The Inquisitor
It's a beautiful day outside. The birds are singing. Flowers are blooming. Cultists were harmonizing to their chorus music, while patrolling the Seed Ranch. Truly, a beautiful day indeed for a big breakfast with the ones you love.
Inside the ranch was the whole Seed family. Together, having a full breakfast. Complete with eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, cold milk, hot coffee, ham and hashbrowns. All made and served by John himself. The Seed's would usually have some of their followers join with them, but it had been so long since the family was together that they decided to keep the meal exclusive.
On one side was John and Faith and on the other side was Joseph and Jacob. John's plate consisted of eggs, hashbrowns, bacon and toast, with a glass full of milk. On Faith's plate was fruit and nothing else. She ate light and had an empty glass. Jacobs plate was all meat, bacon, ham, eggs, with a cup of black coffee that was half empty. And on Joseph's plate was everything John had made. Since it would likely be a long time before they can share another meal like this, he wanted to savor and appreciate everything his baby brother made.
Outside the oaken walls you wouldn't think a war was going on. That people were fighting for their lives and risking everything to see tomorrow. The Seeds laughed, they joked, they shared, they told stories . . . they looked like a normal, everyday, loving family.
Shame they were anything but.
"So, Faith, how's our dear friend the Marshal faring?" Jacob asked nonchalantly as he bit off a piece of bacon.
"Excellent!" Faith said chipperly. "Cameron felt so unfulfilled. He was so empty inside before coming to us. Now," she giggled, "now he's so full of faith and is all the happier for it."
Jacob let out a gruff chuckle. "I underestimated you Faith, I thought the Marshal was made of sterner stuff. Guess he's nothing like the Sherriff."
Faith pouted. "Don't tease me like that, Jacob. It was all Tracey's fault. Her and that useless Mayor. Were it not for them Sherriff Whitehorse would have become a part of our family."
"You'll get 'em. These so called "authorities" are nothin'. My guy, Deputy Pratt, heh heh, already starting to break."
"How wonderful!" Faith clapped her hands together. "I'm sure he'll make a great addition to the army."
Jacob sniffed. "Maybe. If not—" he stabbed his ham with his knife, "we could always use more meat."
"Please, Jacob, let me handle the gathering of food." John said mockingly.
"And how's that going?" Jacob tested. "I've heard things. Stories about a Deputy that took Fall's End from you."
"It's nothing to be concerned about, it's being handled." John tried to dismiss. "Speaking of Deputies, the one in my possession seems to be stronger then anticipated. She's refused to confess her sins even after I—"
"I heard you lost Deputy Jones, John."
Joseph's cold voice seemed to kill the joyous mood in the house. Whatever warmth that was spread through the room by their familial acts was erased completely as if it never existed. Jacob seemed indifferent to the sudden deathly silence, but Faith was looking between her two brothers nervously.
John swallowed his spit to wet his throat before speaking. "Yes, Joseph." He answered timidly, unable to hide any truth.
"And other people you had Cleansed in our holy waters. She . . . and others "liberated" them?"
"Yes, Joseph."
"I see."
"B-but I'll get them back! Especially the Deputy! It is just a slight set back. I'm already working on bringing all of Holland Valley to heel. I just need a little time and the people—Deputy Jones—will follow in your light."
"I'm glad to hear that, John." Joseph smiled. It was the most hollow smile to ever be conceived.
"I will not let you down, Joseph. I will not bring any more shame to our family."
"We know you won't little brother." Jacob said. "Your smart and clever. The people don't know how lucky they are to have you. Heck, if you'd like I can give you a few of my Judges. They should make it easy to hunt down your prey."
"I—yes, that would be helpful." John was touched by his brother's offer.
Faith was absolutely enthused. "Yes! If you'd like John, I can lend you some of my angels as well. I have so many I don't know what to do with." She giggled. "With Jacob's judges and my angels I'm sure you'll finish your reaping before the Collapse arrives."
"No."
Once again the room was forced into silence. A single word commanded from Joseph.
"Joseph?" Faith said with trembling shoulders.
"No. This is Johns task. He and he alone must accomplish it with his own two hands. The Chosen may be utilized by all of you, but that's it. John must use his own men and resources."
"B-but—but . . ." Faith tried, but the words could only be stuttered out.
"Joseph." Jacob started cautiously. "I'm a believer in self-reliance and discipline as much as the next man. But this is a war. Don't you think that John could use all the help he can get? Especially if it means he can take Holland Valley faster and easier."
"Only the heathens call it war, Jacob." Joseph's voice, recognizably, went up one decibel. "To the Project of Eden's Gate, it is a rapture. It is rescuing the misguided before God's mighty wrath wipes the slate clean and sends them all to the great beyond."
"Regardless, my point still stands." Jacob persisted.
"John is to have no help from anyone outside Holland Valley. Not you," he looked to Jacob, "and not you." He looked to Faith. "This is a test from God, John. You must prove to him that you are capable and strong. Prove that you are worthy of leading the new world after the Collapse. And if you are not . . ." The Father stood up from his seat.
John hung his head. "Yes, I know, Joseph."
"Then it is settled. I know you won't let me down, John." He reached over the table and grasped his brother's hand. "You . . . you will succeed."
"Yes."
He let go of John's hand. "This was a lovely dinner, John. I hope we can have another one like it in the future." Joseph made his leave.
Jacob stood up next. "Sorry, little brother. Joseph's word and all that. But you're strong. You can kick these weakling's asses into line, no sweat."
That got a weak smirk out of John. "Thank you, Jacob."
The elder brother nodded and made his way out.
Faith still stuck around a bit longer. Like john her head was downcasted, but her eyes were hidden by her golden locks. After a moment of silence between them, Faith let out a choked sentence.
"I-I'm sorry, John." She whined.
"Don't be. This . . . this is all part of the Father's plan. He's . . . he's making me better. Helping me atone for MY sins. The Deputy is the key . . . for some reason. I don't know why, but it's not my place to question him! I'll do whatever he says. Whatever he needs!"
While John ranted, Faith bit her lip and tried very hard not to say anything. She loved John, but John loved Joseph more.
She stood up, making her chair screech against the polished floor. It got John's attention and he quickly stood up. They stood in front of each other, almost awkwardly.
Then Faith opened her arms up. John did the same and they embraced.
"I won't abandon you." Faith whispered into his ear. "Look to your bunker."
Before John could say anything, they broke apart and Faith walked out. Leaving John alone in the big house to plan and plot against the Resistance. Unaided.
Outside, Joseph and Jacob were waiting for Faith. The Father had actually collected them all himself, flying to each of their regions just to have a nice family breakfast with them all. Now it was time to return them to complete their assigned reaping.
Faith passed by a bloody man tied to two posts, a VIP who had failed John. Least that's what she heard. Ultimately ignoring the suffering man, Faith continued her walk toward her "brothers."
"What took you so long, Faith?" Joseph asked.
"Nothing, Joseph. Just giving John a blessing of good luck before he goes off to deal with those pesky heathens."
Joseph stoically stared at the young woman. After about a minute of uncomfortable silence he said, "I see."
They all turned away from the ranch and entered the helicopter.
John walked out of his home and watched his family fly away. When they were so far gone that they were nothing but a speck, John approached the restrained and tortured VIP.
"Hello, Roger. And how are you this fine day?"
Roger was the VIP in charge of guarding the Widowmaker. He was also the one responsible for stealing it from right under the Fairgrave patriarch's nose. Most of the cult was too afraid to go anywhere near the Spread Eagle, Fall's End in general, in fear of that monster of a truck. Not even the threat of John's punishment was enough to convince them to risk their lives for it.
And that's where Roger came in. You couldn't tell from his greying beard and shaggy mop of hair, but he was actually in his twenties. Underneath all that messy hair was a good-looking face. To earn a spot among the cult elite he took it upon himself to do what no one else was brave enough to do.
More then a year ago, he seduced the daughter, Mary May, and slowly earned her trust for about a month. One night he got her drunk and convinced her to show off her father's truck. He succeeded in getting the keys and when Mary wasn't looking, he drove off with the Widowmaker and presented it to John. The Baptist was so pleased he personally crowned Roger with the Bliss Thorn Crown.
And now that crown laid broken in front of him.
"J-J-John . . ." Roger wheezed.
"Shh-shhh-sshhh." He gave the man some water from a bowl.
"T-thank you." He gasped.
"You're welcome. Do you know why I'm doing this, Roger?"
"Because I lost the Fairgrave's Widowmaker."
"Yes. And?"
"B-because I f-failed the Father." He quivered.
"Yes. That's right." John rested his hands on Roger's head. "But I've talked it over with Joseph and he's willing to forgive you for your failure."
The absolute joy on Roger's face made John feel so powerful.
"But you must pay tribute for your failure. In your blood and others."
"Yes, John. Anything for the Father."
John pulled out his knife and leaned in to cut—"
"John! John!"
"What is it, Lonny? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" John said irately. He hated being interrupted when he was saving someone's soul.
"Apologies, my Herald." He bowed his head. "But we found Grace Armstrong."
That was pleasant news to John's ears. "Where?"
"Hold up in the Lamb of God Church." Lonny informed him.
"Tch! I knew I should have burnt that place down when I scared off that useless priest. Send some men out and bring her back to her house. I want everything she has."
"Yes, John. And afterwards?"
"I'm sure she has some sins that need to be confessed."
Lonny nodded and left to go prepare for the assault. John returned his attention to Roger and proceeded to cut off Roger's ear. Roger, in turn, accepted the pain. This was his atonement.
The Lawwoman
America let out a long, tired yawn.
"We boring you America?" Mary May teased.
"No, no, sorry guys." She yawned deeply again. "I-I just didn't get enough sleep last night."
"I suppose you did have a lot going on. Gettin' captured by John Seed and being forcefully baptized would make anyone restless."
"Yeah. Yeah I suppose." She didn't want to let them know she had another nightmare. She took a sip of her coffee to chase the tiredness away. "Where were we?"
"We were saying now that we've got the roads cleared, we can finally think about retaking some key locations."
"Lay it on me."
"Well, we've already taken Gardenview, thanks to you Deputy. Doug and Debbie are watching over the place and will be shipping us some food later. But the key locations we need to take still are Sunrise Farm, Kellett Cattle Co., and US Auto. Those are our top priorities." Mary explained.
"I'll be taking the US Auto today." America said. "With the Peggie convoys totaled we can seriously cripple their movements if we capture their only source to repair vehicles."
"Wish I could be a part of that assault." Merle lamented. "But n
"Might not be their only source." Jerome said.
"What do you mean?"
Jerome pointed to a location on the far eastern side of Holland Valley.
"Our scouts say they've been seeing a lot of activity coming from the Copperhead Rail Yard. Lots of Peggie vehicles carrying scrap into the place. Fuel tankers coming in and out. Noises of powertools and metalworking coming from the warehouse from dusk to dawn, but it's unknown what the peggies are working on."
"It's too heavily guarded. No one can sneak in to get a good look." Mary said.
America hummed. "Keep our scouts watching the Rail Yard and keep in constant contact. Tell 'em don't take any unnecessary risks. They see something bad, they report it immediately and get the hell out of there."
"Agreed." Mary nodded.
The Resistance Leaders continued talking about other locations. The Green-Busch Fertilizer Co. That place was being used to create explosives and process and store their bliss-infused fertilizer. The Seed Ranch. That place was the den of the whole Seed Family, but only John was living there now. It had its very own airfield where they assumed all the Chosen was coming from. That place was a top priority, but they couldn't risk an attack. It was too heavily fortified.
America walked out of the Spread Eagle, a hot cup of coffee in hand and an active Boomer by her side. A single sip rejuvenated her somewhat and chased away the sleep.
Looking to the east the sun was still coming over the horizon. She hated getting up early, but this sight always made it worth it. She just wished nightmares weren't the reason for arising so early.
"Good morning."
Turning her head, America was joined by Cassidy. The redhead took a seat right next to the Deputy.
"Good morning." America greeted back tiredly.
"Up pretty early aren't ya?"
"I could say the same for you, Cass."
"I've always been an early riser. Get more time out of your day by waking up early."
"Can't deny that." America took a sip of her coffee.
"So, what's on the agenda today?"
"With the blockades and convoys decimated we can move a bit more freely now. We can reach out to people that need our help, liberate locations under cult control, and hunt with little fear of Peggie ambushes." She took another sip of her coffee, relishing its warmth. "You?"
"Papa is sending me out to fetch another lighter. Somewhere up north in a cabin."
"Need someone to watch your back?"
"Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I fly solo."
"Doesn't hurt to have someone watching your back."
"Yeah, but I move better on my own. You though could use someone like that."
"Hm?"
"Well, John's gunning for you the most right? If I were you I'd find some of the biggest, toughest badasses around and have them protect you while you're tearing the cult a new one."
"That's what Boomer's for." She looked own at the cute mutt.
"Bark!" Boomer was pleased to be recognized for his hard work.
"Yeah, but he can't pull a trigger and drive a car. No offense Boomer, you'r a very good boy."
"Bark!"
"You've had my back a few times now." America pointed out.
"Yeah, but that's more because I like watching your ass. It's nice to look at."
America laughed heartily. Cassidy just smiled, enjoying the Deputy's revelry.
"Thanks, Cassidy. I needed that."
"Sure thing." She lightly shoulder bumped her. "But I am serious. You should think about hiring some guns to help you in a fight or just to guard you. So something like what happened before doesn't happen again." She referred to when John's men first captured her.
"I'll think about it."
"Good girl. Now if you'll excuse me. I have to go get an old lighter for my Papa."
America watched her leave until she rounded the corner. She then chugged down the rest of her coffee and headed for the garage to get a car.
"Come on, Boomer. Let's go start up some new trouble today."
"Bark! Bark!"
Hitching a ride on a pickup truck, America, Boomer, and four other fighters headed to the US Auto. With most of their vehicles destroyed by the Widowmaker, a lot of cultists were hunkering down at the junkyard. Waiting for their trucks and vans to be repaired so they could go out reaping again.
It was exactly where she wanted them.
"Are ya'll in position?" America whispered through her radio.
"Yes, ma'am. Waiting on your signal."
"There are about fifteen peggies, fellas. After I take care of their radios and thin the herd a bit, you all come rushing in."
"You sure you can sneak through them all, Deputy?"
"We'll see. Going silent."
America crouched down and hid behind the tall grass and bushes. Boomer was by her side crouched as well. He had already scouted out the place and alerted her to every Peggie he could sense. Even sniffing out a few hostages locked inside the shipping containers. So, they didn't need to worry about casualties if things went sideways.
While the Peggies were idle, the bastards were listening to a broadcast on some large amps in the backs of their trucks. Whether it was live or recorded, she didn't know, but what she did know was the two voices coming through them.
John Seed and Deputy Hudson.
The Bastard Baptist was broadcasting his torture sessions of Deputy Hudson for all of Holland Valley to hear. The screams and audible sounds coming from Joey made America cringe and want to bodily harm the nearest living thing. So that's what she did.
Reaching over some barrels, America dragged a cultist behind them and stomped her boot against his face. Coast was clear now, she advanced.
The garage was busy inside, with several of the cultists working underneath the vehicles and going back and forth between different projects.
Stealthily, she made her way behind the garage. Cultists were guarding the crates or gathering parts from the rundown cars. The signal radio she was looking for was right on the outside corner of the garage. Sticking to the shadows and hiding behind junk, she snuck through.
Just as she made it to the radio a Peggie walked right in front of her.
"Huh? What the-!"
America struck him twice, knocking him out. She stuffed his body in a tool container and proceeded to mess with the cult's radio. Pulling out pliers she snipped some wires and deactivated the whole thing. For added measure, she left a little present for anyone thinking about calling for help.
Now she had to get the last one and it was in the middle of a bunch of idle peggies.
'How am I supposed to get to that without causing a scene?'
Backtracking America returned to her spot among the plants and pondered her next move. The sound of Boomer's jingling collar when he scratched drew her attention and gave her an idea.
"Boomer?"
The dog looked up at her quizzically.
Two peggies were hanging out near the emergency radio. They were shooting the shit, acting like nothing big was happening in their quaint little valley.
"And then I stabbed my staff right through his heart. Ha! Sinner's eyes nearly bulged out and his dying breath was the most pathetic thing you've ever heard." He tried to imitate the sound, poorly.
"That's nothin'." His buddy waved away. "Saw a pair of sinners on the road. Asked them if they'd like a ride. Me and Rufus got out of the car and, get this, one of them pulls a gun on us!" They both chuckled. "It was the female. Her hand was shaking and everything."
"So, what'd ya do?" The cultist asked, amused by the story.
"I just talked to her, slowly approached and when I was in grabbing distance, I took her gun and smacked her with it."
"Hehehe!"
"We got'em both tied up, but the guy was bein' real mouthy, saying all this bad shit about Father Joseph."
His buddy became serious now, all hint of amusement wiped away. There was no laughing matter when it came to the Father. "What'd you do?"
"What'cha think I did? Shot the blasphemer in the head is what."
"Good man!"
"Girl wouldn't stop crying though, so we knocked her out and threw her in the back, then we—"
"What the?"
The two were interrupted when they saw Boomer looking up at them.
"Who's dog is that?"
"Don't know. Might be a stray. Lot of them around since the Father declared the Reaping."
"What's that in his mouth?"
Indeed, Boomer was carrying something blockish and white in his mouth. He set it down near them and ran off. Confused, the two peggies crouched down to analyze it.
"Wait, isn't that a . . ."
He would never finish that sentence. In fact, neither of the two would ever say anything again, because the white block was a remote C4 bomb. And America flipped its switch, destroying the two and the last radio.
That was the signal to attack the outpost. While the peggies were confused by the explosion, the Resistance rolled in on their trucks, armed to the teeth.
One of the peggies went for the last emergency radio but was killed by America's explosive boobytrap.
It was pandemonium now for the cult. The surprise attack caught them all off guard. The Resistance mowed them down after running a few down with their vehicles. Some took cover among the scrap, but America and Boomer flanked them, pushing them out and back into the line of fire. Before anyone knew it, the fight was over. The US Auto was liberated.
America helped release the hostages from the containers. Using bolt cutters, she and the other members cut the chains keeping the hostages inside. Many of them were in bad shape, beaten, starved and dehydrated from being sealed inside the hot crates. One container even had a wild black bear inside, feasting on two civilian corpses. They put the beast down and buried the bodies.
When all the prisoners were free America watched the Resistance repaint or tear apart Peggie vehicles, taking their parts for their own cars. Coming up the driveway, she saw a familiar face in the truck.
Stepping outside the Auto store, America acknowledged the handlebar moustache wearing redneck.
"Deputy!" Merle greeted with an open arm. "Nice work on the assault. Not a single casualty on our side."
"That's right and a bunch of casualties on the peggies."
"Ha ha! That's what I like to hear! Soon my Death Wish will be all fixed up. Wish I could have been there to take the place myself, but the doctor said 'No unnecessary stress or your arm won't heal.' Thanks for doing this Deputy. I could just kiss ya."
"You're not my type Merle. No offense." She said in wry refusal.
"I got the breasts for it don't I?" He grabbed his man boobs.
"Yeah, but one too many additions." She pointed south, making Merle laugh.
"Yeah, I ain't no Cassidy Redler." He winked, making America blush. "So, give it to me straight, what's the results? Jerome's gonna want a whole report on this."
"We got enough vehicles and car parts to keep us strong on the road. Weakened Peggie strength in maintaining their vehicles. Gonna need a shit ton of gasoline though."
"I'll get that info to Mary. I'm sure she'll think of something. Anything else?" Merle said.
"Saved about five hostages. Couple of them former workers here. Two dead though—peggies fed 'em to a bear."
"Bastards."
"Speaking of, we got a couple live ones."
"Really?"
She motioned for Merle to follow and brought him to the peggies they managed to capture. Three of them were restrained to wooden posts, with their hands tied behind them. They were bloody and bruised, but fine. They were of varying ages. One was an old man in his eighties, the second was in his early forties, and the last was young, probably eighteen or nineteen years old. Two fighters and Boomer were watching over them.
"Well, well, well." Merle said. "How's it feel to be on the other side of the torture session, Peggie fucks."
They remained silent.
"What, nothing to say?" Merle goaded. "No biting words like "sinner" or "blasphemer?" You peggies are always the talkative types."
Still more silence.
America decided to give this a try. "If you're wondering why we haven't killed you like the rest of your lot, I want information."
"We'll tell you shit, sinner." The old man spat. "Isn't that right boys?"
"So, they can talk." Merle scoffed.
"That's right, Martin. Isaac?" The second eldest turned his head to the youngest cultist.
"Y-yes, Hank. We w-won't talk." The youngest said, clearly afraid.
America took out her knife and held it in a way that garnered the attention of the prisoners.
"I don't want to hurt you. But I will if I can't get anything out of you. The unfortunate part is fellas, is that we have no way of detaining you. So, there's really only two ways out of your situation. One: I slit your throats and move on with my day or you walk out of here after giving me something I can use against Eden's Gate and the Seeds." She kneeled down to look them all at eye-level. "So, what is it going to be? Die pointlessly or live to fight another day?"
Merle's hand latched onto America's shoulder. "Deputy you can't be seriously thinking of letting them go." He said heatedly.
"I am."
"They wouldn't do the same for us!"
"Which is why I'm doing it. We are not them, Merle. We're better."
"We are the followers of God's chosen man." Spat Martin. "And you are filthy sinners who refuse to see the truth that the Father brings to light."
"Oh boy, here we go." Merle said exasperatedly, covering his face with his hand.
"Can't you see how pointless your struggle is? Joseph and his family are only trying to help us! Help you! The Collapse is upon us and all this fighting is doing nothing but slowing progress."
"I've heard this all before." America harshly stated. "Your bullshit is starting to get irksome. Give me something new."
"We only repeat it because you refuse to heed our words." The youngest cultist spoke.
"Isaac is correct. You don't learn—none of you learn! So, we beat it into you and if you still don't learn through pain, then we grant you the mercy of death."
"Mercy?" America asked quietly.
"Yes, mercy." Martin nodded. "For when the Collapse finally arrives, the ones who refused the Father will not suffer during the chaotic turmoil that is to come."
"You think . . . you're merciful?"
"Is a case of deafness going around? YES! What we do is for the good of all—MMF!"
America launched her hand out and gripped the man's mouth tight. Martin's words had triggered a rage inside her and she could no longer stand listening to this old fool.
Lifting his head up, America took out her knife and swiped it across the old man's neck. Blood poured out of his jugular like a waterfall.
Behind her America could hear a variety of reactions. Gasps, sighs, startled yelps, and approving hums. Merle was one of the people who approved of her action, but he gave America a look that was a combination of worry and caution.
"Martin!" Hank yelled out desperately. He and Isaac watched as the life was slowly drained out of the old man.
Martin thrashed about, kicking his legs up, but ultimately unable to do anything. Everyone watched for a whole minute as the ruby liquid life poured out of Martin. Beyond a minute, the old man had become still and his eyes turned glassy and hollow.
America was trembling, seething with rage. Her knife creaked from how tight her hand was gripping her Dad's knife.
"For once, just once, I didn't want to kill any prisoners today. But you fucking cultists just make it so hard." She ground her teeth.
"You killed him! You killed Martin in cold blood you heartless bitch!" Hank screamed.
"Tell me what I want to know or you'll join him." Her knife pointed at him.
"I won't tell you shit! When John gets his hands on you I hope he pulls out each and every life you've taken and—MMF!"
Once again America silenced the Peggie and slit his throat. Hank coughed and gagged and tried spewing more curses, but he couldn't. Like Martin he thrashed around like an animal and died from blood loss a minute later.
"Jesus, Deputy." Merle said under his breath, intimidated by her mercilessness.
America pointed her knife at the youngest Peggie now. Her knife gleamed a bright red from the blood.
"Now, you . . ."
"I-I-I don't know anything!"
"Then what's the point of keeping you alive." She made a reach for him, but then he screamed.
"Wait! Wait! I-I know one thing—Grace Armstrong!" That name caused her to stop and everyone else paid close attention.
"What about her?"
"Th-they found Grace Armstrong. She's at the Lamb of God Church. John's sending men out there to flush her out."
America leaned in close, face-to-face. "Are you telling the truth?"
"Yes! Yes! I swear to God, Father Joseph, and-"
"Swear to me!" She roared.
"I swear! I swear! I swear!"
Still holding the kid's face close, she brought the knife nearer to him. Pressing it slightly against his neck, drawing a bead of blood. The kid was now hyperventilating, and America was certain he pissed his pants.
America then removed the knife at such a fast pace people that she slit the kid's neck. Much to Isaac's relief she didn't and just pointed her weapon at a truck full of scrap metal.
"What is Eden's Gate doing with all that scrap metal? A lot of it has been coming out of this place and going in to the Copperhead Rail Yard. That and a ton of gasoline."
"I-I-I don't know." He quivered.
America squeezed his neck. "Don't lie to me." She growled.
"I'm not! I swear to—you! I'm not a part of that project. Martin was. All I can tell you is that the project is called 'The Revelator.'"
America held her choke hold for a while longer. She stared into his eyes seeking any kind of deception. But all she saw was her reflection—her face—it was intense. All there was in his eyes was fear, understandably.
She finally let go and walked around the boy and cut his ties. "Alright kid, get out of here. You've earned your freedom. And you better hope we don't meet again."
Isaac didn't wait to see them change their minds and sprinted off out of the US Auto. No one stopped him. They all just watch him run off, back to wherever there were peggies or just somewhere to hide.
"I'll head over to Lamb of God. Scope it out. If it's not a trap I'll call you guys." America said staring ahead.
"You got it Deputy." Merle responded automatically.
America whistled and Boomer came to her side.
"Dep, you okay?" Merle finally racked up the courage to ask. "That was uhh, a little intense."
"I'm fine." She said curtly and that was the end of it. Taking a car, America headed in the direction Grace Armstrong supposedly was.
The Lamb of God Church was not far from the US Auto. Probably half a mile at most. It made her wonder if the forces at US Auto were supposed to be the ones to assault Grace.
When she arrived at the little church, she was astounded to see the aftermath of a battle. A bunch of dead peggies littered the ground. Their blood splattered everywhere. On the welcome sign of the church, that usually had an inspirational proverb, said "Souls don't harvest themselves."
America and Boomer got out of the car and cautiously move toward the church. Most of the enemies seemed dead and Boomer wasn't making any noise, but she wasn't taking any chances. Approaching a truck, Judgment raised, she found a Peggie still in the driver seat. Opening it made the body fall out and reveal a bullet wound to the head.
Slowly walking through the grave, she found many cultists with the same injury. A bloody hole in the head, with only a couple with bodily shots in them. Boomer sniffed the bodies and whined curiously.
To say America was impressed wouldn't cut it. She was great shot and she was getting better with Fall's Ghost every time she used it, but this was masterly. A whole other level.
America made it half way through the graveyard before she suddenly stopped. A green dot shakily crawled up her body and stopped on her head.
"Ah shit."
"Identify yourself!" A deep, rough voice yelled from atop the church.
"My name is Deputy Jones!" She quickly said to who she assumed was Grace Armstrong.
"There's no law around these parts anymore." Grace threw back. "Case you hadn't notice."
America looked down at the fresh bodies.
"I'm bringing order, not law. That can come after we kick Joseph a new one."
"You still haven't told me why you're here."
"I'm from Fall's End. Got word you were in trouble. Came to help."
For a while there was no response. The dot still remained on her forehead. America was curious if the woman was too far gone and would shoot her on sight.
Then the dot fell and America slouched her shoulders in relief. She walked over to the main entry of the church, just as a rope was thrown from the bell tower.
"Come on up!"
Gripping the rope and placing her feet in the proper setting on the wall, America climbed up the side of the church. She grunted with each pull and tug. She wasn't much of a climber, but she did have great upper body strength.
Making it to the top, America clasped Grace's hand, who helped her into the tower.
Grace looked exactly as she did on TV and on the billboards. Dark skin, raven hair tied in a ponytail, with a hat on top, wearing eye black on her cheeks, decked out in camouflage, a bullet-proof vest, and a tattered American flag cloth around her neck.
In her arms was an AR-CL rifle, with tan, red, and green camo painted on it. Outfitted with a collapsible stock, Bowden sniper-scope model 3, M-LOK handguard, compensator, and a Magpul PMags.
"So, you're the deputy I've been hearing about?" The soldier gave her a once over. "Can't say I'm impressed."
America frowned. "Looking impressive doesn't kill peggies."
That got a small, almost nonexistent, smirk from the woman. "True enough."
"Why are you out here, Ms. Armstrong?"
"Call me Grace." She insisted. Judging from her tone there was no arguing. "As for what I'm doing here—protecting these graves from the peggies."
Grace took a step past the Deputy and looked out over the graves.
"See those graves down there." She pointed to the mausoleums draped with American Flags. "A couple of war heroes are buried here. My Pops included. But the peggies are trying to defile them. Trying to erase our history, demoralize us. Get us to break so we'll roll over." She scoffed. "Not on my watch. Ain't no motherfucker's gonna touch my Pop's grave while I'm still breathing."
America took a step and stood side to side with Grace. She looked down at the graves too.
"The peggies really don't take kindly to military types. Saw an example like this when I helped Wendell Redler and his granddaughter."
"You saved them?" She asked almost casually.
"Yeah, though they hardly needed it. Held their own as much as you did from what I see. But they're much safer in Fall's End then in an old house in the middle of nowhere."
Grace nodded, then like a switch, she was on high alert. She pulled the binoculars hanging around her neck to her eyes and saw a bunch of Peggie vehicles speeding down the road.
"Shit, these fuckers don't know when to quit." She handed the binoculars to America, who peered through them next.
"Maybe so, but if we kill enough of them there won't be enough left to learn it."
"We? You're gonna help."
"I'm an officer of the law, Grace." She pulled out Fall's Ghost. "And I'm bringing order back."
America grabbed the rope and slid down to the ground. Boomer was waiting for her and growling at the approaching peggies. Reaching into her bag she pulled out two bricks of C4.
She placed the plastic explosives near the steps and then got into hiding.
The peggies arrived in swarms. Showing up in groups of four or five. Some came from the east in the fields and others from the south in the forest.
As soon as the eastern peggies crossed the road, they may as well have worn big red targets on their heads. Grace's gun discharged and a Peggie fell dead.
"One down!" Grace declared.
Peggies ran for cover, but not before Grace headshot another one, splattering his blood on the pavement.
They retaliated, firing at Grace, who hid behind the beams. America popped out of cover and fired Fall's Ghost. Realizing the Deputy had joined up with the sharpshooter, the peggies hunkered down and did not come up for air.
This was perfect timing as peggies started coming in from the south, trying to flank the two. America whirled around and fired her rifle. She got one in the chest, killing him. Cocking the gun, she fired again and got a headshot. The third went down with two rounds to the torso.
Boomer rushed after the eastern peggies and flushed them out. He grabbed one by the arm and pulled them out of cover where Grace and America finished them off. Boomer continued to be a good boy and repeated the process.
The remaining southern peggies were finished off by Grace and her sniper skills.
"That was some good shooting, Deputy Jones."
"Thank you."
"But you're too tense. Try to relax your right arm and don't grip the gun too closely. Your aim won't be so wonky then."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You'll get a chance to test it. Peggie trucks incoming."
Sure enough peggies came rolling in in their white pickup trucks. Much to her surprise, a flamer hopped out of the back.
"Fuck, Flamebearers." Grace cursed.
"What?" America said confused.
"That's what the cult call those flamethrower wielding assholes. Flamebearers. Heard one of them get called that outside my house right before they burned it down."
"Good to know." She let a cultist get near and then she struck with her knife.
She stabbed a cultist in the stomach and fired her silver revolver. She unleashed four shots and got each Peggie with a single bullet.
"Nice shooting." Grace said actually impressed with her gunslinging.
America was going to thank her, but she had to dive into cover before she was filled with lead.
"Boomer!" She whistled.
The mutt went around and pounced on a cultist who was the farthest from the group. He ripped into the peggie's neck, making him scream out before going silent. Boomer then quickly ran away when a cultist tried to run to his friend's aid. He was too late of course, but he didn't have to mourn long as Grace finished him with a bullet to the brain.
America unloaded six rounds in the Flamebearer's body, but his armor was tough. Even his mask absorbed a bullet. He pulled the trigger and America could feel some of her hair get singed. She backed up several feet, but secretly she was leading him.
"Deputy what are you doing?! Don't let'em near the graves!" Grace berated and tried aiming her rifle.
"Hold on Grace! Save your ammo."
"What for?" She said incredulously.
Her answer came in the form of an explosion, killing the flamebearer on the steps.
"I rigged some traps on the steps."
A second explosion detonated on the southern staircase, killing three more peggies.
"Retreat! Retreat!" The crier was silenced by a gunshot from Grace. Scaring the peggies off.
Whatever cultists remained started running for the hills now. Both Grace and America unleashed whatever rounds they had left in their magazines. Making sure that some didn't ever come back.
That was when three gunmounted trucks pulled up to the church, but these bared no Peggie symbols. These were resistance fighters.
"Who are these guys?" Grace asked surprised to see more people.
"Our allies." America said proudly.
The gunners in the back fired and mowed down any remaining cultists in the area. You could have called the area peaceful now, but with all the bodies, fires, and bullets lying all over the place it was more of a warzone.
America welcomed the fighters and ordeed them to hold the location. She suggested places in the church they could use to best defend the church. The cult would not be taking this place any time soon, the graves and their heroes would be protected.
Returning to Grace, America found the soldier-woman standing near one of the mausoleums. The one closest to the church. She gave it a solemn salute. America decided to give the woman a moment and stood behind her.
After a moment of respectful silence Grace looked down when she felt something lick her hand. She was pleased to see a familiar local champion hound.
"Hey Boomer," she scratched his head and neck, "what are you doing here? I can't imagine Rae-Rae ever letting him out of her sight." Grace directed the question to America.
The Deputy's face became sorrowful at the mention of the family she failed. The wordless response was all Grace needed to put the puzzle together.
"She's . . .?" America nodded. "Her whole family . . . their son?"
A tight nod. "Boomer's the only survivor."
"Fuck! They were good people."
"I've been taking care of Boomer since then. And he's been taking care of me."
Taking a deep breath, Grace collected herself and stood up. She let Boomer return to the Deputy's side, where he received a welcoming pat from his owner. Her eyes scanned over the working Resistance members.
"Seems you've been taking care of more than just Boomer." Grace looked down at the ground, pondering her next words. "And I'm no exception. I owe you for protecting my Pop's grave. Not a lot of people would have stuck their necks out like that. Means a lot to me."
"I'm not the only one who would've helped you Grace. Pastor Jerome, Mary May, all of Fall's End would have come to your aid. You're not fighting this war alone."
Grace smiled wearily. "My Pop's always said: "As long as we keep believing in each other, there's still hope." If we stick together, look out for one another, the cult'll never break us."
"Ya'know, we made a pretty good team fightin' off those peggies." America smiled. "And aren't snipers supposed to work in pairs?"
"We did and they are."
America held out her hand. "Then how would you like to join me in kickin' it to Eden's Gate, Grace? John is gunnin' for me, so we won't run short of peggies to shoot."
Grace looked down at the cop's hand and then looked back up at her. She set down her gun by its butt and held it by the barrel. "You've shown me what you're capable of, Deputy. You fight for the people and you got the skills to put up a fight. This place would have been my grave if it weren't for you. I'd be glad to join you, Deputy Jones"
They both shook hands respectfully.
As soon as they stopped shaking hands, Grace had gone back to soldier-mode.
"Now, enough of all this sappy shit. There's work to do." She said seriously and headed toward America's truck.
"Yes ma'am."
They hopped into America's truck, Grace sitting in the passenger seat, while Boomer lied in the back taking it easy. Before they left, Grace had something to ask.
"Do you mind if we make a quick stop somewhere Deputy?" Grace asked as she casually changed the magazine of her AR-CL.
"What's that?"
"I'd like to stop by my house."