#polyseed

You watched as the video cut out, a signal error message displayed over the static of the tablet.  The sheriff tapped your knee as he spoke to you.

“..Ookie, Rookie.  You're wasting your time; there is no signal up here.” You sucked on your lip and sighed as you looked to Marshal Burke, and he spoke about the area the helicopter had been crossing over while he read the map with the debrief.  Everyone's head raised as you all looked to your left, staring at the massive statue- a monument of the Father.  You'd seen him in your own debrief.

“Oh fuck, there he is-” Hudson said as she watched the statue fly by.  

“Crazy motherfucker,” Burke agreed.  Whitehorse followed-

“Jesus.”

“Are we officially in Peggy country, then?” you muttered, hardly heard over the sound of the rushing wind.  You were quiet.

“That's right,” Hudson said.  “We’re here.”  It was obvious that Marshal was growing impatient as he asked Whitehorse about how much longer we had left in the godforsaken flying machine.

“Long enough for you to change your mind, so we can turn this bird around.  You know?”

“He can't ignore a federal warrant, Sheriff,” you said, putting your hand on the papers that Burke was raising, trying to show him the warrant at the top of the stack.  Burke pulled his hand away and returned the papers to his lap, shooting you a glare. Whitehorse cut in,

“I just want you to understand the reality of this situation, Marshal.  The Father- Joseph Seed, he's not a man to be fucked with.  We’ve had run-ins before, and they've not always gone our way- before Rook came up here.”

“Yeah, well, we have laws for a reason, Sheriff.” Burke motioned to the papers again.  “Joseph Seed has to learn that.”  He leaned forward and tucked the papers under his thigh so they wouldn't fly.

“You'll be fine,” Hudson nodded to you as she turned her back at the doors that Whitehorse was opening.  The choir got louder, and the Marshal and Sheriff were already walking forward, leaving you to catch up in the centre of them.

“Something is coming, you can feel it, can't you?” The father began speaking- and you stared at the glowing, warped cross above him. “That we are creeping towards the edge… And there will be a reckoning.”  You felt the air in your chest grow heavy, and your throat ran dry.  Your arms- the tattoos scrawled across your arms and hips began to itch.  You pulled the sleeve of your uniform down further.  “That is why we started the project. Because we know what happens next.” His head shifted with his gaze as he looked at all the people in the pews, momentarily ignoring the presence of you and your companions.

“They will come.  They will try to take from us, take our guns… Take our freedom, take our faith.  We will not let them.”  He raised his head a little higher as he stared at you and the two men at your sides. 

“Sheriff, c’mon-” Burke began, but Whitehorse cut him off.

“Just hold on, Marshal.”

“We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore.” You were steps away from the father, and your eyes travelled to the three ‘siblings’ behind him.  Faces you also recognised from your reading.   Your tattoos, the ones there from birth, began to burn, and felt like fire clawing its way up your limbs and torso, clawing at your throat. You knew where this was going, and silently prayed you were wrong- that your body, your soul, was confused.

 “There will be no more suffering,” he shouted over the two men at your side as they tried to speak.

“Joseph Seed,” Bruke shouted as he raised the warrant.  “I have a warrant issued for your arrest, On the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm!” Joseph only stared, as if he was gawking that someone had dared raise their voice to him.  “Now, I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see ‘em”  The father raised his hands, and his rosary flashed in the light, peggies from the pews muttering and voicing their discontent.

“Here they are. Locusts in our garden… You see, they've come for me?” He stared at you as his hands fell, and multiple people, patrons of the cult, stepped in front of him, shielding him.  “They’ve come to take me away from you; they've come to destroy all that we've built!”  The peggies from the pews hollered, and some raised their guns.  A commotion began to stir, and now people were yelling as your ears rang. You stared at the Father, directly in the middle across from you, as the sheriff tried to diffuse the situation.  You couldn't look away.  You didn't even notice the seeds behind him staring, either. 

“Everyone, calm down,” Whitehorse said as people watched Joseph step down. The cult began to quiet near instantly.

“We knew this moment would come.  We've prepared for it,” he said, looking to the two followers he stepped between.  “Go, go.” He ushered them away.  “God will not let them take me.” You watched as the following began to expel from the church, all of them shuffling out past you, glaring. When you looked back at Joseph, his hands were raised in the air.

“I saw when the lamb opened the first seal, and I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, ‘Come and see’.”

“Step forward,” Burke bristled, and Joseph dropped his hands, stepping forward and looking directly at the marshal.

“And I saw, and behold,” He pointed a finger at Burke before directing it to the sheriff. “It was a white horse,” he put his hand down, and his gaze shifted to your own. “And hell followed with him.” There wasn't even a breath of pause before the marshal spoke. Already turned to you.

“Rookie, cuff this son of a bitch,  You looked at him- the fire in your left arm nearly debilitating as you grabbed the cuffs on your waist.  

“God will not let you take me.”  The mark, the first words directed at you from your soulmate- the very ones that branded black into your skin began to gleam, shining through your shirt as the heat began to burn at the shirt above it.  Cinders ashed away the portion of the sleeve that covered the declaration, and faded as soon as your skin could breathe.  The cuffs clattered to the ground, and the six other people in the church simply stared at them.  

Stared as you bent over and vomited on the floors of the church. Shaking as you grabbed the thankfully clean cuffs from next to your boots, you rose back up and wiped whatever was around your mouth with your intact sleeve, then looked up at the man before you.  

“Guess there is no hiding that one, huh?” You said as you cuffed the pastor, who, just as the others, was still in awe at the now white tattoo on your arm, wincing at the words, which were now shining on his back, cemented themselves in the white colour.  You ignored it and the gaping looks of his siblings behind him. Your others still itched and burned, but you ignored the sensation as you grabbed the centre of the chain linking the cuffs together and yanked Joseph forward with them. 

“Rook- wait.  Rookie,” Whitehorse frantically followed you as you began to march, laughing the silent cult leader behind you.  “Deputy Rook.”

“What?” you snapped as you stopped on your heel, half turning to stare at your superior, all while Joseph bumped into your back. You swore he whispered to you and felt his breath on your neck, but you didnt hear him.  Your mind was still buzzing, and your ears were still ringing,  your stomach was still churning with he images of your now confirmed soulmate (or at least one of them, you thought.  You were sure the others wouldn't turn out the same way Joseph had.), gouging out a civilian's eyes, and you were huffing, nearly shaking.  Was it anger? Or perhaps some deeper, more grotesque emotion you couldn't identify.  You didnt know. Your head jerked as you spoke up again. “What could it possibly be, Sheriff?” You swallowed and shoved the Pastor back by his cuffs, giving your burning body space. 

“Rook, I can take him if you want to go on ahead and sort yourself. This looks like a difficult situation for you to handle immediately for yourself.”

The surrounding peggies began to shift.  They were already agitated, but they didnt understand what was happening before them. You straightened your posture and released a heavy breath before you looked around.  

“Let's just go,” You said as you pushed Joseph in front of you.  Slowly, Joseph looked over his shoulder, his eyes fairly unreadable, before he looked forward and slowly walked forward.  He raised his head higher and began to preach to the peggies he passed.

“My brothers and sisters,” he shouted as the crowds went silent, even the rabidly barking dogs seemed to quiet.  You pushed him by his shoulder, trying to speed up his pace to go around the building. His pace didnt change, but his voice grew louder to reach his people.  “God had bestowed my soulmate, my destined devotee.”

“Shut up,” You hissed.   

“This Deputy, they have not found the way.  They may be fearful.”

“Shut up, Seed.” You enunciated as you moved your hand to the centre of his back, trying to usher him before he spilt too much.

“You cannot harm this deputy, as it is God's plan for them to live in Eden with us, and they are lost.” 

“Get into the fucking helicopter,” You said, giving him a final shove, forcing him to nearly trip in the dirt and mud. 

The helicopter was filled with noise, the sound of gunfire and screams had been roaring as Hudson attempted takeoff. Peggies were crawling up the ascending aircraft like cockroaches, and Burke used his service weapon to shoot one’s brains out.  Everyone was shouting, and they were still latched onto the landing skids.  You hadn't even noticed the father humming, his head laid back as he stared at you below his glasses.  Your eyes were instead on the glass of the cockpit as one peggie stood on the nose and threw himself into the blades.

The helicopter was spinning, and you felt bile rise in your throat, seeing everyone brace themselves.  You felt dizzy at the twirling trees and the sheer force of the rotation.  Someone, you don't know who, shouted “Brace for impact,” but you hardly heard it before everything went black.

Your head was pounding as you craned your neck upwards, and you opened your eyes to still spotty vision. You weren't sure where you were at the moment, but the muffled voices of the person holding you in their arms with a rising set of flames behind you was enough to push enough adrenaline through your system to kick your instincts into gear. You thrashed, only to have Joseph, the one holding you, try to grip you to his chest harder and shush you.  It only earned him an elbow to his cheek, then your knee to the opposite side of his jaw.  In the bustle, you had managed to squirm free and dropped to the ground on your back below him.  He was gripping his jaw as one of his pests leaned down to reach for you, but your foot flew up, and you knocked his jaw upwards, your boot landing with a sickening thud. You rolled and shifted, getting to your knees within a breath and turned to look at Joseph over your shoulder before jolting to the burning helicopter.  You saw nobody left in it, and felt stones settle in your stomach.

Assumably, they'd escaped, but based on how long you'd seemed to have been knocked out post-crash, they may have been taken just as Joseph had tried to take you. 

“Deputy, you can't run.  You lost your chance to walk away.” Joseph was already walking slowly behind you.  He outreached his hands; his head tilted and you watched as his glasses slipped down his nose.  “Come to me, and we can save you.”

“Fuck you and your piss-coloured glasses.”  You turned and jumped through the fire, across the cabin of the helicopter and out the other side, and followed the trail into the woods.

Taglist: @the-silver-chronicles

Excerpt 1)

I hadn’t known it at the time, but my fate had been hanging from a thread.  I’d been so very, very close to being unreachable by anybody. I learned a lot in my time in the camp, about what’d truly been happening in the Valley.   Sure, I’d known that the cult is kidnapping people and ‘baptizing’ (and sometimes drowning) them, but I hadn’t known where they go afterwards: Confession.  In a giant underground bunker, tucked away somewhere in the mountains to the west.  It’s aptly named John’s Gate, a fortress where the cult will await the Collapse.  And it’s exactly where I would’ve ended up if Jerome hadn’t freed us.  Once you wind up in John’s Gate, there’s no helping you.  You’re gone forever. Like Joey Hudson. Undergoing her own Confession – being tortured by the Inquisitor himself until she admits her sins to him.  Then being carved into or tattooed with whatever she confesses to.  A permanent mark etched into her for life… like the mental scars won’t be enough already.  The thought makes me sick. And I could’ve been in her shoes had things been different. I cast my gaze directly west, to Black Horse Mountain where the bunker rests.  I’m not far from the bunker’s security gate – maybe a twenty-minute hike (if I hurry).  If I were a stronger person, I could charge right in and rescue Hudson and all the others by myself.  I’ve had dreams about storming John’s Gate and liberating the captives there, blowing the stupid place sky high in the process.  Of course, in those dreams I’m a one-woman army, kicking ass and taking names. But as I am now?  As the Resistance is now?  That place is untouchable. Stopping a prisoner convoy is far different from a large-scale rescue operation.  Pushing the Peggies out of Jim’s Rest Shop is a totally different animal than storming a whole ass bunker – especially one that’s been heavily fortified, and is kept firmly under John Seed’s scrutiny. We can’t even agree what to do with Fall’s End.  How are we supposed to do anything about John’s Gate? I sigh and gather my catch for the day.  Time to head back.  It’s funny how the camp has started feeling a bit like home.

Excerpt 2)

“I’ll get you that water, Merle.” Of course, promises are easier made than kept.  I grumble under my breath the entire way to the compound, cursing Joseph Seed and the sun and every member of the resistance including myself.  Because how in the hell am I supposed to have even a chance of convincing the paranoid prepper gang to part with such a precious resource. I clench and unclench my fists as I think about how to ask.  Maybe I can appeal to their sense of community?  Or try bartering something in exchange?  Do we even have anything to barter with them?  If so, am I authorized to make that kind of deal?  I have to stop and press my head against the rough bark of a pine tree to center myself. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I’ve been kidnapped by John Seed’s goons; this shouldn’t be scary at all in comparison.  Because they won’t shoot an unarmed woman would they?  After all, the Doverspike residents are technically on the same side as the Resistance.  Even if we’re not technically allied, they’re fighting against the cult.  That has to mean something, right? Before the Reaping, Lester Doverfield and Ian Spikenski had co-owned US Automotive.  They’d done some work with Merle, apparently.  My mustachio’d acquaintance had stated that both men are hard-working types.  Salt to the earth, hands-on men who like to tinker and go out to the Spread Eagle every night after fixing up cars – when there’d been a saloon, anyway.  Merle had joined them for a beer or two, throwing darts and causing a ruckus. Why Merle himself didn’t come is beyond me.  But then again, I don’t really understand a lot of why things are the way they are.  Like I don’t understand why Doverfield and Spikenski don’t join up with us and help us push out the cult. It feels like being purposefully stupid on principal not to fight back.  They’re just sitting in their compound waiting to be taken.  It doesn’t solve anything – inaction and complacency. Still at a loss, I approach the front gate with both arms held up in a pacifying gesture.  No bow with me today.  And no Boomer, even though I’d feel better with him at my side.  I want to be damn certain I don’t look like a threat. “Doverfield?  Spikenski?  Do you have a moment?” I call out loudly, feeling like an idiot.  Of course they have a moment, dumbass, I scold myself.  They’re locked inside a fortress with nothing else to do but pace nervously and shoot at things. I must look like a really appealing target right now.

Before he can protest, you turn towards Faith whose eyes fluttered shut before her nephew's. You kiss her lashes, too, thanking her for tiring him out.

"I got the Old Man's eyes," he sunk further into the animal furs. "So did Joseph. And John."

"That's some strong seed," you poke at him again, propping yourself up on an elbow.

"You'd know, angel," he winks, playing your childish game.

"I mean it," you say, serious all of a sudden.

It startles him, but not sufficiently to disturb the slumbering child lying on top of him.

"I think he's yours," your voice is barely audible as you burrow your teeth into his bicep, biting lightly.

"Too handsome," he humors you, snapping his teeth close to your face. "Looks like Jonny when he was a kid," he smiles at the memory and at his nephew (or son). "Ma couldn't stop snappin' pictures of him."

"And now John can't stop painting him," you smile at the thought of your baby's father (or uncle) fretting over you shifting in your seat while posing for the portrait. "I wonder if they have functioning cameras in Prosperity," you speak aloud the thought of travelling outside of New Eden.

"Don't let Joseph hear you say that," he shakes his head.

Faith yawns, wrapping one lazy arm around you. "Don't let Father hear her say what?"

You and Jacob duet as you shush her.

"Oh, he's sleeping?" She speaks against your spine. "Sorry."

"She wants to borrow a cup of sugar from the neighbours," he rises from the cot, heading for the crib.

"A camera," you correct him, getting comfortable in her caress.

"I'm gettin' Jonny away from his paints and we're goin' scavengin'." Jacob's joints pop as he lets go of that small, fragile bundle of flesh and bones in his arm. "Sun's still up. Who knows, maybe we'll get to snap one before it goes down."

"Look out for each other out there," Faith joins their foreheads, stroking his red and silver mane.

"Our babies need all three of their dads," you struggle to stand up in a sitting position as he places his forehead against yours. "Come back to us alive."

"Yes, ma'am," he salutes you as he stands back up and pops his back.