Five days.
It had been five days since Avery had arrived in Whitetail Mountains and already, she was nursing a laceration on her left forearm, had a steep increase in lack of sleep, and running low on ammo. Her initial entrance into the region started as any other. Peggies on the road, some passing by, not recognizing her, while one group occasionally would, and a fight would begin.
Then the nights came, and the cooler temperatures and lack of shelter-coupled with being in unfamiliar territory—resulted in intermittent slumber. The ridges of the mountain spines welcomed strong gusts to ruffle the tree canopies, snapping branches and promoting creaks to awake the shadows around her. The false safety of sleeping in the truck did little to ease her worries. Paranoia played games on her mind, trying to distinguish natural sounds from enemy lurking. And when the sun disappeared over the crags, the world fell into darkness especially under the forest where the light from the evening sky didn't penetrate the branches. As such, it made all the shadows seem more alive to the Deputy. If lack of sleep wasn't enough, the wildlife around was sufficient to make her second guess if she was safe or in danger. Having Boomer by her side helped to distinguish between these; whether he remained silent, or a warning growl reverberated in his throat.
Sleepless nights aside, it was day three that Avery was introduced to the Judges.
Not only did Jacob have Peggies and hunters—which Dutch expressed were not to be confronted at any cost- but he had wolves that were trained to attack on command. When she encountered a group of enemies in an opening on a hill side, the Peggies shouldered their rifles and spread out to counter her advances, as she expected.
Then the wolves came.
Momentarily, she had frozen in her attack. Her brain sputtered, trying to determine why the wolves would act out of character and enter a fight between humans, until she realized the Peggies were their handlers. The hesitation cost her when a wolf latched onto her arm, twisting its head back and forth before she managed to put a few bullets into it. Boomer was no match for the wolves, and she feared taking him out with her when she explored a new area after that confrontation. He wanted to assist, and he occasionally would get the chance to take down a few Peggies. Some help was better than no help. But risking the small canine against his larger, ancestry cousins was not a gamble she was willing to play.
Three damn days and she was exhausted and feeling overwhelmed. The following two did little to improve her situation.
The steep ridges, dense forests, and overall wild terrain was a challenge to navigate. Any beauty it held was overshadowed by her disdain for hiking through it with a heavy pack on her shoulders and limited sleep. She would drive as far as she could to a location, get out, search and hope to find resources or clues as to where Jacob's compound was. When she determined she searched a section in its entirely, or if night was approaching, she would turn back and hike to the safety of the truck with Boomer in tow. They were averaging 10-15 miles a day through the wilderness, always ending it with exhaustion heavy in their bones and added resources found through the trek. But they were no closer to finding Jacob's compound.
Regrettably, Dutch had no aid to give on the matter. Only the locals in the mountain range knew the area enough to have an idea of the compound's general location. The best Dutch could offer was to get in contact with a man called Eli.
That was easier said than done because the man was apparently a recluse.
"I'm sorry, kid. I reached out and let him know about your arrival. He'll make contact when he's ready," Dutch explained apologetically.
Apparently, when Eli "was ready" referred to when he thought she was worth his time and trust.
Leaving her with minimal options, Avery decided to continue combing through the region, gathering meager supplies for her and Boomer and occasionally making public contacts with locals.
Larger towns were not common in the region, instead being little communities with a gas station and possible family-owned grocery shop, but even that was hard to come across. Most people in the area fished or hunt for their food, a common hobby turned into a routine errand like a grocery trip. The deputy would have to go deeper to find more resources than the outer rim of the region.
Forest Service roads made travel difficult. The gravel paths were riddled with potholes and crevices from snow melt and heavy rain. At one point, a large, jagged rock jutted from the surface of the road, slicing one of the sidewalls of the truck's tire. Cursing, Avery dropped her forehead to the steering wheel and shut off the engine. Boomer cocked his head from the passenger seat, wondering what caused her to look so defeated.
After replacing the damaged tire with the spare, which took significantly longer given the damage to her arm, Avery continued her journey and managed to get to their destination.
On the fourth day, the pickup truck came to a stop on a particularly rough road when air whistled loud enough for Avery to hear in the cab. Getting out, she was disheartened to find a sharp rock punctured a hole in the passenger tire. Without a spare or a patch kit, the pair were forced to abandon the truck, and gather all the supplies to hike on with. Leaving the vehicle behind was more bitter than she imagined. It was the longest she kept a vehicle since she arrived, been the perfect metal steed to aid her escape from John, and deliver her to Whitetail Mountains. It shielded her from bullets and provided shelter for her and Boomer.
"Sorry for this. Someone will bring a new tire and you'll be moving again soon," she reassured, patting the bullet punctured fender.
She was being ridiculous; talking to a vehicle as if it understood her, or alive for that matter. Maybe she was starting to lose it. Being on her own, fighting cult members, going through a series of Bliss trips, adrenaline injections, interrogated, injured… It had to take its toll somehow. Perhaps her mental capacity was just starting to slip as a result of all the stress. She wanted to believe it was just her coping with the loneliness and vulnerability she felt.
Despite having to leave her surprisingly cherished truck, they walked on until a fence came into view along the road. The posts were round sections of trees, notched and bolted together in true Montana fashion. Avery found it charming to the landscape, reminding her of an old ranch pasture.
But fences meant property and property was a toss-up between ally or foe. Shouldering her rifle with heighted awareness, she continued with Boomer at her heels, scanning the landscape for movements hinting to an ambush. Over the horizon, the makings of a large structure came into view with a broad open deck wrapping around.
Avery picked some cover that fit her and Boomer behind. Peeking through the shrub and fence poles, the deputy could make out flowerpots on the corner of what looked like a large home with white windows and chipped, green-stained trim. Flowerpots were a good sign. She had yet to meet a botanist peggy.
"What do you say, Boomer? Think it's safe?" she had questioned her four-legged companion. He answered with a lazy wag of his tail and soft panting.
After watching the property for 20 minutes and only seeing a man sitting in his rocking chair, she deemed it safe enough to enter. Once she was in eyesight, the man waved in greeting, immediately knowing she was not a threat. She offered a half-eager wave in return and closed the distance between the road and his porch.
He was an older man, likely in his 40's or 50's, with a fishing vest over a t-shirt and faded canvas pants. A rifle rested over his lap, looking like a higher caliber than her own. Behind him on the house was an American flag and table littered with "Vote HURK State Senate".
"Hey, you're that sum bitch Dutch was goin' on about," was his immediate greeting.
She felt her face fall to annoyance at the blunt reception, but if he noticed, he never showed.
"Are you a registered voter? Oh, hell, it doesn't matter anyway," he continued before verifying if she was indeed the Deputy.
After confirming it, she had hoped for him to offer her shelter or supplies. Perhaps, some much needed ammo that was likely hiding in the dark-green cases beneath that table…
Instead, her attention was… uniquely pointed into the direction of the man's "loin fruit" son, Hurk Jr. If that wasn't enough, he continued to rant about politics and how he did her a favor by not shooting her while she was on his property. It was his rights after all.
The nerve of this man—he waved me onto his land, she remembered pondering heatedly.
She was then convinced to help Hurk Jr. collect a vehicle that was taken by the cult, though she did successfully haggle some ammunition and an extra gun from the senior.
When she met Hurk Jr., she was relieved he wasn't as boorish as his father. He was still strange and spoke what was on his mind, but respectful, nonetheless. He wore a dark bandana around his head, fingerless gloves and red tank top that screamed America with a man and eagle printed on it. If that wasn't enough, he wore American flag pajama pants and boots to complete his outfit. She decided after the first few minutes that she liked him, if only because he was a personality that broke the monotony of her days. Whether he was someone she could spend an extended amount of time within his presence was not likely. It seemed he would be tolerable in small dosages. Either way, she jumped into his…. Was that a Honda civic?
Was she about to go into her first real battle against one of Jacob's trained units in a beat-up sedan?
Talk about unpredictable.
She was certain it would leave an impression on the elder Seed brother.
The car handled the gravel roads well despite having minimal clearance. There were a few times the vehicle bottomed out causing a cringe-worthy grinding of metal grating over stone, but Hurk didn't bat an eye and continued driving. Eventually, her, Boomer, and Hurk arrived at the fire lookout tower with a prime view of a lake down in what she figured was close to 500 feet in elevation lower than they were.
"That's too far to shoot. Even if I had a prime sniper rifle, there's no way I'll make a shot land," she explained as they peered over the decking of the tower.
"It's all about ziplining, man," Hurk explained, shouldering a missile launcher over his shoulder. "We'll zipline down to sneak up on them."
Avery frowned, thinking he was joking until he stepped up to, well a zipline behind her.
"Er, I'm not sure if that's the best—"
"It'll be fine! Trust me!"
Keeping the fact that she did not trust him one bit, she tried to persuade him to sneak down another way. But he wouldn't listen.
"It's the fastest way—we got this! They won't see it comin'."
Time was a factor that she couldn't argue against.
Giving in, she pulled out a makeshift canvas sack she made for Boomer during her restless nights. The sack was cut open length wise with two large straps sewn on messily-but durable, nonetheless. It resembled an open duffel bag aside from the four holes at bottom. Kneeling down beside Boomer, she put his legs through the holes before petting him with reassurances that he would be alright. It wasn't the best product, and she would have preferred the authentic carrier she used with her K-9, Tango, during repelling. But the canvas sack still served its purpose.
He wasn't too certain about being picked up with the bag, straps slung across her chest with him hanging at her back. As she stepped to the zipline behind Hurk, Boomer began to squirm, deciding he didn't like the idea any longer.
After calming him down, she committed to the makeshift plan and began her decent. The first zipline, Boomer flinched and tried to twist free, making Avery swing from side to side before gaining control. The following few levels were controlled with the canine giving in reluctantly. Once they landed on the final platform, the Deputy hurriedly knelt down, shrugging the straps off her and freeing Boomer as bullets began flying. Hurk started with covering her until both her and Boomer were free. Instantly, the canine attacked one Peggy as Avery shot down a second.
"There it is!" Hurk darted off without proper cover or affirmation she heard.
Cursing, she followed after him toward the loudly painted Jeep, sending bullets down range to force the shooters under cover. By the time her and Boomer made it to the vehicle, Hurk was already in the driver's seat talking about opening a can of whoop ass on the Peggies.
Avery, meanwhile, was panting as she pulled herself into the turret with Boomer jumping into the back seat. How did they have all these military weapons? Was it from robbing the National Guard or something?
After taking off, she wasn't surprised to find Peggies in pursuit. Spinning the turret around, she released a string of bullets cutting through the few who thought it was smart to follow on ATVs. The small rigs flipped over after being shot, the men sent flying. Then the remaining Peggies became smarter.
The sound of deep, patterned thudding—all too familiar—reached her ears. Instantly, her eyes lifted to the sky seeing the first real effort in retaliation from the enemy. The helicopter titled to the left, dodging a taller tree on the side of the road before lining up to take a shot at the Jeep. But the turret was heaved back, lowering her weight to her heels as the barrels leveled to the sky and metal bird closing in.
A triumphant smile pulled at her lips, the distant orders from Hurk to shoot being muted in the moment as wind whipped at her hair wildly and her fingers hit the trigger. The Brrrrt of ammunition leaving the weapon blended with the thumping of the helicopter blades, each sound almost harmonizing off the other.
A hit. Multiple hits.
The helicopter spun, black smoke billowing and dispersing from the rotors until the bird crashed, sending dirt and grass into a wave.
That was a new experience.
After successfully evading any other forces, the trio pulled up to the Hurks' residence. Leaping out of the vehicle, Avery pulled her pack out of the Jeep prior to being called to talk to Hurk Sr. She expected him to be grateful for helping but was not prepared for a job offer to be his campaign manager.
Was he aware that there was basically a war occurring in the county? She highly doubted that voting for Senate would be taking place during a time like that. But she didn't have the heart to tell him. He may have left a bad taste in her mouth after his impolite behavior however he needed something to hold onto. That was clear and she wouldn't be the one to squash his dreams.
Agreeing to help however needed, she bid her farewell to the father and son, wishing them good luck and saying they would probably meet in the future.
At the end of that adventure, she was sore, exhausted, and smelled of gunpowder over the linger stench of dirt and sweat. The Deputy desperately wanted to ask for a bath but thought better on it. She wasn't sure what other conversations the family conducted besides politics and Monkey Kings. She wasn't keen on finding out.
Locating shelter that evening consisted of her and Boomer discovering a small utility shed near a powerline. Busting the door open was a little difficult but the reward was a dark building with four walls and hidden from forest threats. Using her flashlight to examine the small space, she was rewarded with metal electrical panels, humming with tamed lightning coursing through its wires. Using her boot, she cleared away some cobwebs in the corners and set her bag down.
Adjusting the light up to stand on the handle, it illuminated the entire area, giving her view of her pack as she pulled out food rations for her and Boomer. Her cooking stove was nearly out of propane, so she made a mental note to search for a refill canister in the next day or two.
After having a warm meal, Boomer lay next to her as she used her bag as a pillow, her rifle as a blanket. Shutting the light out, they were washed in darkness, and both managed to fall into the first decent night of sleep that week.
Day five came quickly, seeming like she had just fallen asleep moments before. After brushing her teeth, fixing a meal consisting of oatmeal and jerky, the pair packed up and started their day.
Shortly after cresting a steep hill, a radio call came in from Dutch. Apparently, something happened to his niece, and he trusted Avery to check on her at the Baron Lumber Mill.
Seemed simple enough and it wasn't too far from where she was located. It helped that she was eager to meet a relative to the man who had helped her out so much during her time there.
By midafternoon, Avery and Boomer had reached the Lumber Mill tucked between hilly terrain. One of the closest buildings hosted a bright red banner with white lettering strung above a black, graffitied cross. Dread settled hard in her stomach, and she instantly became vigilant about her surroundings.
Dutch hadn't mentioned it was an outpost, then again, he may not have known. It must have been a new change in hands because there was no way he would send her in unprepared with to enemy territory. Not only that, but she couldn't imagine him going an extended amount of time without contacting his family to check in with them.
Avery had a bad feeling about it. If the Lumber Mill was cult territory, then that didn't bode well for Jess Black, Dutch's niece.
She had to see for herself.
Not having time to scout, she opted for Boomer's assistance. It was a risk; stepping into an enemy's boundary without a clue of what to expect or number of hostiles.
But she did see some familiar green lights flashing. Alarms.
With a few outposts under her belt already giving her a push of confidence, she made her way in.
The speakers were playing, she noted as she got closer. The usual voice of John and Joseph were replaced by one that seemed foreign.
"The Persians, the Romans, the Mongols, the Babylonians. All of them-gone. But what have we learned? Empires always crumble…" The voice was deliberate, natural and smooth, whereas John's was dramatic with pitches and lows; Joseph's a forced calm and overly kind as if talking to something precious and soft.
Jacob's voice continued to philosophize empires, corruption, and weakness. It didn't feel rehearsed, but instead reminiscent of a general rallying the troops to charge into battle.
A natural leader.
Dangerous.
As Avery snuck through the Lumber Mill, the warnings whispered in the back of her mind. What sort of loyalty did he persuade from his followers with abilities like that? Joseph had Peggies' attention with devotion of a new world. Faith had bliss. John had the philosophy of transformation.
She recalled walking through the main structure of the mill, first through the kitchen and breakroom, then lockers and bathroom. The empty hallways and ghosts of employees brought back a world she had forgotten about. In another state, there was a mill like this one that was still bustling with life and work. But here, it was a lost memory.
It was haunting.
Instead, signs were hung up. Propaganda and wanted posters of resistance fighters she had not met yet. One particular sign was next to a soda machine, printed with crimson ink and a photo of a man with unruly hair and unkept beard. Eli Palmer.
So, this was the man she was supposed to meet. She made sure to memorize his features, the creases below his eyes, pronounced cheekbones. If she was lucky, she could find him instead of waiting for him to meet her.
After taking out an alarm and few Peggies stealthily, one happened to get lucky and sneak up behind her. A butt of a rifle slammed into the back of her head, knees giving out instantly and ground raising up to meet her. Boomer was on the attacker before she fully hit the floor.
Everything was a haze, black spots clouded her vision and the world remained on its side.
More shouting reached her ears and she struggled to get to her hands and knees. Boomer just finished the peggy and licked her face, no doubt trying to make sure she was alright. The gesture was appreciated but she could feel blood from his mouth smear on her cheek. As she stood to her feet, she tried to shake the dizziness as a couple more enemy climbed the stairs to meet her.
The rifle came up and each were pierced by lead.
"Reinforcements are on their way!" her radio yelled as an alarm blaring awakened the compound.
Everything after that was a scramble. A mad dash through the yard. Enemy were appearing along roofs, through doors, down ladders.
And how did some of these men get armored so quickly?
Bullets rained at her from multiple directions, forcing the pair to jump off a catwalk to a hard gravel pile. Both rolled from the unstable ground and Avery felt her hand and wrist get cut by the sharp edges of rocks.
They sprinted toward a wall for cover, shoulder hitting the metal sheeting harshly. She took out a few others from a distance, then moved to a new location. A peggy circled around behind, hoping to get a drop on her, but Boomer was prepared. The process repeated until she came around one corner only to meet a wooden bat to the chest. She fell back hard and, once more, Boomer was lunging at the man.
In took minutes, not seconds, for air to fully return to her lungs normally. Despite the major inconvenience, she managed to take out the rest of the Peggies and last alarm.
The outpost was a hard victory, and she was suffering from the hasty entrance. Poor Boomer's paws were cut up from the jump into the gravel and broken glass. Once the prisoners were released and she reported to Dutch that she found his niece, she started to pull medical supplies out for her companion.
"Nice work, Deputy. You got real heart. I can't believe they were keeping people locked up here, waiting for their indoctrination… Thanks for springing Jess. That niece of mine is as tough as nails but has a knack for trouble. If you can check up on her, I'd appreciate it. "
Of course, she had planned on it after pulling the glass from Boomer's paws, however Jess showed up to her little spot along the fence.
After a brief introduction and explanation on other happenings that the cult was up to, she said her farewell and thanks, promising that she would need the Deputy's help in the future.
Avery didn't mind Jess so much. Tough as nails was apparent in her tom-boy demeanor and scars across her face. The Deputy felt sympathetic for the woman, but not necessarily pity. She had a feeling that Jess would be offended for such an emotion.
After more resistance members arrived to reestablish the Lumber Mill and tended to the wounded, she was offered a place to stay and warm food.
Not passing on luxuries, she excepted and was gifted a spacious storage room all to herself and Boomer. One of the fighters even pulled in a cot for her so she wasn't on the ground.
Talk about 5 stars, she had teased to herself, grateful for the accommodations.
After getting settled in and finding a shower, Avery sat on the cot with the storage door open. Boomer chewing on a branch he found and brought back with him while she cleaned her pistol. She frowned at the chips of wood he spat out between chews, knowing that she would have to clean it before leaving. She thought about complaining to him and have him stop but chose to ignore it to focus on cleaning her gun. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, a knock interrupted their progress. A member of the resistance held a tray of food and a bowl of rice and meat for Boomer.
Avery took the dinner gratefully and was invited to come into the breakroom to meet with the others. She offered an apologetic smile and explained she was going to turn in early that night, but appreciated the food, nonetheless. The member looked disheartened but nodded before leaving them to eat their meal.
A small wave of guilt started to form for not socializing with the others. She knew talking to the resistance would offer new contacts and encourage them to trust her, but the Deputy was exhausted. Avery shoved the guilt down, telling herself that she needed to take care of herself and not spread herself thin. She could socialize when she got Staci back.
But having the locals help could quicken the process of getting Staci, a logically voice reminded.
As true as that was, her body ached, she was tired and hungry, and just needed to reset.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she would make a point to talk to them.
"I still don't see why we both had to come here. I could've told him myself. Or you tell him yourself… Either way," protested the brawny brunet walking beside his boss after parking the truck.
"I'm impressed," Jacob commented dismissively, shifting the sizable bag over this left shoulder, "you're still complaining after more than 20 minutes of driving. I figured you'd have tired yourself out by now."
"My stamina's better than that," Carter quipped, a scowl firmly etched.
"Yeah, I realize that now."
Both men made their way past a few cages outside the modest compound. It was an old fire station for wilderness fire response crews, surrounded by a chain link fence. The front of the property held two rows of prisons with captured resistance fighters inside, taking up the old parking spots: an addition from after the entrance of the Seeds.
Some caged inhabitants coward at the back of the bars, others stood at the sight of his arrival, and few were ballsy enough to shoot him a glare. The latter were the newest of the rotation and did not have a reason to fear their situation outside of rumors. That would change very soon.
Neither Jacob nor Carter paid them any more attention than a glimpse. The detainees' value was not yet determined, their future uncertain. Anything more than a glimpse was investing more than was necessary in the poor souls.
"Maybe if you'd just answer me, I wouldn't keep bringing it up," Carter persisted.
"And I already told you that you'll find out why when we get here," Jacob hastened his pace over the stairs to the entrance of the station, taking two steps at a time. Carter followed, casually placing his boots on every single step.
Jacob frowned at the top as he watched his friend, waiting for the brooding man to catch up. "Will you stop sulking? It's not like you had anything else going on today."
Impatient, Jacob turned around to open the doors of the old fire station and sauntered in.
"It was my day off. That's kind of the point is to not do anything."
"That's how you get lazy and bored, my friend. I'm just looking out for your interests."
Carter scoffed and rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Bullshit."
Jacob chuckled, not bothered by the blunt opinion of his right-hand man.
Before either could drag out another passive insult, a woman approached from the hallway on the left of the front desk. She wore the usual long sleeve shirt with Eden's cross painted on the front fabric. Cargo pants clung to her curves, and she had a holster on either thigh with a pair of .40 caliber pistols. Her honey blonde locks hung in waves over her left shoulder adding to her heart-shaped face and overall attraction.
"Brother Jacob." She offered a deep nod and friendly smile. "And Brother Carter, welcome. I was told to bring you to Myles. He's in his office, upstairs."
She spun on her heels; sun-kissed locks being lifted by the air then cascading over her back.
Carter glanced to Jacob, noticing his smirk. That only added to his irritation. Obviously, the soldier found it amusing to drag Carter around without an explanation. And what was worse, Jacob knew how much Carter hated people trying to kiss the soldier's ass, as he put it.
Instead of making a comment, they trailed behind the woman down the hall and toward the garage.
The front lobby of the station was small, only offering the grey laminate counter with a few separate wooden desks behind for reception and calls. White tile covered the floors, dusty from not being cleaned and dried leaves huddled in the corners against the walls. The hallway offered access to a supply room, bathroom, and breakroom. At the end was a metal door with tempered glass window, a view of an old seafoam fire engine just on the other side. As the three entered the spacious service department, Jacob allowed a quick scan of the facilities, seeing a few of the Project's trucks inside for maintenance.
Tools and fuel containers were stored away neatly, some chainsaws were stowed up on a shelf with ladders leaned next to it. Three large bay doors allowed natural light to filter in and the walls were painted a minty green: typical theme for wildland fire crews instead of the vibrant red. The air had a faint sweetness to it that Jacob recognized as coolant, likely from one of the trucks having a radiator leak.
Bullets and engine components didn't go well together.
To the left of the vehicles, a set of stairs led to the second floor. The blonde woman was already a few steps ahead of them by the time he finished assessing the upkeep of the building. Any eagerness Jacob had upon entering the station was withheld as he used each step provided.
The second floor was larger than the first. There was a kitchen, conference room, a few offices, a bathroom with showers, and bunk rooms. Most of the original furniture was removed and the use of the rooms changed to something more suitable to indoctrinate people to Eden's Gate.
The woman came to a stop at another door with glass on the upper half. Gold letters announcing the office of a fire chief was peeled and chipped on the center of the glass, hardly legible. Not that it mattered. The fire chief was long gone by now.
Opening the door, their escort stepped aside for Jacob and Carter to enter.
"Hello Myles, I have Brother Jacob here to see you."
"Thanks, Kimberly."
The man, Myles, stood from his chair at the desk and hurried to the front. Jacob and Carter stepped to the center of the room, waiting for the woman to leave.
She took the hint and offered another sweet smile to Jacob before closing the door behind her. Carter snorted, finding it annoyingly obvious that the woman was trying to be sly.
Myles shuffled closer, wiping a hand on the front of his jeans before offering it to Jacob. The soldier dropped his gaze to the clammy palm but kept his free hand by his side as response. Chuckling timidly, Myles let his rejected offer fall.
"I hope your drive here was smooth, sir."
Carter wasn't too familiar with Myles. He'd only seen him in a handful of meetings prior when those in charge of outposts reported to Jacob of their biweekly events. He tried to avoid those discussions any chance he got, never having the patience to listen to the same stuff or people trying to ease their way into Jacob's good graces. Regardless, Carter knew enough about a few of the heads of compounds to recognize Myles.
He had olive complexion and dark beard that was neatly trimmed. The man was taller than himself and leaner built. He looked like he would have performed in track when he was younger or go running as a hobby.
Carter hated running.
"It was fine." Jacob answered, stepping around the startled man. "I came to discuss an important task I have for you."
"Oh, yeah—sure. What do I need to do?"
Jacob turned around and leaned against the front of the desk, kicking one leg over the other so they were crossed at the ankles. His bag dropped to the floor by his boots in a heavy thud.
Carter moved to a leather chair in front of him and plopped down lazily. An elbow settled on the arm rest to allow his cheek to lean on his knuckles.
Myles sidled closer to his guests, choosing to stand near the second chair, not taking a seat.
"First, how have the prisoners' processing been? Everything going smoothly?"
"Er, yes. I haven't had any setbacks."
"How many cells do you have available?"
"I don't at the moment."
"Can you combine some people to make one available?"
"Certainly, sir. When do you need it by?"
Jacob could feel Carter's questioning attention but didn't address it right away. He was too busy considering his options, mulling over whether what he had planned would be the ideal choice before bringing it to the table. Once he explained it out loud to a follower, he couldn't take it back, or he'd risk people seeing it as losing ground. Especially, if the Deputy was involved.
Carter was a different story, though. As his best friend, Jacob found him to be a good backboard for ideas when he was needing another opinion. The current topic would be worth Carter's valuation but bringing it up left room for him to disapprove of. And given the brooding mood he was in that morning, Jacob decided to drag it out instead, finding amusement in it regardless.
"Soon." Jacob scratched the side of his jaw, pulling together a few thoughts before forming them to words. "Do you have enough men to be put on watch for an extended amount of time, or will you need more manning sent over?"
"I have men staying guard through all hours and more to spare on off shifts," Myles explained tentatively, not certain what Jacob was needing exactly.
Luckily, the soldier offered more details to the task.
"Right. I want everything performed to the letter, understand? I'll have a prisoner arrive here soon and I need her to be under guard for all hours of the day, extending over multiple days," Jacob paused and raised a brow to the man who nodded. "You should be writing this down."
"Oh-sorry, sir." Myles stepped to the desk, grabbing a notebook and pen before scurrying back to his spot in front of his boss.
Jacob didn't miss how Myles gave him a wide berth to reach his pad of paper.
"Have guards -24 hours- over multiple days," Myles repeated as he wrote it down.
Jacob inhaled through his nose but didn't let it out in a sigh, trying not to make Myles more nervous. He needed him engaged and not worried about running down the soldier's patience.
"I want you to have the conference room set up for the trials if it isn't already," Jacob continued.
"It is. Or at least, it has the projector, a couple chairs, and the screen."
"Leather straps on the chairs?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Do you have a taser system?"
"Like a tasing gun?"
"Yeah."
"Um, yes. Well, no. I don't personally have one but one of the guards has one. It has a 5 second charge per hit."
"I don't want that one used. I have a 30 second charge instead."
"30 seconds?" Myles eyes widened. "I would hate to be that guy."
Carter used that moment to interrupt, annoyed that he was here on his day off talking about tasers. "It's a 7 watts charge. The one your guard has is likely 26 watts. That's why its shorter. Bigger hit isn't required for longer duration."
"Ah, I see."
Do you? Carter thought to himself impatiently. He really hoped that the meeting didn't take much longer. He had better things to do, like reading his book instead of this.
"Regardless," Jacob continued. "I want you to have a cell cleared out in the next day and I want the taser set up in the conference room. My prisoner will have a wire hooked up to her boot and the other to her belt when the trial starts."
He paused, waiting for Myles who realized with a start that he needed to write his notes down. Quickly, he scribbled the instructions in the book.
"Next, I want her not to have food and limited water for a few days. The only thing she can have is a single cup of water in the evening. And the guards must watch her the entire time. Set up the shifts so they're in 3-hour intervals. Anything more will allow their attention to stray, and we can't afford that. Also, I don't want her getting any sleep."
After jotting the commands down, Myles peeked over the notebook to the soldier. The situation was unexpected, and he felt like he was being given an enormous task, meaning any failure would bring Jacob's disappointment and anger upon his head. He really could not afford that. Despite being a leader over one small compound, job security was nonexistent in the Project.
The more Jacob instructed, the more questions he had. Currently, he debated with himself whether to act on the need for clarification or just listen to everything Jacob had to say first. If he asked his questions now, he risked sounding stupid in front of the Herald and possibly anger the soldier. On the other hand, if he didn't ask and made an assumption that was wrong, looking stupid would be the least of his worries.
"Um…" Myles started, eyes going to the list, then back to Jacob. "So, I heard that one of… That an officer… Er, never mind."
Carter and Jacob's full attention zeroed in on Myles who audibly swallowed, feeling the hairs on his arms stand up from an invisible chill. Having the crushing pressure of the Herald and his right-hand man's gazes on Myles made him feel like a bug under a microscope. Instantly, he regretted his decision to open his mouth.
"No, go ahead." Jacob's icy blue gaze narrowed ever so slightly. "Tell me."
"It's probably just a rumor but… well, it's being said that it was the loose Deputy that took the Lumber Mill yesterday… aaannd I thought that maybe that was who was coming here….?"
The tension mounted through the room, pushing any comfort to the edges and away from the occupants. The air was stiff, making it feel weighted as it entered his lungs. When Myles was certain that he would suffocate from the stress alone, Jacob smirked.
"That's correct. The Deputy has made it clear that she won't be backing down and now she'll be tested as a result." Jacob felt the burning stare from Carter, but still pretended to be unaware.
The soldier didn't seem angry over the loss of territory, almost pleased, Myles noted. Many more questions formed, mostly why the reaction was so different than expected. Eli Palmer had been fighting tooth and nail over property in the region and frustrated Jacob mercilessly. But the Deputy wasn't looked at with disdain. Perhaps, it was still early.
"I understand," Myles replied lamely, not wanting to push in case there was a hidden bitterness beneath Jacob's outward demeanor. "What else can I do to help, sir?"
Jacob shifted his legs, placing the soles of his boots flat on the laminate floor. "I want you to conduct her trials."
At the mention of forfeiting the trials of the troublesome Deputy to a mere follower, especially under the circumstances that surrounded the officer, both men were taken aback.
Carter lifted his head from his knuckles, eyes alert and no longer looking disinterested or bored. A scowl twisted his features as suspicion laced through at what Jacob was planning.
Next to him, Myles sputtered, feeling the crushing force of the responsibility that came with the Deputy. He wanted no part of it! No matter what the result was, if successful.
And the result if it worked was grand.
Not only would they turn the Junior Deputy into a working part of Eden's Gate, but he would have done what no other follower could do. And if the rumors were true, he would have done what Faith couldn't either. The Father would be elated over Myles ending the problem. Rewards would come to him, he was certain.
But even with all that, he just couldn't find the eagerness to please Jacob in this one task.
The accountability that came with failure scared not only him, but many other followers. An inside joke ran through the different groups about being the unlucky saps to watch her. How anyone on the shift when she escaped or caused more damage would find themselves in a world of trouble. Poor bastards.
Poor him.
"Bu-but, sir." There was no delicate approach of stringing the words together in a non-offensive way. In that moment, Myles didn't really have the ability for diplomacy. "Wouldn't you want to perform them yourself? You're more experienced and likely to be successful in her trials. I've only dealt with lowly pests in the region."
"I would only likely be successful? Do you fear the Officer that much to think that even I would struggle with the trial?" Jacob questioned with a tilt of his head and cold eyes narrowed. Myles swallowed again; his mouth suddenly drier than it had been minutes before. "Don't go putting weight into everything you hear about her. At the same time, don't underestimate her. She should be treated cautiously and if you follow my instructions, then you have nothing to worry about."
"Yes, sir… " Myles really didn't want to be in charge of her. "… I'm just hesitant to think that the fire station would be a better option over the Veteran's Center…"
Jacob listened to the comment as it hung in the air between them in the claustrophobic room. Myles realized then that he messed up.
"Why?" Jacob asked slowly as if the word needed to be stretched to fully appreciate it.
"Er…. Never-never mind, I just overth-thinking everything," Myles stammered, trying to backpedal from his earnest effort in having the Herald reconsider. He was pushing his luck too much, openly questioning the soldier.
"If you think you're incapable of following simple orders, I can find another use for you, Myles…"
Did he mean…? Myles gulped and stood a little straighter, notepad and pen in sweaty grasps.
"No-no, sir! I can do it," he forced his voice to sound solid, more determined. For he was determined. Determined not to be wolf food. "I apologize for seeming put off from the orders. It's an honor you are trusting me to accomplish her trials."
"You sure about that? It doesn't sound like you think it is an honor."
"Yes!"
"That's what I figured." Out of the corner of Jacob's peripheral, he noticed Carter leaning forward, elbows on knees and staring straight at him.
They needed to talk.
"I want you to get the full guard shifts assigned for the following five days and bring it to me for approval this evening. When the Deputy arrives, we'll implement it."
"Would you like a breakdown of trial processes I'll have the officer go through as well?"
Jacob pushed way from his desk, uncurling his arms. He shifted his weight, set a hand on the desktop as a few pieces of papers caught his attention, though in reality he was finishing his plan in his head. Playing out what the consequences were before finally committing to the action.
Lifting his gaze to Myles, he answered his question, if a little more relaxed then he truly felt.
"If it hasn't been clear now, we'll be doing things a little differently with the Deputy this time. I'll be staying here to oversee her trials as you conduct them."
Confusion flashed across Myles' face, but any questions remained behind tight lips.
"Get the schedule ready. I'll review it later tonight."
"Yes, sir." Myles hurried out of the office, shutting the door a little louder than he meant behind him.
Jacob released the papers between his fingers and meandered to the matching leather armchair next to Carter. Plopping down unceremoniously, he glanced to his friend who remained leaning forward, watching Jacob get comfortable.
"Whatever's on your mind, just tell me."
Carter sighed before explaining simply. "My feelings are a little hurt."
Jacob hadn't expected a ridiculous sentence to leave his moody friend but recognized the dry humor under the words. "What did I do this time? Not tell you first? I would've but you wouldn't shut up in the truck."
"No, not that." Carter lounged back in the chair, relaxing once more into the tobacco hued leather. "Just that if you didn't want to run the trials, I'm more than capable of it. I don't see why Myles was chosen over me."
"It's nothing to do with your capability. I'll be staying behind here and wanted to have you present when I explained my process, so you were aware. While I'm away, I want you running the Vet Center and make sure nothing stupid happens."
At the sound of taking Jacob's place at the Vet Center, the tension lingering in Carter's shoulders lessened. It was an important task to take over the Vet Center, and he realized that he wasn't being passed up by an incompetent lackey. After nodding, he tossed a cocky smirk to Jacob.
"You sure you're up for handling that officer? Sounds like there isn't much hope for you from Myles."
"Myles is an idiot. He's forgetting his place."
"Even so, why aren't you running the trials yourself? The officer is a big fish, I'd think you'd want the rights to start her tests instead of some lowly compound manager."
"I thought about this a lot," Jacob admitted. He lounged his head on the back of the chair, as his eyes traced the ceiling tile lines. How much did he want to reveal to his friend? There was two parts to the Deputy's value after her arrival to the region that the Herald debated over.
While Joseph wanted the officer's spirit broken, so she could stop breaking their things in return, he also did not want her to be a weapon for them. On the other hand, the task Jacob had for her fell within those lines and Joseph had been on board with it at the time.
And yet, Jacob wasn't sure that was the answer.
The woman was capable, had a fighting spirit, and attractive. He couldn't deny the fact that he wanted to get to know her more than putting her through trials.
But telling that to anyone was out of the question, no matter how close they were to him.
Then again, the feeling was likely temporary; it would disappear once he got her trials started and saw that she was nothing special after all. He just needed to get to that point.
Instead of mentioning his inner dilemma, Jacob offered for an easy umbrella description that was close to the truth.
"I may have multiple needs for the Deputy. Conducting her trials a specific way should open the door for those possibilities. By having Myles start the tests in an aggressive manner, he will be the one she associates with a negative impression instead of myself. If she held that disdain for me, it would be harder to get any cooperation from her willingly."
"I'm willing to bet she already has a negative perception of you."
"Agreed, but it isn't driven by personal offence. Only what I've done to her teammate who is a loyal member to the Project."
"Loyal may be stretching it."
Jacob smirked and leaned his head up to look at his friend. "I suppose you're right. Self-preservation is close enough, though."
Each man retreated to their thoughts. Carter recognized the extensive thought process Jacob used with the woman. He had yet to meet her, but Jacob had recently during a visit to John's region. Since then, the soldier had been almost impatient. There was a restlessness to him during is daily tasks-a need to keep busy. Carter wasn't certain what transpired to have Jacob be distracted from his usual job, but it was something he would have to keep an eye on. He didn't trust the officer. She already proven herself smart and capable, which could severely backfire on them if they made a mistake.
"You mentioned the other day you have hunters watching her incase Eli made an appearance," Carter interrupted the silence. "Any news on that front?"
"Well, today is day 6 and Eli still hasn't shown up. She already started some trouble with resources, vehicle theft, and the Lumber Mill. I hoped that would've lured the bastard out of hiding to confront her, but Eli hasn't lasted this long by rushing in. I figured if I make the first move to the Deputy, he'll follow shortly after."
"You don't think he'll see that plan and avoid the officer further? He never bothered with Pratt before."
"Pratt also isn't useful like Mason is. Eli sees her worth. She's proven it the last few days here. Once I get her, he'll make his move and then we'll get the game going."
"I hope you're right. Palmer has been nothing but a headache. I'm ready to see him gone."
Jacob shook his head, frustrated thinking of how Eli and his militia have sabotaged him this long. "Not as much as me."
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! And look! It's a new chapter sooner than 6 months! (Is that a record?)
The next one may not be out as soon, but I'll still try to get it up as fast as possible! I'm starting school this week and working on moving within the month.
Thank you again to all my readers and reviewers! It always brightens my day when I see that my writing has followers, and I can share the adventure with you.
Until next time, take care!