The smell of human shit filled his nose. He couldn't remember how long he'd been in this cage for. Too long.

When he first was thrown inside, bound and gagged, there had been only one other person in the cages. It had been two days at least, and now the crates around him were full up.

"Who the fuck puts people in cages?"

Once they first grabbed him off the street, he'd been unsure which sibling he was being sent off to. He hoped it was Faith. Drowning in drugs sounded better than being tortured or indoctrinated. Even though they were in the Holland Valley, John didn't keep people in cages. They didn't do that this far south. He had the nauseating feeling he'd be shipped off North – which was arguably the worst outcome of all. He saw all the missing person's posters of the people who lived in the Whitetails – well, before the cult ripped them down and replaced them with "Wanted" posters. He'd heard of the Soldier – Jacob Seed – and his psychotic followers. They were arguably the scariest out of the entire Eden's Gate group.

He shuffled inside his prison cell. It was outside the Copperhead Rail Yard, completely exposed to the elements. The cages looked pretty shoddy, clearly the cult had used the leftover scrap metal from the old trains to make them. If he had paid less attention on video-gaming and programming and more attention in his high-school's gym class, he might've been able to break free by now. He had been here for two fucking days and the closest thing he'd had to a shower was last night's rain. At least he didn't die of thirst. Some of the other prisoners had cried the first few hours of being trapped. It stopped after a while once they realised the futility. Trying hurt, he'd learnt that quickly. His stomach hurt now. He would kill for one of the burgers you used to get from the Grill Steak. An aching, hollowed-out feeling gripped his insides, like he had a massive hole in his gut. Was this some sort of test? They were gonna starve them? He hadn't been given even a scrap of food since they'd locked him in here, with the two other people he shared his cage with. A chubby guy wearing a trucker hat and a tank top – his face almost unrecognisable from bruises and a broken nose – and a brown-haired woman wearing a leather waistcoat. Not the Peggie kind though, the cool punk kind. Neither of his inmates had spoken during their time in the cage, so he hadn't either. He knew he was socially-awkward anyway, but this wasn't the time to make friends.

The two Peggies that patrolled them around the clock were sitting on an old tram nearby. One had an aluminium bat which glinted in the light of the nearby lanterns, while the other wore a long black leather trench-coat, and was holding some kind of gun. The one holding the bat was the more talkative of the two, he sometimes listened to the guy drone on about "Atonement" – whatever that was.

"I envy those free souls, they wander around without seeing God's light – they don't understand or care about the Father's higher purpose, they don't fear the Collapse", he was rambling off again to his co-worker. "They are like the shepherds before Gabriel descended upon them, spreading the word of Christ's birth". His partner whipped around furiously.

"Do not desire to be amongst them, brother Simon. They are Godless and weak", he snarled. The guy with the bat, Simon, bowed his head shamefully.

"Yes, brother Seth. I will pray to the Father so that I may repent", his voice sounded whiny, like a kid after being scolded.

"No more talk of the sinners, let us pray I do not report to John of your insolence".

He smirked, that got the Peggie to jump. There they went, the two guards kneeling in the mud. They cared little for the state of their clothes, and began muttering the word "Joseph" under their breath. Who the fuck hired these shits? He turned away, not wanting to see any more. He stared through the slate-grey bars towards the sky. Some of the stars were out, shining down. Even in the midst of the war, Montana was still as beautiful as ever.

"How many hours until dawn?", he pondered to himself. He would work at his bindings again if he could, but they had changed them to handcuffs. He had almost broken through the first bonds they'd put him in – thick rope – that he had managed to cut through after a few hours when the guards were facing the other way. He sighed, a fortunately-placed scrap of metal had allowed him to slice through the rope, but would do nothing against the handcuffs now. He never imagined this would be how it ended for him. He always thought that he'd die old, with a collection of comic-books and He was as good as done for-

Crack

Two shots rang out. He flinched, trying to cover his head with his knees. There was no pain, so he could assume he was safe from the bullets. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the agonising pain of a bullet tearing through him.

Nothing came.

"Put your hands up!". A voice called out from the darkness. It was melodic and warm, but the venom was clear as it addressed any remaining guards to surrender. If there were, none responded. They spoke again; and Bean could make out the soft, musical sounds that let him know - the voice belonged to a young woman. He heard footsteps crunching on gravel, he could see a female's silhouette against the security light. The glint of a rifle hit his eyes in the darkness, as she came closer. A pair of bright eyes glittered as she spotted the cages, and he heard a sharp inhale. Jackpot.

Hope welled up in his chest as she approached. The young woman slung her snipe-rifle over her shoulder, counting the darkened figures of the prisoners.

"I wouldn't bother, some of them are corpses", his hoarse voice surprised both of them. The woman nearly jumped when she heard it. He waggled around in his bonds, making as much movement so she could see who spoke. He hoped she would spot him in the dark. The woman made her way through the maze of cages, tiptoeing around the other prisoners as a safety measure. He saw her legs approach the cage, her muddy black boots were stained brown. She bent down to a crouch, a look of recognition flitting across her features.

"Bean Jenkins?", she spoke his name. Or his nickname, at least. "Richard's little bro?", she asked. He nodded enthusiastically, his heart leaping at her softening voice, as she pulled out a lighter from the pocket of her jeans. She flicked it open, a small flame producing from her fingertips, and held it up to her own face.

His heart did a flip.

"Deputy!", one of the other prisoners stirred, hope shimmering in their eyes. The junior deputy stood up, patting the bars of the cage for a second. The other prisoners began to move, shuffling around anxiously. He could hear dozens of relieved sighs, they were safe.

"Kenny Hyde?", she spoke to the chubby man, who let out a shout of relief upon seeing her. Bean was amazed she recognised him through all the bruises. "Gina Guerra?", the deputy turned her lighter to the punk woman. She didn't move. The deputy nudged her gently, but the woman didn't say anything.

"It's the deputy", hushed, hopeful voices whispered around the cages.

"Don't worry folks, we're gonna get you outta there", the young officer stood up. She reached onto her belt where a radio hung, pressing buttons and making it crackle to life. "Grace, get the crowbar".

It took little more than ten minutes to get everyone out. Two other women joined the Deputy, one Bean recognised as Grace Armstrong, the Olympic bronze medal winner. He'd seen the billboards of her around the valley enough to know her face. The other woman had a dark-green hood which he couldn't see under, although two eyes glittered out wickedly from underneath. The trio of mercenaries worked quickly, breaking open every lock and slowly helping people up. Bean was wrong about the amount of dead people, there were only two, which he expected were higher. 18 shivering people, covered in blood and dirt stood outside the cages now. His legs felt wonky – he hadn't used them in days, and he couldn't tell on him what was mud or his own filth. Bean swallowed nervously, wondering what his mom would say when she smelled him.

"What do we do now?", he approached the deputy nervously. She had been leaning against a Peggie truck, murmuring orders into her radio. She turned to him, one eyebrow raised comically, and he was amazed at how gorgeous her eyes were. They were bright and warm against the darkness of the night around them, reflecting the light of the stars above, but it made him immediately feel at ease.

"Won't be long", she tapped her nose. Ms Armstrong approached her and Bean, holding on her green-sighted rifle tightly. She muttered something to the deputy, before walking to one of the ladders. Bean watched the sniper perch on the roof, watching the road that led to the old rail yard.

She was telling the truth – within half an hour a group of trucks appeared down the road, dazing him with the bright headlights. Men and women climbed out, wearing bulletproof vests with the American flag on them, all armed to the teeth. He didn't feel afraid, he felt relieved. It was good to see something familiar, even if it was just the nation's flag. The leader of the group, some bald guy shook hands with the Deputy, who nodded over to the unconscious punk woman. Bean and everyone else was ushered into the trucks, all of them got in without hesitation. They knew they were safe.

The Deputy had saved them.

Before the trucks rumbled back to Fall's End, the deputy carried the unconscious punk woman – Gina – to the truck. For one woman, Bean was amazed how strong she was. She gently lowered the punk chick into the truck bed, setting her down bridal-style.

"Get her to Jerome. I'll radio ahead, let him know he needs to prepare another bed", she spoke to the Resistance leader. The last thing that Bean saw was her thumping on the back of the truck, setting them rumbling off into the night.

He had a lot to tell him mom and bro when he got back.

XXX

Rook watched as the trucks kicked up dust from the dirt road, the beams from their headlights blinking off into the distance. Jess finished looting all the corpses she came across, and Grace landed on her feet from the roof. Dep exchanged looks with the rest of her Lionesses. No words needed to pass between them as they headed off in their own directions, each having their own responsibilities they wanted to take care of. Another weight lifted off her shoulders – they'd rescued more of John's prisoners, to be exported like cattle all around the county.

"This won't make up for earlier at the Lumber Mill", she kicked the side of the metal cage with her boot. "But those people are safe now". Peaches nuzzled against her, causing Dep to look down.

"Just you and me, huh baby?", she purred loud enough to rival the cougar, who blinked in response. Dep sometimes wondered if Miss Mable knew the dangers of keeping a wild animal as a pet – Peaches was a killing machine, it was no wonder she hadn't escaped from the taxidermy up in the Henbane before the cult moved in.

The Henbane. She hadn't been into the Henbane River since her last little trip with Faith, ending in her literally tripping. The fields of Bliss flowers, with their white angel trumpet heads and pale-green stalks, had filled her brain with fog and clouded her senses. She didn't want to go through that again. The sickening feeling of falling, constantly, like the lurching stomach one experienced when accidentally tripping downstairs – except it was ongoing. The rush of adrenaline, the frightening freedom of weightlessness, that you were falling and about to hit the ground at any second – but you had lost the ability to care.

That was the power of the Bliss – a way for people to become so doped up that they didn't care they were signing a one-way ticket into a doomsday cult. Dep had left the place in the capable paws of the Cougars, and she wanted to check in on how Virgil and Tracey were doing back at the jail. She made her way across the eastern bridge, away from Holland Valley with the threat of John Seed and towards a new foe.

The night was long; it was in the very early hours of the morning, past midnight and yet despite the creeping feeling of sleep coming over Dep, she still felt inclined to do more before she turned in. The wind was blowing east tonight, and she was obliged to answer the call.

"C'mon kitty cat", she whispered into tan fur. "Let's go see what trouble we can find"

XXX

It had been less than half an hour of walking (or bounding, for Peaches) when the odd sight of a large illuminated cow greeted the pair.

"Lorna's Truck Stop", Rook muttered, reading the sign from across the river. She could faintly remember Adelaide mentioning an old friend of hers by the same name. The bridge leading out of the valley was unguarded, so Dep took the opportunity to sneak across towards a billboard overlooking the area, Peaches' crouching behind her. They approached the gas station, spotting guards carrying rifles so diverted off the road into the safety of some trees nearby. There was a ridge above and out of sight, near another old buildboard that had been taken over by Peggie propaganda. Dep slung her rifle over her shoulder, shimmying up and away from the road. Checking that the coast was clear from any cult patrols, she scrambled towards the small hill, pulling herself up onto a jutted piece of rock. The exert was more than she was expecting, making her puff for a second and reminding her to work more on her upper-arm strength.

"Running around the county doesn't do anything for your arm muscles", she gritted her teeth, pulling herself up and rolling over into the soft grass. Peaches keeping watch from the bushes below, Dep groped at her back, grabbing her rifle and lying down on her front. The grass was soft enough to keep her somewhat comfortable, which was lucky. Observing the landscape through her scope, Dep honed in towards the guards, calming her breathing and settling her finger over the trigger. This place was on the edge of the region, which made sense why the Cougars hadn't managed to overturn Eden's Gate's activity in this area.

"Oh well, more for me", she felt herself sigh internally, eyes narrowing at a guard standing away from the rest of the outpost.

Bright headlights glared from down the road.

Dep scrambled back within her cover, rolling over in the long grass. Peaches hissed angrily and bared her teeth, but darted up the hill and down in the tall-grass beside the cop without issue. Rook peered over the ridge above the gas station, allowing her hands to grasp at the binoculars and peer through them. A car convoy had driven up and was now parked outside the establishment, the doors opening with a clunk as several scarlet figures stepped out. One of Faith's priestesses, with her dyed-red hair and tattooed forehead, alongside her two crimson bodyguards in balaclavas.

Shit

"I feel blessed to have the security, my brothers", the cult priestess observed some of the lowly-ranking Peggies at the gas-station scrambled about, filling up the trucks with fuel. From her perch above their heads, Dep was (fortunately) close enough to hear what they were saying. "But may I ask, what is the reason?", she preened at the two Chosen, batting eyelashes and clutching one of the white books the cult liked to distribute. The "Book of Joseph", Dep had seen it before that night in the Church. The same night she'd come face to face with the Father himself. His periwinkle-blue eyes were tinted green from his yellow-sunglasses, cracked from the chopper crash...

Rook cursed at her luck. What are the odds she finally re-enters the Henbane and is almost immediately caught by one of Faith's personal ladies-in-waiting?

The Chosen nearest to the priestess grunted disapprovingly as the other followers of Joseph clumsily darted around them, nearly spilling gas on his toes. "We're near the Holland Valley, ma'am", his voice was gruff, displaying none of the politeness that his words offered. "The Deputy's been causing all kind of trouble. That's why shipments are being monitored tightly, and we're tasked to keep a close watch". Dep's head snapped to attention at the mention of her name.

"Mmm", the priestess hummed in amusement, her voice changing to be amused and... almost motherly. "Your role is appreciated within the Project. We all value how hard you work, especially since brother Jacob has you running after her at every opportunity"

"The fuck!?", Dep's body dropped low to the ground. The pounding of her heart blocked out the response from the Chosen. Jacob was actually sending his men after her?

"What the fuck does he want with me?", she chewed her lip worriedly, biting until she tasted the stinging flavour of her own blood. "What causes someone as calculated and... co-ordinated as a guy like Jacob Seed to look for one person at the drop of a hat? And at the extent of his entire operation!?". Even though she hadn't seen the Soldier in months, something in her gut was squeezing her tightly. Dutch's words from a few nights ago were becoming even more poignant now.

You watch yourself, kid. It's getting nasty out there.

A growl from Peaches startled Rook to attention. The cult priestess and her bodyguards were finishing up their conversation, and retreating to the trucks. She clung to the grass underneath her, revelling in the feel of the soil as she kept herself grounded. When the sound of car doors slamming shut reached her ears, she peeked over the top of the hill like a rabbit sticking its head out of its burrow. The Peggies who were filling up the convoy's gas have backed away, leaving the Chosen to help the Priestess back in her car. Once all the doors slammed shut one of the soldiers turned away abruptly and snarled to his partner.

"Fucking bitch. We could be bringing in that Jezebel instead of driving around Faith's acolytes". The partner snickered as both clambered inside, the convoy driving off into the night.

The sour taste of disgust was on Dep's tongue, although her lack of surprise at what she heard was – in itself – unsurprising. It's no wonder that such a crazy religious cult was probably filled with a bunch of misogynists. That Joab, the one Jess mentioned the night they killed the Cook, was probably the worst of all.

"I bet he trained his Chosen with all the same attitude". Her eyes glared into the distance where they came – satisfied when no more lights or noise came her way. She gripped her sidearm, letting her feet slide down the hill towards the Gas Station. The guards outside were tired from the late hour, making it easy to get rid of them.

Good. She wanted this to be quick and clean.

A sharply-aimed bullet each and she was able to drag their bodies into the bushes. Inside the building, flickering fluorescent lights, illuminated the forms of hostages. Hog-tied and lying on the floor was four feminine figures, and she recognised the one who was closest to her hiding spot. Bright red lipstick, equally fiery-red hair and wearing greasy, oil-stained overalls - was Lorna herself.

"Thanks darlin'", the woman in her mid-50s told Dep after she'd taken care of all the Peggies. They were thrown in a pile outside in a bush-covered ditch; hopefully no Peggie would find them until morning if they happened to snoop around the place and wonder where all the cultists were. Lorna stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek gratefully, causing the officer to make note of the lip-mark staining her cheek. Last thing she needed was Sharky poking fun at her.

"No problem", she managed to prevent herself from turning pink as Lorna chuckled from her reaction. "We better get out of here though", she helped one of Lorna's gas attendants up off her feet, a girl no more than 19 with strawberry-blonde hair who was sporting a pretty nasty black eye. "A convoy came in recently, I'm guessing it won't be long before another shows up and we're shit outta luck".

"Lemme get my lotto money", the woman snorted, dashing behind the counter and unlocking a small metal safe. She re-appeared with an armful of dollar bills, making Dep's eyes pop. Two of the girls rushed forward, helping their boss carry all the stashed money while Dep sat with the youngest girl, attending to cuts on her arms. Seeing the wads of cash was almost sentimental, in a weird way. Dep felt her heart lift somewhat, and not at the prospect of spending. She'd been living in this fight for so long - it had to be months and months now - that remembering that there was a world outside Hope County was almost difficult to imagine. There was still a life out there for her, a world that still used dollar bills and had cars that weren't riddled with bullet holes, and small towns in America where people didn't run secret sovereign states. There was still law and order, and even a president - as demented as he was, he still existed.

Once all the valuables had been scooped up, Dep shook off her musings and managed to hotwire an abandoned Peggie truck. It'd be best if they got outta dodge ASAP since the cult seemed to run their patrols and convoys here. It didn't take long to help the rest of the young women climb on board. Dep carried one of the young girls – Lorna's niece, who worked there part time for her aunt - and set her down in the truck bed with the rest of the ladies.

"Thanks", the girl nodded quietly as Dep wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She jumped into the driver's seat, not wanting to waste any more time and whislted for Peaches, who leapt into the truck bed. Dep pumped the gas, flooring it towards the bridge back to the Holland Valley.

Only after they'd crossed the Henbane did Dep breathe out a sigh of relief, relaxing slightly in her seat as Lorna put her feet up on the dashboard. They could hear the girls in the back of the truck fuss over the big cat, who was lapping up the attention. Dep felt a smile tug at her lips. "Such a softie".

"So, not to sound ungrateful for anything", Lorna crossed her arms jovially, causing Dep to turn her head. "But when young lasses such as yourself rescue me and my gals-", she jammed a thumb to her employees in the truckbed, "-from bearded cult-fucks in the middle of the night, I usually like to know where they're taking me".

"Fall's End", Rook hummed. "Adelaide asked me to find you and see if you were, well…"

"Still alive?", Lorna grinned teasingly. Dep sent her a nod. "Good old Addie. I knew that girl was looking out for me", she crossed her legs, resting them on the dashboard. Rook felt her mouth harden into a thin, tight line. "Got any smokes on you?". Without taking her eyes off the road, Dep reached into the breast pocket of her jacket and pulled out a packet and her lighter, tossing both onto the woman's lap. Lorna shook her head at the lighter, tossing it back for Dep to catch, and pulled out her own – decorated in patriotic red, white and blue. She flicked it open, held the cigarette between her front teeth, rolled down the window and puffed out a cloud of fog.

"What's all this about the Chosen?", Dep pointedly stared at the gravel road in front, illuminated by the truck's headlights. Hearing the news about Jacob sending his goons after her wasn't what she was hoping to hear tonight. If she was being honest, it chilled her to the core. The Soldier, the cult's muscle - with his drugged-up Judge wolves and psychological "trials" - was now taking an interest in her, whether she liked it or not. Going after the Cook was seeming less and less like a good idea as each day passed. Well, shit. He was already dead. She'd put her foot in it and now, it seemed the consequences were catching up real fast.

"These fucking numbskulls", Lorna spat out of the window, causing Dep to grimace. "They hardly knew how to run those damn convoys of theirs – that's why they kept me and my girls as their prisoners", she nodded to the shivering women in the back of the truck. Dep eyed them through the driver's mirror; they'd calmed down ever since rescue, and were fussing over Peaches, but it was clear from their anxious, silent faces that once this was all over they'd need some serious therapy. A tightness rose up in Dep's throat but she swallowed it down. At least they were safe now. "They never came down this far south before, until…"

"I think that's my fault", Rook's head shook bitterly. She sensed Lorna's eyes guarding her curiously, over her glowing joint.

"Don't mention it hon, you're the best thing that's happened to this shithole for a long time". Dep's chin tilted quietly, waiting for the middle-aged mechanic to finish, but shook her head nonetheless.

"I appreciate it, but….", she trailed off, not wanting to get into that can of worms. It was flattering, to be heralded as a hero, but Dep didn't want this. She'd signed up to become a cop, but not a whole damn war. She'd come to Hope County to start a new life, to finally have her own career - one she adored - but now her own life and newfound freedom had been snatched away. Now, she was the poster-child for resisting the cult. The chances of just walking away from it all were now a big, fat zero. She owed it to Hope County, and to herself, to finish what she started. She'd do her job, her purpose. It was the least she could do. It was the only thing she could do.

"Anyway, what be the reason that Jacob Seed sends his boy scouts after you?", Lorna's voice crackled with interest. Dep coughed, flapping the air desperately to get rid of the smoke that had built up inside the truck. Lorna let out another clucking laugh like a chicken, seeing the concern in Dep's eyes.

"I guess he wants to invite me over for coffee?", she joked weakly. The truck shook as the mechanic threw her head back and cackled. In the interior mirror, she could see the girls in the back looking over with concern.

"I like you, lass. You've got fire", she flashed a smile of brilliantly white teeth, which was amazing for someone who was clearly such a heavy-smoker. "Jacob wouldn't be able to handle your kind of spunk if he tried". Dep's smile faded, gluing her eyes to the road. "If he does ask you on a date, let me know, won't you?", Lorna leaned forward, a wicked grin plastered on her face.

"So you can play matchmaker?", Dep's lips involuntarily quirked upwards. She was liking Lorna already.

"So I know what kind of girls he's into".

The truck nearly swerved off the road.

"Alright, alright", tears of laughter ran down the older woman's cheeks. "I'll stop teasing. Let's just get back to town in one piece"

"Thank fuck for that", Dep felt her fingers squeeze the steering-wheel tightly.

XXX

Author's Notes:

Bean is a character from Far Cry: New Dawn. You can find him at Prosperity I believe - he's notorious for asking people around town for what an orgasm is. I gave him the surname "Jenkins" since his real name isn't revealed to us as the player/audience, but I thought that'd be a little Easter-egg for hardcore fans ;) The role of this Chapter was to take the perspective off Dep and Jacob and to give it to someone else for once, and show the impact the Deputy is having on the rest of the county - i.e, how liberating an outpost can be a matter of life-and-death on the hostages that are kept there.

I felt like there'd be some kind of misogyny in the Cult. Despite them recruiting both men and women I think (from the conversations between NPCs in-game) it's clear that some members of Eden's Gate (namely John) don't view the female members (such as Faith) as equal to male members. Playing as a female deputy I did find some of the Peggie's voice lines quite amusing while they're searching for you, stuff like "You're just a scared little girl!". Please bish. I whooped all of your asses xD

I'm not sure if I ever explained it but the cult (from the very first chapter of this fic, at least) call Dep "Jezebel" because it's a biblical word for prostitute, I believe. (I studied The Handmaid's Tale for 2 years but correct me if I'm wrong). I actually like the name Jezebel cause it sounds cool and there are butterflies of the same name but I thought it'd be an awesome nickname for the female deputy, since Eden's Gate are supposed to be extreme "Christians". According to Google, Jezebel's definition is typically a "bad-girl" or "whore" when referred to in a biblical sense but originally she was the wife of a king so...? You could technically empower someone by calling them Jezebel. She's a queen! (Petition to give all female biblical names with negative connotations good meanings instead).

Also Lorna is a lesbian icon lol xD While we never see her in-game I thought she'd be an awesome character who'd be friends with Adelaide (I loved writing her dialogue), and she'd have a troupe of female employees who help her run the Truck Stop. Her niece works there as well as some of the young women of Hope County who get part-time jobs in the summer. I think Hope County (while it's definitely spring/summer in-game) is set to be in April/May originally cause that's the time it came out in 2018, like how Detroit: Become Human is set in November oh wait - nevermind, that came out in May. RIP. Anyway, I've written it to be set in late spring! It'll get warmer more as it goes to summer, you can see how time passes since Hope County gets warmer and sunnier and Dep's hair grows out longer :)

When I imagined Lorna the idea of this sassy badass with her group of girls running a truck stop - it felt very iconic. I suppose Lorna and Dep have a lot in common then, both are hardcore rebels of Eden's Gate and have a group of badass women by their side xD We like empowerment and the overturning of rigid gender roles in this community ^^