Far Cry 5: The Collapse
Chapter 5: God shed his Grace on thee...
Dawn came to Fall's End. Guard shifts were changed, breakfast rations handed out, ammo checked, and wounds redressed.
Rook finished dawning his armor feeling surprisingly good given everything that he had been through in the last day, such was the power of clean clothes and soft bed.
But right now he could smell cooked beef in the air coming from the kitchen below and it was a siren song that he couldn't ignore. Marching downstairs the bar was full of survivors turn resistance members all of whom greeted the lawman warmly as he walked by. Mary May looked up from behind the bar and turned a little red at the sight of the deputy but quickly started preparing a plate of steak and eggs. Rook sat at his usual spot at the end of the bar just as his father and Jerome entered the bar.
"Morning Roger. Hope you got some sleep because we got a lot of shit to dig through." Marcus said clasping his sons shoulder.
"So what's gone wrong this morning?" Rook said as he accepted his breakfast from Mary May.
Jerome spoke solemnly "We got word over the radio that Grace Armstrong is hold up at Lamb of God. Apparently the cult is trying to destroy the graves there including..."
"Her pops. Well that's going to get her riled up for sure." Rook finished.
"Exactly. Grace needs help and she is one of the best fighters in the area so she would be a great asset." Jerome said.
"After you get her we have more pressing security issues. From what survivors that have been trickling in been saying the cult has hardened outposts at Sunrise Farm and Kellett Cattle company. Besides being dangerously close to Fall's End they are feeding the cult something that if we keep accepting survivors will become a issue for us in short order even with hunting teams. Next on the hit parade is US Auto. It's being used as a vehicle depot to solidify the cults hold on the roads and I expect sooner or later the cult is going to roll in technicals to attack us." Marcus stated.
"What about air threats? Planes or Choppers?" Rook asked.
"Seed Ranch and Rye and Sons are the only airfields in the area. We don't know anything about what is going on that far south at the moment but I would bet everything that the Seed Ranch is serving as a major command outpost. Maybe not the main one given what that guy said last night about John personally holding VIP prisoners at the old silo but still if we could take that out it would be a heavy blow to John maybe even damage him in the eyes of Joseph. Now getting back to the air threats we haven't seen any additional aircraft since we took the town, we think that only 'The Chosen' are allowed to fly and their number is limited so until things get bad for the cult they won't be deployed in force." Marcus finished.
"What are 'The Chosen'? Sounds like Joseph has his own Waffen-SS." Rook asked.
"Might as well be Deputy. They are by all accounts Joseph's elite soldiers both in faith and skill. A lot of ex-soldiers or at least those with a militant bent. Unlike the bulk of the cultists they actually know how to use a gun." Jerome said.
Rook nodded and quickly finished his meal but before he could climb into his truck his father rushed out of the general store turned supply depot/ammo dump with a red child's wagon full of .50 cal ammo cans.
"Roger, I got something you would be interested in before you go." Marcus said huffing and puffing a bit from the effort.
Before Roger could reply Marcus had opened one of the ammo cans and pulled out a loaded Barrett mag but what mattered was what was in the mag.
"Mark 211's?" Rook said as he looked at the green and white tipped cartridges.
"Few months ago I managed to not only get the licensing but the tooling as well to make my own rounds for the purposes of testing a new .50 cal door gun for the Marine Corp. I took the liberty of loading them up for you as I figured you usually only load one ammo type anyway as far your 50 cal goes." Marcus said with a smile on his face.
Roger was almost on the brink of tears and simply hugged his father in response.
"Thanks for watching out for me, Dad." Roger said still trying to hold back the tears.
"I can't protect you and I can't run with you any more but by god I'll make sure you have the best tools I can provide. Now you go bring some hell to the cult and show them why you are still the record holding big bore shooter in the state." Marcus said now fighting his own tears.
After a few minutes of repacking his bag and reloading his rifle, he was on his way racing towards the Lamb of God church. As he drove past US Auto he could tell that it wasn't as fully manned as he expected making it a ripe target to hit.
'First things first. Got to help Grace.' Rook thought.
Not much further down the road he could at least see that his house hadn't been burned down which was a nice surprise and would warrant further investigation. Finally he arrived once again at the white church atop the hill. Judging by the handful of empty trucks the cult had already sent a few waves after this place.
He got out of his truck and took his Barrett in hand.
"GRACE! YOU BETTER STILL BE ALIVE OTHERWISE I WILL BE VERY DISPLEASED!" Rook yelled.
There wasn't a reply but Rook couldn't miss the green dot that passed over his chest.
"ROOK! COME TO THE BELL TOWER!" He finally heard Grace call out.
As he climbed the stairs leading to the church he noted the dozens of dead peggies strewn all about the graveyard, all of them a testament that Grace still was a great shooter. He climbed the ladder leading to the roof where Grace had hauled up a bunch of sandbags and hardened her position in the bell tower.
"Was afraid that no one would care to come. Peggies have been pushing to destroy the graves here especially veterans graves and I'm not letting them hurt my pops again among the other heroes buried here." Grace said as Rook joined her.
"Looks like they already have sent a lot of people after you." He said gesturing to the killing field.
Grace shrugged. "When they came to my house and burned it down early yesterday morning they kept yelling about looking at the surrounding area for pop's grave. I came here and sure enough they brought sledgehammers to smash the tombstones. Unfortunately for them I had escaped with my rifle and life, so went ahead setup shop here and shot everyone that came with a peggie cross on them."
Any further conversation was cut off with the roar of multiple trucks pulling up to the base of the hill.
"Sargent! To your post! Focus on the boots, I'll deal with the vehicles!" Rook yelled as he dove down and deployed the bipod on his Barrett.
"Got it, Captain!" Grace replied as she fired off a shot that took a peggies head. Meanwhile the suppressed crack of Rook's .50 cal was making any attempts of hiding behind any of the available cover pointless. One of the cultist pickups exploded as Rook hit a fuel tank.
"I LOVE EXPLOSIVE AMMO!" Rook laughed.
Another group of trucks pulled up dodging the wreckage and even crushing their dead brethren. Inside each truck was a flamethrower carrying leader who started rallying the other cultists to charge forward.
For reasons that neither of the snipers could understand the cultists funneled themselves through the two paths leading up to the building. Grace was rapidly tap, tap, tapping dropping the charging peggies in ones and twos while Rook cleared their lines in fours and threes.
'My god these fucking lemmings! They willingly line up and get knocked down all at the command of single man. Just how stupid and brainwashed are these people?' Rook thought as he sighted in one of the flamethrower welding leaders.
"Don't bring flamethrowers to a rifle match dumb ass." He muttered pulling the trigger and watching the round go through the mans chest and detonate his fuel tank. He looked over to Graces section and noted the flamethrower man on her side clutching his throat and falling to his knees.
As the echo of Grace's last shot faded there was only silence as the wind gently blew through the surrounding trees.
"Well Captain, I don't think they'll be back anytime soon. They burned a lot of manpower for nothing. Thanks for sticking your neck out." Grace said as she reloaded her rifle and eyed the field of destruction they had left.
"Grace did you really expect me not to come and help?" Rook said mock hurtfully.
"Honestly from what little I had heard after everything went to hell I thought you where dead. Then I saw Hudson on the TV in John's hands which didn't fill me with much hope." Grace finished.
Grace did notice the slight tightening of Rooks grip around his gun at the mention of Hudson's status but decided not to poke that bear again. After all she of all people knew that Rook would be the first person to go after Hudson at the first opportunity.
"Grace I won't lie things are in bad shape. Yesterday I liberated Fall's End and helped fortify it, Pastor Jerome and Mary May are running the show and my parents are now hold up there as well providing support. After helping you I was hoping that you would join me in liberating a few other places, we got to move fast before the cult can fully react to Fall's End being liberated." Rook said
"You got it, Captain. Better than holding up and waiting for them to come at us, we've had to do that for too long anyway and look at where it's gotten us." Grace said with a touch of anger at the end.
Rook started moving towards the ladder. "Well Grace unlike the earlier incidents we are now in a state of insurrection thus we are operating on basic common sense law. That said the law is pretty clear now: See Peggie, kill Peggie, and save the world." He said as he climbed down then added one more statement once he reached the bottom.
"Also it's not 'Captain' anymore its 'Major'."
The two soldiers walked to where Rook's truck was parked.
"So what would a man like you who probably only just got his oak leaf be doing home working as a Sheriffs deputy? I'm glad you are here given the current shit storm, but you seemed dead set on being a lifer back in Kabul." Grace questioned.
Rook sighed and had to stop and think about how to best answer the question as they got into the truck, but finally he replied.
"Grace... all I can say is that I got involved with some really black stuff the type of stuff that doesn't get disclosed in a hundred years if ever. Me being here is part of that stuff, of course now with the cult I wonder if I'm not going to find myself drummed out."
Grace nodded silently. While she wasn't spec ops like Rook she had rubbed shoulders with that world enough times during her service to know that there were things you don't talk about.
Roger drove back towards US Auto but turned off on to a gravel road heading into the mountains.
"Ok Grace right now the cult is using US Auto as a vehicle depot. Now on my way to you I noticed that they didn't have much in the way of vehicles there so that means fewer cultists to shoot through. Now my plan is that I will approach from right behind the shop meanwhile you will be walking across the ridge line that is just west of the shop so you can get eyes on the front. You won't be shooting unless I have to go loud for some reason since you aren't suppressed. We'll fix that once we get back to town. Understand?"
Grace nodded in understanding as Rook eventually pulled off the road far enough that the truck was mostly hidden among the trees.
They split up with Rook slowly picking his way down the hill to the repair shop slash junkyard and Grace racing along the western ridge as fast as she could without breaking her cover.
A sniper could be seen wondering around on the roof while about six more cultists busied themselves working on a pair of cult pickups or organizing various small parts.
"Major, got eyes on two guards at the front gate, six working in the yard, one sniper on the roof, and one that just entered the front office." Grace whispered into her radio.
Just as Roger was about to answer a cultist who resembled the Preacher judging by the large red facial cult cross on his face came walking out of the open rear garage door.
"LUNCHTIME! Come and get it!" He called out.
Everyone in the yard and the sniper on the roof started hustling into the garage where a picnic cloth was being laid out and a large basket of various foodstuffs was prepared for dividing out.
"Sarge, are the front guards moving towards the building?" Rook whispered into his radio as he watched everyone else gather on the cloth and the preacher started thumbing through his copy of Joseph's heretical text.
"Yeah, even the roof sniper disappeared. What's going on?" Grace replied.
"Grace you won't believe this but... these guys are taking a lunch and sermon break." Rook said incredulously.
"You've got to be shitting me... got any grenades?" Grace asked.
"Nope but I sure wish I had a few. No matter... ok new plan, I'm going to get close and hose them with my .30 cal you go ahead and you shoot anyone that comes racing out the front. Copy?" Rook said as he started moving around the scrap cars towards the garage.
"Copy. Standing by." Grace said as she went prone and dialed in the rough distance from where she was to the door leading into the garage.
"Oh god, we thank ye for sending The Father to us. To find us. To guide us. To gather us together so that we may prepare per your word through our beloved Father and his heralds. We ask that you bless this food, that it may strengthen our bodies for the trials ahead and that it may harden and steel our souls so that we maybe ready for the coming of The Collapse..." The preacher said as he stood over the sitting cultists their heads bowed and eyes closed as they all soaked in the heretical words. Almost all of them had their rifles propped against a nearby wall and their sidearms where still safely tucked into their holsters.
Rook quietly entered the garage with his rifle in hand. He moved so he was at a slight angle to the group so he was more likely to hit more than one person per a shot and shouldered his rifle just as the preacher finished his prayer.
"We say these things in the name of The Father and the Lord thy God. Amen." The Preacher finished then looked up at the Deputy in shock.
"Behold 'The Collapse' is upon you and has found ye wanting." Rook said calmly as he squeezed the trigger. The suppressed putt-putt-putt of the rifle was soon drowned out by the dying screams of the cultists as he poured automatic fire first into those sitting on the ground then moved to kill the Preacher.
The Preacher forgot the revolver he carried and once the sudden shock of his people being killed had faded, charged the giant that was slaying his people intending to strike the giant down with the holy word of Joseph.
Rook poured more rounds into the fanatic with the book but even as he saw the man take multiple impacts in the chest, thighs, and groin from full power rifle rounds he kept coming. Just before the man was upon him the fifty round drum on his rifle ran dry... the man was still coming.
He fell back to basics as he side stepped the book being swung at his head and swung the butt of his rifle in reply connecting hard with the Preachers head in a wet crack. The man fell stunned but still alive and trying to recover and take another swing with his book.
To this Rook slammed the butt of his rifle repeatedly into the mans head and neck until he stopped moving... mostly.
"What in the nine flaming hells are you people?!" Rook yelled to the prone man whose mouth was flopping about struggling but ultimately succeeding to draw in breaths. Rook looked around and found a fire ax hanging on a wall and quickly seized it.
"Jose... Joseph... only wishes to help you people. Why do you not accept his help? Do you not follow the word of God?" The Preacher wheezed as it would seem the mass of damage and general trauma was finally catching up with him.
"Why can't you see that I am merely a messenger from your God. I am 'The Collapse' and I will bring Joseph's flock to slaughter and decorate the path to your 'New Eden' with your corpses." Rook growled as he lifted the ax and with a loud roar brought down on the Preachers neck with such force that the ax head sparked and shattered against the concrete floor of the garage.
He let the broken tool fall to the floor. Took his rifle back into his hands and slapped in a fresh drum.
'The cult is fielding men that can take a chest full of 250 grain .30-06 at near point blank range and still keep going. How though? Maybe this is what Bliss does to some people. After all it made for Grizzlies that could shrug off anything short of a critical crippling hit.' He thought as he opened the front garage door.
Grace was still at her position when she saw the door open and only Rook step out into the afternoon sun. She got up and carefully slid down the hill side to rejoin him.
"Can't believe that the peggies are that stupid." Grace said as she approached.
"Grace these people are fanatics first and foremost. They are mostly not soldiers or even people that would generally know or care about military history or theory. The concept of discipline beyond that dictated by their faith is something they lacked thus why they probably fell for the cult in the first place. Joseph knows best and gives them order and they don't need to think anymore than do as he dictates." Rook said. He was about to continue when he hear a muffled cry from the front office.
Rook and Grace rushed into the office and found a local man tied up behind the counter.
"Help me please! There is someone else stuck in the restroom too!" The local said as Rook cut his ties. Grace rushed over and unlocked the bathroom door and freed the other local.
"Thanks Deputy, names Max I work here at US Auto or at least used to since the Cult rolled in. They chased us out of here on the first day but my friends and I came back armed to try and take it back but we got overwhelmed." Max said.
"Well right now I'm going to call into Fall's End and see if we can't get more hands and guns over here. The cult won't be taking this place back. Do you know where the rest of your people are?" Rook asked.
"Dead. One they locked in a shipping container and when they checked on him I overheard them say he died of heat exhaustion. The others were tied up and left for the bears. I know at least one peggie got killed when the bear decided on adding some tofu to its last meal, not much of consolation prize but it is what it is." Max ended.
It took an hour before a small convoy of trucks came up the road loaded down with supplies and manpower. Another hour had passed before the area was secured and Rook busied himself with the grim business of once again impaling the dead peggies along side the road.
As he was putting the finishing touches on the Preacher, Grace finally got the courage to talk to him about this. "Rook is this really necessary? I mean are we really no better than the cult by doing stuff like this?" She asked pointing to the impaled cultists.
Rook stopped and looked at his old friend with a 'I'm not sad, I'm disappointed' type look. Eventually he replied. "Grace, do you think we gain anything by not going this far? Do you think that we are not playing directly into the cults plans by trying to maintain our civility despite what it costs us?"
"Well uh..." The sniper trailed off uncharacteristicly.
Rook continued. "The answers are 'No' and 'Yes' respectively. The cult thus far has shown utter contempt for every part of our lives and the freedoms that we live by. They gladly manipulated the basic freedoms granted to all American citizens so that they can practice their faith even as that faith turned violent. Then under that cover they took more from the people and broke more laws because with every victory they became more emboldened in the belief that their faith their... ideology was without fault."
He sighed trying his best to not get angry at his friends lack of understanding.
"Grace, we both have seen what happens when you pull your punches in Afghanistan. We get a unending conflict as with every pulled punch, every opportunity not fully exploited, every hostile not killed we either allow or actively plant the seeds for the war to continue and our sons will fight our enemies and their sons will again fight our enemies.
We don't have that luxury here, Grace. Here we need to stop the cult cold and dead the first time. We don't have enough resources to fuel an endless war. So yes we need to not only kill every single cultist but we need to get into their heads, use their dogma against them. Make them question 'The Father'. Make them fight amongst themselves. Make them beg us to kill them so they can reach 'Eden's Gate' when they realize that Joseph can't lead them there."
"But Rook these are still human beings..." she tried to say but her more pragmatic side was already starting to see the Deputy's point.
"When you try to humanize your enemies where does that humanity come from? Let me tell where it comes from... it comes from you and the more you try humanize your enemies the less human you become in turn. When you love your enemies more than you love your own people, your own family even, are you not a monster?" Rook finished as he walked away towards the garage to wash the gore off of his hands.
Grace was left there at the side of the road alone looking into the blissful face of the preacher Rook beheaded.
'I have 225 rounds of ammo for my rifle. At best that's 225 dead peggies out of thousands. Here I am worried about how they feel about how they are being treated. They murdered pops. Burned my house down trying to kill me. Tried to destroy our history. Murdered even more innocent people. Yet here I am worried about how they feel... maybe Rook isn't as mad as I thought we was. After all we are out numbered and out gunned and we the people didn't fire the first shot. The cult could have just quietly locked themselves in their bunkers and disappeared, but they didn't. They came for us.' Grace thought as she returned to the outpost.
Sometime and a short hike back up the mountain Rook returned with his truck and Grace and he made off for their next target.
Kellet Cattle Co was one of the oldest family owned businesses in the valley even predating the founding of Fall's End. From what Grace had told him the Kellets openly refused to sell to the cult repeatedly and had even shot a few cultists that had tried to steal some of their heads of cattle over the last few months.
Rook kept to the side roads and eventually approached the farmstead from the east parking at the foot of a large red silo that bore the eight pointed cross of the cult.
"How do you want to handle this Major?" Grace said as she looked over the field of cattle that stood between them and the farmstead proper.
Rook thought for a moment as he listened to the cattle in the pasture and the soft sounds of cult gospel music on the wind.
"Ok Sargent, climb up to the top of this silo and get eyes on the buildings, meanwhile I will make my way through the pasture on foot." He finally concluded.
Their path set Grace raced up the exterior ladder of the silo and took her post at the top. Rook crouched through the grass, moving as fast as he could toward the buildings while avoiding both the bulls and the scattered bullshit on the ground.
Grace scanned the farmstead and saw that among the butchered cattle being processed by a handful of the cultists the others were either on watch or guarding a group of four hostages in front of the house.
"Looks bad Major, got four peggies butchering the cattle, a watchman on top of a old travel trailer, a big guy with some heavy looking armor and a M60, and two more watching hostages... they're definitely the Kellets." Grace whispered into her radio.
Rook continued sneaking towards the farm. "Do you see any one with a red cross tattoo on their face?" he asked.
Grace took to her scope again and indeed a man dressed in a butcher's apron had a angry red cult cross on his face.
"Copy that, I got one of the butchers who has a cross on his face. You know him?" She inquired.
"Negative, I've run into three of these guys and two of them didn't die the first time. In Fall's End I put a .50 thorough half his head and he was still able to signal for air support before I put one in his chest. Up at US Auto I dumped half a drum of .30-06 into one at near point blank range and it still didn't stop him." Rook replied.
"So that's the one you cut his head off?" Grace said.
"Yeah bashed him with my rifle but he was still alive though not fighting anymore. I think its this 'Bliss' shit at work given what I saw it do to those bears I fought. In any case I'm going to treat them as priority threats." Rook said just as Grace cut him off.
"Hold up! Got movement out front, peggie van probably here to pick up the Kellets! You need act fast Major." She called out.
'Shit so much for slow and careful stealth.' Rook thought.
Rook was still twenty yards from the fence separating the pasture he was in from the various barns and sheds that made up the farmstead. He had a plan and it had worked once in the past in a similar situation but it was risky in the extreme.
He swapped for his shotgun. To the casual observer it looked like a Franchi SPAS-12 the iconic movie and video game shotgun. But this was not built by Franchi at all, but in fact his father's company. After production had ended in 2000 his father started a 15 year journey to get the production rights for the design seeing that there was a market for such guns among the emerging video game generation of children in the US. This became even more apparent with the end of the assault weapons ban that had originally ended US importation thus dooming the gun to the comparative wasteland that was the European firearms market and thus leading to the end of its production run.
Then finally after years of phone and email tag he got the legal right to produce the design in his shop. With that vulnerability covered he next endeavored to improve upon the flaws of the original, a high strength steel receiver, improved buffer and buffer spring system, lighter weight materials where possible, a nigh unheard of 3.5 inch chamber, and built in picatinny rails for modern sights and accessories.
Of all of his fathers work that could be openly sold to the public this was one of his best creations and Roger's was the first production model complete with a laser engraved message from his father on the receiver.
They told me it couldn't be done. Now where are they?
He had nine rounds of 000 buckshot plus one in the chamber so ten rounds and eight known guards plus figure a driver and another guard for the prisoner van. Again this was risky but he didn't have time for subtlety.
He unfolded the stock and set the gun into semi-auto and sprinted towards the fence and vaulted over it in one smooth motion before continuing to home in on the butcher with the red cross. The butcher was too focused on his task to really take note the sound of running feet on gravel until he got a hard boot to the head that laid him out on to his back and before he could discern what had happened had the barrel of the shotgun shoved hard into his open mouth and was given his ration of lead for the day.
The shot spooked the other men nearby as Rook snapped up and left into a small barn where two cultists were hauling loaded coolers, he gave them each a shot dropping them in kind as he felt a poorly thrown carving knife bounce off of his backpack as the man behind him at the carving station fumbled with blood soaked hands for his pistol. Rook spun 180 and watched half of the cultists face disappear in a puff of red gore as he fired again.
Rook sprinted towards the back of the house just as a crudely armored man rushed out almost face to face with him. Rook kicked the heavy in the balls causing him to bend forward in pain as Rook positioned his gun under where the mans head would be and fired. The 14 .36 caliber pellets bounced and ricochet under the mans Stalhelm helmet ultimately sending it flying upward with enough force to embed itself in the porch awning overhead.
Pushing past the dead body he raced left and spotted the confused watchman atop the trailer but just as Rook was about to blast him the mans chest exploded as Grace made her presence known finally.
Rook took the good fortune in stride and swung right snapped off another pair of shots on the two men guarding the screaming hostages. The prison van driver and his guard had taken up position behind the front of the van and behind one of the open rear doors. The rear guard tried to shoot back first by wedging his AR between the open door and the body of the van, his logic being that the metal would give him cover. In this he was wrong as another blast of lead tore through the door and the taillight and thus into his chest.
The driver seeing as he was alone tried to get back in the drivers seat and drive off but that only gave Rook a clean shot at his head.
He stopped and listened for a moment tuning out Miss Kellets sobbing and listened for any other peggies. Hearing nothing he called out on the radio.
"Sarge, farm is clear of tangos go ahead and drive back here to regroup ASAP."
"Copy, moving." He heard his partner reply.
With the ending of the shooting and the bleeding off of his adrenaline Rook moved to free the Kellets who were understandably grateful for their timely if a bit terrifying rescue. As the family gathered themselves and started tending to their own minor injuries Rook heard his radio go off on one of the open channels.
"Brothers and Sisters... Someone is out there not playing by the rules. They are taking from us. Stealing what rightfully belongs to The Father. They are a murderer and a coward but God sees them... and God will guide us to them. They will be found and they will be punished. This is the will of The Father."
Grace then pulled up in his truck.
"Rook, you heard that last call on the radio?" She asked as she climbed out of the truck.
"Yeah it would seem that John is at least aware that the cult has lost territory but at least he is not aware of who is doing most of the assaulting. All the more reason we need to hit the last outpost for the day."
Rook got back on to his radio. "Pastor. We have secured Kellet Cattle Co with all Kellets accounted for please send defenders and hands to hold this place."
"I copy Deputy. It's good to hear that they are safe, I will have those reinforcements out in less than five minutes. By the way we heard John's little speech. It's clear that you have managed to anger him but from that anger the resistance will have hope that he can be stopped." The pastor replied.
With word that help was on the way Grace turned to Rook.
"So mind explaining what the hell was that stunt you just pulled. I mean I knew we suddenly had to rush things but you could have called for me to support you." She chastised.
Rook suddenly became aware of the amount of peggie blood on his shotgun and glanced around for something to wipe it off with.
"Well Grace with that van coming for the Kellets I couldn't wait to call out targets not to mention the moment the first body drops we run the risk of any of these guys..." Rook kicked a nearby peggie corpse to empathize his point. "That they could sound an alarm or call for air support and of course hurry their hostage pick up. So I had to pull off my own little 'Blitzkreig' with maximum violence and speed. Still thanks for taking out that watchman, one thing I was worried about was emptying my 12 gauge before all the peggies were dead." Rook said as he finally found a rag on a dead peggie to clean off the blood on his gun.
Grace huffed slightly. His logic made sense and the results showed it but it was clear that she couldn't really keep up with Rooks combat style. Both at US Auto and here she had to hang back which normally isn't a problem but it did mean that with only the two of them it left Rook unsupported on the ground and thus more prone to snap decisions like his 'Blitzkreig'.
"Well at least tell me next time when you are going to just rush in like that." She finally said.
Rook nodded and started his usual post combat task of desecrating the peggie bodies. Grace hung back and kept watch for any other peggies but before long the convoy of resistance members showed up with supplies and materials needed to fully fortify the homestead.
The sun was getting low by the time the two fighters left the farm and made their way north to Sunset Farms. It was a short trip and soon Rook had pulled off the road and parked among the trees that separated Sunrise Farm from the gravel road they were on.
The plan was to approach from the back of the property since the farm and its buildings sat in a small depression thus giving them a decent view of the surrounding area and see what they had to deal with and go from there. What they found was a another watchman on atop another travel trailer that the cult had somehow managed to put a M60 on a pintle mount thankfully the watchman had all their attention directed towards the inner yard as if they were there more to keep watch over the other peggies actions.
Within the yard they could see a flamethrower gleefully hosing down the already burned out ruins of the farmhouse sometimes even having bursts of maniacal laughter as he watched the flames grow, behind him four men loaded pumpkins into pallet mounted bins readying them for pickup. Lastly a lone sniper stood atop the barn watching the east road approaching the farm.
"Good thing we didn't come from the front. That guy has a clear line of sight of everything in that direction for miles." Grace said once she spotted the opposing sniper.
Rook didn't reply immediately as he brought out his Barrett and watched a rising dust cloud coming from the east.
"Looks like we got more incoming." Rook said as he looked through his scope.
The sniper on the roof did the same and called out to the others the approaching truck. The truck when it finally pulled up had clearly been the victim of a lot of gun fire given the state of the front windshield what was left of it any way and the shear number of bullet holes in the box that were so numerable that even from where Grace and Rook were could tell what had happened.
The driver tiredly flopped out of the truck after parking it and sat on one of the cab steps mounted to the fuel tank as everyone on the ground gathered around him.
"Heads up sniper is coming down now." Grace whispered and soon enough the only person not focused on the group was the machine gunner in front of them. This gave Rook an idea.
"Hey Sargent, want to save some ammo?" He asked.
Meanwhile with in the yard the flamethrower a man named George passed a bottle of water to the driver as he tried to find out what happened.
"Be at ease brother. What is your name?" George asked.
"My... my... name? Oh uh... it... its Alex." The driver managed once he found his tongue.
"Ok Alex what happened to you and the truck? Was it the sinners that Herald John spoke of?" The masked pryo spoke calmly.
Alex tried to start speaking several times but the sounds of gunfire still echoed within his mind. Eventually though he did speak. "Yes... yes it was. I was just about to pass US Auto when I was attacked by some sinners collecting a deer at the side of the road. I drove as fast as could but once I reached US Auto I was shot at from big machine guns... I noticed that... they had the bodies of our brothers and sisters impaled along side the road. When I got close to the intersection that leads to Fall's End they had more bodies there and more big guns and... and just more sinners! They all shot at me!"
Alex was now hyperventilating as he relived the memory. He knew his faith in The Father had protected him but to come so close to death... He wanted to live through 'The Collapse' he wanted to see New Eden with his own mortal eyes, all he had to do was follow The Father. Right?
The others around him murmured most with anger and outrage but even as they condemned the sinners a thread of fear had now wrapped itself around their hearts.
George ignored such things, his faith was beyond question, and he had personally been gifted the privilege of having his sins tattooed on his chest by the Herald John himself and that day made a Purifier to burn away the sins of others and clear the path for the faithful.
"Quiet! Alex I want you to know that you live right here and right now due to the will of God. It is your purpose to survive and bring word to us so that the faithful can now move against these sinners. Tell me can you still drive?" George asked.
"Y-Yes, Purifier." Alex responded.
"Does your truck still run well enough?" George asked again his voice rising.
"Yes, Purifier." Alex responded his own energy now being boosted by the Purifier's calls.
"Then we will complete The Reaping! As The Father has directed us and we will bring word of these happenings to Herald John. We will not be dissuaded and we will continue to work and fight for The Father. SAY IT WITH ME BROTHERS! FOR THE FATHER!" George cried out lifting his flamer over his head.
The men joined even by the weary driver had their spirits boosted so that the thread of fear that still gripped their hearts couldn't be felt anymore... for the moment.
As this was happening Rook and Grace approached the trailer. Rook easily reached up and grabbed the woman that was watching the driver be questioned by her ankle and jerked her leg back off the edge. He could easily see that she had slammed her jaw into the edge of the trailer which only added to damage done as he slammed her again down on the ground and as Grace moved to stab her in the throat and end her threat to them. Meanwhile Rook climbed up and tested the mounted weapon, as expected they had done little to nothing to reinforce the roof the trailer making it useless for holding the weapon and its mount. Thankfully though they did use a quick detach mount for the gun and soon he had a old familiar weapon in his hands once again.
By now the gathered cultists had started their chant completely lost in their fervor to note the lawman watching them.
'What do you say John? Fuck'em!' Rook quoted as he squeezed the trigger and hosed down the group of men with a long burst of fire, cutting them down like grass before the scythe. With the echos of the gun dying in the distance as the last rays of light dropped below the horizon he felt a since of peace about him.
"Hey Rook if you are over playing John Rambo I'll call this in while you hoof it back to the truck this time." Grace called from below him.
He laughed loudly and laid the machine gun down on the trailer roof before jumping down and starting for the truck.
"Nothing is over! Nothing!" Rook said over his shoulder in his best Stallone impersonation.
He trudged up the hill toward the grove of trees that had his truck when something bothered him. It had gotten quiet, not the quiet of nature or even of a battlefield after the battle but of an ambush. He drew his Desert Eagle just as a large dart stabbed him in his right arm where he had no armor, he started running feeling as if he had been drugged slightly. But more darts came at his legs and his arms some of them missing and hitting the ground others hitting his holsters and ammo pouches, but still more hit their mark and with every hit he could feel the weight of his limbs increase and his vision now had dancing stars across it.
'Fuck I've been 'Blissed'!' thought Rook as he gave up running and turned to see a five man team of red balaclava wearing men stalking him. He managed to get his gun arm up and dumped the mag not really aiming but he saw at least two of the men drop and another one grab his knee suddenly. The hand cannon ran out and Rook holstered it and tried reaching for his 1911 but by now the drugs had taken hold enough that even he couldn't will his hands to move much.
Grace had been walking on the far side of the property after radioing for backup when she heard the roar of Rook's magnum. She raced as fast as she could back to the rise that they had been watching the farm from just minutes earlier. She could see among the trees that Rook was down and had two men on trying to drag him away, but just as she raised her rifle her position on top of the hill erupted in numerous fountains of dirt as no less than three cult technicals opened up on her.
She dove back behind the rise and watched as the trees and ground kept churning with bullet impacts. They were suppressing her to keep her pinned while they took Rook away. Her training kicked in as she got on to her own radio.
"This is Grace to all friendlies, Eagle is chained! I say again Eagle is chained! The cult has taken the Deputy! I am pinned down by cult gun trucks at Sunrise Farm, need back up and anti-vehicle support!" She called as an entire tree started falling towards her having been torn to shreds by the sheer volume of fire. She rolled further down the hill until she got her feet under her again and rushed along it to try and flank the cultists from their rear.
As she was about to peek over the rise again in a section that didn't look to be under fire the gun trucks stopped firing and could be heard driving off. She rushed over the crest and slid down the other side straight into drainage ditch full of water.
Grace recovered and went prone on the road even as the rearmost of the trucks started firing at her wildly trying to again suppress her position rather than actually accurately hit her. She snapped off a shot that hit the offending gunner in the neck, after that it she poured fire trying to hit a driver or a tire or anything to slow them down until they finally had just gotten too far away.
She said nothing as she stood up still soaked from her landing until finally even her demeanor finally broke.
"FUCK! FUCKING MOTHERFUCKERS! FUCK!"she screamed into the coming night. The resistance had just lost probably one of the few people in Hope County that could not just fight back against the cult but wage full blown warfare and she had been there to see it all and not stop it. Just like she had been with her pops and not able to stop his murder.
Minutes later a whole mess of trucks carrying fighters descended on Sunrise Farm but one truck held two of the people she wasn't looking forward to answering to.
Marcus fought to curb his right foot and drive hard so as not to run the risk of ejecting Pastor Jerome who was manning the .50 cal mounted in the bed. Glancing right he could see his wife gripping her RPK with a white knuckle death grip as she scanned the road ahead for any sign of her boy.
They pulled into Sunrise Farms and dismounted. Instantly Grace approached them.
"Mr. Rook the cult took Roger and drove south." Grace said before anyone could speak.
Jessica Rook approached and put her hand on Grace's shoulder. "Grace calm down no one is blaming you. So you said that the peggies took Roger so he has to be alive right?"
Grace nodded silently in agreement.
Jerome spoke up. "If they have gone south then they are probably heading towards the Seed Ranch. That place is heavily guarded and even if we..."
Marcus cut the man off. "We won't be attacking Seed Ranch." he stated flatly.
"But Marcus what about..." Jessica tried to say but again she was cut off by her husband.
"Roger will be fine. Joseph clearly wants to convert the LEOs and hold them up as trophies to the cult to boost their morale and fanaticism and depress ours. As much as I want to strap up and attack the Seed Ranch we don't have the manpower, intelligence, or heavy ordinance needed. The moment we show up in force they will have all of their available air power scrambled and rain death on us before we get in range."
Marcus stopped his pacing that he honestly hadn't even realized he had been doing during his monologue.
"Given Roger's importance to Joseph himself he wouldn't let John kill him no matter how much the sick fucker wants to and if there is one thing that John has shown is that he is completely dedicated to his brother's cause. Roger will be taken to the bunker probably to allow the use of Joey against him and vice versa."
"That's a sick tactic if it works." Grace added.
Marcus focused on the younger sniper. "It's sick but its one of the few things that I think would break my boy. He and Joey may deny it up and down but they both still have extremely strong feelings or each other and against that I can't guarantee that either one of them would last forever against John's conversion."
There was a long pause at the thought of one or both of the deputies fighting for the cult. Hudson the smart and stubborn local fighter and Roger the big bore long range master. The damage both physical and psychological they could do would end the resistance in short order.
Jessica spoke up. "Ok so we can't hit the ranch. So we hit the convoy as it approaches the bunker then."
The pastor perked up at the idea. "I got a line on someone with a helicopter to pick up Roger and any other survivors."
Just then one of the resistance fighters approached. "Pastor! Just got word from Mary May the cult got Merle Briggs when he tried to grab his truck back."
Jerome sighed heavily with a clenched fists. "Damn it Merle. Now we got two lost pillars."
"Ok then its settled we go after the bunker convoy. Grace I'm going to take Rogers truck, I'm going to get us the explosives we will need if we are to pull this off right. Jessica if you would drive the pickup and the Pastor back to Fall's End and help set up the attack group. Grace go with her and rest up you'll be on the sharp end when we do this."
"Yes sir." Grace snapped off.
No one else argued and broke off to their given tasks. Once he was out of earshot Marcus set his radio to a special restricted frequency.
"Gray Reaper to Gray Scythe gather the Grays. I say again gather the Grays and meet at Kupka Ranch." he switched back to the resistance channel completely confident that his order would be carried out without fail.
He kept scanning the dark horizon for signs of cult activity if only to keep his mind mostly off of his sons current state. Still if things turned out how he expected he might get a single silver lining out of this.
Kupka Ranch was once a normal though small sized ranch but in the years since the death of the family heads and the abandonment of the property by their other children in light of the current resident the oldest Kupka, it had become a mass of cameras and barbed wire. Marcus for years had wondered what had happened to the boy to go from a decent kid to... whatever he was now. If anything before the cult showed up if anyone had asked him about local threats then Zip Kupka was number one even going so far as to even ban the man from his store after he tried bribing one of his men into selling some explosives under the table.
Marcus pulled up just as his team pulled up in their own convoy. He climbed out of the truck and released the retaining strap on his own 1911 it being a clone of what his son carried.
The Grays were a group of twelve men all like him and all of them even served along side him at one point or another in both of his careers hence why he hired and trained them to work for his company, only one choose to not take up the offered job but he had his own reasons for that. The whole team was all armed with various big bore AR's with all the fancy fixings from optics and grips to top of the line suppressors.
"We are here for one thing and we can't leave without it. That said if we can get a second bird then all the better." Marcus told them as he walked through the open gate toward the bondfire being lit by the last Kupka.
Zip was of average height and build but that was all that was average about him. His long wavy hair was a mess all the time and he wore a torn and ragged army uniform that was so small that he couldn't hope to button it shut thus he walked around baring his chest all the time. In all the man was a hair breath away from being mistaken as a peggie if looks were the only factor.
The cultists that were having their bodies burned at the moment however showed that he wasn't a friend of the cult.
"Zip. It's Marcus Rook. I need to speak with you." Marcus called out.
Zip slowly turned around pointing the flamethrower at Marcus and closed the distance.
"The government drones are finally here. Didn't think the mind controlling cult was the only active chess piece! No, I know what you are here for! You are here to silence the lone source of truth and justice left in the county so you can go back to planting chips into our food supply and pouring penis shrinking chemicals in our water so men will be forced buy the antidote and further fund your globalist schemes!" Zip spat out gesturing wildly with his free hand.
Marcus was quickly burning through his patience but held on to it for everything he was worth.
"Zip please listen. The cult if you haven't noticed is attacking people, innocent people. I know we have had a rough past but if you want to serve truth and justice then we need your help and your resources to save these people. Please my son's life is on the line." Marcus pleaded.
The look on Zips face changed from crazed delight to a much more sad almost pitying look.
"Mr. Rook... I am shocked... truly... very very shocked. Your son died a long time ago. The thing you call your son is just another government combat cyborg, human flesh grafted onto a endoskeleton made from the same material as the Roswell UFO. That is why he was always so big! Even the government can't shove enough processing power to mimic a human soul into a normal human sized chassis! It goes to show that even drones like you know noth..."
Zip never finished that last sentence as Marcus quick drew his side arm and put a single .45 cal round into the mad mans head.
"Chill out Dickwad." Marcus said to the dead body as he bent down and relieved Zip of his large key ring.
"Ok lets get what we came for."
Opening the barn was like opening the now late Zip Kupka's very soul. Stacks of paper and filing cabinets dominated the walls and where they didn't hung cork boards with numerous pinned newspaper articles complete with dozens of colors of strings connecting people, places, and things together in ways only Zip's broken mind could begin to piece together. The real terrifying things though laid at the back of the barn.
Massive industrial vats of chemicals connected to other machines which all led down to various casting machines. Beside these casting machines where sat literal pallets worth of red plastic looking blocks, some off white blocks, and pale yellow blocks.
"Casey... tell me I am not seeing what I think I am seeing." Marcus asked.
One of the Gray's was Casey Fixman the long time cook at the Spread Eagle.
"Boss... this is real and it gets worse." He said as he held up a sheet of paper.
"Its a target list. First target is Jerome's church because it provides a roost for the foreign cyber birds to rest and recharge from the music they play. Then after that the Spread Eagle for being a dead drop location for globalist messages hidden in the beer bottles, your gun shop for arming the local combat cyborg and not supplying true 'Freedom Fighters', and... the list just goes on. Even the pet shop is on here." Casey continued.
"Sir! We got a lot more finished explosives under the barn and more chemicals for making more." One of the other Gray's called out.
Marcus sighed feeling a lot better about just killing the madman. They had already seen what over tolerating one mad man got them and they didn't need two to deal with.
"Ok we got enough RDX, C4, and TNT to crack the planet in two so lets grab what we need and get it on my rig. Let's move!" Marcus ordered.