Keep Your Rifle by Your Side - A HOI4 Modern Day Story

[alex man142]

The destruction of the statue only increased Elizabeth’s fame and notoriety amongst the tightly knit County community. With every victory, more men dug up their rifles and joined Eli’s Whitetail militia in a bid to drive out the Cult from their homes and protect their loved ones. Stories of her accomplishments, not all of them entirely factual, spread like wildfire. Some claimed that Elizabeth could dodge bullets. Others said she could kill hordes of Chosen with nothing but a bolt action rifle. Elizabeth did her best to downplay the rumors, but stories once told are very difficult to conceal. Eli was having the time of his life with the effective propaganda, using it to great effect in his recruitment drives throughout the valley.

Unfortunately, the Cult pushed harder than ever. Anyone who was captured with even a hint of suspicion of aiding the militia was crucified or sent to the bunker to be subjected to horrors that sent shivers down Elizabeth’s spine. Soon, most of the farms and towns that were freed were under constant attack by Cult raids, forcing many to flee their homes and escape into the Whitetail Mountains. Most of Elizabeth’s time was spent responding to raiding parties and either destroying them before reaching their intended target or defending a county location from a Cult raid. It was exhaustive work, and her kill count increased almost daily.

“You…you look pretty fucked,” Eli remarked as Elizabeth walked haggardly into the Spread Eagle and collapsed onto a ragged cough, her once pristine military fatigues oozing with the freshly spilt blood of her enemies.

She sighed loudly in relief, stretching her legs out as hard as she could. “Tell me about it.”

“What happened?”

“Well,” she gasped, crossing her legs and leaning her head back over the back edge of the sofa, “we got ambushed. It got pretty messy.”

Eli gave Elizabeth a crude look and gently squeezed her shoulder. His hand was quickly covered in blood. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“I killed a boy, no older than the one I killed in Iraq,” she bit her lips. “This time though, he was an American. When will this nonsense stop?”

Eli flicked whatever blood he could off of his hands and leaned forward in his seat, resting his head into his clean arm. “When the Seeds are all dead.”

“I’ll pray for that day to come,” Mary May announced upon leaving the kitchen. She had clearly overheard their conversation. “Do you want a beer Eli? I have some water for you honey.”

“Give me your strongest shit,” Eli scratched his long hair. “I need it.”

“Thanks,” Elizbeth said without even looking, gulping the glass of water in seconds. “Fuck that was amazing.”

“They always said the founder of our town had an eye for good things when he saw them,” Eli smirked ever so slightly, fidgeting with his jacket. “I guess he liked the wells under our town just as much as the gold.”

“Maybe he was just bat-shit crazy like everyone from this place,” Elizabeth responded tertly.

“Fair enough Liz, fair enough,” Eli chimed in defeatedly. “We do have our fair share of crazies.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Ya’ll are more crazy than a bunch of liberals at a Tumblr convention.’

Eli adjusted himself and sat upright. “Hey now, we aren’t that insane.”

Elizabeth chuckled ever so softly. “True. At least you know which bathroom you use.”

Eli laughed heartily and slapped the edges of his knees. “You’re funny.”

Elizabeth grinned. “Trust me, I’ve worked with liberals for much of my life. I have plenty of material…trust me on that at least.”

“You oughta join the cult then!” Eli snorted. “You talk just like them.”

“It’s just odd,” Elizabeth frowned, her tone changing from one of jest to one of seriousness. “They look and act like people I know. If they weren’t so…crazy…then they would be just like any militia group that I have friends in. Hell, they probably could pass as a 3 percenter or oathkeeper. They just mix that natural American ruggedness with deranged religious lunacy.”

“Aren’t you religious Liz?”

Elizabeth nodded her head. “I am but they pervert the word of God. Nobody knows the day or the hour of the coming. It says that. Right in scripture. The cult is so hellbent on causing the apocalypse that they are perverting the truth. Joseph has to be stopped before he can kill billions of people in your folly.”

“I agree…”

Before Eli could finish his train of thought, a gentleman wearing a fedora and a bandana over his head calmly left the bar and slowly made his way over to the pair. He pulled out a small handgun and pointed it directly at Elizabeth. “That is where you are wrong,” he said, his voice full of gravel and hate. He pulled his bandana down and revealed the familiar face of crazy Ernie. “He is the prophet of God!!”

“Ernie?!” Elizabeth was stunned. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Ernie shouted deranged. “What am I doing here?! You killed John, the brother of God’s messenger! You kill God’s servants and fight against His plans, and you expect me to stay silent and not do anything?! The moment I heard, I rushed over here to end you before you can fill this land of Eden with even more wickedness.”

“Put the gun down,” Elizabeth waved her hands around in an effort to implore him. “We can talk.”

“I knew you were a sinner! I knew you were a dirty and disgusting servant of the enemy! Worse than that…I believe you are the anti-Christ, the servant of evil created to kill all that is good! I should have killed you back in Fayetville, but I was too weak in faith. I should have killed your whore husband and demonic children, but alas, I was weak in faith.”

“Keep them out of this.” Elizabeth seethed, her eyes full of hate as she eyeballed him over looking for a moment to strike. Eli was slowly edging himself further and further away from her, looking for a moment to pounce. “They are not involved.”

“I know!” Ernie screamed. “But you are. I am going to put you down like the rabid sinner that you are.”

“Take the fucking shot!” Elizabeth hissed. “You fucking coward! Take the fucking shot!!!”

At that moment, Eli jumped into action, tackling the old man and pinning him to the floor rather easily. Elizabeth didn’t even bother to pull out a weapon of her own—she merely grabbed Ernie’s neck and maneuvered her legs around to easily be able to snap it. Despite this, Ernie kept resisting. He used his hands and whatever strength he could to fight back, grabbing and reaching for Eli face and trying to free himself. In the commotion, Ernie managed to reach for his gun and briefly got some random shots off before Elizabeth snapped his neck in half, killing him instantly.

Eli slowly hobbled himself to his feet before collapsing on the floor. He had been shot in the scuffle.

“Eli?” Elizabeth asked, confused. “ELI!!!!”

She ran over to him and rested his lifeless head in her lap. She began to weep profusely, begging him to come back and how much she needed him right now, but it was to no avail. She cried, then screamed, then raged.

The cult would die. All of them.

 

[alex man142]

I meant to make the battle below one giant chapter, but I'm too tired at the moment (sleepwise) to finish and my time is limited, so I'm just going to drop the first half now and finish it later)

Elizabeth stared emotionlessly as several militia men finished covering up the hole that they dug to place Eli’s coffin in. She did her best not to cry—she was the leader of the militia now and she had to be strong, not only for them, but for the entire county. They all depended on her now. She was all that they had. His coffin was slowly and surely covered by ever increasing quantities of dirt until it was finally completely buried. Even some of the more stoic and heavily bearded militia, men who had seen countless atrocities, were visibly shaken.

“He was a good man,” Elizabeth said, addressing the soldiers who had gathered around. “Each of us knew him in our way, but what brought us here was loss. Families…friends….Eli gave us back a little piece of that. He showed us the only thing we can rely on is each other. He was my old friend…” she paused, doing her best to catch some tears welling in her eyes. “And I’m going to miss him.”

“That we will,” Mary May interjected loudly. “He was more than a father to us. He saved us, but the threat will remain. Eden’s Gate won’t leave us.”

“He did,” Elizabeth agreed. “Eden’s Gate will not go away, fuck no. A cancer doesn’t fade, it grows, it spreads! We have to cut it out! These fucking peggies believe the end of the world is coming…well it is for them! Eden’s Gates ends today! WE WON’T STOP UNTIL EVERY LAST ONE OF THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS IS HANGING FROM THESE TREESS!!!!”

Every last militia soldier raised his rifle and began to hoot and holler in affirmation. It was a cathartic moment, as men who had been through so many hardships finally came together, determined to end the enemy that had brought them so much woe. Elizabeth joined them, shouting angrily and working every one even more than they already were.

She didn’t notice the panicked young man sprint from the Spread Eagle and towards the throng. He awkwardly tried to push his way through the crowd and towards Elizabeth, but he was finding it difficult. He managed to find an opening, but he tripped and fell flat on his face right in front of his new leader.

“Elizabeth!” He gasped in panic. “We have news from the Bunker!”

“What news son? Spit it out boy!”

“It’s under…it’s under attack!” He screamed. “The Cult knows that Eli is dead and they are taking advantage of the news. The Chosen have all rallied, every last one of them led by Jacob. They want to destroy us.”

The defiant crowd soured in just a few seconds. “The Chosen?” One cried in fear. “Oh my god!!” Another yelled. Everyone was muttering and frantically suggesting courses of action, mostly involving packing their bags and leaving those in the bunker to their fates. Even Elizabeth looked gob smacked by the news, but she cautioned herself.

“I’m not scared of men who play in masks. I don’t need a covering to make men scared of me. I hunt the hunters, I kill the killers, and I stalk the stalkers. Chosen don’t frighten me, and they shouldn’t frighten us.”

“But the Chosen are trained!” One militia soldier replied fearfully. “They are ex-military.”

“I’m a woman. If I can do what they do, then what does that make the lot of you? Follow me, and I’ll show you how to fuck them in their asses.”

“We are going to die if we go and fight them!” He begged. Others agreed with him, muttering in agreement and quietly whispering similar ideas.

“Not if we kill them first!” Elizabeth responded confidently, doing her best to mask what she was really feeling. “They may be strong, but they are messing with the wrong people. What would Eli have us do? He wouldn’t cower behind bunkers or walls. He wouldn’t run! He would fight. Let’s be like him! Let’s go shatter their fucking skulls in!”

The energy of the crowd changed immediately. They were ready to fight…and possibly even die for their new leader. Deep down, she was unsure if she would make it out of a scrap with four other ex-ghosts, but not of that mattered now. You lose every game you don’t play, and she was going to take her shot. Jacob was there, and killing him would undeniably put a massive whole in the Cult’s leadership and possibly even break it apart entirely. That…now that…was truly worth the risks. She would possibly even get Rubio back.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The battle was incredibly one-sided. The Militia did their best to keep the Cult at bay, but they were swarmed and forced back into the bunker, taking heavy casualties in the process. Elizabeth saw the bodies of numerous Militia strewing the area outside the Bunker’s entrance, most of them gunned down before they even had a chance to flee. The Cult soldiers were busy looting the corpses of anything valuable and getting ready to break down the bunker’s doors with a series of rockets and explosives. Leading them were the Chosen, their fearsome animal skin lined uniforms whirling heartily in the breeze, their faces covered in masks. There had to be at least fifteen Chosen on site, which was probably most, if not all of them. All in all, the Cult had assembled a very large force for this attack, and more were coming.

She knew that her old friends Rosebud, Walker, and Yellowleg were down there among the Chosen. They were all part of her first squad in Russia. Rosebud was a classmate of hers at West Point, Yellowleg was an older officer, and Walker was her commander. She grinned faintly as she recalled all jokes Rosebud told, all the antics Yellowleg pulled on her, and all of the lessons that Walker taught her about how to be a soldier. Unlike many of her peers, they all took her seriously despite her gender, never treating her differently and actually valuing her opinions. It was sad to see them fall to such depths of depravity.

I am an angel of death. I am a harbringer of justice, and today, you will burn in the lake of fire. May God have mercy on my soul

“Alright everyone,” she said over radio. “Let’s do this. Fuck em up!!”

Mortars were fired, rockets were launched, and the sounds of gunfire filled the valley. The Militia swarmed from their predetermined locations and attack the Cult from every single angle, and at the same time, those inside the Bunker opened the door and sallied out from within, catching those who were right outside in the crossfire. Elizabeth did what she did best—sniping from a distance. The Chosen were little match for her rage, and they were scythed down like ripened wheat, but this was no small battle. The entire valley seemed to be raging, with little fires popping up all over the place and explosions thundering all around her. The Cult was fighting back hard despite being attacked from almost every angle. Elizabeth was constantly moving position from her hill, firing on different targets and taking out everyone that the Militia was radioing in for her.

How blessed is he who considers the helpless;
The Lord will deliver him in a day of trouble.
The Lord will protect him and keep him alive,
And he shall be called blessed upon the earth;
And do not give him over to the desire of his enemies.
The Lord will sustain him upon his sickbed;
In his illness, You restore him to health.

As for me, I said, “O Lord, be gracious to me;
Heal my soul, for I have sinned against You.”
My enemies speak evil against me,
“When will he die, and his name perish?”
And when he comes to see me, he speaks falsehood;
His heart gathers wickedness to itself;
When he goes outside, he tells it.
All who hate me whisper together against me;
Against me they devise my hurt, saying,
“A wicked thing is poured out upon him,
That when he lies down, he will not rise up again.”
Even my close friend in whom I trusted,
Who ate my bread,
Has lifted up his heel against me.

But You, O Lord, be gracious to me and raise me up,
That I may repay them.
By this I know that You are pleased with me,
Because my enemy does not shout in triumph over me.
As for me, You uphold me in my integrity,
And You set me in Your presence forever.

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
From everlasting to everlasting.
Amen and Amen.

“Elizabeth…” came a sudden and unpanicked voice on her radio. “It’s Rubio. Where are you?”

“Rubio?!!” Elizabeth gasped with glee. “Where are you?”

“I managed to escape in the crossfire. I’m hiding in the woods. What’s your location?”

“I’m on the large rocky hill. You can’t miss it?”

“The one with the large boulders?”

“That’s it!” Elizabeth said, her heart racing with joy. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you Liz.”

Elizabeth continued to snipe away, but her heart was gladdened that her best friend had managed to free himself. The Militia were gaining the upper hand through her efforts, and the Cult was gradually being pushed out of the Mountains despite their best efforts and reinforcements. All over the radio channels, the Militia was reporting that the Cult was gradually fading away. All was well.

Behind her, Rubio slowly stepped up the rocky cliffs. “Hello Elizabeth.” He said weakly. He was a mess, and his face was bruised from what she could only assume were repeated beatings and torture. He had lost weight, and his face was pale from not being in the sun.

“Rubio!” She exclaimed, eagerly walking into her friend’s arms. “My goodness, you look so messed up. Let me get you to back to Falls End, we will feed you up and get you whatever you might need to get back to full health. I am so happy to see you.”

“As am I,” he said robotically and hugging her tightly. “I’m glad you are safe.”

“Let’s get you out of…” she said before gasping as something stabbed her back. She felt something enter her bloodstream, and her vision almost immediately went grey, hazy and blurry. She could feel it slowly flow all the way up her body. She looked at Rubio with confusion and exasperation, her joyous smile turning into a confused and betrayed look. “Wh…”

“Shhh,” Rubio comforted her, covering her mouth with one of his fingers. “It will all be alright Elizabeth. You need to see the truth, and that is something that I will show you. Men, come up and bring her out.”

Three men of the chosen emerged from their hiding spots with their masks at their hands. Even in her dazed state, she could tell that it was her old team.

“My my Nomad,” Walker smirked. “You really have been a terrible sinner lately. I’m glad that our good pal Midas here got you before you could murder more of God’s servants. I thought I taught you better in Latvia, but I guess not. I’ll have to teach you again.”

Rosebud, her old classmate, quickly grabbed her rifle and unloaded it. “Good to see you again Nomad. I wish it was under better circumstances, but we will be friends again soon enough.” Elizabeth tried to move, but she was frozen by whatever drugs Rubio had injected into her.

“Come,” Walker barked. “Bring her to the father. We will be rewarded by God Himself for brining this architect of evil to the father.”

As they grabbed her arms, she began to fight back the drugs internally. It reached her brain, but she did everything in her power to stop from blacking out. She bit her lips so hard that they began to bleed, and her face grew white with exertion. Small beads of sweat began to appear on her nose and drip down her face—it all worked, and she slowly began to recover herself.

“Stop fighting Elizabeth,” Rubio implored. “Please.”

She took a chance. She knocked her head back right into Walker’s head and dropped him to the ground. She pulled her pistol from her side and unloaded several rounds into Rosebud and Yellowleg, killing them in seconds, but Rubio tackled her to the ground and her handgun flew from her grip and off the mountain. The two wrestled before Walker tackled the pair and knocked them off the hill. They all tumbled, completely at the mercy of gravity. She finally came to a rest at the bottom, stopped by a giant tree.

 

[alex man142]

Elizabeth groaned in agony as she hobbled to her feet, but she immediately collapsed back to the earth as the pain was simply too great. Her ribs felt like they were on fire—she had most likely fractured several of them during the fall, and her entire body was aching all over. Her arms and legs were covered with bruises. Her hair was covered with dirt and thickets. She was lucky that she landed on a tree and not in a bed of thorns or poison ivy.

She rolled over and began to hack up blood on the ground. She was not in a good state. “Fuck me!” She screamed, coughing up more blood. In the distance and not far back up the mountain was her bag, lodged in a small bush. Her medicines and adredline shots where there, something that she desperately needed. Against every inclination that her body was giving her, she struggled to her feet. Every single step caused a shooting pain to sear her legs. She clenched the right side of her stomach as it literally felt like it was flaming. She found a rhythm, carefully limping along, using trees to steady herself.

“NOMAD!!” Walker roared, standing next to her backpack with arms upraised. He looked pretty roughed up with blood flowing from several cuts on his face, but otherwise, he was definitely not has hurt as she was. In his hand was a large machete, which he promptly dug into the groud.

“Move…aside,” Elizabeth begged, her voice barely stronger than a whisper.

“Are you looking for this?” Walker mocked upon noticing her bag. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get past me to get it.”

“Why…why?” Elizabeth said, gritting her teeth and clenching the side of her stomach. “Why…why the cult?”

Walker scratched his beard. “All of that will be answered, if you come with me. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you refuse to accept our forgiveness, I will be forced to put you down like the rabid dog you currently are. Eli isn’t here to help you anymore. You don’t have a gun. You don’t even have a knife. You are alone. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

“I..I won’t go…with you,” Elizabeth shook her head in both pain and defiance. “I…I would…rather….rather die.”

Walker seemed disappointed by this. He sighed and grabbed his machete. “Have it your way.” He let out a loud screech and charged her with his machete raised above his head. Elizabeth frantically looked around her something, anything, that she could use to defend herself, but there nothing but sticks and small rocks. He swung his machete in a wild motion but she dodged it, screaming in pain. “Stay still!!!” He barked. His next swing missed her again and instead hit a tree. He tried to pull his machete out for another strike. It was lodged in the tree.

She took her chance and quickly limped away from him and towards a set of larger rocks. He abandoned his machete and went after her.

“Get…away!” She begged him, but he didn’t listen. He rapidly closed in on her. His face was full of hate, almost like a rabid animal. He was practically frothing.

“Now you die!!” He screamed.

She reached down to the ground for something. Anything. He neared, and she had only seconds to act. Her hand grabbed a small rock, and she tossed it in a final act of desperation. It hit his head with a large thud, stunning him and forcing him to the dirt. She took no chances, and sprinted over to him with another rock in her hand. He tried to crawl away, but she pulled him back towards her, flipped him over, and began to beat his face. He resisted for a few seconds, but was killed as she caved his face in. She only stopped when his brains were spread all over the dirt around his now dead body.

“FUCK!!” She agonized, crawling over slowly to her bag and grabbing it with every last fiber of her strength. It was tightly backed, but she found what she needed. She gasped with relief as she injected her body with the prototype adredline that the Ghosts used—it would keep her going until she could reach a hospital where she could rest herself.

Her head turned and she gazed the corpse of her old friend covered in his brains. None of this made sense to her. Not at all. He was a good commander, a family man with children. He loved eating Pizza, and invited Elizabeth all the time for game nights. He was even present at her wedding and was more than supportive when she took a few months off to raise William. Now he was dead by her hand. This was the first kill since her first that she felt truly disturbed at what she had just done. She raised her hands. They were shaking. She felt dirty, disgusting, and sick. She could always rationalize the deaths of terrorists and enemies of her country, but these were her countrymen. She was killing her own friends.

“Sweat Elizabeth,” Rubio sighed disappointingly upon walking near to her. “Why do you kick God so?”

She didn’t even bother to raise herself to her feet. All the fight was gone from her. “What are you talking about Rubio?”

It was clear that she was talking to Rubio, but it was also clear that it was not him. His cheery brown eyes were glazed over, and his near constant grin was replaced by a twisted, almost robotic emotionlessness. He had been replaced by someone that was not the Rubio that she had known for her entire life.

“You fight God. You kill His servants. You keep fighting Him. I don’t understand why you keep resisting. Why?”

Elizabeth felt her eyes filling with tears. “Rubio? Do you hear yourself? The cult wants to destroy the world…kill billions of people. Joseph is a madman! Come with me! I will take you back to Falls End and we will get those drugs out of your system. I will make you normal again. Please Rubio. Please.”

“I cannot do that Elizabeth,” he responded coldly. “I follow God, not man.”

“What about Andrea?” She cried. “What about your kids? What about our church?! Please Rubio, come with me. We will go back to that diner, and we will eat and laugh as our kids run around and make a mess of everything. We will study scripture every day with our families, and we can go back to that beach that we love. Just come with me.”

Rubio shook his head. “Andrea means nothing to me, Elizabeth. She is a sinner who has rejected the truth that God has shown me. My old family means nothing to me—my brothers and sisters are those who follow and obey the Word of God. If you refuse to convert, then you will be nothing to me but an enemy, and I will be forced to kill you.”

Elizabeth couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks. “Rubio…you are breaking my soul. What happened?”

“This will be your last chance old friend,” he remarked, pulling out a handgun and loading a round into the chamber. “Repent, or I will take you to meet God Himself. I hope He shows more mercy than you deserve.”

“Rubio…please, come with me.”

“Last chance old boss,” Rubio said robotically, placing the barrel of the gun right at her face.

“Nooo!” Elizabeth yelled and reached out for the gun, knocking it away from her. Rubio fired off a few rounds, but none of them hit Elizabeth. He tried to re-aim his pistol, but she tackled him by his legs and dropped him to the floor. He dropped the gun in the process, and it fell amongst a thick set of bristled bushes not far from them.

“Sinner!” Rubio roared. Elizabeth had trained with him for over a decade and she knew his every move, but not only was not as hurt as she was, he, being a man, was simply stronger. Even in his drugged state, he easily overpowered his old companion and wrestled her around. Soon, she was totally at his mercy. “You filthy servant of evil! How dare you fight against the servant of God!!!” He reached his arm over her throat and pulled it tightly, starting to choke her out. “You will die here, forgotten and buried in the dirt. May God have mercy on you old friend!”

“R..ubio!” She sputtered as the breath left her body, unable to free herself from his tight grasp. Rubio’s gun, however, was within her reach. With the last energy that she could muster, she stretched her arm out and managed to grab it. He noticed this and let go of her throat to wrestle it away from her, but in the confusion, the gun went off and hit him square in the chest.

“Rubio!!!” She screamed as tears rolled down her face. “No…no…” She layed his dying body onto hers and wrapped his head around her chest, swaying up and down trying to keep him alive, but it was to no avail. He bled out in less than a minute and died right there in her arms.

“No, Rubio…” she wept, stroking his hair.

 

[alex man142]

The ammunition fell like water out of their container and onto the large table, filling the room with the clanging of brass. Elizabeth’s hand was trembling violently and she paused for a brief second, but nonetheless began to load the magazine with ammo. Once it was filled, she tossed it onto a stack of dozens of others just like them. Her right hand was completely covered in black soot. Her body was telling her to stop, and her ribs screamed with pain, but she kept going.

“You know Elizabeth,” Mary May said. “You really should get some rest.”

“No,” Elizabeth huffed.

“What are you planning on doing anyways?”

“I’m going to kill them all. Every single one of those bastards.”

Mary May shot Elizabeth a concerned look. “Liz, you’ve broken several ribs, you’ve been shot, stabbed, hurt. For goodness sake hon take a bit of a breather. We have many good men out here who can keep the fight up while you rest.”

Elizabeth tossed another magazine onto the pile. “My friends are dead. My best friend is dead. My closest girlfriend is now a widow and her children have no father. They poisoned his fucking mind!!” She tossed an empty magazine forcefully against a wall. “I had to kill him Mary May! I had to fucking kill my best friend! Do you know what that’s like?!”

“I do not,” Mary May admitted,

“Let me tell you then. It is the worse feeling in the entire world. I am going to burn their world to the ground. They are going to have to shoot me dozens of times to bring me down!”

“What are you going to do Liz?” Mary May asked.

Elizabeth walked over to a wall on the other side of the room. On the wall, there was a large map that Eli had made, detailing Cult locations, bunkers, and military presence. She stuck a knife into it, right in the middle of a small island in the middle the Henbane River. “The Cult is going to give John Seed a funeral. They are smart…they picked an island out of the range of a sniper and they are going to guard every entrance. They will probably have boats patrolling the waters. I am going to crash their little get together and kill Faith, Jacob, and hopefully that prick Joseph as well.”

“How are going to get on that island then? If its that tightly guarded…”

“I am going to airdrop during the night and bypass all of that. I will carry everything I need.”

“Liz, if you airdrop, then there is a good chance that you won’t make it out.”

Elizabeth nodded her head. “Yes, I will probably die, but I am going to take out as many of them as I can before I do. I don’t expect you to understand, but this is personal now. I’m going to go John Wick on those heathens and destroy their entire existence! If I die, at least I will be their bogyman.”

Mary May stared at Elizabeth. Had she gone insane?

 

[Le Jones]

They just mix that natural American ruggedness with deranged religious lunacy.”

- Is that a motto, perhaps for a State or organisation?

“Let’s do this. Fuck em up!!”

- If this is not made a motto then someone (an Airborne or Marine formation) is seriously missing out.

Her head turned and she gazed the corpse of her old friend covered in his brains. None of this made sense to her. Not at all. He was a good commander, a family man with children. He loved eating Pizza, and invited Elizabeth all the time for game nights. He was even present at her wedding and was more than supportive when she took a few months off to raise William. Now he was dead by her hand. This was the first kill since her first that she felt truly disturbed at what she had just done. She raised her hands. They were shaking. She felt dirty, disgusting, and sick. She could always rationalize the deaths of terrorists and enemies of her country, but these were her countrymen. She was killing her own friends.

Very moving and well put. Nicely done.

 

[alex man142]

- Is that a motto, perhaps for a State or organisation?



- If this is not made a motto then someone (an Airborne or Marine formation) is seriously missing out.



Very moving and well put. Nicely done.

Thanks for the feedback!!

 

[alex man142]

It was a cold and dark night. Above her, the moon was barely visible, only occasionally peeking through the thick clouds. It was truly the perfect cover. She briefly looked down at her vest. Every single possible location was filled with a fully loaded magazine, totaling hundreds of rounds. She wasn’t expecting to make it out alive, but she would cause as much damage as she could before they brought her down. If by God’s grace she lived, then she would take it. If not, then hopefully she could send most of the Cult to hell.

“We are approaching the jump zone,” the pilot said. “Get ready.”

Elizabeth took a final look at her gear. She was ready. She placed a black baklava on her head, and put her helmet over it. She was now truly an angel of death, ready to smite her enemies with righteous fury.

“Jump!” The pilot signaled.

Without a moment of hesitation, she took the plunge into the darkness. The air was cold and bit her skin, but she didn’t care. All of her focus…all of her hate…every fiber of her existence was centered one thing and one thing only. Revenge. Revenge for her friends. Revenge for her losses. Revenge for herself.

The island soon came into view. It was a rather large island, the main anchor of the Whitetail National Park, or at least before the cult came. Now, it was right in the center of Eden’s Gate territory and the home to Joseph’s reclusive church. Even from the sky, Elizabeth could see the din of the massive cult gathering. Hundreds of vehicles were assembled, and there had to be thousands of them ready to pay their respects to their fallen hero John Seed. It would also be their doom. To avoid being spotted, she had prepared her landing spot well ahead of time. Once sufficiently low enough, she pulled her parachute and gently landed far from any human contact.

“I’ve landed,” Elizabeth said into the radio. “If I don’t come out, tell my husband that I love him. Tell my kids that mommy wished that she could be there for them.”

“I will Liz,” May May replied.

“Thank you. My God have mercy on us all.”

The Island was eerily quiet. The only movement came from skittish deer and the occasional raccoon. Only the trees stirred in the breeze. She moved silently through the woods, like a predator hunting it’s prey. Even if anyone tried, they probably wouldn’t be able to see her. She was dressed almost in pitch black, and every inch of her skin was covered in camouflage. She hugged the bushes and trees, stalking the Cult. She was ready to pounce at a moment’s notice if she was discovered.

It wasn’t hard to find where the Cult was. She didn’t even need a map. The music playing from the funeral echoed through the trees, bouncing off one another. Oh John! Bold and Brave! The congregation sang. He’s finding us a family, he’s teaching us the faith! Oh John keep us safe! He’s going to march us right through Eden’s Gate! Oh Lord! He’s going to march us right through Eden’s Gate! The entire Congregation was practically shouting the words to the song in a mixture of celebration and sadness. Even Elizabeth in her hate could still admire the quality of the music. It was catchy and upbeat. The band leading it were truly talented. It was a shame that they had to die.

“My Children!” Elizabeth heard. She gritted her teeth. It was Joseph Seed’s voice echoing through the forest as she neared her prey. “My brother is in heaven this very moment, looking down on us. He loved us. He cared for us. He wanted what was best for us. I was…am proud to call him my friend.” The crowd applauded loudly. “He was taken from us by a servant of the Devil. A truly evil person, perhaps more evil than us good folk can even comprehend. Her name is Elizabeth Chandler, the servant of evil itself!” The crowd booed upon the mention of her name. All she could do was chuckle. They would all be dead soon enough.

“She is evil itself. A snake in our garden! She is too evil to be left out there to corrupt us further. I want her alive so that she can atone in pain and suffering for all the corruption that she wrought on the world. She must pay. She will pay. She will kneel before us, enslaved, and she will confess her sins right here before me! If she doesn’t, I will keep taking what is dear to her. If that means her family, then so be the will of God above.”

Elizabeth clenched her teeth. Her mind was racing. Her heart beat furiously in her chest. She angrily crawled as far as she could before the light would illuminate her.

The area was paved in concrete, and at least a thousand congregants sat in set up chairs. Unlike usual, most were not armed. Perfect. Her eyes raced around, but she could not find Joseph—he was clearly speaking from off-site, and his speech was being broadcasted on large screens. She could find no trace of Jacob either, but in the front sat Faith Seed, adorned in a flowery white dress. It would have been trivial for her to take the shot and end her life, but that would be too easy. She wanted the Cult to fear her. She wanted them to hate her. She wanted to kill them all.

Her small thirty round magazine wouldn’t do the trick. She reached into her bag and pulled out a mammoth two-hundred round drum magazine and loaded it into her gun. There was not an innocent person there. Not one.

“There is none righteous, not even one;

There is none who understands,

There is none who seeks for God;

All have turned aside, together they have become useless;

There is none who does good,

There is not even one.”

“Their throat is an open grave,

With their tongues they keep deceiving,”

“The poison of asps is under their lips”;

“Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness”;

“Their feet are swift to shed blood,

Destruction and misery are in their paths,

And the path of peace they have not known.”

“There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

They were all terrorists. They all had to die. Women, children, men. None of that mattered. All that mattered was the bullet that would soon tear their flesh. Elizabeth took a deep breath and opened fire.

The congregation rose to a panic, but it was too late. Dozens of congregants were mowed down. When Elizabeth expended her first drum mag, she loaded a second and continued to fire. Hundreds of people were dead or injured, and those that survived crawled around in agony, sitting in puddles of blood and urine.

Elizabeth didn’t wait. She rose to her feet and loaded a thirty rounder into her gun. Anyone that was still alive was mowed down without a moment of thought. She walked down the central hall, gunning anything that tried to get away, but her thoughts were fixated one person.

Faith had been shot in the original blast, and was desperately crawling away. A trail of her blood emanated from her wounds. “Please don’t kill me! Please….”

Elizabeth didn’t let her finish before shooting Faith right in her head, killing her instantly. Behind her, she saw the lights of Cult cars speeding down the roads, full of Chosen. Jacob had to be there. He would die as well.

Let’s dance motherfucker!!

 

[alex man142]

Hey all! Sorry for taking my sweet time with this! I'm actually working on a massive book set in my own world. I'm agonizing over every word, so that's taking up the bulk of my free-time. I will still finish the saga of Elizabeth Chandler though, so stay tuned! I'm almost halfway to be finished. I don't mean that in word or page count, but in the narrative itself. This will begin to breeze by soon enough.

 

[alex man142]

The Chosen descended upon the massacre in a mad rush, guns ready to take down their biggest enemy. Each one was covered in thick animal furs, their faces covered in dark masks meant to terrify anyone they came into contact with. They did not scare her. The huntress was ready. The first few made the mistake of entering from the front and not in cover. Three were gunned down in as many shots. The others did not make the same mistake, finding whatever cover they could. They fired numerous shots into her direction, pinning her down as others used the opportunity to move around to try and get to where she located.

“Come out Nomad!” Jacob screamed. His voice cracked with fury and agony at the carnage that had unfolded. So much death. So much blood.

She had planned for this. She threw a pair of smoke grenades over the cover in front of her, obscuring the numerous firing lines the Chosen were using. They did not let up their fire. Bullets scythed around her, ripping into the metal stands, but she managed to crawl away into the woods. By the time the smoke had cleared, she was gone. She was only moments away from being completely overrun.

“She couldn’t have gone far!” Jacob yelled. He was visibly trembling. “My God, what did we do to deserve this?” Mothers lay dead, clutching their children. Old men died in the arms of their wives. Children had been cut down right in the prime of their lives. “Get her!”

The Huntress sprinted away. Cult helicopters buzzed above her, shining spotlights into the forest. Dogs sprinted madly, clearly onto her trail. It was only a matter of time before she was found, but she wasn’t done yet. She would not rest until Jacob Seed, her old commander, laid dead in the dirt. The man who had killed Weaver, the man who turned Rubio, the source of all her woe. She was being hunted, but she would hunt them down in return. Her entire purpose…her entire existence… was dedicated to death.

“Elizabeth!” Came the crackle of her in-ear. “What the fuck did you do? The fuck?!”

“What is it Mary May?” Elizabeth asked. She had come to the edge of the Henbane River. She could easily swim the distance to the mainland, but there was plenty of mud at the riverbank. Perfect to hide herself.

“What did you do?!”

“I did what I had to do,” she said, laying in the mud and rolling in it, covering her entire body.

“The entire fucking Cult is going apeshit right now. I’ve never seen so many fucking Peggies in the sky. They’re all going mad about a massacre….did you…kill them?”

“I did what I had to do.”

“Jesus Christ Liz, you killed the people at the funeral?!”

“So long May,” Elizabeth said. Mary May tried to interject, but Elizabeth cut the radio line.

In the distance and through the fog the Chosen came, fanning the forest in a line. Elizabeth crawled over to a small hole and covered herself with leaves and branches. They walked right by her, none the wiser. She heard them talking. Jacob was still here. She had killed over two hundred people. They surmised that she had taken the plunge across the Henbane and were now asking for air support to scan the entire length of the river. Perfect. Jacob would meet the end of her bullet.

She crawled glacially slow, stopping whenever someone got close or a helicopter passed overhead, yet she was focused. Unnervingly so. Her senses were tuned and heightened. Every voice. Every little movement. She heard it all. She felt it all in her gut. She hadn’t felt this way since her first Ghost mission in Russia. She was scared back then, but she wasn’t now. She was too angry to be frightened. Too driven to be scared. The only thing that would separate her from revenge was a swarm of Cult bullets shattering her skull an piercing her brain. Nothing less than that would suffice. She continued her crawl, unseen and unheard, covering head to toe in dripping wet mud.

There he was. Jacob was standing there in the middle of it all, alone oddly enough. He knelt next to a woman, younger than him, holding a dead child in her arms. For the first time in her life, she saw him begin to cry ever so softly. What that his wife? Even it was, she didn’t feel a pang of her normal empathy. She aimed her rifle, his head lined right in the middle of her scope. It would be an easy kill. Too easy. Almost unfair. He would get off far too easily. She aimed for his leg and took the shot, sweeping him off of his feet in onto the ground.

“Nomad!” He groaned, tightly gripping his bleeding leg.

“I’m here,” she hissed. She didn’t look human anymore. Nothing but brown mud was visible from head to toe, and her face was covered in a baklava and night vision goggles.

“She was my wife!”

“He was my friend!” She shouted back. “They were my friends! And you took them from me!”

“Is that was made you so mad as to kill all these innocent people?!”

Elizabeth shook her head. “None of you are innocent. All of you are guilty,” she seethed. “You all will die. Women. Children. I don’t give a fuck. All of you will burn in hell. I don’t care. God will sort you out in the sky. I’m just the sword of His wrath.”

“You know,” he laughed painfully, coughing up some blood, “you are turning into us! Ironic really. We’ve changed you, just as Joseph predicted would happen. We claim to be God’s wrath, just like you. You will come to us soon enough. It was bound to happen…”

She heard no more. She raised her rifle and shot in multiple times in the chest. Before the Cult could arrive, she melted back into the forest.

 

[alex man142]

(Ugh I hate overtime. Sorry for the shorter chapter. I would have normally put this at the start of a longer one but well, time is short!)

Elizabeth sat all by her lonesome in the middle of the Spread Eagle bar. The bar was half full, but nobody even dared to step anywhere near where she was. Maybe it was fear. Maybe disgust. Perhaps both. Many people had lost family in her attack on that funeral, and there was hardly a person in the Hope County valley that didn’t lose either a loved one or a friend. It was certainly without doubt that the Cult had taken a major beating, losing two of its lieutenants in one fell swoop, but at what cost? Had the militia turned into the very thing they feared? Whatever the case, Elizabeth sat there, focused entirely on loading bullets into her empty magazines.

Mary May dared to break the silence. “Um Liz?” She asked, carefully stepping over to the warrior. “Are you…ok?”

Elizabeth turned her head and glared at Mary May, with a look that was not entirely human. “Yes.”

“Do you want anything?”

“No,” Elizabeth replied, going back to loading her magazines.

“If you need anything,” Mary May said, backing away, “just shoot me a holler.”

“Ok.”

Truth be told, Elizabeth didn’t know how to feel, if she felt anything at all. She had just killed over two-hundred people at a funeral and she felt nothing. They were terrorists, she thought. Enemies of the state, people who want to nuke the entire globe and send us careening over the edge. Of course they had to die. They all have to die. If not for Rubio, then for the entire planet that we live on.

Slowly but surely, the bar began to empty of patrons as the night drew on. Eventually, it was Elizabeth, all by herself, just sitting there on the couch, staring blankly into the now empty room. Mary May wanted to leave and close up the bar for the night, but she was deathly afraid of disturbing Elizabeth. So she just sat there and waited. Eventually, Mary May fell asleep on the bar.

Elizabeth herself was getting tired and was ready to go upstairs to her room. She grabbed a box now full of loaded magazines and made her way up the stairs. Her phone began to ring, and oddity since signal was awful in the valley. She pulled her phone from her pocket and inspected the number with a confused gaze. It was no number that she had ever seen, but curiosity compelled her to answer it. “Hello?” She inquired, not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

“I was blind…” came an ominous voice on the other end. “But now I see.”

Elizaebeth dropped the box she was carrying. Magazines spilled down the steps and onto the floor below. “Joseph!” She hissed, where are you?!”

“You…you took my family away from me so that I could have yours. We will welcome them with open arms. Just as we will welcome you. We will be waiting for you, Elizabeth. Where it all began.”

“Show yourself!” Elizabeth screamed. “I will hunt you down you sick fuck!”

“I thought I knew God’s plan,” he said. Elizabeth could hear his silent sobs over the phone. “But I was wrong. My brothers…my sisters they were taken from me! By you! A snake in the garden! Enough is enough! Meet me, face to face, and we will settle this, once and for all, Elizabeth Chandler. Meet me.”

 

[alex man142]

Elizabeth drove up to the church compound that she was sent to all those weeks ago when she first arrived in Montana. Unlike the last time, the compound was absolutely empty. No guards, no worshipers, and no cult chosen here at all. The forest swayed in the midday wind. Not a sound aside from crickets and the occasional call of an elk was heard. It was ominous in all the wrong ways, but she didn’t care at all. She recklessly sped down the dirt road, slid it to the a stop next to the compound wall, and turned the car off. She grabbed her rifle from the backseat, loaded a magazine into it, and slammed the door behind her.

“Joseph!” She shrieked. Her voice echoed through the trees and valley. “Come out you coward!”

The front metal gate groaned and heaved open, its rusty hinges squealing like nails on a chalkboard. Joseph Seed walked out of the gate with his arms at his side, wearing no shirt at all. Elizabeth could see his tattered body, marked with the scars of countless needles and hastily done tattoos. His chest was covered in ugly spots where his flesh had once been torn off. He stared up at the sky and raised his hands towards heaven.

“And the lamb broke the fifth seal,” he began, “ and I saw under the alter the souls of the martyrs, slain because of the word of God.” He began to walk closer to Elizabeth. She pointed his gun at him but didn’t fire. “You made martyrs of my family, and I am prepared to do the same to yours.”

Elizabeth surged forward and grabbed him, pinning him with a thud against the church wall. “If you so much as touch my family, I will chop your balls off and feed them to the goats!”

Joseph made no effort to resist. “No, you misunderstand me. I have no intention of hurting them myself. That is for God to do. God will make martyrs of this world, and everyone in it, including your family. They will perish by His wrath.”

She slammed him to the ground with her fist. “What are you talking about?!”

“The fire,” he said, pulling an item from his pocket. “This, Elizabeth, is they key to the end of the world. If you kill me, it triggers. If I press it, it triggers.”

Elizabeth stepped back cautiously. It was a little object, almost looking like of one of those electric shock button gags. “You’re bluffing.”

“No,” he said. “God is watching us. And He will judge us on what we choose in this moment. I told you that we were living in a world on the brink, where every slight, every injustice, where every choice reveals our sins. And where have those sins led us? Where have those sins led you? Your friends are all dead, tortured brainwashed, and its all your fault. Your husband and children will die soon in fire, and it’s all your fault. You have murdered countless innocents and wiped out entire families. It’s all your fault. The world is on fire, and its your fault! Was it worth it? Was it? When are going to realize that every problem can’t be solved with a bullet?”

“Shut up!” She roared. She pointed her rifle right as his chest.

He ignored her, instead walking towards a barrel. “When you first came here, I gave you the choice to walk away. You chose not to. You chose to fight. I swear on God, I am making you that offer one last time. Put down your gun. Leave here! You leave me my flock, and you go in peace.”

“Go in peace?” She snorted. “You’re fucking insane!”

“Remember,” he said, raising his arms once again to heaven. “God is watching.”

Elizabeth mulled it over for a second, but she knew what she had to do. She laid her rifle on the ground and turned away. “You’re right Joseph, you win. I was wrong. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do Elizabeth,” he replied somberly. “I do. I forgive you for killing my family and for killing many of my children. I can only hope that God can forgive you of your sin as well.”

“I hope he does.”

“Go in peace Elizabeth. Go to your family and get them to safety. I give you this time as grace.”

“Thank you Joseph.”

She walked away briefly, but she began to slowly move her hand towards her holster. When she caught him not in focus, she reeled around and shot the detonator out of his hands. She sprinted after him and tackled him to the ground, easily subduing him and tying his hands together with a pair of plastic cable ties.

“Liar!” He shouted. “Deceiver!”

“Did you really think I would let you go that easily?” She laughed. “Oh no, I am going to torture you. I will cut your limbs off once by one, then feed them to animals in front of you. I am going to flay your fingers as you scream for mercy. You will wish for death, but I won’t let you die. No. You have to pay for what you have done to me! You will pay for what you did to Rubio! I swear that you will suffer so much pain that you will choke on it! I am going to kill you!”

Oddly enough, he seemed rather composed, almost like he expected such an action. “Every slight. Every injustice, and every choice, reveals our sin. John was wrong. Your sin is not wrath. You would rather watch the world suffer and burn than swallow your pride!”

“Oh, I’m not going to watch anything burn but you Joseph. You are going to wish that you never met me. I am an angel of death, and I am going to make you suffer.”

Suddenly, Elizabeth felt something rumbling under her. Two arrows sailed right beyond her and penetrated the barrels, causing them to explode and knock her back. Large quantities of bliss seeped into the air. “And the lamb broke the sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earthquake! And the sun became black! And the moon turned to blood!!”

The drugs immediately had their effect on her.

 

[alex man142]

Elizabeth opened her eyes and the entire world was dark. Her vision was obscured by what appeared to be thick black smoke emanating from the earth. Fucking drugs! She thought. She stumbled to her feet, but she struggled to find her balance. The entire world appeared to be wobbling to and fro, shaking up down as if it was an earthquake, but she knew it wasn’t real. She sprinted over to the church wall and steadied her hands on its white siding walls. Her entire body felt light, almost as if she was floating away. The bliss had totally taken her over.

“Elizabeth,” Joseph mocked. “The bliss doing a number on you I see?”

“Fuck you!” She screamed. She reached down her leg and pulled a knife. Elizabeth sprinted him at full speed and stabbed him, but he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “What the?”

“You’re going to have do better than that Mrs. Chandler,” he said. “God is in my side. I can’t say the same thing about you.”

“Stop hiding you piece of shit! What kind of coward are you?”

“You judge me Elizabeth,” he said from the shadows. “You judge us. The things we’ve done. People say that I’m crazy, but when you make up in the morning, you look at the same news that I do. Do your eyes not fill with horror?”

Joseph was toying with her. He would pop out of nowhere, and Elizabeth would continue to chase him. She was incoherently following him, her mind drugged up to high heaven. “Shut up!” She yelled.

“Do your eyes not fill with fear?” He asked after disappearing into yet another puff of smoke. “This is the world?! This? This is the world we built for our children? Communities being torn apart? Walls being erected? Because leaders are to impotent to act. Bullies are too addled to lead righteously.”

“Show yourself!” She was slowly being led out the compound and back towards the main road.

“I did not ask for this, Elizabeth. I was chosen. Do you think I signed up to have my entire family taken from me? I want to do nothing more than to kill you, right now.”

“Then kill me!!” She shrieked.

“No. Everything is coming to an end. You can feel that, I know you can. See how mankind is weak and vulnerable! And we are hurdling towards our destruction and nobody is willing to do anything about it! I can see that! You can see. But we are not crazy. So what are we supposed to do? We just sit back and wait the inevitable? No.”

Elizabeth tripped over her own legs and fell onto the asphalt pavement after trying to lunge at him. He gently walked over to her and lifted her face from the dirt. “Get away!”

“I do not claim to be a perfect man, Elizabeth, but I saw what was coming, and I chose to act. To lead. Because society is broken. We chop off our genitals and pretend to be women. We murder millions of innocent children at the altar of convenience. We throw away thousands of years of normality and let men marry men and women marry women. Has the end times not come? Have we not descended farther way from the Light of God? Elizabeth, I know you are a believer. I know you are. I know your church. I know your family. You know all these things to be true.”

With the last energy in her muscles, she tried to grab him one final time. He gently gripped her arm and laid it on his knee.

“The only way forward is to go back to the way things once were. Innocent and pure. So safe and protected in our garden. I can save you. But you have to have faith.”

“Fuck you!” She wheezed in response.

“So beautiful,” he said, shaking his head. “Yet so full of anger. I give you every chance to repent and you spit in my face every time. I want to kill you, but I hold back my lusts because God told me to. You are worth more to Him alive than you ever can be dead.”

Elizabeth rolled over onto her back, frantically gasping for air.

“Let me let you into a little secret,” he said, kneeling next to her. “The time is now. The end is here. The seals have been broken, and you were the catalyst. You are the anti-christ, sent by God to destroy the Church of God and to try and break it. You failed. You tried, driven by what you claimed was right, but you failed. But God will show that not even His most driven enemy is beyond His saving mercy, but you have to choose it for yourself. I cannot make you, nor will I. That is between you and God. Men, give her some oxygen please.”

Several of the Cult Chosen emerged from the shadows and placed a small container of oxygen over her mouth. “Shall we bring her in, Father? To the bunker?”

Joseph shook his head. “No. She will have to make that call for herself. Give me the radio.”

“Yes Father.”

The Chosen reached into his bag and pulled out a small radio receiver. He turned it on, and Joseph grabbed it. “Children of God, the Collapse is upon us. It is time. Show the world the true nature of God’s fury. Go to your bunkers. We will ride out this storm, but I have work to do here. Just know that I am safe, and I will join everyone shortly. Until then, God will keep us safe.”

In the distance, a set of missiles launched into the sky.

 

[alex man142]

Andrew Chandler stared longingly at his phone. In his mind, Elizabeth was the most attractive person he had ever seen. He could stare at photos he had of her all day and never get tired. She was that that beautiful to him. As he stared, his daughter Sarah sprinted down the stairs and lept onto the cough right next to her father.

“Hey daddy,” she said.

“Sarah,” he replied, holding her hand. “Need anything?”

“Is mommy coming home today?”

Andrew’s heart shattered once again. “I’m not sure Sarah, but I know that she’ll be back soon.”

“How do you know?”

“I talked with her,” he lied. “She can’t tell me when, but she told me that she is coming home very soon.”

“You said that last week,” she pointed out.

“I know,” he answered, hugging her tightly. “She loves you very, very much. I promise you that she’ll be home.”

“Alright daddy,” Sarah said, the answer seemingly satisfying her. She ran back up the stairs and into her room.

Andrew leaned back in the chair and took a dramatic sigh. Truth be told, he had no idea where his wife was. She said she was going to Montana for work, so he assumed she meant filming a scene or something. Despite all of his best efforts, he couldn’t contact her, and it had been three weeks since he last saw her. He tried whatsapp, messenger, and even Dmed her on Instagram, all to no avail. It was like she had fallen off the edge of the earth or something. He worried constantly. He wondered for most of the day if she was alright. The last thing he needed was for her to get hurt.

He turned on the TV. The news was not helping his anxiety. Russia had long been beaten back in Poland, and NATO forces were steadily pushing them back. In China, several warlords had consolidated their positions and were going toe to toe with the Indian army. Millions of people had already been killed, and the war was frantic and bloody. Horrific atrocities were committed daily. On the news, the broadcaster was reporting with great horror the firebombing of the city of Nanning, which had killed hundreds of thousands of people. It almost seemed as if the world was coming apart at the seams, and there was little, if anything, that could be done about it. The world was falling into the flames.

The doorbell suddenly rang, jolting Andrew up. He sniffled silently as he walked towards the door and opened it. There was Andrea, Rubio’s wife.

“Hi Andrew,” she said cheerfully. Andrew could sense underneath her veneer was a cloud of sadness. “May I come in?”

“Anything for you,” he nodded, pointing his hand into his living room. “Make yourself at home.”

Andrea walked into the kitchen and leaned herself onto the island. “Anything from Liz?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It’s been three weeks and I’ve heard nothing from her. Not a peep. Not an update. Truth be told, I’m getting worried. Have you heard from Rubio?”

“No,” she said, biting her lip.

“Damn,” Andrew said.

“I just can’t help but think that they are both in trouble somehow. I feel it.”

Andrew grabbed the back of his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Liz quit active duty. Why would she be with Rubio?”

She sighed. “I don’t know Andrew. I don’t know. But he’s been gone for six weeks just like Liz and without a word. That’s so unlike both of them. They have to be trouble somehow. They just have to be.”

Andrew clenched his fist. Did she lie to her? The news broadcast was always playing some horrific tragedy, with people dying and bombs falling. What if Elizabeth lied to keep him out of worry. No, he figured. She wouldn’t lie to him. She never did. If there was one thing she was good at, it was telling the truth, exactly how it was without any embellishment.

“I think they’re fine,” he smiled faintly. “If they are together, which I doubt, then they are even safer.”

“I’m just worried about the kids,” she confessed. “So much time without dad. I’m struggling to keep up the façade that I put up. It’s hard to act like everything is fine when the world if coming apart right next to us.”

“Oh I know,” he nodded in agreement. “I feel the same way. I just take comfort in the fact that the war is there and not here. It’s not like…”

The television screen flickered, then played the most horrific and loud siren Andrew’s ears had ever heard. He knew that sound. He knew it cold.

It was a nuclear alarm.

This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill! Nuclear warheads have been launched. Nuclear warheads have been launched! Get to safety now!

“Oh my God,” Andrea covered her mouth. “Oh my God!”

“Fuck,” Andrew cursed. “Fuck, Sarah! Emily!” He yelled. “Andrea, get your kids and run to my basement! There’s an old bunker there. Hurry!!!”

Andrea sprinted out towards her house. Andrew run up the stairs.

“Daddy,” his little daughter Emily asked. “What’s that noise?”

He scooped her up. “Sarah! William! Basement, now!!”

William sprinted from his room. He could tell something was wrong. Very wrong. He didn’t say a word as he complied with his father’s orders. Sarah grabbed Emily and took her down to the basement as well. Andrew ran into his bedroom and into Elizabeth’s gun safe. He grabbed as many guns as he could and stuffed her ammo into a backpack. Andrea burst into the home with her four children, and met Andrew in the basement.

He pushed aside an old bookcase, revealing an old 1950s style bunker that had been built into the home long ago. He opened the iron door, led everyone into the bunker, and closed it up. It was well stocked, considering Elizabeth was rather paranoid about things like that.

The two families huddled together as the distant rumble of the end of the world reverberated through the basement.

 

[alex man142]

Elizabeth’s head was throbbing violently, and she was barely able to raise herself to her feet. Her vision was faded, and the entire world was covered in a gaudy green that amplified every color. Joseph appeared right in-front of her, but he disappeared into a puff of smoke as she awkwardly lunged after him. “Gotta do better than that Liz,” he taunted her. “Gotta move faster!”

She didn’t reply, only following him until she could not walk no farther. “Andrew…” she whispered. “Forgive me.”

Joseph calmly strolled over to her. “I can give you peace, I can give you joy, I can make you whole again. All you have to do is have faith. You are in the Bliss, but you keep fighting it. Why? Why fight? If you want to see the way the world really is right now, I can. You’ll find me at the end of the path. Come after me if you like.” He held his hand right infront of her face. “Now, the real,” he said, snapping his fingers.

Suddenly, Elizabeth opened her eyes to horror. She was leaning back against a tree with a rifle in her hands. In the distance, several large mushroom clouds were pummeling Malmstrom Airbase and the surrounding towns. Tens of thousands of birds were fleeing, almost blotting out the sun in their desperation. Air raid sirens blared their horrid tune, causing her to recoil in pain as the high pitched shrieks blasted her eardrums. Animals were running all over the road to get away from the ominous heat.

“Andrew!” Elizabeth screamed in vain. “William! Sarah! Emily!” She sprinted around frantically, desperate for any sign of them.

“It’s no use,” came a voice. It came from a radio that had been left on the ground close to her. “They are dead, just like the world.”

“Fuck you!” Elizabeth shrieked. Tears were streaming down her eyes and onto the floor. “Fuck you!!!”

“You want to find me? I’m right at the end of the trail in the small bunker. Hunt me down, huntress. Strike me down like the angel of death you are.”

Memories of her family streamed through her mind. She remembered the joy that she felt when William was born. She remembered Sarah’s first words. She recalled the love and goofiness that her toddler Emily brought to her family. She recalled the smile that Andrew had on his face as she walked down the aisle next to her father. She reminisced about all the dinners she cooked, all the restaurants they visited, and all the laughter that they shared. All of it was now snuffed out. Her family…her legacy…her quiver, they were gone. Wiped out in nuclear fire. They were probably out and about in Fayetteville, and there was no way that Fort Bragg didn’t get cratered. Not even their bunker would be able to hold against a direct hit.

“I am going to find you!” She screamed. “And I will kill you! You piece of shit! You’re dead you hear me?! You and your fucking cult! I don’t care if I die! I have nothing left to lose!”

“Oh but you do,” Joseph replied over the radio. “You don’t know it yet. You have everything to gain. Come Elizabeth. Come.”

With her rifle in her hand, she sprinted down the gravel trail. Another bomb exploded, this time far closer than the other ones, sending trees falling and whipping in the blast. She kept going. Another bomb fell, this time even closer. She could feel the heat on her arm. She kept moving. The trees caught on fire, and a deer ran right in front of her, totally covered in flames. There was nothing left in her but hatred and vengeance. She wanted to do nothing more than to kill the man who had brought her so much pain and woe these last few weeks. She had nothing left to lose now. Nothing.

There it was, a small shack at the end of the trail, nestled in some rocks. There were two cult soldiers there ushering some people inside. Elizabeth shot them dead. Shouts came from inside the bunker, and she pressed forward and down the stairs. There was a small iron door at the bottom. A cult member tried to shut it, but she shot her in the head and dropped her to the floor. Outside, a bomb fell almost right next to the bunker and caused her to temporarily stumble to her feet.

“I am an angel of death!” She shouted. “I am a harbinger of justice, and today, will burn in the lake of fire! May God fuck your soul!” A final cult member, a younger teenage girl, ran out towards Elizabeth but she mercilessly shot her dead. “Joseph!” She roared. “Where are you!”

“Over here,” he said, his voice echoing down the hall of the small bunker.

Her heart was racing with anticipation. She walked menacingly down the hall, mowing down a few cult members who begged for their lives on the floor. She turned the corner and into a small concrete room. Joseph was there, standing towards her. Before she could shoot him, the room filled with green gas and she crumbled to the floor.

Elizabeth finally regained consciousness. Her mouth was dry, and her stomach groaned. She tried to move, but her hands were chained to a table. She tried to break free, but the shackles were too tight. She lifted her eyes and saw Joseph standing there, facing the wall and muttering a quiet prayer.

“You know what this means?” He asked, turning his head. “It means the politicians have been silenced. It means the corporations have been erased. It means the world has been cleansed by God’s righteous fire.” He leaned right into her face. “Most of all,” he said, stroking her cheek, “it means I was right. The Collapse has come. The world, as we know it, is over. I waited so long. I waited so long for the prophesy that God whispered in my ear to be fulfilled. I prepared my family for this moment, and you took them from me. I should kill you for what you’ve done, but you are all I have left now. You’re my family now. And when the world is ready to be born again, we will step into the light. I am your father, and you are my child. And together, we will march to Eden’s Gate.”

Chills went down Elizabeth’s spine. He stood up and walked backwards towards the wall. She could faintly hear the Cult members singing as the world ended above her. She saw his tattoos. Pride, anger, sloth, envy, gluttony, greed…had all been tattooed onto his body and were crudely scratched over. She saw his manhood bulging into his tight trousers, and realized that lust was still there and not marked off.

When the sky has cleared
And the storm has passed
We'll walk arm in arm
Down our promised path

We'll watch the sun come up
From its bed of black
We'll enter Eden's Garden
And never look back

Oh Lord, the great collapse
Won't be our end
When the world falls into the flames
We will rise again
We will rise again

 

[alex man142]

So ends phase 2! One thing that really shocked me about Far Cry 5, and I still think about, is just how nihilistic the ending is. I wanted to make it even darker. Elizabeth ends this part totally broken and ruined, having done some terrible things in her quest for vengeance for what she has lost. Will she be redeemed in the end? I sure hope so. I will begin writing Phase 3 shortly. I hope everyone is enjoying this so far!

PS: Just thought about this. Yes, that ending is really really dark, and I'm sorry if it was too dark. I had to end it that way. I just had to for the vision for what I'm going for. Please accept my humble apologies if this hurt anyone in any way or anything. I know the topic can be rough for a lot of people.

 

[alex man142]

The air was cold and thick. Above, the thick clouds covered any light from the moon, casting the landscape in an ominous and depressing darkness. A cool breeze permeated the forest, lightly rustling the leaves. Aside from the occasional majestic call of the elk herds that lived in the area, all was silent and calm. The odd skittish racoon or squirrel sprinted to and fro. A normal person would perhaps jump as they ran by, but this soldier wasn’t scared. He couldn’t be scared.

He was a Ghost.

The Ghost gently flicked his two fingers forward and his squad obeyed his command and surged forward silently though the brush. They were covered in head to toe with the finest gear in the post-apocalyptic world. The darkness was nothing to them and a few odd squirrels didn’t make them jump. They were hardened, having spent the last seventeen years fighting the worst the world had thrown their way, all in an effort to rebuilt the shattered country. They fought gangs of cannibals, rapist biker gangs, oil slavers, cartel empires, and more. It was never easy, and they were usually outnumbered, but they were never out-gunned, and as Ghosts always do, they came out on top each and every time.

“Griffin,” he whispered. “We are the site.”

The view certainly was majestic. In the far distance was a rather sizable looking city, its dim lights visible for miles from the mountain they were on.

“Good work Whiplash,” Scott Mitchell answered. “See anything in the area?”

“Negative Griffin,” Whiplash responded, scanning the area with his night vision binoculars. “Nothing. We should have a clean trip all the way to New Eden.”

“Bring that fuck in boys,” Scott said with rage in his tone. “Bring us his head. For our country.”

The Ghost silenced his radio and called his squad together. “Red team, you will fan left down the hill and down the old road. Blue team will come with me straight through the forest. Orange team will guard our exfil location. Remember, the target must die today.”

The leader of Red Team clenched his fist. “Joseph Seed will pay for what he did.”

“He will Carnivore,” Whiplash said, “but be wary. This cult took down an entire team of Ghosts, including Nomad herself. They’re dangerous.”

“We’ve fought oil slavers who rape people as they flay them alive,” Carnivore scoffed. “We can handle some yahoos who played their card already.”

“Just be careful.”

Whiplash thought about the briefings he had before he went on the mission. The Cult had set off strategically placed nukes around the world causing every nation to launch their own in the chaos. That was known. What wasn’t known was that they managed to kill an entire unit of then Ghosts. Even Elizabeth Chandler, the first and only female Ghost, the one who killed Al Baghdadi and captured El Sueno, died at their hands. As the Red Team left the rocky mountain and towards the road, Whiplash couldn’t help bit feel a tinge of anxiety. Not even the Oil Slavers of the south west could claim to have killed a Ghost. The Cult had killed ten. Since the bombs fell, they had carved an empire out of Montana and Western Canada, killing all in their path and creating their own theocracy out of the ruins of the west. Surviving refugees were forced to submit to the Father, or be killed outright, often in horrific ritual crucifixion. Survivors even reported a masked killer who moved through the forests faster than any animal, who could slaughter entire towns without barely lifting a finger. While that part was certainly paranoia, the stuff of propaganda and superstition, the Cult was dangerous and had to be taken out one way or the other.

The government left them alone at first, but now that the Reclamation Project was at hand, all the gangs, nations, and tribes in the heartland had to be pacified. The government even offered the Cult entrance back to the nation as their own autonomous state, provided that they allow government soldiers and officials free access to their land and give up Joseph Seed, but they refused, sending back the heads of the delegates. If the Cult wanted to play with fire, then they would get fire. A team of ten Ghosts were sent to capture the madman and bring him alive to be executed for many crimes. It would poetic for a team Ghosts to capture him, considering that his men had killed ten of their own. Elizabeth was still held in high esteem, and getting revenge for her would be the icing on the cake of the tight knit unit.

“Carnivore, how’s it looking on the road?”

“It’s oddly in good shape,” he replied. “The lines were re-painted and the holes have been patched up. We’re staying in the woods because cars definitely come through here.”

“Copy.”

For Whiplash, the trip was far harder than hugging to a road. Despite getting a near direct hit from several bombs, Hope County was lush and green. Trees and flowers bloomed constantly, and even in the darkness, Whiplash could see their magnificent coloring. The brush was thick, and his three other men had to constantly step over streams of pure blue water, thick bushes, and undergrowth. It was not easy, especially since the world was covered in the green haze of their night vision goggles.

“You know Whiplash,” Carnivore whispered over the radio. “You can join us over here. I hear you struggling.”

“Negative.”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Whiplash seethed. “Carnivore,” he whispered harshly. “Now is not the time to joke around. Keep focused on the mission and shut the fuck up.”

“Whatever you say boss.”

Whiplash reached his forward staging point after an hour or so of hiking. There was still plenty of darkness and for once, he was thankful that the moon gave off no light. Every landmark that was on his map was there right where his briefing said it would be, and they had not been discovered. Everything was going as perfectly as it could have.

“Carnivore,” Whiplash said. They had a far easier path and should have been waiting for a while now. “Come in. Are you at your location.”

Silence.

“Repeat, are you at your location?”

Silence.

“Boss, what’s the matter?” One of his men asked.

“I don’t know,” Whiplash confessed. “This has to be some sort of joke. I’m going to kill that fucker when I see him. “Carnivore, come the fuck in! This is not the time to be joking!”

Silence.

“Griffin, this is Whiplash, can you confirm that Red Team’s radios are on? We are hearing nothing on our end.”

“They are on Whiplash,” Scott said. “Carnivore, cut the shit and get back on the line!”

Nothing.

“Griffin,” Whiplash said after a few moments of silence, “this is odd. I’m going to head to their staging point and see if there’s anything I can find. Perhaps their radio just stopped working or they changed frequencies. I’d think they’d be smarter, but we all make mistakes sometimes.”

“Stay save Whiplash.”

“Greyfox, you come with me. Marshal and Darius, you stay here.”

The forests slowly gave way to cleared farms. Thankfully, there were no cult civilians anywhere and the fields of wheat and white flowers provided excellent cover. When a car did drive by, the Ghosts ducked into the trees and waited until it came by. They soon reached a major road, crossed it quickly, and hiked up a small forested hill where Red Team was supposed to be staging at.

“Red Team, its Whiplash!” He whispered loudly. “Coming up!” He made his way up the hilly outcrop and came across a scene of horror. “My God!” He cried. All four members of the squad were dead, their bodies crudely crucified and stapled onto the bark of trees. Their eyes had been gouged out, and their clothes stripped from their body. Blood oozed from numerous slash wounds. There were little signs of a protracted struggle, and whatever happened occurred not long ago, and quickly. A message had been left, cut into Carnivore’s stomach.

Go Home Ghosts

“Griffin!” Whiplash said frantically. “Fuck fuck fuck we’ve been made.”

“What?!”

“Their dead, all of them!”

“Slow down man! What the fuck is going on?”

Whiplash grabbed one of the bodies and tried desperately to revive Carnivore. It was in vain. “Griffin, they know we are here. Blue team, call off the mission! They left a message. We’ve been made!”

Silence.

“Come in!”

Again, the hill filled with the endless static of silence.

“Darius, come in!”

“Darius here.”

“The mission is off, get to the exfil spot at once, they know we’re here.”

“What do you…what the fuck is that? Oh my….”

The sounds of screaming filled the radio, and Whiplash heard numerous gunshots echo through the valley. One by one, they died down, and soon, there was nothing but peace and calm once again. Whiplash fell to his knees and a tear wetted his Baklava. He knew that they were dead. No doubt about it.

“Darius!”

“Whiplash, this is Griffin, what the hell is going on out there?”

For the first time in ages, Whiplash was afraid. Very afraid,. His heart thumped violently in his chest and he had to sit down to compose himself. “Griffin, I’m getting nothing. There is something out there hunting us! They’re dead damnit. Dead!”

“Whiplash,” Griffin said sternly. “Calm the hell down. Get what’s left back to the exfil point. Move slowly man. Back to back. You’re a Ghost. Act like it.”

“Act like it, got it,” Whiplash muttered, trying to calm himself. “Alright Greyfox, get to my back, we get out of here step by step and by the numbers. Alright?!”

Greyfox nodded in agreement. He was calm, but Whiplash could sense the uncertainty in his body language. Both Ghosts slowly climbed their way back down the outcrop with their backs against each other, slowly circling around and looking for any threat that might be stalking them. Every single bird that flew away caused Whiplash’s heart to race, and every squirrel that ran through the trees caused him to jump. There was something, or many things, out there that knew that the Ghosts were there. They were hunted. Every tree could be hiding an assassin. It was terrifying.

“Stay calm Whiplash,” Greyfox said, his rifle pointed high as they slowly circled around. “We need to be ready.”

They made it a good distance through the woods, but they were moving slowly. An Elk gave its majestic call. Right when Whiplash had grown somewhat calm, he heard something move inhumanly fast sprint by. It moved through the brush, barely making a sound, but he could feel it zip by.

“What was that?” Whiplash jolted.

“Probably a racoon,” Greyfox figured.

The pair continued, but soon, the noise came again, this time closer. Both men froze. “Whose there!” Whiplash shouted. His hands were shaking. The trees and bushes around them rustled furiously. Greyfox panicked and fired a few rounds into the trees.

Then, it showed itself. A knife flew through the air and impaled Greyfox right in the back of his head, killing him instantly. Stunned, Whiplash turned around and saw the most hideous thing he had ever seen his eyes. A human was standing right there glaring at him, but it was covered in head to toe with thick furs and a brown animal skin suit. It’s hair was covered in a brown mask, and its face…its face was hidden with a pale white mask…the mask of death. It had no guns, only a misformed machete that it held in its right hand. It stared at Whiplash, peering into his soul with its inhuman eyes, a glare that he could not describe. It grunted in a low pitched voice and started to walk towards him.

Whiplash lost his nerve. He shouted in fear and sprinted away as fast as he could. The masked man shadowed him, keeping pace and circling him from a distance. Every time Whiplash turned his head, he could see the masked figure far behind him, omnipresent and foreboding. Whiplash continued his sprint. He was short of breath. His legs ached with every step he took. His lungs felt like they were on fire. The only thing that kept him going was his adrenaline. Griffin was shouting into his ear, but Whiplash was too panicked to even respond. All his body could do was keep surging forward.

The car! Whiplash thought frantically. The jeeps that had brought him and his crew this deep into Montana were still there, but the men ordered to guard them had all been butchered, their guts wrapped around their lifeless corpses. Whiplash didn’t care. He ran up to one of the jeep when it exploded, sending him flying backwards into a tree. His rifle scattered onto the ground far from him.

He moaned as he grabbed his head. He took a hearty blow right to the back of his skull, and he could only grimace as the shooting pain went down his back. The Masked figure stepped from the shadows behind the burning wreckage.

“Please don’t kill me,” Whiplash begged.

The masked man didn’t say a word. It walked towards him menacingly, gripping its machete in its hide gloves. Whiplash pulled out his phone and managed to snag a few photos and sent them over to Griffin. The masked figure grabbed Whiplash by his throat. Whiplash saw into the mask and his spine tingled—he had never seen such hatred and pain coming from someone before. The masked figure’s piercing blue eyes stabbed into his very soul. Whiplash had no more time to contemplate, as he was swiftly stabbed through the eyes with a rusty machete.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Fuck!” Griffin shrieked. He tossed his labtop against the wall, shattering the screen and sending the battery scattering over the floor.

His men just stared at him.

“We lost ten men out there!” Griffin seethed. “Ten! What the fuck? How was the Cult able to kill so many fucking Ghosts?! The president is going to have my ass on a plate! I’m going to be sent to the slavers! Fuck!”

“Sir,” one of his subordinates piped up. “Whiplash sent us something.”

“What?” Griffin screamed. “Show me!”

The subordinate handed him a printed copy of the photo. “This is it.”

The picture was grainy, but in front of the burning wreckage of a set of cars was a hooded figure covered in thick furs. “So the rumors are true then. There really is a masked super-soldier out there killing people left and right. Why is its machete so notched?!”

“We think it may be kills, sir.”

The machete was covered in little notches. “Fuck fuck fuck! So not only did the cult destroy the world, they are now in the business of making super-men who play around in furs and kill trained professional killers?”

“That looks like to be the case sir,”

Griffin gripped the edge of a table so hard that his knuckles turned white. “If the cult wants to play, then we can play as well. Recall every man that you can find me from the oil slaver front in the South West. I want at least a thousand men and dozens of tanks and vehicles.”

“A thousand men, sir?” The subordinate gulped. Such a force would be by far the largest assembled since the nuclear holocaust.

“Yes,” Griffin gritted his teeth. “We are going to go to Hope County and we are going to burn them to the ground. We will kill every last one of those fucks! Every last one of them! They will die! We will avenge Elizabeth, Rubio, Dominque, and Weaver. They will pay for what they did to them, and for what they did to our men tonight!”

“Sir, such a force…”

“I don’t give a flying fuck!” Griffin let loose. “I want a thousand men, and I don’t fucking care how you do it. We are going to send those savages to the God that they so desperately want to see! If they want to kill us, then we are going to fucking kill them!”

Over the next several days, the host was assembled. 1000 men from all over the remnants of the United States were gathered in the ruins of Rapid City, along with dozens of tanks, jeeps, and trucks. Such a show of force would certainly sent the Cult packing into Canada. They might even surrender Joseph Seed into federal custody.

Griffin went over the names of the men. One of them caught his eye—William Chandler, Elizabeth’s son. Pure irony. The son of the fallen would go and avenge her.

He stared into the photo of the masked killer. When Griffin got his hands on him, he would personally rip that man’s head off.

 

[Nikolai]

Please, don't say the masked soldier is Elisabeth.

 

[alex man142]

William Chandler reached down his chest and pulled out his necklace. Wrapped around its thin golden chain was a bullet casing. His father had told him that his mother would have wanted him to have it, but could never really explain why. It was just a normal bullet casing for all he knew, but it was the one of the last things that he could reliably trace to his long dead mother. He clutched it tightly and closed his eyes. His mind filled with the horrors that he would inflict on the Cult for what they did when they blew up the world.

“Hey Will,” a booming voice piped from the driver’s seat. “Done day dreaming?”

“Yeah,” William jolted, quickly shoving the bullet back down the front of his shirt. “Sorry, was just deep in thought.”

“I need to stay on alert,” the commander said, his helmet bopping up and down with the uneven road. “We’re in Peggie country now.” His large green eyes were laser focused on the roads, driving his Humvee around potholes and avoiding any obstacles. Will felt sorry for the guys in the trucks—that had to suck.

Williams spin shuddered as the convoy trudged past the fading Welcome to Montana sign, long since defaced and covered in Cult imagery. Several impetuous soldiers shouted harsh insults, and some even shot the sign up, much to the chagrin of their commanders. There was no love for the Cult here, and everyone was ready to get it over with. There was no way the cultists would be able to stand up to this army.

“We’re here,” William sighed. “Montana.”

“You seem uneasy Captain,” his commander noticed.

“I know,” Will admitted. “This is where my mother was when the bombs dropped. She told me she was coming here. I know she’s dead, but part of me wants to find her and give her a proper burial. It just feels awful being here.”

“We all lost people,” the commander said. “I lost everyone. Wife, kids. All gone.” He let out a deep and regretful sigh. “You know, sorry if I’m being harsh, I know it sucks, but I think killing some freaks will let you put your past behind you.”

William nodded his head. “I think you’re right.”

The commander gently patted Will on the shoulder. “You know, I knew your mom once.”

Will’s eyes widened. “You knew my mom?”

“Yeah, back in Fort Bragg. Good soldier. I was her jump instructor for a while. We used to joke that we needed to check her pulse to make sure she wasn’t dead. Calm as ice.”

“Sounds like her,” Will chuckled.

“The only thing that got her animated was talking about you!” He laughed. “Your grades, your first steps. All of that. Too bad she got deployed out a lot, I always enjoyed talking to her.”

Montana was unlike anything William had ever experienced. Georgia, even after the bombs fell, was lush and green, with rich forests and mountains. Montana was as flat as a table top as far as the eyes could see. Nothing but oceans of green grass swaying in the winds of the Great Plains. Giant herds of wild horses roamed freely, long unshackled from their pens. It was like a verdant savannah, and one could see clearly for miles in any direction. The convoy hauled through here, whipping through the long stretches of empty roads. In the distance, William pointed out a thick cloud of black smoke. The convoy raced towards it.

A small town of survivors had been completely butchered. The pre-apolcalypse town had been gutted and burned, with all the structures turned into smoldering heaps of ash and rubble. Most of the women and children were dead, slaughtered on the ground with their limbs hacked off and tossed into a burning pile. The men were crucified on old electric poles. A single woman survived, and she was incoherently weeping in the middle of what was once her home.

The commander stopped the Humvee right at the entrance of the town. William jumped out first. “My God,” he gasped. “What happened here.”

“They…they came,” the woman sniffled.

“Who came?” The commander asked loudly.

“The Peggies,” she said. “It was horrible. We didn’t even time to prepare. They just came on us.” Many soldiers disembarked from their trucks and formed a perimeter around the town. “They came on jeeps. They said that they had reports that…sodomites and adulterers were here. We denied it, but the Judge didn’t believe us. He crucified everyone and killed the rest. They kept me alive as a warning to others.”

“The Judge?” William asked.

“He’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen…wears…”

William pulled out a photo of the masked figure from his bag. “Is this the Judge?”

The woman’s face grew pale. “That…that’s him.”

“What did he say?” The commander asked.

“Didn’t…didn’t say a word,” she stammered. “The Judge had a mouthpiece that spoke for him. All he did was kill. The spokesperson said that the only language the Judge speaks is death.”

“When was this?”

Several tears fell down her face and wet the dirt below. “Like twelve hours ago.”

“Shit,” the commander huffed. “They’re close. Too fucking close.”

William uttered a silent prayer as he walked towards one of the crucified corpses. His clothes had all been stripped off, his limbs lopped off, and a homosexual slur had been carved gruesomely into his chest. “Who…who could do such a thing?” William wondered. “Who?”

“Savages,” the commander replied. “Pure savages and fanatics. We’ve seen their kind before. They won’t win this time. Judge or not, they can’t defeat this army.”

“Please,” the woman begged. “You have to win.”

“We will,” the commander said reassuringly. “We are going to Hope County and we will smash their hopes and dreams.”

 

[alex man142]

Please, don't say the masked soldier is Elisabeth.

Maybe. Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see.

 

[alex man142]

“Why aren’t they showing themselves?” The commander huffed as the convoy drove carefully through the thick Montana forests. “It’s like they’re afraid.”

“They have to be general,” William agreed. “They’ve probably never seen such a force before.” He adjusted his helmet and stuck his head out the window of the Humvee. The convoy stretched quite a ways back, with trucks, jeeps, and an assortment of army vehicles all following one another. Many men were marching at the side, eager to be out and about. The convoy made no attempt at secrecy: loud rap and aggressive metal music blared from speakers. They were itching for a fight and they wanted the cult to know it.

“Fucking cowards,” the general seethed. “We go this far in their land and they just run? It will only be a day at most before we hit their little capital and arrest that fucking madman Joseph Seed.”

“God I want to see the look on his face when he has cuffs on his hands,” William giggled.

“As do I. We’re going to show them we aren’t the little small villages that they like to bully. They’re to meet a real army here.”

“I just hope it doesn’t actually come to a fight,” William admitted. “I just want surrender.” His thoughts turned to his sweetheart back in North Carolina. They were due to be married when he got back, and he couldn’t wait to see her pearly blond hair again. The last thing he wanted was to get hurt or worse.

“As do I, but killing that Judge would be the icing on the cake. That much has to happen at least.”

The mere mention of the masked foe sent shivers down William’s spine. It’s photo was fixed to the front visor of the driver’s seat, reminding everyone in the car of their target. “That sure does.”

“That thing probably killed your mother Will,” the general said, briefly turning his head towards him. “Your friend as well.”

Carnivore, William grit angrily. “It will die, if not by my hand, then by one of ours.”

“We’ll arrange for that William, for your mother.”

The convoy continued its slow yet steady pace. Strangely enough, not a single road was blocked, nor did the cult even attempt to slow them down. Functioning farms and Cult towns were totally abandoned. The roads, pristine and paved, were devoid of life. Even the animals seemed to have fled, with barely a bird flying overhead. It was all going just according to plan, perhaps too well.

Suddenly, the convoy grinded to a halt. “What’s going on up there?” The General yelled out of the window to the truck in front.

“I’m not sure!” The driver shouted back.

“Fuck!” He roared. “We need to keep moving, not sitting out here! Chandler, open the radio and ask the front what the hell is going on!”

“Yes General!” William said. He reached over his pack and pulled a clunky phone that was attached to the side of the car. “Rogue, this is Wanderer, repeat, Rogue, this is Wanderer, what’s the deal up there?”

“I think you may want to see this,” the voice came ominously, cackling through the weak signal.

“Be right up Rogue,” William said, closing the radio and turning his commander. “He said that we might want to see what’s up there.”

The general didn’t even reply. He pushed the pedal to the metal and gunned it, flying past the convoy and towards the head of the large column. A group of soldiers had dismounted the leading cars and were staring at a set of corpses that had been crudely mutilated and crucified on old telephone poles. William immediately recognized them as scouts that had been sent earlier to scout the path ahead of them.

“What the fuck is this?” The general demanded, slamming the door to the Humvee shut.

“Looks like Gold Team,” a sergeant replied. “Looks like the Cult got to them.”

William scrunched his nose. The smell was unbearable. They had been rotting their for days. Their clothing had been torn off, and a singular message had been cut across their chests. Go Away, it said, or God will end you. “Go away or God will end you?” The general hissed. “Go away or God will end you?! What kind of bullshit it is? What the fuck are they playing at?!”

“I’m not sure boss,” William said with a tinge of fear. “They definitely know we’re coming.”

“Of course they know we’re coming, how can you hide over a thousand men?! This is a fear tactic, designed to make us scared to fight. We won’t play their games. We’re not scared of blood. They keep running, and we’ll keep pushing.”

“I don’t think they’re hiding,” the Sergeant pointed out. “Look over there.”

A group of four cult boys were watching them from the edge of the tree line, the oldest no older than ten years old. Even from this distance, William could see their fur jackets and animal skinned hoods. They just stood there, scanning the convoy, probably counting the amount of men and vehicles that were intruding on their land. “General, if I may,” William began. “They’re watching us. They’ve probably been watching us for days. We should arrest them and ask what they know.”

“Arrest some kids?” The general asked incredulously. “I’m not scared of some punks.”

“Sir, if I may?” William asked.

“Granted.”

“Those are scouts,” William said, pointing directly at them. “Sergeant, please place a map of the route onto the hood of the car.” He complied wordlessly and spread a map as ordered. “As you can see, this road narrows and crosses a bridge right…here,” he pointed at the location, “and hugs a large set of forested hills on one side and the Henbane river on the other. This is the perfect spot for an ambush.”

The general looked at William like he had a horn growing from his head. “An ambush? These are country bumpkins, not soldiers.”

“These ‘country’ bumpkins killed ten of us sir…” William paused, regretting that he had just outed classified information. The general stared at him like a knife.

“Ten of what if I may ask?” The sergeant asked.

“Ten…Americans,” William blurted out to save his status as a Ghost. “Ten Americans are dead.” The general gave a sly sigh of relief. “Ten highly trained Americans are dead. And that judge? That killer? We can’t underestimate them. I say that we set up a camp here for the night, scout the area ahead, and comb these hills for any signs of the Cult military. We can’t be like Varus in the German forests. We need to go in slowly.”

“With all due respect Captain,” the general barked, “but we can’t give them time to prepare. I was given orders by the top to bring Joseph Edwin Seed into federal custody. We can’t give him more time to run.”

“You don’t get my point,” William countered. “They aren’t running. They are watching us. I can feel them in the forest.”

“I’m going to have to agree with the Captain,” the Sergeant interjected, adjusting his helmet. “The cult knows this land. We don’t. We need to be cautious.”

“Fuck caution,” the general shouted. “If we play nice now, then every single enemy that we face will know our weakness. We need to make a statement, right here, and right now. America is back. All the oil cartels, El Recimentio, the slavers…they all need to understand what will happen if they defy us. This will teach them. We will let them know.”

“Sir…” William begged.

“No more talking. Tell the convoy to keep moving. We won’t be attacked, I guarantee it.”

William turned his head one more time towards the children. They darted off into the forest once the convoy continued its pace. The forests became thicker and ever lusher, hugging the sides of the roads tighter than ever. Eventually, the forest opened up as the convoy finally entered Hope County, the heartland of the Cult. The Henbane River, strong, blue, and powerful, snaked through the landscape on one side of the road while the large hills of the rugged land towered over their left.

“What is that?” William wondered. In the distance were the husks of a large concrete and rebar structure. A large green flame shot up brilliantly, the largest fire William had ever seen. “Looks like some ruins.”

“That was once a statue of the maniac,” the General responded. “Your mother took it down if the reports we got are right. We saw her from the satellite footage.”

“Huh,” William said.

It was a big shock to him. He was always a good soldier, but he was still surprised when he was invited to join the extremely classified Ghost Recon Unit after he distinguished himself in the campaigns against the Cuban mafia warlords in southern Florida. He had the rumors of course, but their mere existence was a shock to him. When he came on the small unit, he was even astounded by the discovery that his mother was once a Ghost. The older squad mates spoke about her with a sense of reverence, how she was the first female Ghost, helped to defeat Russian ultra-nationalists, was part of the mission that captured Bin Laden (he was alive!), killed the Caliph, and even almost singlehandedly took down El Sueno, the bastard who was now in control of much of the southwest. Her friends called her a soldier’s soldier, who despite her inferior strength, more than made up for it with her calmness and ability to function in even the most difficult environments. They also said that she was really good with a knife.

It all made sense to him when he read her diaries and notes, about how much she struggled with her double life. He was amazed at just how well she managed to keep it all together despite being one of the most elite soldiers in the entire world. He reached down his shirt and pulled the bullet out that his mother had left him.

“You’re deep in thought Will,” the general noticed.

“Yeah,” William admitted. “Just thinking about my mom. I really was a dick to her you know.”

“Oh she told me,” he laughed. “But deep down, I think she understood why.”

William sighed. “If I could see her one last time, I just want to say sorry. Sorry for everything. God I was a bad son.”

“Kill the cult,” the general said. “Kill them. That will be your apology.”

“Not all of them,” William closed his eyes. “Only Joseph and the Judge, the two that killed her.”

“They will die. Say Will, I’ve been driving for a while. How about you take the wheel for a bit? I could use a bit of rest.”

“Sure,” William smiled. The General brought the Humvee to a halt, then the two traded spots.

The convoy continued to truck along. Everyone was on edge in these hills, especially after seeing the crucified corpses of their comrades. Every gunner was swerving their machine guns around, and everyone had their guns locked and loaded. The convoy crossed an old wooden bridge that had clearly been recently refurbished. In front. the road curved to the left slightly, following the banks of the Henbane. To his left, the forest hugged the hills, ascending in a gradual fashion towards the tall mountains that rimmed the valley. This is the perfect spot to be hit. William gripped the wheel so tightly that his hands were white.

Suddenly, the truck in front of him slammed its breaks to a halt. William jammed the breaks in turn, jolting the general awake. “What the fuck is going on?!” He hissed groggily.

“I’m not sure,” William shrugged. “Maybe a tree fell down?”

“Let me get a look,” the general opened the door in frustration. “What the fuck is going on up there?” He yelled towards the cars in the front. Some harsh words were exchanged which were garbled from the interior of the Humvee. The general kicked the wheel of the truck in front of him and started to make his way back. He stopped, looked down at his chest, then fell to the ground.