‘Panic’ is that wild ride on Amazon Prime. High school seniors in small Texas town play a deadly game for cash. Because who doesn’t want to risk life for money, right? Challenges get crazier. Contestants face fears and make tough choices. Secrets come out. Community gets messy. Stakes rise. What could go wrong?

Meet the characters from Panic

Heather Nill

Heather is this quiet storm type — soft-spoken but you can tell she’s got spine, like don’t underestimate the knitting grandma who also runs an underground poker ring. She’s fiercely loyal in a weird, practical way and sometimes makes these tiny, brutal choices that feel both generous and kind of ruthless? I love that she’s the sort of person who hums while she plans things, and also forgets her keys five times a week. There’s a steady, old-soul vibe but also these flashes where she laughs like a teenager and it throws you off.

Dodge Mason

Dodge is chaos with a grin, the kind of person who treats risk like a hobby and somehow gets people to join in even when it’s obviously a terrible idea. He’s loud, magnetic, infuriatingly clever, and probably has a ridiculous secret playlist — country, punk, piano? — that somehow fits his mood swings. Beneath the swagger there’s this messy loyalty and an actual heart, though he’d deny it and change the subject to a dare or a stupid anecdote. He’s equal parts charming and problematic, which makes him way too fun to watch.

Natalie Williams

Natalie is sharp and fierce, the kind of friend who remembers your birthday and your trauma in the same breath — which is comforting and slightly terrifying. She’s practical, driven, and can be blunt to the point of adorable cruelty, but she also has these small, soft moments (like collecting weird stickers or obsessing over a single song). She leads when needed and snaps when crossed, but honestly, she’s the kind of person you’d want on your side in both paperwork and war. Also, she secretly hoards pens.

Ray Hall

Ray seems like the stable, dependable type — a bit of a straight shooter — but don’t get fooled, there are little edges of stubbornness that pop up like a cactus bloom. He’s calm in a crisis, annoyingly logical, and weirdly sentimental about dumb things, like an old baseball cap or a diner that burned down. He acts like a rock, but the rock sometimes talks to itself and wonders about the ocean at 3 a.m., which is oddly poetic for him. Sometimes he’s a little stoic to the point of being unreadable, and sometimes he cries at commercials, inconsistent but real.

Bishop Moore

Bishop is this moral cyclone — preacherly, intense, and with a stare that makes you confess things you didn’t even think were sins. He swings between honeyed compassion and terrifying conviction, and you’re never totally sure if he’s guiding people or steering them. There’s an old-timey charisma (think thunderous sermon vibes) and also these weird modern touches, like he’ll quote a meme and then drop a scripture. He’s both inspiring and slightly scary, in the best cult-leader-meets-mentor kind of way.

Sheriff James Cortez

Cortez is law and order but with a bruised, human center — he’s gruff, fair-ish, and carries a kind of weary patience like a worn leather jacket. He tries to be the grown-up in a town full of kids playing with fire, which is noble and also super stressful for him (and, honestly, for everyone else). He’s got practical instincts, a soft spot for lost causes, and probably drinks terrible coffee because he never gets around to better. Sometimes he’s by-the-book and sometimes he bends rules like they’re suggestions, which makes him complicated but oddly relatable.

Capt. John Williams

Captain Williams is old school, the kind of authority figure who values order but is secretly sentimental about the past — and maybe keeps a ridiculous, dusty trophy in his office. He’s commanding, maybe a little pompous, but there’s competence there; he’s the person you want in a crisis even if he’s also the person who’ll lecture you afterwards. He’s paternal without meaning to be, and I swear he has a drawer full of mismatched ties and even more mismatched regrets. He’s serious but with these tiny, surprising flashes of humor if you catch him off guard.

Sgt. Christine Langley

Langley is no-nonsense and sharp as a tack, the kind of cop whose eyebrows do most of the talking and whose patience is limited to emergencies. She’s methodical, tough, and has an almost comedic way of being unimpressed by nonsense, which is her charm — and also why people confide in her, eventually. Underneath the sternness there’s loyalty and a faint love for crossword puzzles at midnight, which humanizes her in the cutest way. She can be slightly cynical but has a soft spot that shows up in tiny, inconvenient ways, like leaving cereal on a partner’s desk.

Summer Calvo

Summer is sunshine—sometimes literal—an irrepressibly upbeat force who seems like she’d throw a barbecue in a hurricane and somehow make it work. She’s energetic, charismatic, possibly a little chaotic, and full of wild ideas that often work out despite all odds (or collapse spectacularly, either/or). She’s warm and fiercely protective of her friends, with a knack for pulling people out of funks with a song or a crazy plan. Also, she collects seashells and regrets two tattoos she got on a dare, which she alternates between embarrassing and proud of.

Daniel Diggins

Daniel is the quiet brainy type who’s way smarter than he looks and hides half his emotions behind sarcastic one-liners. He’s analytical, a little awkward, and somehow awkwardly charming — like someone who will explain a conspiracy theory and also bring you soup when you’re sick. He oscillates between ultra-calm and sudden panic (shocking, I know), which makes him unpredictable in a delightfully nerdy way. Also, he probably labels his spice jars and then forgets where he put the oregano, which is peak Daniel.