America and her posse were in the Blue Eagle, driving to the Moon Flower Trailer Park. They were heading there first to pick up one Sharky Boshaw, a man that was apparently so proficient with fire that he could possibly rid many, if not all of, the Bliss Fields.

In the Blue Eagle, Grace was staring ahead and aside, keeping alert of any peggies that might ambush them on the road. James was in the back fiddling with his shotgun. And America was driving. Internally though she was in deep thought.

'Damnit! I feel like I'm not going fast enough, but I'm pushing it to seventy right now.' She thought. 'Any faster and I'll run us off the road. Keep it together, America. Boomer will be okay as long as you get that doctor!'

The image of Boomer bleeding out filled her with fear, anxiety and rage.

'Fuck! If Boomer dies, I will ring that Faith Seed's neck like a goddamn towel!' Her dark thought drifted to the Cougars next. 'Faith's got the Cougars fucking boxed in their own headquarters, with limited food, weapons, and morale to boot. It's just like Fall's End all over again!'

"Hey Rookie, you okay?" James called from the back. "You clench any tighter and you're gonna rip that steering wheel off."

America eased up on her grip. "Sorry, I'm just thinking a lot."

"About what?" Grace asked.

"About Boomer, about Faith Seed, about how all this just feels like Holland Valley all over again."

"What do you mean?"

"John Seed was already a tough, incestuous tick to remove, now I got to remove the fucking little sister, who's probably of the same caliber. Only this time they'll be ready for someone who's already killed one of them and dig in deeper."

"Hell of a metaphor." James said. "Listen Rookie, we are gonna save Boomer. He's a tough old pooch that's been in worse situations than this. We'll get that doctor and he'll be right as rain."

"And don't you think too hard on Faith Seed and her ilk." Grace added. "Yeah, it was hard work to get rid of John and it's going to be hard work to remove Faith, but it'll all be worth it in the end when all of Hope County is free of Eden's Gates."

America took a deep breath to simmer her anger. "You're right. Thanks Grace. Thanks James"

"We got your back, Jones. Count on it." James said.

"Yeah. You guys do have my back. Thanks."

The three had arrived at the Moon Flower Trailer Park. Getting out of their vehicle they were immediately hit with the smell of smoke and burnt meat. The smell reminded them of the unfortunate souls that would meet their end by John's pyros.

Walking into the park, it was immediately evident that the place had been abandoned. A lot of the trailers had been boarded up or emptied completely. It seemed like Sharky had setup various barricades with barbed wire around the place.

"You smell that?" Grace said, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

James looked around at the flaming cars and piles of black ashes. All still smoking. "Yeah, I hate that smell."

America saw a single man standing on the roof of a trailer, blasting away a flamethrower, rocking it like it was a guitar. He matched the description of who they were looking for and pointed to him. "I'm guessing that's who we're looking for."

"Yeah, that's him." James muttered.

They climbed up a ladder and moved on the makeshift walkways Sharky had apparently fashioned out of scrap. They got a good view of the whole place and the Deputy had to admit, Sharky did well on fortifying the place.

When they reached Sharky he was still blowing his flamethrower down on the ground where a large pile of burnt corpses and ash lay. He hadn't noticed them yet, too distracted rocking out to music playing on his headphones.

Once they got close enough, he saw them out of the corner of his eye and turned on them. The three ducked, but Sharky thankfully did not pull the trigger of his flamethrower.

Sharky breathed a sigh of relief when he saw they were not peggies. He pulled down his headphones and America could have sworn he was listening to YMCA by the Village People.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a guy like that, compadres. Especially when he's carrying a gun that can spew roasting liquid of death."

"We walked right through the front door." America said a bit annoyed. "You didn't see us, so we had to get your attention like this."

He scratched back of his head awkwardly. "A'ight, I guess that's on me too, I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a little lost in the disco fever, know what I mean? Let's start over. I am Charlemagne Victor Boshaw. Now if you require more brevity in your day-to-day life, you can just call me Sharky. Welcome to the Disco Inferno, man."

"I'm Deputy Jones, this is Deputy Heller, and Grace Armstrong." America introduced.

Sharky grew a bit nervous hearing that they were law enforcement. "Ah shit, now hold on po-po, this is my family's land and it was abandoned by the occupants when the cult attacked. It's my property. So, I turned it into my special place where I can just be me without the prying eyes of my P.O. or witnesses or law enforcement types such as yourself. Here is where I am free to unleash my fire and mayhem in a pants free, consequence free environment." America gave him a patronizing look. "I have pants on now yes, but who knows what the next half-hour—forty-five minutes hold."

Much to her surprise, America was not surprised that Sharky was like this. 'Hell, Zip is still the weirdest guy I've met in this county by far.' And she didn't even want to think about Larry.

"We're not here to arrest you, Sharky or hassle you in any way." The Deputy explained. "In fact, we need your help."

Sharky seemed shocked that the police would ever broach him like that. "You need my help? With what?"

"Fightin' the cult." Grace answered.

"More specifically burning down their Bliss fields and possibly their property. You're the only one in Hope County who could do it without lighting the whole county ablaze." James clarified.

Sharky actually looked interested as he posed thoughtfully. "Hmm, wouldn't be easy, but if you set up the fires just right we could annihilate a lot of those creepy-ass flowers without much trouble. And just to be clear, you cops are okay with me setting private property on fire?"

"Until the cult is defeated, yes."

His eyes brightened. "I have permission, to use any means necessary, on anyone and anything I want, to start fires big and small?"

Now America was feeling nervous. "Yes."

Sharky gave them a toothy smile. "I have only one condition."

"Condition?"

"Yes, condition. I just set up everything to start a party here and it'd be a waste if I didn't blow it up. Join me for a barbeque and I'll help you guys out no problem."

America pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Seriously? We don't have time for this Sharky."

"Don't worry, this'll only take a few minutes, tops. Party crashers would be a real drag if it went on too long."

America was about to argue, but James interjected. "Let's just do it, Rook. The sooner we finish, the sooner he'll come along."

"I hate getting side tracked, but I agree. Let's just do this thing for him and go." Grace said.

"Fine."

"Yes!"

"So, what is it exactly you're doing? Fighting the peggies?"

"Pretty much! Been charbroiling Angels specifically."

"Angels? How?"

"The power of music, my man. Got a sweet-ass sound system rigged for 110 decibels of the hottest music ever created. Every time I crank it up, those dipshit cult angels they just come runnin' and I can't tell if they love it or hate it, but I'm tellin' you, it sure is fun to melt their faces off."

The three looked down at all the piles of charred black ash still smoking. A look of sick horror came over them.

"You know those used to be people, right?" Grace said disgusted.

Sharky wasn't perturbed. "Don't worry, man, them angels, they're already brain dead. I'm just givin' them a glorious send off to disco heaven, man."

"I don't know, Sharky, even for the cult this feels . . . extreme." James said unsurely.

"It's all in good fun, man. I promise not to tell anyone. We don't even have to wear pants or nothin'. I supply the music and I use the flamethrower to make 'em dance. And you use your . . . I don't know, whatever it is you got."

While the Deputy was uncomfortable with this, it looked like Sharky had taken out quite a number of Angels. Angels that they would not have to deal with in the future now. She sighed defeatedly.

"Alright, Sharky, we'll join your shindig." The two behind her were unsure, but didn't argue America's decision.

"Excellent! Then let's burn this mother down!"

"Give us a second to get into position." America quickly said. She motioned for the two to go off and find whatever spot worked for them.

James settled in the middle of the trailer park, standing on top of a derelict bus, with his shotgun in hand and a crate of molotovs by his side. Grace took the highest point in the area, which was the trailer park sign by the entrance they came through. She got her sniper rifle ready and gave the go. America stayed close to Sharky and picked up an extra flamethrower lying around. She had never used one before, so she thought why not take the opportunity to try. Why waste the bullets? Once she was set, she signaled Sharky they were ready.

The man hit the switch and the generator sparked to life, turning on the speakers. And what came on, America couldn't help but groan.

"Burn Baby Burn? Are you serious?"

"Chyeah! Disco is the greatest music ever invented!" Sharky shouted.

She almost thought it was some stupid joke, but then a pain-filled, rage-inducing scream could be heard on the outskirts of the trailer park. And like a swarm of hairless bats out of hell, a horde of Angels came swarming in.

"Whoa, they are angry today! I'm starting to think they don't like disco!" Sharky joked into the mic.

From both entrances Angels charged through, with tools in hand. Each carried something different from a hammer, to a trowel, to shovels and rakes and more. There were so many of them America wasn't sure where they had all come from so suddenly.

'Does Faith just let these guys wander unsupervised?' If that were the case, the woman had unleashed a plague that only she controlled.

The mindless masses continued to scream ragefully as they attacked. Many surrounded James by the bus and he blew them away with his shotgun. A few clustered together allowing him to toss molotovs at them, setting them ablaze. When ones got too close, he switched to his pistol and shot them pointblank in the head.

Grace went unnoticed by the Angels, hidden above them as she took them out. Angels died faster from headshots and that's all the Olympic sharpshooter gave. Angels fell dead to silent bullets bursting through their skulls, all the while distracted by the louder targets they were facing.

Sharky stayed by his control station, where most of the Angels were converging. The redneck didn't seem to mind as he wooped and hollered to the sky in joy. His flamethrower spewed out in long distances, alighting the living-braindead, burning their clothes and flesh. The Angels kept screaming, but it seemed they were more in pain from the music then being lit on fire. They did not die immediately after being set aflame, but either the pain or the damage or something else eventually killed them. Regardless, though Sharky was surrounded, he hardly seemed nervous and his flamethrower just kept coming.

America herself had to switch between the flamethrower and her sidearm, Judgement. She had scorched quite a few Angels, but she was not as adept with the device as Sharky was, who was moving around with it like a professional. Every now and then a zombified cultist would get too close and she would need to take it down with a quick shot to the head.

Despite the smell of smoke and burning flesh wafting through the air; and the tiredness of swinging around a gas-filled flamethrower, while keeping a constant watch of all her surroundings, America thought something that surprised her.

'This is fun!'

The very thought passed through her mind in a second, but it made her pause mentally for a minute. Her body was reacting on instinct, killing Angels left and right. But in her mind, she was surprised to find herself enjoying the slaughtering of these poor souls.

'These are people! Why the hell would I . . . I'm not—this is not who I . . .'

America tossed the flamethrower away when she became fed up and disgusted by her mind. She swung her rifle around and started firing on the Angels as they trampled over their burned brethren like they were nothing. She aimed for their heads, granting a quicker death then the flamethrower would have brought.

'I'm not like that! I'm better than that! I'm a goddamn Deputy for Christ's sake! I uphold order and value life above all else!' She repeated those words over and over as she killed every Angel in her scope.

Eventually, Sharky's flamethrower would run out. The Angels were still coming in force and the man would speak into the mic again.

"Alright, things are starting to get a little heated, I think that's enough for right now." Sharky pulled the switch to turn the music off. But Disco Inferno still blared over the speakers. Nervously, Sharky flipped the switch several more times to get the music to stop, but all that did was make the system spark.

"Oh shit! The systems busted! Not good guys! We need to reset it manually! There's four switches total we gotta get. Grace! One's by you, Heller get the one by that house over there, Deputy, there's a switch behind that gate. I'll get the one up this pole!"

He then pulled another switch, which started closing the gates in the entrances. But they were closing slowly, allowing more Angels to come through. "That'll buy us time. Hurry! Before we're drowning in Angels!"

Grace was the closest to her switch, so hers was immediately pulled as soon as she was ordered. She then went back to thinning out the ever-increasing horde of Angels. Sharky shimmied up the nearby pole like an agile monkey. He managed to pull his switch quickly.

The ones having difficulty getting to their switch were the two deputies. Their switches were in the middle of a bunch of shambling Angels. They couldn't just charge in or else they'd be swarmed and torn apart by the horde. The had to maneuver quickly and take out a few before they could reach their targets.

And soon it would be much harder. One of the gates managed to close in time, but the amount of Angels showing up threatened to tear down the flimsy blockade. The other, however, didn't close in time as a strong hand grabbed the edge of the gate and forced it open, causing it to break and malfunction.

More Angels flooded in, with a large, weirdly dressed Angel leading the herd.

"What is that?" James said worriedly.

This Angel was taller than the other. Instead of ratty clothes, it wore a dirty white robe. Its head was covered by what looked like a medieval barrel helmet, connected to a chest plate that covered the front and back of its torso. Behind it, dragged against the ground was a large metal bat.

"Archangel!"

"What the fuck is that?!" America shouted.

"They're the alpha Angels!" Sharky explained. "Bigger, tougher and much meaner."

Grace aimed her rifle at the large Angel and fired. The bullet dented to the helmet, but did nothing, but cause the giant to stumble before continuing. "This could be a problem." She muttered. She even aimed at the heart, but the crude breastplate was only dented.

Even the buckshot from James' shotgun only left dents, nothing damaging. The Archangel didn't even seem disoriented. The monstrous zombie swung his massive bat, clobbering several Angels, attempting to strike James. The Deputy barely got away before his head was caved in.

America reached her lever and pulled it. Just in time as the zombies from the entrance pushed down the gate and were coming in full force, with a second Archangel, toting a large war-scythe, stumbling behind them.

James blasted a few more Angels as he made a run for the last switch. He pulled it finally shutting down the speakers and the music. He turned around to shoot the Archangel that had reached him, but he quickly learned he had exhausted his ammo.

The Archangel swatted the shotgun out of James' hands, forcing the Deputy to switch to his sidearm. But the Archangel was surprisingly faster with its weapon and batted the senior deputy aside. James yelled out in pain as his shoulder had been dislocated from the hit.

Three angels tried attacking him, but James quickly worked through the pain and shot them each in the head. The Archangel lumbered over; bat raised overhead. James barely rolled away when the bat impacted where he just was.

"Grace, thin out the herd!" America commanded as she maneuvered around the Angels.

Grace headshot two Angels that were getting dangerously close to her friends. "I'm trying—argh!" A stone hit her in the head. The Angels had finally spotted her and began hurling rocks, forcing the sniper to take cover. Some were starting to climb the ladder to her position. She shot them in the head with her handgun when they peaked at the top. With so many stones flying at her, they were her easiest kills at the moment.

America ducked underneath the swinging scythe. The Archangel took out their own, severing three Angel heads in one arc. It was an impressive feat of strength and one the Deputy didn't want to be on the other side of.

The Archangel grunted as it hefted its massive scythe and tried splitting America in half. She only had two more rounds left in Judgement, and her rifle had run out. Like the others she had loaded numerous rounds into the large zombie, but the crude armor absorbed most of the damage. She thought about running to the truck to get her LMG, but despite the number of Angels reduced, there were still many between her and the truck.

She decided to try a risky move and took out a stick of dynamite. She lit the wick and tossed it between her and the Archangel. She fired the remaining bullets in Judgement, killing two Angels, to make room for an escape. She took cover behind a trash can as the dynamite blew.

The explosion sent Angels flying. Blood and body parts scattered in a ten-meter radius. America took that moment to put new bullets in Judgment and a new mag in her rifle. Standing up, the Deputy was shocked to see some of the Angels rise, regardless of the fact some of them were missing arms or legs. They didn't even seem disoriented from the boom!

The Archangel, despite being the closest to the blast radius seemed in better condition. His white robe was stained red with blood from the shrapnel and continued to soak further, but for the most part, moved as if he was only slightly hurt.

America readied her rifle, prepared to continue to fight, but then Sharky called out, "Deputy, take cover!"

Without thinking, America ducked and another explosion hit. She peered over and saw all the Angels covered in fire. They were still stumbling toward her, but slowly, one by one, the dropped from being burnt alive.

Only the Archangel held out the longest, taking several swings at America with a now flaming sickle. America felt the flames lick her face as she nearly avoided the weapon. Suddenly, a shotgun blast pushed the Archangel back and made the flames erupt more.

Sharky walked up to the Deputy's side, a flame-painted shotgun in hand. "Eat Dragon's Breath, bitch!" His shotgun fired again, increasing the fire on the Archangel. Sharky moved slightly to blast a crowd of Angels, igniting them on fire too. Many of them dropped dead from the incendiary rounds, the ones that got too close America put an end to with Judgement.

The Archangel hadn't quit yet and moved to hit Sharky. His shotgun, clicked. "Uh-oh, jammed." He groaned.

Luckily, the Archangel hit Sharky with the broad side of the scythe, sending Sharky flying into the broadside of a trailer.

"Sharky!" America called.

Groaning, Sharky gave her smile and thumbs up. "I'm okay! Idiot unjammed my gun too!" He informed cheerily.

Looking up, America saw the Archangel raising its scythe to strike. The Deputy quickly leveled her rifle and emptied the magazine into abomination. With its armor melting from the incendiary rounds all of America's bullets finally penetrated, making the Archangel back off and fall to its knees. Sharky quickly rushed up and shot it in the metal head at point blank range. It finally fell dead.

The only remaining Angels left were surrounding a wounded James, who was using his empty handgun as a melee weapon. As hard as he was bashing in Angel skulls, it was completely ineffective, especially against the Archangel.

"James!" Sharky called, as he unholstered and loaded an M-79 grenade launcher. It was painted with the face of a snarling shark. "Get clear!"

James quickly got away from the Angels and dove behind a defunct truck. Sharky fired and a 40mm incendiary grenade exploded between the group of Angels, sending them flying as well as burning. The fire spread in a wide radius, catching a set of combustible barrels too. The coming explosion would finish the rest of the burning angels, including the Archangel, which was torn to pieces from the explosion.

The four looked around to see if any Angels remained. When they heard no lumbering or groaning or screaming, they knew they were in the clear.

Sharky let out a big, "WoooHoo! Man, talk about a close one, am I right?"

"Yeah." America sighed, taking a moment to come down from her battle-high.

Grace got down from her perch and helped James to his feet. She then helped him, by resetting his arm back in place, eliciting a scream of pain.

"How's your head?" He asked the soldier.

Grace felt her temple, feeling the gash and fresh blood dripping from it. "I'll be fine, just a slight cut."

"You okay, man?" Sharky asked the deputy.

James tested out his arm. It was fine, but in a lot of pain. "I'll patch it up in the car. Nothing like bandages and ice can't fix, right Grace?" He tried joking.

"Just take it easy, Cowboy." Grace said. "Maybe take a break from that shotgun for a while.

"Yeah." He rubbed his shoulder. "Yeah."

"I have to admit, Sharky," America breathed, looking at all the work they just did, "you know how to bring the firepower."

Sharky suddenly did a little victory dance. "That was fun! Man, I wish all cops were cool like you. What can I say, amigo? You and me, we got chemistry."

America chuckled. "Hate to break it to ya, amigo, but I ain't into guys."

Sharky suddenly stopped his little jig. "Oh, uh, not what I meant. I meant we're like . . . we're like a freakin' team! Like you bring the match and I bring the spark!"

"You definitely showed you can handle yourself." It was safe to say, the guy knew his way around a firearm. "The fact you've done this multiple times speaks volumes."

"Hell yeah, man! Listen, I know ya said ya only need me to burn Bliss fields, but why don't I ride along all y'all too?"

"You wanna fight alongside me and my team?"

"Shit yeah!"

America pondered that offer for a moment before responding. "Let me talk it over with my teammates and then we'll see."

"Sure thing, man. In the meantime, I'll go load up my stuff since I'll be helping out the Cougars."

Sharky walked off, leaving the three to discuss.

"So, what do you two think?" She asked Grace and James.

"As fucked up as it is that Sharky's found enjoyment in burning bodies, he's really a nice guy. Plus, you saw how he handled himself against those Angels. And he's done this multiple times? That's impressive." James said.

"I don't know, he seems to be too much of a wild card." Grace argued.

"Not like his cousin." James threw out there.

"True." America looked between them wondering who they were talking about, but that didn't matter at the moment. "Still, I don't mind him getting rid of the fields, but to have him in combat roles? We do a lot of stealth ops and he doesn't strike me as the quiet type."

"That's true too." James added. "Sharky's anything but subtle." The deputy scrunched his face in thought. "Still, I think he could be a real help to us. I'm for it."

"I'm against. Looks like it's your decision, Leader." Grace said.

America felt her two teammates had solid arguments. Sharky seemed to have a number of pros and cons. Would a pyro like him be useful to their team dynamic or more of a hindrance?

'He did singlehandedly wipe out groups of Angels and those Archangels. James and I are good, but we're not crowd controllers. And Grace is only so good when she's hidden and dealing with one enemy at a time. Plus he knows how to operate a flamethrower, shotgun and grenade launcher.'

"I say we take him on." America voted. "If it doesn't work out with him, we can always leave him at the prison for the Sheriff and Vergil to handle."

Both of her partners accepted her decision and the three walked over to Sharky who had finished packing a dufflebag with his stuff.

"So?" Sharky asked.

"You can stick with us for right now." America said. "We'll see how well you work with us out there. If you're a problem to the group dynamic we'll have to let you go."

"Sweet! I swear you won't regret it, Dep." He slung the dufflebag over his shoulder. "So, we going now?"

"What about the trailer park?" America asked. Looking around the place was a complete disarrayed mess. Not only were fires spreading everywhere, but there were Angel bodies everywhere too.

"It's a lost cause now. The stupid Angels ruined the sound and security system. It'd take me days to fix everything up to start a new party. But if I hang with you guys the parties'll come to me."

"Shouldn't we at least put the fires out?" Grace asked.

Sharky then walked over to a nearby faucet. He gave it a swift kick and a complex sprinkler system went off, dousing all the fires in the park. The three looked at him with shock.

"What? I'm not the best arsonist in Hope County for nothin'." Sharky said proudly.

If you look at this mission from a normal person view-point, it's kinda messed up how Sharky takes a liking to burning Angels alive. I doubt the Angels feel pain, or at least, a lot of pain, but still, these are people that became literal zombies either willingly or unwillingly. That last one makes killing Angels somewhat dark, difficult and unnerving. Still though, can't deny that Sharky is probably singlehandedly responsible for taking out the most Angels. They ARE a problem and they have to be dealt with. One less Angel to fuck up someone's day. Anyone got any thoughts about this?