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Table of Contents
Finnean Nilsen Projects 13
PILOT EPISODE 14
One 15
Two 17
Three 19
Four 21
Five 23
Six 24
Seven 25
Eight 27
Nine 29
Ten 31
Eleven 32
Twelve
34
Thirteen 35
Fourteen 37
Fifteen 38
Sixteen 40
Seventeen 42
Eighteen 44
Nineteen 46
Twenty 48
Twenty-One 50
Twenty-Two 52
Twenty-Three 53
Twenty-Four
55
Twenty-Five 57
Twenty-Six 60
Twenty-Seven 61
Twenty-Eight 63
Twenty-Nine 65
Thirty 66
Thirty-One 67
Thirty-Two 68
Thirty-Three 70
Thirty-Four 71
Thirty-Five 73
Thirty-Seven 82
Thirty-Eight 84
EPISODE 2: 86
OUT OF THE DARKNESS 86
One 87
Two 90
Three 92
Four 95
Five 97
Six 99
Seven 103
Eight 105
Nine 107
Ten 109
Eleven 111
Twelve 113
Thirteen 114
Fourteen 116
Fifteen 118
Sixteen 122
Seventeen 123
Eighteen 126
Nineteen 128
Twenty 130
Twenty-One 132
Twenty-Two 134
Twenty-Three 136
Twenty-Four 138
Twenty-Five 140
Twenty-Six 142
Twenty-Seven 144
Twenty-Eight 145
Twenty-Nine 147
Thirty 149
Thirty-One 150
Thirty-Two 151
Thirty-Three 153
Thirty-Four 155
Thirty-Five 156
EPISODE 3: 158
THE BURNING MAN 158
One 159
Two 160
Three 163
Four 166
Five 167
Six 169
Seven 171
Nine 174
Ten 176
Eleven 178
Twelve 181
Thirteen 183
Fourteen 185
Fifteen 187
Sixteen 189
Seventeen 191
Eighteen 193
Nineteen 195
Twenty 197
Twenty-One 200
Twenty-Two 202
Twenty-Three 204
Twenty-Four 205
Twenty-Five 207
Twenty-Six 209
Twenty-Seven 210
Twenty-Eight 211
Twenty-Nine 213
Thirty 215
Thirty-One 217
Thirty-Two 218
Thirty-Three 219
Thirty-Four 221
Thirty-Five 223
EPISODE 4: 226
THE CRIMSON RIVER 226
Before… 227
One 229
Two 230
Three 232
Four 233
Five 234
Six 235
Seven 236
Eight 238
Nine 240
Ten 242
Eleven 244
Twelve 246
Thirteen 248
Fourteen 250
Fifteen 252
Sxteen 253
Seventeen 254
Eighteen 256
Nineteen 258
Twenty 262
Twenty-One 266
Twenty-Two 267
Twenty-Three 268
Twenty-Four 270
Twenty-Five 272
Twenty-Six 274
Twenty-Seven 277
Twenty-Eight 279
Twenty-Nine 281
Thirty 282
Thirty-One 284
Thirty-Two 286
Thirty-Three 288
Thirty-Four 290
EPISODE 5: 292
WHISPERS IN THE DARK 292
One 293
Two 294
Three 296
Four 299
Five 301
Six 303
Seven 305
Eight 306
Nine 308
Ten 310
Eleven 312
Twelve 314
Thirteen 317
Fourteen 322
Fifteen 324
Sixteen 327
Seventeen 329
Eighteen 330
Nineteen 332
Twenty 334
Twenty-One 336
Twenty-Two 339
Twenty-Three 341
Twenty-Four 346
Twenty-Five 347
Twenty-Six 349
Twenty-Seven 351
Twenty-Eight 353
Twenty-Nine 355
EPISODE 6: 361
WITH A VENGEANCE 361
PART ONE 361
One 362
Two 365
Three 367
Four 369
Five 371
Six 373
Seven 375
Eight 377
Nine 379
Ten 381
Eleven 383
Twelve 384
Thirteen 388
Fourteen 389
Fifteen 390
Sixteen 392
Seventeen 394
Eighteen 396
Nineteen 397
Twenty 399
Twenty-One 400
Twenty-Two 402
Twenty-Three 404
Twenty-Four 406
Twenty-Five 408
Twenty-Six 410
Twenty-Seven 412
Twenty-Eight 413
Twenty-Nine 415
Thirty 417
Thirty-One 419
Thirty-Two 421
Thirty-Three 422
Thirty-Four 424
Thirty-Five 426
Thirty-Six 427
Thirty-Seven 429
Thirty-Eight 431
Thirty-Nine 432
EPISODE 6: 434
WITH A VENGEANCE 434
PART TWO 434
One 435
Two 438
Three 440
Four 442
Five 444
Six 446
Seven 448
Eight 450
Nine 452
Ten 454
Eleven 456
Twelve 458
Thirteen 460
Fourteen 461
Fifteen 463
Sixteen 464
Seventeen 465
Eighteen 467
Nineteen 469
Twenty 472
Twenty-One 474
Twenty-Two 475
Twenty-Three 476
Twenty-Four 477
Twenty-Five 479
Twenty-Six 480
Twenty-Seven 481
Twenty-Eight 483
Twenty-Nine 485
Thirty 487
Thirty-One 489
Thirty-Two 491
Thirty-Three 493
Thirty-Four 495
Thirty-Five 497
Thirty-Six 499
Thirty-Seven 500
Thirty-Eight 501
Thirty-Nine 503
Forty 504
Forty-One 506
Forty-Two 508
SPECIAL FEATURES 509
CREATOR COMMENTARY 510
PILOT EPISODE 511
EPISODE 2: 607
OUT OF THE DARKNESS 607
EPISODE 3: 687
THE BURNING MAN 687
EPISODE 4: 767
THE CRIMSON RIVER 767
EPISODE 5: 840
WHISPERS IN THE DARK 840
EPISODE 6: 916
WITH A VENGEANCE 916
PART ONE 916
EPISODE 6: 1000
WITH A VENGEANCE 1000
PART TWO 1000
DELETED SCENES 1080
Gunshop 1081
Maurice 1083
Mercedes and Jessie 1085
Camp 417 1089
Finnean Nilsen Projects
Camp 417: Prequel to the Outpost Series
Outpost Season One
Outpost Season Two
Outpost Season Three
By Bill Pryst
Fist Full of Brunettes: A Multiple-Choice Thriller
By Damien Wright
The Contagion
The Nest
Follow us on Facebook, our blog, or at finnilpro.com
PILOT EPISODE
One
The day started like shit and ended worse.
Sam Watkins washed his hands in the bathroom sink, the water turning pink as he rubbed them together. Behind him, through the doorway, in the kitchen, the small TV blared:
“…the CDC is recommending all citizens use caution when traveling in commercial aircraft and using public transportation. Surgical masks are encouraged. This is not a drill. Scientists are likening the 417-B outbreak to the Bubonic Plague…”
Sam turned off the faucet, dried his hands, and left the bathroom. He flicked off the TV as he passed by it, killed his coffee, and looked down the hall to the bedroom. It was quiet now. To the right of his front door was the coat rack. He took his belt off of it, the service pistol cleaned and ready in its holster, and put it on. Went out, closing the door behind him.
The afternoon was crisp and the air smelled of distant snow. A breeze – sharp, even if lazy – burned his face. The long driveway ended in a single oak tree, reaching for the sky with skeleton limbs in the frost. He squinted down the gravel road, trying to make out the form sitting on a branch. A crow, he decided, though he couldn’t imagine one out this late in the year.
The car was cold and tired, and it took two tries to wake it. Once it hummed to life, he cranked the heater and got it moving. The crow took flight as the car crept forward. He turned on the radio and looked for a station:
“…information out of China is slow, but the reports we are getting is that it is of biblical proportions…”
“…the Russian Military has been placed on full alert, as a second nuclear submarine is rumored to be missing…”
“…speaking from an undisclosed location, the President had this to say: My Fellow Americans, in this trying, frightening time, I urge you all to stay in your homes, take proper precautions, and do not hesitate to seek immediate medical attention if you begin to show symptoms…”
Sam killed the radio and pulled on to the main road, thinking. He was sick to death of it all. Every six months to a year he had to deal with another SARS or Swine Flu or Bird Flu or Whatever-the-Hell Flu and he didn’t believe a fucking word of it anymore.
He had bigger things to worry about, anyway.
Two
“Request denied,” Warden Bowers said, stroking his round belly with his fingertips. On the other end of the phone, a doctor or scientist or something-or-other with a really long title said:
“Warden, the Federal Government has declared a medical emergency. We must be allowed to inspect your facility and verify the health of the inmates.”
“Oh no,” Bowers sneered, “not a medical emergency. Is it almost as bad as the Pig Flu? Because I let you assholes run around my prison, drag my people all over hell, and give these animals all kinds of check-ups – that my state had to pay for – because of that fucking thing, and it ended up all anyone needed was chicken soup and a weekend’s rest…”
“I assure you this is nothing like that. This is serious…”
“I’m being serious. This is a state run facility. My budget comes from my state. The federal government - and the CDC - have no jurisdiction to do a damn thing in my institution. This is a maximum security prison, and every time I let someone in here that isn’t either on my payroll or in chains, I risk my guard’s lives. And the citizens of this state, for that matter.”
“But Warden…”
“But nothing.” Bowers sat forward and leaned on his right elbow, pressing the phone hard into his ear. Said: “You want to know the health of my inmates? They’re alive. Which is more than I can say for their victims. I have fifteen hundred men and women – all violent criminals – in this prison. I’ve got a lady in here that cut her husband’s head off and left it in his girlfriend’s mail box.”
“I read about that.”
“I’m sure it was light reading,” Bowers snapped. “Now, here’s the deal I’m making: my inmates haven’t had a chance to catch your new bug, because we’ve been locked down three weeks after a near riot. There’s no reason to assume they could have come into contact with anyone who might have contracted it…”
“Your guards could have contracted it, or their wives, and spread it…”
“I admit it’s possible, but highly unlikely. Still, you haven’t listened to my deal.”
He waited, it sounded like the caller was listening, because for once he wasn’t talking.
“My guards and their families, you can examine at their homes or in their personal doctor’s offices. Not at my prison. My inmates will remain where they belong: in their cells. If one of them gets the sniffles, my doctors will check them out. If they need outside assistance, we’ll talk then. Sound good?”
“No, it does not sound good! I am trying to protect your guards, your community, and this country. You have no idea the epidemic we’re dealing with. It is a perfectly reasonable request to ask us to see your guards and inmates!”
The Warden smiled. “Request denied,” he said, and hung up.
Three
Doctor Maximilian Van Pelt the Third, Head of the Center for Disease Control’s Command Control and Stability Department for Violent Offenders, sighed and lowered his head.
Why couldn’t that man understand the risks? he wondered. Warden Bowers was a bastard, he decided, nothing more. Of the hundreds of prisons he had contacted, everyone had cooperated – well, all but a hand full, and the others would come around – but not Warden Bowers. He was too stubborn, and too inclined to spit in the eye of the federal government.
Max looked around his office at the scrappily stacked papers. Everything was computerized, yet he preferred the feel of the paper in his hand. Every single sheet represented – not just a single life lost to this disease – but dozens, hundreds, as many as they could fit with size 8 font.
Thousands of people. Millions. If the recent shutdown of all communications with Russia and China were any indication: possibly the entire continent of Eurasia. Billions of lives lost.
“More research,” he assured himself. “We have time if we can find a cure.”
He jumped up from his wobbly chair and darted out of his office. Made it ten feet down the hall and stopped.
He could have sworn he heard something. From behind him.
He turned around, but the
re was nothing there. He shook it off and continued toward the lab.
The halls were all built in straight lines and ninety degree angles. He made a right and a left. Stopped at a door with a sign that said “DONATIONS” and went in. Closed the door behind him and stopped again, dumbfounded.
Something was wrong. It was all wrong.
Fifty empty beds. Where there should have been fifty bodies donated to science to find the cause of their death. Instead: fifty empty beds.
He backed himself against the door as his gaze flicked from dark corner to dark corner. He could smell something now. Something coppery in the darkness. Blood. A lot of it.
“Hello,” he tried to call – it came out a whimper. Louder now: “Hello?”
Shadows on the far wall.
A scream rang out behind him, through door and drywall. From far down the hall. Max turned at the sound, and felt the air shift around him.
Something touched his shoulder. Rough. Something else had his left leg. Then another had the right. He wasn’t on the ground anymore. He felt something sharp enter his stomach and screamed as pain surged through him. A florescent flashed behind him as it burst, and he saw a corpse pull out his intestines and shove them into its mouth.
He screamed again, but it was too late. His last thought, he mumbled aloud: “It’s too late. Far too late.”
Four
“What do you mean ‘late’?” Chris Reed asked, running a hand through his short, cropped, blond hair. “Like for roll call? Because you know the Warden loves your ass, he wouldn’t punish you.”
“What are you,” Mercedes asked, “in sixth fucking grade? I mean I’m late.”
She watched that register on his face. It went from total disbelief to confusion and back, and then snarled up in anger.
“Well,” he said, “what the fuck do you want me to do about it?”
She stared at him, hating him almost as much as she had the man that had brought her there.
“Well,” she mocked him, “I expect you to be a man. You certainly like fucking like one!”
Chris recoiled like he had been slapped by a complete stranger. He looked her up and down, her naked ebony body glistening with sweat in the fluorescents of the ladies shower room. Finally, he laughed and shrugged.
“I don’t know what you think’s supposed to happen. I mean, I’m a guard and you’re a convicted killer.”
“And?”
He shook his big, blocky head. “And you stabbed a man to death.”
“He was a pimp,” she growled, “and he raped me.”
“Is it really rape when the girl’s a whore?”
Mercedes swallowed that little thing that made her want to tear him limb from limb. It wouldn’t be right for her, or her baby. She smiled at him, and hissed: “Yes.”