We Will Rise Again

Chapter 8 - Salvation

Winston sat on an old, dusty pew in the middle of a derelict church, the one he had first met Grace at. In his hand was a crumpled-up piece of paper that he'd found hidden amongst the toppled furniture and scattered papers. Unfolding it revealed a hastily scrawled note from a certain Father Brian, who detailed the cult's hostile takeover of the church. According to Father Brian, he had held onto the church as long as he could before the cult forced him to flee. There was no mention of whether he'd made it out alive or not.

After a few moments of thought, Winston moved to crumple the paper once more, but paused and set it beside him. He leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling. Wherever this Father Brian was, dead or alive, in Hope County or out, he hoped he was at peace.

Winston closed his eyes and absent-mindedly pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no more pain or swelling from his encounter with Faith, but the chemical stench from the Bliss had returned once more. The longer he stayed in the Henbane, the more he was exposed to the drug and its lasting effects that always seemed to come in waves. Winston wondered what would follow the smell this time. Would it be that familiar, indistinct voice teasing his ears or another amorphous source of light teasing his peripheral vision? Presently, it smelled as if he had launched himself into the heart of a chemical vat. Simultaneously, the smell of wet dog was becoming more poignant. Sitting forward, Winston identified the source of the smell lying at his feet.

Lying stretched out without a care in the world was Boomer. His stomach rose and fell gently as he slept. Winston rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. To think that Boomer had fooled Winston's nose into believing it was in the midst of a Bliss field was enough to make Winston laugh silently to himself.

Convinced that he needed some air, Winston carefully made his way to the church's front doors, so as not to wake Boomer. Luckily for him, Boomer slept hard. Winston pulled the doors open and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped through the threshold. The previous night's rain had left puddles scattered about that reflected the waning sun. Winston rolled his shoulders and felt the piling waves of stress dissipate with the evening wind. Fresh air was exactly what he needed. That woodland smell purged any remaining chemical smell from his senses.

"Hey." Grace tapped Winston on the shoulder as she stood next to him.

The sudden touch made him jump, and his heart skipped a beat. 'Always the ghost,' Winston thought.

"You scared the shit out of me," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as his heart rate settled.

The faintest smirk teased Grace's lips before she crossed her arms and looked ahead at the gravestones in the churchyard. Most of them were old, worn, and sunken into the ground due to decades of rain. Yet amidst all the old, unattended gravestones, new ones were popping up. Winston could pick out at least a dozen new makeshift gravestones that had popped up since he was last at the church.

The last time being when he happened upon Grace. After helping to liberate Fall's End, Dutch told Winston that he had been hearing about something going down at the Lamb of God church and told him to check it out. When Winston arrived, he found Grace holding out against waves of peggies from the bell tower. Apparently, they had been instructed by John to raze the church and destroy the graves to demoralize the people of Holland Valley. It didn't work. With the combined force of Grace and Winston, the peggies never stood a chance and were forced to abandon the mission. Since that day, Grace traveled with Winston nearly everywhere he went.

"How do you feel?" Winston asked.

Grace shifted her weight to her right leg and drew her fingers over the bill of her hat. "I think..." She paused and bit her lip. "It still hasn't sunken in yet."

Winston nodded. By the time he met Grace, her father had already been killed. It was a senseless killing, driven by John's fear that any anti-Eden's Gate speech would be the spark that ignited a resistance. That would have never happened, according to Grace, as no one ever listened to her father's warnings - not even her. That regret, that inability to see what was what, she had told him, drove her to take up arms against the cult.

"I can understand that. You haven't exactly had the chance to slow down since it happened," Winston said.

"No." She drew a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. "But it is good to stop for a while. Thanks for bringing me here."

Winston smiled. "Well, what are friends for, right?"

Grace chuckled and dragged her boot along the threshold of the door. "Speaking of slowing down, when are you going to slow down?"

She gave Winston a once over and frowned.

"You look like shit."

Winston laughed. His hair was a curly mess, his eyes were dark and drowsy, and his posture was loose. "I haven't been sleeping well these past few weeks."

He kept thinking back to his conversation with Tracey. Over and over again, he replayed that conversation about Faith, and he matched it with his own encounter with her. The idea that she was forced into that life by Joseph could change everything. And she wasn't alone, either. If it was true, then how many others had been forced into that life as well? Had John, as insane as he was, been manipulated, too? That constant circle of thought had kept him from sleeping.

"Not sure why," he mumbled, kicking a rock down the trail. "Just haven't."

Without looking, he could feel Grace's stare. It was one of the few times in his life when he wished someone didn't care so much. The gnawing feeling in his heart wouldn't be there if Grace wasn't with him almost every day. If she hadn't seen him stumble and falter time and time again or just didn't care, he wouldn't feel guilty about pushing himself.

"Why don't you just let someone else take over for a while?" Grace asked after a long silence. "You and Tracey have already given the Cougars a good foothold in the Henbane. And even she and the others switch out from time to time."

That could never work, he thought. He trusted his friends to take care of each other and fight hard, but he didn't trust them with what he had to do. He had to see Faith again, and he couldn't have anyone else putting a bullet in her before that happened, no matter how many people may hate her.

Winston rubbed his eyes, only further reinforcing Grace's worry. Dropping his hands to his sides, he smiled at her.

"I'm alright. Honest," he said, raising his hand as if under oath.

"You know," Winston started again. "I've been thinking, and I don't know what the hell I'm going to do when this is all over. I feel more used to this than anything else. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

He shrugged.

"I get that," Grace said. "When I went overseas, I got used to it faster than I thought I would. Your mind just compresses all that."

She bit her lip. Winston noticed the distant look in her eyes and averted his own to the ground. Grace didn't often speak about her time in the service.

"It's a good thing, in a way. Keeps you sharp. Makes you forget how scared you are. But when the fighting stops, you forget how to be normal again. I think a lot of people here are going to know how it feels when this is all said and done," she said. "I'm sure a lot of them already do. They just won't admit it."

Winston nodded.

"If anything, you should remember all the good you're doing out here. When I got back and got to thinking about my time in Afghanistan, it was hard to see what good I did. But for you… Well, just look around. Not a peggie in sight. I haven't seen people in Holland Valley look like this in a long time," Grace said.

"Hey, I couldn't have done it without you," Winston said, tapping her on the arm. "If it were just me…"

He laughed softly and shook his head. When he arrived in Hope County, he wasn't even close to ready for what awaited him. Without Grace, he couldn't have made it as far as he did.

"You've gotten a lot stronger, but you need to take care of yourself. You're not invincible, and I don't want to see you burning yourself out," she said.

Her eyes had softened, and Winston could sense the sincerity in her words. It pained him to worry her, but there wasn't much he could do otherwise. He swallowed the lump in his throat and fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt.

"I will, but—"

"But not right now, right?"

Her disappointment was palpable.

"You know well enough by now that people are never going to stop asking for your help," she said. "I know that things have to get done, but it's not feasible for you to be the only person leading the charge all the time."

"It's not always like that," Winston said. A pointless effort. "I just—"

His radio suddenly buzzed to life, punctuating Grace's point. With a frown, he unclipped the radio from his belt as Grace clenched her jaw and sighed.

"Hey, Winston. It's Jerome. Do you have an hour or two? There's something I could use your help with."

"Yeah. I—" Winston cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'll be there soon."

"Glad to hear it. I'll be waiting at the church," Jerome said before the radio went silent again.

Winston lowered the radio to his side and glanced at Grace. Her countenance was as neutral as ever, but Winston knew she was less than pleased. Those gloomy eyes made Winston want to tell her everything. About Faith, about himself, about everything that was going through his head and eating at him. But he couldn't put that on her yet. He knew Grace would never hate him, but he didn't know if he could tell her about his thoughts on Faith. Even someone as collected as Grace harbored a deep hatred for Eden's Gate and all who followed them. The American flag draped over her father's grave was a constant reminder of what they took from her.

The chances of Grace wanting to help him with Faith were hard to figure, so he elected to keep the burden off of her. It would be better to shoulder the task himself. If he could at least speak to Faith once, then he would know how to proceed. Until then, there was no chance of resting.

Winston clipped his radio back to his belt as Boomer, mid-yawn, ambled over to the pair. He looked between Grace and Winston and sat back on his hind legs.

"I can take this alone if you want to spend some more time here with your dad," Winston said.

Grace shook her head. "No. I've said all I needed to him. I'm with you."

Winston nodded. He knew Grace was still upset, but he appreciated her presence all the same. He turned to Boomer and gestured with a hand for the dog to follow as the three began the trip back.

The ride to Fall's End was about as quiet as Winston expected. Besides Boomer's constant panting, the car's cabin was silent, which was nothing unusual for Winston and Grace. They'd grown comfortable with each other and took the time on the empty roads to think, hardly exchanging any words. It was soothing. But this time, the silence was dense and present and Winston fidgeted the whole way, drumming his fingers on the wheel to an uneven rhythm, while Grace rested her arm on the door and gazed out the window.

Arriving at Pastor Jerome's church was a welcome chance for Winston to breathe again as he entered the old building. Jerome stood behind his pulpit, thumbing through a modest stack of papers. He adjusted his glasses and looked up with a warm smile as Winston, Grace, and Boomer approached.

"Mister Moore, Miss Armstrong. Boomer," Jerome extended his hand as he rounded the pulpit. "Good to see you all still kicking."

Pastor Jerome's mood was a source of much-needed warmth for Winston as he shook the man's hand. Jerome looked well. His features had eased significantly since the struggle in the Valley had ended and he carried himself with a vigorous aura. He had even forgone his bulletproof vest for more comfortable clothing. Things had definitely changed since John died.

"It's good to see you, too. I've heard you've been well," Winston said.

"Joey's been keeping you in the loop, hm?" Jerome chuckled. "But yes, we've all been doing well these past few weeks. Certainly a heavy load off our shoulders with John Seed gone.

"But as for why I asked you for help," Jerome paused for a moment and adjusted his glasses. "Do you remember those people you helped at Woodson's Farm?"

Brief memories of a grizzly hostage situation played out in Winston's mind as he connected the family name to the event.

"I remember. Are they alright?"

"They're doing well, actually. The reason I bring them up is because they know some people up in the Whitetail Mountains that came across this boy and his little sister. They were all alone, out in the rain, and terrified," Jerome said. "Turns out, they had defected from the cult."

Winston crossed his arms. He'd never heard of anyone defecting from the cult. Many of the cult's members had come from out of state to join. It was likely that the cult's numbers were made up of more out-of-state people than Montanans. Obviously, a majority of the people wanted to be there. They wouldn't have traveled hundreds to thousands of miles otherwise. But some might have decided that they made a mistake, or simply didn't take to the cult's lifestyle.

"So what happened? Did the family kill them?"

"No, they actually took them in," Jerome said. "I know what you might think, given the short time you've been here, but the people here aren't heartless. Not yet."

Winston nodded.

"So when they saw how scared those kids were, they sheltered them. Unfortunately, with how bad things have been up there, they couldn't stay forever and had to leave. That's where you come in. You'll be meeting with them at the Silver Lake trailer park in about an hour. I just need you to get them here and you'll be done. I'd do it myself, but I'm still preparing a place for them here. They're scared, and you're the only one I can count on now to do this," Jerome said.

"Why me?" Winston asked.

"Because I strongly believe that we have to be willing to forgive to move forward. No matter who has wronged us. Even those that have wronged us. The people here… they have a hard time accepting that - and understandably so. But I think you know a thing or two about forgiveness, don't you?"

Winston chuckled. Pastor Jerome was evidently a good judge of character. That was likely a large part of why he was so valuable to the community. The worst thing Winston heard about Jerome was that he was too nice.

"I get where you're coming from. I'll help you out," Winston said.

Jerome's philosophy matched his own, and it made Winston more comfortable just hearing the man say it out loud.

"I knew you would," Jerome said, clapping Winston on the shoulder. "They'll be with an escort from the Whitetail militia by the name of Brett. He'll hand them off and all you have to do is bring them the rest of the way back here. Their names, by the way, are Kenny and Lauren."

Winston raised an eyebrow. "Your guy can't get those two back here himself?"

"That's Eli's decision, not mine. From what I've heard, the situation in the mountains is getting worse every day. Eli wants all hands on deck in case Jacob tries anything. Honestly, being the way that he is, I'm surprised he was willing to spare us an escort at all. I was sure I'd be sending you deep into the mountains," Jerome said.

"I gotcha. I've heard about the hell they're going through. Jacob sounds like a real tough bastard."

"He is. When I first met him, I knew he was carrying something dark, and having served in the Gulf War myself, I could sympathize. But where I found the Lord, Jacob took to playing war games with his brothers," Jerome said, shaking his head.

"Wait a minute. You knew Jacob?" Winston asked.

"I never told you? I knew him. John, too. There was even a time when I called Joseph Seed a friend. But that must have been…" Jerome paused and scrunched his face in thought. "Oh, maybe twelve, thirteen years ago. It was long before the cult was what it is today."

"Actually," Winston looked around. "I think I heard once that you had a history with the Seeds."

"We all do, in some capacity," Jerome said, sparing a glance at Grace.

Grace had receded within herself and appeared to be deep in thought. Despite her absence from the conversation, she was still listening.

"My pops always knew that they were trouble," she said softly.

Jerome nodded, a faint grim look in his eyes. "He saw what too many of us missed." He turned to Winston. "You have to understand, these people were just as normal as you and I. We worked with them, ate with them, befriended them… Not many people saw what was coming until it was too late. By then, Joseph had twisted them all into something unrecognizable."

Jerome's dark expression held many years of memories that were slowly bubbling to the surface. He traced the cover of the Bible he held with his thumb and sighed, a small smile returning to his face.

"But that's a story for another time. For now, you should—"

Jerome was cut off by an indiscernible and panicked voice coming from his radio. He deposited the Bible onto a nearby pew and raised the radio up, adjusting the volume knob. The voice came through more clearly this time.

"Jerome. Can you hear me? They got us. At — at the checkpoint. There was — shit!"

The voice seemed to belong to the young man Jerome had mentioned, but intense background noise made his next words hard to hear. Before Winston realized it, he had stood rigid as the unmistakable sounds of gunfire could be heard through the radio. Jerome pressed the button to talk, and with an even tone, began to work through the situation with the boy.

"Kenny. Just tell me where you are. I'll send help right away."

Several seconds of silence succeeded Jerome's words. Winston could see Jerome swallow hard as he tried to raise Kenny again. Almost a minute later, they heard from Kenny.

"I — fuck, I don't know. We had to stop. There was no other choice. They got Brett. And Lauren, she's — I — I don't… They're coming again. I can hear them. I thought we lost them."

Kenny's breathing was ragged as he ran his words into each other. The pure fear in his voice, like someone at death's door, made Winston tense up.

"Did you make it to the trailer park?" Jerome asked.

"No. I couldn't. When Brett — I got us as far as I could, but I didn't know where to go," Kenny said, voice cracking.

"Do you see anything that stands out? Anything unusual?" Jerome pressed.

"I don't know. There was this giant apple. And — and pumpkins. I don't know what else."

"A giant apple?" Jerome asked as he briskly walked to the church's entrance.

"Rae Rae's. They're at Rae Rae's. I'm on my way," Winston said to Jerome, as he was already halfway out the door.

Grace and Boomer were right on Winston's heels as Jerome informed Kenny that help was on the way.

"Gotta be at the pumpkin farm," Winston muttered to himself as he tore down Main Street, leaving Fall's End behind.

"Do you really buy all of that second chances business? Pastor Jerome is a good man, and I get where he's coming from, but sometimes people are too far gone," Grace said.

Winston knew where she was coming from, but it wouldn't change his mind. Briefly, his mind wandered back several years to all the bad choices and people he associated himself with.

"If I didn't have a second chance, I wouldn't be here right now," he said quickly. "And these are people. They're terrified."

He saw Grace watching him out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be at an impasse with how puzzled she looked. Her eyes flickered from Winston and back to the road, but before she could say anything, Winston spoke again, eager to change the subject before any question could be asked.

"Not sure how many we're going up against here. Should've asked," Winston mumbled.

"Considering how well Jacob trains his people, I'd be surprised if there were more than a handful," Grace said.

"Of cars?"

"Soldiers."

Winston nodded. He'd heard many times that Jacob's soldiers were supposedly the most deadly in the county. All of the combatants Winston had encountered thus far had been, if nothing else, highly motivated, but not very smart. If Jacob's people were both well trained and motivated, then they'd be a force to be reckoned with.

Focusing himself, Winston leaned forward and peered down the road as they got closer to the pumpkin farm. As the car slowed to a crawl, Winston and Grace scanned the area.

"If those kids are still here, they'd be hiding," Grace murmured, eyes still focused on the tree line.

"The house."

They had come to the same conclusion.

Winston directed the vehicle down the dirt road leading to Rae Rae's home and confirmed his suspicions when an armor-clad peggie pickup truck came into view. It was parked up against a red two-door car. The rear windshield had been shattered and the car's body scraped, beaten, and filled with holes. A lone corpse, likely Brett, slumped in the driver's seat, and his blood caked the windshield and spattered over the console.

Boomer let out a low growl from the backseat as he saw two well-armed, burly men, standing at the front door of the nearby home. Grace attempted to shush him, but Boomer wouldn't listen and continued to growl. For a moment, Winston found it odd, but he remembered that this was Boomer's home. Before people just like the ones less than a few hundred feet before them had slaughtered his family.

After cutting the engine a good ways away from the house, Winston could hear the two men shouting as they looked through the windows. He could hardly hear them, but it sounded like they were bargaining with Kenny and Lauren. Although he couldn't see why they'd be trying to reason with them rather than breaking into the home and killing them, he still took the opportunity to advance while they weren't paying attention. Trained or not, those two wouldn't stand much of a chance against a surprise attack.

Quietly, Winston positioned himself behind the peggies' truck as Grace and Boomer maneuvered through the pumpkin patch to the right. They'd catch the cultists from two angles like they've done several times before. Winston glanced around the truck to see the two men still attempting to negotiate.

"Come on, Ken. You know we could end this right now if we wanted," the bald one said. "Just come out and come back with us. Eventually, Jacob will accept you back into the fold, and your sister will be safe with Faith. No further harm will come to the two of you."

He waited a moment for a response. "You know she won't last long with a bullet in her. It's time to give it up."

Winston noticed a trail of blood running from the passenger's side of the defectors' vehicle to the front door of the house. The Chosen had shot at them, wounded Lauren, and expected them to return peacefully? In what world would that have worked? Still, beyond the leaps in logic they were making, Winston knew he was working with limited time now. Judging by the amount of blood on the ground, Lauren needed to get help inside the hour or she wouldn't make it.

Winston threw his eyes to the right just in time to see Grace get into position. After exchanging a quick glance, they picked their targets. As always, Grace would take the first shot, claiming the closest hostile to her, and Winston would take the other. In this case, he set his scope on the bald one. However, this time, things changed.

In the midst of glancing at his partner, the bald man whipped his head to the side and trained his rifle on Winston, immediately sending a volley of bullets towards him. Winston threw himself backwards mere milliseconds before the bullets whizzed by. The bald man's partner appeared to understand what was happening and moved to flank Winston. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't planned for Grace and crumpled after she landed a shot in between his shoulder blades. Taking the opportunity Grace gave him, Winston peaked above the truck and fired at the remaining peggie, killing him with a few shots to the chest.

After taking a moment to make sure no other hostile threat was present, Winston released his breath. Somehow, that bald man had seen Winston through his peripheral vision and immediately engaged without so much as a second thought. Even his partner had reacted with swiftness. None of John or Faith's people had ever been as perceptive as those two. And even though the encounter lasted less than ten seconds, Winston's heart beat against his chest like a raging bull. Had he reacted even a moment later, he'd have been dead.

Winston pushed himself to his feet, his nerves making him feel light as a feather, and hoofed it to the front door of the house. Grace and Boomer hastily rendezvoused with Winston, the latter of whom had taken to inspecting the Chosen corpses as Winston knocked on the door.

"Kenny. Open the door," Winston called, rapping on the door a few more times. "Jerome sent us. Those other guys are dead."

Winston couldn't imagine what Kenny was thinking right now, but he figured he wasn't in the most trusting state. After a few seconds of silence, Winston knocked again.

"Come on. Your sister doesn't have much time. There's a lot of blood out here."

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal Kenny. His red hair was matted and slick with sweat that ran down his bruised face and soaked into his torn shirt. A lanky arm trembled as he held the door open, knuckles turning white as he sized up Winston and Grace. Kenny inhaled sharply and swallowed hard. Winston shifted into a neutral stance, slinging his rifle over his shoulder while Grace held Boomer's leash taut as the dog growled at the former peggie.

"J—Jerome really sent you?" he asked, eyes flickering back and forth once again between the two adults.

His voice was thin and rattled along with his shallow breathing. Winston nodded, noting the blood on Kenny's hands - likely from Lauren or Brett.

"He did. You're safe," Winston said as nicely as he could, hoping to ease the tension.

Kenny's brittle shield seemed to break and his eyes glistened. "Please help me," he said, voice cracking. "She's—"

"Take me to her." Grace asked, stepping forward.

Winston took Boomer's leash from Grace before Kenny led her further into Rae Rae's former home. Boomer stretched his neck past Winston and stared into the house before sitting back on his hind legs with a small whine.

Winston saw Kenny and Grace kneel beside his sister, who laid only a few feet into the main room. She was a ghostly shade of white and her skin was clammy. Blood from her abdominal wound pulsed out and soaked into the wooden floorboards. Kenny stammered through the basics of what he had done for her as Grace applied a basic field dressing. Meanwhile, Winston pulled his radio from his belt and got into contact with Jerome.

"Winston? What's happening?"

"We found them, but Lauren got shot," Winston said, as he watched Grace work. "She lost a lot of blood. We're going to have to go to the clinic. You need to let Doctor Barnes know that we—"

"No, no, no," Jerome cut in. "I have her here already. With the way Kenny was talking about Lauren, I knew something bad had happened. We've got all hands on deck here, so just get back here as fast as you can."

"Got it. We'll be right there," Winston said.

He stepped through the threshold with Boomer and knelt next to Grace. Now seeing Lauren, Winston saw that the Chosen had shot her in the lower abdomen, slightly to the left, just above the pelvis. Thanks to Grace's handiwork, the bleeding had largely subsided. Still, she was in bad shape.

"We need to move. Jerome's got Barnes in Fall's End waiting for us right now," Winston said. "You drive. I'll carry her."

Grace nodded and stood up. Winston locked eyes with Kenny, who had been clenching his sister's hand. "She's going to be okay, but we need to get her to a doctor right now."

Kenny wasn't a child, but Winston knew well enough how clouded his mind was. His lips trembled, teeming with a million things he wanted to say but couldn't before he finally let his sister's hand go. Winston gently weaved his arms around Lauren's body, trying to support her weight without hurting her. But as careful as he was, she still winced and groaned.

Winston rose to his feet and hurried outside with the others. Lauren's body was chilled and slick with sweat. She didn't have much time, and would likely need a blood transfusion. Winston's heartbeat quickened with every step he took as Kenny kept pace alongside him. Green, regretful eyes kept finding their way to Lauren and Winston.

"We're taking their truck," Grace said, opening the truck's back door. "It's got more room."

Winston eased himself and Lauren into the backseat, taking care to keep her stable. Boomer jumped into the back as well, squeezing into the space between the front and backseat before Grace shut the door and entered the driver's seat. Kenny was already in the passenger's seat and kept glancing backwards at Lauren the entire way to Fall's End.

Later that night, hours after arriving back at Fall's End with Kenny and Lauren, Winston sat at the bar in the Spread Eagle. Mary May had closed the bar not too long after the defectors arrived. She stood behind the bar, cleaning a shot glass for what must have been the tenth time in the past few minutes. Her focus was miles away from the Spread Eagle and Hope County altogether.

Joey, who had been sitting next to Winston with a drink in hand, set her glass down and leaned on the bar. "Don't you think that glass is clean enough, Mary?"

Mary May chewed on the inside of her lip and set the glass down. She slung the towel she used over her shoulder and crossed her arms, shifting from side to side ever so slightly. Her gaze refused to meet either Winton or Joey.

"You know," she said finally. "I didn't want them here. Not after everything they did to me. To my family."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed before a bitter laugh escaped her throat. "But Jerome," she clicked her tongue. "He's just so persistent. And then they… They…"

A warped, mirthless smile carved itself onto Mary May's face as she cast her eyes to the floor. "They just end up being some fucking kids," she said.

Although her voice was low and filled with contempt, there were still pained undertones. Winston's mouth hung open slightly as if he had the right words to say to her, but in the end, nothing came out and he simply clasped his drink in his hands and shut his mouth.

After a few seconds of silence between the three, scored by the bar's old jukebox, Mary swiped a bottle of whiskey off of the shelf behind her and popped the cap. "This has to end," she mumbled into the bottle as she walked out of the establishment.

The door to the Spread Eagle shut with the cheery entry bell chime, and the jukebox relentlessly played a classic rock track as the air in the bar somehow grew heavier. In the short time Winston's known Mary May, he had always pegged her as a cheerful person most of the time. But like many others in the county, she had a history with the Seeds, and she hid her pain well.

Winston's stomach flipped just thinking about what Mary must have gone through. Joey caught his eyes and turned in her chair to face him. "She never told you about what happened to her family, did she?"

He shook his head and flicked his eyes to the door for a moment. Joey leaned against the bar, watching the door as well for a moment. "To make a long story short," she began. "Her brother joined up with the cult about a year ago. When their dad found out, he went to get him, but her brother killed her dad. When she found out, she killed her brother."

Winston's heart dropped. "I can't imagine," he breathed.

"I know. I don't know who she blames more: the Seeds or herself. I don't think she knows anymore, either," Joey said.

They both turned their attention to different things until Joey tapped Winston's shoe with her own. She stood up and downed her drink. "I'm going to go talk to her," Joey said.

Winston nodded and finished his own drink. Joey opened the door and turned around. "By the way," she said, getting Winston's attention again. "In case Whitehorse didn't tell you, I'll be joining you guys in the Henbane from tomorrow."

"I heard."

Joey nodded and closed the door, leaving Winston alone in the Spread Eagle. He'd heard earlier in the day that Joey was going to be moving to the jail tomorrow. She was more than capable and had long since grown tired of sticking around Holland Valley and coordinating supply routes.

Winston's thoughts drifted back to Kenny and his sister. Looking at the clock on the wall, half-past nine, he realized that Lauren's operation should have long been over with and decided to walk down the street to Jerome's church.

When he entered, the church was dimly lit by rows of red candles beyond the podium and the moonlight that filtered through the windows. Old floorboards whined under Winston's shoes as he made his way to the front row of pews, where Kenny sat, tapping his foot as his head hung. Winston slowly sat himself a comfortable distance away from Kenny.

"How is she?" Winston asked.

Kenny sat up straight. Jerome had given a fresh set of clothes earlier to replace the tattered and sweaty rags he had on earlier. His long-sleeved shirt covered the tattoo John had drawn on his arm: envy.

"She's going to pull through," Kenny said.

Winston could swear by the hollow tone of his voice that Kenny didn't believe it. Like he was dreaming. He hung his head again. "Thank you."

"Of course," Winston said.

While he wasn't involved with Lauren's surgery, Jerome had told him earlier that Doctor Barnes had stabilize and, thanks to Kenny, was able to successfully administer a blood transfusion to Lauren. Additionally, her bullet wound had been cleaned and sealed after the bullet was removed.

It hadn't dawned on Winston how twisted the situation was when he was in the heat of the moment, but it bothered him to no end that the cultists would shoot a child. Lauren couldn't have been any older than thirteen and Kenny seventeen. The idea that the cult would try to murder a thirteen-year-old left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and also led him to a question.

"How?"

Winston had spoken without meaning to, drawing a curious glance from Kenny.

"I mean, how did you get here? You two are so young, so… Why?" Winston trailed off.

Winston hoped that his tone didn't sound accusatory, but if it did, Kenny didn't show any signs of offense. He shifted in the pew, gripping the edge.

"I…"

He paused. It was likely that he hadn't had much time to process the day's events, much less recount his life story to Winston. But before Winston could tell Kenny that he didn't have to say anything, he continued.

"Lauren and I lived here with our grandma. She was our only family, and she raised us as best as she could. But she was old," Kenny said, biting his lip. "I was so scared that one day she would die before I was eighteen and we'd be sent to a foster home."

Winston nodded. He was beginning to understand where Kenny was going.

"And that just couldn't happen. If it did, we'd end up separated, and I couldn't look after Lauren anymore. She's not — she's not like other people. The state would have put her away somewhere for sure, and I couldn't let that happen. She needs me to take care of her," Kenny said.

He picked at his fingers and began tapping his foot again.

"But then our grandma did die, and I didn't know what to do, so I took Lauren and ran. That's how we ended up with Eden's Gate," he said. "It wasn't easy. I didn't like it. But we were together and I could watch over her."

Kenny spoke with conviction. With every word that left his mouth, his grip on the pew grew and his knuckles had become white. Winston leaned forward and spoke softly, "So why leave?"

"They said she was useless to us," Kenny said, meeting Winston's eyes for the first time. "She couldn't work, so she had no place here. Just fucking ship her off to Faith."

He scoffed and shook his head. "That wouldn't even be a problem if I could have at least gone with her, but they wouldn't let me. No, I had to be a soldier. But I'm not a soldier, I can't even take care of my sister without fucking up."

Kenny bit down hard on his lip as it trembled. Winston could see the anger rising to the surface.

"Listen to me," he said, placing a hand on Kenny's shoulder. "You're doing fine."

Winston took a moment to consider his next words as he let his hand fall from Kenny's shoulder.

"I was in a foster home myself. Right there in Helena where I grew up. And the woman that ran the place… well, she was nice, but I gave her so much hell. I mean I couldn't even begin tell you how many talks she had with me." Winston chuckled. "I was such a bad kid. I didn't give a shit about anyone else but myself. I didn't really know how. And I think at the height of it, I was around your age. What are you, sixteen?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen. So my point is, you're more of a man now than I was at seventeen. Taking care of your sister like that? That's incredible. So don't beat yourself up so much," Winston said.

Kenny took a deep breath. His shoulders slumped as his body relaxed. "I just don't know what to do now. I'm not eighteen. I can't legally take care of my sister. And even if I was, I don't have a job, I don't have a home. And I was with Eden's Gate. I brought Lauren there with me. I'll never—"

"Stop," Winston said. "When this is all over, we'll figure things out. I'm sure we'll be able to work out some sort of arrangement for you and your sister. If anything, I know Jerome will come up with something."

"He's a good guy," Kenny said thoughtfully, looking at the vacant pulpit.

"He is. So don't worry about the future. Focus on right now. Your sister needs you, okay?" Winston rose to his feet and extended his hand.

Kenny swallowed and shook Winston's hand. "I know. I'm not going anywhere."

Winston nodded and offered a small smile.

"By the way," Kenny said. "What's your name?"

Winston laughed softly. "Ah, right. Sorry. It's Winston. The woman who treated your sister first is Grace."

"I wanted to thank Grace, but I haven't been able to find her," Kenny said, looking around as if Grace would show up.

"I'll let her know what you said," Winston said.

Kenny seemed satisfied with that, but pursed his lips as he looked at Winston again. It was as if he was trying to place him like he had maybe seen him before. It turned out he was. "You're that deputy people have been talking about, aren't you?"

By people, Winston assumed Kenny meant Jacob's people. He could only imagine the things Jacob had said about him to his soldiers. Probably something along the lines of 'Shoot on sight, and don't hesitate for even a second,' judging by the encounter earlier in the afternoon. Which, now that he thought about it, would actually be kinder than anything John had said. But thinking about what John and Jacob said about him led him to wonder what Faith said about him. He was sure it was be interesting.

Realizing he had fallen into another mental hole, Winston responded, "That's me."

Kenny leaned back into the pew for a moment, a thoughtful spark in his eyes. "You know, you're not bad like Eden's Gate says you are."

Winston laughed. "I hope not. Take care, Ken," he said as he started for the church exit.

"You too."

When Winston left the church and faced the chilled north wind, he couldn't help but think about what Kenny said to him. For a moment, he looked back at the church and felt warm about what he had done that day. Too many nights did he lay awake thinking about what he could have done or what he should have done. Today, though, he knew for sure that he made a difference.