The deputy snuck in from the back, past the guards on their patrols. Climbed a ladder to the roof of the plane hangar, used a zipline across to the roof of the main house and dropped silently onto the balcony below. Entered the house via an unlocked door. This is too easy, she thought. Seed Ranch. John Seed's home. She had been instructed to liberate this outpost and take it for the Resistance. She had done it before, she could do it again.
It was heavily guarded outside, but from what she could tell, there was no one in the house. Perhaps she could use this as an opportunity to get the best angle, to disable the alarms and take out as many Peggies as silently as she could.
Standing on the internal balcony, she surveyed the large room beneath her. Taxidermized animals, cult paraphernalia, so many books... he obviously liked to read. Below her stood a large table with a telephone, which had a flashing light to indicate a voicemail message. She snuck down the stairs quietly and pressed play.
"After all the atonements, all the confessions, and all that you have done for me and Eden's Gate, it's not enough, is it John?"
Joseph seed. The Father. His voice sent a shiver of discomfort down her spine.
"...you need to open up your heart. You need to see that there is more love all around you."
The deputy snorted quietly to herself. Love? She couldn't imagine the man who tried to drown her as being capable of love. The man who tore open her shirt and was prepared to tattoo "WRATH" across her chest. Was he capable of love? Capable of loving himself, she thought, rolling her eyes slightly. He who was always so well-groomed and impeccably dressed.
"...will convince you to do wicked things."
Don't you mean more wicked things? she thought.
"I love you, brother. I love you."
She sighed and looked up, ready to make her next move. Too late, she heard heavy boots behind her. One hand grabbed her around the waist, while another held a musky smelling cloth over her mouth and nose. Her body felt heavy and she began to slump backwards. The last thing she remembered was warm breath against her ear, and a single, silky word.
"Gotcha."