Far Cry 5: The Collapse
Chapter 15: Side effects may include...
Heavy clouds settled over Hope County bringing with it much needed rain to the farmland that morning. But as Roger and Joey made their way up to the Clinic to be cleared for combat at least one of them was less than thrilled with the change in the weather.
'All this rain is going to make climbing around the mountain at the camp a muddy nightmare tonight even if it somehow stops raining right now.' Joey thought as nature responded to her thoughts with an another wave of rain that was even louder and harder than the last.
"Cheer up Joey at least the rain will keep the peggies mostly indoors and slow to respond to anything happening outside." Roger said as he drove.
"Now I'm the one thinking too loudly." She said sourly.
Roger smiled. "No. You're having the same pre mission thoughts that most green but well read soldiers tend to go through. You aren't naïve enough to just think about the rain as just a normal thing but how it will effect your next mission which is good to do, just don't let it dominate your thoughts otherwise you'll miss out on other details."
"I guess we are soldiers now aren't we?" She said watching a bolt a lighting spider across the sky from cloud to cloud. God was sure giving them a light show right now that was for sure.
"In a way yes we are. But we are not the first mostly untrained people thrust into combat in the history of the world. We are 'La Résistance', normal everyday people taking up arms to defend their way of life from a hostile and violent force. It's happened since antiquity and while the details and tools of every instance are slightly different the core spirit is still there Joey, we fight when no one else will or can as is our case." He said as they reached the Clinic.
Once inside the little building seemed... empty. The halls no longer were crowded with beds or sleeping bags crammed with wounded pulled from John's bunker. There where going to be a lot more graves to be dug in Fall's End it seemed.
Joey was the first called in by Dr. Ferguson. The fifty something graying doctor had dark bags under his eyes as he asked her the usual exam questions and took a blood sample to 'check for a potential issue'.
When he came back Joey felt the need to ask about his own condition overwhelm her usual senses.
"Doc are you ok? You look like you haven't slept in days." She asked gently.
The doctor regarded her briefly before he answered her. "Well Deputy I haven't been sleeping well since... hell the start of everything. I will admit that delivering Carmina was a needed bright spot in my day but we have... other pending issues on top of the fact that those who I couldn't properly treat after we pulled them out of the bunker have been dying left and right."
He sat down on a rolling stool and continued seemingly happy to vent even if somewhat. "On one hand I'm saving space and resources for those that I can treat fully but... having to tell in some cases the last surviving member of a family that their loved one died because I couldn't treat them with what I had, it all wears on you. Its one thing to do it a few times over a career but I'm blowing the norm out of the water at this point. I'm sorry I shouldn't burden..."
Joey silenced him by hoping off of the exam table and embracing him. "Doc you've been my families doctor since I was 10 years old. I know you are doing everything you can to save as many of us as possible just as I'm trying to save many people as I can. Just please don't forget to take care of yourself as well."
She pulled back and looked the doctor in the eyes. "If you need anything even just someone to talk to feel free to ask for me to come down and I will do everything I can to come... hopefully without any extra wounds to treat."
The last comment drew a tired laugh out of the doctor as he felt his spirits recover somewhat. "Thanks Hudson. I will admit I have been giving my people days off except for myself, I guess I'm the one that needs to take my own advice and give myself a day at least."
She nodded and sat back down on the exam table. As the doctor went back to his papers. "Ok Joey as far as being cleared to fight you are healing very well and should be good to go back to fighting the peggies. Now that said I have some concerns but if you don't mind I want to wait until I examine Roger and see if my suspicion is supported by his blood work before I brief you both on my theory if it holds like I expect it too."
She nodded and he sent her out to bring in Roger.
The giant lawman now sat on the exam table as the weary looking doctor started asking his usual questions, another round of X-rays, and took another blood sample. He sat on the exam table for what seemed like a lifetime before the doc came in with a pale look on his face.
"Roger I have good news and bad news." Dr. Ferguson said.
"Bad news first doc. You know that." He replied as he mentally braced himself for the worse.
"Ok your overall hormone levels are still sky high and your testosterone alone as gone up another 2000 nanograms per a deciliter. Now knowing that I'm not seeing anything else going wrong per say in your X-rays that you should worry about in the short term. Long term well that's something I want to talk to both you and Joey about." The doctor said rattling off what his paperwork told him.
"Ok so what's the good news?" He asked not really surprised at the news.
"I'm clearing you for combat again. Just again don't get yourself exposed to any more Bliss at least directly. At this point... well I'll tell you when Joey gets in here." The man said as he walked out briefly and brought Joey back in who sat beside him on the exam table.
The doctor clasped his hands as if to psyche himself up in spite of the news he was about to deliver.
"Ok so after I first did Roger's blood work and noticed a increase in hormones and other physiological changes I started testing others. First myself, then my staff, and then certain members of the Resistance that I thought would provide good data including Roger your parents."
He took another deep breath before continuing. "Roger while you by far out of everyone that is still alive have seen the most direct exposure to Bliss the fact is that everyone has been exposed to Bliss to one degree or another. I took a look at some of John's chemists notes on how to test for Bliss outside of human blood, water and food for example. We have notable amounts of Bliss in our water supply both from the municipal water system and in the Henbane river, its in our food as well both in the crops and the in the meat that we eat. John's people apparently noted this change months ago but they thought it was because of their fertilizer which I figure only added to what I am seeing here."
"What does this mean for the community?" Joey asked horrified.
The Doctor looked at her dead in the eye. "I don't know. In my testing on myself and others I have seen... minor physiological changes. For example your father Roger is seeing new cartilage growth in his joints most notably in his knees. I'm seeing the same thing, also I weighed myself yesterday for the first time in a good while and I have dropped 20lbs which I suspect isn't because of stress and I'm eating just as much if not more then I did before all this. I'm just a rural doctor so this is quickly getting outside of my scope of medical knowledge but I think a side effect of the Bliss's euphoric effects is making the body itself 'feel happy' and when the body is 'happy' it starts growing and strengthening itself."
Roger's mind instantly returned to that 'Judge Moose' that they killed yesterday and how its bones had grown in strange ways.
"Good God doc... I have seen first hand what this stuff does to animals. That moose we killed yesterday if you haven't heard about it, I skinned its chest and looked at its rib cage. Doc this thing looked like the ribs grew wider and thicker until they started overlapping each other like some form of natural armor, then there is the additional muscle that bastard was carrying. God in heaven what's going to happen to us? Hell even if we beat the cult the Bliss will remain."
Joey was silent as she herd the news. "What about me?" She asked.
"Joey you are higher than average as far as exposure goes but still a few orders of magnitude behind Roger. Your own hormones are definitely elevated for your age but not quite record breaking." The Doc said happily.
"Oh good, I'm not at risk of... I don't know changing genders or getting those smoky green eyes or something." She with a sigh of relief.
"You and me both Joey." He quipped as the doctor looked on them with renewed interest.
"Oh you guys are a couple again? Well damn I owe your father $50, guess I will have to pay him at lunch today." He said.
Joey rolled her eyes as she noticed Roger get that 'lost in thought' look again.
"Roger what is it?" She asked.
"The Bliss exists in only one place in the entire world. A green, lush place with vast forests, mountains, fields. Hidden away among the these places are a people known as the Resistance, who have recently held a prophecy that a giant man would come, a messiah who would lead them to true freedom from the Cult. The place is in Montana and it is known as Hope County." He said in trance like monologue.
"Did you just rip off the opening of David Lynch's Dune?" Joey asked with a smile threatening to break across her face.
"Yes. After all we are being exposed to a drug that will make our eyes change color." He said simply.
Joey started laughing as the doctor started slowly making the connection.
"He who controls the Bliss controls the fate of Hope County." He said as the doctor started laughing as well as he understood the reference.
"You say I am the Mah'Di... I say I am your Duke!" He continued as he thrust his clinched fist into the air drawing another round of laughter from all.
"Ok now you are going too far by mixing Dune versions." Joey said as she caught her breath.
He too started to recover as he spoke. "I'm... I'm not totally wrong though. He who controls the Bliss can stop it from being constantly added to the water especially if its now in the tap water. That means the cult is probably adding it to the water supply. Oh fucking hell..." He swore as he realized Faith's probable game.
"What?!" Asked Dr. Ferguson excitedly.
"Basic siege warfare, taint your enemies water supply or in this case fill it with your drug and soften up your enemy as they drink, cook, and bathe their way into a blissful stupor. Faith doesn't need to come to us to fight us not when she can just sit back, make Bliss, and watch us be grateful that she isn't coming after us directly." He said pinching the bridge of his nose.
"But the Bliss isn't having that effect on us though. Yet at least." the doctor said looking back down at his papers for the two deputies.
"Faith's people developed this stuff, so who knows when they will find another variant of Bliss that does get the desired effect? In any case the best option we have is to secure the Deep North Water Treatment Plant then after that monitor the water quality and see if there is someway to reverse this eventually." Joey said drawing nods from both men.
"Well I won't lie even after all the bad news I have found out at least now I know we have a rough plan in place to do something about it. Feels good to make some real progress for once." The doctor said as he got up to leave.
"Remember both of you, try everything you can to limit your direct exposure to the Bliss and if anything feels off you drop everything and come see me so I can at least document it. That way if we ever get help hopefully I can have something to show someone who is more knowledgeable about this then I am." He added just as he turned to leave.
The two of them went back to Fall's End and now with the doctors blessing that they could go back to fighting the cult the both of them spent the free time before lunch cleaning their guns and loading their magazines. Joey was still a bit nervous though.
This wasn't a hunting trip or a competition or even a high risk warrant. She was actually preparing for an actual combat mission and while she had killed plenty of peggies by now both in the bunker and outside her own home both of those were more spur of the moment acts instead of the deliberateness that she was preparing for now.
"Joey you have been staring at that shot shell for the last five minutes. Are you ok?" Roger asked setting aside the last of his loaded drums for his HCAR.
She sighed. "I'm still nervous and feeling like I'm way under prepared. I'm just a rural cop after all."
Roger reached over with both hands and clasped them around the shot shell and in turn her hand. "Joey look around the bar."
She did and saw all of Marcus Rook's men along with the elder Rook sitting at their respective booths doing much as they were. Loading up mags, preparing equipment, and looking at the map that bore the miniatures designating where each person would be.
"Joey I'm not authorized by the government to tell you the full details, but know this if nothing else you are going out with a group of the most hardened and skilled fighters this country can produce. Among those I am entrusting your life with, is my own father." He said gesturing with his head.
"And Dmitri?" She asked with a smile.
Dmitri was sitting right behind them in another booth and was likely listening in anyway.
"I can safely say from experience that its best to have a 'Mad Russian' on your side rather then face them." He said with a smile.
"Indeed." The Russian in question chirped in his native tongue.
"See Joey you are in good hands for your first real purposeful combat mission. Keep things simple and follow the orders you're given, See Peggie..." He started saying.
"Kill Peggie." She countered.
"Save the world. That's all you have to focus on and if things go smoothly on my end I'll be coming up to the main entrance of the camp and you know that's going to scare a lot of peggies when I show up. After this the next mission will be easier and you'll pick up the craft soon enough." He finished with a smile when Mary May came out of the kitchen with Casey in tow with stacks of Styrofoam containers with their lunches.
"Ok boys and girls here is your guys special lunches so you can all eat quick and run off to get some sleep for tonight." She said as she went around passing out the lunches.
The early lunch was mostly for Casey's sake as the cook would be joining the assault on the Youth Camp so he and Mary May had been preparing a standard lunch to hand out to everyone so he could get some rest before nightfall.
The group ate quietly and purposefully and as each man finished his meal he retired to get as much rest as they could manage before the operation started.
Roger and Joey did the same, retiring to their shared room. As Roger took off his shirts she looked at the various web of scars across his body, she had been wary about asking about his facial scars but now that she wasn't distracted by other needs her curiosity grew.
"Roger what can you tell me about some of your scars? If you don't mind?" She asked as she laid on the bedspread.
Roger chuckled softly "So Joey wants a story before bed. Well I got plenty as you noticed." He too laid on the bed and rolled to take her into his arms sighing in content at the contact. "Pick one and I'll tell you."
She ran a single finger gently down the side of his chest till she stopped on a set of five wide and long scars that ran front to back across his right side. "How about these?"
"Attacked by a snow leopard in Kazakhstan."
She moved up to his right shoulder blade to a long razor thin scar that stood out despite its narrow width.
"Belgium. Sword fight." He said.
"A sword fight seriously?" She asked as she looked across his chest for the next scar to ask about.
"Yeah really can't say more without breaking serious regs."
She came to small round thumb size scar on his right pectoral.
"Japan. Friendly fire from another sniper working in the area. Bullet hit my rifle at a angle and deflected until it burst out the inside of the stock and into my chest. I was lucky that he was using a subsonic 5.56 round out of a short barreled carbine so it didn't have much velocity to loose. Still that hurt a bit." He said as Joey moved a finger across the scars on his face.
"And these?" She ask softly as if just by asking she was treading on a sensitive subject.
"One is from a ISIS fighter that came at me with this big old Arab Saif Fulath or a steel broadsword in simple terms, I still have it actually. I had it dated by a friend who deals in antiquities and he dated it as a early 7th century sword. Might be a family heirloom or stolen from a museum, hard to tell. Another is from a angry husband in the Czech Republic that was upset that his wife was... aggressively trying to seduce me. I just needed to get to this guys home computer so I was more then happy to accept the advances of the wife and she was fairly pretty too boot." He said with a smile.
"Prettier then me?" She asked.
"No. Not quite and she was built like a twig too. The husband grabbed a steak knife and tried to slash at me. He only grazed me but it was enough to leave a mark. As for the dozen others those are all from one incident." He said softly.
"What was it?" She pried lightly.
"My own first combat action. Iraq. We were exiting out of our Stryker in this small city held by insurgents, and just as I stepped out of the Stryker a RPG round hit the wall of the building to my left. I literally hadn't been in active combat for five full minutes in my entire career back then. It hit too high but all the concrete and rubble flying tore up my face as you can tell. I couldn't get it treated for three days besides just regular compresses so I lived with it and that is another reason why it looks as bad as it does. Honestly it doesn't bother me and I can safely say that in my experience chicks dig the scars." He finished proudly.
"Yeah I think it does add a certain aura of experience to you." She said as she gently kissed him and tucked herself deeper into his massive chest.
The weather as they slept didn't let up in the slightest as it continued to dump sheets of rain even as darkness settled.
Marcus stood outside the Spread Eagle under the front overhang watching the rain and the accompanying light show of angry bolts of lighting cracking the sky seemingly every minute.
Casey stepped out of the bar to join his commander. "Haven't seen a storm quite like this since Panama."
"Yeah I'd have to agree and like Panama we can't really afford to delay the op. I've only held as long as we have so Roger and Joey can get cleared by the doc." Marcus said not taking his eyes off the sky.
"Roger I can understand why but with all due respect to Joey, she wasn't wrong when she was talking to Roger before lunch that she is just a rural cop. I'm not sure what she can bring to the table that we don't already have." Casey said respectfully.
The elder Rook smiled and looked at his friend. "We all start somewhere Casey. I remember when I first met you in Berlin you were just a green kid out of boot who managed to catch the right peoples attention. Even though honestly you didn't have anything special besides cooking and a talent for throwing knifes we packed you off to see if you could survive being trained, then afterwards we sent you into the field with some old guy with a taste for making guns and hauling around a M60 like it was nobodies business."
The two men shared a quiet laugh between themselves.
"Casey, Joey has more potential then I think any of us give her credit for. She's got a good head on her shoulders and is a good shot but more importantly she has that instinct on what should be done. You haven't seen the security footage from John's bunker but without even taking orders from Roger she was systemically clearing rooms as they made their way to the control room. When the peggies tried to break into her house according to Roger she didn't hesitate to stack up and shoot. She might not have the formal training but when the moment comes she thinks and acts instinctively, and both of us know that is damn hard to train someone in." Marcus said as Casey nodded in agreement.
Then Roger came out to join them outside and see first hand how the weather was.
"Well this is going to make being up in the grain elevator pleasant. So are we still go for the assault?" He asked his father.
"Yes however given the weather we won't be able to go in by air. I'm thinking of going by boat to cross the river so we don't need to try and attack the check points on the bridges. If I had Nick for air support I would go that route if we didn't insert directly as I originally hoped for. Marcus said.
"You have those River Chalets..." Roger started to but his father finished his thought.
"And they have eyes on the boat dock right across the river from them, I know. That means I either come up from the south from Kellet which with the weather we would be fighting the currents to push upstream or go from the Sliver Lake Trailer Park dock and risk passing no less than two peggie held bridges that might see us and report back that something is going on which can trip up both attacks. Yet another reason why I'm not happy it."
"Those Chelets also have good line of sight along the road, so if we drove in after you hit Lorna's they could see us go into the mountains." Casey added as both the Rook's nodded.
The bar door opened and the man that stepped out spoke up. "If I may make a suggestion Polkóvnik?"
Marcus looked at Dmitri who was now dressed in a all black pants and t-shirt matching the Dragunov slung across his back.
"I was just looking at the map considering our current issue with the weather. Those Chelets are at a narrow part of the river. I can set up at a comfortable spot with in walking distance of the railyard and provide sniper cover. It's only about 600 yards if my reading of the map is correct, well within my capabilities." The Russian said as he leaned up and relaxed against the wall of the bar.
"Ok but with this weather there are going to be few cultists outside for you to knock out." Roger asked his interest now peaked.
Dmitri nodded "Yes, you are correct but that is why I also suggest sending one or two people with a canoe up river near where Mr. Rye and Ms. Armstrong killed the last of John's Chosen convoys. They can get there without drawing attention from either the forces holding the bridges or anyone watching the river."
"That's far enough up river even with how fast the river current is they will have enough time to drift over to the far shore and approach the Chalets on foot and ghost everyone there." Marcus added now increasingly on board with the idea.
"Exactly. They don't have a large garrison there maybe five to seven people. Enough to always have someone on watch but not so many that they warrant the full resources of a proper outpost." Dmitri finished with a evil looking smile. To him it felt good to finally be a active part of the forces fighting directly against the cult, it was the type of personal cleansing that he needed after so long playing the role of the obedient cultist.
Casey spoke up. "Sir, I'll volunteer for the boat ride."
"Ok then we need one other person to go with you..." Marcus started to say before being cut off.
"I'll go." Another new voice came from the doorway of the bar.
Joey was now fully decked out in her armor. Her Beowulf and SPAS latched on to a backpack that carried ammo and other supplies, she also now wore her own black Sheriff's department issue Stetson to aid in keeping the rain off of her.
"Ok Joey, you want to go I'll let you but first we need to rush down to my shop and pickup a suppressor for that .50 cal of yours. It's a lot harder to be a ghost when your guns let everyone know you are in town." Marcus said as he waved her to go to his truck.
The impromptu meeting broke as Roger did a final check on his weapons in his room before a flash of lighting shined off of the long black rifle in the corner of the room.
Longinus sat in the corner with its spare mags and boxes of spare ammo. He hadn't had cause to use the gun or at least cause enough to know to lug the thing with him thinking back to the Judge Moose. But right now something in him was drawn to the massive anti-vehicle rifle.
'If I'm going to be camped up in the grain elevator tonight then it might be a good idea to bring it this time. Just in case.' He thought as he grabbed the rifle and lugged the beast on to the bedspread.
He grabbed the carry handle and depressed the button within it to rotate it to the 12 o'clock position where it locked firmly with the barrel's crown like collar. He held the receiver portion in place as he rotated the handle and barrel 90 degrees to the 3 o'clock position allowing him to separate the massive barrel assembly from the receiver making the whole package much easier to carry around by cutting the overall length of the gun in half.
He slung both the receiver and barrel on his back and adjusted the straps on his rucksack to allow him to wear the bag over the gun. As heavy as the combo was it strangely didn't feel like that to him which even he would admit that adding an additional 120 pounds on to his back was a bit much to carry for very long, but now it didn't really feel that much heavier than his usual load out.
'Got to remember to tell the doc about this. I'm strong but this is new even for me.' He thought grimly as he loaded the spare drums and ammo into another duffel bag and headed down stairs.
Meanwhile within the depths of Rook Industries Joey followed quietly behind Marcus as he traced a seemingly wondering path around his CNC machines that silently lay idle. Finally they reached the familiar "personal project" area where Marcus went over to his work bench and started looking through various drawers searching for something.
"Ah found it!" He said as he held up the massive black stretched soda can shaped suppressor for Joey to see. It was just a bit shorter than her forearm and had a step down reduction in diameter about half way down its length.
"I got the license from the boys at OSS Suppressor to copy their design and adapt it to calibers that they normally wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. This is the full size can, a bit heavy and long but it does a great job muzzling that Beowulf on a 16 inch barrel so I expect your monster will be even quieter. Also its more user serviceable then their design should you need it." He said handing it to her.
"Thanks Marcus." She said as she unslung her Beowulf and cleared it before setting it on a work bench labeled 'Roger's Bench – Don't touch!' on a crudely welded sign made from old stamped license plates that hung over head. She quickly located the wrench she would need to swap out the muzzle brake on the rifle for the new suppressor and set to work.
Marcus meanwhile quietly watched now as she worked. 'Eddie you would be proud of her if you were here. You really did raise her right.' He thought as she finished her work and held it up for his approval.
The can was made to partially slip over the barrel and go back under the free floated hand guard almost until it reached the gas block minimizing the added length to the rifle while further maximizing the internal volume of the suppressor.
"Looks good now time to re-zero it." He said as they took the gun back towards the testing range.
In short order Joey had her sights readjusted and was drilling neat cloverleaf groupings. Marcus looked on the familiar sight as he remembered watching Joey and Roger do the same thing as teenagers before hunting season.
"Good job Joey. I know you have heard this from Roger earlier but I wanted to add my own two cents if you don't mind. You're a lot better prepared for this mission then you think, you wouldn't have volunteered to ride with Casey if you didn't think you could do it. Just remember if or when everything does go wrong, act and don't lock up. Everyone talks about stopping and thinking when things go bad but in reality most of the time if you stop you die, so trust in your instincts and do what you have to do to survive." Marcus said in a fatherly tone.
Joey slung the rifle on her back and gave the older Rook a big hug surprising him but he quickly returned it.
"Thanks Marcus I... needed to hear that." She said pulling back.
"Your father would be proud Joey. Now lets get back to the bar and get this show started." He said as he led the way back to the surface.
Roger had loaded the canoe that Joey and Casey would be portaging and Dmitri now had dawned a gillie suit in preparation for his role. The change in plans thankfully didn't effect the Resistance fighters that would occupy Lorna's truck stop and the youth camp, even now they camped out at the Green-Busch Fertilizer plant waiting for their part in the operation to begin.
Soon after Joey and Marcus returned and while Marcus was coordinating the Grey's transportation Roger pulled Joey around the corner of the building out of sight from the others.
Instinctively they embraced each other and their lips met in a short but passionate kiss even as the heavy rain started drenching them.
"Make sure you come back to me Joey." He said in a soft and husky voice.
"You too. I love you." She replied.
"I love you too." He mirrored and they once more returned to the front of the Spread Eagle where everyone was finally loaded up.
"Lets get going folks!" Marcus called over the radio. As he and Joey jumped into his truck and roared into the night.
A hour later Joey and Casey launched their canoe into the raging river quickly whisking them towards the River Chalets. Beside the occasional night turned into day of the fierce lighting they were using the lights of their own target and their own local familiarity with the terrain to navigate the swift dark waters of the Henbane river.
Dmitri now laying in wait on the hill that over looked the river almost directly across from the cluster of Chalets and the office building that handled their renting out. As was expected there was only one man outside wrapped in a poncho manning one of the .50 cal emplacements setup at the end of the short dock, highlighted by the small electric lantern set at the base of the mount.
'The bastard looks down right miserable. Excellent.' He thought. Looking at his watch it was nearly 10pm which was the normal lights out time for the cult unless otherwise directed or if one was assigned night watch as the poor soul he now had in his crosshairs was.
"Volk to Grey Reaper. One hostile on night watch. Judging by the lights on the other buildings they should be going lights out in the next 10 minutes or so." He whispered into his radio.
"Grey Reaper copies." Came back the reply.
"Rayback to Grey Reaper. 30 seconds to landing. Will standby for your go." Casey called.
Meanwhile Roger finished making his hide at the top of the grain elevator after navigating the twisting narrow stairs. He was grateful for the previous sniper that was up here had dumped a few dozen empty cans worth of Raid wasp killer along his path showing that the various large nests he passed had been fully eliminated saving him from having to deal with the pests himself.
He now laid on some crates placed behind the open window that he had covered with some scrap black cloth he scrounged earlier to enclose his perch leaving only a thin gap facing his main target area. His bed of crates that he laid on was wide enough that he had both rifles setup and ready so all he would have to do is roll over to the next rifle should he need to use it. From where he was he could technically see the River Chalets but only in excellent weather and preferably daylight would he even dream of trying to hit a man size target at the nearly a mile and three-quarters from where he was set up.
Facing his own assigned target he peered through the high powered scope on his Barrett and sighted in his distance. Two peggies were on top of the roof over the gas pumps each manning one of the four .50 cal guns that had consistently driven off Nick every time he had gone to recon the area.
Another two were at ground level huddled around the pillars of the roof trying to stay out of the wind.
Overall the whole lot of them looked wet and miserable. Even religious fervor could only offset physical discomfort so much, still that same fervor is what kept them there at their posts.
"Black Reaper to Grey Reaper. I'm setup and can see four hostiles outside Two high and two low. The garage is dark and there only appears to be a small part of the gas station proper lit up besides the pumps."
"Grey Reaper copies, standby before engaging any targets." Marcus said as he sat inside his truck on the dirt road that would take him and the other Grey's to the dock that sat opposite of the Chalet dock.
With a solid sounding thump Joey and Casey impacted against the shore. They quickly jumped out and fully beached the canoe before drawing their rifles. Casey was armed with a big bore AR carbine with another matching suppressor like her own, this clashed slightly with him still wearing his normal plaid shirt and black leather cooking apron with its full selection of knifes and cooking utensils as if he was going to work another shift at the Spread Eagle
"Ok Joey here comes the hard part." Casey said as they slowly crept through the grass toward from large bushes that were only a dozen or so yards away from the Chalets.
"What's that Casey?" Joey asked just as they reached the bushes.
"Waiting." The cook replied.
Across from the river Dmitri saw for the briefest moments the two fighters approaching the Chalets. It was now a few minutes after 10pm and all but one of the cabins had gone lights out.
"Volk to Rayback. I still see one cabin that hasn't gone lights out can you see what they are doing?" He asked.
Casey quietly pushed himself through the bushes until he could see a mostly unobstructed view of the lit cabin. It was the one that was closest to the road and closest to their own position. There he could see a Peggie inside standing at what he guessed to be a corner kitchen sink alternating between watching each side of the road through the two corner windows.
Slowly he sunk back out of the bush before hitting his radio. "Rayback to Volk, the Chalet closest to the road as a watch man inside. Guess he got lucky tonight."
As Joey listened to Casey speak the wet hairs on the back of her pricked up as she felt the vibration of something heavy like a truck approaching from behind.
"Down! Down!" She said flattening herself against the ground just as Casey did.
A pair of white dump trucks the big seven axle 'Super Dump' type used by the local mines usually drove pass and turned into the cluster of Chalets. Suddenly all the lights that had gone out in the buildings now came back on as tired peggies came out to see the pair of trucks.
Dmitri saw the commotion and looked through his scope to better see just what was going on. These trucks were being driven by Chosen and the trucks themselves seemed to be based off John's 'Revelator' though smaller and more maneuverable he would guess. Cabs armored with scrap steel plates though they chose to leave the tires and engine compartment unarmored. For weapons they had four .50 cal mounts, single gun mounts on the sides and rear with the front being a large twin mount. The front mount sported a large transparent gun shield like what most American HMMWV tended to have around their roof mounted weapons.
Focusing back on the cultists it seemed that the Chosen were there as part of an surprise inspection as a few of their number spread out among the regular members checking weapons both hand held and and mounted. This at least gave him the benefit of now knowing exactly how many cultists their were at the Chalets.
"Volk to Grey Reaper. Spotted cult heavy armored gun trucks, looks like a poor mans Revelator. They are being driven by The Chosen as well. Please advise." He called out.
Marcus now had his interest peaked and got out of his truck and ran the 50 or so feet to the top of the hill leading to the dock so he could see with his own eyes what was going on. He pulled out a pair of pocket binoculars and saw what Dmitri was talking about.
"Grey Reaper to Black Reaper. I'll bet these guys are going to head to the gas station next. You may have to be the one to kick of this whole thing off before we can get into position." He said now moving back to his truck and to get out of the rain while he can.
At the Chalet one of the Chosen had broken off of the group and started moving towards the bushes.
"Volk, Rayback you have a Chosen heading your way!" Dmitri said shifting his aim to the man as he went partially behind the bushes.
Neither Joey or Casey could answer as the Chosen had literally walked right beside them and started relieving himself on the bush. Given the darkness and the rain he hadn't been looking around much and hadn't noticed the two unmoving bodies not three feet away from him.
'Please don't see us. Please don't see us. Please don't see us.' Joey thought as loudly as she dared as she watched the guy finish taking a leak. Then a particularly bright and long lasting bolt of lighting illuminated the whole area virtually turning it into daylight.
The Chosen had turned and looked up at the spectacle briefly before looking down to double check his pants fly and instead came into eye contact with Joey and Casey.
Time froze as both sides regarded each other for heartbeats as the light from the lighting above began to fade... then the light was gone and darkness returned.
The Chosen tried to turn to run but slipped on the wet grass in his haste giving Joey the time to swing her gun around and spray the Chosen with a burst of poorly aimed fire. At such short range the massive .50 Beowulf rounds tore though the Chosen and the light body armor he wore with ease silencing him, and now as if on que another one of the Chosen started calling out for the missing man.
"Rayback to Grey Reaper we have been engaged!" Casey said as he got up brought his rifle up.
"VOLK! ENGAGE! ENGAGE!" Marcus yelled into the radio. He then signaled to his men in the other trucks to follow him as he turned on only his marker lights and made his way down the steep road leading to the dock.
Dmitri lined up on the Chosen that seemed to be the one that was being consulted the most by the others and aimed for his upper chest before gently squeezing the trigger. He watched half a second later the mans left chest right where his heart was explode in a cloud of red mist.
The Chosen panicked far less than their normal brethren but even they hesitated after loosing their leader and then trying to decide if getting back in their war rigs or finding shelter in one of the Chalets was the better course. Dmitri used this chance to kill another Chosen before the group ran for the Chalets.
Joey and Casey were now back on their feet as they pushed through the bushes and entered the battle as well.
"Joey clear the yard, I'll clear the buildings!" Casey ordered as he charged for the rental office. From across the river the sound of heavy machine gun fire could be heard even over the rain as Marcus and his men started engaging targets where ever possible.
Joey moved up to the Chosen's armored trucks using them as cover to limit the danger of her being hit from the peggies to her left. That still left the bulk of the yard and two of the Chalets for her to deal with.
A peggie leaned out of the front door of the closest Chalet to try and get a shot on Joey but all he managed was to get a pair of half inch holes in his head and chest. The yard was now under fire from Marcus and his men across the river meaning that she could now safely concentrate on clearing the Chalets closest to her.
She kicked in the door to the closest Chalet that originally had the kitchen sink watchman and found four peggies and a Chosen trying to load loose ammo into AR mags.
'Looks like someone failed the weapons inspection.' She thought as she sprayed down the group finishing off her current belt of ammo. With fast practiced movements she swapped out the empty ammo box and loaded a fresh one from the exterior clamp on her backpack. She could still hear the gun fire being traded outside even as she quickly checked the rest of the Chalet making sure that no one had been hiding while she reloaded.
Stepping back out into the rain she saw that Casey and Marcus's group were trading fire with the remaining peggies in the last Chalet on her side of the area. Casey was hold up in the Chalet across the yard as the heavy machine guns of Marcus's trucks sent streams of red tracers across the river even then only barely visible through a heavy rain.
Joey was about to close on the next building when she stumbled over a dead Chosen that Dmitri must have shot at some point. On his belt she saw a frag grenade and a idea quickly formed in her mind as she seized the explosive.
In her training to become a Sheriff's deputy she had only gotten a 3 hour lecture on the use of flash bangs and CS gas grenades and a single training lab with a few live munitions, still she thought how hard could it be? Pull ring, flick the spoon, and throw the grenade away from you.
She ran up to a smashed out window and could see five peggies trading fire with mostly Marcus's group however judging by the sound of their fire they were just spraying into the dark towards the tracers and hoped to hit something. Pulling the pin on the grenade she held the spoon down as she backhanded the grenade into the room and ran for the other Chalet she had just cleared.
The steel egg's landing was covered up by a combination of natures thunder and peggie gunfire. A peggie ducking to avoid some incoming fire even managed to kick the ticking grenade clear into another room that had been turned into a storage room for barrels of Bliss bound for Jacob's region by boat.
Joey had only just gotten in the other Chalet when the grenade detonated. She honestly hadn't known just how big of an explosion to expect but as the blast and pressure wave washed over her and the wall closest to the explosion began to cave in she figured that she had grossly underestimated that single grenade.
Marcus watched as the small fireball quickly dissipate in the storm and knew that they must have hit some Bliss but now he was worried about how the truck stop would react to that fireball.
"Grey Reaper to Black Reaper what's the status of the truck stop? Does it look like they know something has happened down here?" he called over the radio he watched Casey approach the wreckage of the Chalet as if he was looking for something.
Casey looked at the unexpected destruction but the lack of Joey joining him started to worry him as he tried to ID the bodies or the parts at least of the previous occupants.
"JOEY! JOEY! WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called desperately.
He heard nothing but the rain hitting the ground and the cracks of thunder.
'Oh shit this isn't a good start.' He thought until the sound of wood planks being thrown around made him look to the partially destroyed Chalet and the sight of a feminine arm throwing chunks of wood about made him sigh in relief as he raced over to help dig the woman out.
"Hey Casey." Joey said as the cook heaved the last of the rubble off her. "Are grenades supposed to be able to do that?" she then asked as she got up and gestured at the pile of wreckage that was once the neighboring Chalet.
"Well how many did you use?" Casey asked.
"Only one." She replied simply.
Casey shook his head. "Not normally, not unless you happen to also explode something else like bulk ammo, bombs, jet fuel..."
Joey picked up a charred chunk of a plastic barrel. A flash of lighting revealed the dark green plastic and the pinwheel like symbol the cult used to represent Bliss storage.
"Bliss." She said out loud.
"Yeah I guess Bliss would count... oh..." Casey continued until he saw the debris she held. "Well Joey as long as you are more or less uninjured you can walk away with a valuable lesson."
"What's that?" She asked sounding once more like a student.
"You can never have too much distance or hard cover from any explosion. There are other lessons to be learned of course, but give it time otherwise you are liable to not survive a lesson." The cook said as they saw the other Grey's board their boats.
Moments earlier Marcus was waiting for his son to reply.
"Black Reaper to Grey Reaper. Looks like you lucked out big time. Everyone was looking the opposite direction when that explosion happened and the sound probably was written off as thunder. We all need to buy some lottery tickets right about now." Roger said as he moved his scope over each of the four peggies looking for anything out of the ordinary.
"Works for me. Grey Reaper to Volk join us if you would please." Marcus replied as he now watched his men pile into the two zodiacs.
"Already moving Grey Reaper." Dmitri said as he carefully slid down the muddy cliff face quickly taking him close to the dock.
The group crossed the raging river and joined the two infiltrators. A quick count of the dead peggies and Joey's account of attacking the last building came up to 10 Chosen and 8 regular cultists which matched Dmitri's count. One benefit of having fought the peggies there at the Chalets was they were able to take in one piece the Chosen's 'Mini-Revelators' as one of the Grey's dubbed the modified dump trucks. So now instead of having to hoof it up the mountain on foot they could drive in some form of comfort at least for those riding in the cab. Soon the trucks drove down to Audrey's dinner where the dirt road up into the mountains started, the only signs that any vehicles were driving on that road were the yellow marker lights.
Marcus volunteered to man the lead trucks twin .50 cal guns and Joey not really knowing what else to do stood beside him as the other Grey's manned the other guns. The floor of the dump bed was quite simple as it was covered in ammo cans to feed the numerous machine guns with even more cans stacked up making a sort of 'firestep' for the people manning the guns to stand at.
"Brand new production M2 Brownings and government issue gunner protection kits. I swear to God after this is all over I will personally crawl through every damn office in DC looking for the assholes that let this stuff go to the cult." Marcus grumbled.
"I'll be glad to help." Joey added.
Marcus gave a short deep laugh. "I'm sure you and Roger would but I would also expect after all this is done that you guys will be busy dealing with the Sheriff's paperwork for all this, and after that if you get any sort of down time I expect you and Roger to probably be in Hawaii. No doubt visiting the volcanoes more than the beaches knowing you.
Even in the darkness Joey smiled at the comment. "Well I guess you are right to one degree or another. After all a girl can never have too many obsidian samples for the collection or to make jewelery with."
Anymore discussion was cut off as the two trucks reached the top of the road and pulled over to side.
Instantly Marcus was giving orders.
"Joey, go check and clear the Chan residence. If there are peggies there kill them, if they are civilians tell them to sit tight once we are done with our mission we will take them to safety then get back here. Dmitri get on overwatch on the camp. Everyone else get ready to descend the mountain." he said in a clear and firm voice.
Having her task Joey sprinted toward the Chan residence. Jasmine Chan was one of the first murders that drove the Sheriff to start actively maneuvering against the cult. When she had failed to show up to work for two weeks unannounced and all attempts at contacting her failed it was Joey and the Sheriff that went to do a wellness check and found the wrecked interior of her home and the body of Miss Chan literally torn into pieces. If one could ignore the words 'SINNER' literally painted in the blood of the woman then you wouldn't be considered wrong to think that this was just a very serious animal attack.
The case had gone cold because besides a unsent letter thanking the cult for agreeing to speak about the noise of the construction of Joseph's giant statue there was little to no evidence go off of. Time and again the cult would deny even being in contact with her, John even threatened to bring harassment charges against the department after the Sheriff managed to corner Faith Seed outside the General Store in Fall's End. Unfortunately she had a escort consisting of her brother Jacob who wasn't willing to let any form of questioning take place.
A hour later the Sheriff got the call from John about the looming lawsuit if he didn't cease his 'witch hunt'.
The little log house was dark but Joey still approached with caution. Quietly she tried the front door and found it unlocked. She switched on her rifles flashlight and surged into the single room single bathroom house and found it just as she remembered it. Wrecked furniture and long since dried blood on the walls, the words 'SINNER' still clear as day.
Still she saw that there were signs of peggies at least passing through here. A over flowing trash can with a newspaper that was now three weeks old a far cry from the four years since the murder, military surplus MRE wrappers, and a copy of Joseph's fucking word with a note saying 'In case you are in need of hope.'.
The house was empty however and for tonight that was enough. She double timed it back to the trucks and found Marcus waiting patently for her.
"Marcus we're clear but its obvious that the peggies have been using the house to one degree or another." She said as she approached.
Marcus nodded. "We'll have to at least lay a trap or better yet make it a outpost for the Resistance, but for right now we need get in position. Once Roger starts hitting the truck stop we will need to start working our way down the mountain to the camp."
She nodded and looked down at the camp from their current position. The camp had been changed considerably since she last saw it years ago when she and Roger had been hunting in this area. Where there was once numerous cabins was now just fields of Bliss flowers. The mess hall that sat on a small rise overlooking everything and a single cabin remained. Beside the mess hall was their main objective the radio tower.
Looking towards the road leading into the camp the peggies had erected a sort of guard tower that was manned by a single rifleman from what she could see.
'All in all this doesn't look so bad. Fewer buildings to clear mean fewer places for the peggies to pop out of, still that mess hall is pretty big and can probably hold a lot of people. Especially considering they are farming here they have to have a fair amount of labor residing here.' She thought to herself.
Dmitri having had gotten as comfortable as he could in the wet grass looked through his scope. So far he had one man in the guard tower with just a standard AR and a pair of heavy gunners patrolling the grounds armed with M60's. Anyone else would likely be either in the darkened cabin or somewhere in the mess hall that glowed faintly from within.
Marcus confirmed Dmitri's report with his own binoculars and proceeded to kick off the main attack.
"Grey Reaper to Black Reaper you are cleared to engage all available hostiles. Minutemen Leaders wait for the go from Black Reaper before moving in. This is where we make our beachhead boys and girls." Marcus said into his radio before turning to his own men.
"Ok lets get down there and clear out the camp. Dmitri hold fire until we are on site then take out the heavies first, that guy in the watch tower won't be looking at anything but that entrance road probably. Joey, you and Casey will go clear that lone cabin while the rest of us clear the mess hall. If we do this right they won't hear a thing coming."
Back at the grain elevator a somewhat bored Roger grinned evilly as he heard his father's order.
"Ok lets see how this pans out." He said to himself as he took aim at the cultist manning the farthest roof machine gun that faced the east road.
With a familiar push against his shoulder he waited the 1.67 seconds it would take for the round to travel the three-quarters of a mile to impact the man in his upper back. When the round hit the peggie snapped back from the impact and crumpled to the ground, any noise of his fall lost in the sound of the rain fall.
The next roof stationed peggie soon shared in his brothers fate as his chest exploded from being hit with the APIE round.
He watched the two cultists that huddled around the gas pumps as they roamed around not really patrolling but more to try and keep warm against the wind, the first one to stop moving again would be the first one to receive his dose of lead for the night.
It took nearly five minutes for the first man to go sit on the horseshoe shaped barriers that protected the pumps as his friend continued to wonder around aimlessly on the opposite end of the row of pumps.
'Please God don't let me hit the pumps.' He thought as he lined up the shot and sent it. While there was a relatively low chance of setting one of the pumps on fire even if he did hit them with the explosive ammo he was using, hard experience told him to avoid such risks where possible.
Despite his own doubts the round impacted cleanly punching through the mans right arm and detonating inside of his chest turning it into a gory cloud thick mush. His friend then started walking back towards the gas station's front door not even bothering to turn to his friend as he did until he reached the door.
By then Roger had already sent another round racing towards the now shocked and horrified fanatic.
The steel penetrator of the bullet continued its course even after hitting the man and shattered the window to the front door. Roger had expected it as a possibility and waited to see if anyone inside that might be lodging inside the gas station somewhere would wake up from the noise.
Sure enough three peggies lead by a Preacher turned on the lights of the gas station and reacted to the dead man in front the door. It took two men shoving on the door to push their dead friend aside so they could run outside seeing the other mans body by the pumps, this made the Preacher send two of his men up the ladder to the roof of the gas pumps to check on the men there and to man the guns.
The Preacher sent the other man racing for the garage that was tucked in behind the gas station where Roger didn't have a line of sight. With his orders given the Preacher just stayed out in the open looking for some threat or movement in the bushes and grass around the gas station perimeter.
It never once occurred to the man even as another 725 grain projectile found its way into his head, that someone would be shooting from nearly a mile away, at night, from a properly prepared hide, with a suppressed big bore rifle, in the middle of a near biblical thunderstorm.
The two men on top of the gas station roof seemed to have a bit more sense as they crouched behind the sandbags that were apart of the machine gun emplacements. They had also guessed correctly from roughly what direction the fire was coming from.
'Well now this just got a bit more interesting...' He started thinking as the lights in the garage turned on and the main door opened the lights casting a long shadow of what ever it was inside.
The peggie that had been sent there slowly drove his war machine forward relishing in the powerful sound of steel tracks scraping on the pavement. He didn't know who was attacking their outpost especially now in the middle of this storm but 'The Cardinal' as was dubbed by Herald Faith herself would see these attackers off with ease.
Roger had to stop and think about what he was seeing before him. The cult had taken one of the big D8T Caterpillar bulldozers from one of the mines and... Killdozer-ed it for all intents and purposes. They had covered all the windows with steel plates thick enough that even through his scope he knew that there was a real chance that even his Barrett couldn't reliably penetrate them certainly at his current range at least.
For weapons the big yellow Cat had a pair of top of the hood mounted M60's with large ammo hoppers running along the sides of the hood. The driver lowered the dozer blade that had been modified by simply welding on a bunch of sharpened three inch I-beams the length of a mans leg to give the dozer a spiked ramming weapon and revealed a other pair of M60's these mounted to either side of the hood.
Clearly aiming was crude but with four machine guns that was enough suppressive fire that anything that didn't get torn apart would be forced to hide until the dozer got close enough to use its spiked ram on its victim.
'Good thing we didn't just brute force our way in then. That would have wrecked the Resistance trucks in short order.' He thought as he rolled over to Longinus.
When he had first designed the rifle he had only developed the gun and the iron sights as that was all that was really needed for the purpose of destroying hostile improvised fighting vehicles at checkpoints. He of course had picatinny rails for mounting optics but he hadn't touched the issue of developing a optic that could hope to survive the shock and recoil of a 30mm anti-tank round. Now here he was in dire need of a level precision that mechanically the gun could do but the iron sights he had left much to be desired especially at night.
'I need to take that dozer in one piece. Who knows where it might come in handy.' He thought as he adjusted the peep sight for the distance and aimed for the roughly three by three foot square that formed the front window of the dozer when it stopped.
He pulled the trigger and the muzzle blast instantly shredded the black cloth over the window he had been using and then the bright flash followed as a ten foot long tongue of fire followed the slug before fading. The driver must have seen the flash because he started driving again in the direction of the flash, however in a strange twist of fate it only further sealed his demise.
By driving closer the cultist had ensured that instead of the front armored window taking the hit from the round Roger had fired it would now instead hit the unarmored roof of the cab. The solid lead slug easily went through the tissue paper like roof and even managed to miss the driver as it impacted the back of the rear cab armor and caused the solid mass of lead to bulge out the thick steel plate. Given the forces involved it was inevitable that the lead projectile would explode in a cloud of spall that bounced around the cab shredding the driver as if he had dozens of shotguns blasting his entire body at once.
With the dozer at least no longer moving Roger turned the massive rifle to the last two cultists. They had seen his rifles muzzle flash and both of the grabbed a .50 cal each and started firing in his direction, yet for all of their fire the concept of bullet drop appeared to be either lost or at least temporarily forgotten as he could hear the occasional bullet impact from somewhere downstairs.
Still he wasn't going to wait for them to adjust their fire and lined up one of the gunners in his sight and let loose another fireball into the night.
At 6466 grains or 14.7 ounces the lead projectile of the 30mm PGU-15/B TP cartridge was utter overkill in the extreme of extremes when used against a soft target like a unarmored cultist, but even Roger had to admit the sight of the peggies chest virtually disappearing on impact was something he would never forget and nether would his friend. The other man had stopped firing as he watched parts of his brother's body fall with the rain after a considerable hang time, then come to his senses and ran for the ladder instead of continuing to fight.
He lined up another shot right at the top of the ladder and fired even before the man had reached it, however stead of climbing down like he expected the man decided to slide down throwing off his intended chest shot a bit. Even from the grain elevator he could see a headless peggie fall from the ladder to the wet pavement below.
"Black Reaper to Minuteman Leaders. Move in now no other peggie forces appear to be coming out but be sure to check all the buildings once you get there." He called into the radio
Whatever response the Resistance fighters were going to say was lost when his father's voice rang out again across the radio. "VOLK! ENGAGE! ENGAGE!"
On the other side of the mountain things were a different story all together. The terrain acted like a funnel making the winds far more powerful and the rain absolutely blinding at times as the group of fighters descended as carefully as they could manage down a relatively narrow path only wide enough for a single person at the best of times.
In some places the water shedding off the mountainside above them threatened to wash them away but they pushed through it anyway, until disaster struck.
They were almost to the camp and the path started to widen out as they were now walking on more a of a muddy hillside then a rocky mountain when the new wider section of the path broke loose under the weight of Marcus and Joey walking on top of it.
Marcus slid only about ten feet or so before he grabbed on to a sapling growing out of the hill and he made a desperate attempt to catch the falling woman as she fell past him. Their arms met but between the rain and the slick mud on each others bodies meant Joey slipped out of his grasp.
Time seemed to slow Joey could only tuck and hope to roll as best as she could while trying desperately to at least steer herself away from the bigger rocks jutting out of the hill. How she manged to not scream as she fell she would never figure out but finally she came to a stop face first into the dirt at the edge of the Bliss field.
As if her luck couldn't get any worse the two heavies had noted some movement in the darkness and were sharp enough to investigate instead of writing it off as part of the storm. For the second time that night she was on the ground and face to face with now two peggies holding up their machine guns to the angry sky. She had thankfully managed to just hold on to her rifle through the whole ordeal she tightened her grip on it once more and started making a plan.
"Who are you sinner?!" The heavy on her left spoke his voice barely registering through the sound of the storm.
"Wait! I recognize her... she's that Demoness that Herald John captured!" The heavy on her right said with a surprising amount of horror as he began to let his M60 drop into his waiting supporting hand. It was at that moment Joey struck and flicked her gun into full auto while swinging it one handed towards the man on her right, the .50 cal bullets denting and then finding the gaps in the mans crude steel armor as she fired.
The man in his death spasm lost control of his gun and squeezed the trigger causing the gun to torque weirdly as it fired and part of the man's dying burst tore off his friends jaw and left eye causing him to scream in overwhelming pain.
Joey got to her knees and put three rounds into the screaming man silencing him but by now any hope of stealth was now lost as more lights went on in the mess hall and the man in the guard tower launched a white flare over the camp, casting it in bright white phosphorus light that caused strange ever moving shadows everywhere she looked as the flare was tossed about by the high winds.
'Just remember if or when everything does go wrong, act and don't lock up.' She thought to what Marcus said back at the gun shop and all the aches and scrapes no longer bothered her as she refocused herself and snapped her gun up to put the watch tower guard in the middle of her green holographic sight. The range was maybe a bit long from where she was but that's why she used something belt fed as she put out two short well controlled three round bursts hitting the guard in the chest and head putting him down for good.
She looked over to the small cabin and saw it was still dark while the mess hall was now fully lit and half a dozen men were racing out of the front door into the rain and the wind. Without thinking she crouched walked straight through the field of Bliss getting that familiar tingle and little white sparks at the edges of her vision like she had back in the bear cave so long ago now. The six peggies split up in equal groups each being lead by a pair of men dressed in some sort of industrial chemical handling gear worse still they both bore the heretical red cult cross tattooed on their faces.
One group was racing for the dark cabin the other three were coming towards the field to likely sweep it. Joey was about to strike when she heard Marcus on her radio.
"VOLK! ENGAGE! ENGAGE!" He cried and the chemist looking man's chest exploded with the impact of Dmitri's Dragunov but he still stood now pointing his rifle towards the mountainside behind Joey and bidding his men to join him.
She waited for them to almost get their rifles shouldered before rising from the bed of Bliss flowers like a wet mud covered angel of death. The Chemist fell first as she put a burst through his neck and head, and switched targets with the practiced speed and grace of an experienced competition shooter scoring two more head shots.
Still in a adrenaline fueled rampage probably made more intense by the field of Bliss flowers she had walked through she stepped out of the field and swung to address the other three men who had almost reached the dark cabin. Even as she poured fire in their direction these guys had the basic sense to zig zag enough to bother her aim but now from the edge of her vision she saw Marcus and company bringing their own guns to bear and judging from how one peggies head exploded Dmitri was making himself known as well. Still she fired into the last Chemist as his Bliss hardened body let him soak up the dozens of high caliber rounds impacting him until he had thrown door bolt on the dark cabin and opened it before falling dead.
There was a moment of quiet save for the weather. Joey still felt ill at ease and moved to reload her rifle when she hear a sub human growl come from the cabin. Like something out of a zombie film at least two dozen or more white scrub garbed and masked... 'people' came out of the small cabin like it was a demented clown car, each one to a man or in some cases woman shaved bald and armed with all manner of farming tool and charging for her.
She barely had time to finish loading the next belt and was finally ready when they were about 15 feet way from her, she slowly walked back buying her precious time as she plugged away at the seemingly possessed mass of snarling bodies. Even with more fire coming from the Grey's and Dmitri their numbers weren't thinned much, even those whose legs had been shot out from under them still crawled undaunted towards her. Her gun clicked empty and she instantly transitioned to her shotgun, that adrenaline fueled rush now seemingly doubled as she did.
Again and again she found peggie heads in her sight and each head she shredded was a peggie that didn't get back up. Ten rounds and ten heads taken she ran dry, yet even as she knew that she should be feeling at least somewhat panicked she wasn't. She just calmly and smoothly drew her large bowie knife a Becker Combat Bowie that Roger had gotten her for her 16th birthday years ago in one hand and her 1911 in the other.
She still was walking backwards towards the mess hall as she double tapped every zombie peggie that continued their single minded drive to reach her until the gun ran dry. She holstered the gun and was about charge the last half dozen when Marcus and Casey came rushing toward the group from behind each armed with a tomahawk and butcher's cleaver respectively drawing some of them off of her.
The first zombie that came at her was was armed with a fighting knife that looked like a Ka-Bar but the zombie could only wildly slash without even the glimmer of skill or intent beyond killing her, so when the zombie slashed at her next she grabbed its knife hand and stepped into her attacker driving the full nine inches of her knife through the left lung and heart from the side.
She would have then pulled back to try and drive another strike closer to the neck when the second zombie still trying to engage her hit his comrade in the back of the head with a shovel forcing both her and the still struggling zombie on to the ground.
She knew she was in trouble now as the zombie on top of her fought to free its knife arm from her grip and then resorted to start slamming its chin into her forehead, meanwhile the shovel welding zombie simply kept slamming the shovel against its partner in a effort to some how reach her.
She tried to pushed the zombie off her at the right moment to avoid a shovel blow but the struggling zombie was so pumped up on Bliss it was too strong for her to get the leverage needed to anything but stay there and use him as a shield against the shoveler.
She saw the bright lights of a vehicle pulling up but it was a minor concern for her at the moment as the zombie's mask started to slip exposing her to the risk of having her throat ripped out. Then she heard the heavy sound of boots racing through mud and the shoveler was tackled by something much bigger than it.
Then the zombie that was on her was violently jerked off her still trying to get a slash at her when its knife arm got freed from her grasp.
A bolt of lightning cracked the sky and revealed what the headlight had already shown her, Roger was now on the field.
The shovel zombie was recovering so she tightened her grip on her knife and shot up not paying Roger any mind yet and ducked a wide swing of the shovel and drove her knife into the zombie's head a few times then slashing it across the neck and kicking it to the ground.
Turning back Roger had the zombie in a headlock and with a roar of effort ripped the zombie's head off. It was at that moment the torrential rains ceased like God had flicked a switch and the remaining strong winds were quickly clearing the sky above them noting that it was beginning to glow with the coming sunrise.
Marcus and Casey where chopping off the last of their respective zombie heads off.
Roger turned to her. "You mostly ok Joey?" He asked with a touch of worry.
She sighed and looked around for her hat that had fallen off during the struggle before donning it once more and answered.
"Yeah. A few minor nicks and bumps but yeah I'm ok. Long night you know?" She said tiredly.
Roger nodded and knew at exactly what she meant.
"Do your missions go to shit this badly often?" She then asked.
Casey was the one to answer. "Most missions go wrong, its just a matter of how wrong they go. Is it a minor thing like someone not loading up on enough MRE's for the mission, or screwing up a weather report, or is more serious like air dropping vehicles that you need but their chutes fail and you get a wreck instead, and that's only after the mission actually starts!"
"Wait until you experience some suit 6,000 miles away tell you as you are just walking on board your chopper that the mission profile has radically changed and still needs to happen as scheduled or more often much much sooner than planed and to top it all off you have the completely wrong load out for it." Marcus grumbled as he wiped his tomahawk on a dead zombie's clothes.
She turned to Roger. "Seriously?"
"Afraid so my dear Joey, afraid so." He replied as he put a arm around her.
"And I thought Marshal Burke was bad." She said tiredly as she rubbed her forehead where the zombie had been trying to chin her to death.
"Oh he was bad." Roger harrumphed before continuing. "Your name in the papers." He mocked Burke's voice.
That memory broke the tension and the both had a short decent laugh.
"Well jokes aside lets get the radio tower powered up before someone else comes to visit." Marcus ordered looking at the surrounding area just to make sure there wasn't some loose peggie watching them from above.
"I'll do it." Roger said but as he took his first step Joey grabbed the back of his armor.
"No Roger, my task, my responsibility." She said with a mocking sternness.
With a slight bow and gesturing of his arms Joey walked towards the empty mess hall and the radio tower that lay beyond picking up her long guns and reloading them as she walked tiredly but steadily.
A ghillied up Dmitri now joined the other four men as the rest of the Grey's went through the dead making sure they were all indeed dead. They watched Joey start her climb up the radio tower in silence until Dmitri broke it. "She is a strong, beautiful, and resilient woman... I can see why you love her Roger."
Roger's face felt a little warm but that did little to wipe the shit eating grin off his face. "Yeah I know how to pick them or at least make myself tolerable enough for her tastes. That said don't try pulling a Rosenberg on her. If she doesn't kill you, I will."
The light threat got a laugh out of everyone there just as Joey reached the top and threw the switch there. Instantly all of their radios lit up. "This is Virgil Minker at the Hope County Jail... we need help! I repeat we need help! The peggies are trying to break down the gate! If there is anyone nearby hurry, I don't know how much longer we have."
Joey must have found a zip line clamp as she raced down one of the supporting guy lines.
"Well you heard the man. They need help." Joey said to the gathered men as she landed.
Roger was the first to answer. "And Rohan will answer."
She grinned at the quote and readied her shotgun.
"You guys go ahead we will go grab those 'Mini-Revelators' and use them to bring some pain to the cult. Now go and be the 'Heralds of Destruction' for Faith's forces!" Marcus said in a bombastic tone.
Joey and Roger sprinted to his truck and were quickly racing down the road towards the Hope County Jail.
At the jail Sheriff Earl Whitehorse was really wishing he could be anywhere else right about now. The peggies started another attack shortly after the storm passed and they were really throwing some manpower around this time trying to break through the gate and climb over the walls.
'The first moment we get to pull those wrecked cars the peggies are using to scale the wall it will do wonders for our security.' He thought as he stood up and took aim at a peggie rifleman hiding behind a highway divider with his .44 magnum.
Honestly they needed more time than they had to clean up around the jail. Cut away the trees from around the fort as it were. The perimeter was lined with the burned and shot out husks of peggie gun trucks which provided cover for the next wave of forces, the cult was even taking the bodies of their dead to use as cover to get them closer to the main gate.
The defenders hadn't taken many casualties or at least serious ones but every person lost on the wall was one less gun pointed at the cult. The numbers were looking increasingly bleak unless they got a miracle like the military showing up.
Just then as the sun broke over the mountains and cast the whole area in a warm gentle glow from the main road came a sight that he couldn't believe was really roaring down the road.
A massive black 6x6 smashed its way past the peggie roadblock with ease until it came to stop right behind cults defensive line. From the cab came the closest thing to real live angels he had ever seen in his life.
Roger Rook and Joey Hudson jumping out of the cab and firing on the peggies rears without remorse or mercy offered. The muted crack of Roger's HCAR and the roar of Joey's shotgun quickly slaughtering the remaining cultists ending the most recent attack on the jail.
The Sheriff rushed down off the wall and unlocked the personnel door in the main gate.
Joey was the first to see the Sheriff and jogged up to him hugging the old family friend tightly. Roger followed along shortly.
"My god Joey... I saw you with John on the TV and then I only saw Rook afterwards with John's body. I was afraid you didn't make it!" The Sheriff said looking at the fully armed and armored deputy in front of him as if he was still unsure if it was real.
"Roger busted me out after he too got captured. Long story short it was his plan all along." Joey replied on the brink of tears of seeing her friend in one piece.
"I'll be more then happy to tell you about it or write up a formal report later. For now I heard on the radio that you seem to need another 'Big Stick'?" Roger said smiling widely.
"You bet your ass I do. Faith has been hitting us hard to the point we can't make any strikes back, radio has been spotty was well so anyone outside of the jail is stuck doing random hit and run attacks against the cult instead of taking ground. Now that you are here I have some real hope that maybe we can win." He said tiredly but happily.