Chapter 22 - Masks and Shadows

Adam and Alex Shepherd moved silently through the woods, keeping low and watching for any signs of the Order's patrols along the abandoned streets. Decay clung to the buildings like twisted remnants of what had once been their neighboring town. The air was thick with fog, and every distant sound set Alex on edge.

As they hid behind the cracked stone wall of an old storefront, Alex glanced over to his father. "Dad… you've never really explained it all to me. I mean, the Order, and everything that came before. I know the basics, but… why is Shepherd's Glen even tied to Silent Hill in the first place?"

Adam sighed, casting a wary look around before meeting Alex's gaze. "It started with the four founding families the Shepherds, Bartlett's, Holloways, and Fitch's. They were the ones who left Silent Hill generations ago, broke away from that town and its godforsaken religion to start Shepherd's Glen. They still made… the sacrifices, though, to keep whatever's out there appeased and at bay."

Alex frowned. "So that's what we got, huh? An entire town paying for whatever they escaped from?"

Adam nodded. "They thought they were cutting ties, but they only created a new kind of cage. And over the years, Shepherd's Glen kept making its sacrifices, until… well, you know the rest." His gaze darkened. "As for Silent Hill, the place changed under Dahlia Gillespie's control. She led the original cult there, called herself a 'high priestess,' and tried uniting every splinter group under one name. She thought if she could consolidate the Order's power, she'd somehow wield control over the others."

"But… what happened to her?" Alex asked, feeling a strange chill. "Did she… succeed?"

Adam shook his head. "No. Not long after her rise, everything just fell apart. Something went wrong, and soon after, the entire town vanished. Everyone. All that's left is the Shepherd's Glen faction. They're all we have to worry about now."

Alex nodded, feeling the pieces fit into place. He hadn't realized just how deep the connections ran, how Shepherd's Glen had never really escaped Silent Hill. The cult, Holloway, even his own family, all of it was just an extension of the horror that the town had harbored for so long.

"Well Then this is it," Alex muttered, glancing at the road ahead. "We finish what they started."

Adam nodded, gripping his bow tightly. "We break this chain once and for all."

They crept carefully through the outskirts of Silent Hill. The fog grew thicker as they approached the center.

As they edged around an overturned car, Alex glanced over at his father. "You ever come here before?" he whispered.

Adam's eyes scanned their surroundings, "Once. Not for long," he replied, his voice low. "I knew it wasn't a place you wandered unless you had no other choice. People don't come back the same from here."

Their conversation was cut short by a flicker of movement up the street. A shadow passed, and Alex tensed, pressing himself closer to the broken wall they crouched behind. A group of cultists, draped in worn robes, walked slowly past them, patrolling.

When they were out of sight, Alex turned to Adam again. "So the cult still patrols the town… even with everything that's happened here?"

Adam nodded, "They're protecting something. It's why Judge Holloway's been doubling down lately. She's keeping her grasp tight on whatever's left of the Order's old power. She has to if she wants to keep her version of the Order alive."

When the path cleared, they moved on, skirting down another alleyway. "Then why go through all this? What's Holloway even hoping to get out of this if everyone in Silent Hill is gone?"

Adam looked grim. "Power, legacy… control? Maybe it's about revenge. Maybe she thinks if she holds on to what's left, she can command what Silent Hill was supposed to offer?"

They turned another corner, finding themselves near the edge of a street leading toward a sprawling church at the center of town. The building loomed in the fog, its spire barely visible through the mist. For a moment, Alex felt a feeling of familiarity, he'd seen this place before in his dreams, in flashes and nightmares.

"There it is," Adam muttered. "The old Order's headquarters."

Alex gripped his knife tighter. "Then this is where it ends."

Adam looked at him, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Just stay sharp, Alex. The people here, know how to use your fears against you. Don't let them get in your head."

They shared a silent nod, each steeling themselves for what lay ahead.

The rumble of an engine cut through the mist, followed by the unmistakable metallic rattle of a mounted gun. Alex and Adam ducked behind a rusted dumpster, watching as a technical, makeshift patrol truck, slowly rolled into view. A .50-caliber machine gun was bolted to the truck bed, its barrel scanning the street like a silent, deadly sentry. Two cultists rode in the back, each armed with hunting rifles, eyes sharp even as the fog rolled in thick around them.

"Damn it," Adam muttered, sizing up the patrol. "They've fortified this place better than I thought."

Alex shifted, keeping his eyes on the vehicle. "That's gonna tear us apart if they catch us out in the open. There's no way we're getting close to the headquarters like this."

Adam gave a nod, quickly scanning their surroundings. "We're going to have to circle around and find another way in. These patrols move in cycles, if we're fast, we can catch a gap."

The truck rumbled closer, forcing them to duck down as its headlights swept past, illuminating the pavement. Alex clenched his jaw, watching as the cultists scanned every shadow with trained precision.

"Let's head down that side street," Adam whispered, pointing to a narrow path cutting between a row of buildings. "It's tighter quarters, less chance of us getting spotted from a distance."

They slipped away quietly, their footsteps nearly silent on the damp ground as they moved along the side street. The sound of the truck faded into the distance, but Alex's heart still raced.

As they turned a corner, the old church loomed into view once more, shrouded in fog, but this time without any immediate obstacles between them and its imposing front steps.

Alex shot Adam a look, a spark of determination in his eyes. "So what's the plan when we're in there?"

Adam exhaled, his eyes hardening as he looked at the old headquarters. "We find out what she's hiding, what she's planning, and stop it. Whatever it takes." He reached for the bow strapped to his back, notching an arrow. "Stay close, and stay sharp. We only get one shot at this."

The cultist, lost in his thoughts and distracted by the thin stream of smoke rising from his cigarette, didn't see it coming. Adam's arrow sailed silently through the fog, its path unerring. It struck the cultist in the throat, cutting off his gasp before he even had the chance to scream. He staggered, clutching at the arrow, his cigarette falling to the ground as he slumped against the wall, silent and still.

Alex moved in quickly, crouching beside the body and scanning the area to ensure they hadn't been spotted. The rest of the patrol seemed oblivious, focused on their route around the front of the headquarters.

Adam's face remained impassive, his eyes trained on the distant truck as he slowly lowered the bow. "We're clear for now," he whispered, stepping forward to retrieve the arrow. "Stay low. We're going to have to keep it quiet."

Alex nodded, glancing at the body and feeling a pang of satisfaction. These were Holloway's people, the ones who'd taken Elle and his mom, who had hounded them at every step. There was no room for sympathy.

Adam gestured toward the fallen cultist. "Put on his robes, Alex. Blend in, and see what you can find out from the inside. With any luck, they'll think you're one of their own."

Alex grimaced but nodded, quickly pulling off the cultist's robe and slipping it over his clothes. The fabric was heavy and smelled like smoke and mildew. He pulled the hood up, shadowing his face, and tucked the combat knife securely in his sleeve.

"Be careful in there," Adam whispered, clapping a hand on Alex's shoulder. "I'll circle, try to find another way in, and see if there's a vantage point. Look for any clues about where they're holding Elle and your Mom."

Alex nodded, swallowing his nerves as he stepped back onto the main path, falling in line with the steady patrol of cultists. He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he slipped deeper into enemy territory, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Alex stiffened as the cultist's voice cut through the tension. "Hey, dummy, where've you been?"

He forced a casual shrug, keeping his voice low. "Just took a smoke break," he replied, hoping it was convincing enough to the cultist.

The cultist scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Dumbass. Get in the truck. Curtis wants us patrolling the beaches for Shepherd and his kid."

Alex hesitated for a split second before nodding and clambering into the back of the old, rusted truck. As he settled in among the other cultists, he felt his heart pound against his ribcage. Curtis Ackers hadn't seen the mechanic since everything had gone sideways back in Shepherd's Glen. Now, he was even deeper into enemy territory, but at least he had his foot in the door.

One of the cultists nudged him, mumbling, "Let's just hope we find those Shepherds fast. Curtis said Holloway's getting real impatient."

Alex kept his expression neutral, absorbing every detail as the truck rumbled to life and started toward the shore.

Alex suppressed a sigh, keeping his head low as the car rattled down the dirt road toward the beach. He'd just been there, dragged out of the water by his father. And now, he was headed right back, all while his best chance of sneaking into the Order's Silent Hill headquarters slipped further away. But there was no other option, for now, he'd have to play along.

Meanwhile, in the shadows beyond the Order's watchful gaze, Adam moved with silent precision. He aimed with the bow, lining up his shot at the nearest cultist who was scanning the perimeter. The arrow flew, striking the cultist in the chest before he could even register the threat. Adam quickly slipped forward, retrieving the arrow with practiced ease before spotting another cultist wandering closer to the beach.

Using the element of surprise, Adam crept up behind the second cultist and, with a quick, decisive strike of the hunting knife he'd scavenged earlier, dispatched him quietly. He dragged the body behind a nearby bush, concealing it from view as he surveyed the area. They had to keep moving if they wanted any chance of staying ahead of the patrols.

Back in the truck, Alex kept his gaze lowered, doing his best to blend in with the cultists surrounding him. The cultists exchanged casual, ominous conversation about how they'd search every inch of the shore and what they'd do to Alex and Adam Shepherd once they found them. Alex clenched his fists beneath his robes, fighting the urge to react.

After what felt like an eternity, the truck rolled to a stop near the beach. The cultists started piling out, Curtis barking orders from the front. "You! Check the waterline. You two, head toward the trees. And you," he added, pointing directly at Alex, "You're scouting the cliffs."

Alex forced a nod, muttering an affirmative as he followed Curtis toward the rocky cliffs overlooking Toluca Lake. From the corner of his eye, he scanned for any signs of his father, hoping Adam had managed to stay hidden. His heart pounded as he weighed his options, maybe if he could get Curtis alone, maybe he could get some information on where Holloway was holding Elle and his mom.

As they reached the cliff edge, Curtis lit a cigarette and gave Alex a sideways glance. "You seem quiet. What's your deal?"

Alex hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Just… trying to focus. The last thing I want is to screw up in front of Holloway," he said, hoping Curtis would take the bait.

Curtis snorted, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Smart. Margaret doesn't take too kindly to slackers. One wrong move, she'll make you wish you were dead." He glanced around, the cigarette glowing in the twilight. "Especially with all she's got going on in that old prison. Brought in some new guests last night. Real important, from the way she's been acting."

Alex's mind raced. A prison? Maybe that was where they were holding Elle and his mom. But before he could press for more, Curtis stiffened, turning his head as a faint rustle echoed from behind the rocks.

"Holloway's not exactly thrilled with our little... delay," Curtis continued, drawing out his words. "You know how she gets when we waste time. And she was hoping her good ol' soldier would be a little more efficient." He chuckled, and the other cultists shifted uncomfortably, none of them catching the undertone.

Curtis leaned in closer, lowering his voice just enough for only Alex to hear in his ear. "Let's hope you're not dumb enough to get caught slacking. Wouldn't want Holloway to think she's been let down by her… faithful allies."

Then, stepping back with a slow smirk, Curtis raised his voice to the others. "Alright, slackers! Holloway wants results. Move out." He turned back to Alex. "Lead the way, soldier boy. You have your orders"

Then Curtis hopped back into the driver's seat of the truck, gesturing for Alex and the other cultists to get a move on as he fired up the engine. Alex felt his stomach twist. This infiltration was proving even more dangerous than he'd anticipated, especially with Curtis's knowing, watchful eye.

Meanwhile, in her dimly lit office, Judge Holloway sat alone, eyes fixed on the grainy surveillance monitors before her. She watched Wheeler, James, and Angela in their respective cells, each isolated and exhausted. Wheeler paced back and, muttering curses under his breath, James sat motionless, Angela huddled in a corner, knees drawn to her chest. She hadn't even brought out the physical torture yet. Better to let them squirm for the time being.

Yet as Holloway flipped through the feeds, a scowl began to spread across her face. There were supposed to be two more prisoners, Lillian Shepherd and her daughter, Elle. Where were they? She had given explicit orders, and by now, they should have been locked up like the others.

"Are they dragging their feet?" she muttered with irritation. She tapped her fingernails rhythmically against the desk, her icy gaze never leaving the screen.

The heavy steel door to Holloway's office creaked open, and Curtis stepped in, trailing a faint odor of cigarette smoke. He shut the door behind him, his expression a mix of mild amusement and fatigue.

"Judge Holloway," he drawled, barely concealing his smirk, "good to see you in such… high spirits."

Holloway shot him a glare but let it slide, eyes flicking back to the monitors. "Curtis, where are Lillian Shepherd and my daughter, Elle? And Adam and Alex Shepherd for that matter?" Her voice was razor-sharp, carrying a demand for answers as she tapped her fingers against the desk in rhythmic impatience.

Curtis, ever the master of masking his irritation with sarcasm, shrugged. "Funny thing about that," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "They haven't exactly turned up since that lake ambush. Some of the boys think they slipped away, but I wouldn't worry, Judge. The Shepherds' luck only goes so far."

Holloway's eyes narrowed as she processed this. "Slipped away?" she repeated. "I don't pay for excuses, Curtis. I pay for results."

Curtis raised an eyebrow. "But don't you worry, I'll double the patrols and make sure our search runs like a well-oiled machine. It's still our territory."

Holloway's expression barely softened, but she nodded, still bristling. "Do that. And, Curtis," she added, eyes flicking back to the monitors, "be quick about it. I don't intend to waste resources chasing ghosts."

Holloway's gaze lingered on Curtis, sharp and assessing, a faint smile just touching the corners of her mouth. "We're on the same page about this, aren't we, Curtis?" She said, inviting and yet implicitly demanding an answer she could believe.

Curtis hesitated, barely, but enough for Holloway to notice. His mouth quirked into something resembling a smile as he forced himself to meet her eyes. "Yes, Holloway. You know I'm loyal to the Order. Always have been." The words rang true enough, but she caught the strain in his voice, the almost imperceptible twitch of discomfort at his temple.

She held his gaze longer, scrutinizing the details of his expression, then leaned back with a slow nod. "Good," she replied smoothly, though the edge in her tone suggested her patience had limits. "Because I've just received a report that one of our men was found dead, arrow to the back. Only Adam or Alex would pull a trick like that, and you and I both know it."

Curtis stiffened ever so slightly, then nodded, shrugging with a casualness that seemed a touch too practiced. "Couldn't be anyone else, Judge. But we'll handle it, don't you worry."

"I'm counting on it," Holloway replied, the faint smile never quite reaching her eyes. "If we have strays running loose, I expect you'll bring them in before any more… incidents occur."

Holloway then sighed, tapping her fingers against the edge of the monitor. "Perhaps it's time we call in that… friend of mine."

Curtis just about dropped his cigarette. "You mean that fucking psycho?" he blurted, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice. He looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Yes, Curtis," she replied, her gaze cold and unwavering. "The very same 'fucking psycho'."

"The one you sent after that fish-loving nutjob cult in New Innsmouth?" Curtis lowered his voice to a near-whisper, almost as if mentioning his name alone could summon him. "You think that's… necessary?"

She nodded, a calculated, almost predatory gleam in her eye. "It's not just necessary. It's exactly what we need. If Adam and Alex want to play the hero, I'll show them how fast their bravery breaks."

Curtis took another long drag of his cigarette, his eyes glancing away, uneasy. "Once you set him loose, there's no leashing him again. You know that."

"Good," she replied, a cruel smile curling her lips. "If they think I'm a monster, they haven't seen anything yet from my friend."

Curtis shifted uneasily, the cigarette trembling between his fingers. "Judge, you think we should call him in? Frankly, he… scares the hell out of me. Scares all of us, to be honest."

Holloway let out a low, humorless laugh. "Good. That means you'll all have a bit more encouragement to deal with Adam and his son before he arrives, won't you?"

Curtis swallowed, the unease in his eyes impossible to hide. "Yeah, I guess so."

She gave him a long, hard look. "Remember, Curtis, fear is a powerful motivator. And I intend to use every tool at my disposal to see this done. Adam and Alex won't know what hit them."

Holloway chuckled, a low, menacing sound that echoed through the room. "If Adam decided to call in his outsider of a brother-in-law, James Sunderland… well, it's only fair I bring in my own Enforcer." Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "An outsider for an outsider."

Curtis's face paled. "Well… That's one hell of an enforcer you're bringing in."

"Precisely," Holloway said, the smirk playing on her lips. "Adam's little family reunion is about to get far more interesting than he anticipated."