their’s. Junior heads for the front door, but before opening it, he notices his eldest daughter sitting on the couch; since when has she grown this much? Georgia was already thirteen and it all passed by his head. She was reading her textbook, wearing the glasses she had been prescribed not too long ago.

“When’d you get so old, Gia?” he asks. Georgia looks up, brows raised. “I just had my birthday, dad,” she replies nonchalantly. Junior chuckles lightly, smiles. Even her voice was different now. "Mom just has to get Mina ready, and you guys’ll be ready to go. See ya later, kiddo.”

He opens the door and sees a short, stout old man, what’s left of his graying hair combed neatly, hands in his pockets. He was curiously looking near Junior’s driveway. “You, uh, know where Gerry is?”

Junior closes the door behind him and steps out alongside Figarro. “I think I have an idea...” The two go over Junior’s car and prepare to leave, with Junior at the wheel and Figarro on the passenger side. Much like him, Gerry never goes to work this early. “Must be at the pool again—we’ll go get ‘er.” Figarro nods, and without further words, Junior pulls out of the driveway.

“I’ve a feelin’ they’re gonna be none too happy with Carlos… did ya manage to get a hold of him?” Junior spent all day yesterday relaying the message to their associates about how they had no part in Carlos’s actions. This meeting is to clear things up with superiors even higher than Figarro here.

“Nah,” Figarro replies. “Ain’t even in his apartment. Had my guys check, found nothin’. Hopin’ he wouldn’t stand us up today.”

Carlos? Junior doubts it. “Man’s burned his bridge yesterday. He ain’t got a reason to be comin’ back to us…” Place: 24-Hour-Tones Gym, Indoor Pools area Time: 6:43 AM

Only a 30-minute wait, and she was authorized to use it. A single pool all to herself.

Gerry didn't want to miss this day. The day the Pentavinos’ life support is getting cut off. At least, as a prediction.

It is an uncommon sight for Gerry to be sporting swimming gear; those who know her have never seen her swim laps in the pool, almost reminiscent to an athlete. She always chooses the best, least expected hours. And damn does she feel alive in the water.

She vigorously strokes from one end of the pool to the other, the thought of today’s meeting pushing her reserve. The time for the Pentavinos has come, and without the Vincettis’ support, they're as good as dead. This most likely means a time reduction will apply to her invisible contract. Afterwards, she has to wait it out, fend off the attention, reject any other job “offerings.” Let her connections decay. Vanish from the record.

Gerry finally stops at a corner of the pool. She slips out, sits on the edge, takes off her goggles and swim cap. She looks at the device strapped to her index finger. 1.7 miles, it read. A new record.

Time: 7:02 AM

She didn’t have time to prepare a decent attire; Gerry exits the gym with her typical workout clothes on. The grey jacket from yesterday, athletic top, pants, tennis shoes. Harder for the others to take her seriously, but since when has she followed their dress code?

Gerry, tending to her damp, jet-black hair in the cold morning wind, scans the parking lot in one sweep and sees a familiar face. Junior is leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, an amused smirk in his look. “Gerry likes to swim,” he says out loud. “Been six years since we employed you and I feel like I’m just gettin’ to know ya.” A held-back irritation enters Gerry’s face. She spits to the side and pulls up the hood of her jacket, the feeling against her hair unpleasant. She approaches Junior, stops, continues her expression through a glare.

Junior glances at the front seat briefly, and says, “You can just follow us. Goin’ to that coffee place, uptown.” He circles his car without further words, expecting Gerry to do the same.