Far Cry 5: The Collapse
Chapter 32: The Wolf and The Cook
Joey couldn't stop smiling as she saw her partner cutting a intimating image of an armored juggernaut complete with massive rifle as he walked towards her. When he got with in a few paces she spoke.
"Roger! Thank God you're here, I'm damn near empty on everything. If you can spare me some shells maybe we can hunt down those peggies on the mountain Foley was tal..." She had turned and gestured toward Mt. Haskell just as Foley yelled over the radio and events quickly moved forward. "SNIPER! NORTH!"
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In the St. Isidore gym Foley, Ramirez, and Martin gathered around the laptop watching the Oracle feed as they flipped through various filters and modes to find the lost cultists. They had found the vehicles easily on thermal but given their distance it screamed dismounted troops and the area between the trucks and the mill was full of thick pine trees making finding and positively identifying human figures much harder.
The fact that they were searching in a relatively large area combined with the naturally lower resolution of the thermal modes meant that a human walking at the right angle would look like a just a blob of white or black and the afternoon sun meant there was even less difference between the warm ground and a comparatively slightly warmer human.
There was no banter or joking between the three soldiers as each tried to spot some sign of humanity amongst the animals. Finally on another pass with the thermal mode got them something.
"Got a leg... yeah that's a guy on his belly. He just shifted." Ramirez stated as he began narrowing the satellites field of view to get a better resolution.
"I count nine guys which makes sense for the three trucks." Martin counted as Ramirez switched to purely visual.
"I got a redhead at those rocks twenty feet south. He is..." Foley trailed off as he tried to make out if the man was armed or not. The man shifted for a moment giving to the perspective of the satellite a side view of what he was holding in his hands.
"SNIPER! NORTH!" The Captain called out as he could now see the dust cloud kicked up by the rifle moments before all hell broke loose.
.
Roger had managed to mentally capture the moment where at the edge of right eyes vision he saw the impact of the round that hit Joey's upper chest just as the edge of his left eyes vision saw the muzzle flash and dust cloud of either a big bore rifle or a compensated small bore.
Joey screamed as she fell and Mack had started hosing the rocks and trees around the area that the muzzle flash was seen. He was still a few paces away from where Joey had fallen and started crab walking toward her as he brought up Longinus to address the other sniper.
It surprised everyone who asked but not once in the time he had developed and tested the 30 millimeter anti-tank rifle had he even considered firing the monster from anything but either a fixed mount or tripod or fully prone and supported. As big as he was before the Bliss he didn't dare risk trying something as stupid as shoulder firing a cannon lest he take off his shoulder.
But with Joey screaming in pain and the roar of the quad 23 millimeter cannons of the Shilka his muscle memory took over regardless of what weapon he had, normally doing this with his HCAR or even the Barrett wouldn't have fazed him but right now all he had in his hands was Longinus.
He could see even through the cannon impacts the boulder the sniper had ducked behind and he placed the rock square within the rifle's sights and let whoever just shot his partner turn girlfriend know of his opinion on the matter.
The recoil shoved him far less than he expected, like firing a 6.5 mill cartridge out of a full size rifle. This lead to him quickly sending another round down range as a ten foot spear of fire tried to follow after it. Another step and another round fired, he could see the rock crack and crumble under his direct fire as Mack finally stopped to either let his guns cool, to see if he had hit anything, or worse case he was out of ammo.
He reached Joey who was moaning loudly in pain as he ignored her cries and grabbed the recovery handle that was standard in the armor carriers his father designed and drug her quickly behind the closest peggie flatbed truck that would cover them.
"Sniper is still active in the rocks to the north." Foley called out and Mack responded by adjusting his aim and reading himself to shoot at the next time he could actually see the sniper.
"All I see is rocks and some trees, unless we can draw him out I can only suppress him." The teenaged gunner said as he swept his gaze over the rocks again.
Roger prioritized and ignored the two men as if the sniper peeked his head up the Shilka would at least keep him busy. Joey now was clawing desperately at the clip that held her chest armor on which he reached for her, making her gasp for breath as the chest piece was pulled off.
"Oh fucking motherfucker... this hurts." She gasped out as she reach to undo her uniform buttons.
He casually pushed aside her hand and snapped. "Stay still and let me see the damage damn it. You're not covered in blood and you are still able to swear so I think you are going to live but I got to see what the hell happened."
Another moment and with her shirt open and her under shirt pulled up to under her arm pits he could see the damage. A darkening bruise the size of a child's fist was forming about three inches down the center line from the top of her rib cage, if it had been much higher then it might have taken her jugular and killed her instantly.
He pressed lightly around the bruise slowly with a single finger before reaching the bruise proper.
"FUCK ME! What the fuck Roger?!" Joey cried painfully.
"Feels like your breastbone is still in one piece and you aren't coughing up blood or rattling as you breathe." He rattled off automatically as he pulled her shirt down to preserve some form of decency for her. Reaching for the chest plate he could see the massive bulge in the back of the chest trauma plate and the large brass colored slug that was trapped in the front of the plate and the Kevlar carrier.
He pulled it out and held it up for Joey to see. "Honey you just ate a 800 grain Leigh Defense Solid... if I am correct... .50 BMG and survived with minimal injury. People think I'm tough." He ended with a brief chuckle as he dealt with the relief that he didn't just see his girlfriend die just now.
He set the slug on Joey's stomach as he took Longinus back in hand. "Now that you have pulled more than your weight today, allow me to try and do the same."
"Eagle Lead. I need as exact position as you can give me on the other sniper along with any other details you see." Roger over the radio said as he rested the rifle on the back of the flatbed truck he had used for his and Joey's cover. "Mack I need you to hold fire for now. If the fucker or his friends come out into the open you are free to engage otherwise let me hunt the sniper in the rocks. Copy?"
Mack answered promptly. "I copy holding fire. Is Hudson ok?"
"I'm not dead yet. I'm getting better... I'll think I'll go out for a walk." Joey chimed in from her place on the ground. The reference bringing a bit of desperately needed light hearted humor to the situation.
"Black Reaper, target is a redheaded Caucasian using what appears to be a bolt action rifle but its a bit odd looking. Ramirez thinks it could be a bullpup. Target is on the eastern half of the rock line south of the treeline to your north." Foley informed him from his place in the sky.
'Redheaded white guy with a .50 cal bullpup bolt action.' He thought to himself as he waited for the other sniper to make his move.
Suddenly the memory of one of the paintings back at the Seed ranch came to him. Jacob with his Desert Tech HTI.
He smiled as he reached for his radio. 'Well now time to test the theory.'
"Jacob is that really you in the rocks? I do hope so, after all it would be such a nice change after the rudeness shown by John and Rachel after making me come to their bunkers in order to speak with them." He taunted carefully.
"So you managed to ID me. Got to admit that's rather impressive without a scope on... whatever the hell that rifle is. As for you Deputy Rook I'm glad you're finally here." Came the gravely reply from the eldest Seed. He continued on calmly as if everything that had just happened hadn't just been a massive pitched battle that included him dodging heavy cannon fire.
"Something that has bothered me greatly is even here in the rough country of the Rocky Mountains instead of finding a bountiful supply of strong people... I am only finding it seems the weak or at best the mediocre. Of course I can't say that my own herd wasn't also apparently in need of a culling of the weak."
"You can cut the tough guy act Jacob. Everything I have heard, read, and found about you points to you still being a solider at heart and generally having your shit straight and narrow by the regs, but that was before today. Today you clearly lost your grip on your people and instead of some carefully executed combined arms defense from land and air like I had come to expect I found that your bunch of so called badasses are terrified of 'The Demoness'. Why else would they blindly rush damn near everyone here to the mill?" Roger shot back feeling over the radio just how deep his remarks had cut.
"In the end they were ultimately meat, food for the strong. Even with as many as I have lost today I am ultimately stronger for it just like the rest of the cult was meat for you." Jacob said almost pridefully it sounded. Jacob's comment was something that he wasn't expecting, after all pretty much admitting that the rest of the cult was useless wasn't exactly in line with the dogma he had to endure until now.
"I... can see how that might be the case and if so I must say for 'grass and grain fed meat' its some of the lowest quality meat I have ever had to endure, hell makes the shit I had to eat in the Khyber Pass seem gourmet. Still I must say I'm surprised by your admission of just how weak the cult has thus far proven to be... it's rather refreshing."
Joey slowly sat up and eyed Roger in confusion. Just what the hell was he doing with Jacob talking to him like he was some old friend.
The Sheriff and what was left of his forces pulled up and formed a defensive line facing the mountain. "Rook just what the hell are you doing?" He asked as he took cover behind the engine of his own truck.
"Learning about my enemy, now with all due respect if you don't mind sir I'm not usually good at this sort of thing and I need to focus." He said as Jacob finally responded.
"So I guess what Pratt said was true after all. You are a soldier. I guess sending my hunters after you wouldn't do any good then. It's always a bit jarring to find the strong in a world that is so weak..."
"Don't forget a world that demands mediocrity over merit." He added to Jacob's audible amusement.
"Yes. Yes you actually understand even if its from a different point of view. The world is weak, soft, and most damningly as forgotten what it means to be strong... and when they get a glimpse of the strong they do everything possible to stop it. Instead of following the wisdom of their forefathers that held up the strong as heroes... as Gods! Now they hold up the weak and diseased as examples to follow from 800 pound fat asses that claim to be proud of their bodies to the mentally ill held up by their parents and teachers for 'being so brave' in the face of their so called adversity."
He added grimly. "And the so called educated looking down at those that have instead manipulated the world in front of them with their own two hands. Bringing about their will and agenda through stone, steel, wood, and use of other more modern tools. Yeah I can honestly agree with you... the world is weak."
"So we have something to agree on, the question remains though how do we differ?" Jacob asked.
Roger felt like he was on a roll now and went with his gut. "I would say its the role of the weak. You cull them outright. Remove them from the picture... from the herd so as to make sure only the strong remain. I tend to only cull the worst and the most unforgivable then feed the rest into the ever turning gears of society and watch them be crushed by the machine and their entrails used to grease it's perpetual movement forward. I would say I have the more... efficient view. Getting that last vestige of use out of the masses to move mankind forward."
"I too can see that but it misses something else that society has forgotten. Sacrifice. More accurately the value of sacrifice to give up ones own needs for the many..." Jacob started before Roger harshly cut him off.
"Oh yes here comes the 'excuse' for first a socialist society which then turns into a communist society and finally evolves into an authoritarian society. Some nations may skip a step or two or step back sometimes but your reasons now sound just like the ones used by purple haired social justice warriors you can find throwing up in the street outside of any collage town bar. Instead of progress you want to stay back with the old ways and tools because after all that is how we survived this far." He let the words hang as he tried to keep his own anger in check. He was supposed to be finding and pressing Jacob's buttons not the other way around.
"But instead of building up a frame work to hold up humanity as it pulls itself up you hope for at best a pile of bodies with you on top. Correct?" He finished.
"Interesting. Very interesting... It's fleetingly rare to find not only a man with a spine but a brain as well and then a functioning brain at that." The cultist complemented.
"They laughed when as a child I said that the human mind is the deadliest weapon, now where are they?" He quipped.
The men shared a laugh and Roger could see a brief flash of the top of the other mans head which he aimed for. Now a silence settled as each man contemplated the next move.
Jacob spoke first. "You know in the end the Project was among other purposes was to cull the weak and make sure the strong survive 'The Collapse'. From the very beginning there was going to be a pile of bodies to rule from."
"Given my title if you come out quietly and surrender alongside your men then you can indeed survive 'The Collapse'. Come on Jacob, a soldier has to know the difference between dying for a pointless last stand and living on to tell his side of the war." He offered hoping that maybe they could nip the campaign against Jacob here and now by appealing to his pragmatism.
Nothing was said for a minute before Jacob popped out from behind a different rock than before and sent a quickly aimed round that went too far left and embedded itself in the deck of the cult flatbed. In turn he fired back in turn severely damaging the rock he had popped out from and making sure it wouldn't survive another similar shot.
"I'm sorry to say but I'm not going to go quietly. This is just another challenge..." Jacob said before he moved westward and fired off a round that sailed only just over the deputy's shoulder.
"I will either be meat or I will be made stronger. That is life at its core... its why we do anything... risk something of worth to be stronger. I will be the pack leader, the Alpha and I will kill you. Then maybe I too can 'drag up humanity' as you from a top that pile of bodies." He finished.
Jacob was moving west trying to get closer to where he originally approached the rock formation. In turn Roger sent another 30 millimeter slug smashing into the rock in front of him denying him reliable cover.
With one round in the chamber he dropped the drum and swapped in another one from his pack. In turn Jacob used this to try and get a shot back, but it was even for the experienced marksman a challenge to go from sprinting to dead still so he could pull off a shot that in calmer and less rushed conditions would have been child's play.
He lined up the other sniper as he loaded Goddamned light artillery shells in his rifle like it was nothing.
'Explains the rocks. I thought he might be using .50 cal explosive ammo.' He thought as once more he squeezed the trigger and watched the round impact the deputy in the chest. He was pushed back from the impact but quickly continued to slam the drum magazine home seemingly otherwise unbothered by the hunting rounds impact.
For the first time a thread of fear now found its way into Jacob's mind as he ducked and continued sprint while keeping as low as he could manage toward where his men were hopefully still waiting per their orders. He had watched a man shake off a cartridge load that had never failed to bag even the largest bears and now he was the one being hunted.
He skidded and laid mostly on his back hiding most of his body behind a rock that had already taken damage but seemed solid enough to buy him the seconds needed to make another admittedly awkward shot around the side of the rock. This time aiming for the other sniper's face only to feel the trigger do nothing as he had in his shock forgotten to work the bolt.
What was left of his rock then exploded sending painful rock shards and chips slicing across his face and worse still through his combat jacket and across his rash covered body forcing a pained grunt from him.
He managed to get up and sprint the last 30 or so yards running past his own men as more rocks exploded around him. Once he reached the treeline he kept moving without pause towards where their trucks were parked. "We have to fall back, we can't hope to do anything right now not with the Deputy being setup on his own terms." He ordered as his Chosen quickly started to get moving.
His men rushed after their leader not willing to argue his actions and in short order they piled back into their trucks but Jacob told the driver of his truck to not start the engine.
"They might have taken the mill but they won't get what they came for..." He said breathlessly as from another pocket he pulled out a small music box and began to slowly turn the winding handle on the side of the box.
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"Eagle Lead, track the vehicles the cult is leaving in I need to know where Jacob is setting up shop. If you see any thing else that looks like troop movement call it in." Roger ordered as he leaned against the truck he had used for cover.
He didn't feel physically tired but mentally he felt whipped in every sense of the word. Verbally sparing with Jacob felt like he gave up too much and got too little in return but honestly time would tell if he was right.
'This is why I let the Sheriff or Joey do the talking and I keep quiet and carry a big stick...' He thought as he glanced at Longinus. 'A really big stick.'
"Roger? Roger you ok?" The Sheriff asked making him realize that the man had been trying to get a reaction out of him since the shooting had stopped.
"Sorry sir... just... processing just what the hell happened. Jacob is radically different from Rachel or John or even Joseph. We are dealing someone who is closer to being like me then I'd like to admit save for the details as you heard. He's not afraid of 'Sacrifice' and I think in order to show his strength to the cult he will order with a straight face at this point more strikes against us even in the face overwhelming odds."
"Are we talking 'Battle of Berlin' levels of holding out?" Joey asked. She hadn't been able put her wrecked armor back on and was taking care to breathe carefully but the sight of her getting back on her feet and speaking clearly helped ease his fears of internal injury.
"I think so." He said as he looked back at the layers of dead peggies all over the yard. "He's lost a lot of his combat strength to say nothing of what he might have already lost before we marched. If he reacts like I might then he will draw back to as few strong points as possible and focus on holding them and the roads that connect them."
"Hmm. If that's the case then we need to get in touch with Eli and his people..." The Sheriff started to say when their radios went off once more to the sound of Jacob Seed.
"I'm man enough to admit that we have lost today... but don't think you have gain much today either." He said drawing confused looks from the gathered officers as the sound of something that sounded like a music box came across the radio.
The song it played was sent by every radio on every fighter in the Resistance. In the mills warehouse the men that had come with the Sheriff had managed to find the keys to the prisoners cages and virtually all of them had been released as the experienced fighters moved to triage the freed prisoners.
Most were in walking condition but at least 20 or 30 of their number were either too weak or two scared to move under their own power. It was from these prisoners that the song sparked life and a second wind.
The last prisoner, a young brunette hair woman dressed in a dark green hooded jacket that cast her face in shadow. Whose cage for some reason needed a separate key that hadn't been found yet started yelling the moment the first few notes came over the radios.
"OH FUCKING HELL! HE IS PLAYING HIS FUCKING SONG!" She yelled and before she could explain her warning the prisoners that before had been left for the medics to come and tend to got to their feet and started screaming like mad demons.
"TRAIN! HUNT! KILL!" They screamed as they threw themselves at either their rescuers or their fellow prisoners that hadn't succumb to Jacob's music box. The prisoners tried to resist their attackers but in their weakened state they found themselves having throats ripped out by clawing hands or the jaws of the possessed, others still found themselves being slammed repeatedly into the cages or in the case of one or two simply having their heads smashed by whatever odd rock that had found its way into the warehouse.
The fighters fared better, at first they tried to restrain the possessed, when that failed they used the butts of their rifles, and finally they had no other choice but to shoot.
By the time Roger, Joey, and the Sheriff made it to the warehouse the damage was done maybe half of their rescued prisoners had been killed. Others still were now badly injured only adding to the butchers bill.
The music box kept playing over the radio for another full minute before it slowly unwound and faded away.
"Well... now we know Eli wasn't kidding about that conditioning." Roger broke the silence as the fighters now started the on the new problem before them.
Joey turned to look at him if only to not have to look at the gore in front of her. "I thought all the... mental trigger by song or by word was... was all just fictional bullshit?"
Surprisingly it was Marcus's voice from behind them that answered. "Joey you would be surprised at what you can do to the human mind with enough time and influence. The US, the Russians, the Nazi's before them to name the notable players all have spent decades studying how to achieve this kind of effect with varying degrees of effectiveness. Jacob it looks like starves them out to get them to shed everything besides the basic will to survive, then after that the training starts. Some will break quick and others will hold out..." He trailed off as he looked at the lone occupied cage in the back.
"And some will be unbreakable. Best tip I can give is don't get captured after that... well who knows how one will react to this sort of thing until its forced upon them. Earl lets go meet up with Grace and Dmitri, they found something in the mill's office that might need a actual law enforcement response." The elder commando said as he led the way for the Sheriff to follow.
Not knowing what else to do Roger walked to the back of the warehouse, weaving a path around the fighters as they tended to their freshly injured. Finally getting past them he and Joey reached where the lone woman stood impatiently waiting to be freed.
She was short and lightly built and her clothing of blue jeans, a sweatshirt tied around her waist, and topped with a blue heavy flannel shirt under the green hooded jacket that was covered with various bits of graffiti it looked like, all pointed towards a woodsman with a rebellious streak. But it was the scars across her mostly shadowed face and the teal colored eyes that revealed exactly what the woman was at her core. A Huntress, driven and purposeful with none of the normal hang ups others of a more civilized bent would have.
"Jess Black I presume?" He asked he made eye contact with the other woman.
"Fuck me sideways Roger Rook is back and bigger than ever. Hey Hudson good to hear that you are still alive, last I had heard for sure John had grabbed you." Jess said half annoyed and half surprised.
Roger knelt to look at the lock and the frame of the cage door while Joey and Jess caught up.
"Roger managed to get me free and take down John. After that we moved on to Rachel." She said as she watched Jess smile a little at the news.
"Well Hudson it looks like everything I have heard over the last two or three weeks I have been cooped up in here, can't say for sure but it's true. You've been kicking ass. I knew you had more teeth than the rest of the Deputies combined but I never expected you to be a front woman for a war." The younger woman said as Roger started pulling at parts of the cage.
Joey smiled sheepishly. "Yeah well things have changed after the U.S. Marshal they sent pretty much doomed from the start any hopes of actually arresting Joseph, thus instead he helped kick off this war. I guess once the cult started moving you took to the woods?"
"Hell yeah. You can guess who I had a hard on for..." Jess hinted.
"Nash Asherson. The one that got away. Jess..." She started to say as she was interrupted by Roger ripping part of the door frame off and with it the lock.
"Whoever built the cage had shitty welding." He said with a smile as Jess in stead of gawking at him pushed past them and slowly started making her way to the warehouse entrance with a purpose.
"Hudson you've told me already why you and the Sheriff couldn't arrest him back then and frankly... I've come to even forgive you for it. I think Chief Jacob's must have had some hand in getting him off the hook of course..."
"No evidence. I haven't bothered to look with the war going on but Chief Jacob's dead and I'll bet if we dig in his office we can see what crimes he covered up for the cult." Joey said as she beckoned Roger to follow.
"That's nice Hudson but I'm going to go and kill Nash and be done with it. Hell right before I got caught I managed to find out from a peggie hunter I grabbed where Nash is setup now. Fucker even goes by the name 'The Cook' now." Jess paused as she waited for the protest that never came.
"You're not going to stop me?" She asked stopping in her tracks and looking back at them for the first with something besides her normal scowl.
"Jess, there is a war going on against the cult. You think I'm going to stop you? Hell let me restock on ammo and I'll join you." Her words caught the younger woman off guard.
Roger entered the conversation proper as he followed "Joey I already get the feeling that you are going regardless of what I suggest but just remember you did just take a .50 cal to the chest..."
"Damn you are a cast iron bitch." Jess quipped getting a smile from Joey.
"She's hard to kill, that said if you are going then I am going. Jess I don't know why you want this one peggie dead and I won't ask now, but I need something in return if you have it. I need to know where Eli Palmer is."
"Rook I don't know much about you but I do know you were pretty damn straight edged way back in school. If I let you come know that I'm going to kill 'The Cook', not stand back and let you arrest this guy." She said menacingly as she craned her head up to stare him down.
He stepped closer and bent down slightly to emphasize his greater height as he replied. "Jess use your fucking head. Do you really think I would stop you from killing any peggie save for Joseph? If you want proof of my kills take a road trip to Fall's End and witness the miles of dead cultists along the road. Then drive to the peak of and see my work there. Now if you don't mind the sooner we bag this peggie the sooner we can locate Eli and figure out what the next step in this campaign against Jacob Seed is."
Joey glanced between her partner and the huntress and wondered how she would break up the coming fight when Jess smiled. "Well now I guess you aren't the guy I remembered seeing all over the school news. 'Mr. Perfect'."
Roger returned the smile. "I question the title but yeah marching across the world with a rifle in hand changes you."
.
Once the three of them had recovered Jess's bow and arrows along with her beloved hunting knife from the office and informed the Sheriff and Marcus of their plans which only got them a short acknowledgment in return as they returned to whatever they were looking over at the pile of papers on top of the mill managers desk. One last stop to reload on ammo and hear the latest news from Grace and Dmitri as the two of them had been put in charge of further securing their most recent gains.
They too weren't sure why Marcus and the Sheriff had suddenly gotten quiet but it had something to do with Hurk Drubman Senior and the cult.
Roger held his tongue on the matter as frankly he wanted to stick with fighting the war rather than whatever pending drama Drubman would be bringing.
Loaded and in Joey's case rearmored with the heaviest armor they could borrow from another fighter the three of them started marching up the foot trail leading up as the sun began its final approach with the horizon.
It was long after they started when Foley radioed in. "Black Reaper this Eagle Lead. Be advised that the vehicles you asked us to track have been parked at some place we are told is the St. Francis Veteran's Center for the last hour or two since they arrived. I think its safe to say that is where Jacob is currently at."
"Copy thank you Eagle Lead. If you are still up for it we can use some additional support. We are currently hunting a cult VIP on just north of the mill." Roger replied as they continued to march up the trail with Jess in the lead.
"What fucking good is this 'Eagle Lead' guy supposed be? I know where we are going." Jess said gruffly.
"'Eagle Lead' is one of my Delta guys and he has his hands on a spy satellite watching over this area. He can call out anything we might run into ahead of time and make sure we are much harder to surprise, its not perfect mind you but its something the cult doesn't have." He replied easily not rising to her attitude.
She was quiet for a moment before sighing. "Fine. We are heading towards the old white granite quarry."
Nodding in thanks though Jess had turned her head back forward without acknowledging it. "Eagle Lead do you copy?"
Foley's voice returned on the radio. "Eagle Lead copies. We just got off the horn with Black Cardinal and Black Pope. They want to talk to you and Grey Reaper but it looks like they are seriously considering about taking us off the leash after the stunt you and the Resistance pulled today."
"Well we had better get something for our trouble. We lost way too many people today for me to just accept a thank you and a pat on the back. Getting back to our current mission we are heading towards a old quarry tucked up near one the lower peaks around Haskell..." He started to say when Foley cut him off.
"We copy and have you on thermal, be advised you are very close to a potential cult encampment less than 300 feet ahead. Looks like four tangos with rifles, two dogs or wolves with handlers armed with some sort of melee weapon. Got maybe a dozen people in cages and three more out in the open being beaten by another tango. I suggest you attack quietly if possible."
Jess scoffed. "Attack quietly? No shit Sherlock."
"Black Reaper copies. We will deal with it, just keep us posted if someone else comes knocking." He finished as he slung Longinus on his back to switch to his HCAR.
The three of them now slowed their pace as they closed on the small encampment that laid in a dip of the wooded trail giving them a slight high ground advantage. The camp had three roaring bond fires with their light pushing back the on coming darkness of night and giving them a clear enough view of what the cult was doing here.
The prisoners were as Foley had said in steel animal cages with three of them on their knees being beaten savagely by a Chosen who by his yelling was truly pissed off at his trio of victims. The wolves and their handlers currently were entertaining themselves by letting their wolves claw and growl at those trapped in the cages, meanwhile the rank and file cultists watched with occasional glances to the surrounding area as with the coming darkness came the base fear of what lie in the dark.
"Jess and Joey. You two focus on the outer patrol, I will deal with the wolf handlers and their wolves when they get away from the cages so I don't hit the civilians. After that I'll deal with the Chosen. Agreed?" He stated as he took a knee and raised his rifle.
Jess only offered a grunt while Joey gave him a happier sounding 'Yes.' His opinion of Jess Black was frankly beginning to wan but she was still useful to him so long as she held up her end of their agreement, so he tolerated her attitude and decided giving her a bone might make their lives easier.
Targets given they waited on Jess to open with a well placed arrow to a patrolling guardsmen's throat his gurgling cry not being enough to draw anyone's attention. That honor would go to Joey taking down a another pair of guards walking beside each other, this time both men would let out a cry of pain as their chests suddenly were occupied by a trio of .50 cal Beowulf rounds.
"What the hell is you people's problem? I swear if any of you are still trying to run off to fight the Demoness still I will catch you, tie you up, and then offer you up to the Cook!" The Chosen yelled as he whipped his head around looking for whomever yelled.
His mood that night had already been sour enough with a number of what he dubbed deserters racing blindly to the mill to kill the Demoness and now the latest batch of prisoners were getting uppity since with the attack on the mill bulk of the men that normally would have taken them all on the last leg of the trail to the Cook had also deserted their duty. Now they were left with taking smaller groups less frequently up to be purified. It gave the prisoners more time to think and talk back. Sooner or later that would lead to plotting be it escape or killing the remaining faithful outright.
He had reestablished command over these weak excuses for soldiers from John's region and put them to work on keeping a solid perimeter to keep them from just idling and thinking too much about what was going on less than a mile away at the mill. Even then they cried randomly and sniveled constantly he found as if just a breeze would break their minds or make them think the sinners had come for them at last.
The wolf handlers were now making their way over to the edge of the camp just barely within the lit radius of one of the fires where he could now only just make out the black clad outline of the guards... on the ground.
"Stay put sinner!" He said giving one last kick to one of his prisoners and rushed over to the two animal handlers. One of the men turned to face him as he closed.
"Sir! They have been sh..." The man had started to say just as a .30 caliber round raced through the back of his neck and out his throat resulting in a brief moment of shocked gurgling. His canine partner raced to nuzzle him and whined loudly at the sight of the mans death as the second handler now fell as well.
The other man's head simply disappeared from the impact. The Chosen ducked and ran away from the scene as fast as he could with the sound of the wolves whimpering being harshly cut short behind him.
'Someone is shooting at us from probably the southern approach to the camp. I just got to get myself behind the prisoners and then find the fucker...' The elite cultist started to plan until massive bolt of pain raced up from his left knee.
As he fell to the ground he could see the shaft of a arrow sticking out from the back of his knee before another rifle round ended him.
.
Jess chuckled to herself as the trio of fighters moved up into the cleared out encampment. "I used to be cultist motherfucker until I took an fucking arrow to the knee."
It was hard for Roger to not laugh out loud at the reference but seeing the beaten and bloodied forms of the cults prisoners was enough to limit himself to a brief smile.
"Good shot Jess. I'll call this in and get some support up here, Joey if you and Jess can get the prisoners free please do so." He stated as he reached for his radio.
Joey nodded and waved for Jess to follow as they headed for the three tied up prisoners first.
"You know Hudson, I think your boyfriend there is still a bit bossy." The younger woman grumbled as they reached the prisoners.
Joey didn't answer for a moment as they both cut free the beaten and bloodied prisoners the best condition of them latching on to Jess's arm in a sudden burst of desperation.
"Please you have to hurry! They hauled off my sister and her husband maybe twenty minutes ago to the Cook's camp. They... they might still be alive! Please... I already saw my mother and little brother get fed to the others..." Anything else was nothing short of unintelligible as he broke down in tears. One of the other prisoners beside him spoke up to explain.
"We... we weren't... desperate enough to eat the 'meat' they offered us and one of the chunks had part of a tattoo his brother had still visible. The Chosen didn't like us turning down his offering and thus here we are. Please. Please God, you have to stop this Deputy."
Jess was quiet for a moment but with each second that passed her breathing started to race erratically. She jerked her arm away from the man and started sprinting in the direction of the quarry.
"Jess! Wait!" She tried to call out before she started jogging after her. She was able to spare a moment to tell the three men to free the others as she saw Roger starting to move to catch up to her.
"Roger, we need to get moving after Jess! They got more prisoners they are probably about to kill soon." She said as she too broke into a full sprint.
As much of a lead as Jess had on both of them and a fraction of the load out it took next to nothing for the two Bliss enhanced deputies to catch up with her.
"Jess what the hell is going on and why are we rushing like this? I thought you favored the quiet approach?" He asked as he slowed to a easy jog even as Jess was still running full tilt.
"We have to stop the Cook! He's doing his name sake M.O. and feeding people to the other prisoners, that fucker has been doing this for too long and its ending tonight!" She huffed.
Even in all the years he had crawled the worst places humanity had ever managed to create this was rare and special kind of evil that few willingly take part in.
"You mean the Cook isn't just a normal pyromaniac but a cannibalistic pyromaniac? Well shit that explains a few things..." He finally said.
The Huntress snapped a short laugh off. "Yeah being starved and fed your parents will kinda ruin your attitude, worse still is that he's been a free man since then while I have been trying to not throw away everything I managed to rebuild and just kill the fucker."
"Well congratulations you get to settle accounts with this bastard and even have local law enforcement assist you." He ended as the three of them focused on racing through the brush toward the quarry.
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"Black Reaper be advised you are looking at five tangos one of which is armed with a flamethrower, from what we can tell everyone else must be armed with sidearms because we see no long arms on them." Foley sounded off from the school.
"Prisoners?" He inquired.
The Captain hesitated for a few moments more before answering. "Lots. At least two or three dozen in big animal cages... wait." The pause caused him to feel his heartbeat start racing as he felt he already knew what was coming. "They are dragging a prisoner out of one of the cages now and looks like they are taking her to a central post, you three need to double time it right about now if you are going to save her."
They slowed only as foot path narrowed and grew steeper right before it opened out to the well lit area that made up the quarry proper. The quarry was a tiny operation and had operated virtually by hand. As teenager Roger could remember the eco-friendly nutter that managed to get a mining permit so he could take advantage of the small vein of almost pure white granite here to make non-plastic alternative products of various kinds as he had claimed.
But like many such attempts of Eco-friendly alternatives practicality and economics doomed the mans efforts from the start. Getting local labor was next to impossible, especially once word of his tendency to not pay on time got loose. Those he brought in from California found life in the rural mountains of Montana to be far less forgiving than they were originally told/prepared for thus after one year and bankrupting the man, he simply walked away from everything leaving tools, buildings, trash, and small but permanent scars in this part of Mt. Haskell.
It was no surprise to see the cult roll in and set up shop here and in true cult fashion they had turned everything they touched into some uniquely new level of hell. Charred bodies hung like butchered pigs on meat hooks from various cables strung between some of the lamp posts many with hunks of flesh missing, all clearly been removed by careful knife work rather than the teeth of animals.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Haven't seen anything this bad in a while." He said as he went prone on the trail followed by bringing his rifle up.
Compared to the earlier camp this going to be easy. The Cook was standing maybe twenty or so feet front of a scorched black concrete pillar flanked by two of his men who were openly laughing and joking with each other. In between protests of some of the prisoners in the nearby cages he could hear the men joke about how much dark meat verses light meat their next victim would have.
Behind the two cultists drug a woman who was protesting loudly and thrashing fruitlessly against her captors as they tightly chained each of her limbs to eyelets on the back of the post.
Surprisingly it was a distinctly Australian accent that came from the Cook as he with great joy and enthusiasm shouted orders to his men handling the next sacrifice. "Alright! Lets take the wrapper off the bird before we light the barbie!"
The word given the men with the prisoner started cutting and tearing her clothes off with practiced hands.
He turned to Joey and and Jess. "Ok we are running out of time. Joey you take the two fuckers beside the Cook and I'll drill the guys at the post. Jess you get close and put a arrow in this Cook fucker and end this. Wait for Joey and I's shots before going and Jess?" He added with a bit of an edge.
"Yeah Rook?" She grumbled back.
He continued keeping the serious tone with the younger woman. "I'm giving you this chance to settle with this guy but if you choke or fuck it up I will end him before he can hurt anyone else. So don't bother coming back and bitching at me if it comes to that, are we clear?"
Jess offered a rare and odd looking smile that only looked stranger by how her facial scars flexed and pulled in slightly odd ways. "Well you do have some balls after all Roger. I won't fuck up but thanks for doing this."
That said Jess ducked low and closed on the flame trooper and his friends. As he and Joey took their aim at their respective targets.
"Ok Roger now that you barked at Jess about not fucking up lets do the same." Joey said confidently.
He shot back gently. "Am I being too hard Joey?"
Joey only shook her head. "Jess is a bit of a basket case. Problem child force to grow up quick that got better with tough love and then suddenly had what little she had finally built ruined by the cult. She's... thorny but before her family was murdered she was actually making efforts to integrate into the community, hell she even started showing up for church and the social functions."
He scoffed for a second. "Seriously?"
"Sunday best and all. Baked good quality chocolate chip cookies for last Christmas for the children's pageant after party. She's not bad person at the core but life's been hard on her." She finished just as Jess closed on a palletized tank of Bliss that laid not far from where the Cook stood.
'Showtime.' He thought as he took aim at the first pair of men as they finished their task and stood back from the victim.
.
"First! We marinate the bird with Everclear!" The Cook shouted as he started hosing down the nude woman with the in truth napalm mixture as she screamed in terror knowing all too well what was coming. From the cages the other prisoners pleaded, some yelled profanities, and vows of vengeance, some just screamed in terror knowing that sooner or later it would be them attached to that very same post.
"LET THIS BE A REMINDER FOR ALL OF YOU SINNERS!" The Cook said turning towards the cages. "YOU ARE WEAK! YOU ARE USELESS! YOU! ARE! MEAT!" He decreed.
.
Jess had only reached the Bliss tank in time to not be seen by the Cook when he turned, and leaned heavily against the tank her heart pounding in ears almost loud enough to drown out the screaming around her. She forced herself to peer over the tank and saw that same black leather mask wearing, oily black haired son of a bitch that had made up the bulk of her nightmares since that fateful week.
She was about to pull back on the arrow that she had notched when she then instead pulled back the hood of her coat. She since she had gotten her scars across her face from escaping from the Cook she had much to her disgust hated having her face not at least somewhat hidden. She didn't see them as a badge of honor for doing something stupid or cool, but a constant reminder that someone got one up on her. If it were something truly petty she would have eventually let it go and move on, but this was something she couldn't drop and until it was resolved the scars were a open ended question that she wanted to avoid being asked about.
She saw the farthest two guards drop to the ground as the Cook spoke and suddenly the heads and chests of the two men in front of him exploded in a red misty explosion as a burst of suppressed .50 caliber rounds tore through them.
The Cook spun around and saw his other men on the ground, which only made him shift focus to woods and surrounding cliffs that laid beyond the lit quarry.
"WHO'S OUT THERE?! WHO DARES FACE THE FATHER'S FAITHFUL?!" He shouted.
The prisoners had grown quiet save for the occasional sob from the moment that the last of the guards had been killed. Now only the sound that could be heard was the echos of the nighttime wildlife upon the rocks.
She steeled herself one last time, drew back fully on her bow, and stood up from behind her cover.
"I told you I would make you pay for my family. Nash." She said drawing his attention.
Even behind the mask the Cook was shocked at hearing his given name let alone from the one victim to get away. "Jess Black. By the grace of The Father..." He started to say before she loosed her arrow and he felt a heavy four bladed broadhead arrow violently lodge itself in his throat.
The Cook dropped his flamethrower wand before he fell to his knees all the while clutching his throat, blood seeping rapidly from between his fingers. All the while he couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman slowly walking out from behind her cover.
She stopped just outside of arms reach and quietly watched him finish bleeding out just as one would watch a camp fire go out.
When his body fell forward now fully dead Jess too fell to her knees suddenly feeling a myriad of feelings. Relief that in the end her parents murder was dead, joy that Nash knew in the end who ended him, and strange mix of sadness and emptiness as she now for the first time in nearly three years had the prospect of filling the many holes in her life with something besides revenge.
From behind her Joey could be heard walking up as Roger jogged ahead to the woman on post. All of sudden she could hear the cries of the other prisoners and the sounds of wildlife around them, as if someone had unmuted a TV.
"Jess you ok?" The Deputy asked.
"Yeah... more or less. Thanks Hudson." She replied as she got up off of her knees and pulled her hood back on though now not as far forward as she normally would have.
Joey had bent down and seized the large key ring off of Nash before marching off to the cages to free the prisoners.
.
It was getting late and the moon had fully risen by the time that they had gotten a pair of Resistance helicopters flown in to carry the prisoners down from the quarry to the lumber mill where more vehicles would carry the slightly and moderately injured to the Jail while the worst and most critical were taken to the Clinic.
Finally the three of them loaded up on to the last chopper to leave the area.
"Where to Deputy?" The pilot asked.
Roger looked at Jess. "Ok Jess where can we find Eli?"
"At the 'Wolf's Den'. They built a bunker into a old failed prospecting mine dead east of the Whitetail Park Visitors Center about a mile or so from it. There's even a helipad built outside but the trees are thick enough that unless you are looking for it you will miss it." The Huntress said tiredly.
He could share in the woman's exhaustion but he couldn't help but shake the need to make contact sooner rather than later with the last remaining known Resistance force in this region. They had to get a grip on supplies, ground held, known positions of enemy forces, and a million other little details needed to push forward the campaign against the cult.
"Ok then, is that enough for you to go on pilot?" He asked.
"Yes sir I think I can find it and if I may suggest the Sheriff and Marcus are at the lumber mill right now. If you are going to meet up with the Whitetails maybe we can swing by and pick them up." He added and Joey replied. "Then lets go grab them. This is important enough of a meeting that we'll need their input on this."
The chopper once more took off leaving the hellish quarry behind. A few short minutes later they had landed at the lumber mill that by now had been fully fortified by the Resistance and the bodies of the cultists now decorated the roads leading to the mill and down toward Borodin's Marina and Drubman Marina.
Jess whistled softly. "Jesus fucking Christ! Your people work fast."
Roger had to smile. "Yeah everyone pretty much has a routine when it comes to taking ground from the cult. I know my father and the Sheriff have found and trained the right people to take charge for certain tasks so things run smooth and leave them to deal with the fighting and what politics are bound to show up."
It was then the side door of the chopper opened and Mack followed by Marcus piled in, in the copilot's seat the Sheriff hopped in. Loaded they rose once more heading west.
"Roger I got Black Cardinal and Pope to hold off on speaking with us until tomorrow morning given how fluid things are at the moment, we also have a particularly dangerous animal issue that is serious enough that I want to bring you in with your 'squirrel' gun, hopefully that will be enough to deal with it otherwise I have to figure out how to get the Shilka close enough to deal with the animal." Marcus said as he turned to Joey. "Joey how are you doing? I found your armor and the hit it took."
"I am fine. At worst I am tender and certain movements hurt a little but nothing serious." She replied.
"Well I'm going to up your plate thickness but only once I take a look at the hit you took." He said pointing back at Rodger.
He shrugged. "I think I fared better Dad..."
"I should hope so since you have another quarter inch of plate thickness but I want to see if there was any deformation of the plate in case I have to up yours as well. So once we get to some place safe and roomy enough for you strip down I need to see what happened. Have you even checked for bruising?" The elder Rook pressed on.
He hadn't checked but it wasn't like he felt much if any pain even at the time of impact. He really should have checked sooner but his priorities in the last few hours were skewed a bit. As for waiting, it only highlighted that he was crammed into the chopper and of course had to take down Longinus to fit. Joey certainly was realizing that she was about seven inches taller than what the designers at Bell helicopter had designed for.
"No, Dad I haven't. I'll check when we are done with this meet and greet. Changing subjects how many did we loose today?" He asked grimly.
"30 men dead, 10 wounded severely enough that they might not be able to rejoin the fighting for weeks if it comes to that and another 20 with mild to moderate injuries. We outright lost five gun trucks and have far more that will need some time to repair and refit before we push them into service again." The Sheriff spoke up from the co-pilots seat.
The news stung. It meant that this last push was the most damaging event to the Resistance since the start of the war, but even then given what they knew about the cult at the time their plan couldn't have changed much now that he thought about it.
'Of course give me a year or two maybe even five and I'll bet that I'll find something we could have done differently.' He thought darkly.
Mack then spoke up. "For what it's worth none of the Cougars died but a few will be out for a week or two and everyone including me have picked up some new shrapnel scars and I got like two or three burns on my face from hot casings from that... what did you call that tank with the cannons Mr. Rook?"
"A ZSU-23-4 'Shilka'." Came the answer and Mack continued.
"Yeah I only felt one but I somehow picked up two more that I didn't notice until the medics showed up." The younger man finished brightly.
Roger couldn't help but smile at the young mans attitude to getting injuries that most people his age would be horribly shaken by. "Well Mack let me speak from the experience as someone who has had his face messed up by swords, steak knives, and God knows how much concrete rubble. Chicks do in fact dig scars so long as they don't harm your day to day function. They show that you at one point either had the toughness to survive a bad situation or the balls to get yourself involved and do something with your life. In this case save your home from a genocidal doomsday cult."
"I'll remember that the next time we have a school Prom." The teenager chuckled.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I see a hole in the trees about where Miss Black said to look. It's probably that helipad so we will be landing in a minute or two." The pilot chimed in.
.
Landing on the helipad didn't draw any attention from the now visible bunker door set into the rocks which concerned Roger somewhat.
Jess stepped forward. "Well here it is, now to see if we can get their attention. Eli built this bunker to be simple and strong so he didn't put in any outside facing electronics like cameras or even a doorbell."
She walked up to the door and picked up a nearby rock about the size of a softball and started slamming it into the steel bunker door.
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR TAMMY! ITS JESS BLACK AND COMPANY!" Jess belted out instinctively making Roger and Marcus to start scanning the surrounding area and the pilot inched closer to his chopper in case they had to suddenly start getting out of here.
Finally the sound of grinding metal and grunting could be heard as a pair of men, one a tall thinly built man with longish black hair and matching large and thick beard and a much younger man probably around Macks age or maybe a bit less with a pair of distinct long braided pigtails pushed open the door with considerable difficulty. From behind them a heavy set woman came up from behind them with a tiny nickle plated pistol raised.
"Jess... its been nearly three weeks. Last we heard you were one of Jacob's prisoners, now you expect to come crawling back. Do you really think we will take that risk?" The woman snarled as the older man sigh heavily.
"Damn it Tammy not this shit again." The older man said as he looked at the gathered fighters.
"Sheriff. Marcus." He said nodding to both men. "I have to say its been awhile since I was glad to see the authorities. We have had a hell of a time fighting Jacob." Eli said wearily.
"So we have heard from Dutch. If you have any wounded or folks with medical needs we can help haul them to the county clinic in the chopper since its here..." The Sheriff started when Tammy interrupted with her tiny pistol still raised.
"We don't need your help! Our wounded just need time to rest and heal. You're just trying to deplete our numbers further to make taking over all the easier." She went on.
It was the younger man who spoke up. "Tammy... we're at the end of our rope. We can't just wait here for things to blow over and we don't have the numbers to fight..."
"Wheaty, shut up and go back inside." Tammy growled.
The mounting tension was reaching its peak when Roger finally spoke up. "Before I assume we leave I just wanted to know if that is a Colt 1908 Vest Pocket or FN M1905? If its the latter could we arrange a price for it and talk about when we can do the transaction?" He pointed at Tammy as he slung his HCAR around his shoulder and stepped toward Tammy.
Tammy was utterly confused at what seemed like a jumble of words to her which she could piece together was related to the gun in her hand. She turned the gun off of the group to look at it in the dim light coming from within the bunker in a simple attempt to figure out what the giant was asking about before said giant was suddenly upon her.
Roger firmly grabbed her right wrist with the gun still in hand and hoisted it over head and lifted the slightly overweight housewife with relatively little strain on him. Tammy was wide eyed in shock as she was then disarmed and he casually held the pocket pistol up to the moonlight so it caught the engravings on the slide.
"Hot damn it is a M1905! A late model at that and..." he turned the pistol to the other side and found another marking that made him smile further. "Crossed Mosins."
"Late Russian contract, post 1909 production if I remember right. You've been looking for that one for a while." Marcus added.
He looked down at the wide eyed housewife who was now only a few inches lower than his eye level. "Ok 'Tammy' I'll lay things out for you. As badly wounded as the cult overall is at this stage in the war you and your group here are not only few in number but apparently so hard up on weapons that you seriously armed yourself with a .25 ACP pocket pistol against six far more heavily armed and mostly armored fighters. Not that .25 ACP would be a quick killing round to take unarmored unless you are a far better shot than I suspect or very... very lucky."
He bent down just a bit to finish his statement. "To quote Benjamin Franklin 'Join, or Die'. The latter is the most likely outcome for you if you keep trying to go after the cult alone."
He set her down and she backed away clearly shaken for the moment.
Eli whistled softly. "I knew you were big Roger but not that big nor that strong. No wonder you have been giving hell against the cult if your TV broadcasts are anything to go by."
"Well Eli I have been trying to use the persona that the cult has given me for everything its worth. From what I have seen a lot of their own people have been killing themselves in droves and I have reports of increased breakdowns of discipline. The battle at Baron Lumber apparently cleared out a lot of Jacob's garrison and even took away two armored vehicles from him." He said as Eli eyes lit up.
"Jesus... I thought Jacob had at least some sort of actual armor. Makes me getting blown off by Drubman all the worse." He muttered quickly as he started pacing slightly.
"You said you drained his forces right?" He asked.
"Yeah from what we can tell the major outposts were left with a absolute minimum of man power probably enough to keep watch on any prisoners. A lot of the smaller outposts are just empty, hell even the check point guarding the north bridge to Joseph's island was abandoned when the cult caught wind of Hudson here attacking Baron Lumber Mill."
That tidbit caught all three of the Whitetails off guard.
"Joseph's surrounded?!" Wheaty exclaimed.
He nodded and Joey joined in the conversation. "The product of a two pronged attack from both Holland Valley and the Henbane River regions. Working together has gotten us this far and if you can work with us now. Help us solidify our hold on the mountains, we can kill Jacob and his forces then all that is left is to take Joseph down."
Eil smiled and nodded. "Join, or Die."
"Indeed." He replied.
"Welcome to the Wolf's Den then, we'll find a place for you guys to rest and in the morning we'll figure out what the next move is. Oh and feel free keep the tiny pistol... to make up for the insult."