America crouched down behind some brush. The grass barely made a sound beneath her feat. She paid attention to the wind and felt that it was blowing against her face. Good.
She raised up her bow and ever so silently pulled back on the string. It made a slight noise from the tension but did not alert the target.
A great buck stood on top of the hill, grazing, in front of the horizon. One of the best specimens she'd ever seen. Its fur was black, its legs muscular, and its rack was perfectly shaped and healthy. Wall-trophy material.
She aimed and took her time. Her fingers and arm ached from the strain of the bow, but she needed to make this shot perfect. Inhaling, her arm finally settled and release.
The arrow soared and struck the buck in the torso. It fell back with a piercing whine and America rushed to check on her kill.
The sight of it was lost when she ran up the hill, but no doubt it would be there when she got to the top. But when she did make it over the hill . . . she found no buck. But she did find the arrow . . . lodged in the brain of a cultist.
She gasped and backed away, only to halt when a bloody hand grabbed her leg. A cultist with blood leaking from a hole in his head like a faucet.
"Murdereeerrr . . ." He wheezed.
America recognized him as Ralph, the cult lieutenant from Dutch's Island.
The deputy screamed as she pulled out her pistol and shot him in the head for the second time. His head exploded like a melon-no-a grenade. Nothing but red blinded her.
She rubbed the liquid-life from her eyes, feeling unclean in more then the regular sense. When she finally regained sight, there was not a speck of blood on her and she was in new surroundings.
Fall's End. "How did I—" She spun around and found the little town set ablaze. Uncontrollable fires everywhere, turning the town to ash in the slowest, most painful way possible. Black smoke rose to the sky, blocking out the sun and choking the life out of nature.
And if that wasn't enough, what the ashes of the town fell upon were the remains of the people of Fall's End. Dead, maimed, and desecrated. Their bodies left to rot and to wither away. America tried to scream in horror, but for some reason she couldn't.
She looked up and the next sight made her even sicker. There, before her very eyes, were Mary May, Pastor Jerome, and Sherriff Whitehorse—CRUCIFIED—nailed to crosses. Bleeding, as lifeless as one would expect from such a torturous event.
America fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her face as she cried for all the innocent lives lost. She failed. Her failure. She couldn't protect them. Couldn't save them. Couldn't fight for them.
Failure.
Failure!
FAILURE!
Why couldn't she SCREAM?!
Behind the crucified innocents, behind the wall of smoke and ash, came out four individuals riding on horseback.
One rode on a red horse. Grizzled and muscular, with hair of the same color as his horse. On his back was a longbow and claymore, weapons that would devastate all who would oppose him. At his sides were predatorial beasts and chained slaves. Animals and people that he subjugated through blood and violence. War.
The second rode a black horse, majestic looking, but sinister, both the rider and horse looked. In his hands was a golden scale. He raised it as if to judge her. Behind him were spoils of war, taken from the hands of the people. Food, valuables, and children. He starved them of mind, body and soul. Famine.
The third was a she-rider and rode a pale horse. Both rider and the horse were like wraiths, skinny and sickly looking. Decrepit and diseased would be the best way to describe the rider, as she looked like a rotting corpse, dressed, mockingly so, in beautiful white Sunday dress. Around them was a green fog that seemed to sap the life from all around them, giving them strength, only to lose it in mere seconds to sickness. But it never killed. They left just enough life to make the living suffer. Pestilence.
The final rider rode a white horse. Out of all the riders he stayed the farthest back but left the most impact. Because behind him was a wake of bodies that stretched as far as the eye could see. He was the beginning and the end to things. He watched the horsemen do their work, while he reaped the benefits. Atop his head, above all his shroud of shadows, was a golden victors crown. As if to say to all that HE was the true king of them all. Their conqueror. Death.
Death raised his finger and pointed at her. In a deep, raspy voice, he said one word that shook her to her core.
"YOU . . ."
He pulled down his hood and revealed his face.
America shot out of her bed with a scream on her lips.
She panted raggedly as the image of the four horsemen were burned into her mind despite it being just a dream. Why did people always remember the nightmares and never the pleasant dreams?
Suddenly, Boomer invaded her vision. She felt a wet tongue sliding across her face, immediately waking her up and giving an annoyed look at the mutt.
One look from his cute puppy face though and she couldn't hold that annoyance for long. Boomer whined at her in concern.
"I'm okay Boomer." She pats his head. "Just a nightmare."
There was a sudden knock on her door and from outside was Mary's voice.
"Deputy, are you okay?" Mary asked urgently.
America swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat. "Yeah. Come in."
Her door opened and in walked the beautiful barkeep. She smiled, which brightened America's mood and wiping away some of the stress from her nightmare. In her arms were some fresh clothes.
"I heard you scream." The barkeep was uncertain whether to pry or not.
"Just nightmares. That's all." America assured.
Mary nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I know what that's like. If you ever need to talk . . . I'm here."
America didn't say anything, but she did give a genuine smile and nod back.
"These are some of my old clothes that I don't wear anymore. I figured you'd like a new change of clothes considering . . . well . . ."
The two looked down at the clothes that America got from Dutch. All over them were cuts and holes, with splatters of mud and blood here and there. She only had the clothes for a day and they were already ruined.
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
"No problem." The blonde smiled.
America rose from her bed and revealed her bare breasts to the bar owner.
"Oh! Uh . . . I'll give you some privacy. Come down stairs for breakfast and we'll go over strategies to take on the cult." Mary left the clothes on the dresser and quickly left.
The Deputy chuckled. "Heh. She's adorable."
She put on a pair of cargo pants and then slipped on a purple tanktop. America was a little surprised to see a bullet-proof vest among the pile of clothes. She strapped that on after putting on a pair of sneakers.
She left her room, following Boomer down the stairs and found Pastor Jerome, Merle, Mary May, and Doug Gardner leaning over a map on a table. When America reached the bottom Casey, the cook, came out from the kitchen with a plate of bacon and eggs.
He handed America the plate and presented it to her with a smile that was equally warm and fresh. "Eat up, we need you to keep up your strength."
America took the plate thankfully. "Thanks, Mr. Fixman."
"Please, Mr. Fixman was my father. My friends call me Casey."
"Thank you, Casey."
"Your welcome. Eat up now, we won't have much of that left." He pointed to the bacon before heading back to the kitchen.
America joined her fellow Resistance members at the table. They all greeted her morning.
"Morning, everyone. How's the arm, Merle?"
"Still messed up. Won't be driving my Death Wish for a while."
"That and because it's totaled." Mary said.
"Don't remind me." Merle grumbled.
"Good of you to join us Deputy. We're just going over the current situation." Jerome explained in his deep, soothing voice.
"Lay it on me, Pastor, what's going on?"
Mary decided to be the one to answer. "After your little revolution yesterday, John's been upping the ante." She pointed to several spots on the main road that encircled Fall's End. "He's set up road blocks all over the Main Road, trying to keep us in like sheep."
"He's also got everything from the scrapyards to the farms turned into outposts for the cult." Doug said. "Some new refugees told me that the cult is harvesting these places, squeezing them dry of resources to be stored in John's Bunker. According to them several families are being held hostage."
"Fuck." America cursed. "How are we on resources?"
"Could be better . . . could be worse." Mary summed it up.
"We need more food!" Casey shouted from the kitchen.
"He's right." Mary agreed. "We saved what we could from the cult, but they've been bleeding us dry for months—long before this recent assault."
"How much we got?"
"Overall? About a week's worth. But if we intend to save more people then that number will drop fast." Mary answered the Deputy.
America leaned on the table to get a better look at the map of Holland Valley. The entire region was flatlands, with several farms spread all over. But there were still sections of forestry where game was common, especially in the north and southern sections. They would need to cut through the peggies though to get there. Thankfully there were rivers all around.
"Do we have any experienced hunters in Fall's End? Fishermen?"
"We got a few." Jerome answered. "But it's not safe for them to go out alone with the peggies lurking around."
"Make sure then they travel in groups of two or three. Fish, deer, boar whatever they can get, but warn them that if the peggies are too much to handle, drop everything and get to safety."
Jerome smiled approvingly and nodded.
"Boomer and I freed Gardenview yesterday. Can we rely on them for food too?" America questioned.
"Sure. Thanks to the cult we already have several apples plucked and ready for shipping. Though we'll need some protection to make sure the food gets to the town safely. But I should remind ya'll that we don't have an unlimited source. So Gardenview can't supply the whole Resistance."
"My people are close by." Merle said. "They'll make sure you guys get to your destination safely." Doug nodded gratefully.
"If we can liberate the other farms then you won't have to be the only one supplying us." Jerome said, and he pointed to three locations. "Sunrise Farm, Woodson Pig Farm, and Kellett Cattle Co. were the only other farms that didn't submit to the cult. If we liberate those three, we can feed our people much better and starve the cult at the same time."
"A little taste of their own medicine. I like it." Merle perked up.
"We're also going to need more weapons and ammo. As well as extra hands to hold them." Jerome added.
"Loot the bodies of the peggies." America suggested simply.
"I like the way you think, Deputy." Merle grinned.
"First we got to turn the peggies into corpses, Deputy." Mary said sardonically. "Not as easy as it sounds. No, the fastest way would be to recruit people that already have a vast majority of weapons and ammo."
"Grace Armstrong . . ." Jerome said somberly.
"Wendell Redler." Merle said next.
"Armstrong . . . the woman that took bronze in the Olympics?"
"The very same. If you think Boomer's famous, Grace is the reason Hope County had a boom in business and publicity."
Boomer was lying underneath the table. He raised his head and whined curiously from hearing his name.
"The sad part is her home was burnt down the night the peggies went crazy."
"Crazier." Merle added.
"And no one's seen her since. Damn shame, we could use those military sharpshooter skills of hers right now." Jerome lamented.
"So, Wendell's our best shot at better weapons." America looked at Mary inquisitively. "Wendell's a former soldier, a veteran of the Vietnam War. Rumor has it he's got a huge stash of weapons and ammo on his property. If it's true and I'd bet a whole bottle of whisky that it is, then we need to get in contact with him."
"It's not a bad idea." Merle hummed, stroking his handlebar mustache. "I'll get Dutch on the horn, he's a friend of Wendell's, and have him tell Wendell that we're sending someone to him."
"Where's Wendell live?" America asked.
Mary pointed to the location in the south-eastern part of the map.
"I'll go. My house is close by there—I've got some guns and ammo the people can use."
"Peggies got be skulking all around there after what you did." Merle warned.
"Maybe so, but I got to risk it." America said adamantly.
"Just be careful America, we can't lose you."
"Mary's right." Jerome agreed. "You've given these people hope. If we lose you morale will plummet all the way down into hell."
"And then we'll follow not long after." Mary said darkly.
"Your concern is appreciated, but it's my job to put my life on the line for you people." They all gave her an uneasy look. "I'll be careful! I don't intend on dying if I can help it. Just trust me everyone."
They all seemed to accept that, if just a bit hesitantly.
"Ahh, I'm not worried." Merle waved his good hand good naturedly. "You helped out both the Silver Lake and Gardenview, plus liberated a whole State Park Island. All in one day! She's got this everyone." He said confidently.
His words perked everyone up and had them all nod in agreement.
"Thanks, Merle." America said appreciatively. "Now what's left to talk about?"
"Trucks!" Merle suddenly blurted out, startling a few of them. "We need big, four-wheeled, mother-honkin' trucks!" There was a pause after his outburst. "Plus equipment and tools to repair them."
"He's right." Doug confirmed. "We don't have too many vehicles and most of them aren't in the best shape."
"What about the garage here in town?" America asked.
"What stuff we managed to save from the peggies isn't enough to last." Mary replied. "We're going to need WAY more if we're to go up against the cult's forces."
"And I know just where to look!" He pointed a fat finger to a place called the, "US Auto."
"It's kind of a junk yard, as well as a mechanic." Jerome explained.
"The peggies are using the place to repair their convoys. Taking that place will hurt them and help us."
The Rookie-Cop eyed the place. "Didn't you say Eden's Gate has a lot of patrols and road blocks on the main road? That's a lot of peggies between us and US Auto."
"Like you said: it's worth the risk." Merle threw back.
"I may have a way to deal with all the . . . 'traffic.'" Mary said vaguely.
"What do you mean?"
Mary let a pause settle between them before she answered. "The Widowmaker."
"What the hell's the Widowmaker?"
"My dad's big rig. He was one of the first to stand up to the cult. Anytime they came into town to start up trouble, he'd hop into that truck and chase 'em out. He loved that truck . . . and those fuckers stole it from him a week before he passed." She said somberly, with a hint of fury behind her voice.
"I know you miss him, Mary. A lot of folks around here do." Jerome comforted.
"He was one of the good ones." Merle lamented. "Really knew how to put the screws to bastards like the Seeds. Took shit from no one, no how!"
Mary sniffed and composed herself. "Listen Deputy, if there's one thing the cult is afraid of it's that truck. Get it . . . and you'll give Eden's Gate another reason not to fuck with us."
The Deputy looked at the beautiful blonde and saw the loss . . . and the resolve in the woman's eyes. It was intoxicating and if this truck was as revered and feared as everyone said it was, then it had to be worth it.
"Where is this Widowmaker?"
The meeting was adjourned, and the Resistance Leaders split to perform their duties. Pastor Jerome and Merle stayed behind to watch over the town and direct the hunters and gatherers, Doug returned to Gardenview with a contingent of men to protect him on the way and Mary May was planning an assault on Sunrise Farm.
America packed up all the supplies she needed. Jerky and water to keep her fed and hydrated on the road. She strapped her silver revolver, Judgment, to her hip, the double-barrel rifle, The Farmhand, and the lever-action rifle, Fall's Ghost, to her back and stuffed a couple sticks of dynamite and some throwing knives in her bag. Boomer let out a couple of barks to remind her he was here, so she scratched his head to thanked him for his company.
She took a truck and headed south. She passed by many cultists prowling the roads and hoped that they wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. Her hopes went unrealized as she skidded the truck to a stop when ahead of her, at a fork in the road, a road block was set up.
Four armed peggies saw her and raised their weapons, but they didn't fire. They did approach though.
"Shit."
"Step out of the car!" One of the cultists ordered.
America did as they said, but first she rolled down the window before opening it. She made sure to keep her gun hidden. She didn't close the door when she stepped out.
"Close the door!"
"O-okay!" She tried to sound frightened to lull them into a false sense of strength. "D-d-don't s-shoot! I'll come quietly."
"That's good." The lead cultist said pleased. They came closer, some even lowered their weapons a little. "John likes obedience. I'm sure your sins will-"
He didn't get to finish as America whipped out her prized pistol with the skill of an old western cowboy. The first shot blew a hole in the lead cultist's head. The second shot punctured a hole in another peggie's chest, and the third got a cultist in the shoulder.
The first one died, but the second was downed, while the third and fourth were able to retaliate. The Deputy hid behind her car door, the bullets dinged against and perforated the door. It held up, but it wouldn't for long. Peeking from the side, America saw the third Peggie, the one shot in the shoulder, try to drag the downed cultist to safety, while the farthest cultist, who stayed back to defend the position, continued to suppress her with gunfire.
Boomer barked at her and threw to her Fall's Ghost.
"Thanks Boomer!" She peeked out of hiding and fired at the farthest back cultist. When he ducked down into cover, the Deputy fired on the injured cultist. She got him with the last bullet.
While she reloaded her weapon, she heard the last remaining Peggie shout out "No!" and continued to fire at her. Instead of wasting the rounds, America decided to light a stick of dynamite.
She waited for the right moment. When it sounded like the Peggie stopped to reload, she lit the wick and threw it over to the barricade. It landed and rolled underneath the trucks.
The explosion made the truck blow up and the force of it caused the other vehicles to be pushed back. America aimed her rifle out of the open window. She waited a few minutes before slowly making her way over to the blockade.
She whistled. Boomer hopped out of the truck and followed. She passed by the Peggie that was shot in the chest and being dragged by his friend to safety. His eyes were dead and glassy, bled out. She walked passed the third cultist and saw him bleed from the chest—dead.
The Deputy finally made it to the blockade. The truck that was hit was smoking, a fire was burning under the hood, the tires popped, and it would take a lot of wax to buffout all the dents and scratches. It was totaled. The other two vehicles were okay though, a little dinged up, but drivable.
She went around the wrecked car and found the last cultist lying on the ground, bleeding and covered in burns and soot. His breath was shallow. From what she could tell the peggie's chest was slightly caved in from the explosion. Him coughing up blood was a good indicator.
He glared at her. He tried to say something, but it was a gargled mess, with all the blood. America kneeled down and looked him in the eye. She matched his glare for a few seconds before he coughed and wheezed his last breath.
America stared at the body for a bit longer before she let out a breath.
"My first kills of the day." She sighed.
'One of many to come.' She thoughts dejectedly.
Boomer whined and nudged her arm. She smiled and pet the dog. They headed back to the truck and continued on.
No other cultists blocked the way to her destination. She made it to her house. She slammed the car door shut and looked at her simple abode. It was a two-story house, wooden, white, with a black, pointed rooftop and L-shaped in design. A simple, black mailbox stood guard by the road, empty. Not that she was expecting any mail anytime soon. A small garden with various flowers were displayed on each side of the steps. Said wooden steps led to a thick white door, that had the number "227" displayed on it.
It wasn't much, but it was her new home . . . and it looked like the peggies hadn't come . . . yet. She looked at Boomer and saw the cattle dog was calm. He had good senses so if there was any danger, she knew her companion would have warned her.
Still though, she couldn't help to be a little on edge, so she took her time to walk up to and open the door. Didn't look like anyone broke in. She tried the knob—still locked.
Taking out the key she unlocked it and walked in.
Silence.
After about two minutes of quiet, waiting for any strange noises, she let out a held breath and walked in unworried.
All of her boxes were still in the living room, still unpacked. Furniture had arrived and had been set up, but electronics like lamps and the TV were still not hooked up.
'Good. Nothing on but Peggie bullshit.'
She walked into the kitchen and went for the fridge. She opened it and pulled out a beer. It hissed after twisting the cap off and she chugged down half the bottle to calm her nerves. America looked to her side and saw Boomer waiting for her patiently.
"Come on, boy." She led the dog to the back, where the laundry room was.
Inside the laundry room was not just a washing machine and dryer, but also a large safe that was a head bigger then her.
"Good, hasn't been tampered with." That actually surprised her. No peggies had invaded her home? She would have thought that her house would be the first place they'd check.
Putting that thought aside, she put in the code by turning the knob and unlocked the safe. Inside were several AR rifles, lever-action rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Nothing of the caliber of her current hardware, but a gun was a gun. And bullets were bullets. She pulled out several cartridges of handgun ammo, rifle rounds, and buckshot.
When the weapons were secured, she pulled out an envelope where she kept extra money. There was around $5000 dollars inside. No way would she leave this behind.
There was one last item she needed to secure, but this one was personal. In the door of the safe, secured in a leather holster, was a large bowie knife.
It was twelve inches in length, with the usual clip near the point that most bowie knives are known for. The hilt was a faded brass and the handle was made from polished ponderosa pine.
It was her Dad's knife. Passed down from his father and his father before. America remembered her Dad using it every time they went camping, whether to carve, cleave, or skin, her dad always had a use for it.
'I bet he never expected me to use it in a God damned range war.' She thought morbidly.
After strapping the knife to her belt, she loaded all the weapons and ammunition into a dufflebag and slung it onto her shoulder. Not wanting to waste any more time she headed for the door back to Fall's End.
She stopped though when she saw an open box. Two items caught her attention. A framed picture and a gold medal.
The picture was of America and her parents. Her Mom was on the right and her Dad on the left. It was the day she graduated from the academy and became an official cop. A lot of people said she took after her mother in appearance. She had brown hair and green eyes, but she also had some of her strong facial features like her wide jaw and chin. Her Dad had black hairand she had a bit of that too mixed in with her brown. But a lot of people always said she acted more like her Dad. Makes sense since her Mother was always overseas.
Putting the picture under arm, she picked up the gold medal next. On it was two boxing gloves with the "#1" stamped on. It was her first place medal in boxing and it was the second thing she was most proud of in her life. She worked hard to earn the medal and without boxing she probably wouldn't be where she is today. Hell, she would no doubt be a completely different person. Definitely not a cop.
"Grr!"
America turned her head to see Boomer facing the front door, releasing a low growl. She rushed over to the window and saw several white trucks pull up in front of the house, all bearing a black cross.
Cultists hopped out of their vehicles with one big one stomping out. The Deputy's eyes widened when she saw the flamethrower in the man's large hands. His entire outfit consisted of leather. Leather Jacket over a white fleece sweater, stamped with the cult's cross, boots, gloves, even his face mask was jet-black leather. On his back were two red tanks that fueled the flamethrower.
"Deputy Jones!" One of the peggies called out. Probably the leader of this squad. "We know you're in there! We got you surrounded. Surrender yourself now and the Father shall forgive you for your transgressions."
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" America panicked. She spun around the room looking for anything to give her protection. There were too many guns and the flamethrower would incinerate her house in minutes.
"This doesn't have to end in violence. The Father is a kind, compassionate man . . . John Seed can convince you of that. Come with us and he will show you the way of the Father."
Ignoring the ranting, America tossed over the couch and a desk, erecting a makeshift barricade. She ran into the kitchen and found several bottles of whiskey. I quick look outside and she saw three cultists waiting outside for her. Without thinking she grabbed ahold of the fridge and pushed it to its side, making it lean down on the counter in front of the door. They wouldn't be able to flank her that way.
"Father Joseph only wants to help you Deputy Jones. But you have to let him."
The Squad Leader looked to the Flamer and he nodded.
Grunting the flamer approached the door. "Deputy Jones, you will bathe in the light of the Father . . . whether you want to or not."
The Flamer walked up the front steps and was a mere foot from the door. He raised his leg and kicked the door with tremendous force. The door crashed open, shattering the lock and splintering the frame. The Flamer smirked, but then he was launched back by the powerful force of The Farmhand.
America smirked behind the smoking gun but was shocked to see the Flamer grunt and push himself up weakly. She aimed her shotgun again and blasted the tank on the man's back.
A fiery explosion engulfed the area in a ten-foot radius. A couple of peggies were knocked out, but others took cover and survived.
"Return fire!" The Squad Leader commanded.
The peggies let loose and bullets impacted against her house. America curled behind her barricade with Boomer. She heard glass shatter, wood splinter, furniture tear, her house being destroyed all around her. Peeking through her eyes she saw Boomer pushing his head into the ground, his paws pressed against his head, covering his eyes and being so close she could even hear him whine in fright.
The cult laid waste to her house for an entire minute before the Squad Leader finally motioned for them to cease. On the outside the house was in shambles. Bullets holes riddled the surface like a dotted painting. Smoke and dust rose from the enemy guns and smoking tattered walls.
"If by some miracle you live Deputy then throw down your weapons and come out. Patience is a virtue Joseph has taught us, but we all have our limits. One last time: Surrender."
They were met with silence. No response came from the house. The Squad Leader shouted for her again and again, but there was still no response from the house. No words, no bullets.
After a while the Squad Leader sent some of his men in to see if she was alive. They walked through the destroyed door and into the living room. Slowly, they made their way to the barricade and found nothing behind it.
"She ain't here!"
"Search the house!" The Squad Leader ordered. "She hasn't gone around so she must still be there!"
They did as commanded and started searching the whole house. They split up, three going upstairs, three staying downstairs.
The ones headed upstairs took slow, careful steps, cautious that the Deputy could attack them from anywhere. When they reached the top of the stairs, they found a hallway with three doors.
What caught their attention the most though was the hatch to the attic, which was wide open.
The head cultist motioned for them to be quiet and to check the rooms. They did as instructed and each took a door. Each turned a knob and pushed a door open. Their guns still trained, they went a step at a time to enter the room.
The first one found the restroom. He checked the closet but found it too cramped and full of towels to be a hiding place. He went near the bathtub and slowly reached for the curtains. Then he quickly pulled them open to reveal it empty. This brought a sigh of relief to him.
The second found the master bedroom. There was not much in there save for the bed. He checked under it but found it empty. The last place he looked was in the closet. He pulled it open quickly and found nothing but a hamper full of dirty clothes.
The third had found what he assumed was a spare room. It was completely empty. Save for a few boxes in the middle that were too small to hide in or behind. He checked with his brothers and they each gave him the clear.
So, the only last place to look was the attic.
One cultist took point, with the other two behind him on his left and right. One by one they all walked up the ladder and into the attic. Like most of the house, the place was empty, but there were dark corners that people could hide in.
The lead cultist walked over to the window and opened the blinds, letting light shine through. It brightened the whole room and revealed it to be completely empty. All of them were confused. They checked every room upstairs; the attic was the only place left. Where could she be?
Suddenly there was a loud slam and the three ran toward the hatch. It was closed shut and they couldn't open it!
"Hey!" One banged on the hatch.
"Let us out!"
"What happened?"
America smiled at the closed hatch, trapping the three cultists in the attic. It was fortunate that she hadn't unpacked everything when she moved in. It left the spare room empty and made the cultist ignore it without taking hardly three steps in. She had hid behind the door, knife drawn and waited for any action to be had.
"She's upstairs!"
"Shit!"
All the commotion unfortunately drew the attention of the other cultists. One of them, armed with a knife came at her.
America drew her Dad's Bowier Knife and deflected the cultist's knife. She jumped back from one swing, then dodged under another. She then flipped her knife in a backhand position and swiped across the cultist's stomach. He stumbled back, clutching his gut trying to keep his organs in. America took her opening and charged forward, planting her knife in the man's chest.
Another cultist came up the stairs and readied to shoot. America tried to stay behind the fallen cultist and use him as a human shield. That was when Boomer leaped out of the bedroom and grabbed ahold of the peggie's gun. The good boy ripped it out of his clutches allowing America to pull out her knife and chuck it at the next cultist head.
The man grasped the knife and fell to his knees, dead. That was when the next cultist came up. America pulled out Judgement and fired three shots into him. She advanced forward to retrieve her knife, shooting two more that came up the stairs.
Boomer came to her, a new gun for her collection in his mouth. On his head were a pair of her red panties, definitely from the basket he was hiding in in her bedroom. She giggled and took them off, stuffing them in her pocket.
She heard stomping up the stairs and readied Fall's Ghost to take them all out.
Outside, the Squad Leader could hear the chaos. Mainly, he could hear guns going off and the sound of men screaming before being silenced by more gunshots.
"Shit!" The Squad Leader shouted. "Hewes, burn it down!"
"But—but our brothers are still in there." Hewes stuttered.
"They know what they signed up for! They will die in the name of Father Joseph and be welcomed by the Lord Above for their bravery."
"B-But—but—"
The Squad Leader turned on Hewes, his face a contortion of fury. "Am I hearing defiance in you Hewes?" He got closer to Hewes, close enough to be touching nose to nose, staring the trembling man down. "Going against the Father's very will? Does John need to know your resolve is faltering?"
Hewes broke out into a sweat and shakily tried to light the cloth-stuffed bottle of alcohol. Once he got the lighter to spark, he silently prayed for forgiveness and threw the Molotov cocktail.
It shattered against the house and set forth a blaze that spread over the entire domicile within seconds.
"I am sorry brothers!" The Squad Leader called out. "At least you die by the Holy Blaze of Father Joseph, instead of by the cold steel of that sinner."
America fired the Farmhand forcing the cultists to keep their heads down. She ducked into her bedroom to reload and that's when she smelled the smoke.
"Shit! Bastards lit my house on fire!"
The fire and smoke were spreading everywhere. All around her was the growling of fire or the shouts of Eden's Gate cultists.
"The house is on fire!"
"Let's get out of here!"
"Wait, we're trapped!"
"Please, help!"
"I don't want to die!"
It disgusted her how much the cult was willing to sacrifice its own. They talk about love and acceptance, but how quickly they discard others. Just another sign of how hypocritical Joseph and his cult were.
But she couldn't focus on that now. She needed to escape before the fires reached her. She could run for the exit, but the peggies would be waiting to shoot her the moment she stepped through the front door. Looking around, she had only one idea. One plan of attack and it was stupid.
"Okay, Boomer, listen up." The cattle dog gave his undivided attention. He was actually very cool given the position they were in. "We're going out that way." She pointed to the window, the dog let out a confused whine. "I know it's dumb, but we don't have much choice."
"Bark! Bark!"
"It's either burn alive or—wait, why the fuck am I talking to you like I know what you're saying?"
Boomer turned his head cutely in confusion. America shook her head in both bemusement and hysteria.
"I'm losing my damn mind—fuck it! Follow me or find a way out of here, Boomer!"
America walked to the far end of the room. She rubbed the tattoo on the back of her neck, giving her strength and courage to do this next completely insane thing. Making sure that the dufflebag was secure one last time, she got in a running position and the sprinted for the window.
Her arms crossed over her head and dived through the window. She tumbled onto the roof and perfectly continued to run. But she didn't have far to go and jumped off the roof. The peggies below were surprised to see someone jump out the window and the Squad Leader was the first to pay for the surprise.
America jumped off the roof and landed on top of the Squad Leader. The landing was rough, but she ignored the shock through her body and raised her boot, smashing it against the Squad Leader's head. She then whipped out Judgement and fired a round into Hewes' head, killing him instantly.
She spun her body around and fired twice at the next cultist. Turning thirty degrees more, she fired twice again at the next. From around back, two more peggies came. She fired the last bullet and killed the second to last Peggie. But now she was out of ammo and she wouldn't be fast enough to get the last one.
The Peggie raised his rifle, but out of the door came running Boomer and he grabbed the man's gun. The dog played tug of war with him for a few seconds before the hound dragged him down to the ground and snapped his jaws around his neck. The Peggie screamed out in pain before Boomer snapped his neck like a twig.
The Deputy reloaded her treasured pistol and looked back down at the cult Squad Leader. He was groaning in pain, dazed from her kick. Three streams of blood were pouring down his face. She leveled Judgment point blank against his temple.
"You won't get away with this!" He grunted. "John will reap you! He'll cleanse your soul so hard, you'll want to die for all the pain and misery you've caused. You'll beg for forgiveness, you'll beg for salvation, you'll—"
*BAM!*
Blood splattered on her face, but America didn't flinch. Behind her the house was completely engulfed in fire and it crumbled to ash, killing any cultist that was trapped and alive inside. Again, the Deputy didn't flinch. She just kept staring at the new life she just took.
Boomer did though, and he walked up to his new master with concern in his adorable eyes. He nudged her hand, causing her to look down and then look at the still burning house.
'Where will I live now.' She wondered numbly.
America looked up at the sky and noticed the position of the sun. She laughed humorlessly. It was only a little past ten.
"Come on, Boomer. The day's just starting."
She collected all the guns and ammo that the cultists had and even retrieved an intact flamethrower from the flamer. She threw them all into the back of the truck, opened the passenger door for Boomer and got in the driver seat.
The first item off her to-do-list was done. Now she needed to get more weapons.
America arrived at the Redler household and much to her shock she found several peggies dead on the ground. The place looked more like a war zone then anywhere else in Hope County. Bodies were riddled with holes, torn apart and burnt by explosions. She found signs of land mines via potholes with scorch marks surrounding them. Vehicles were upturned or on fire from the amounts of damage they've taken. If the rest of Hope County wasn't such a war zone this would raise concerns for the Deputy.
America carefully walked over all the cold corpses, hoping Boomer was good at sniffing out bombs and approached the house. Then a bullet landed near her feet after coming within ten yards of the house.
"Friend or foe?!" Someone shouted from the second floor. A woman's voice.
"Friend—Friend!" America quickly shouted, lifting her hands in the air to show she meant no harm.
"Identify yourself!"
"My name is Deputy Jones. I'm with the Resistance at Fall's End!" There was silence for a few seconds. "Please, I'm only here to talk."
The front door of the old wooden house opened. Out walked an old man with grey, stringy hair, a cowboy hat, suspenders over an ugly, yellow shirt, and spectacles. His steps were uneven, he walked with an elongated stride, but he seemed to carry himself tall with pride.
"Stand down, Cassidy!" The old man shouted above. "We got ourselves a welcomed guest this time."
Out of the window came the shooter. America's eyes widened when she saw a beautiful woman in her late twenties, wearing tight jeans that showed off her long legs, a flannel shirt that was covered by a bullet proof vest and then she saw the woman's face. Glasses over a freckled nose, green eyes staring her down intensely, and stunning neck-long, red, frazzled hair that framed a beautiful face. In her hands, gripped tightly, was an AR-C Rifle.
"You the Deputy that Dutch called ahead about?"
The old man's words snapped her out of her gawking stupor. The Deputy hoped that they didn't notice her staring. She coughed a little before replying.
"Yes. That's me. Am I to assume you're Wendell Redler?"
"I am, but most people call me 'Red.'" He confirmed. "Dutch told me Fall's End was liberated the other day, but I could scarcely believe it. Good to know we aren't the only ones holding out."
America looked behind her to see all the destruction. "Yeah. You're holding out better than most."
"So, what brings you here, Deputy?" Wendell asked.
"Two things. I'm here to get you and your . . ."
"Granddaughter."
To America's surprise the woman answered, and she had sexy a voice to go along with her beautiful appearance.
"Granddaughter . . . to safety."
"And the second thing?" The old man asked gruffly.
"We were hoping you would have weapons to spare for the Resistance."
"Ah, I see how it is. I thank you for coming this far, Deputy, but the sad news is I can't give you my weapons . . . but I'd like to."
America looked at him questioningly. "Can I ask why?"
"Because we can't get in." The girl, Cassidy, answered.
"It's a long story. See, me and my boys from 'Nam decided that we would stockpile weapons and ammo and other supplies in case that something like Vietnam would ever come to our country. We've made quite a collection over the years. Called it the Freedom Fund on account we would stay that way come hell or high water. The gears locked up safe and sound." He pointed to a shed not even twenty feet from her position.
"The problem is, the only way to get the Freedom Fund is with a code. And each digit of the code is etched on the bottom of a lighter, owned by several of my former men-at-arms."
"Why on Earth would you do that?" She questioned. Seemed counterproductive to break up the key to the only protection you built up over the years.
"We were a paranoid bunch. You'll find that's common around these parts." He answered.
She almost dreaded to ask. "So how many of these lighters do you need?"
"There's twelve total."
'Fuck!'
"And many of my friends lived all over Hope County."
'Double fuck!'
"But you'll be glad to know that my granddaughter has already gotten more than half of them."
'Fu—wait, really?'
"Wait, really?"
Cassidy gave her a roguish smirk. "Damn straight. I like to be productive, Deputy. Most of Papa's vet friends were dead or gone so I went out and got most of them before shit hit the fan and the cult went crazy."
"Wait, by "got them" do you mean . . ." did she steal them?
"I ain't saying nothin' Deputy." She sneered. "Besides, no one was using them. Just put on display, collecting dust. Me and papa will at least put them to good use."
America had no choice but to let that slide. Peggies were more threatening then some thief. Suddenly she recalled something.
"Hang on a second."
She pulled off her pack and rummaged through it. She finally found what she was looking for and pulled out a worn, scuffed, silver lighter, with a green and white star stamped on it.
"Is this one of your lighters?" She tossed it and the old man caught it expertly with one hand.
He examined the lighter and focused on the scratch-grafitti on the back.
"Fuck Communism." He chuckled. "This is Woody's lighter. Why do you have this?" his eyes settled on Boomer. "Why do you have his granddaughter's dog too?"
She couldn't stop herself from lowering her head in shame. Memories of dead bodies came flooding back. "I'm sorry. Rae-Rae's Pumpkin Farm got attacked . . . there were no survivors, except for Boomer."
She heard Cassidy gasp and Wendell cursed up a storm like Dutch did when he first heard. Boomer whined sadly at hearing his former master and home's name.
"Even the kid is . . ." He couldn't finish that sentence, but America nodded to confirm his horrors. "Fuck!"
Wanting to move away from the terrible subject, America gave them an explanation.
"I went back to their house after liberating Gardenview from across the street. Thought maybe they'd have weapons the farmers could use. Found that lighter just sitting in a bunker out behind their house. It looked important, thought maybe it could be useful."
"You have no idea." He looked under the lighter and found the number "8" etched underneath. "We're one more step closer to unlocking the Freedom Fund."
"How secure is the Freedom Fund?" She asked.
"Very. Like I said, the only way in is with the twelve-digit code. You wouldn't even be able to blast your way in. Not unless you had something powerful like a nuke."
"Good, then Mr. Redler—"
"Please, Deputy, call me Red."
"Red, will you please let me take you and your granddaughter to Fall's End where you'll be safer? You've held out for quite a long time, but the peggies seem endless. They'll just keep sending more and more until they've got you in their claws."
"You're asking me to abandon my home?"
"I'm asking you to think about your lives. Your granddaughter's life. It's beyond impressive that you've fought them off but trust me Eden's Gate is relentless. They just burnt down my home and I barely survived that encounter. I don't want you two to go through the same thing I just did."
"All the more reason why we should stay. If my home's going down, then I'll fight for it to the bitter end."
"Papa!" Cassidy walked off the roof and jumped down to the ground. She walked up to her grandpa and confronted him with a hard stare.
"Papa, I want to defend this place as much as you do. I've got so many fond memories here with you . . . but we have to face facts—we're tough, but not tough enough to face armies. We're running low on ammunition and food. I'm scared to leave you here alone to go out to get supplies or to get the remaining lighters. I don't want to lose this house, but I don't want to lose you more." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Her eyes were on the brink of crying. "So please, live a little bit longer and let's go with the Deputy."
Red stared at his granddaughter for a long while before sighing in defeat. "Okay darlin', you win. Deputy give us a while to pack everything up into our truck. We'll let you lead the way to Fall's End."
"Thank you, Red." America smiled. Unbeknownst to the two, it was more of a relief then they realized.
It took half an hour for the Redlers to pack up all they needed. The weapons, the ammo, the food, and the clothes. Anything the cult could take to use against them. Then there were the personal belongings. Wendell and Cassidy quickly ran around the house taking a few treasured pictures, war medals that Wendell held dear, and the jewelry that belonged to Cassidy's grandmother. The lighters, they packed up in a small, silver briefcase, sealed with a combination lock.
Outside America kept watch while she waited. She was so thankful that the Redlers were listening to her. She couldn't get the weapons from them just yet, but she honestly cared more about the people then possessions. Looking at Boomer, the hound was watching with her. Every time she looked at the dog it was a reminder of how she was too late to save Rae-Rae and her family. The sight of a mother and father clutching their dead son kicked her to the point of making her want to puke.
"Deputy!" Cassidy called from around the house. "We're all set."
America picked herself up and walked around the Redler house to the garage. It slowly opened up and presented an old pickup truck that had been very well taken care over the years . . . and armed to the teeth.
The truck was a 1956 Hierarch Force. It was military green, with the American flag painted on the side doors. The back bed was long and held a large M.50 Cal machine on top, complete with shielding.
"Pretty nice, huh?" Cassidy said. "Papa got it at an auction years ago. This baby was owned by a Colonel from the Vietnam War. Col. Banh I think his name was."
Red was already in the driver seat, waiting to head out. Cassidy, after loading the last bit of their stuff, jumped into the back and got on the mounted gun.
"Ready when you are, Deputy!"
America smiled and went back to her truck. Boomer hopped back into the passenger seat and stuck his head out the window as soon as they drove off.
It was almost a minute after they left they were beset by Eden's Gate cultists. But thanks to the gun mounted on the Redler's truck, they were more of a nuisance then a threat. Cassidy put an end to many drivers with just a few shots from her machine gun, making the roads a bit safer for the Resistance. They made it back to Fall's End pretty easily.
America radioed and signaled the guards of her arrival. They let them through and parked the vehicles in front of the Spread Eagle. Jerome and Mary walked out to greet them.
"Welcome back, Deputy." Jerome said.
"Red! Good to see you're okay." Mary hugged Wendell, then acknowledged Cassidy. "Cassidy, I'm glad you're safe too."
"What no hug for me?" She said in mock hurt, holding her arms open for a hug that would never come.
"Last time I did that you grabbed my ass." Mary said wryly.
"Eh, worth it." She shrugged.
"Where's Merle? I didn't see him at the garage taking care of the Death Wish." America asked.
"Got kicked out for annoying the mechanic too much. Went with the fishers." Jerome answered.
"He said he was feeling pretty useless, so he went out to fish and blow off steam." Mary checked her watch. "Should have made it to the river by now."
"How did the search for weapons go, Deputy Jones?" Jerome asked.
America showed off the dufflebag. "Sorry, this was all I could bring." She set the bag down near her feet. "The cult tried attacking me as soon as I arrived. Burned my house down."
Mary winced. "I'm sorry, Deputy."
"I saved the important stuff." She tried to reassure. "Anyways, Red here can explain to you about the weapons he has. I need to head over to the Woodson's Pig Farm."
"You shouldn't go alone, Deputy." Mary stopped her. She was worried now after hearing about the deputy's house. "You should bring backup."
"Boomer's my backup." She pointed her thumb behind her. At that moment Boomer was chasing his tail. "Besides, we hardly have anyone to spare. Fall's End needs to be protected above all else."
There would have been more arguing, but someone intervened.
"I'll go with ya."
Everyone looked to Cassidy's direction.
"What? I got sharp eyes and a quick trigger finger. I'll watch your back for ya."
"No, Cassidy!" Red vehemently tried to stop his granddaughter. "The Deputy's heading out to kick the hornet's nest. It's not like your usual sneaking around and stealing shit."
Cassidy placed her hands on her grandad's shoulders and gave him a reassuring smile. "Relax, Papa, you know I can handle myself. I'll be alright. Besides . . . Boomer'll watch my back."
Everyone looked down at the dog to see him licking his balls.
"I say let her, Red." Mary agreed. "She can definitely handle herself. Plus, Deputy Jones will keep her out of the worst trouble. Ain't that right Deputy?"
"I won't let any harm come to her sir." America reassured.
Red let out a defeated sigh. "I'll hold that to you, Deputy."
Before they left, they stopped by the store to pick up some ammo. America grabbed several rounds for her pistol and shotgun. She still had enough rifle rounds for the Fall's Ghost, but Cassidy got more of those rounds for her rifle.
They got into America's truck and headed north-east. America was driving, Cassidy took the passenger seat, and Boomer was snuggled between them.
Silence passed between the lot of them. They tried turning on the radio to pass the time but found only P.E.G. Radio and they didn't want to listen to that brainwashing bullshit. After a long time of no talking America decided to break the ice.
"So, you copped a feel of Mary May's ass?"
Cassidy looked over to the Deputy and gave her an incredulous look. America ignored it and just kept her eyes on the road. The redhead shrugged and responded indifferently.
"Yeah. So? You want to arrest me to for sexual harassment?"
Silence once again took over, but only for a moment. America's reply would catch Cassidy off guard.
"How was it?"
Cassidy nearly broke her neck looking back to the Deputy. She saw the brunette blush and refused to make eye contact, keeping her sight squarely on the road. Cassidy couldn't help but smile cheekily.
"Nice . . . round . . . and firm. Mmm-MM! Why do all the good-looking girls have to be straight?"
"Especially the blondes."
"Especially the blondes." Cassidy nodded coolly.
They both giggled at their mutual agreement.
"You lived in Hope County long?" America asked. "I just moved here three days ago."
"Shit. Sucks for you. Me? I've only been around—mmm, about a month. Papa was talking about the cult getting more and more restless. I was worried about the old man, so I came out here to give him a hand. When I arrived, he was dug in like he was preparing for a war." She shook her head. "Apparently the cult's been harassing my Papa for weeks. They don't care for military types. Especially vets—Vietnam vets especially.
America shook her head in disgust.
"Can you believe it?!" Cassidy started ranting. "These bastards judge my Papa and his buddies, while they're doing the exact same atrocious shit that was performed in Vietnam. Hypocritical motherfuckers! Have you heard the rumors that their pouring drugs into the water and land?"
"Kind of."
"Well I wouldn't be surprised if they were!"
"We'll stop them Cassidy." America said assuredly. Cassidy looked to the Deputy and saw the resolve in her brown eyes. "I swear we will stop them."
Cassidy smiled. "You're one of the good ones."
"What?"
"I've met a lot of shitty cops in my life, hell some of the shitty cops joined the cult, but you didn't. You've been trying to save the people, instead of looking out for yourself. You're risking your life for us."
"I'm just . . . trying to do my job."
"Heh heh, bullshit. If you were just doing your job, then you would have arrested me for taking those stupid lighters."
"Murderous cult I think takes precedence over thieves and ass-grabbers."
Cassidy laughed raucously the whole way to the pig farm.
They stopped the truck a mile from the farm and trekked the rest of the way on foot. Following a map, they cut through the woods and came to a cliff that overlooked the entire farm. The peggies were of course occupying it.
"What do you see down there?" America asked, looking through binoculars.
"Assholes. Nothing but assholes." Cassidy said, also looking through binoculars.
Two adults were kept on the far side of the farm, near a shed. A teenage boy was separated from them and kept alone near the piled-up furniture and belongings. If there were more hostages, they couldn't see them.
"I count four peggies, three hostages, but there could be more in the house. They got the whole family tied up and the dog locked up in a cage."
There were no other animals, save the dog. They must have taken the livestock already.
"Check it out, they got one of those douchebags with the flamethrower."
They looked down and saw one of the flamers setting fire to the pig pens. There were no pigs thankfully, but they were making sure the Woodsons wouldn't be able to farm there again.
"Bastards. It's not enough that they kick people out of their homes and businesses, they have to make sure no one ever has a livelihood again."
"That's why we're here. We'll stop them."
"And how do you propose we do that, Miss police woman?"
"With stealth. Boomer and I will head down, you stay here and keep an eye out with that rifle of yours. Think you can do that?"
"Roger dodger." She gave a mock salute.
"Don't fire unless I give you this signal." She held her hand close to her head and clenched it into a fist. "We don't want to alert them. They'll kill the hostages if they see us coming."
"I got it. I got it. Now go already, I don't like the way that flamer is eyeing the dog."
"Come on, Boomer."
Boomer followed behind America as she crept toward the farm. She hid behind some bushes and waited for the opportunity to head into the house. She wanted to make sure there weren't anymore hostages.
A cult member walked out of the house, rifle in arms, and walked around the house to the pig pen.
No cultist was looking her way, so she snuck over to the front door. Peering inside she saw a Peggie beating a poor, tied up woman. He was slapping her hard, knocking her to the floor, and then picking her up to do it again. He was demanding she tell him where their valuables were. From the looks of the dark bruising, she's been getting hit for a while.
Thinking quickly, America grabbed a rock from the gravel. She slowly opened the door so that it wouldn't creek and tossed the rock across the room. It clattered against the wall and took the cultist's attention away from his hostage. He went to investigate the noise in the hall. America slowly crept up, knife in hand, but the floors were too creaky, and her position was compromised.
The cultist twirled around after hearing the floor squeak, but he became dazed when America threw her knife and instead of hitting blade first, it was the pommel instead. The man yelled out, but before he could alert anyone, America charged and struck the man in the face, knocking him to the floor. She then wrapped her arm around the man and violently chocked him. The man struggled to breath and desperately tried to fight back. A little more tightening of the arm and America broke his neck.
"Thank you! Thank you! Oh God, thank you!" The woman cried.
America shushed her. "Please, keep you voice down. We don't want to draw attention." She looked around to see if anyone was coming. When the coast was clear she unbound the woman. "Keep low, my friends and I've got this."
"Hey, Oliver, how's it going with that sinner?"
A cultist was coming.
"Shit!" Thinking fast again she convinced the woman to be a hostage again. She didn't need to be bound, but she did need to kneel and keep her hands behind her back.
The woman was scared, but gathered her courage and agreed, nonetheless. America quickly hid by the side of the door and waited.
"Oliver?" She heard the stomping of boots on the deck. "Oliver can you—" There was a shadow through the screen door. "Oliver!" He ran in. "What happened to Oliver sinn—KAR!"
America grabbed the Peggie from behind and stabbed him in the chest. The knife entered and reentered his body two more times before America dropped him. Unfortunately, she wasn't quiet enough.
"Jerry, what was that?"
Another cultist was coming again and this time there was no way to trick them.
"Jerry?! Something's wrong, secure the sinners! I'm heading into the house!"
America quickly kneeled down to the girl and looked her in the eyes. "Okay listen whateveryournameis, I need you to go to a bedroom and lock the door. Hide, don't let anyone in unless it's me. Go now!" She pushed her to make her move faster.
"Jerry? Oliver? Are you in there?"
America heard him come around the side so she went through the backdoor. She quickly hid behind some trashcans and spotted the farthest two cultists. They were guarding the two hostages, the parents.
"Cassidy?" America whispered into her radio. "You there?"
"Yeah."
"Do you have sights on the Flamer?"
"I do."
"Is he clear of the hostages. You may need to take him out."
"No, he's too close."
"I'll try to lead him away, just keep your sights on him."
She saw Boomer crawling through the bushes and motioned for the dog to go for the closest one. Rustling through the plants Boomer pounced on the cultist, biting into his arm and dragging him down. The second cultist aimed his gun but couldn't pull the trigger without shooting his buddy.
They shouted and yelled, drawing the attention of the others. The flamer ignored the teenaged boy and went to help his friends. When he was close enough America fired her revolver, opening the dog's cage. It ran out and started tussling with the Flamer.
Boomer managed to snap his jaws around the peggie's neck and started chewing into it. Seeing the blood spill from his friend the peggie tried to shoot Boomer, but America shot three rounds into him before he could.
"You bitch!"
The Peggie that was investigating the house found her. America charged and caught him just as he opened the door. He yelled out and dropped his gun. Pinning him between the door and the doorway, America raised her gun and fired a single bullet into the man's brain.
Suddenly she heard the whining of a dog. Going around the house she saw the family's dog get tossed aside to the ground. Boomer went to aid his fellow canine but was knocked to the ground easily.
America pulled out the Farmhand and blasted the flamer before he could barbeque the two hounds. First shot made him stumble, second shot made him kneel in pain, but didn't kill him.
The Deputy whistled and called the two dogs over to her side. Then she called to the kid to get up and hide. It was good the cult didn't bind the legs as the kid went sprinting for cover.
The Flamer finally recovered, and he was mad. America wasn't concerned, and she gave him a terrifying, toothy smile. She raised her hand, all five fingers splayed out and then she balled it into a fist.
One shot rang out, followed by a fiery explosion. America ducked behind the house along with the two hounds. A few seconds and the dust finally settled. America rolled on the ground to face the sky and she sighed tiredly.
"How many more explosions am I gonna cause today?" She breathed.
'How many more tomorrow?'
America called Jerome and informed him of the safety of the Woodsons. Jerome was overjoyed to hear that they were safe and well. America, Cassidy, and Boomer remained with the Woodson family until the escort could arrive and take them to Fall's End. They watched from the driveway as the van carrying the whole Woodson family drove off.
When they were out of sight, Cassidy asked, "What's next, Deputy?"
"Now . . ." America took out her map and turned in the opposite direction. "We clear the roads of John Seed's men."
That caught Cassidy off guard. "How the hell are we gonna do that?"
America just smiled and headed toward the direction of a Grain Elevator
. . .
"This a stronghold?" Cassidy questioned.
"No. Looks like their using this old Grain Elevator as a pit stop or storage depot."
Looking through her binoculars, America could see a bunch of peggies moving around the facility. Lots of shouts and people barking orders. They moved cages that growled and roared. A forklift passed by carrying green crates of bliss. Over by some tables, on the far end of the compound were peggies packing up food and weapons. One cultist got her attention immediately. A heavily tattooed man with messy hair and beard, wearing a thorny crown with white flowers laced through it.
"They got a VIP with them. That's great." She sarcastically said. She moved her sights onto the garage to the right. "That must be where they're keeping the Widowmaker."
"You really think this truck is going to clear the main road?" Cassidy asked.
"Mary thinks so. And if these peggies are as scared of this thing as I think they are then it'll at least be a good morale booster for the Resistance."
"What do think? Shoot our way in?"
America didn't answer right away. She watched people go into the garage and come out of it a moment later.
"Actually, let's try a different approach."
The three made their way across the road. They got behind the garage which had just one guard waiting in front of the backdoor. The problem was the tall fence between them.
"So, what's your plan?"
America looked around and then handed Cassidy a rock. Cassidy looked at the stone in her hand weirdly.
"Boomer stay here. Cassidy, when I give you the signal throw that rock to the guard's left."
America crouched and headed toward the other side of the elevator. She spotted a hole in the chain-link fence and used it to sneak inside. Showing the signal to Cassidy, the redhead chucked the rock, hitting some crates, and drawing the guard's attention.
The guard turned his head and took a few steps toward where he heard the noise. It was the last thing he did before America grabbed his head and twisted it to an odd angle violently.
Cassidy and Boomer joined America by the door. The Deputy tried to open it, but the knob was stubborn. She tried turning with more force again, but realized it was locked. Looking to her side she saw a reminder note stapled to the doorframe. It mentioned the key was always on the VIP's person.
"Great. Looks like we will have to shoot our way through Cassidy."
"Maybe not. Move aside."
Cassidy lightly pushed America out of the way and pulled out a set of thin tools. She then stuck said tools into the lock holes and started twisting and jimmying them. Creating clicking and clacking sounds.
"You know how to pick a lock?" America asked.
"Yep." Cassidy said simply.
"How do you know how to pick a lock?"
"Hmm, here . . . and there."
"Thanks for the explanation." She said drolly.
"Hey, do you want to ask me questions or do you want me to open this lock for you, so we don't have to shoot more guys?"
America took the hint and shut her mouth. But Cassidy still wanted to get one more smart remark in.
"No seriously, if you want to shoot up all these fuckers I'm down for that."
There was an audible snap from the doorknob. Cassidy twisted it and said, "Open sesame."
They walked into the office of the garage, which was thankfully devoid of peggies. In fact, the whole building was empty, save for the massive, monster of a semi-truck sitting in the middle of the whole damn place.
America had never seen anything like it before. She's seen semis of varying styles, but none so . . . patriotic as the Widowmaker. It was decorated with flames on the hood and fenders, which morphed into the American flag over a dawn like purple, with a screeching eagle on the side past the exhaust pipes. And the best part? Two, high caliber machine guns were mounted on the sides on top of the fenders. It was one of THE most beautiful and American things she had ever seen in her entire God-Blessed life.
"Okay, I'm convinced. This is definitely worth stealing." Cassidy said.
"Oh yeah." America clapped and rubbed her hands together eagerly.
"And look, the cult was kind enough to load it with all kinds of supplies." Cassidy referred to the large trailer behind the big rig.
"All the more reason to take this thing. Hop in before someone comes."
She climbed into the cab and fished around for the keys. They fell out of the sun visors and America yipped in excitement. Turning the key in the ignition the rig roared to life, spewing smoke from its stacks. The rumbling of the engine was building up the adrenaline in the Deputy's veins.
Boomer jumped in and took the middle seat. Followed by Cassidy who take the passenger seat. The redhead reached over to the dashboard and turned on the radio.
"What are you doing?"
"If we're going to bust out of here, we're doing it in style!" After fiddling with the knobs and buttons Cassidy found the right song she was looking for.
Outside the peggies could hear the sound of a deep, melodic guitar solo coming from the garage. They looked at each other as they gathered near the garage shutter. Then they heard it . . . the sound that permeated their nightmares to this day. A guttural growl of a demon that bores through their very souls and threatens to tear them asunder.
They thought the monster was under their control now . . .
That John tamed the Beast.
They were wrong.
You can never cage the Beast!
"So this ain't the end, I saw you again, Today!"
The Widowmaker burst out of the garage like the devil breaking out of hell. The cult screamed to the high heavens as the massive truck crushed most of them to death. They uselessly fired their weapons to stop it, but it just kept trucking.
The VIP, who was in charge of guarding the big rig, ran after and cried out in rage. Then he fell to his knees and whimpered in fear. John would have his skin for this failure.
"WoooooHOOOOO!"
America honked the horn a couple of times to express all the excitement she felt. She slammed on the dashboard like a drum before getting the truck's radio and calling Mary.
"Breaker, breaker, this is the Deputy callin' the Spread Eagle. Do ya copy Spread Eagle, over?"
After a while the radio crackled, and Mary responded. "This is the Spread Eagle, Deputy. What's the 411?"
"I got a little surprise for ya Mary. Here's a little hint." With her free hand she pulled the cord to honk the Widowmaker's large horn.
"Holy shit! You actually got the Widowmaker back?" Mary said ecstatically. "Cult's gonna throw everything at you now. Ram it right back down their fuckin' throats." She encouraged.
"Ten-Four, Spread Eagle! Woohoo!"
Just as Mary said, Peggies came all over trying to stop them and take back the Widowmaker, but it was laughably futile. America practically obliterated oncoming cultists. They came from the sides, out of the forests, riding on ATVs and she just plowed right through them. They quickly wised up and started coming in with trucks, trying to block her way, but she rammed them off the road, making them crash or crushing them.
America finally arrived on the main road surrounding Fall's End and she was coming onto her first blockade.
"My daddy put cannons on that thing. Don't be shy to use 'em." Mary suggested.
America wanted to slap herself. 'I forgot the guns!'
Looking on the dashboard, she found the rigged controls to operate the machine guns and pressed the big red button to fire. Like a hot knife through butter the two streams of high caliber bullets ripped apart the vehicles blocking their way and exploded in a fiery glory in mere seconds. Sending every Peggie standing near it straight to hell.
The Widowmaker pushed the wreckage aside and kept moving at high speeds. It wouldn't be long until they came up to the next blockade. America fired the guns and then once again plowed through the rest.
"Yeehaw!" Cassidy yelled.
"Bark! Bark! Bark!"
The passengers were enjoying themselves. It made The Deputy smile.
"Hey, Jones, can I fire the guns this time?"
"Sure, Cassidy." She giggled.
The next blockade they came to had a tanker blocking the way and America felt like she lost an opportunity. Cassidy giggled in gleeful sadisticness and fired the guns. The bullets impacted the tanker truck and it wasn't even three seconds before it erupted into a fiery explosion, sending both cars and bodies flying in opposite directions.
"Hit those sons of bitches." Mary cheered. Behind her voice they could hear other people cheering. "Better yet, honk that horn every time you do. So, I know when to cheer."
Both America and Cassidy looked at each other and shared a smile. America then floored it.
She crashed through anything bearing a black cross on white and if she couldn't hit it with her bumper, she turned it into swiss chees with her guns. They heard peggies yelling on the radio to stop them, but it was useless. More peggies drove out from the forest and tried to halt their charge, but a few shots from the machine guns made them veer off course.
A helicopter flew over, but it was not armed and seemed to just be tracking them. They ignored it for now and continued to decimate more cult blockades.
They were on their seventh blockade now. Heavily deep in Peggie territory. A couple of times they found civilians on the road being oppressed by the cult. With masterful driving techniques America ran over the cultists and missed the civilians. Saving the hostages.
"Deputy Jones . . ." A sickeningly calm voice came over the radio.
"Why do you refuse out message?"
America scowled and roughly grabbed the mike. "John Seed."
"Don't you see what you're doing? All this unnecessary violence? All this running around? And for what? What will it lead to? What will it accomplish?"
"Yours, your family's, Joseph, your whole God damned cult's end."
"Nothing." He ignored her response. "Nothing is what it will accomplish. You are damning these people by opposing us. If you would just accept us, if you would just convince the people, to open all your hearts to the Father, then we can save you! You can save everyone, Deputy! All you have to do is say: Yes!"
The ninth blockade was straight ahead of them. The helicopter that was buzzing around them stopped right above it. America couldn't stop the evil sneer on her lips.
"I'm not gonna tell you no, John." She said into the radio.
She practically smashed the red button, firing the guns. They ripped apart all the vehicles and exploded in seconds. Pieces of the cars launched into the air and impacted the helicopter. It spun out of control before it crashed into the ground and exploded too. The last blockade was gone.
"I'm gonna tell you Fuck No."
"You are making a mistake, Deputy." John tried to say in his calm voice. The same voice he used to display Hudson on LIVE TV. But the anger and frustration was clear as crystal. America took pride on pissing off the fucking sociopath, breaking his air.
"You were right about one thing John. I am going to save everyone. I'm going to save them from you, your fucked up family, your fucked up sheep of a people, and then I'm going to end your pussy of a brother Joseph."
" . . . . . . . . !" John was breathing heavily with so much rage now it was palpable. America could practically feel it seeping from the radio.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I got a county to save. Have a nice day Mr. Seed and go fuck Joseph's ass!"
She slammed the radio back into place and cut the connection. Cassidy and Boomer were just eyeing her, amazed by the amount of courage, stupidity, and balls it took to stand up to a monster like John Seed.
"I am so turned on right now." Cassidy murmured.
They soon got connected with Mary and Fall's End again.
"The way you're handlin' that rig would make my Dad proud, Deputy. Now bring her on home to Fall's End where she belongs."
"Ten-Four, comin' on home." America turned the wheel counter-clockwise, squishing one more Peggie head before heading back to Fall's End.
The reception they received when they returned could be called positive, but that would be an understatement. It was like a welcome home parade, with people on the sides of the road cheering and hollering in joy and triumph.
A couple of fighters led them over to the Spread Eagle and motioned for them to park on the left side parking lot. Apparently, it was where the truck used to sit since it was a perfect fit when they parked.
The truck screeched, coming to a halt. The group exited the truck and all the people around them applauded uproariously. Mary practically stumbled out of her bar, her hands cupped over her mouth. The memories of her father came flooding back and a couple tears came falling down her lithe cheeks.
America walked up to the blonde woman and offered her hand. Mary took it graciously.
Mary sniffed, wiped away the tears staining her face and pulled herself together.
"I gotta say, Deputy, seeing my Dad's truck rumblin' home sure brings back memories. I'd stand out here every time he came back—just like this—wavin' him home. Ya definitely got the grit to handle her. And more importantly . . . you got the heart. My dad would've liked you. If you ever need the Widowmaker, you don't even gotta ask."
You couldn't stop the giddy smile spreading across America's face. "Thank you, Miss Fairgrave."
"Call me Mary!" She chuckled and shoved the lawman playfully.
The rest of the day America, Mary, Cassidy, and many others spent it cleaning out the trailer behind the Widowmaker. The peggies had loaded it all up with supplies. They found various foods, like corn, tomatoes, beef, ham, grain, cereal, pasta and so much more. Then they found weapons—a lot of weapons. Rifles, shotguns, handguns, and even a couple of RPGs, much to their surprise, and ammo to go with it all. They found animals loaded in there as well, mainly dogs, wolves, and farm animals, such as pigs and chickens. In fact, most of the pigs belonged to the Woodsons and the rescued family was happy to get them back.
It was all a great haul! Casey even bragged about making a feast for tonight.
The group dispersed then, with Cassidy leaving to spend some time with her papa, but not before getting a promise out of America to bring her on missions again. America just wanted to take a load off. She placed all of her belongings that she saved from the cult and put them in the guest room that Mary granted her.
Dawn was slowly approaching, and America was sitting outside the Spread Eagle cleaning Judgement. Boomer was keeping her company, but then his attention was drawn towards the end of the street. A gold lab bounded toward the mixed breed, wagging her tail and barking eagerly.
Boomer looked up at America seeming conflicted. She laughed a bit and nodded toward the Labrador.
"Go ahead, boy. You've earned some R&R."
Boomer barked and chased after his new companion. The Deputy guessed the lab was in heat.
The thought of little mixed puppies, yapping and running all over the place caused her to giggle.
"Lucky dog, wish I had a bitch in heat too."
Wanting to distract herself from the thoughts of getting laid, America decided to patrol the outskirts of Fall's End. She started on the northern most part of the town, near the stockyards where the animals were penned. The Woodson's pigs were occupying them now. She was told that peggies were spotted around here a few hours ago.
"Hmm." She checked the dirt and grass. "No recent signs. Maybe they're backing off after the spanking I gave them with the Widowmaker."
The words had barely left her mouth when she heard a sound akin to an air rifle going off, followed by sharp pain in her neck.
"Aah!" America quickly pulled the intrusive object from her neck and saw it was a silver dart with black plumage.
"Oh shit!" Realizing what it was America quickly pulled out Judgement. If she fired a shot someone would hear and come running. But by the time she pulled the gun from her holster he arms felt like a fifty-pound weights.
Her gun fell out of her hand and she dropped with it in seconds. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, her vision was going too.
A boot entered her sight. It kicked away her gun and flipped her over. She saw a shadowy figure, but his face was too much of a blur. The figure removed all her guns and slung her limp body over his shoulder.
America blinked three times before she passed out. Each time Fall's End was getting farther and farther away.
Then all she saw was darkness.