InsaneJournal

Who: Sam Victorio
What: The Island is short one leader. For now.
When: Tuesday Morning
Where: Resistance HQ, The Island

Sam had been away from the Island for a while. Like so many of them, she couldn't stand just waiting around for something to happen. She wasn't content to hide, and had decided that she wasn't going to anymore. She could be so much more useful to the Resistance out in the world anyway. There was also the fact that Jude was out there, in the real world, and getting to know him better had become something of a priority for her.

While she was gone, communications with the Island were down again. It's isolation made it ideal in many ways for the Resistance, but it also made it frustrating as hell. When things were finally restored on Tuesday the message she got was that she needed to come back, right away. When she returned she was in for a surprise. There was a low level buzzing chaos. Conversations halted abruptly when she walked by and no one would meet her eyes. That meant something had gone mind-fuckingly wrong and no one wanted to take the blame.

When she found out exactly what had gone wrong, she could understand the reaction. Josia was dead. It wasn't clear what had killed him, but there was no point in asking if it had been natural causes. She may have been idealistic about the Resistance, but she wasn't naive. No leader of a group like this got the chance to die from natural causes.

She remembered the strange message she'd gotten from Leo Paulson. She hadn't condescended to respond becuase his offer seemed more like a threat than anything else. He'd known. She didn't know how he could have gotten close enough to Josia to kill him, but somehow he'd known it would happen. Maybe it had already happened when he contacted her. Shit. Something vital had happened and she'd been cut out of the loop. She and Josia. This wasn't good.

Leaving the medical office where she'd been shown the corpse, Sam had to force herself to walk calmly instead of running off to find the people here she knew best, the people she thought she could probably trust. The first person she spotted when she went outside wasn't one of those people though. Not by a long shot. It was Kane, coming back from the dock, and he was accompanied by a dark haired young woman and a tall, white haired old man. Paulson. She'd been right to think that Kane was someone to be wary of. It was no longer a mystery to her how Josia had died.