Joseph walked among what used to be his people's dedication to their cause. He watched all around him as his loyal flock picked through the rubble in search of their fallen. Any survivors, even just one, would be considered a blessing from the Lord, but so far, no such blessing had been found.

His hand brushed against the large slabs of stone that used to represent his body. The statue was a beacon of hope to those that sought a better life. A sign to tell the world that this land was safe and blessed.

And that misguided lamb tore it down.

He tried not letting his sins consume him like the rest of his flock, but Deputy Jones was truly pushing his limits. Disappointment was all he wanted to give, but he couldn't help, but let a trickle of wrath seep out and into his soul.

He needed to be better for his people, but these naysayers were proving quite challenging.

"Father."

One of the children garnered his attention and he turned away from the rubble to face him. "Yes, my child?"

The lamb seemed worried to speak up, like a child afraid to admit wrongdoing to their parents. This saddened Joseph, as he felt his flock should be comfortable telling him anything. He placed a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder.

"It is okay, my child. Speak. What is on your mind?"

The man's mouth thinned and Joseph heard a loud gulp come from him. "Why did this happen?"

. . .

"So many have died. Here. On this sacred ground. Why would God allow this to happen?"

Joseph shook his head. "God didn't allow anything, my child. This is not God's work or my work, this is simply the misguided act of those that refuse to see the truth."

"An act committed by the Snake." He seethed.

Joseph nodded, but internally he didn't like the nickname they gave to the Deputy. The woman, for as many sins as she committed against his Family, was not the devil. She believed she was doing good wrongfully, that didn't make her the personification of all evil. It just meant she was going down the wrong path for the wrong reasons.

Which was why he needed to guide her down the right one. At least, that's what God was telling him to do.

"Yes, the Deputy has indeed done our family harm." He turned to the destroyed monument. "The sins she's committed may take years or the rest of her life to atone for, maybe even beyond to the next life. But she, like the rest of us, deserve a chance to atone. To do right by the good people of this world."

"But what she's done . . . she doesn't deserve it! She even killed John!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he immediately regretted it and fearfully looked down at his feet. The others listening around them gave out muffled gasps and widened eyes. The audacity to throw the Herald's death in the Father's face!

But Joseph, felt no anger. He has accepted John's passing and simply understood where the man was coming from.

He gently placed fingers on the man's chin and made him look up. "Do not let wrath consume you, child. Weep, mourn, even scream if you must, but do not let the Deputy's infection get you too."

He turned away from the man and began climbing the stones and addressed all before him from on high.

"The Collapse is upon us, my children! I can feel it in my bones! Every day it inches closer and closer. Though the unbelievers fear us and our truth, we must show them that our way is truly the righteous! We have lost much to this so called "Resistance," but I ask you to have faith in me, as I have faith in all of you to continue this righteous crusade. And I ask, that you have faith in those that do not stand with us, for they are but lost sheep and need only a gentle hand to guide them towards true peace and paradise!"

He scanned them all, seeing murmurs of uncertainty, but he did not waver. "I know, they have taken from us, but it is still our duty to help them, even if they don't want it or view it as help. Because in the end, we are still saving them from themselves. You need not just faith in our cause or in each other, but in those that are not us."

He pulled out a small dagger. "Faith is like a fine weapon, it must be tempered, it must be tested, and it must be maintained if it is to work properly. What is Faith if it is not tested or used." He motioned to all around them. "This is our test of Faith! Show the heretics that this loss does not phase you and that you still believe in them. Believe in their change of heart and they will believe in your Faith in them! Only then will they see the paradise awaiting them at Eden's Gate."

His flock remained quiet around him and then he asked, "Do you have Faith in me?"

They cheered and chanted his name. No longer were they consumed with sorrow and doubts. He kept the Faith alive in them and in turn they'd spread that Faith to the others. Lately he's had to do this a lot, reinstate Faith into the hearts of his followers.

The Deputy was proving quite troublesome; implanting fear and intimidation. It was what she was meant to do and that purpose made them stronger. Why?

Because this was his purpose: to instill Faith into them. He wasn't lying, Faith only mattered when it was constantly broken down, tested, and repeated. Otherwise, it was just emptiness. An empty word. This is what he had to do.

"Faith . . . must be strengthened."

It was mid-day now, the followers of Eden's Gate were toiling away in the Bliss fields, cultivating as many flowers as they could for Faith's Gate. Well, the Angels were toiling, the actual followers were supervising from a safe distance. It was better this way, the Angels were already one with the Bliss, their minds freer than anyone could dream and closer to Joseph's Faith than even the VIPs. They truly were the lucky ones, to serve Joseph's Faith so diligently and loyally and . . . dare they say, blissfully.

With all the chaos the nonbelievers were spreading, quiet days like this were truly a blessing from God. And The Father promised days like this in the new world for all eternity. How lucky they were, how blessed the world was to have The Father guide them in these troubled times.

The shattering of glass broke them all out of their musings, they looked around for where the noise was. The Angels still worked, unless something interacted with them directly, they wouldn't stop.

Then they saw it, the fires, rising in all directions.

"Put out the fires!" The one in the watch tower shouted. He was silenced permanently when an arrow was launched into his eye.

"The heathens are attacking!"

"But we got to put the fires out."

"The Angels! What about the Angels!"

They scrambled like headless chickens trying to grasp a thread of sanity to figure out what to do. Some went for the water first, trying to put out the flames. It wouldn't be enough and would die from smoke inhalation.

The angels had already perished in the fire, but some fools rushed in to save them. They burned alive, screaming for the Father to save them.

The rest tried to escape, but the heathens killed them on sight and trapped them in the burning fields. It was the end for them and they all perished, burning amongst the fruits of their labor.

America watched from atop of Lorna's Truckstop. Through her binoculars she could see the Resistance systematically wipe out three Bliss Fields in one go.

'Got to hand to Sharky, he planned this out well.'

The first field they lit on fire with Molotov cocktails. Sharky suggested striking in three spots on opposite ends. They made sure to erect small dirt walls so the fires didn't escape and when the fires reached each other, they'd burn each other out.

The second field was set alight via fire arrows, raining down from the sky killing peggies and destroying the fields.

The last field was burned down with flamethrowers. This field was far from any important structures of flammable nature, so Sharky said they could go all out, but he still cautioned them to be careful with the flamethrowers.

"How's it looking up there, Sharky?" She called through her radio.

Up above, Carmina flew overhead. Sharky sat in Nick's passenger side, using his binoculars to watch over the masterful work he planned.

"It's a thing of beauty, Dep. Gotta say, this is probably some of my best work yet."

"Ya can pat yourself later, Sharky, how about the Bliss Mist? What's that look like?"

"Unfortunately . . . about the same. We just removed three fields from a small area, but the mist doesn't seem to be going away."

"Seriously?"

"He's tellin' the truth, partner." Nick cut in. "The mist is still risin' and spreadin' and I got no idea where it's comin' from."

"Well, at least the fields are gone. We'll worry about getin' rid of the mist some other way. In the meantime, keep guiding them Sharky, last thing we want is a bunch of wild fires, destroying everything we're trying to save."

"Ten-Four, good buddy!"

America climbed down from the station's roof. They had taken over Lorna's no more than an hour ago, securing one of the biggest sources of gasoline in the county. This would severely hinder the cult's movements and give the Resistance an edge. Now the Cougars had the fuel to move around more. No more hiking to every location. They of course still needed to be mindful of how much fuel they used. Lorna's may have a lot of gas, but it wasn't infinite.

That's why America bagged a box of ammo and headed north. Just before taking over the outpost, the peggies loaded an entire tanker full of gas. They headed north and stopped at a place called Aubrey's Diner, according to some scouts. So, she was going to get it back.

It wasn't too much of a trek and as long as she stayed far from the road, the peggies wouldn't bother her either. She wouldn't even need backup if she played her cards right.

Arriving at the diner, the peggies had the tanker parked, but guarded. She counted five peggies.

She walked up behind the closest one and grabbed her like a meat shield. Raising Judgment, she fired five rounds into five heads. The peggie in her arms whimpered seeing her sheep family drop like flies. She struggled ragefully, but America had the stronger grip. She died with a curse on her lips as America snapped her neck.

'Is it just me or is this getting easier?'

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a loud banging noise coming from behind the diner. It wasn't a gunshot, more like someone hit something metal. After reloading Judgment, she slowly moved to the back. With her gun at the ready, she slowly crept ready to raise and fire should any cultist or wild animal think they can get the drop on her.

The noises were loud bangs coming from inside the dumpsters. Her mind raced to think of what it could be from raccoons, to Angels, or maybe even a poor soul hiding from the cult. Either way, she had her hammer cocked and was ready for whatever came out.

The dumpster continued to create a racket. Step by step, America got closer and easily lifted the lid up. She nearly fired when a man burst from the dumpster. It was only because of his lack of cult attire and the color white that she didn't shoot.

"Don't shoot! I-I-I'm unarmed!"

"Get the fuck outta there!" She ordered, gripping her heart like it was about to burst.

The guy clumsily got out of the dumpster, falling onto his back with a thud and groan. The guy was dressed grungily, wearing a cap, covered by a hoodie. His pants were torn and his shoes looked like they belonged in the dumpster he crawled out of. On his pasty, acne-ridden face was a single tear tattoo near his right eye.

He stood up shakily and America immediately knew it was not just from fear. America had seen enough addicts to recognize a drug user.

"What the hell were you doing in there? Who are you?"

"E-e-easy m-man. I come in peace and all that." He talked like he was on depression medicine, low and sad. "My name's Tweak . . . well, actually it's Aaron, but we don't need to be talking about official forms of ID, do we?"

America lowered her sidearm. She uncocked it, but didn't holster. Just because Tweak wasn't a threat didn't mean threats wouldn't be lurking.

"I-I was just looking for some plants, man, until I saw the cult rolling by. Then I jumped into this dumpster. It's a lot harder to get out from the other side. Y-you, uh, don't look cultish."

"What gave it away? The fact I'm not wearing all white, or I'm not shouting about how much I love the Father, or that I don't smell like I haven't showered in weeks?"

"You just have this . . . very distinct anti-cult vibe, which I dig."

"Most people do, at least the ones that aren't allied with Eden's Gate."

"Y'know, I've been working on something for p-p-people like you. People who're . . . who're taking on the cult. Top secret, very hush-hush."

An eyebrow was raised. "What is it?"

"I consider myself something of a professional, amateur chemist and I've got . . . recipes that will make you harder, better, faster, stronger."

She held up her hand. "Let me stop you right there." Her face leveled a glare that made the man tremble more. She then showed her badge. "You see this. There may be a war going on, but I'm still an officer of the law. I don't do drugs and I stop those that make and peddle them."

She hid the fact that she used to be an addict. He didn't need to know something so personal.

"Don't-Don't-Don't- Don't think of them as d-drugs! Think of them as performance enhancers. You like the sound of that? That sounds better, yeah?"

"No, it doesn't. It sounds like steroids, which fuck up both your mind and body. You know, like drugs!"

"L-l-listen! I swear to you, these aren't, like, regular dru—I mean—performance enhancers. I made them from Bliss."

"And that's supposed to be better?!"

"I swear! What I g-got cookin' is nonaddictive. Hell, the drugs the cult take are nonaddictive, they take them willingly! I guarantee it. I can't go into details, but I've made something that can provide you the benefits of Bliss without subjecting yourself to the cult's will."

"Benefits?"

"The VIPS, the Angels, Chosen, Judges, and Anointed. They're all faster, stronger and m-more resilient. They can take many hits and keep going. They even heal quicker than those of the cult that don't use Bliss. And the regular followers use it to heal their fallen. Don't you think that's something you can use against them?"

America didn't even hesitate. "No. I'll win this war without it."

Tweak looked down frustrated and . . . sad? "Fine." He then ran off. "If you change your mind, find Prosperity southeast from here!" And he ran off into the woods out of sight.

Honestly, had the situation been normal she would have arrested the guy, but she had bigger fish to fry than some two-bit drug pusher. As long as he wasn't with the cult or peddling to her people he didn't matter.

She head back to the tanker and as soon as she turned the corner she found four people standing around the vehicle. They weren't cultists, evidenced by the scary jewelry, leather and denim clothes they wore. She identified two men and two women, armed.

Once again, she raised Judgment and approached them.

"Hey, keep away from there!" She commanded. The thugs turned around and raised their own weapons. Despite not being cult, America noticed a symbol on all their clothes: a smeared white skull with red trim.

"She's not a batshit cultist."

"Nah man, she's a yokel looks like."

"Whoever the hell you are, this here's our gas."

"Not happening." America said determined. "I'm taking this back to the Cougars."

"Please. It's four of us against only one of you."

America surprised even herself when she said, "I like those odds."

Then she heard a click behind her and she knew she'd been made. "How 'bout five against one?" Said a thick, deep voice. America looked to her side to see a large, burly black man holding a rifle to her head.

He was dressed like the others, leather jacket and jeans over a white shirt with an insult on it. He wore thick rings that held the images of skulls and demons on them, piercings on his nose and ears, and a chain looped around his pants. He had a long black beard not dissimilar to the peggies, but he seemed to take better care of it.

"Not so cocky now are ya?" The big man taunted.

"I won't let you take that fuel."

"We need this fuel too. I got no quarrel with you locals, but our bikes are running low and we can only hit so many tankers on the road."

America finally pieced together who they were.

"You're the Heaven's Outlaws."

"Damn straight. Now drop your gun."

America hesitated and tried seeing if there was a way out of this.

"Last warning. I'll give you five seconds to do as I say . . . 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . ."

There was another click, but this time from behind the man. "Five." America recognized that filtered voice.

Behind the big man was Black Hood, holding their rifle at the biker's head.

"An eye for an eye, Gray Kold. Lower the gun down."

Now everyone was on edge, now that the leader of the Outlaws was being held hostage.

"You pop me and my men will pop your masked ass and your girlfriend here." Gray threatened.

"No one needs to pop anyone, Kold. I don't think you realize who you got there."

"What? She's just one of those idiots from the prison running around playing freedom fighter."

"That's where you're wrong, Kold. That there is The Deputy, America Jones."

The gang all lowered their guns slightly and looked amongst each other in surprise. Even Gray slightly relaxed as his eyes filled with realization.

"THE America Jones, the one that killed John Seed and blew up Joseph's precious dick monument yesterday?"

"The very one."

The biker gang leader contemplated for a moment before finally lowering his gun. He back off and smiled pleasantly like he wasn't just holding an officer of the law at gunpoint.

"Apologies, Deputy. I didn't realize I was in the presence of a legend."

Black Hood backed off too and when America noticed the others seemed less threatening, she lowered her gun as well.

"Legend? I wouldn't go that far."

"You kiddin'? Everyone in the Valley has heard what you did. Killing the youngest brother of the Father and blowing up one of the cult's prized bunkers? That's the biggest talk around the fires at night."

Gray went to stand near his people and Black Hood walked behind her to her left.

"Well then, since we're all being so friendly, will you let me take that tanker back? We just liberated Lorna's Truckstop, if you need fuel, we're more than happy to share."

"We told you—"

Gray raised his hand, shutting up one of his companions. "That's mighty kind of you and we're more than happy to let you off with the tanker, but in exchange . . ."

"Exchange? I found the damn thing!"

"So did we."

"I killed the cultists guarding it!" She waved to the bodies lying on the ground.

"Who hasn't murdered the cult for their things? Hell, the things the cult own is stuff they murdered for. All of Hope County is suffering from the bloody five-finger-discount."

America felt ready to raise fists at these thugs. Gray must have seen her rage build because he raised his hands in surrender.

"Whoa, easy now. All I want is your help with a cult matter. That's it. You help me and you can keep the tanker. Hell, forget the tanker, you'll get the help of the whole Heaven's Outlaws."

Everyone seemed shocked by that offer, including Gray's own people.

"What do you mean? What do you want?" She asked.

Gray started pacing around. "Ever since me and my boys got trapped here in this backwater hellhole, we've been sleeping out in the fucking woods with the raccoons and coyotes."

"Not the worst thing to encounter out here."

"Don't remind me. Anyway, we need a roof over our heads. I'm tired of sleeping in the dirt where anything from the cult to wildlife could kill us."

"Why don't you just go to the Prison where the Cougars are?"

The bikers laughed at her suggestion. "Because they don't like us and we don't like them. Your so-called Resistance was getting their teeth kicked in by the peggies before you showed up. We believed it was only a matter of time before the cult overran them, so we kept to ourselves not wanting to end up like those idiots. Plus, that bald pencil pusher and the sheriff don't like us even more."

"Then why offer to join us?"

"Technically, we're joining you. You seem to be the only one, for whatever reason, competent enough to actually hurt the cult. My gut tells me that our odds of survival will be better if we fight alongside you instead. And that's all I'm looking to do, survive this fucking fiasco."

America gave it some thought. These guys were criminals, but so was Sharky. Maybe not to the same extent, but similar. Not to mention they held her at gunpoint just for a tanker of gas, though they could argue she did the same thing. They were also not too big of fans of the Resistance, more specifically the Cougars. That could be volatile, dangerous, but they were willing to work with her and by extension the Cougars, if it meant beating the cult and seeing tomorrow.

'Enemy of my enemy is my friend. Cliché, but not wrong.'

"Where exactly do you want me to help you at?"

Gray gave a toothy grin, flashing a gold tooth. "You ever heard of the King's Hot Springs Hotel?"

America recalled a location on the Henbne River map circled in red. Located Northeast of the prison, the Hotel was turned into an outpost by the cult. No one really knew what the cult was using it for. Whitehorse assumed just as a barracks. From what she was told it was a nice resort spot for locals to come and unwind with the natural hot waters and therapeutic massages. Apparently, it was also haunted because she overheard someone saying that some weirdos from a TV studio were interested in filming the place for some paranormal show.

The Deputy nodded yes. "I have, why do you want that spot?"

"Besides the fact its got enough rooms to house my gang and provide some nice relaxing hot springs? It's a tactical spot." She gave him a look to clarify.

He pulled out a map of the region from his jacket and pointed to the prison. "The prison here is able to keep a lookout and respond fast to the northwest section of the map. They basically have a good position where they can immediately respond to any cult attack in the area. The Marina, run by that cougar, keeps watch of the north for Jacob's people, intercepting anyone that comes down from the mountains. They have access to the water and can intercept any forces from within and out."

He then pointed to where the Hotel was. "If my people can take over this location, I can give you eyes and reports for everything that's happening southeast. It'll be kind of slow, but eventually we can reclaim the whole region by dividing it up."

Gray curled up the map and pointed it at her. "So, what do you say, Deputy?"

America had to admit, he really thought this out. A far as she could see, there were more benefits to helping them than antagonizing them. Vergil and Whitehorse might not like it, but The Deputy honestly didn't care. The Heaven's Outlaws were not Eden's Gate and that's all that mattered.

"Alright, Kold, I'll ride with ya."

After delivering the Tanker back to Lorna's, America followed the Outlaws to the Hotel. On the way there, she had called Vergil, Whitehorse, and Tracey to tell them what she was doing. Needless to say, the two legal officials weren't pleased about it, Tracey on the other hand didn't care and seemed to agree with her once America explained Gray's tactful plan.

In the end, none of them could stop her and the plan was already in motion. The former mayor and sheriff reluctantly agreed to taking the Outlaws' help.

But Whitehorse left her a warning first. The cult got a lot of their supplies from outside Hope County and the Outlaws were well known for their smuggling operations. There was never any proof, but Whitehorse was certain that they had the biker gang to thank for arming and supplying the cult.

With that warning out of the way, America turned her head slightly to the only passenger in her truck. The Black Hood sat in the passenger's seat. They were just looking ahead, their rifle in hand and seemed as still as a statue. Honestly, it kind of reminded her of some of her mom's army buddies. Disciplined and stiff, like a soldier.

"What?"

Black Hood had noticed her staring.

"I could have handled that." She stated. Though she was vague, she was talking about when Gray had her dead to rights.

"I'm sure you could've, but I was there anyway."

"Why were you there?"

"I told you: I would be there when you need me the most."

That. . . sounded weird to her. "Are you stalking me?"

"Hardly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

. . .

. . .

"Okay, could you stop!" She shouted.

"What?"

"This whole . . . mysterious vigilante shit. The mask, the outfit, the weird Batman disappearing trick. I can't even tell if you're a man or a woman!"

"I thought people in this day and age didn't assume gender identity. How narrowminded of you." She could actually feel the smarmy smirk under that mask and it annoyed her.

"Don't give me that political correctness bullshit. I will shoot you."

. . .

"Do you really want to know about me?"

She turned her head to him somewhat surprised and quickly looked back at the road. Gray and his band were still in front of her leading to the hotel.

"Yes."

"All you need to know about me is that I have your back and I will never betray you. If you're so unsettled by me, then just think of me as a . . . guardian angel."

America turned her head back to the masked weirdo and gave them a discerning look. That was an odd choice of words, but before she could even push what Black Hood was talking about, they had stopped on the road.

They got out and Gray said they need to travel the rest of the way by foot, through the forest. They traveled perhaps half a mile until they finally arrived at the King's Hot Spring Hotel.

The place looked old, like a lot of locations in Hope County. It was a wooden building that was three stories high. True to the name there were hot springs around, still steaming and hot, surrounded by a wooden deck. On the deck were several massage tables and long chairs for people to relax on. The hotel set up showers nearby for people to wash up or cool down.

By the pools, America could see the peggies not relaxing and instead working to poison the hot waters with their liquid Bliss. She counted four working outside, but there would likely be more inside.

"Don't suppose you have a proper number of how many are inside that place?"

Gray shook his head no. "Sorry, but they switch it up every couple of hours. Last time we counted twenty, the time before that thirteen. Who knows what's waiting for us in there."

"That's why you wanted The Deputy's help." Black Hood stated. "You didn't want to risk your people without assurance you could win."

Gray scowled at the masked vigilante. "The Outlaws have lost enough to these fuckers! I'm not gonna let them take anymore."

"Ya don't have to get all huffy, Kold." America unsheathed her baseball bat. "I wouldn't have come all this way if I didn't plan to help you." She turned to Black Hood.

"Hood, follow my lead." She then looked to Kold and his gang. "When we clear the backyard, follow us."

Before Kold could ask what she was planning to do, the woman jumped. The bikers thought she was mad or suicidal, but when they saw her land on a peggie and smash his head open like a watermelon, they knew what they had brought.

Black Mask was already down there with her too, using a weird dagger to slit open necks like aluminum cans. The Heaven's Outlaws were no strangers to violence, but the way the Deputy and her weird masked friend handled the peggies outside was almost like watching an action movie.

Once the outside was quietly cleared, the Deputy motioned for the Outlaws to come down.

They gathered by the door where America silently commanded them to go around and wait for her signal. When she felt she gave them enough time, a nod was shared with Black Hood and the two kicked open the door.

Peggies didn't even have enough time to register the machinegun and rifle pointed at them before they were mowed down. The Outlaws burst through the other remaining doors, wiping out the peggies in the various parts of the hotel.

After that it was all a shower of carnage as the peggies were systemically wiped out. The ones upstairs tried taking advantage of their high ground, but America kept them suppressed while Black Hood and Kold made it up the stairs.

The second floor was cleared in almost the same time, but the peggies tried using their rooms to take cover and ambush. Eventually though they'd have to pop out to retaliate only to be rewarded for their bravery by a shot in the head by Black Hood.

Kold started up for the third floor and withdrew when peggies fired down on him. America arrived behind him.

"How many?"

"Don't know. Sounds like two, could be more." He answered.

America heard the sound of a grenade pin and looked over to see a grenade being thrown down. She caught it and threw it back with ease. Whether the peggies tried throwing it back or were shocked by the action didn't matter as they were blown to hell by shrapnel.

"Probably less, now." She quipped as she moved forward with Kold behind her. Found two dead at the top, with a third suffering. One boot to the skull ended his suffering.

Two peggies stepped out from the third-floor hallway and about fired on the Deputy. But Kold spotted them first and got them both in the chest.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

The two kept moving and would remove four more peggies from the top floor. Once they thoroughly searched for every cultist, they saw from outside a bunch of peggie trucks rolling in.

Kold took out three sticks of dynamite taped together. "Got a light?"

America obliged with her zippo and watched the results after it was flung out the window. The explosion destroyed the trucks and several of the peggies. Whoever survived was killed by the rest of the Outlaws who came out to check the commotion.

The King's Hot Springs Hotel was liberated.

Gray laughed heartily as he, two of his men, America, and Black Hood took a seat at a table and poured some whisky found over the counter. He poured them each a glass, America took hers, so did the Outlaws, Black Hood didn't touch theirs.

"I've seen my fair share of gunho cops, Deputy, but never any like you." He swallowed his drink then grabbed Black Hood's. "You're fearless."

"I wouldn't call it fearlessness." She downed her drink next. "It's my duty." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Black Hood nodding approvingly.

Gray snorted. "You're duty huh? Suuure." He downed the second glass.

She glared at the man. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The biker gangleader motioned to all the chaos around him. "No cop could do all this without batting an eye. At least, not ones outside of action movies."

Her glared intensified. "It's the truth."

"No, it isn't." He fired back derisively. "Maybe that's what you tell yourself, maybe that's what you believe, but it's not why you do it."

"Yes. It. Is."

"A dutiful cop doesn't slaughter an entire building of people with an MG like they're the fucking Terminator. A dutiful cop doesn't sneak up behind unaware people and snap their necks like chickens or bash their skulls in with baseball bats. A dutiful cop doesn't help a criminal light a bundle of dynamite and blow up a cavalry of cultists. You don't fight these fuckers just because it's your job or even because you hate them."

He took another drink. "You do it because it's a mixture of those and because you fuckin' enjoy it."

America felt her hand tighten and for a solid minute she thought she'd break the table in her palm. "I do not—"

"It's a lawless land out there, Deputy. The Wild West. And you get to play lawbringer, the greatest power fantasy of any authority. Can't say I don't get it. Many cops would kill to be where you are."

America stood ramrod straight, she wasn't sure what she was about to do, but she imagined a fist, his face, and an arc of blood flying across the room from his nose. But a firm hand grabbed her shoulder and she looked behind her into the reflective eye-goggles of Black Hood's mask. She still couldn't see their eyes, but she could see herself and the face of wrath all over it. The deadly sin scarred across her chest suddenly ached and she sat down.

After taking a deep breath she said, "Since you have me so figured out, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why do you hate Eden's Gate?"

"Same reason as everyone else: revenge and hatred."

She quirked an eyebrow. She knew for a fact he was not a Hope County resident, but she knew he wouldn't just say that. One way or another the cult took something from someone. For a second it looked like the man struggled to say what happened.

When he saw she was looking for more clarification, he took one last drink of liquid courage and placed the glass upside down.

"Since we'll be working together, I suppose we can tell you. I want you to know that I'm telling you this in confidence, Deputy. I'm hoping no matter what I tell you, you won't act rashly."

America poured herself another drink before saying, "We'll see."

Gray didn't seem to like that, but continued regardless.

"I'm assumin' ya heard the rumors about Heaven's Outlaws? That we supplied the cult for the past couple years with supplies and weapons?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, they're true."

A pregnant pause was the only thing that remained after that. The two stared each other down. Kold waited for the Deputy to make some kind of move like before. One that would force the discharge of every weapon in the room.

America moved her hand but it was to drink from her glass.

"And may I ask why?"

"Money." He shrugged. "John is—was, a rich motherfucker. He had the cash and the connections to hire us to get them whatever they wanted. At the time my gang and I just thought them a bunch of nut jobs, but they didn't bother us."

"Until they did." America predicted. "What changed?"

"My gang. Over the years, little by little I noticed some of my own . . . praying and worshiping. I saw them carry those white books and talking about the Collapse of the world or something. Every time we came back to Hope County, at least one member would leave for Eden's Gate. As freaky as it was I didn't much care . . . until my sister got involved.

She recognized that look. It was the look she saw every time she went out among the folks of Hope County. The loss of loved ones by something horrifying. "What happened?"

This time he took a drink from the bottle and swallowed bitterly. "She joined them. What else? She bought everything they were selling. Practically fell in love with John and don't even get me started on Joseph."

He squeezed his eyes whether trying to stave off the alcohol or prevent tears she didn't know.

"I'm not a strict man. If someone wants to leave the gang they can. The fact they were joining an obvious cult didn't matter to me because we all make out choices in life. But this was my sister. We always looked out for each other after our mom got arrested."

He looked through the glass as if searching for something. "I tried to stop her. Prevent her from going. But fucking Eden's Gate attacked and took her along with several others that also believed. They came at us like a swarm of crazy wasps!"

"We killed them, but they got a few of us too. While we planned on how to save my sister and the others, that's when the cult kicked it into eleven and took over the whole damn county. Been fighting for our lives ever since."

"And your sister?"

There was a long deafening pause. Even the other gang members seemed deeply bothered.

"Found her."

"Do I want to know?"

Gray took one more drink. "I'm telling this simply because I can see you've seen terrible shit too. Found her a couple days ago, as an Angel."

"Shit."

"Yeah." He was about to take another swig from the bottle to burn the memory away, but then he looked at it with disgust before chucking it at the wall. "Now all I want to do is save the rest of my gang and get the fuck out of this backwater county. And we all agree the only way to do that is by slaughtering the fucking cult!"

After downing the contents of her glass, she flipped it, signaling she was done.

"Alright Gray Kold, if you and your gang can help out the Cougars, then we'll help you all make it through this nightmare."

She was no fan of them supplying the cult with the means to hurt the people of this county, but but they hated Eden's Gate too. Enemy of my enemy. Afterwards, they'll probably go back to the status quo of lawman and criminal, but until then they were allies.

Kold seemed to believe the same thing.

"Deal!" They shook on it.

"Welcome to the Resistance."

With that done, the Deputy dusted herself off and was about to leave. However, she recalled that the Outlaws moved around a lot and pondered a question.

"By the way, have you seen a woman by the name of Cassidy Reddler? Red hair, green eyes, freckles, takes no shit?"

To her shock, Gray actually had a look of realization. "Yeah. We helped her out a few days ago. She was looking for something in one of the houses we were hiding out in."

Shocked, she pressed further. "Do you know where she is now?!"

He shook his head. "Sorry, Deputy. She left us on the same day. All I know is she went somewhere south."

'Damn. Well, at least it's a cardinal direction and her last location was here in the Henbane.'

"I see." She said sadly.

'It's a start.'

"Deputy, you know if you've lost contact with her for this long then you know something bad's happened to her right?" Kold tried telling her this as gently as he could. She somewhat appreciated him trying to not get her hopes up. Because she did have such thoughts.

"I don't want to think about it. I'd rather hope for the best then think of the worst."

"If it's any consolation, I hope I'm wrong and you find her."

"Thanks. We'll be in touch."

And with that she left the hotel with Black Hood. The masked vigilante was right behind her as they waited for one of the Resistance members they called to pick them up.

Joseph walked through Faith's Gate, unaffected and unimpeded by the smoky Bliss or the addled masses that stumbled inside. He gently caressed a few of the Blissed, seeing the pure joy and elation wash over their faces as he did. He wished everyone could be as happy as these lucky ones.

But alas, happiness was not for everyone. Not even for him.

As he made his way through the bunker, he went straight for Faith's room. The bunker, while smaller then both John and Jacob's bunker, it was retrofitted to be able to produce Bliss, both liquid and gas, in large quantities. The Followers mass producing the Project's wonder drug, gave him respectful bows as he passed, then quickly got back to work without a word.

'Dutifulness is next to godliness.' He thought.

He finally arrived at his destination. Standing in front of Faith's room was one of the very few Exalted, clad in nothing but black and armed with some of their deadliest weapons. These powerful warriors intimidated all.

All except Joseph. In fact, the juggernaut seemed to whine fearfully as it bowed its head and stood out of his way in order for him to enter, without a command.

Joseph entered Faith's room. As pleasant as a bunker room could be: four metal walls, filled with nothing but the bare bones. A cot on one side, alter of Joseph, surrounded by Bliss flowers and something that was covered by a white blanket.

Kneeling in the middle of the room was an undressed Faith, wearing only a pair of pure white panties. Her back was bloody from the whipping she was dutifully performing on herself with a flog. Even as he entered, she didn't stop and continued to lash her back as she chanted, "Father Joseph is with me always."

Joseph smiled at her, seeing her dedication to him. Other girls broke from this training, unable to handle its fortitude and devotion. The girl once known as Rachel Jessop was truly worthy of being the Project's Avatar of his Faith.

He grabbed her hand, stopping her and finally making her aware of his presence.

"Father." She smiled sweetly.

He gave her his hand. Taking it, he lifted her onto her feet.

"My dear Faith, do you know why you do this?"

Her eyes didn't twitch, even her voice didn't miss a beat as the blood slowly dripped down her back.

"Because I failed you, Father."

"No, my dear. Because you must be strong for all of us." He began to guide her to the bed. "You alone hold the Faith of all of Eden's Gate. You must believe in every single soul that follows us to Eden's Gate."

"It is . . . heavy Father. The Burden."

"I know it is, Faith. But I believe in you. Do you believe in me?"

She smiled happily. "Of course, Father."

He smiled back proudly. "Then let us begin."

Faith lied down on the bed, straight on her back. She looked up at the cold ceiling and waited for Joseph to finish strapping her down to the bed with leather belts. He then left her vision to retrieve the next part of the process, hidden under the white cloak.

Rolling over, with a grating screech coming from the wheels, were two tanks of pure Bliss, distilled into a gaseous form. It was some of their most potent stuff. Joseph attached a clear hose to a faucet, which was connected to a clear face mask, the kind one would use to apply oxygen to someone who couldn't breathe.

He placed the mask on Faith and gave her a couple of comforting pats onto her golden hair.

He turned the gas on, then watched the gas flow through the tube and into Faith.

At first, the girl just braced for it. Then she started coughing violently. Then she began hyperventilating. Her body convulsed as she tried to escape, but she was not strong enough to break through her binds. Joseph just continued smiling down at the suffering girl, as he firmly held her head down.

After about ten minutes of the girl struggling, she stopped and was just staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. Her eyes became milky white from the exposure.

'It's beautiful, isn't Faith?' Joseph thought happily. 'The world through Blissful Eyes. I wish we could share this with everyone.'

After about thirty minutes, he checked her pulse and found nothing. Turning off the canisters, he removed the mask and unstrapped Faith. Bliss gas poured out of her mouth and nose like smoke, as her lifeless eyes continued to stare up into Heaven.

"So many girls lost themselves in the Bliss, never to return." The Father said, unconcerned that his "little sister" was dead, as he put away all the materials. "Only you were ever able to return stronger . . ."

Like a jolt of lightening hit her, Faith rose from her bed with a deep, loud gasp.

"Because you truly believed in me."

Faith fell off her bed as she coughed up blood, saliva, and bile. She kept hacking and coughing, as her mind raced to get her bearings. She only stopped when the Father placed his gentle hand on her head. She couldn't stop the shiver running down her spine.

"That is why you carry my Faith inside you. Only you are strong enough to bare it and bring it to all those lost souls. Do you understand, Faith?"

Faith looked up with a manic smile plastered on her face. "Yes, Father. I do understand."

Joseph smiled toothily back at her.

'For my Flock to be strong . . . Faith must be strengthened.'