Original subtitles

Be not afraid.

What's happening to me?

- I can't see anything. - Oh, God.

Frances. Frances!

Frances!

Frances!

- Frances? - Help!

Frances!

Frances!

Grab hold!

Grab ahold.

Hold on. I'm-I'm trying, Frances!

Don't let go!

You have to sound the siren, Tom.

She's right.

Those thunderheads ain't natural.

Read the accounts of the Storm of 1783.

Started with big, ugly storm clouds just like that.

Storm roared in like The Great Flood.

Storm brought waterspouts and tornadoes.

Men were ripped up into the black sky.

Babies torn from their mothers' arms.

How we looking?

You got your Doppler up?

Yeah.

It doesn't look great.

What's the mainland saying?

We lost contact with the mainland 20 minutes ago.

Okay. Well, then keep me updated.

You have to sound the siren.

You have to get everyone into the shelters.

Right now, it's just a storm.

If I… If I sound the siren, that's all they'll say when they get home.

They went to Widow's Bay and ended up in a fucking storm shelter.

That doesn't happen on Martha's Vineyard.

At least they'll get back home.

People have died, Tom.

- Fuck. - Oh, uh…

Um…

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Fuck.

Uh… Tom!

Oh, my God.

- You okay? - No.

My back. Can't move it.

She's missing a finger.

What?

No, Patricia. Patricia. Patricia.

Patricia.

- Oh, Kenny. - Everybody stay back.

- Oh, fuck. - Tom, what happened?

- Kenny. - I said to stay back.

- He might have broke something. - No. Let him help me.

- Maybe if we both grab a side, we can-- - Back off, Kenny.

He might have spinal damage. Can't move him.

I'll do it myself. Here we go.

- No. No. - All right.

You're pushing it down on me. You're pushing it down on me.

Don't speak, Tom.

Your lungs might be collapsed. All right, here we go. Ready?

One, two, three.

Ow! Oh, my sciatica.

- Oh. Poor Rosemary. - Shit.

- Oh, no. - What?

Thanks, Kenny.

Tom, her finger.

Look, Tom. It's missing.

What?

Frances Warren.

Her brother ran over her ring finger. It's in Sarah Warren's journal.

This woman in the painting, Frances Fisher,

mysteriously washed up on shore as a girl.

This is Frances Warren.

That's why Richard Warren's bloodline didn't end with him.

Because his daughter lived.

Tom?

Tom, are you listening to me?

If that is Frances Warren,

that's over 400 years of ancestry to untangle.

Rosemary probably already has genealogy on Barnabus.

And then what? We round them up?

This is Loftis.

Hit the siren.

This ferry isn't coming, and I wouldn't even get on it if it did.

Can we please just go back home?

No, listen, ferries operate in storms all the time.

Bechir,

get me home.

I just need to try one more thing.

All right? Okay.

Stop…

So, what's the plan here?

I'm getting the fuck off this island.

I know how to operate a boat.

Forty miles from the mainland.

In a boat with a range of 15 miles tops with a full tank.

And even if you do somehow refuel

while in the middle of this storm, the waves'll capsize you.

I can't have my child here.

I understand that, but…

That boat came here on a boat.

Not gonna get you to the mainland in this.

What have you told her?

Nothing.

I can't tell her anything.

Attention residents and visitors to Widow's Bay.

There is a mandatory storm advisory by order of the mayor.

Report to the shelter immediately.

Attention residents and visitors to Widow's Bay…

Sorry.

All right everyone, head towards my voice.

Make this left. Make your way downstairs.

Welcome to your first nor'easter, folks.

After this, you're gonna be one of us. A real New Englander.

Heard it's, uh… Heard it's hitting Martha's Vineyard pretty hard.

Now you'll be refunded by your accommodations for tonight.

That money's already spent.

Okay.

Come here.

I know, I know. I just… I had to make sure PJ and those guys were all coming.

Listen, I know we do this dance a lot.

Today, please--

- I'm not gonna go anywhere. - Can you-- Okay.

- I promise. - Okay, good.

And hey, we can go to a Sox game whenever, you know.

I mean, they still have half a season left, so…

I love you, bud.

All right, go downstairs.

Okay.

We have an issue.

Generator's out.

The emergency lights run on batteries. They'll last a half hour,

then the shelter goes pitch-black.

Oh, my God.

There's power surges through the whole island.

'Cause of the storm, it's overloading the grid.

Even the heavy-duty gear is getting fried.

So-So what do we do? We have to get power down there.

Garrett might have a replacement.

He's got the same one up at the lighthouse.

Garrett.

Garrett, I'm looking right now. I don't see you…

Oh, oh. All right, listen. Listen to me.

We need your starter for the old generator.

I can't understand a goddamn word you're saying.

Do--

Does he not have a goddamn phone?

No.

Garrett.

How the hell am I supposed to get you a goddamn starter?

Garrett, Garrett. I can't hear…

We need your starter.

This is an emergency.

- I'm going up there. - Tom, you shouldn't go out there.

It's not safe.

Let's get you warm.

Let me help you.

Okay.

What's wrong, hon?

Uh, maybe it's just Braxton Hicks.

Dr. Morgan's downstairs.

- Let's get you comfortable. - Okay.

You need to learn to knock, cowboy.

This is a castle doctrine town.

Funny to think the whole island survived

on whale blubber well into my father's day.

The whaler, the captain, they…

they owned this place, my daddy would say.

What's this about, Wyck?

I need you to do something for me.

Garrett!

Garrett!

Fuck!

No. No!

Shit.

Garrett?

Goddamn it, Garrett, I came here for the starter.

Oh! Oh, thank God!

- I'll bring it back. - What? No, no, no!

No, stay there, stay there! I'm coming to you!

I'm coming back! I'm coming back!

Dale, stop him!

Fuck. No!

No, no! Garrett!

No.

Garrett, go!

Go, go, go, go, go!

Get inside! Get inside!

Hey, Wyck! Hey, hey, Wyck!

- Shaman? - Wyck!

Come inside!

- Help me out! - No, no, no! Come inside!

No, no, come on!

Help me, man!

No, no! Leave it, leave it!

- I need these! - Come inside!

Come inside! Come inside right now!

Wyck!

No one leaves this shelter.

Do you understand? No matter what happens.

Ruth's not here.

She's home.

Alone.

Okay, all right, I'll-I'll-I'll figure something out.

We won't leave her out there.

Loftis.

There's something you both should see.

What is this?

I had her run a genealogy.

You-You-You can't be serious. Th-This-This is…

- Wyck, we don't have time for that. - I had to know.

Know what, Wyck?

Turned out Richard Warren has one last living descendant.

One?

Who is it?

No. Don't answer that. It doesn't matter who it is.

- We're not-- - Who is it?

- Have a seat. - Goddamn it, Rosemary!

We don't have time for this. Tell me who it is.

Tom, you're not really gonna listen to this.

All right. Here we go.

Warren and the first wife, Sybil, lost their first two boys

when they reached the island.

As for the others, didn't work out so well for them either.

Nope. Tough break. Sorry, kid.

Better luck next time.

Okay, I want you to picture this.

You're a little girl, and your finger gets broken off by a wagon wheel.

Next thing you know, your dad's dead,

and your stepmom is taking you on an adventure.

Destination? Hell.

Your name?

Frances Warren.

Now, your siblings are dead,

but God's finger flicks you on the back of the head,

and you float back to shore.

Lucky you, Barnabus Fisher finds you on his way back from a whaling trip,

takes pity on you, little girl.

Feeds you, clothes you, raises you.

Wealthy man.

It must be nice.

All right. Where was I?

Fast forward a few years and you're in the bloom of youth.

No, I can't hear.

I… I can't hear.

Okay. You're 14 years old.

Barnabus starts to look at you differently.

He sits you down over a cup of whale fin soup

and he tells you things are gonna be different.

He's ripping pages off the calendar. X. X. X. He's counting down.

Get you a white dress, takes you to the pastor who says,

"All right, I guess." And now you're married.

You suffer a few miserable years.

Barnabus drops dead, leaving you his whaling business

and also a son.

Jonathan is a healthy baby boy,

and when he grows up, he won't be shooting blanks.

He is a stud.

Now, here is where we reach a few ends that are dead.

Dead baby. Dead baby. Lesbian.

Sophia "The Heretic" marries Byron Fairclough.

These jackrabbits had six kids,

and some of them have a few of their own,

but you know what they say,

"A family that swims together, drowns together."

And so, the inaugural swim is born.

That's not a saying.

Well, I guess I don't know what I'm talking about

and should just stop.

I'm sorry. Please go on.

Oh. No good news here.

Dead baby. Dead baby. Lesbian.

Can you please stop saying lesbian?

I can't say that now?

It's the way you're saying it.

Ugh. Fine.

- Anyway, this next batch, all retards-- - Rosemary!

Can you please just get on with it?

Please.

Joseph "The Faithful" has three kids.

Rumor is, two of the siblings took up with each other,

which is their business as far as I'm concerned,

unless they have children.

And in this case, they did.

You can imagine how that went.

Elizabeth spits out several kids.

Jeremiah, Abigail, and Madorah.

They're all tickets to nowhere.

Oh, I could tell you their story if-if we're not in a rush.

Hmm.

I suppose we're in a rush.

Elizabeth's daughter, Grace, marries Abraham Fitzgerald,

and they have two daughters. "The Ungrateful Hortence"…

Things didn't turn out so well for her…

and Anne Fitzgerald.

She wasn't much to look at either,

but she played her cards right, you know, and married Hezekiah.

Her son gives birth to Mabel, who marries Luther Sullivan.

And we have dead baby.

And a daughter with a bunch of kids who died.

It's a great murder mystery.

But I'll get on with it, like Tom wants.

It was the husband.

Henry.

Henry does okay and gives birth to Ida.

Ida and Frederick Long give birth to Clarabell.

I've seen her portrait.

She thinks she's something.

Clarabell marries Benjamin and gives birth to Edward,

and he's not much.

And now we're in the 1900s, people.

We get two brothers.

Grant Livingston, who tried to build a submarine,

you can guess how that ended,

and Charles Livingston marries Florence,

which brings me to the final living descendant of Richard Warren.

And to my knowledge, has no clue about their lineage.

Never married, never had children,

which is surprising because this one was a real beaut.

Miss Widow's Bay, 1959.

So, there's just one?

One-One descendant of Warren that's still alive?

Just one in the bloodline, and…

and they're old?

What do we know about her health?

- Why are you even asking that? - You know why.

I hope to hell not.

I mean, how much time does she even have left?

I can't believe this.

This is a woman who bakes us birthday cakes.

Who lets your son stay in her home.

Patricia…

…no one wants this.

But there are hundreds of lives at stake, and one of them is my son.

And that justifies murder?

You can sit there and say all you want,

but you don't know what the fuck I just saw out there.

This is f…

This is fucking bad.

If it's done, it needs to be quick.

A gunshot, back of the head.

Oh, my God.

- All right, Wyck, come on. - It's barbaric.

It's the kind thing to do. She wouldn't see it coming.

Do you hear him?

You're actually considering this?

What would that make you?

What's it say about us?

About this place?

You want Evan to grow up in a place that does something like that?

He wouldn't have to grow up in this place at all.

He shouldn't have to.

When she dies, it ends.

She lived a good life.

So, what if she's old? You're old.

Would you want to be killed if it was you just 'cause you're old?

I was willing to put the gun in my mouth myself.

- Look, she's not married. - So?

- I wasn't finished. - Oh, cool. Keep going then.

She also never had children.

Well…

Thank God I'm not a descendant, or I guess my throat would already be slit.

This isn't about you.

Mitch?

Oh, God. It's going.

- What-What's going? - It's all going!

Mitch, what-what's going?

Mitch? Mitch?

What is it?

I'm not trying to say I told you so, but you brought families here.

It's been 300 years of hell on this place!

It needs to end.

Don't try to drag it out.

I can make it quick. Peaceful.

You're not doing anything.

What does that mean?

What are you gonna do?