Chapter 6

Dale took long intakes of breath as he settled into the position beside Ray. They'd found a perfect spot in the treeline, masked by the trees' shadows as well as low hanging branches. Their view of the parked truck was unobstructed and they could see the three-way junction up ahead.

The fuel tanker would arrive from the southwest, heading northwards on a stretch of dirt road that ran through one of Holland Valley's many forests. Dutch had instructed that they commandeer the fuel tankers and return them to the resistance. But the last attempt ended in Dale and Ray running for their lives as an armed convoy made an unexpected patrol by the U.S. Auto Station. It had been quietly liberated a couple hours beforehand and the convoy backed off when it realised how many resistance fighters it was dealing with.

It was a sloppy operation. On another day Dale and Ray wouldn't have been so lucky to escape with their lives. This one had been planned the day before, with the route accurately marked up on a map carried within Dale's backpack and likely detours drawn up if the fuel tanker driver got spooked by the truck they had left in the road.

The fuel tanker departed the Kellett Cattle farm and followed the river that ran parallel to Orville Creek. It would turn right onto the dirt road then take the first left. It was on that next stretch of road the fuel tanker would be sent sky high. If the resistance couldn't have it, nobody could.

Dale and Ray, only being two men, could only account for the number of diversions the tanker could take. One: the tanker headed across the bridge toward Orville Creek and took the long journey through Faith's region, crossing another two bridges before emerging north of where the tanker was heading for, which was the Green-Busch Fertilizer outpost. They couldn't do anything about that detour.

Two: the tanker drives close to Fall's End, past Sunrise Farm and arrives at the outpost from the west. The resistance in Fall's End were on alert for any sightings of the tanker and would pursue it, but not if it reached the farm.

Three: the tanker sticks to the main road that is sandwiched between the farm and the Green-Busch outpost. Option three was not as hopeless as option one, but was far from as hopeful as option two. Time would be the biggest constraint in this scenario, not to mention the two Peggie hornet nests they could stir up. Was it worth the risk?

Ray nudged Dale with a semi closed fist and held up a square of chocolate.

"Where'd you get that?" Dale inquired. Ray, who was chewing the rest of the bar, tapped his nose with his finger. Dale scoffed and took the square, barely chewing it before swallowing it down.

"Listen, if I told you that, you wouldn't need me anymore."

"Ah come on, Raymond. I need you around so I feel better about myself." Dale joked, focusing back on the truck.

The plan was simple. Sort of. A slight nutcase resistance fighter by the name of 'Boom Boom' (real name Alistair) had shortly arrived at U.S. Auto after its liberation had been a little too enthusiastic to assist with their plan. Boom Boom had briefly filled Ray in on how he had a wealth of bomb making knowledge, allegedly down to a history as part of an Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit. Ray nodded along and said 'yes' in all the right places and eventually Boom Boom, true to name, told him he could rustle up a pipe bomb the evening before it was needed.

Ray tried his best to shoot down the idea, explaining how he wouldn't have a clue how to safely handle it on a bumpy ride. Boom Boom laughed, slapped Ray on the back, and offered to do it himself. 'All I need is a quad bike and a lil' bit of love. That's all' were the words repeated back to Dale. Dale felt uneasy about the whole thing and tried to talk Boom Boom out of it, but to no avail.

While Dale and Ray were sitting in the office in the main garage, a celebratory Boom Boom appeared, his arms raised in jubilation.

"Good news, Boom?" Ray said, standing up from his chair. Boom Boom nodded, a prideful grin on his face.

"You boys got yourself a pipe bomb. Now, I'm not gonna let you be the suckers to carry the thing, you don't want the distraction of shit in your pants on top of everything else." His laugh was as loud as they expected it to be. Dale and Ray shared a nervous glance.

"I appreciate the offer, Alistair," Dale began, "But Ray and I can handle things when we get there." Boom Boom's hands dropped to his side with a thud and the grin turned into a disbelieving look.

"Well obviously. I ain't getting involved with a big ass fucking explosion. I'll just drive it there for you and then I'm coming back home. I'm not a maniac."

Boom Boom had sped off on a quad bike ten minutes ago after placing the pipe bomb in a shallow divot and Dale had parked the truck as close as his nerves let him and then sprinted back to join Ray.

"How do we know when to detonate the thing?" Dale queried. Ray looked blankly at him and shrugged, "What do you mean-" Dale imitated the shrug, "Did you not think to maybe ask that question?"

"Yeah. No. Boom was rambling on about pressure, or a timer, I tuned out halfway through when he started throwing explosive based jargon around." I don't believe this.

"So this thing might not even go off?"

"Oh no, no it'll definitely go off. He was very, very clear of that part," The two snapped their heads to a new source of noise. A low metal grumble, "Shit I guess we're about to find out how much boom Boom gave us."

The pair readied their rifles, holding them loosely but ready to be pressed into their shoulders. They eased themselves onto a knee, making sure they stayed still.

The grumble began to reverberate through the trees, the trunks passing on the message of an approaching visitor. Detour one was off the cards. Guessing how quiet the sound still was, option two and three were still on the cards. Radio silence from Fall's End indicated that option two was less likely.

The sound loudened. The engine coughed as the driver changed gears. The driver was going too quick for option three to be the move.

"Get ready." Dale muttered, peering below the branches to get a look at the bottom of the road. Ray clicked the safety off his rifle and Dale copied. Dale looked back at the truck, half expecting to see the wreckage from a premature explosion, or a weak puff of smoke from a malfunctioned pipe bomb.

The tanker groaned as it turned. The flash of a silver grill beneath a white hood. He's coming. Dale felt his heartbeat quicken and adrenaline leaking into his veins. Stones and dirt were kicked up into the air by its many tyres as it began its final journey towards the trap.

A slow screech. The tanker pulled up. It was about forty feet from the truck and thirty-five from the pipe bomb. Ray cursed. Gradually, the truck edged forward. It didn't make another six feet before stopping and the tired creak of a handbrake sounded out.

The driver grumbled something and motioned toward the truck with an impatient hand. He looked at the passenger-that's new-and they swung open their doors. They stepped off the truck and the passenger became obscured. The driver walked in the direction of the truck, shotgun held tensely in his hands. He shot a questioning glance to the treelines that flanked the tanker.

The passenger came into view, a rifle in his grasp and a long knife dangled from his waistband. Dale trained his weapon on the driver.

"What is this shit?" A disgruntled driver spat, his pace quickening slightly. The passenger approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He began to whisper.

"You think they know what's going on?" Ray's voice was nearly silent. Dale frowned deeply at the thought.

"I think they're about to know what's going on," On cue, the Peggies ran back toward the tanker, lifting themselves inside. The clutch grated as the driver asked a lot of it, "If they start reversing, we open fire."

The tanker lugged itself forward, the driver fashioning the tanker into a battering ram. It pounded into the truck with little success. The driver slammed down the clutch and yanked the tanker into reverse, angling the steering wheel to prepare another ramming attempt aimed at the back of the truck. The tanker barked a warcry as it collided with the back of the truck.

The pipe bomb bellowed triumphantly as it enveloped the truck in fantastical flame. A cacophony of fiery bangs welcomed the fuel tanker's engine to the symphony of destruction, working rapidly to start a reaction in the fuel tanker's fuel storage.

"Get behind something!" Ray hurriedly yelled, running into the forest and hiding behind a broad trunk. Dale followed suit, picking up his backpack and finding a tree to cower behind.

A deafening explosion rattled and shook through the forest, the trees dancing wildly to the rumble of explosions. The fires snarled as it burned through what it could. But the explosions had ceased.

Dale gingerly poked his head out from around the tree and saw Ray leaning against a tree. A wisp of smoke floated through the hair as Ray took a drag of a cigarette. Dale used the tree to help him stand, finding his body tense from bracing himself.

A large hole where the pipe bomb used to live had formed. The truck was a mangled mess of its former self. The fuel tanker's storage had exploded upwards and looked like a volcano. The fire swarmed the fuel and ate it up.

Dale stood beside Ray. The heat radiating from the rubble warmed them. There was shrapnel embedded into trees closer to the road and by their feet.

"Boom Boom deserves a medal, I think." Ray chuckled.

"There's no way he's ex-bomb disposal, he's crazy."

"I think being nuts is part of the job description. You think any sane guy is gonna approach a bomb knowing it could obliterate him and try to defuse it?"

Dale hummed in agreement and beckoned Ray to follow him through the forest. They had some time before the Peggies realised their shipment of fuel had gone missing en route and sent out patrols to find it, or in this case find the people who had destroyed it.

He and Ray would be gone by then. The only proof of their presence was a burning tanker carcass.

A soft crackling and vibration came from the walkie-talkie hooked onto the cusp of Dale's pocket. Dale unclipped the walkie-talkie and brought it to his mouth,

"Yeah?" The crackling continued. Dale sighed, "You've gotta push the button on the side," The crackling suddenly stopped. Dale stopped walking and looked to Ray, "Is using one of these an alien concept?"

The walkie-talkie came back to live and a monotonous flow of simmering static came through the speaker. Someone's got their finger on the button and now they're not speaking.

"Sin is pervasive. It drives us to do unspeakable acts. I know the feelings that drive you. I know them...intimately." Dale's eyes widened as he realised who was speaking to him. Ray moved next to Dale and angled an ear toward the radio.

"Is that...?" Ray asked. But he knew the answer already.

"But I can help you, Deputy. I can wash away these sins. I can cleanse your soul, it will be difficult and it will be painful. But it will be worth it. My people will come for you. They will bring you to me. Don't fight it. Because the harder you resist, well...the harder we'll have to scrub your soul."

The slithery, silky tones of John coated Dale in a wave of anxiety. Ray's head mimicked that of an owl as he looked around them, searching for threats. Dale clipped the radio back to his pocket and gripped his rifle with two sweaty hands.

"We should move," Ray suggested. Dale was unmoving and Ray nudged him with an elbow, "C'mon, Rook. We're not far from Fall's End, if we can make it back-" Dale looked beyond Ray at a shape that had slinked behind a tree.

"We're not alone here, Ray." Ray spun on his heels and faced where Dale was looking. A mess of shaggy hair and a dirty face peeped out from behind the tree. Probing eyes locked onto the two men.

"It's just one guy, isn't it?" Their voices matched the stillness of the breeze that passed through the forest.

A noise. To their left. A woman half hidden by a tree trunk, watching them with predatory eyes.

A chill ran down Dale's spine. They wanted to be seen.

Twigs snapped behind them. Stones were kicked and rustled through plants on the ground. Dale looked over his shoulder and spotted more bodies. They weren't hiding. They held weapons. They're not firing.

Ray shot brief glances in all directions. Dale watched him swallow down fear that gathered at the back of his throat. Sweat trickled down his face. Dale felt his heart thumping a panicked rhythm. Hairs stood up on end.

"Weapons on the ground." A low voice called from behind them. The man in front and the woman to the left stepped out from their cover. They too were armed.

"What do we do here, Rook?" Ray's gritted teeth muffled his voice. What can we do? The only solace Dale took was they were alive. But they hadn't dropped their weapons.

"Drop 'em." Dale whispered, easing himself down to the ground in a squat and placing the rifle on the floor. He slowly stood, raising open palms in the air.

"Are you serious?"

"Just do it, Ray."

"For fuck's sake, Rook, they're gonna-"

"Ray," Dale glared at Ray, "Drop it." He commanded. Ray gripped the rifle tighter,

"Do as he says, sinner." The woman said. Hesitation. Tension. One bullet would turn into a hundred. Make the right decision.

"Fuck!" Ray spat, flinging the rifle to the ground. Ray glowered at Dale.

"Bind their wrists." The same low voice from earlier instructed. Heavy footsteps approached Dale and Ray from behind and roughly grabbed their wrists. Dale felt a cable tie being wrapped around his wrists and the plastic dug into the skin as it was tightened.

"I wanna see your faces, so I remember them when I fucking rip your throats out." Growled Ray as he made sure to stare at the Peggies capturing them. His threat drew a few amused laughs from the cultists. That only made Ray angrier.

"Very wrathful. Which one of you is the Junior Deputy?" A broad cultist with a very stubbly face stood before Dale and Ray. His arms were folded and a pistol hung holstered at his waist. His brown eyes flicked between the two sinners in front of him, "Well?"

"Why does it matter?" Asked Dale, meeting the Peggie's eyes with his own. The Peggie scoffed and his lips curled into a smile.

"That's not for you to know before the time is right."

"You just the errand boy then, huh? You big ugly bastard." Ray spat on the floor by the Peggie's feet to emphasise his anger. The Peggie's smile turned into a smug grin as the brown eyes landed on Ray. In a flash, the Peggie had Ray's throat in a vice like grip.

"No. I'm the man that gets sent out to slaughter sinners like you. Those beyond healing. I'm the man who guts your friends and hangs them for all to see," The Peggie released Ray. Ray coughed, wheezing as he chugged down air. As quick as before, the Peggie sent a fist into Ray's face. From the sound Dale knew he'd broken Ray's nose. Blood leaked out. Ray stumbled backwards and had to be caught by two other cultists, "You're lucky that's all I get to do to you...for now. Take him to the truck. He's one for Jacob, not John."

The cultists dragged a bleary eyed Ray away. Dale felt himself shaking with rage. The Peggie went back to Dale. Dale didn't notice the pistol until it had fired.

The pain was...different. It was searing at first, but had soon dampened to a dull ache. His heart beat slowed dramatically. His head felt fuzzy. A good fuzzy. His leg ached. He felt weightless. Maybe that's why it was so easy to lead him away. Maybe that's why he was happy to sleep.

"...Don't seem very worthy."

"It is not for us to judge. Deliver them unto the waters. The Cleansing begins tonight."

The cloud that had occupied Dale's head had transformed from a light white fluffy one and now a heavy grey one. His body was drained, but not through some kind of physical exertion. That explosion...was there an explosion...hadn't sent a shockwave through him and rattled his skeleton. The euphoria that occupied his headspace and body had cruelly left him, each endorphin that had been tickled took some of his energy as payment.

He wasn't sure when it happened. But he just knew he was high. Was high. The weariness of his body made it very clear Dale was no longer being bathed in whatever substances were in him. He did now feel like he was being bathed. For real this time. Odd.

"We must wash away our past..." Dale's eyes opened. A weight was on them. Transparent weight.

Water.

Dale instinctively struggled, trying to force his head back above the surface. A weight was on him. A different one. Focused. Heavier. A man sat on his torso, a hand pressed against Dale's mouth.

"We must expose our sins...we must atone!" The weight was released and Dale shot upright. He took in a hearty gasp of air, then more desperate ones. He spluttered in the face of the man. He took in the scene as quickly as he could. Three...six others. No, seven others. Friendlies?

"For only then...may we stand in the light of God..." That voice. The broadcast. The radio. "...and walk through this Gate unto Eden." The preacher. The baptist. John.

Dale was led gently by his baptiser. John stood ahead of him. A book held carefully in his hands. John's arm extended past Dale.

"Not this one." John's plotting eyes landed on Dale. The book was held out and Dale's Peggie stepped forward, grasping it immediately. There was a subtle change in John's expression. In a slick motion, John gripped onto Dale's shirt and thrusted him back down beneath the water. He didn't have time to catch his breath.

More weight. Intentional weight. Dale clenched his fists and laid what strikes he could to John's body. But the Baptist had shifted his grip onto Dale's biceps. Dale tried to use his legs. His knees. His feet. Nothing.

He was yanked back up. He took in a lungful of air. Orbs of light floated in his peripherals. Welcoming lights. That feeling he had earlier was tentatively returning. The peace. The look of contempt on John's face broke Dale's haze. The sudden jerking motion.

"Do you mock the Cleansing, John?" Contempt morphed into guilt. A knowing guilt. John went from murderer to frightened child. The grip on Dale was released. John's arms dropped to his side. The Peggie bowed his head slightly.

"No, Joseph-"

"Shh," The Father had walked into the church and caught the altar boy misbehaving, "You have to love them, John," the orbs of light encircled themselves around Joseph. The light at the end of the tunnel, "Do not let your sin prevent that. Bring that one to me."

The Peggie eased Dale forward. The Junior Deputy found himself floating toward Joseph. Willing to approach him. Willing to be welcomed by him. Blue eyes shone through yellow circles. Annoyance. Frustration. But sympathy. A type of calm. Understanding.

"Despite all that you have done, you are not beyond salvation," a firm tone. Last chance before you get into real trouble, "You're not here by accident or by chance. You are here by the grace of God. You've been given a gift. Now it remains to be seen whether you choose to embrace it..." those blue orbs finally fell from Dale's eyes, "...or to cast it aside."

Joseph shifted easily from Dale to his brother. John still looked like an upset puppy.

"This one shall reach the Atonement," Joseph rested his forehead on John's. Not endearing. An assurance that John got the message, "Or the Gates of Eden will be shut to you, John."

"Yes Joseph." John responded quickly. But in a murmur. Dale doubted John had ever spoken so softly before. The hunter had become the hunted. John watched Joseph leave and chewed on his tongue. He didn't dare cross Joseph.

"You will confess," John locked eyes with Dale once more, "Every sin you've ever committed, no matter how petty, no matter how small. I will pull from you. Then we'll see if you're worthy of Atonement." A threat from Joseph to John. Now a threat from John to Dale. Dale felt a sharp pinch in his back as the Peggie came up from behind him. The orbs of light slowly became blinding. They filled his ears. The euphoria was back. He let it carry his body off into the unknown.

The weather was...different. The usual warmth and glaring sun had been replaced by a wet blanket of heat that did little more than make the clothes you were wearing stick to you. Bugs both winged and not thrived in the moist air, treating the layers of sweat on your arms and legs as bullseyes. Tall trees lurched over him, their deep green leaves swayed in time with the waves of the ocean lapping onto shore. The tranquility was something else. On this part of the island, anyway.

He had been here once or twice before when he was a toddler. That's what he thought anyway. It was a face he knew he recognised but the name had long gone from memory. It was something weird, something his tongue couldn't quite wrap itself around. There was an English name for it, but that was something he couldn't recall either. He had far more pressing issues on his mind. Like why his bloody sandcastle kept sinking and falling apart.

This one had taken him a staggering five seconds to build and took a very dramatic two seconds to fall apart. He threw the spade down and kicked the yellow bucket away. The curled its fingers outward and took a hold of the bucket, pulling it into the sea. Dale frowned. Well, whatever, he thought. He could just buy another. A bigger one. A better one. One that didn't set his castles up to fail.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly half four. Shit!

Dale took off in a sprint. He ran along the sand and tried to avoid the pebbles and roots that jutted out. Monkeys shouted taunts from the trees, the ocean whispered encouragement to him. Dale just knew he couldn't be late. Not again.

He was nearly out of breath already. That would be another mistake. He needed to be fit. This wasn't good enough.

Dale had nearly arrived at his destination. He could see his father sitting on the sand, a pair of men stood as guardians on the tree line. They saw Dale approach and seemed to say something to one another. Fuck 'em. They were weirdos anyway.

But that distracted Dale. Dale was suddenly off his feet and flying forward. His toes on his right foot hurt. His chin dug into the sand and his knees grazed along the exposed pebbles. His skin stung and sand infiltrated the cuts on his legs and arms immediately. But the pain wouldn't be the worst of it.

His father had heard his fall. He knew that. But he hadn't turned around. He hadn't acknowledged it had happened. Dale swallowed hard. The heat had disappeared and an icy chill had sent waves through Dale. He heard one of the men laugh to his right. Bastard.

"One minute and forty two seconds late." Dad finally spoke. He didn't give anything away. Dale felt himself gulp again.

"I ran as fast as I could."

Dale heard a sigh. Near enough a groan.

"You ran as fast as you could and you still were late. Your fast isn't fast enough, my boy." Dad peered over his shoulder at Dale to check Dale was getting the message.

"I'm sorry. I can get faster."

"Or simply leave earlier," Dad retorted back, "If you're a slow fuck you don't try and run faster. You give yourself more time. Though organisation could be another skill you're lacking." Another sigh. Dad had a point. Why couldn't he just leave another two minutes early? Why didn't he check the time sooner?

"I know, Dad."

"Ah so you say you, son, but this is the second time you think you know something," Dad stood and looked down at Dale, "Right. Let's try third time lucky. Do you know what's coming next?" Dale dropped his eyes and-

Someone was looking back at him. In the sand. A head. It blinked at him. Purple and yellow circles around his bloodshot eyes and he had a flattened nose.

"Focus!" Dad shouted and Dale snapped his eyes back up to Dad, "You know what's coming next, don't you?" Dale nodded sadly. He didn't like doing this but he understood it.

Dale raised himself to his feet and quickly swiped off what sand he could from his legs. There were red patches beneath some sand he didn't get. He'd have to get that cleaned later. By the time he had sorted himself out, Dad was holding out a small knife to Dale. Dale took it. Familiar. He'd used this before.

"You're probably wondering who this is," Dad began, resting his foot on the man's head, "He tried to assassinate me coming here. Some jumped up local not wanting to share a slice of his pie." Dale regarded the man for a moment. He looked drained. Physically broken as well as mentally. But he'd tried to kill Dad. Like the other guys. Like the power hungry guys back home and the people who hated him here.

Dale felt his fists clench.

"Why did you try to kill him?" He asked. The man slowly looked up at him and spat at his feet. Defiance filled his eyes. Dad laughed loudly.

"Blimey. Not a fan of my boy, eh?" Dad continued to chuckle and beckoned Dale to move behind the man, "You know how this goes. I ask you a question, you give me your bestest answer," Dad cleared his throat and sat back on the floor, "Where do you little rodents keep coming from?"

Silence. More defiance. Dad raised an eyebrow. He looked at Dale. A nod. His instruction.

Dale pulled the man's ear outwards and began slicing where the ear joined the head. The man grunted. Biting down on his tongue. Trying not to scream.

But he would. He would scream a lot more.

A/N: Thank you very much for reading and apologies for the delay before this chapter went up. The world has, fortunately, been opening up again for a while and I've been working again. I'll have some more spare time now, so this story should pick up again.