A/N: Here you go!

Angel's Wings

.9.

Angel is eating a breakfast of an apple and a bag of jerky, with Boomer eating his own bowl of canned food, when Dutch calls over the radio to get to a TV. Luckily, there's a small one in the house she'd chosen, and her aching, painful hands struggle to both turn it on and fiddle with the antennae until the screen is clear. For a second, it was just the familiar tune of the PEG church music, but then the back of someone who slowly turned towards the camera. Angel blinked, staring at who Dutch told her was John Seed, the youngest Seed Brother from what she remembered. He looked weirdly familiar, though...

"We are All Sinners," he spoke quietly, seriously, blue eyes soft and mouth half quirked beneath his black facial hair. "Every one of us. You. Me." he huffed a little, a wry little noise of amusement. "Even the Father Knows, deeply, of Sin. It's a poison that clouds our minds." The camera zoomed out, to film him walking down the church aisle towards a few of the armed Chosen who were watching him with devote expressions.

"What if I told you, You could be Free from Sin?" John asked, placing a hand on one Chosen's shoulder, companionably, warmly, as they walked together now. "What if I told you, that Everything You've ever Dreamed could come True? What if I Told you that Everything could be Overcome if you Embraced... An Idea." The Chosen walked off to the side as a single gesture as the Camera moved around John for the best sight and angles.

"That, Freedom From Sin, could come from the Power of just One Word..." and, much like his Brother did at his attempted arrest, John lifted his hands above him, in Supplication and Reverence, and, above him, was a lit up sign that read YES. Immediately, the Faithful began to chant and shout the word in the background, eagerly, happily, and John smiled with warmth, blue eyes gleaming, before he gestured at the cheering, clapping Faithful to quiet. It was here that another Chosen brought forward a restrained, gagged Hudson, still bruised and slightly soot-smudged from the Helicopter crash, and Angel frowned.

It had been four days since then...

"Yes," John stated, firmly, acceptingly, encouragingly, "I am a Sinner. Yes, I wish to be Unburdened. YES! I Must be... Redeemed." here, he pressed his hand gently, possessively, over Hudson's throat, as if mimicking her own words, unspoken. As she frowned at the screen, Angel still couldn't shake the feeling that he seemed very familiar, even though she absolutely knew that she had never crossed paths with John Seed. It was driving her to distraction, disassociating her from the video beyond concern for her friend and vague wonder at the choreography behind the camera placement and line-of-sight changes.

"If You are Watching this..." John said, leaving Hudson to walk forward, hands folded before him as if praying. "You have been Selected. You Will be Cleansed. You Will Confess Your Sins... And You Will be offered... Atonement." the chanting began once more in the background as he waved at the screen calmingly, a bright, warm smile curling his lips, blue eyes gleaming almost too-bright. "Don't Worry!" he soothed as the chanting rose in volume. "You don't have to do Anything. We'll come for You." The smile seemed to cool, quiet, half-there but... Distant. A mild sort of thing you'd see on politicians or models

"Welcome," he stated, calmly, simply, as the chanting roared onward, "to Eden's Gate." And, with that, the video ended.

"He's such a damn Showhorse," Dutch scoffed over the radio, making Angel hum.

"He looks really familiar for some reason," she told Dutch. "But I swear I've never met him before all of this." There was silence, before Dutch huffed back at her.

"Lotta people say that, y'know," he told her. "'Parently he looks like some hotshot actor or somethin'. I gotta go, Leroy is back with some of the boys, they went huntin' this mornin'. You take care of yourself, Kid."

"Roger that, Dutch," she replied, before settling the radio on the table in front of her. Boomer whined up at her, cocking his head curiously, and Angel offered him a bemused smile and a soothing stroke of the head.

"An Actor, huh?" she mused, sitting down and reorganizing her pack. She still had several sleeping gas canisters, and enough food rations for another two or so days. If she re-filled her water from the sink and asked Sam and his crew about what food they would be willing to spare, and if she used the map Dutch had slipped into her bag, marked with clear "Allies", "Enemies", and "Unknown" places (as well as several places labeled with what sort of predators and prey animals roamed for hunting) she could make it easily to the nearby Apple Orchard on foot by mid-day, sooner if she got a ride, but she wasn't very willing to put these people at risk. The map said the orchard, and it's Depot, were both Cult Territory now, after all, and she'd be far more likely to slip through than anyone else at the moment, since Joseph Seed wanted her safe and sound for as long as possible.

Putting away her supplies and re-filling her water bottles, she glanced one more time over at the television as John's Video showed back up. As she watched him gesture, his expressions shifting, she finally realized which actor he reminded her of.

"Huh," she said, blinking. "I wonder if anyone's ever asked him about that... Something for later, at least," she mused to Boomer as she slipped a few cans of his food into her bag. Rae-Rae had been kind, or concerned, enough for him that she had apparently had each of the Worker Houses stocked with a good amount of dog food, just in case of emergency. "Joy would never let me live it down if I didn't ask." Boomer whined at her, tail wagging, and she shook her head with a chuckle before heading out towards the Main Buildings, pleased to note that the Liberated Workers had been joined by four more people, all of them armed but also willing to help, and another dog, this one a big Rottweiler who greeted the two with a huff and a stubby, wagging tail.

"Mornin', Dep!" Pete greeted from the table he'd set up. It looked like he was selling things, or storing them, from the look of it. There was ammo and some maps, as well as a few First Aid kits.

"Good morning, Pete," she greeted in return, smiling slightly as she absently tugged her gas-mask into a more comfortable position hooked onto her hip, opposite of her radio. "How are you today?" she asked him; he shrugged.

"We're recovering," he replied simply. "Couple'a guys from around came in to lend some extra hands and guns, and eyes... Families have been informed," he added softly, eyes glancing over to the crab-apple tree and its six graves. "Warned any visiting ones to not desecrate the peggies grave, at your request. Told 'em what you said and such. Some're unhappy with him being buried so close to their loved ones, but they respect your requests, since you're Good People an' all. Ol' Billy's dog Velma here," he added, reaching down to pat the Rottweiler's head, making her groan happily, "doesn't have nobody anymore, so I'm takin' her in. She's a big girl, a real sweetheart, and nowhere near as smart as Boomer, but she's got a big, loud bark and big teeth, so any troublemakers'll think twice, at least, with her around."

"That's good to hear," she told him honestly, ignoring the 'Good People' comment. It felt like that saying was going to become her moniker here, and she really wasn't sure how she felt about it at all. "Thank you for asking people to leave Louis's grave be. I understand that what he did, what the Cultists did, was wrong and that they've hurt and done worse to so many people, I really do, but—" Pete lifted a hand, shaking his head with a half-smile.

"Nah, I get it, and they do to," he reassured her kindly. "It's like you said, Dep. He was a human being. Ain't no reason to desecrate his grave for bad life choices. Let dead men rest an' all that." He chuckled and shrugged a bit. "You headin' out, Dep?" He asked her; she nodded easily.

"I figure I'll head over to the Orchard and Depot, next," she told him, pulling out her map and showing it to him. "If I can't liberate them, I could at least gather some supplies or damage theirs, make it a little harder to keep an easy hold on." Pete whistled appreciatively, eyeing it with interest. "The blue dots are Allies," she explained quickly, gesturing. "Or, at least they're Allies as of yesterday. Red dots are Cult Outposts and Enemies last known locations. White dots are Unknown or Neutral or Abandoned areas, places that I could hold up overnight if I need to rest. Since the Orchard is just down the road," she pointed, "I don't have to worry about my frankly horrible sense of direction, since there are labeled hiking and hunting paths, and actual roads leading towards it. It's a short-term plan, but it's what I'm working with today, so," she shrugged, and Pete smiled at her warmly.

"You're a brave lady, Dep," he told her warmly, before pulling out a black sharpie and quickly covering her map in tiny triangles. "These are known Prepper Stashes around this part of the County," he told her. "You can find everything from non-perishable food, ammo, money, to clothes and board games in these. They're just things people have hidden away, sorta like time capsules, for other people to use in a pinch. I found one once filled with nothing but porno mags, lube, and a box of mixed-sized condoms," he told her mirthfully, making her snort. "But each of these Stashes also has a map with the locations of other Stashes on them, some in other parts of the County. We add known spots to the maps whenever we check them out, to help others wandering. Just make sure to refill it with whatever you can spare, and you'll be golden, Deputy." Nodding her head, Angel rolled the map back up and slipped it back into her bag with a murmur of thanks.

"Now, before you go," he told her, pulling one of the First Aide kits over. "Lemme see those hands of yours, Dep." Angel shrugged and offered them, wincing as the farmhand carefully unwound the bandages and used a bit of water from a bottle to dampen the gauze before risking peeling it off. Instantly, the raw, bloody blister-spots on her palms and fingers hit the air and Angel hissed. "Well, hell," Pete murmured with a grimace. "That looks like it hurts." Angel hummed, wincing as she forced her slightly-stiff fingers to wiggle and flex in the air.

"Nothing in this Life is Worth it without Sacrifice," she told him quietly. "If you don't have to work for something, it's either a trap or a lie. And I don't abide by lies or fakes." Pete hummed as he dug a tube of antibiotic cream out of his kit.

"Amen, Deputy, amen." After her hands had been seen to, and Pete had given her a package of one-a-day antibiotics to take that had once belonged to Billy ("He used to get nasty ingrown toenails, would get infected real quick an' linger, so local Doc used to just prescribe him a bunch of this shit each month an' tell him to be careful to follow instructions. Was cheaper than constantly havin' to go to the Doc for that sort of thing."). Waving at the friendly man, and at those other civilians who saw and waved back, Angel left them behind, Boomer trotting alongside her as she walked down a Hunting Path that Pete told her would be safest to take, clearly marked by river stones along one side and Queen Anne's Lace on the other.

Walking through the Montana Wilderness...

It was peaceful. It wasn't filled with senseless Death or Violence or Hate. There was no unspoken Desperation or Expectation of her presence here. She was just another animal, walking through the trees...

Sighing lowly, happily, as a tension that had begun seeping into her bones seemed to melt away, Angel focused on the world around her, not for danger, but simply to admire the beauty around her. The flowers were enjoying the August sunshine as the last of the hot, Summer days struggled to stretch on before the chilly Fall weather began to rise. Already, the nights would threaten frost, and the Wilderness knew it.

She walked like that for hours, absently staying on her decided path as she did. A bee flew lazily past her, and Angel smiled after it, and continued onward, only to almost trip as Boomer came to an abrupt stop in front of her, body tense and a low growl building in his throat. The Warmth in her Heart, which had been so contently Thrumming, rose up into her Throat, it's Tune shifting from happy calm to the familiar song of Take Caution/Step Lightly, and Angel stilled, crouching next to the dog beside her, one hand on her gas-mask and the other reaching back to pull a gas canister out, caution having her fingers curl on the release.

There was a low shuffling up ahead of her on the trail, and she tensed as Boomer's growl rose into a warning snarl.

Before she could call out, to warn whomever it was off, they stepped out first.

They being an abnormally large bear, fur unnaturally white with blood smeared around its foaming mouth and down it's chest, a human arm in its jaws as strange, green mist floated around its ears. It snarled, dropping its catch, and rose up on its hind legs to scream at her and Boomer, more of that mist wafting from the sides of its mouth like a sickly miasma.

And, as it began to charge, as she threw her canister before it and yanked on her mask, already throwing herself back while grabbing Boomer's bandanna, Angel Prayed that whatever had mutated the bear was susceptible to the gas, because without a gun or long-distance weapon, the only thing she would have otherwise would be Boomer, her knife, and God's Will, and while she fully Trusted in the last, the other two did not fill her with Courage.

"Lord protect us," she breaths as bear met gas cloud—

—And charged through it.

A/N: DUN-DUN-DUUUUN!

And suddenly, Angel realizes that she might need something with a bit more kick to it. Something a bit more than just the bear necessities (Wink wink)

It's so easy to forget that wild animals are still a threat, when you're so busy looking for human shapes in the night.

Don't forget to Review!