Hope County Crusade

by Omegas Prime

America Jones is the newest resident of Hope County as well as the newest deputy of the Sheriff's Department. Tough, religious, and the right amount of practical. She'll build up a resistance to fight back against Eden's Gate. May God have mercy on her soul. May God have mercy on EVERYONE.

18. The Miracle of Hope County

A cougar jumped from the trees, its paws barely making a sound as it landed. In its jaws was the dead body of a raven. Dropping it to the ground revealed scars, old and new, all over its body. It had been through much in its short life.

Now it was dead, by the cougar's claws. It had cawed and mocked the cougar for days and even stole some of the cougar's food as it followed. For days the cougar suffered under the crow's taunts and thievery. What was worse, it drew other crows around to steal from her and annoy her. The murder of crows grew so bold as to even peck and scratch her for their amusement!

Looking around, the cougar saw many dead crows. All killed by her.

The first crow, the "Leader" of the murder, tried to get to safety up in the trees, thinking it would be safe. It was not, it did not realize the big cat could climb so high.

The cougar tore the scarred crow apart, devouring it.

It then looked up, over at a nearby hill. That damn black coyote, with the red eyes again, was staring at her. It wasn't smiling now, nor was it laughing. The coyote seemed more annoyed then anything.

Coming to the side of the coyote was a mangy, blood-red wolf. It squatted next to the coyote on the left, joining the canine in staring. Then a pure-white butterfly fluttered onto the coyote's head; the cougar could also feel eyes coming from the insect.

The cougar growled at the three, showing she wasn't backing down.

Then America awoke. This time not screaming, though her body held a cold sweat.

Boomer lept onto her bed and started licking her. "Hey, hey, boy!" She joyfully shielded herself from her dog's love, scratching his head in the process.

"AH!" An excruciating jolt of pain shot through her body from her chest.

Looking down at her chest was the wrath tattoo that John Seed lovingly gave her. It looked like someone treated and bandaged it, but she didn't recall who or when that happened.

America realized that she was back at the Spread Eagle in her room. She looked around, her guns were on the nightstand and there was a fresh set of clothes on the hope chest at the end of her bed.

Getting out of bed, America went over to the window and saw everyone working and about. Only this time, there seemed to be a lot more people.

After getting dressed, the Deputy went downstairs and walked into a meeting with the other community leaders. Even Nick was present, though he seemed paler than normal.

When everyone heard footsteps coming down the stairs, they turned and all their reactions were smiles and applause. America looked at them all with bewilderment.

"If it isn't the hero herself." Mary declared happily. "Casey, the Deputy's up!"

"On it!" The cook shouted from the kitchen.

"What you did was amazing!" Merle shouted.

"I ain't ever seen anything like that before." Nick said, impressed.

"You're some kind of special, Rook." James praised.

"Um . . thank you, everyone . . . what happened?" She asked bashfully and semi-confused.

"You don't remember?" Jerome asked concerned.

"I remember everything before the bunker blew, but that's it." She walked down the last of the stairs. James pulled a seat open for her so she could sit.

"Honestly? Nothing much happened after that." Mary said. "Least, nothing major compared to what you did."

"You passed out in the copter and we took you back here to rest." Grace explained. "The rest of us worked overtime after what you pulled. We picked up a lot of people over by the Black Horse Mountains, ran the remaining, fleeing peggies out, and reestablished defenses."

"I passed out?"

"Apparently, chasing down, fighting in a plane, killing John, saving hundreds of people, killing dozens of cultists, and blowing up a whole bunker is enough to push your body to run solely on adrenaline." James explained amusedly.

"Needless to say, as soon as your stopped moving, you collapsed. Like a shark!" Merle added cheerily.

America looked over at Nick. The pilot looked okay, a little paler, but the dude had his skin peeled off his body.

"Nick? How are you?" She asked uneasily.

The Rye patriarch, despite everything, smiled as cheerfully as he always had. "I'm scarred, partner, but helping you kill John and shoot him out of my skies was therapeutic." America just continued to stare at him worriedly. "I'm okay, America. I will be, thanks to you."

The Deputy just nodded. "What about Kim? How's your wife?"

"She's okay too. Before John and his Ushers nabbed me, I hid Kim in our bomb shelter behind our kitchen. I pulled her out of there last night, right after you blew John's bunker to hell."

America breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good."

"I was there to see her again thanks to you, America. I'll always remember that." Nick said gratefully.

Suddenly the kitchen doors burst open. Casey came out with a plate of smoked ham, scrambled eggs, toast and a cup of coffee, black.

"Make way, make way! Got food for the hero here. Here ya go, Deputy."

America didn't even hesitate and started digging in.

"Whoa, I knew you'd be hungry, but damn!" Casey laughed and went back to the kitchen. "Let me know if you want more."

America suddenly stopped mid bite when she realized something. "Wait, where's Hudson?"

Suddenly the front door creaked open and Joey Hudson walked in, shotgun in hand. The senior deputy smiled at the rookie.

"Hudson is right here, Rook." She answered lightheartedly.

America smiled back. "I'm so glad you're alright, Hudson."

"You can call me, Joey right now, America. We just . . . need to relax a little." She took a seat across from America.

Now that they were in broad daylight, America could better see the damage that Hudson had taken from John. For the most part she looked bruised, but closer inspection saw that all her fingernails were ripped out. And the rookie could see some burn scars on the woman's arms, which were mostly covered by the uniform sleeves.

"Alright. I'm glad you're okay."

Hudson chuckled mirthlessly. "Okay? Not quite, but I'd be worse off if it weren't for you." America opened her mouth. "John said that he was hurting me because of you. I didn't believe him then and I certainly don't believe him now. You're my hero America. You're everyone's hero today."

America smiled proudly from hearing those words. They touched her heart in a way she had never felt before.

Hudson looked down, contemplating. "I've heard about everything you've done, America. There isn't a single person here who doesn't have a story about how you helped them. The way I see it . . . you're the one in charge now."

America's head shot up. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me. I and everyone else would still be in John's bunker with more on the way if it weren't for you. This whole Resistance would be a pipe dream without you, America."

Everyone around them nodded their heads and spoke in agreement.

"So, as far as I'm concerned, you call the shots. And if you need anything, I'll be there for you."

"But I'm just a Junior Deputy. You and James outrank me by seniority."

"'Fraid I'm gonna have to disagree, Rookie." James leaned off the wall and smiled cockily. "The amount of people you inspire is breathtaking. We need a symbol like you at the forefront. We may be your seniors, but we haven't come close to anything you've done."

"Killing John and destroying his bunker, no one else could have done what you did. You're special, America, you give us all hope." Hudson said.

"But I couldn't have gotten John without Nick and I couldn't have blown up that bunker without you."

"And yet, Nick couldn't have helped you without you standing up to John at the church. And Hudson couldn't have helped you without you saving her." Mary interjected. "We're not putting ourselves out, America, but none of this would be possible without you."

"We're not putting every future decision in your hands, Rook." Jerome said. "This is still a team effort, but everyone will be looking to you for guidance."

America looked around at everyone. "You . . . really think this about me? Everyone?"

"YES!" They all shouted, then laughed.

"Now for fuck's sake, accept the compliment, stop being so modest and take the leadership. Because there's no way I'm taking orders from this hothead." Hudson thumbed to James.

"Hey!"

America looked at everyone again and smiled at Joey. "Okay."

They all once again clapped and cheered for her.

"So, what have I missed? What's happened?"

"There are still some stragglers in Holland Valley, but most of the peggies have turned tail back to the other Seeds." Jerome answered.

"We've been kicking them while their down since the bunker blew up." James smiled smugly. "Believe it or not, it's been super quiet since then."

"So now, we're setting up a celebration."

"Celebration?" America questioned Mary. "Isn't it a bit early for something like that?"

"Perhaps, but the people need this. Especially the ones that have just gotten out of John's Gate." Mary explained.

"Lord knows, I could use a night to get plastered and forget my troubles." Hudson added, momentarily having the thousand-yard stare.

"What kind of celebration?" America asked.

Merle walked over to the corkboard and ripped off a piece of paper. "Every year, Hope County holds the annual Testicle Festival."

"The WHAT?!"

"Testicle Festival or Testy Festy for short."

"That's not any better." America drawled.

"It's a famous event of ours that draws a lot of people. Unfortunately, thanks to the cult scaring off many folks, it was canceled this year. But not anymore! Casey already has all the stuff we need to get everything setup." Mary May answered.

"That's right." Casey said, walking out of the kitchen wiping his hands with his apron. "Got all the major ingredients for the whole thing. We'll be serving these prairie oysters shredded, roasted, and BLUE." He smiled.

America wasn't a man, but even her privates hurt just from hearing that. Everyone else though looked very pleased.

"Please tell me you'll be serving that infamous Nuts-cream, Casey?" Merle nearly begged.

"You bet your ass I am."

Merle pumped his fist in the air. "Yes!"

"Alright, setting aside the . . . theme of the celebration, I still think it's a bit early for us to host something like this. We're still at war, people."

"America." Jerome took a seat in front of her. "Take it from me; we need this. Morale is at an all-time high now. These folks have fought hard against the peggies and need the distraction. One night of celebration is all they need."

Grace then stepped up. "He's right, Deputy. Normally, I'd be against this until all was said and done, but the people need a breather."

America looked between the two veterans. If anyone knew how important this celebration was to people it was them and if they supported it then . . .

"Alright." She sighed. "When's the party?"

"Tonight." Mary informed. "Dress casual."

"Okay. Then if that's all settled, then I'd like to discuss our next step, at the least."

"We were already doing that before you came down." Jerome said, bringing a map over to her.

"I was thinking about heading to the Henbane River." James suggested. "Meet up with the Sheriff at the Prison and work on removing the cult's supply of bliss."

America nodded. "I can certainly agree to that. We take away their drugs and they'll run short of VIPs and . . . Angels." She said disgustedly.

"And the Exalted." James added.

"Exalted?" America asked. The others looked at him too, also unaware of what that was.

"That's that back-in-black peggie you fought when we scooped you out of the bunker." James answered.

"Tall, dark and axe-crazy?" James nodded. "What was that guy? He was unlike any peggie I've ever fought and I've fought a lot of these varied crazy motherfuckers."

"I'd like to know that too." Grace said, leaning on the table. "I've shot tons of peggies, but I've never seen one of those."

"Not surprising." James said. "The Exalted are very rare. Even most of the cult aren't aware of them."

"Are they some sub-group of the Chosen?" Mary said.

"Not exactly. The Chosen are the elite of the cult, but the Exalted are more like black-ops. They only answer to the Heralds and Joseph himself. They're individuals that have been baptized by John, walked Faith's Path and trained by Jacob, removed of all weakness. Exalted are basically living weapons that won't stop until their orders are seen to the end . . . or die trying."

"How do you know so much about these guys, if they're so rare?" America asked.

"Because I met one on the night the peggies took over. Was practically the first one through the door, chopped down anyone that got in their way." James paused as if recalling a traumatic event. "I watched Lucas put three buckshots through the bastard's sternum before his head was cleaved off. Penny struck him in the head so many times he should have been unconscious, but he broke her neck with one hand. And Tony . . . goddamn, Tony . . ."

James turned away from everyone to control himself. Mary walked up to him, placing her hands on his shoulder comfortingly.

No one pressed the poor guy for more details. Clearly the attack on the Sheriff's Department was more gruesome then they had imagined.

After a minute passed, James had collected himself then continued.

"I had seen reports of individuals like him, but they were very few and short, so I just thought they were cult propaganda trying to scare the locals. When I met them that night, I knew exactly what I was dealing with."

"You said they were rare. How rare are we talking?" Hudson asked, ignoring the new horror added to her already filled-up nightmares.

"I don't know. Like I said, rare enough that they're even a boogieman to the cultists. The fact you fought one Deputy and not just survived but killed one . . . major respect."

America could only nod. She had no idea she was so lucky to get away.

"Why was that Exalted at the bunker then?" Jerome chimed in. "If they're so strong, why didn't John use him as a bodyguard?"

James answered that too. "When the one at the Sheriff's Department attacked, none of the cultists entered with it. From what I saw they were equally terrified of them as the non-believers. My guess: John didn't want the big monster to scare his people, so he kept him at the bunker, away from everyone else."

America addressed everybody. "Make sure everyone in the Resistance is aware of these Exalted. Even if they're super rare, if they see a pitch-black peggie wielding an axe they run and report it immediately."

No one disagreed with this. If there was something that even scared the peggies, it had to be stopped.

"Now then, how are the refuges settling in? Any issues?"

"None, yet." Jerome answered. His tone suggested there was no immediate worry.

"We have enough food to go around and living arrangements are being settled. The church is at full capacity, as are most of the abandoned houses." Mary replied.

"We had to reach out to the other outposts if they could take some people in." Grace said.

"Of course, nearly all of them are going to be working. Helping us grow food, hunt, set up barriers and attack spots, roadblocks, the works." James said. "We're even setting up shooting ranges so people can learn to defend themselves."

"Smart. Until we either defeat the peggies or someone realizes that Hope County is closed off to the rest of the world, we gotta prepare to the best of our abilities."

"It's been a week now." Nick said. "I can't believe no one's actually even realized what's going on here."

"Who knows what the peggies did outside of Hope County. For all we know the peggies have allies outside of Hope County trying to keep all of this quiet. America's right, we just got to wait it out until something happens." Mary said.

America ate the last bit of her food slowly. The words of the asshole agent Willis Huntley echoed in her head. The government was aware of what was going on and were refusing to do anything about it. At least that's what the deceptive CIA Agent Huntley said. Who really knew what was going on? But why would her own government leave them like this? What purpose would it serve? Regardless, America didn't have the heart to tell the others that help was not coming any time soon.

PEG Commune Island

The Seed Family gathered in their main compound on their private island. Both Jacob and Faith flew there by chopper and when they arrived, they found the people depressed and scattering.

They knew why. All of Hope County had to have known by now.

They joined The Father in the lone white church and were given privacy to discuss. The guards waited outside. Joseph was sitting by the stand, his head down, hand clasped and held against his forehead. The two weren't sure if he was praying or thinking.

Whatever he was doing, he stopped when he saw his family come in. When the doors closed, and both of them took a seat on the front pews, he began to speak.

"John is dead."

The two had heard, but hoped for the better. Faith began crying. Jacob remained his stoic self, but even Joseph could see the emotion behind his brother's eyes. He was always protective of John, ever since they were kids.

'He defended John from our parents, his adoptive parents, and the cruel world. He couldn't protect him forever though.' Joseph thought sadly.

"His Gate was destroyed too. All the wayward souls have been released."

Faith sniffled. "But . . . but they won't have any shelter from the Collapse."

Joseph nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so. None of them will survive the Collapse."

"Who killed John?" Jacob asked in his hollow tone.

Joseph held his tongue for only a moment. "Deputy Jones."

"Give me the word, Joseph and I'll—"

"The only thing you two will do is take in whatever remains of John's forces into your own." Both of them stared at him. "Since last night, we've had many of our people flooding in with stories of death and destruction. They need some semblance of order right now."

"With all due respect, Father." Faith raised her hand. "Shouldn't we be taking back John's land in retaliation?"

"The Collapse is almost upon us, Faith. There is no time. We must focus our efforts on what we have now. Your supply and production of Bliss and Jacobs Army and Armory. I will gather what remains of John's people and shelter them here."

"This wouldn't have happened had you let us help John." Jacob accused.

"Jacob!" Faith exclaimed.

"It is alright, Faith. Jacob is just upset."

"Upset? No, Joseph. I'm furious. John could have held Holland's Valley had he received my Judges or Faith's Angels. Instead, you left him to fend off the rabble on his own."

"It was John's responsibility to claim the Deputy and to reap the region. I had hoped he'd be strong enough to do it. That he could put aside his sins in the name of paradise. But he wasn't strong enough. And you of all people know, Jacob, that only the strong can survive the Collapse."

Jacob's mouth thinned frustratingly. His brother had turned his own philosophy on him. But he was still angry. He was supposed to protect John and he couldn't. He felt like such a failure.

Joseph approached his brother and brought his forehead to his own. "You are strong, Jacob. As am I. John was more lost then anyone and that was his weakness. We must now be stronger in his absence. His death shall not be in vain." Joseph removed himself and walked over to Faith.

"My Faith. My beautiful Faith." He caressed her cheek. "You loved John just as much as us. You too must carry his memory and become stronger from his death."

She nodded. Joseph backed off and walked backwards toward the podium. "'Be on your guard. Stand firm in faith. Be courageous. Be strong. Do everything in love.' I will be giving a eulogy later tonight. Be sure to come."

"Yes, Father."

"Yes, Joseph."

The Father turned his back to them; that was their signal to leave.

The two made it half way down the aisle before Jacob turned back and asked, "Joseph—"

"You are free to aid each other however you wish." Joseph said, already knowing the question. "Only John was to be tested. And he failed." He looked back to them. "I know you two will not."

When they left, Joseph was all alone again in the quaint church. Alone . . . not quite.

'Why? Why did you take my brother?'

. . .

'Did he not suffer enough? As a child? As a young man?'

. . .

'The Deputy must pay for her sins . . . but she is too important.'

. . .

'Yes. I must have faith in your machinations. Jacob and Faith shall handle capturing America Jones.'

. . .

'Just please, take care of my little brother . . . oh Lord and Saviour.'

Fall's End

The wooden door of the Spread Eagle opened with and audible creak. America walked out, Boomer in tow and looked among the populace. Everyone looked busy doing something or another. People transporting supplies from the convenience store, there was a line of cars ready for repairs in front of the mechanics, and many Resistance members were tending to some fighters and rescues. When they saw her though, a few greeted her warmly and more stared at her with wonder.

Even walking down the street people gave her a wide birth. From the looks they gave her it was out of a mixture of awe and respect. Like they felt unworthy to even approach her. It was somewhat unsettling.

America wandered over to the church. They had cleaned up the quaint building since she was out. Gone was the cult graffiti, bliss flowers, blood stains, and the crows. Seriously why the hell did the cult nail crows to a church? What was this the Stone Age?

She walked in. It was somewhat busy inside. People were being tended to; others were cleaning up. America looked at the wall where Nick's skin was nailed to. Someone was still scrubbing that spot.

Looking down at her chest. The bandaged tattoo still stung and would likely scar a little once healed. The gang gave her some medicine from the local doctor to help with the healing and pain. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad. America felt a wave of relief that it didn't get ripped off like Nick's.

Walking further in, America got behind one of the pews and sat down, ignoring all the stares. Boomer rested by her feet, protective of his master now more than ever.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the pew in front of her, and clasped her hands together to start praying.

'Hello . . . ugh, great start, America. Not like you haven't talked to him before. Look, I . . . I don't know where to begin.' She looked at her hands. Gloved, but she could feel the callouses on her skin and they were eerily calm. 'I've killed a lot since this war started. I knew that I would probably kill at some point in this career but this much? So soon? There are cops who haven't seen half the action I have.'

'I've stopped so many bad men and women in the last couple of days . . . and I've just stopped the baddest of them all. Well, one of them. I killed them, because it was my duty as a law enforcer. . . but lately . . . I've been questioning that reason.'

'A policeman is supposed to protect those that can't protect themselves. I had John Seed in the palm of my hands, beaten, defeated . . . and I showed him no mercy . . . I made him suffer before relieving the world of his black soul.'

. . .

'And it felt good . . .'

. . .

'I . . . I need to be better than that. Better than my enemies. I don't want to be like them. So please, give me some guidance. Help me get on the right path again.'

"Deputy Jones!"

America looked back to see Alex and Hannah walk up to her.

"Sorry, were we interrupting?" Alex asked.

America got up. "Don't worry about it. I got my say out. What do ya need?"

"Well . . . we were, uh—"

"We were hoping we could get an interview with you." Hannah jumped in for the nervous Alex.

"Yeah, that. If you don't mind?"

America stared at the two before nodding. "Alright. Let's go somewhere private though."

The two bloggers led America to their van. They got in the back; three chairs already present. They took their seats with America near the back and Alex and Hannah sitting near driver's seat.

"Thank you for doing this, Deputy Jones." Alex said.

"No problem." She looked out the back window. "Get a lot of stories already?"

Alex nodded, both he and Hannah had grim looks on their faces. "Yeah. Interviewed quite a few people from John's Gate. It . . . a lot of it ain't pretty."

"None of it was pretty." America said offhandedly, looking out into space. The cold, enclosed, metal walls, anguish and misery echoing everywhere, a miasma of despair choking you with every step. If Hell exists, then that was a step in the right direction.

Alex activated a recorder and pulled out a notepad. Hannah got out a notepad too. "Now we're hoping to hear your side of things."

America shrugged. "I'll do what I can, but I never stayed in there long enough to be all that affected by it."

'It did leave a mark though.'

"John Seed . . . what did you think of him?"

America sighed. "He was an arrogant son of a bitch. And that's me being polite. He butchered people in the name of God on Joseph's permission." America thumbed up and streaked under her new tattoo. "You know what he does to people, you've seen what happened to Nick Rye and several hundred others. He enjoyed hurting people. No . . . he fucking loved."

"Why do you think that is—ur, was?"

"From what I understand, he had a bad home life. He was beaten and tortured by his family . . . they convinced him that pain was necessary. So, he learned to love it and he spread that love by hurting others."

"The Seeds?"

"He was adopted from what I heard. Joseph just encouraged him."

"He seemed to have it out for you."

"Not surprising. I was the one that cuffed Joseph and tried bringing him in. Then while trying to "Baptize" me Joseph told him he would not be allowed through the Gates of Eden unless he convinced me to join."

"The Father wanted you to join Eden's Gate?"

She shrugged. "I suppose, though I don't know what made me so special. Or even my fellow Deputy, Joey Hudson. For some reason they wanted us alive and brainwashed . . . and wanted hundreds of others dead."

"What can you tell us about the events that led up to John Seed's defeat and the liberation from his bunker?"

America leaned in her chai, pausing to think about what to say.

"Chaotic. Best word to describe the whole debacle. I had just finished a . . . recon mission when I got the call from one of my partners, Grace Armstrong. She had said John took over the town and held the leaders of Fall's End, Jerome Jeffries, Mary May Fairgrave, and Nick Rye, hostage. We formed a plan where I'd distract them for a while, keep the hostages alive long enough for the Resistance to bring in better firepower."

She stroke the tip of her thumb underneath her bandages. "I got this for going in. A memento from the late John Seed. Anyway, we managed to surprise the bastard and his cohorts, wounding him and forcing his followers to drag him out. The Resistance came rushing in, taking the town back and I and several others chased John to his former home that he took back. He escaped in a plane and I chased after him once more in a plane of my own."

"This next part you'll have to ask Nick about, because most of it feels like a blur to me. Had a dogfight with John and with the help of Nick Rye and his flying talents we shot John out of the sky."

"Once again, I gave chase. I cornered the wounded John and took his key." She reached into her shirt and pulled out the very key she used to liberate the people. If you looked close enough, you could see specks of dried blood on it. John's blood.

. . .

. . .

"And then?" Alex pushed.

America fidgeted. "I killed him."

"Was there no better way?"

"Keep in mind there are no survivors of the cult. We have no way of actually holding any of the cultists prisoner. John was badly wounded, exhausted, we were in the middle of nowhere and he wasn't going to give me his bunker key without a fight. He wouldn't stop no matter what; he was too dangerous to just be left alone. So, I ended him."

"How do you think the cult will respond to his demise?"

"The cult? Violently. With the remaining Seed family? Violently and mournfully. They're psychopaths that only care about themselves."

"Quite a statement."

"I've seen first-hand the power Joseph Seed possesses. I've seen people give their lives for him just to ensure his safety and call that a miracle. I have seen him put down innocent men and women and even threaten his own brother with damnation if he didn't do as he was told. I'm being nice by calling them psychopaths."

The rest of the questions were about her thoughts on John's bunker, the survivors, fighting the cult, and the overall victory over Holland Valley. America answered to the best of her ability.

They exited the van and the three shook hands.

"Thank you for the interview, Deputy Jones." Alex thanked.

"Happy to help." She smiled.

"What do you gotta do now?" Hannah asked.

"I'm going over to the Redler home, talk to Red about the weapons he's unlocked."

'And talk about Cassidy, no doubt.'

"See ya around." America said finally and walked away.

The two said their goodbyes and watched her and Boomer get into the Blue Eagle, then drive away.

Whitetail Hideout

"Are these reports true?"

"From what we've seen? Yeah. Definitely."

Eli couldn't stop the smirk from spreading to his lips. Even imagining what Jacob would do to retaliate couldn't completely wipe it away.

"So, Jacob's little brother is dead, huh? That's a step in the right direction." He said.

"And it was this America Jones who killed him? A Sheriff's Junior Deputy?" His partner, Tammy Barnes, asked.

"Yes."

"And yet they didn't have a body." Tammy skeptically implies something.

"If what I heard is true there wasn't anything left to bury." The scout implied.

"Damn!" Eli looked over to the young Native American standing at the table. "Guess the Deputy hated John Seed even more than everyone else."

"Considering she blew up his bunker afterwards, I'd have to agree, Wheaty." Eli said.

"So, she got lucky." Tammy said bitterly. "Big deal. That's no excuse to act like idiots now." She slapped the files onto the table.

"Are you talking about the party they're having tonight?" Wheaty asked naively. He regretted voicing the question as Tammy shot him a look that could kill. And that look has killed.

"Can you actually believe this crap? We're still at war and these morons are celebrating. Fucking civs."

"Now come on, Tammy." Eli tried reasoning. "They killed John Seed, one less herald for us to deal with and gives us more time to fight Jacob. I think that earns them a little R&R."

Tammy didn't agree. "They wanna celebrate? Then they should go over to Fort Drubman and party with those nutjobs."

"Hey come on, Tam, Hurk has—"

"Shut it, Wheaty!"

"Alright, that's enough." Eli tersely defused. "Tammy, the people of Fall's End aren't like us. They deserve a little reprieve from what they've been through. By stopping John, Jacob is cut off from his food supply. Which means . . .?"

Tammy sighed. He wanted her to answer like a fucking grade-schooler. "Which means his army won't get any more food." She consigned.

"Which means they'll slow down a bit! Become weak!" Wheaty added.

"Exactly. Whatever advantage the other factions can give us we should take it. How are the peggies taking this, Jules?

"About as well as you'd expect." Jules answered looking through her own scout report. "Sadly, mournfully . . . violently. There hasn't been much in the way of retaliation. Looks like they're taking anyone in that survived the destruction of John's sect."

"So, Jacob's also getting a boost of numbers?"

"Maybe so. You gotta remember though each Herald runs things differently. John's men are a little soft compared to Jacob's 'soldiers.'" Eli explained.

"Plus, the food shortage you mentioned." Wheaty added. "More people means more mouths to feed."

"That is if Jacob doesn't kill them in his sick training regimen. Then only a few of John's people will live by the end of the week at the latest." Tammy said.

Eli nodded at that. "Is that it, Jules?"

"Pretty much. Do you want us to reach out to the Fall's Enders, boss?"

Eli gave it some thought, then looked to Tammy and Wheaty. The blonde gave a shake of the head, while the 18 year old shrugged unsure. Eli sighed.

"Not yet, let's see what move they make first. The Whitetails take care of their own. We can't carry everybody. Just keep tabs on them for now."

"Yes, sir"

Redler Residence

Wendell typed in the twelves digit code onto the shed's keypad and opened it up. America thought she would see a shed filled to the brim with weapons considering how many the Resistance used to take back Fall's End. But when the door opened, she was disappointed to see shelves and shelves of junk, like ducktape, superglue, and gunpowder. Junk may have been too harsh, but she really expected more.

"What do you think? Impressive haul, no?"

"Uhhh . . ." America responded, unsure exactly how to respond. "It's pretty cool."

Red just burst into laughter suddenly. When he calmed down his fits he said. "Ah, the look your face. No, no, this ain't my Armory. Well, technically it is, it's actual supplies, but this is just to throw people off."

He bent down and pulled off an old rug from the floor. It revealed a hatch, one that also had a keypad on it.

"You sly soldier you." America smirked. "Do you put in the same password?"

"Nah! You put it in reverse."

The Hatch hissed open and Redler stepped aside for her. "Lady's first."

America took a step on the ladder and climbed down. It went about ten feet down by the time she reached the bottom. When she turned around, her face lit up with excitement. The whole armory was made from two, long cargo containers. Lining the walls was black foam and hangers, holding up guns of many varieties from pistols to rocket launchers. There were shelves and tables up against the walls, holding other guns and more ammo then she had ever seen. Open cabinets showed that there were even modifications to add on to the weapons, like sights and silencers. On one side there was a massive stack of ammo crates, each labeled for different calibers. Every gun she saw looked as old as World War 2 weaponry, to guns of modern time today.

"Well, what do you think?" Wendell asked with a smile.

"What do I think? I think you blow every prepper stash in Hope County out of the water. This is incredible!"

"And it's all for the use of the Resistance. And you."

"I'm fairly certain, most of these guns are illegal in the States." She said, idly.

"Am I under arrest?" Red asked, half-joking.

"You won't see me getting my cuffs out." America said, taking an AK down and examining it. "And I don't think anyone's gonna turn you in when all this shit's over with."

"In that case, take whatever you like. Whatever gun you want, it's yours to keep."

America reeled around to face him. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. Everyone else'll have to return my weapons, but you can take and keep whatever you want. Think of it as a reward for saving the town and killin' John."

"Thank you!" She looked around for anything that she fancied. She thought about grabbing the M79 grenade launcher, but she already had a six-shot MGL.

She considered a rocket launcher, but decided against it, thinking it would be too annoying to lug around.

She looked at a stack of pistols and submachine guns, but ignored them. No way would she ever replace Judgement, and SMGs weren't really her style.

But she stopped at a desk holding a complete M60-V. These were a classic version, used during the Vietnam War. Some say that lighter metals were used to make them so soldiers could lug them around with more ease.

'And this one is in perfect condition.'

"I'll take this."

Wendell laughed. "I see you're a fan of big weapons. Believe it or not I was a heavy gunman myself back in the war. Well, if you want it, you can have it. Feel free to modify it however you like."

America checked its ammo capacity and decided to take up that offer of his. She removed the ammo belt and placed a square drum mag on the side that held a bigger capacity. Then she added on a red-dot sight for better accuracy.

When she was done modifying it to her liking, Wendel walked up to her, handing over a wooden box.

"Here. I also want you to have these."

He opened the wooden box, revealing all of the Vietnam Lighters he and Cass had collected. "Your lighters? I can't take these, they belonged to you and your friends."

"Friends who are long gone, America. These things are nothing more than mementos from a bygone age. A war of mistakes and failures. I want you to have them. Give them to people you trust to have your back. Just like the ones that had mine all those years ago."

America reached out to grab them, but Wendell pulled away.

"Just remember, Deputy. These are more than just simple pieces of metal. Their symbols. Leftovers of what people fought for, lived for, and died for. These things contain their beliefs, their ideals, their hopes, their dreams, their lives, and their deaths. You give these to people you KNOW you can trust. People that will bleed for you and die for you . . . and you do the same for them. For that is what it means to be a brother in arms."

Wendell reached in and took out one lighter. "This one's mine."

America took the zippo lighter and looked at the inscription. There was an image of a cowboy, bull-riding a nuke, holding a six-shooter, as he rode down to his death. On the other side it said: "Live like you're dead. Die like you lived."

America felt truly touched by this gesture.

Wendell then offered her the closed box. "I'll take good care of them, Wendell."

"I know you will. And maybe when you find my granddaughter, you can give one to her as well." He said sadly.

America unconsciously swallowed a lump in her throat. "I'll find her sir. We're leaving tomorrow to the Henbane River."

"Good . . . that's good to hear."

. . .

"If you want, sir, I can go to—"

"I'm gonna stop you there, Deputy." He raised his hand. "Cass would want you to celebrate this victory tonight. She told me about how high-strung you've been and how much you deserve to relax. Take it from a Vietnam Vet, kid. Have fun tonight, drink and be merry . . . and then get back to the war. Cass would berate you if you didn't."

America was hesitant to agree to that.

"Cass is a strong woman; she can take care of herself." Red assured.

". . . Okay."

Suddenly, her radio crackled to life. It was Kim's signal.

"Deputy? Ya there?"

America quickly picked up her radio when she heard Kim's voice strain. "Kim? Is everything alright?"

"Uh . . . not quite-ooo-I, uh, could use your help here. MMmmm—no emergency . . . yet. Nick's on his way too, just uh please hurry."

"Kim are you—"

"AH! Hurry please!"

"Sounds like you better get moving." Wendell said.

America started climbing out. "Thanks for everything, Red! 'll see you tonight!"

"You as well, Deputy!"

Dutch's Bunker

Dutch was sitting in his recliner listening to some Bob Dilan on his record player. In his hand was a beer, while his other hand tapped to the beat of the music. For the first time in a long time he was in a good mood. Not since acquiring the rights to this bunker did he ever feel so elated.

"Hey, Uncle."

"JESUS!" Dutch dropped his beer and looked to the doorway where his niece was leaning on. "Jess . . ." He tried controlling his breathing. "Don't scare me like that. Nearly gave me a freakin' heart attack."

"If that's all it took to end you then this bunker would be a waste." The hooded young woman said.

Dutch got out of his seat and walked up to her giving her a hug. "Good to see ya girl. How've ya been?"

"Hungry." She stated and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a beer and a sandwich from the fridge and started eating.

"Still nothing, huh?" Dutch asked.

"Yeah." She replied in a low growl. "You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find someone that likes cookin' people alive."

"Actually, I could. With hobbies like that, would you want to be found?" He joked slightly. "So, you hit a dead end?"

"Not quite. I heard the Cook hangs around the old Lumber Mill in the mountains. I'll probably stake out there for a while."

"Just be careful."

"It's me, Dutch."

"That's why I'm telling you to be careful. You're a good hunter, Jess. The best, I'll say. But you're also too . . . eager."

"Don't beat around the bush with me, Dutch. I'm in no mood for that horseshit. Tell me whatch'ya really mean." She practically growled.

"I heard what you did to the Dentist."

Jess smiled and pulled out her own personal baseball bat. It was a simple wooden one, painted blue . . . it also had numerous teeth nail into it.

"Fucker got what was coming to him."

"He did. But you just charged in there without thinkin'. You weren't a hunter, you were maniac."

"He's dead, Dutch. That's all there is to it."

The old man just sighed tiredly. What could he do to pull her out of that darkness? He of all people was not good at turning folks from their directions. That's how he got stuck in this bunker with no friends or family.

"So why are you just sitting on your ass here? What's put an old sour bastard like you into a good mood." She took a drink of her beer.

"John Seed's dead." He smiled

Jess nearly choked on her beer. "What?! You mean . . ." Dutch nodded. "Little Brother Bitch is dead?

Dutch nodded again, making Jess smile widen. The widest he had seen in a long, long time. "So, the rumors are true. Explains all the commotion I was hearing over there last night."

"He was killed by a Deputy. The one I saved a while back. She's been putting the screw to the cult ever since. Now, John's dead, his bunker's in shambles, and Holland Valley is mostly free from the cult. The whole region's setting up the Testy Festy to celebrate."

That last part flipped the woman's mood right around. "We're still in the middle of a goddamn war and these fuckers want to party? And you're okay with this? Fuckin' seriously?"

Dutch sighed. "They need this Jessica. John's taken a lot from them; friends, family, homes, normal lives. This'll be good for them."

"And while they're all gettin' drunk and having a good time, the cult's gonna still be going after everyone else." She threw back.

"I say they've earned this small reprieve. Especially Deputy Jones."

"Deputy Jones." She scoffed. "Is she really all that?"

"The lady practically brought the Resistance in the Holland Valley together, killed John Seed personally, and blew up his base of operations, saving hundreds of lives. The woman has survived by the skin of her teeth and faced death more times than anyone else. Yeah. She is 'all that.'"

. . .

Jess wasn't really sure how to respond to that. She knew her Uncle. He didn't respect anyone like this unless he knew they deserved it.

She'll give credit where credit is due: Deputy Jones killed John Seed and she probably killed a shit ton of peggies to do that. That she could respect.

Jess finished the rest of her beer and sandwich and started heading out.

"Later, Dutch."

"You should consider asking the Deputy to help you, Jess!" Dutch called. "I know she would."

"I don't need her help. Anyone's help. I'm fine on my own."

"You need someone to watch your back." Dutch reasoned.

Jess frowned . . . more. "I work better alone." She couldn't rely on anyone but herself.

With that last word she left Dutch alone. The old vet sighed exhaustedly.

'Jess . . . you need someone. Even if you survive this war, you won't make it on your own.'

The Rye Residence

America burst through the Rye's front door when she heard Kim scream in pain. The woman was on her couch, clutching her swollen belly like someone had kicked her . . . and someone probably did.

'Oh god!' America thought with rising dread.

"Where the fuck is Nick?" Kim screeched. "Oh God!"

"I don't—"

"Whoa! What the hell is going on, Kim?" Nick interrupted when he came through the door. He went immediately to Kim's side.

"Where the fuck have you been?! Gimme your hand." She took his hand gripping it tightly. "Our little girl decided it's time."

Behind his aviators, America could see the immediate panic in his eyes. "No, no, no, no, no, no. Nick Junior isn't supposed to be due for another week—owow!" Nick leaned down when Kim tightened her hold. "Ow, Kim you're hurtin' my hand. You're hurtin' my hand."

"We got to get to the car." Kim reached out for America to take her other hand. The Deputy quickly did as she asked.

Both America and Nick picked Kim up and slowly took her to the car.

"I brought my truck we can—" Once again, America was interrupted, but this time by Kim.

"No! We're taking my SUV." Kim growled.

"Sorry 'bout that." Nick apologized meekly. "She only ever feels safe on the road with that car. It was one of our agreements that she would be delivered in that car. C'mon, c'mon, oh, owowow—ah you're so strong."

They got Kim out the door and slowly down the three steps. Then they headed toward a 2011 Range Rover parked in the driveway. It was a bulky vehicle with roof lights, a luggage rack on top, and had a brownish-green field camo for a paintjob.

"OK, OK, OK." Nick said breathlessly, trying to calm himself down. "Deputy, you're driving." He handed her the keys.

"LET'S GO!" Kim screamed. "Oh God . . ."

"Ow, ow, Deputy get the door, hurry."

America quickly rushed around the two and got the door. Slowly, the two got in, Kim groaned with every movement and Nick kept whimpering from his hand being crushed. The situation would be laughable to America if she wasn't in the thick of it. When they were both in, America shut the door, got in the driver seat and started the car.

She looked back to ask if they needed anything else, but as soon as she locked eyes with the manic mother—

"DRIVE!"

America didn't even register the spit that got on her face and floored it.

"Hang a left when you get ooww—out!"

"ERRRRR! Let's go!" Kim kicked the back seat.

"I'm going! I'm GOING!" America shouted back anxiously.

The SUV kicked up a dust storm as they zoomed out onto the road. She took a left as Nick told her.

But things started getting bumpy once she got on the dirt road.

"You're gonna be okay, Kim! The Deputy knows how to drive."

"JUST. DRIVE."

"Casey taught me some stress reducing breathing techniques."

"The fuck is that?"

"It's breathing for—"

"NOT THAT. THAT!" She pointed at the road where a truck had toppled over and pigs were running everywhere on the road.

"PIGS!" Nick shouted. "Look out for the PIGS!"

"Who gives a fuck about the GODDAMN PIGS?!"

America serpentined around the squealing livestock. She was gritting her teeth she was scared so much!

"Take a right up here!" Nick guided.

America turned the wheel hard, making a sharp turn.

"See? This ain't so bad."

"Yeah? HAAAAA . . . do you wanna switch roles?" Kim snapped.

"Uh . . . no. I'm just saying!"

Right now, America was doing fiftyfive on a twentyfive mile an hour road and there was no chance for a stop. She was coming onto a fork in the road. One went left, the other right, and one went straight toward the Kellett Ranch

"Alright, Nick, which way?" America asked.

"Oh! Nick, your nervousness is making me more nervous!" Kim yelled.

"And your nervousness is making me more nervous!" Nick argued.

"Nick, which way?"

"If you just calm down—MMMmAAHH!"

"I'M TRYIN'!"

"Niiick, what direction do I have to take?" America asked worriedly.

"Try HARDER!" Kim got in his face.

"OKAY!"

"NICK!"

"Just take whatever gets us there faster!"

"FINE!"

America stepped on the peddle and went straight . . . straight into the Kellett Ranch.

"Oh shit!" America honked the horn. "GET OUTTA THE WAAAY!"

The car rushed through the ranch and anyone that was in its way dove for safety. Without thinking, America crashed through the wooden fence and tore through the cow pen. She left tracks on the grassy plain, before getting back on the main road . . . after crashing through another fence.

"Please give me some direction, please." America squeaked stressfully. Behind her both soon-to-be parents had gob-smacked looks on their faces.

"Right, uh . . . take a right."

Both expecting parents leaned to the left when America drifted hard to the right.

"Nick . . . just give her proper directions." Kim groaned. "We need to get there intact!"

"I know, I know! I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm sorry, Deputy."

"Look!" America started, putting her sight on them for a second. "I know you're both stressed right now, but if we're gonna get there in time I need—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

America looked back at the road and saw a bridge on fire. A tanker had crashed into the railing and toppled. There was no turning around or slowing down. So, America sped up, swerved around the tanker and zoomed over the fire.

Somehow, they had gotten through unscathed.

"Ok . . . ok . . . it's over." Kim sighed relieved.

Then her and her husband's bodies jerked left and right. Looking out on the road again, there were bales of hay littered on the road. The Deputy was turning the wheel hard to not hit any of them.

"Where did all this hay come from?!" Nick shouted.

And then came the next bridge . . .

"Oh GOD." Kim looked horrifyingly at the makeshift ramp, leaning on a trailer truck.

"Hang tight, Kim!"

The SUV flew off the ramp and landed with a hard, jumpy slam.

"WHO IS PUTIING ALL THIS SHIT ON THE ROAD!" Kim screeched frustratingly. The jump made her stomach hurt more. "What is going on? This makes no sense!"

"Maybe it's a full moon?"

Both women looked at him.

"Uuhh . . . take a left here, Deputy."

America put her eye back on the road. It was clear this time and the Deputy thought they were clear for the moment . . . but then she looked up. Just before they got to the bridge, they heard a distinctly familiar noise.

"What is that?" Kim said disbelievingly. A shadow had passed over them.

"That's a plane, Kim." Nick answered matter of factly. To which his wife increased the pressure on his hand. "Owowow!"

Kim took several deep breaths. "I know it's a plane, but why is it on FIRE?"

True enough the plane flew overhead, burning for whatever reason . . . and it was getting dangerously close.

'WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! This is supposed to be a simple delivery, why is the world trying to stop me?!' America freaked out mentally.

She didn't stay on that thought as she stepped on the pedal all the way to the floor, trying to outrun the fucking plane!

"We're gonna make it!" Nick shouted hopefully. The car was ahead of the plane, but that could easily change. "Floor it Deputy!"

"IT IS FLOORED!"

America didn't dare look back! She didn't even glance at the rearview. Her entire body tensed tighter and tighter for every second she heard the plane's engine and spinning blade.

*BOOOOOMMM!*

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

Both Kim and Nick screamed off their heads, gasping for air. America finally peeked in her mirrors and saw a large, blazing fire behind them. She didn't want to think about how close that plane was when it crashed.

"We made it! We made it." Kim breathed relieved.

"Kim, you okay?"

The woman grabbed her husband by the beard and brought him face to face. "NO. No, I am not ok. None of this is OK!"

"Oh, for God's sake!" America exasperated.

On the road there were some idiots racing tractors on the road. America honked the horn and serpentined around them.

"Alright partner, it's just up ahead. Take a shortcut through the woods."

"You got it!"

"No shortcut! Hang a right, then a left. Stay on the road." Kim insisted aggravatingly. She was in no mood for any more surprises.

"O-okay!"

"Take the shortcut!"

"Stay on the road!"

"SHORTCUT!"

"ROAD!"

"SHORTCUT!"

"ROAD!"

"I want this over with now!" America screamed, entirely fed up with all of this insane crap. "I'm taking the fucking shortcut!"

For the umpteenth time she stomped on the gas pedal and drove the SUV onto a dirt road that went up. It was spacious enough that the SUV could fit, but narrow enough she couldn't maneuver well. And that really sucked because a bunch of deer bounded in front of her.

'AM I GONNA HAVE TO KILL SOMETHING TO DELIVER A BABY?!'

By some miracle she avoided the deer and the local clinic was right in front of them. They were coming in too hot though that the normal breaks weren't cutting it. The Deputy grabbed the emergency break and pulled that. The vehicle drifted, coming to a grinding halt right in front of the clinic's garage.

The doctor and nurses came out wondering what the commotion was about. When they saw Nick carrying his wife out of the car they immediately knew and helped the pregnant woman into the building.

One of the nurses checked up on the Deputy. They found her staring ahead, shaking like a leaf, with a frenzied look on her face, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly she was practically fused to it. It took them a few minutes to coax the shellshocked woman out, bringing her into the clinic more gently like she was the one that needed the medical attention instead of the pregnant woman.

By the time America had come to, snapping out of her daze, Kim was already in the operating room with Nick. The nurses had given America a glass of water to calm her nerves. The woman shakily took it with thanks. They also gave her some extra medication for her tattoo wound, to stop any pain or infection from spreading.

Once the nurse was out of the room, helping with the birth, America released a long, fatigued, stress-filled sigh. She slumped in her chair; her whole body felt like jelly now.

'GOOOOOOOOOOOD. I need a nap.' She looked up at the clock. 'The party's not for another couple of hours and the Rye's should be taking their time.'

The Deputy looked over at a cushioned bench and decided to catch some Z's while she waited. Finishing the glass of water she walked over to the bench and lied down.

The moment her head hit the cushion though, her radio came to life.

"Hey, Rook!" It was James calling. Her eyes opened wide in irritation. She answered it in a way only an insane person would.

"WHAT?!"

"Uh . . . you okay?"

America decided to tone it down a little. "What is it, James?"

James seemed to ignore her annoyed voice and answered. "You're never gonna believe this, a team of fighters and I were chasing some peggies off over near the Copperhead Railyard—"

"How interesting." She said sarcastically.

"Let me finish! We chased them to the water and you'll never guessed what they were going to use to get out of here?"

. . .

"Rookie?"

America sighed, dropping her head. "What?"

"Clutch Nixon's floatplane!"

America's eyes widened and her tiredness slowly ebbed away. "Stars and Stripes?"

"The very one and she's perfectly intact."

As much as she wanted a nap, America sprung to her feet and was nearly out the door. "You said it was near the Copperhead Railyard? I'm heading to you now."

After informing a curious nurse on where she was going, the Deputy took the Rye's SUV and drove down to the river.

It was Clutch Nixon's plane! No way would she wait to see a piece of history like that! Also, she promised to return every Clutch Nixon memorabilia to the Clutch Nixon Museum. She promised!

Hope County Prison

"Sheriff! Sheriff!"

A scout burst through the prison's control room. Three people were in there standing around a table. A young 20s Black woman dressed like a punk wearing a sleeveless hood and sweatshirt. A bespectacled sixty-year-old bald man with a combover wearing a vest. And the sheriff himself.

"What is it, Peter? We're in the middle of a meeting." Whitehorse stated annoyed.

"Sorry, Sheriff, but we got news from Holland Valley."

"What news?" Tracey asked skeptically.

"Good news?" Vergil asked hopefully.

"Actually, it is. John Seed is dead."

That news was definitely not what they were expecting.

"Are you sure?" Vergil asked, now really afraid to get his hopes up.

"There's no body, but his bunker was destroyed and several eyewitnesses saw his plane go down in a dogfight."

"You think that's what all that commotion was about yesterday?" Tracey asked the two older men.

"Must be." The Sheriff stroked his amazing mustache, intrigued. "You're sure there's no body?"

"Positive. But—and you'll be interested in this sheriff—his bunker key was used to release his captive prisoners."

"Why would that interest me?"

"Because it was one of your deputies who did it."

Now that did surprise him and the other two Cougar Leaders.

"Which one?"

The scout looked through their own notes. "The new one? A rookie?"

"America Jones?" Whitehorse said surprised.

"I thought you said all your deputies were captured?" Tracey asked suspiciously.

"I thought they were. Guess Rook somehow got away. Are you sure it's her?"

"They all kept calling her Deputy. And I even got a look at her. She was wearing John's bunker key around her neck."

"Damn." Tracey said.

"Well this is good news!" Vergil stated happily. "One of the Heralds have been taken out of the picture."

"Yeah and that's likely going to piss off the other siblings. Faith loved John, she going to try and hit us even harder now. I can guarantee it." Tracey added negatively.

"Your both right." Whitehorse balanced. "John Seed's death will have benefits and repercussions. We roll with the punches. For now we should try and make contact with Fall's End leaders. Start getting some extra man power, food, and medicine."

Everyone agreed with the Sheriff's plan.

Hope County Clinic

A couple hours passed when America returned to the clinic to pick up the Rye Family. By then the sun was slowly setting.

America arrived by the lake at a nearby docks where James and few resistance fighters were waiting. Then she saw it and her exhaustion was replaced with elation. There was Clutch Nixon's plane, decorated like the US Flag, red white and blue, stars and stripes. And that's what Clutch called it, symbolizing how it would never touch the ground on promise of burning it in official ceremony.

The vehicle was a gift from Nick's father from what she recalled of its origins. The stuntman and the old pilot were best buds and would dare each other to do stupid things . . . while drunk.

Both America and James admired the machine for a bit before discussing who would fly it back. They rock, paper, scissors for it. To James disappointment, he lost to the Rookie.

She asked him to take the Rye's SUV to the museum and wait for her there. He agreed and took the keys.

America hopped in Stars and Stripes and took to the sky. She was so happy at the time and filled with excitement she decided to do something crazy for herself for the hell of it.

Perform the Spray and Pray!

And performed it she did. She flew all over the river shooting any Peggie structures she spotted; like idols of the Father, bliss shrines, and giant signs of cult propaganda. Originally, they were just huge targets that Clutch shot, but America felt no one would mind the alternative.

After successfully performing the stunt and getting it all on a Go-Pro she had, she returned the plane to the museum. Darrel Grammar was beyond words when he saw the plane fly by. He directed her to the pool of water on the side of the building that led to the interior of the museum. America landed perfectly and brought the plane in.

America then showed off her video to both James and Darrel. Both men were shocked at what she did, Grammar congratulated her and James was jealous that she had once again, performed another of Clutch Nixon's stunts perfectly.

America received the SUV back and returned to the clinic. Just in time as it looked like the Rye Family was ready to leave.

Nick was pushing Kim out on a wheelchair. Kim no longer had her bulge of a belly. In her hands was their new bundle, wrapped in a pink blanket with airplanes on it.

"Hey." Nick said hushly. "You ready to meet your goddaughter?"

America was once again smacked with surprise as she looked between the new parents and the baby.

"Are you serious?"

"After everything you did for us . . . it only felt right." Kim said.

"You saved my life, beat John Seed, and then saved the whole County. This was the least we could do." Nick praised.

"You don't mind, do you?" Kim asked unsurely.

America could not fully express how happy she was. With everything that has happened, she almost kinda forgot what pure joy felt like.

"I ... am ... so honored. Thank you, you two."

America kneeled down and looked at one of the purest things in the world. The baby was sleeping, but it's scrunched face indicated that it was aware of the weird new noises around her.

"She's beautiful."

"Yeah." Nick said with a joyful smile. "Looks like I'll have to change the name of my business after all." He joked.

"So, have you two settled on a name?" She asked coyly. She had seen the list of names Nick wanted to call their kid. And she knew how much Kim didn't want to name their daughter after her husband.

"It was . . . some debate." Kim said. "But we did agree on one."

"Partner, meet Carmina America Rye."

America first smiled at the first name of her new goddaughter, then she jerked her head to look at the two in surprise once more.

"Really?" Her name as the girl's middle name?

"We couldn't think of a more perfect name for her." Kim smiled. The mother reached out and grabbed America's hand. "You've done so much for us. For our home. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, we'll be there for you. All of us."

They both smiled. Nick placed his hand on Kim's shoulder and that was when America saw it was bandaged up. Kim touched his hand, making the new father recoil back and wince a little.

The Deputy chuckled, smiling like the rest of them. At this moment she felt truly blessed. Maybe God was watching out for her.

"Come on. The Testy Festy is still on and you two've just given us another thing to celebrate about." She opened the door for them. "Get in, I'm driving."

Driving the SUV, America drove back to Fall's End. They held the party at the open fields, outside of town, near a park and baseball diamond. When they arrived, there was already crowds of people converging on the place. Many got out of the way for her, allowing her to park the car. Everyone was apparently waiting for her.

When America got out of the car, Mary got onto higher ground via a truck, getting everyone's attention.

"Here she is! The woman of the hour!" Mary May declared. Everyone started clapping, cheering, hollering, and whistling for her.

America looked around at all of them with a stunned look. She couldn't believe all the admiration being poured on her.

After almost a full minute of applause, America raised her arms to quiet everyone down. "I appreciate all your praise, but I'm not the only that should be lauded." She opened the car door. "Everyone, I'd like you all to meet Hope County's newest resident."

Kim and Nick stepped out, holding a snoozing Carmina.

"Hi, y'all." Nick greeted bashfully.

Kim beamed. "This is our little bundle of joy. Our special little miracle . . . everyone . . . meet Carmina America Rye"

Everyone erupted into cheers again. Probably more uproariously then they did for America. Carmina started crying from all the noise making many apologize and laugh.

"As if we didn't have enough things to celebrate—let's get this party started!" Mary yelled.

The festival came to life and everyone started doing something or another. From what America was told there were usually rides and carnival games present during the Testy Festy, but thanks to the cult they were forced to make do with what they had.

They had a dancing ring in the center of the field made of hay bales. People danced to the music blasting from some guy's truck woofers. Sometimes they'd turn off the truck's amps and play their own music. Folks playing harmonicas, guitars, violins, and even a piano someone had loaded onto their pickup.

Casey and a couple other cooks were serving food. Burgers, hotdogs, brats, chicken, egg salad, beans, the local alcohol called Whistling Beaver Beer, water, and finally the main dish: bull testicles.

What games people could set up on such short notice were horseshoes, beanbag toss, arm wrestling, slingshot, and archery. They were even giving out prizes to those who won.

America started with some food and headed toward the stands. She got herself a plate of chicken legs potato salad, and "blue" caviar. She took a seat at one of the long tables and after a long moment of hesitant staring ... took a bite of the oyster.

'Nothing ventured.'

America was surprised to find the meat filled with flavor as it burst in her mouth.

'Mmm! That's not bad!' Before she knew it, the blue oysters were gone from her plate.

Mary May and Jerome joined her at her table with their own plates.

"Enjoying some Montana cuisine, America?" Mary asked wryly.

America took a bite of salad before answering. "I can see why you guys eat these. They're delicious!"

Both Jerome and Mary laughed. "Glad you've taken a shine to them." Jerome said.

The Pastor and the Bartender looked down and saw Boomer looking up at them expectantly. The two caved and gave him some of their food.

"Most folks, especially new ones to our county, have a hard time adjusting to them." Mary said.

"I can't imagine why." America replied sarcastically.

They both smiled. "I hope you get more moments like this, Deputy." Jerome said.

She looked at them quizzically.

"Moments of happiness." He clarified. "After everything you've done for us, you deserve it."

"We all deserve to be happy. Well everyone but the cult."

"Amen to that!" Mary said taking a drink of her beer. The other two did so as well. "Oh! In all the excitement we forgot to give you your weapons back."

Both Jerome and Mary placed the Farmhand and Fall's Ghost on the table to give to her. America looked at the fine weapons, excellently crafted for true Hope County residents. She slid them back to the Resistance Leaders.

"You two keep them. I got plenty of new weapons from Red. Use them to keep Falls End safe in my absence."

They smiled appreciatively.

"You got it Deputy." Jerome said, taking back the Farmhand.

"Sure thing, America." Mary nodded, grabbing Fall's Ghost.

Suddenly, there was a loud uproar catching the three's attention. Over near the games, was apparently an arm-wrestling contest. Merle was facing off against Grace. The redneck looked like he was struggling more and Grace handily beat him, slamming the back of his hand down on the table. Making the crowd cheer once more.

"Looks like Grace is whoopin' 'em." Jerome mentioned.

"You got a strong arm, America. Think you can beat her?" Mary asked.

The Deputy finished her meal and stood up. "I know I can."

The crowd made way for her as she strode to the table. Grace had just beaten another person easily, vacating the seat for the Deputy. America sat down, planted her elbow on the table and held out her open palm.

The crowd started murmuring excitedly.

"Deputy." Grace smiled. "You think you got what it takes to bring me down?"

America smiled back challengingly. "You're a better shot then I am, Grace. But when it comes to arm strength, I got you beat."

Grace's smile broadened at the woman's confidence and respectively grasp the Deputy's hand.

"If you win this Deputy, I'll give you my Lucky Belt Buckle!" Merle shouted.

That outburst got everyone shouting, placing bets, and cheering the two on.

"Ready?" America asked.

"On three?" America nodded. "One."

"Two."

"Three!"

Their arms locked up, the crowd hollered even more, drawing in more people to see two of their heroes duke it out. Grace knew America had some strong hands and arms, but even she was a bit surprised by the force behind them. America brought her half way down just as they started.

Grace got back some control and pushed America's arm past the starting point. The two women grit their teeth, their arms jiggled under the strain of both their strengths. For a while it looked like they were even . . .

But then America started pushing and pushing and pushing, until she finally pinned Grace's backhand to the table. The Deputy stood up, arms raised, victorious. The crowd cheered for their deputy and started passing out winnings.

America offered the less-tired hand to the soldier. "Good game."

Grace shook her hand. "Back attcha, damn you're strong."

Merle slapped the woman's back, laughing heartily. "Way to go, Dep! I knew you could do it. For beating our Olympic winner here, I give you my lucky beltbuckle. May it serve you well."

"Uh, thanks, Merle." Honestly, it was a cool looking buckle. It was gold in color and had the image of a horse skull on it. Behind the skull was the state of Montana with a star marking where Hope County was.

The arm wrestling went on, but America decided to leave so everyone had a fair chance. She spotted her fellow deputies sitting among each other, Hudson and Heller. America decided to join them.

The two looked somber as they were talking.

"Hey you two." She sat down next to James. "What's goin' on?"

"James and I were just discussing . . . that night."

"She means the night the peggies went mad . . . er." James clarified.

"When I was pulled outta that helicopter, Rookie . . . I didn't think I'd see you or anyone else ever again. The peggies were all around me, touching me, telling me everything was going to be alright . . . while kicking the shit outta me. Then they handed me off to that slime, John Seed"

"What about Pratt?" James asked. "He was there with you guys."

"He got nabbed like me, but he was handed over to Jacob."

"Shit." James cursed. "If you thought John was bad, you're lucky you weren't handed over to the eldest Seed sibling. The things Jacob does to even his own people . . . fuck."

"I've only read about Jacob." America said. "Is he really that bad?" She honestly couldn't believe there was someone worse than John.

"John tortured, but he made sure that most of his victims were alive to join the cult. Jacob on the other hand'll break you until you're either with him or dead. Before all this, most of the murders in Hope County could be traced back to that ginger-fuck." James shuddered. "I'm glad we're not going after him yet."

"Why's that?" America asked.

"The cult's strongest forces are with Jacob. They have the most firepower and more manpower than both John and Faith combined. If we want to take the fight to the cult's army itself, we gotta weaken them first."

"And taking out Faith and her production of Bliss will definitely cripple those fuckers." Joey added.

"We'll go where we're needed." America stated. "But you're both right. We gotta whittle the cult's power down piece by piece."

"Hey, Jones!" Nick called, interrupting. The three looked over at the shooting range. A crowd of people were having an archery contest and Nick was calling America over.

"What is it, Nick?"

"You think you can beat my score?" He challenged with a cocky grin. "So far I've beaten the best here, but everyone's saying you can out shoot me."

America smirked and stood up. "Go get 'em, tiger!" Joey encouraged. "You got this, Rookie!" James cheered.

When she got to the stand, she picked up a bow and gave it a couple of tugs. She looked out at the range and saw three targets, each a different distance from one another. There were many arrows littering the ground, but only two stuck to the farthest target board. Nick flashed her his charming smile, dripping with cockiness.

"So, you think you can beat me?" He asked. "You have used one of these before, right, partner?"

America smirked back. "I've had some practice." She started. "I'm a decent shot, but it's been some time since I had to use a bow properly."

"Well, you just try your best. No shame in failing."

America kept his smirk plastered on, even as she pulled back on the arrow professionally. Nick lost some of his arrogance when he saw how effortlessly the Deputy pulled back on her bow. Then it was completely gone when the arrow hit a bullseye on the farthest target.

The crowd cheered, but America silenced them with her hand as she readied the next arrow.

"Don't worry, Nick." America said, while holding the arrow back. "There's no shame in coming in second place." The arrow was released and soared through he air, impacting the bullseye right next to America's first arrow.

The crowd cheered once more. The kept saying "One more!" "One more!" "One more!" She just needs to get one more arrow to beat Nick's score.

"Seriously? It was pure luck I got that second bullseye. My third arrow barely even made it to the second farthest target. How are you so good at this?"

"My dad always believed any idiot could shoot a gun. But only a real marksman can shoot a bow. So, before he let my mom teach me to shoot a gun, he taught me to shoot a bow."

She pulled back on the string and fired without even looking. It was a perfect bullseye.

"Of course, it's not moving, so . . ." She boasted casually. Hoops and hollers erupted as the crowd cheered for their beloved hero once again.

Nick shook his head playfully, and shook the Deputy's hand. "Not bad, partner."

"Cheer up, Nick." She said playfully. "You're still a damn better pilot then me. That's why I'm on the ground and you're up in the sky."

Nick laughed. "Damn straight! Well, you can pick out whatever prize you want." He pointed to folding table holding a number of prizes people could win.

She saw stuff like antique signs, lamps, a case of beer, an old holster, and a bunch of other random junk. Once she scanned over everything, she saw one thing she really liked. She grabbed herself a pair of pink brass knuckles.

"Really?" Nick gave her a look.

"What? I like pink."

Nick raised his hands. "Whatever you say, partner. Come on, I'll get you a beer."

He brought America over to a table where Kim was sitting at. The new mother was holding little Carmina, rocking her back and forth.

"How's Carmina doing with all these new things?" America gestured all around her.

"She's a tough girl. Has only cried once from all the noise." Kim smiled.

"That's my baby girl." Nick cooed.

America smiled warmly as the newly grown Rye family bonded. Their love honestly reminded her of her own family; of her parents. She wondered how her own parents were. Have they tried contacting her? Did they even know what was going on in Hope County?

The Deputy wished she had people she was familiar with by her side. For all the praise she's gotten, she was still new to Hope County. An outsider. There were many people she would call friends here, but no one she's known for a long time.

"You alright, America?" Kim asked, seeing the disconcerted look on the deputy's face.

"Oh! I'm fine, really. You three just look so beautiful together. You're lucky to have each other in these times."

Nick and Kim both smiled and grasped each other's hands lovingly. "Yeah. We're very lucky to still be together." Kim said.

"How did you two meet?" America asked, trying to shift her emotions to something else.

"We met when I was still in college. Some friends dragged me out here to celebrate and signed up for an aerial tour of the county." Kim answered.

"Your friends were a wily bunch." Nick remembered. "Kept moving all over Carmina. You were the only one appreciating the ride. Even complimented my flying skills. That one some points with me immediately."

Kim giggled. "I fell in love with the County. It looked so beautiful from up high and you were able to show me that. I came back a couple more times after that to see the sights. One time I came back by myself and Nick tried showing off."

Nick laughed. "I did a bunch of tricks that usually caused people to be sick, but Kim found it a lot of fun. Any woman that can handle five barrel rolls, is someone I want to get to know."

"I told him, 'If you wanted to ask me out, all you had to do was ask.'"

"And then I did! We clicked immediately! Went on several dates, and got engaged in a year."

"Wow! That fast?" America asked.

"Like Nick said, we just clicked. We both love the great outdoors, love flying, and we're both rebellious. Hey, you remember that club I took you to, on one of our first dates?"

"The one with the cheap ass booze, but the best dance floor ever?"

"Yeah."

"Heh, yeah. Man, we danced the whole night away then. God, it's been so long since we did something like that."

The Deputy looked out at the dance floor. At the moment they were playing a swinging song: Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Many people were dancing to foot-tapping song.

"If you two want I can watch Carmina for you while you go have some fun." America suggested, nodding to the dance floor.

"I appreciate that, hon, but it's okay." Kim assured.

"Come on, Kim, it's been a while since we danced! Plus, Carmina can bond with her godmother for a little bit." Nick softly pushed.

"I don't know . . ." Kim said hesitantly.

"She's just been born, Kim, I won't force you. I just thought you'd want to have a little fun before the night is out." America said.

Kim looked down at her baby and then to her husband. It really had been a long time since she and Nick could just relax. The pregnancy, the cult, everything, it had been months since they even went on a date.

"If you're okay with watching her, America . . ."

The Deputy smiled. "You two go have a dance, I'll watch little Carmina."

"Well, alright."

"Yes! Thanks, partner."

Kim handed over her baby to the Deputy, then got dragged over to the dance floor by her eager husband.

America smirked amusedly. She looked down at the tiny being in her arms. Still too small to even open her eyes, but was very aware of the new world around her.

"Hey Carmina. Your parents are something special." America started a one-way conversation with the child. "And I can tell your just as special as them." She saw a twitch of the of the lips and a short furrow of the baby's brow. "I might be jumping the gun here, but I think you're gonna grow up to do something great. I don't know what, but I see a bright future for you."

'Not if the peggies win here.' A rogue thought invaded the front of her mind.

It was true, if by some god forsaken miracle were to fall in Joseph Seed's favor then any future for the child in her arms would be lost. Carmina would . . .

"No." She affirmed determinedly. "I won't let that happen. If fighting the cult wasn't enough for my duty as a police officer, then fighting for you definitely will be. For you, Carmina, I will win this war."

It could have been nothing, but she could have sworn she saw the babe smile at her. The brief moment made her laugh and cry at the same time. She placed her forehead against Carmina's in a gentle-form of a hug.

The Ryes returned to their baby after a few minutes of loose dancing. Just in time as Carmina started crying. Kim took her baby back, placing it on her shoulder and patting it while shushing and cooing at her.

"Thanks for that, partner."

"You can always count on me."

"I know we can." Kim smiled.

Nick suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have a surprise, partner."

"A surprise?"

"Yeah. Wait here, I'll bring it in." He ran off, not even waiting for her to ask anything about it.

"I don't suppose you know what he's doing?" She asked the wife.

"Not a clue, but he sure was damn excited about it."

About a minute later, Nick and a couple of others walked through the party carrying something large, covered in a tarp. They set it down on a nearby table that was empty.

"Hey, Deputy! Check out what we found!"

Both the Deputy and Kim got up to see what the commotion was about.

"Tada!" Nick yelled dramatically.

They pulled off the tarp and showed a beat-up propeller.

"What is it?" America asked, not really sure what she was looking at.

"It's the propeller from John's plane, the Affirmation." Nick answered. America's eyes widened and focused on the object. It was dirty, scuffed and bent in some places.

"We found where John's plane crashed. The whole thing was totaled, but we managed to salvage this."

"Why'd you bring it back?" People started gathering around to look at the busted-up piece of junk.

"Because when you liberate Hope County, this is gonna be proof of your bravery and dedication to this County. A relic to remind people what happened here and who took down John Seed." Nick said.

Mary spoke up next, actually elated about this. "People are gonna want to know what happened here. And this piece will tell a part of that story."

"Huh." America said, looking back at the propeller. "I never thought about it like that. I suppose if—when we win the war, Hope County's gonna remember it for a long time."

"It's gonna remember you for a long time, America, if we have anything to say about it." Nick stated earnestly.

America smiled at everyone appreciating her. It was so moving, so touching, it almost made her cry. "Thank you everyone . . . thank you, all."

And after that, the rest of the night was filled with drinking, eating, laughter, dancing, and games! The whole shebang made the war feel nonexistent, like it was so many years ago. Honestly, America was thankful for that. Even if it was only for a night, it was nice to just forget all the troubles around them and just cut loose.

The party would slow to a crawl, however, and midnight rolled in. They would have the party go all night, but people needed sleep and the memory of the war would rise with the sun. But everyone was happy regardless.

America, Joey and James all held each other by their shoulders as they drunkenly tried to enter the Spread Eagle.

"Come'n, one foot in front of other, guys." Joey slurred.

"I got it, I got it." James said. He then tripped over the doorway. Thankfully, he had a laughing America to catch him.

"Nice going."

"Eh, shut up."

Mary and Jerome followed the three to make sure they didn't hurt themselves. The blonde woman went to the kitchen to make them something to ease the drunkenness and Jerome helped settle the three deputies down so they didn't rile up again.

"You three look like you had a good time." Jerome said.

"We had'a great time!" America cheered "We should do this again, more often."

Jerome smirked. "After the war."

"Right . . . after that . . . we should definitely do that! Fuck the Seeds!"

"Yeah Fuck'em!" James agreed.

"Fuck'em with a spiky dildo!" Joey added.

Mary came back with a plate of soup and crackers. "Eat these before you go to bed guys, it'll help reduce the hangover tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mary."

"Yeah, thanks, Mary."

"I love you."

Mary jerked hearing James say that, who probably didn't even know he said that. Blushing, the girl smacked the guy in the back of the head.

"Shut up, you idiot and eat, then go to bed."

The three silently started eating. As they did, someone came rushing into the bar in a panic.

"Deputies, Pastor, Mary I'm glad you're here, the cult's on the TV! You should see this!" The guy didn't give them a word in when he turned on the hanging TV. After flipping to a certain signal, the cult's leader, The Father, spoke.

Joseph Seed was sitting on a stool in a dark room, with only a single dim light shining on him. Next to him was a stand holding a portrait of the late John Seed.

This was a eulogy.

"A seal has been opened." The Father spoke softly, his voice filled with grief. He didn't look at the camera; instead he looked at the floor, as if remembering something unpleasant. "My brother John . . . was loved by few . . . and feared by many. Misunderstood by all . . . except me. John was not born a monster. He was just a child when our family was torn apart. He was loving, kind, and full of joy."

Joey spat on the floor in memory of the bastard. She got scolded by Mary who didn't want to clean her patron's spit off the floor.

"He was easily preyed upon. John was not perfect. And sometimes he was not even good. But he was my brother . . ." Joseph finally looked up at the camera and America, hell, everyone, felt like he was speaking directly to them, "and those responsible for his death will be punished. I promise you that."

*BANG*

Everyone jumped from the gunshot destroying the TV and looked at America, holding a smoking Judgement.

"Jesus!" James jumped.

"Holy shit!" Joey exclaimed.

Both Mary and Jerome grabbed the rookie and wrenched the gun out of her tight hands. The Deputy didn't care or even fight, she just kept glaring at the destroyed TV, where The Father's face was, wishing it was the real thing.

"Your brother was a god damn psychopath!" She screamed, standing up.

"America, calm down!" Jerome held her.

"He killed so many people! Tortured people! Stole from them! Ruined their lives! I'm glad he's fucking dead!" She ranted and struggled against her friends.

"Deputy, get ahold of yourself!" James yelled, trying to get the rookie to relax.

"That bastard, Joseph Seed . . . like he's everywhere . . . watching . . . corrupting . . . every . . . thing . . ."

Just when they thought they would have to restrain her more, the Deputy finally fell in their arms, passed out from exhaustion and being drunk. Just for safe measure, the deputies confiscated her arms.

"The fuck was that about?" James asked.

"Poor girl." Jerome knelt down to her. "She's been through a lot."

"Get her up to her bed." Mary May ordered. "I'll clean this up." The deputies nodded and took the unconscious America up the stairs.

Mary grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the glass. "Is that something we have to be worried about, Pastor?" She asked, not looking up from the debris on the ground.

The Pastor looked to her then up to the second floor. "America has been at the forefront of this whole war. She has borne witness to things that have shattered strong men and she will continue to witness more until this war is over."

"And we're weighing her down; she's carrying us all on her shoulders to make sure we get to that end."

"We just have to watch her Mary, remind her that there are others to carry that burden. 'Then I will come down and speak with you there, and I will take of the Spirit who is upon you, and will put him upon them; and they shall bear the burden of the people with you, so that you will not bear it all alone.' Number 11:17."

Mary wished she could rely on the words of the Good Book like Jerome could, but after everything that's happened to her family, she just didn't have that much faith anymore. Just another thing the cult took from her.

America was proving that the cult wasn't as strong though. She was the only one proving that and that meant they'd be relying on her to defy the cult in her own way. To Mary, that felt like throwing the Deputy to the wolves . . . but what else could they do?

They needed her, even if that meant, breaking her down by bashing her against the peggies.

'America would consider that "Doing her duty."'

. . .

Mary stopped sweeping after thinking that. "I need a drink."

That was her bible quote.

---

This is one of the longest chapters I have ever made!

Jacob Seed was probably the only villain I had any respect for in the game. Which is ironic, considering how much I despise people that torture and mind-fuck people. But I guess it's because he barely makes anything against you personal. He's always talking to you calmly, rarely raising an octave in his voice. However, considering how much I hear about him being protective of his brothers, I can't help but wonder if he would become emotional at hearing about his little brother's death. I feel like that would make him actually possess some kind of vendetta against the Deputy. The game just, you know, couldn't do that. So, here I tried seeing how that would look and you know, I like this side of Jacob and honestly think it fits his character.

I'm thinking about changing the name of my story. For the longest time I called this story "America Jones" because I couldn't think of a better name. After some thought, how would any of you think of me changing this story's name to "Hope County Holy War"? If I don't get any responses to this, then I'm just going to change it to that.

A lot happened in this chapter and I look forward to anything you guys have to say about it.

PS Far Cry 6 is coming out next year! I'm so excited!