A/N: And here we are after a brief hiatus. I apologize for the delay- school, work, and life got in the way.

But, I am certainly not done telling Far Cry stories and I am still gonna be writing. I'll try to go forward with less delays from now on.

The next thing I will post will be a completely new story- so be ready for that!

I also want to thank Ragnarok666 for giving me ideas for this chapter and the next and for generally helping me getting me back in the step of things.

Grace Armstrong was lying on her stomach, peering down the pair of binoculars at the scene before her, or at least a scene that was a good hundred or so feet away.

The cult had parked a few box trucks up near a ranch house, where a good dozen and change cultists were busy picking the house clean of anything they could use. Grace had been attracted to the scene by the sound of gunshots. She had arrived just in time to see a cultists prying a G3 rifle from the cold, dead hands of the homeowner.

Grace could have taken up a position and started blasting away, as she typically liked to do in this situation, but there was too much heat for her liking. This job would require more than one person. So, she asked for some help.

She placed down her binoculars and scooped up her custom AR-10 rifle that she had lovingly laid at her side. Raising her torso up slightly, Grace put her eye to the scope and watched a trio of cultists carrying a trunk full of books that were swiftly tossed into a growing bonfire.

Grace glanced down at her wristwatch.

The hell are you people? She thought.

Right on cue, two sets of footsteps kicked through the tall tangle of weeds and grass behind her.

On instinct, Grace rolled over onto her back, sitting up and bringing her rifle to her shoulder.

The two figures stopped. One of them, a woman, looked ready to fight. Her companion held up a hand.

"Jess, settle down, this is Grace."

Jess Black looked at Grace and back to Deputy Morgan Rook.

Grace sat up, relaxing as she did so. She gave a single nod to the deputy and his friend. Morgan said over the radio he would be bringing a "little help," but did not elaborate.

"Rook," Grace greeted.

He smiled at her.

"Hey, Grace. Hope you're alright."

"I'm good as we can be, I guess."

"Uh, this is Jess Black," Morgan said, waving an arm at the scarred, heavily frowning young woman at his side.

"Hey. Grace Armstrong," Grace said, extending a hand.

Jess looked at her hand and up at her.

"Yeah, hi, whatever," she mumbled back before walking past Grace, holding her bow at her side.

Grace shot a look at Jess's back as she stalked past. She looked up at Morgan, who gave a small smile and shrug in reply.

This should be interesting.

Grace had known that deputy for a very short time. A few months ago, she heard that the county got a new officer, but never bothered to meet him. She felt that there was no reason to do so. That all changed when Rook stumbled upon her picking off Eden's Gate followers trying to desecrate the graves of Hope County's veterans.

There was not much not time for introductions as the two of them ducked rifle fire while trying their best to return in kind. But, Grace had seen that Morgan was more than capable and handled his AR-15 better than most guys she knew in the Army handled their M16s.

There was also some buzz about this guy- how people back in Fall's End were saying he was leading the charge against Eden's Gate. Grace's home was gone and she had nowhere else to go, so she told Deputy Rook to count on her if he needed help.

She was glad they met- he was a great shot (despite her jokes to the contrary) and someone she could count on. In a war, she knew that having someone who you knew would be there to watch your back was the difference between living and dying.

Morgan was actually great company too. He was funny, in his own way, and a great conversationalist. He was pretty cute too. But, he was a bit too young for her.

"Alright, so what's the deal?" Morgan inquired as the three of them sat on the gentle hill overlooking the looting cultists.

"I've stumbled upon these assholes looting some guy's place and gathering up everything they can get. They're putting all the shit into their Reaping trucks. Which have a lot of pretty useful stuff in them."

Jess snorted.

"Why are we wasting time on this? Shouldn't we be hitting their bases and shit? You know, hitting those fuckers where it hurts?"

Grace shot her a look.

"I ain't seen this many of their supply trucks in one place. We capture them intact, I'm sure the resistance forces across the Valley can make good use of whatever they have locked away in there."

Grace spoke slowly and clearly, like she was attempting to explain something to a child. Jess obviously did not appreciate this.

"Yeah, well that's cool, but I don't see the point in trying to take back a bunch of old shit they stole-"

"Jess, she's right. We'll take anything we can get," Morgan interrupted.

She looked at him, apparently unsure.

"Just trust me. I wouldn't waste your time. Besides, you get to kill people. You like that."

Jess smirked briefly.

"Okay, sure."

"Alright. Great. Grace, what's the plan?" Morgan inquired.

"So. They don't know how many of us there are. We got the element of surprise. Tell you what- why don't you two get down there and hide out by that little bit of trees and I'll start shooting. These guys don't really have much in the way of tactical thinking and will probably just try running straight at me. When they're out in the open… you open up."

Morgan smiled and gave a quick nod.

"I like it."

"Jess, what kind of guns you got?"

"Guns? I don't do guns," Jess said as if it was obvious.

"What do you mean you 'don't do guns?' What do you kill Peggies with?"

Jess briefly raised up her bow and shook it.

"This."

"Grace, trust me on this one. This woman can handle a bow and arrow like nothing you've ever seen," Morgan said.

Grace looked at the angry young woman, whose eyes were filled with what she quickly identified as bloodlust.

Grace trusted Morgan, but a sinking feeling in her stomach told her this would not work.

But, she trusted Morgan.

"Well, if you say so. Let's get into position."

Andrew had been a member of Eden's Gate ever since they showed up in Denver back in 2012. At that time, his school had kicked him out for threatening to kill his roommate and his parents cut off contact due to Andrew's refusal to seek help with his heroin habit.

He had been eeking out an existence, holding up stores and shoplifting. That was before he met the Father. Before he found a purpose higher than himself.

Now, he was a soldier of the Father, spreading his righteous retribution far and wide.

Andrew strolled out of the sinner's home, holding a box full of canned goods with a PlayStation 4 console resting atop it. He placed the food inside one of the trucks before tossing the video game console into a pile of burning trash and frivolous objects.

"How we doing here?" one of his brothers called from the back of another Reaping truck.

"I think we're good. Maybe we should ask if we can wrap it-"

Andrew did not feel a thing as a 7.62mm rifle round punched through the side of his skull before slamming out the other side of his head, disintegrating the right side of his face in the process. He was dead before he even hit the ground. Around him, the other Eden's Gate men jumped up and ran for cover.

Grace watched the long-haired cultist crumple to the ground, most of his face blown off. She flicked her scope to the next target and gently exhaled while depressing the trigger. Her next shot slammed into the chest of a cultist still shocked at his comrade's demise.

A third bullet caught a cultist in the face as he scrambled for cover. Normally, she would want to relocate at this point, but the whole idea was to get the Peggies gunning for her.

They were starting to return fire, but they were too far away for their handguns to have any sort of effect while they were not exactly marksmen when it came to their rifles.

Grace dropped two more cultists before she saw one man waving his arm forward and shouting at his comrades. They were being urged on to charge at her. Normally, a trained warfighter would not charge head-on at a sniper in a fortified position on the high ground. But, the Peggies were far from trained.

They came at her, faster than she would be able to take down in any other situation. But, this time, she had a plan in mind.

"Morgan, you ready?" Grace said into her radio.

"Just a minute…"

Grace glanced down and saw Morgan rise from behind a tree, followed closely by Jess.

The huntress and the deputy rose from their hiding spots, weapons already firing. The cultists began to skid to a stop and a few were able to raise their guns, but it was already too late. Morgan opened up with his AR-15, cutting down three men almost immediately. Jess, despite her much slower weapon, was more than able to keep up. Her arrows found their ways into her victims like they had a mind of their own.

One man, holding a bloody wound on his abdomen, lifted up a pistol and aimed it at Morgan, who was too busy finishing off a downed cultist to notice. Jess did, however, and responded by letting an arrow sail through his throat.

Morgan looked at her and at the man falling to his knees and dropping his pistol.

"Thanks!" he called while sighting up a new target.

"Yeah, don't mention it," Jess mumbled.

The cultists attack was shattered. Every one of them was lying dead in the grass, except for one, who had turned tail and was trying to get as far away as possible.

"Should we let him go?" Morgan asked as he ported his smoking rifle.

"Fuck, no," Jess spat.

Before Morgan could respond, Jess nocked an arrow and raised her bow, aiming slightly above the fleeing cultist to compensate for gravity. She let the arrow go and they watched as it impacted an indeterminate spot on his back. The cultist stumbled, but got up and began to limp away.

"Dammit," Jess muttered, retrieving a fresh arrow.

A single gunshot broke the relative silence. Morgan and Jess saw a puff of blood emanate from his head before he finally fell.

"Well, then," Morgan said.

Jess looked over at Grace's position and gave her an angrier-than-usual look.

"Well, that was fun," Morgan said as he, Jess, and Grace strolled away from their skirmish.

"Yep. And still in one piece," Grace replied.

"I wish I got to kill more people," Jess angrily mumbled.

Morgan and Grace both looked at her.

"What?" she snapped.

Morgan chuckled.

"I'm sure you'll have other opportunities," he said.

Jess shrugged.

"I'm sure. But I like to take every chance I can get."

Grace eyed up Jess one last time. This girl… where the hell did Morgan find her?

But, he was right. She was indeed a master with that bow. Grace was glad this Jess kid was on their side.

"Well, guys, thanks for your help. Morgan, let me know if you need anything. Jess… uh, nice meeting you," Grace said as they walked up to the Jeep Morgan and Jess had commandeered.

"No problem, Grace. Happy to help. I'll give Mary a call and she can send some folks to go pick up these trucks."

They said their final goodbyes and went their separate ways. Morgan turned over the engine of the borrowed Jeep. Jess had been quiet the past few minutes.

"So, what did you think?" he asked as they drove off.

"About what?"

"About the thing we just did… remember?" he teased.

Jess shrugged.

"Fine, I guess. Still wish we hit them somewhere where it would really hurt."

"Like I said, anything we can do will help the militia across the county. And it's not always in the form of these spectacular raids and shootouts or whatever. Don't worry. We have a long way ahead of us and there will be plenty of time for violence."

Jess smirked. Morgan had never seen her smile or even show any emotion outward other than being perpetually pissed off. Her slight smirks were the only way she expressed an emotion that was not anger.

"I can tell by that beaming smile that you are ready for the violence to escalate," Morgan said to her.

She did something unexpected.

Jess laughed.

Morgan looked at her oddly for a moment. She grinned at him.

"What?"

She had given him a full smile. Well, a grin at least.

"Oh, nothing. I didn't realize you were capable of displaying such a wide array of emotions. I thought your moods were limited to 'kill' and 'angry.'"

Jess laughed again, covering her mouth as she did so.

"You're very right in thinking those are my primary moods. Guess you just know me so fuckin' well."

Morgan smiled back.

"Yep, I've got you mostly figured out, I think. You are capable of acting like a human being, so that's good."

Jess lightly slapped his shoulder.

"You know, most people who made jokes like that- I'd fuck up. But, I've come to the conclusion I like you enough."

"Oh? Like me enough? I'm glad."

"Okay, well, maybe I tolerate you enough."

Morgan chuckled.

"That's better."

They both looked at each other, taking a moment to catch each other's eyes for the briefest of moments. Morgan observed how the light seemed to catch her brilliant teal eyes, reflecting off of her irises.

Damn, she really does have pretty eyes.

Jess broke his gaze and looked back to the road.

"Hey, eyes on the fuckin' road. I ain't dying in no car crash."

Morgan did what he was told, but spared a brief glance out of the corner of his eye.

The last of Jess's first real smile to him had faded. Her face wore its natural scowl now. She had allowed that little moment to happen, but now it was back to business as usual.

"Keep up," Jess called from her position far ahead of Morgan.

Morgan hauled himself up over a low ridge, grabbing onto a sapling to help him do so.

"Slow… down…" he huffed after her.

"I'll dump your ass for the wolves, man. Stay with me!" Jess said.

Morgan smiled and shook his head before jogging up the forested trail towards her.

It was early in the evening and this would be the third consecutive day they had spent together. For the past week, Morgan had been calling on Jess every single day. Sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with other members of the Resistance.

Morgan had found Jess to be an invaluable ally, to say the least. She was very, very good at what she did. That was evident from the start, but now, Morgan could see she was born to use a bow and arrow.

In the woods, away from anything resembling civilization, Jess was in her prime. She thrived on stalking through the trees and just seemed to float unhindered over the terrain. Morgan could barely keep up with her when they traversed the forest. It seemed like he would be sprinting through the woods, while she just idly walked- and Morgan would still be unable to keep up.

Morgan slowed from the jog he had adapted to reach Jess, who was leaning against a large tree and looking quite impatient.

"Took you long enough," she grumbled.

Morgan, crossed his arms and took a deep breath.

"Well, excuse me, I'm not exactly Mister Expert Mountain Man Survivalist here."

She smirked.

"Whatever. You'll figure it out. Alright, I know a spot we can rest up. I think we've done enough for one day."

"Wow, you're actually satisfied with the amount of killing you did today? That's a surprise."

"I guess I am. We did some good. Killed some fuckers trying to kidnap some teenagers. Blew up a few of their goddamn Bliss silos. Helped wreck a supply convoy. Yeah, I'd say that we did our good deeds for today."

Morgan nodded in approval.

"I'd say so. Let's get some food in us and rest up."

Jess pushed off the tree and jerked her towards the trail.

"Follow me and try to keep the fuck up."

A few minutes of walking later, Jess stopped in front of a small cave. The entrance was hidden behind a grove of bushes and revealed a cave with a low roof, just tall enough to crouch down into.

Jess had an encyclopedic knowledge on all manner of hidden, off-the-beaten path places throughout Hope County. They had spent their last three days together away from Fall's End, spending the night in a variety of interesting places. Just last night, Jess had them bunk in an abandoned fire lookout tower that Morgan was convinced would collapse at some point in the night.

"How'd you find this place?" Morgan asked her as they kicked away stray leaves and other debris.

"Eh, stumbled upon it years ago while hunting. Used to come up here to smoke weed with my friends. Back when I was a dumbass."

He chuckled.

"At least a few good things came out of you getting wasted with your friends."

With the entrance clear, they det down their gear and laid out their respective sleeping pads and sleeping bags.

Morgan sat down and sighed deeply, glad to have shed his gear. He unslung his AR-15 from off his back and gently placed it at his side. That was followed by him removing his plate carrier and stretching his limbs.

He pulled off his left boot and the wool socks underneath it. He rubbed his aching foot and gently touched the angry red skin on the side of his foot.

Jess turned to him.

"Blister?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied with a nod.

She tossed him her backpack.

"I got some moleskin in the first aid kit. Fix yourself up."

"Thanks."

"I'm gonna make a fire," Jess announced as she got up from her spot and began to collect wood.

"Do you need any help?"

She shook her head while throwing kindling into a pile."

"Nah. You'll just in my way."

Morgan chuckled.

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

"You can make yourself useful and prepare us some food to heat up over the fire."

"Oh, I wanna be useful," he said before beginning to rummage through her backpack for the cuts of venison she had attained earlier.

They were silent for some time as they went about their respective tasks. Morgan glanced up at her. She was squatting down an working on something, her worn jacket removed for the first time all day. She practically lived in that thing.

Jess almost absentmindedly reached up to toss her hair behind her shoulders. Her hair was long, colored similar to chocolate or a nice warm cup of coffee. Despite spending much of her time running around in the woods, Jess's hair continued to look shiny and clean. His eyes went lower, where he saw how those tight gray jeans she wore clung to her skin. She was somewhat short, shorter than him for sure, but he was convinced she was mostly legs. That suited him just fine. He imagined Jess was fit as hell and toned from years of running, hiking, fighting, and killing.

He almost laughed aloud.

You're fighting against an army of maniac cultists. You've been hanging out with a murderous girl who gets off on shooting arrows into people's faces. And you're checking her out.

Jess stepped up and took a step back, revealing a steadily growing campfire before her.

"And there we have it. I'm pretty good at this, I gotta say."

She looked over her shoulder at him.

"What?" she inquired.

"Oh, nothing."

She gave him a look.

"Whatever you say."

Morgan got up and handed Jess a slice of venison, which she slapped next to his on top of their tiny grill. He took a seat next to her, a large bag of chips in his hands.

"Well damn, where'd you get this?" Jess asked as he opened the bag.

"Found it in the back of that cult supply truck we raided in the morning. I know you like to pack light, but I think this was worth it."

"Fuck yeah, man," Jess agreed as she shoved a handful of chips into her mouth.

They sat in silence for a time, listening to the sound of their dinner cooking while they filled up on snacks.

"So, uh, I gotta ask," Jess spoke up, "are you from around here?"

Morgan looked at her. This was the first time she had asked him a personal question or invited to talk more about himself.

"Oh, no, I wasn't born here if that's what you're asking."

She nodded.

"Yeah, I figured. You don't seem too familiar with this place."

"That I'm not. I've only been here for a few months before this shit kicked off."

"Where were you before all this?"

"Around. Billings, mostly. My dad helped me get a job here."

"Billings, huh? Big city."

He laughed at the idea that Jess considered Billings a major metropolitan area.

"Yeah, I guess. Compared to here, anyway. I worked a lot of different jobs to make ends meet, but I knew I wanted to be a cop. I got my wish and… well, let's just say I couldn't have picked a better time."

She shrugged.

"Or, maybe this is the best time. If you want to think of it that way. From what I've heard, you're really leading the charge here. A lot of people look up to you."

"I really wish they wouldn't," Morgan said with a sigh.

She sat up, resting her hands on her knees.

"And why the fuck not?"

"I guess I just never considered myself someone to follow. It's not like I have any credentials or anything- I worked in a goddamn warehouse before this."

"Maybe it's not about titles or degrees or whatever the fuck people get to be all legitimate and shit. Some people just have this natural ability to get people to do shit."

"And you think I do?"

She gave a little shrug.

"Seems the people back in Fall's End seem to think so."

"You know Mary May, right?"

She nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Kinda. She owns the bar, so it's hard not to know her. We went to school together, but I didn't talk to her really. She was too pretty and nice for me."

"Well, she's the kind of person I think should be running things. She's got that knack for organizing and inspiring people you were talking about."

"Sure. She's good at talking and keeping people's spirits up. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's different than what you do. You're out in the shit, taking the fight to the fucking cult. Hitting them where it hurts. You inspire people."

"I really don't think I'm doing anything special."

"No? Oh, really. Because everyone is out here doing all sorts of ninja-commando shit, blowing up cult fuel tankers, killing their leaders, rescuing people, all that. Nope. Nothing special at all."

Morgan laughed and shook his head.

"You think so highly of me."

"Don't get used to it. I think our food is ready, by the way."

She crouched-walked towards the grill, where she removed two cooked pieces of venison and placed them on mess kit plates. She served one to Morgan and took a seat back down next to him.

"Hope it's not too cooked for you," she said, withdrawing a folding knife to use as a cutting and eating utensil.

Morgan screwed his face in mock disgust.

"Oh, I asked for medium-rare. This is well-done. I'm gonna need to speak to your manager. Now please, otherwise you're not getting a tip."

Jess covered her mouth with one hand in an attempt to stifle her laugh.

"You're such an asshole!" she said between chuckles she tried to suppress.

"Yes, but I'm the asshole leading the Hope County Resistance. So, you're stuck with me until we blow Joseph's head off."

Jess turned to him, finishing her last laugh giggles.

"I guess that's the way it's gotta be."

They met each other's eyes again and Morgan could not help but smile.

Jess was… pretty. Was that the right word? She certainly was not "hot" or whatever. Not even what many would consider conventionally attractive in the slightest. But, Morgan had begun to notice there was just something alluring about her. Maybe it was the eyes. Her eyes were super pretty. Maybe it was her face- she was very attractive under the scars etched on her face. Hell, maybe the scars were part of it.

Either way, Morgan was starting to think the crazy woman who enjoying killing things just a bit too much was someone he would like to get to know a little better. And someone he would want to keep around for purposes other than when he needed arrows to be sent into the faces of bad people.

He abruptly stopped these thoughts.

You're in the middle of a fucking war and all kinds of people are looking to kill you. It this really what you should be thinking about right now? Of all things?

"Yo, Morgan, you alive over there?" Jess asked.

"Huh?" he blinked.

"You were, like, staring at me and you totally blanked out. Everything good?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Fine."

He nodded and turned back to his food, which he had suddenly become very interested in.

"No problems here at all. Nope. Everything is just dandy."

Jess smirked.

"'Dandy?' Well, whatever you say. Just finished your food. We'll need the energy for tomorrow."