We Will Rise Again

Chapter 1 - Hope

Junior Deputy Winston Moore was once again proving to himself that the pressure of the past month was taking a toll on him. He wrestled with the iron handle of the bunker's door until the aching pain in his head forced him to pause. His hands, slick with blood and sweat, trembled around the door handle. It had been a long day, and he was in no mood for another setback. He cursed himself and tried again.

Soft footsteps approaching caused Winston to whip around. Grace Armstrong, a military veteran and Olympic bronze medalist, gestured behind her.

"We're clear for now." She gave him a once-over. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, casting his eyes away from hers.

Grace wasn't a fool, and Winston was a terrible liar. Her usual stoic expression softened. "I'm sure Hudson's alright."

At a glance, she could see that he was beside himself. With a reassuring hand on the shoulder, Grace had centered him once again. Over the past several weeks, Grace had become Winston's closest partner against the cult of Eden's Gate. And although she wasn't much for conversation or pleasantries, he could tell that she had warmed up to him. He was thankful for her companionship.

"I know," he said.

Winston took a deep breath and did all he could to push away his anxiety. It was time to focus objectively on the task at hand: rescuing Deputy Joey Hudson, his partner.

Winston knew that John, Herald of Holland Valley and youngest of the Seed brothers, wouldn't have killed her. She was far too valuable for that. Instead, he had used her as bait for Winston, knowing full well that he would never abandon his partner. At some point, John expected Winston and the Holland Valley Resistance to buckle under the pressure of his reign. But John was used to easy victories, and in his arrogance, had not expected the Resistance to band together so efficiently to topple everything he had built. When he finally came to his senses, it was too late - he had lost.

She's definitely alive. I just need to find her.

Minutes ago, Winston and Grace had passed through a small control room filled with a myriad of TV screens connected to a massive wall-to-wall console. The small screens primarily displayed the bunker's holding cells and torture chambers that passed for confessionals. Neither Winston nor Grace had spotted Joey on any of the screens, but the closest torture chamber had seemed promising enough. So, together, they progressed through the control room and down the steps, arriving at their current location in front of the steel door.

"Okay, let's see what we've got," Winston said with renewed vigor.

Once again, Winston attempted to open the door. This time, now that his nerves had subsided somewhat, he opened the door with ease. He was sure it would please the residents of Holland Valley to know that their hero was previously attempting to turn the handle the wrong way. He decided to chide himself later and crossed the threshold into the next room.

They entered a small, candle-lit hallway that unraveled and spilled into a larger room. This room, like the one Winston was held in a few weeks ago, was decorated with foul, grotesque art. Mangled bodies hung from the ceiling, and bones adorned with flowers mantled the walls. Unsightly, but congruent with John's twisted tastes.

Winston's nose crinkled at the smell of blood, and upon rounding the corner of the hallway, he spotted two bodies slumped in office chairs in the center of the chamber. They appeared to be cultists and not prisoners. This gave Winston pause, but before he could think of the implications, he was struck hard in the jaw.

His bare back collided with the concrete floor, and he became winded. A blur of greens and browns quickly pounced on him. Winston noticed the glint of a knife and raised his hands to defend himself. His assailant's wrist landed square in his waiting palm. Unfazed, the attacker pushed with all their might.

Winston's eyes locked with his attacker's and, realizing that it was Joey, shouted. "Joey, stop! It's me!"

Deputy Joey Hudson's once serious eyes had become feral and confused. She wasn't listening. It was as if she couldn't even recognize or understand him anymore. Suddenly, Grace tore her from Winston and bridged the gap between the two deputies.

"Hudson, relax," Grace ordered, tone firm and even. "You're safe."

Joey's eyes darted frantically between Grace and Winston as her ragged breathing slowed. Finally, her gaze settled on Winston.

"Winston? I — oh my God," she stammered, life returning to her glassy eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't — I was just — I don't know."

The knife she held clattered onto the floor beside her. While Grace took a watchful position in the hallway, Winston moved to Joey's side.

"That's okay, I know." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Are you—"

Joey threw herself against Winston's chest. The sudden action caught him off guard and he lost his balance, falling onto his rear. He then wrapped his arms around her. "You're alright. You're alright," he soothed.

"I didn't know if you'd ever make it back," she said, eyes flickering around the room. "And the peggies, they — they just started screaming and running around. It's like they went crazy all of a sudden. Then they locked me in here and left. I don't know what's going on."

"It's John," Winston said. "We got him."

Joey pulled away from Winston, studying his face in disbelief. "You mean…"

"He's gone."

A flurry of emotions crossed Joey's face, and Winston could tell that there was much she wanted to say, but she instead bit her lip and stared at the floor. In the near decade that Winston had known her, she had never looked so utterly defeated. A wave of guilt tore at his heart. Had he not escaped from John and left Joey behind, he could've taken the brunt of John's punishment for her.

"Winston." Joey's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "He did this to you?"

Her fingers traced the jagged letters of the tattoo on Winston's bare chest. The letters formed the word 'WRATH'.

"My 'sin'," Winston said bitterly.

Joey's eyes narrowed. "That motherfucker," she seethed through gritted teeth. "How bad is it?"

"It's nothing to worry about. It just stings," he said. "Did he get you, too?"

Joey took a breath. "No."

"Okay," Winston said. "Well, look. We've gotta get you out of here. Can you stand?"

Joey nodded. Winston stood up and offered a hand to his partner. Once she was on her feet, she took a deep breath and regained her composure. "Okay. John had other people down here with me. We have to get them out, too."

"I know. Grace and I saw the other cells on the cameras." He gestured to the hallway behind him. "They passed you through that control room, right? There's bound to be a way to get those doors open from there."

Joey nodded, and her expression darkened. "Good. We'll get them out of here, and then we'll blow this place to kingdom come."

Had Joey said that to him two weeks ago, he would have outright refused. Back then, the Holland Valley Resistance was backed into a corner and they would have needed the supplies stored in John's bunker. But things had changed. The Resistance had taken their farmlands and properties back from John, and had become self-sufficient again. Destroying the bunker combined with the news of John's death would send the cult a clear message: Hope County would not stand by and allow the cult to do as they please any longer.

Winston thought about that and nodded. "I'm with you."

He offered her his pistol. She took it and gave him a weak smile. "Okay, let's do this."

It took almost an hour to free John's prisoners and cause enough critical damage to the bunker to have it implode. But they had managed to do it, finally closing the chapter on John Seed's cruel reign.

Fall's End had already erupted into a state of rampant partying by the time Winston arrived. And in what felt like another life now, Winston would have been called to the scene to shut the party down. But not tonight. The people of Holland Valley deserved to have all the fun in the world, so long as they could handle the following day's hangover.

It was getting to be a hair too crazy, though. The people dancing, crying and shouting for joy was expected. The loud music punctuated that. But the amount of pickup trucks tearing down the road with the driver laying on the horn and people hanging out back, somehow doing shots at seventy miles per hour no less, was too crazy for Winston's blood. Still, he couldn't help but feel the joy that radiated down Main Street, and he didn't hesitate to hoot and holler with the rest of the crowd. Holland Valley had come back to life.

Winston continued down Main Street towards the Spread Eagle where the crowd got their liquor. As soon as he stepped into the very loud and very packed bar, he heard Mary May call out to him over the cacophony, "Beans!"

Winston raised his eyebrows and made his way to the bar, wading through the wasted crowd and squinting at Mary May like that would help him make sense of what she had yelled. "Beans?"

He sat down at the bar. Mary May placed a loaded bowl of chili beans in front of Winston. "Casey's famous chili. A fitting meal for our hero, huh?"

Winston snorted and rolled his brown eyes. "Don't even start with that 'hero' business."

Over the past few weeks, Mary May had developed a habit of teasing Winston. He found it irritating, while she thought his reactions were cute. Still, he was happy to have been so easily welcomed into the community. Winston had only been in Hope County for a few days before his new department was tasked with bringing in the cult leader, Joseph Seed. Because of that, he never had time to get to know any of the county's residents. Luckily for him, Mary May, along with Pastor Jerome, were among the first of Holland Valley's citizens that had warmed up to him.

Mary May laughed to herself as she poured a drink for him.

"Yeah, laugh it up, Fairgrave," Winston smirked. They almost had to yell to be heard over the crowd.

"Really, though." She wiped the smile from her face. "You did a lot for us. I mean, look around. The people here really have hope now."

"It wasn't just me," Winston said with a wave of the hand. "Everybody had a hand in this."

"Sure, but if you didn't stand up, then nobody else would have," she said. "And don't pretend that's not what happened, either. We all know what you did, and we'll always have your back."

Winston ran his fingers along the grain of the bar's wooden counter. "I… I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." She slapped him on the shoulder. "Enjoy your night. And eat those beans. You don't want to make Casey sad."

Mary May smiled at Winston again before she picked up a tray of drinks to bring to a table.

"Wait up a sec," Winston said. Mary May stopped and looked at him. "How's Joey?"

"She's doing okay. Grace took her upstairs to get cleaned up. I don't know if she'll be coming down tonight, though," Mary May explained.

"Got it. Thanks."

Winston had already been told over the radio that Joey and Grace made it back to Fall's End before him, and while he knew they were safe, he was still worried about Joey. Physically, she was fine, but her mental state could have been a different story. Winston admired her mental fortitude and strove to be like her, but he knew that even the strongest people had their breaking points.

"Deputy Moore," the unmistakable voice of Pastor Jerome called out to him. "The man of the hour."

Winston turned around to see the town's pastor walking towards him cheerfully. The two men shook hands.

"What you did today..." Pastor Jerome whistled, an enormous smile crept onto his face. "I knew we kept you around for a reason."

Winston laughed and toasted with Jerome, both took a hearty swig afterwards. "How's Nick? He made it back home?" Winston asked.

"He did." Pastor Jerome chuckled to himself. "Nearly took a can opener to get him out of that plane, but we got him back safe. He wanted to follow you all the way to the bunker."

Winston sighed. "He took a hell of a risk charging into John's ranch to pick me up like that. We could've just ambushed him at his bunker."

"I know," Pastor Jerome agreed. "But that's just how Nick is. He's as stubborn as the day is long."

"Oh, I hear you," Winston snickered.

"Well." Jerome laid a firm hand on Winston's shoulder. "I won't keep you. I know you have more people to talk to. Have a good night."

As he walked away, Winston realized Pastor Jerome was right. He had plenty of people that wanted to speak with him. And although he was happy to catch up with his new neighbors, recounting stories and taking shots, at this rate, he would never finish those beans.

Hours later, Winston checked the clock on the wall and realized it was half-past one in the morning. Mary May had sent everyone home already, and Winston was the only person in the downstairs part of the building. He leaned back in his chair to stretch and yawn. His limbs felt like lead and his joints ached - a commonality that his body had grown used to.

"Hey, you," Joey's voice pierced the silence.

Winston spun around to face her.

"Hey," he breathed. He hadn't expected to see her until the following day.

Joey looked much better, but John's treatment of her remained apparent. From her swollen left eye to the nasty rope marks on her wrists. John had done a number on her. Joey took a seat next to Winston and grimaced as she tried to find a comfortable position. She leaned back against the bar and grinned.

"I can't believe it," she said and laughed softly. "You guys really did it."

Winston smiled to himself. He then felt Joey take his hand into hers. Joey looked at the ground. "I'm glad you came back."

She squeezed his hand and then met his eyes. "But more than that, Grace told me about the things you did, and I am so, so proud of you."

Her words gave Winston pause. "I appreciate it, but I shouldn't have left you behind. That was..." He sighed.

Joey leaned closer to Winston with a look of austerity. Her mouth hung slightly ajar and her eyes fluttered. "Are you joking? Winston, if you didn't escape when you did, we'd still be down there."

Winston didn't respond. He just shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"You did the right thing," Joey stared pointedly, almost daring him to challenge her.

He crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Right. You're right."

Before either of them could say anything else, they heard a rhythmic beeping coming from outside of the bar. The rumbling of a large vehicle's engine followed the beeping.

Winston's brow creased. "Ah, what the hell is he doing now?"

Winston didn't have to guess who was making a commotion outside. He walked to the door with a curious Joey and opened it.

"Hurk, what the hell is this?"

Hurk Drubman Jr. had just pulled up to the Spread Eagle in a reclaimed peggie supply truck. Hurk shut off the engine and slid out of the vehicle with his signature goofy grin. "This ol' thing? It's one of the peggie's reaping trucks. They usually—"

"No, I know that." Winston released an exasperated sigh. He enjoyed having Hurk around, but sometimes his lack of sense was overbearing. "I mean, what did you bring it here for?"

Hurk clapped his hands together. They were slick with engine grease.

"Oh, I gotcha," he said, dragging the 'oh' for too long. "Mary May asked me to bring one of 'em here."

The Resistance had claimed many of the cult's vehicles for themselves. In the beginning, when supplies were low, they were good for siphoning gas. But after reclaiming the Golden Valley gas station, the Resistance was able to fully utilize the cult's vehicles for defense and transportation. The reaping trucks had proven useful for the Resistance's efforts in redistributing supplies the cult stole.

"For what? You going on a road trip or something?" Winston asked.

"Nah, man. This is for—" Hurk stopped mid-sentence. Winston hadn't noticed that Joey had stood beside him. "Oh, this is your partner, right? Well, hello Deputy—"

"Oh, no you don't," Winston raised a hand to stop Hurk. "Keep on topic."

"We're setting up a little supply run," Mary May said.

Winston turned to his left to see Mary May walking towards them. She wiped her hands off with a towel and looked at Hurk. "Hey, do you mind getting those boxes in the kitchen?"

"Copy that," Hurk said. He scooted past Winston and Joey to get inside the Spread Eagle.

Winston crossed his arms. "What's this supply run all about?"

Mary May leaned against the truck's white, weather-beaten trailer. "We're thinking now that John's gone, we can finally get supplies to the Cougars."

"They're in the Henbane, right?" Winston asked.

"That's right," Mary May said. "Now that the valley is free, Pastor Jerome and I thought it would be a good time to get some supplies to our neighbors tomorrow."

"This can't wait another day or two? You know, give everyone some time to regroup?" Joey asked.

Mary May's lips tightened, and she sighed. "No, it can't." She brushed a stray golden bang out of her eyes. "Dutch radioed this morning saying that he hadn't heard from the Cougars in a while. He sounded pretty worried, but up until this evening there was nothing we could do about it."

"I see." Winston scratched his chin. He turned to his left. "Oh, hey y'all."

Pastor Jerome and Grace approached the group. Grace looked Winston over, and upon satisfaction that nothing was wrong, nodded to herself. Pastor Jerome carried a clipboard and showed it to Mary May.

"Grace and I have everything the town can spare marked right here." He ran his finger over the paper, pointing out the names of the items and the town's stock. "We should have everything ready to go by, say, ten or eleven in the morning."

Mary May took the list into her own hands and scanned it a few times. "Okay, this should be fine."

"Alright. Well, we should get some rest, yeah? Early morning tomorrow." Pastor Jerome took the clipboard from Mary May and gave her a friendly smile. He then turned to Winston and Joey. "Goodnight, you two."

They bid him a good night as he returned to his church, a noticeable pep in his step that hadn't been there while John was still around.

"So, y'all are really planning on going tomorrow?" Winston asked.

Mary May stretched her arms over her head. "Yeah. Like I told you guys—" She stifled a yawn. "We don't have much of a choice. This is as much of a wellness check as it is a supply run."

"I'll go with you, then," Winston said. As if on cue, his muscles ached in protest. "I need to be there at some point, anyway."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's a good idea? You look like you could collapse at any second."

Winston brushed the comment off. "I'm fine. I just need a couple of hours to catch my breath. And like Mary said, this is a wellness check, and I'm a cop. So, you know, this is kind of my job."

Grace shook her head and resigned herself from arguing with him.

Joey looked at Winston gravely. "You're not serious, are you? You need rest. I mean, really, you look like hell."

"Yes, I got that. Thank you both for that," Winston said. "But I wouldn't go if I couldn't handle it. I'm not stupid."

With a sigh that encapsulated years of lost arguments, she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "Fine. Just be careful. Please."

"I'm always careful," he assured her. He then raised his eyebrows at Mary May, "What are we expecting? There hasn't been any communication for a few days, right?"

"Right. I mean, this has happened before, but the reason we're worried now is that they've been reporting that Faith was putting a lot more pressure on them. More consistent attacks, fewer people coming back from excursions - the works," she explained.

"So, we could be walking into anything?" Winston asked.

"Essentially."

Winston frowned, and his stomach started turning in apprehension. He wanted to be in the Henbane as soon as possible, but he had hoped for a clearer understanding of the stakes. At least with Holland Valley, he knew to a certain degree what to expect.

"Well, we'll work with it. Can you tell me anything about the Henbane?" He gestured to Joey. "The briefing I got was fairly light on that part of the county. Just a bunch of rumors without any real concrete facts."

Mary May sighed, "Truthfully, there's not much I can tell you that you don't already know. All I've ever been told is that you're better off staying away from that place."

Winston remembered Grace telling him that the cultists had ambushed her and her father in that region. Still, he knew that could've happened anywhere in the county, so he pressed on with his questions.

"Anything about Faith?"

"Do you remember her broadcast from last week?" Mary May asked.

Winston nodded. Dutch had told Winston that the Cougars recovered Whitehorse, but that Marshal Burke was still missing. They assumed that Faith's people had captured him. Faith proved them right when she televised a live feed of herself and Marshal Burke.

That broadcast was the first time Winston got a good look at Faith. He first saw her when he attempted to arrest Joseph Seed, the cult's leader - The Father, in his church. Throughout the entire ordeal, Faith never took her hazel-green eyes off of Winston. On the broadcast, he could see that she wasn't much younger than him. Further still, she didn't even look intimidating like her brothers. Winston figured that was part of her strategy.

"I do," Winston said. "I can't believe she got that bastard to apologize to Joseph on behalf of us."

"That's the power of the Bliss," Mary May said. "That's why they say that you should stay away from her. She'll twist your mind and wrap you around her pretty little finger if you get caught."

"That's what I heard, too," Grace chimed in. "But we can ask about Faith some more when we get to the jail. They likely know much more about her than we do."

"Y'all talkin' about Faith?" Hurk appeared behind Winston and Joey. He had just finished loading the supply truck.

"You know something about her?" Grace asked as she crossed her arms. Winston knew she expected little from Hurk.

"Well," Hurk started, "I know she drugs people. She's the pretty one, right? That's who we're talking about?"

Grace closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Mary May shook her head, and Joey looked confused.

"You — Are you? — Would you get out of here?" Winston bit, jerking his thumb down the road.

Winston's sudden reaction startled Hurk, and he left in a rush.

"God bless." Grace sighed and shook her head. "And he's coming with us? I liked him better when he was in Kyrat."

Mary May laughed softly. "He's not too smart, but he's got heart."

"If that's what you want to call it," Joey muttered under her breath.

"Well, we should be getting to bed. We've got a long day tomorrow," Mary May said. She looked at Joey with a mischievous spark in her eyes. "And you most of all, young lady. Those bruises aren't going to heal themselves."

If they hadn't been such good friends, Joey wouldn't have tolerated that tone. Instead, Joey playfully pushed her friend back. "Oh, shut up. I'm going."

Winston ran his fingers through his curly brown hair and yawned. Sleep was calling to him, and he wouldn't be able to escape its clutches much longer. "Yeah," he said. "That's about a wrap for me, too. I'll lock up for you if you're heading home now."

"Thank you," Mary May said. She quickly hugged Joey, Winston, and an uncomfortable Grace before leaving. "Night, y'all."

Mary May stretched and yawned as she walked down the street, twirling her keyring around her finger. Winston felt a yawn coming up and decided that now would be the best time to head to bed before he collapsed in the middle of Main Street.

"Good night, Gracie," Winston said, his eyelids growing heavier. "Night, Joey."

"Good night," they returned.

Winston walked into the Spread Eagle. He noticed Joey stayed outside to speak to Grace, and could hear Joey thanking her for looking out for him. He shook his head and waited for her to come back inside. When she did, she wordlessly hugged Winston and dragged herself upstairs.

Winston locked the bar, turned off the lights, cleaned up, and brought his tired, aching body to his room. He had been sleeping in the Spread Eagle's upstairs room since he helped free the town. It wasn't a comfortable living arrangement by any means, but Winston was thankful for Mary May's kindness in letting him stay there.

More than anything, Winston was thankful for a bed - even if his legs hung over the edge and the springs poked at him. He peeled his shirt off, threw it in the corner of the small, square room, and collapsed face-first onto the firm mattress. He shut his eyes and his body sighed in sweet relief. Finally, a moment of respite.

That illusion shattered as soon as Winston saw John's face. They were back on the side of the road where Winston had finally caught up to John after their standoff in the church.

But he's dead. Why is he here? Why am I here?

A crude mixture of blood, sweat, and mud distorted John's handsome features as he writhed in pain, gritting his teeth as blood poured from the bullet wound in his abdomen. Still, despite his weakness, John was once again clenching tightly onto Winston's wrist, forbidding him from taking the bunker key that dangled from his neck.

John's ocean-blue eyes had become pained. "What if Joseph is right? Did you ever think about that?"

John's mouth continued to move, but Winston could no longer hear him. He could see in John's eyes that he was desperate, that he didn't want to die. Winston found himself unable to speak, every word that tried to surface was strangled in his throat. John's grip tightened, and Winston could hear him again. "We had a plan."

He looked so disappointed in Winston.

"You don't understand. You don't believe," John seethed. His grip was crushing Winston's wrist. "You don't care!" he howled.

Winston's wrist snapped under the pressure, and a searing pain flared up along the length of his right arm. He fell backward into the mud and clutched his wrist. He tried to scream, but no sound came from his open mouth.

Suddenly, John was standing over him. No longer was he bruised and beaten. Now he looked as pristine as ever. His lips twisted into a wry smile and he clasped his hands together. His icy eyes bore into Winston's.

"But you'll see," he said with a gentle laugh.

Winston's eyes snapped open. He looked around the dark room to find that there was no John anymore; he had only been dreaming. Winston rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He wiped away the sweat from his brow and breathed in deeply. He had simply wanted a few hours of rest, but sleep wouldn't come easy to the Junior Deputy.

Note:

Thank you for reading. I've been wanting to do something like this for a while. If you have any thoughts you'd like to share, feel free to let me know via Review or PM - whatever suits your fancy.

My goal is to update this bi-weekly. I've got an outline good to go and I know what I want out of and where I'm going to take this story, so it's just a matter of getting words on the document.