(M) The Treasure of the Lost Mountains IC (bluemoon x Siks apocy RP) (M)

[bluemoon]

It was only a short while after their little chat that Ezra exited the diner with Aidan at her side. There were several soldiers waiting outside, and although they did not put a hand on the scavver, the threat was evident enough with how close they moved in to surround the couple. She offered them a smile that was not reflected in her hazel eyes, then kept her attention straight ahead, ignoring the townsfolk that watched them pass. Within ten minutes they were shepherded inside the church, Aidan sending the men ahead to prepare the prisoner for a visitor.

As soon as the guards left, Ezra was directed out of the chapel and led to one of the guest rooms. It was where she and Jackal would have been housed if things had gone according to her plans. There was a large bed pushed off to one side and a wardrobe leaning against the wall. Small, but comfortable, it would meet the needs of most for a short stay. She had barely stepped inside before Aidan touched her arm gently.

“I will have clean clothes brought for you...and after your ‘visit’ with Mr. Lawless, you will see to getting ready for tonight. Agreed?”

Ezra nodded, her lower lip slipping between her teeth as she considered the preparation required for the ceremony. She had never attended one, but knew well enough what was expected of her. Hell on Earth, she thought, then swallowed hard. She would do whatever was required...many times over if needed...to get the plan rolling.
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In the several minutes that transpired while Ezra changed and waited for her escort, four soldiers busied themselves with cleaning up the prisoner that lay on the floor of his cell, his chains slack, but the threat of punishment imminent if he tried to resist. Cold water was thrown on his prone body, both to clean and rouse him at the same time. A piece of stale bread was set beside him, as well as a cup of broth, neither of which had been offered prior.

“Perk up Jack,” one of them hissed, poking the man in the ribs with the barrel of his gun, “..ya got company coming. Gotta look yer best.” Laughter followed his words as the men prepared to file out, the sound of footsteps now coming down the long corridor.

The lawman growled lightly as the water was thrown on him and despite being stiff from pain and his confinement he easily got to his feet, the nerve quickly flickering away from the eyes of the four guards as they saw his speed and almost dead gray eyes. But he didn't attack them, even Jackal knew he wouldn't be able to take all four of them...not in his current state.

The guards managed to recover their composure and quickly left tossing an old towel down for him to dry himself off with. With another low growl he lifted the towel and scrubbed himself as best as he could. Dried blood and dirt flaked off his thin body, but the scars and new wounds would still be red and angry looking, some of them even beginning to bleed again.

There was only one person who'd come visit him, and it made him sigh. He told her to run...to get Matches and Sammy to safety. He gave them the map, that was all they needed, why was she still here? Sitting down on the ground he let out a low sigh ignoring the food and tossing the towel into the corner of his cell.

Just as the lawman sat, the familiar voice of his lover filtered down the passageway, her tone angry as she argued with one of the guards. Aidan's name was thrown out and the discussion ended abruptly, the situation seeming to be worked out as she came around the corner and roughly brushed off the hand on her arm.

"Unlock it," she said, authority surrounding her words. Her gaze shifted alternately between her escorts, the guard on her left pulling out a key and opening the door wordlessly. It was only then that Ezra turned her attention to Jackal, her face holding steady as she entered the cage, the slightest flinch occurring when the bars were slammed shut.

"Jack," she said, falling to her knees beside him. She reached out and took his hand, her eyes roving over his naked torso with dismay. "I'm so sorry lover." She lifted her gaze, her expression soft on the outside, but a deeper passion burned within. Anger. Hatred. Her mouth opened slightly and she leaned towards him, her lips meeting his gently in a kiss.

As Ezra touched him the lawman couldn't help but flinch lightly at the contact. The False Men of the Cloth had dragged razor blades across his palm and fingers, not enough to make them inoperable, but the wounds were still quite raw and the contact sent pain racing up his arm. It caused him to yank his hand back and press it to his chest the blood smearing over his chest some. "Ezzy." Was all he could say before she kissed him. The bastards had avoided damaging his lips...about the only things that didn't get torn apart in the past couple of days.

One of the guards scoffed and banged the bars. "Hey this ain't a conjugal visit...so quit your conjucating!"

Jackal shot the man a dead-eyed glare which shut him up, but he still pulled back slumping against the wall the contact making him flinch some more, but the sudden cold of the wall soothed the pain some. "What are you doing here Ms. Bastian? Didn't he get to you?" Jackal asked his voice soft and weak sounding. His eyes had lost some of their fire as he stared at the woman he loved with a listless gaze.


The hint of a frown passed over her lips as she regarded him solemnly. "Who lover? Did who get to me?" She feared the worst, that his body was already raging with fever and his mind affected. She had to know, or else all was lost. She leaned towards him again, knowing the contact would be painful...but unavoidable.

"Please Jack...don't pull away."

Did her eyes convey sorrow? Grief? Loss? She let her shoulders sag, her breath escaping her lips heavily. Cool hands pressed into his shoulders, tugging firmly to pull him away from the wall so she could wrap her arms around him. Her embrace was tight, providing support to his sagging body and holding firm.

Again the banging on the bars. "No touching!"

"Told ya we shouldn't let 'er inside."

"Hey!"

Ez ignored them, her head turned towards Jackal's ear, her breath puffing softly against his skin. "They're safe Jack..." she whispered. "Matches found us. There's a Resistance. I just need you to hold on for one more day. Stay strong. Be ready."

Jackal's whole body erupted in burning pain as her clothing and skin rubbed over even more of his still bleeding wounds, but he couldn't bring himself to push her away, at least not as violently as he should. He endured the pain for a few seconds before he mustered up the strength to push out of her grip, sweat already coating his body, the pain causing him to want to shrink inside himself. "Don't let them see...you are my only weakness." He whispered through tightly clenched teeth. "They're desperate to break me...and...only...you can give...them...the means." His body sagged again, the weight of his torture and the pain of knowing Ezra had climbed back into the Lion's Den for him, crushing him more than anything. He reached for the now cold broth, grabbing the bowl and turning, trying to throw it at the woman. His strength left him and only caused it to upturn a few inches away from her before he collapsed onto his back. "Get...away...from...me...Ms. Bastian." He managed to say before his head dropped onto the stone and his eyes shut.

The door opened and the voice of one of the guards barked up, not even bothering to hide the smugness in his voice. "Well looks like the big bad wolf is good and broken now. Even throwing away his first meal in a few days. Come on girly, you've made Mr. Bishop wait long enough." He gripped Ezra's arm and yanked her up to her feet.

"No!" she cried, her resistance only going as far as her plea as she allowed herself to be pulled from the cell like a weak child. Her heart ached at what she had caused, salty tears flowing down her cheeks in an emotional display, an easier feat than she would have imagined. How much she had changed since meeting the gunman, her weak feminine feelings called upon to suit her needs.

"Jackal?"

Her cry was met with silence as she then looked upon the faces of the guards before her, confusion etching its way into her features.
"He doesn't call me that!" she said as she shook off the hands that were still gripping her. Rolling out her shoulders she huffed out a breath and wiped the wetness from her face, taking one last look at Jack as he lay prone on the cold stone floor.

The Guard laughed mockingly letting Ezra pull away. "Well sure sounded like he does now. Our Leaders are quite good at reeducation, and now that they've broken the most feared killer in Ragged America no one will ever question them." He roughly shoved Ezra forward. "This'll be the talk of the Ceremony. They might even bring him out as proof." The man laughed loudly as they all moved back down the corridor.

Aidan was waiting for them in the Chapel, his hands clasped and his head down in prayer. The very picture of virtue and goodness. He heard Ezra and the Guards enter, a small smile crossing his face as he saw the woman's face. And a secret nod from the guards told him the rest of what he needed to know. That Jackal had broken ties with the last person who cared if he lived or died, now the questioning should go much easier.

Still doing his best to hide his smugness, he hid it under the pretense of finishing some inane prayer before he turned to others. "I hope everything went well Ezra?" He asked sounding almost genuine.

"Everything went...fine," she said, adding a bit of hesitance. She did not meet his gaze, afraid her true feelings would surface. She just needed a bit more time to get herself under control. Until then, let the bastard think what he would, she had at least managed to get her message through to Jackal.

Sighing, she finally lifted her gaze to his. It was time to dive into the deep end. The cleansing...the ceremony...atonement...then the obligation to be met. It was all part of the agreement that came with giving up her life to live in the town where she grew up. ...and it was all built on a pack of lies. One piled on top of the other. But she only had to make it through tonight. The rest would dissolve when she pulled a knife across the bastard's throat.

She smiled. "I gather you are waiting for my answer." Her hands went behind her back where she folded them together, squeezing until her fingers turned red, then white. "I'll join you. But the conditions are still in place. Mr. Lawless lives or I'll forfeit my end."

Aidan gave a glowing smile and bowed lightly. "Of course Ezra, I may be a lot of things...but I always keep my word. All will be made right tonight, that I can guarantee. Eustace, please escort Ms. Bastian to her room she will need her rest for tonight." The Guard who hadn't mocked Ezra nodded and ushered her from the Chapel. Once they were gone Aidan and the loud-mouthed guard shared a low chuckle. "Seems everything is coming together nicely, Zedekiah, make sure the dog stays with us for a few more hours. The old man and I have plans for that one, he'll be a guest of honor at the Atonement tonight, we may have broken his body and mind, but his spirit remains strong even with him casting the whore aside. But seeing her come back into the Fold will break his spirit...and then...we can use him to fix the rest of the world."

Zedekiah let out a low malicious chuckle pulling the cattle prod off his belt and clicking it on. "Oh it'll be my pleasure sir. That bastard killed a lot of my friends in his genocidal crusade, it'll be nice to get some justice for them." Aidan smiled and patted the cruel man on the shoulder before leaving the Chapel to begin his own preparations. "Justice for all my friend...justice for all."

[SikstaSlathalin]

The day dragged on into night the town a buzz with the anticipation the Atonement Ceremony always brought. The confessions, the repentance...the hopelessness that some of them might not be around to see the morning. Like mice trapped in a maze as water slowly began to wash through the twisty corridors. Taking away the weak and impure...but allowing the devout to remain afloat and see another year of life before the Sword of Damocles came their way again.

The state of constant damnation and doom had been slowly crushing the life from the denizens of Endver. The children suffering the worst of every generation, girls inducted into Theophyllis's teachings coming out too broken to form proper relationships, boys forced to watch their sisters be destroyed and faced with the trouble of finding their own sweetheart because all women they see are just as broken or told they were nothing but whores and not worth settling down with. Less children were born each year, soon the town would shrivel up and die, but no one could stop it now. They were all broken spirits too scared to fight back and too weak to escape Endver and survive this deep in Ragged America's wastelands.

The people milled about cleaning themselves and putting on the pure white clothing there all expected to wear to Atonement. Dresses for the girls and women and a simple pair of slacks and a shirt for the boys and men. Every scrap of clothing was expected to be immaculate and clean, this was a ceremony of renewal and purity. At least that was what they were all told, though no one left the ceremony as pure and white as they first were. It wasn't always brutal, but the pressure and shame caused some people to wet themselves or pound themselves into the dirt around the center stage. Some of the more zealous townspeople brought homemade flails or old switches of plastic or metal to punish themselves with. It was a very rare occasion to see the Atonement grounds clean of blood after all was said and done. Even those who weren't directly confessing would flog themselves in shame.

The rest of the town simply stared dully on just existing in the moment waiting for their time to confess for whatever sins they may have committed real...or imagined. All had sins and both Theophyllis Cain and Aidan Bishop knew their sins before they did and if they didn't confess them the men would have them dragged into the center ring and forced to confess under the pain of a "Pure Cleansing" white hot brands were pressed to their flesh until they screamed their crimes to the heavens above and begged for forgiveness. Sometimes the pain was too much or the heat caught their clothing ablaze and they were "purged of sinful living" Dying by fire was considered the ultimate repentance and those that burned were sent directly into the Pure Light of afterlife and spared the fires of the Radiated Hell the impure were sent to. It was desirable to continued existence as sinners and monsters, but very few had the courage to endure the pain of a Pure Cleansing.

But the Leader suspected one among them could endure a Pure Cleansing. Jackal Lawless was legendary for his resistance to dying. Many of the tales they dismissed as fanciful embellishments, but the tortures they had subjected him to would've killed any other man in the town. Themselves included, but this gave them both a devious idea to ensure their continued power. The usual confessions would commence, and the beaten and battered body of Jackal would be stretched before the alter for the entire time. Squelching any rebellious elements that might seek to disrupt the Lord's Work, the man would be alive to watch their influence over the minds of Endver's people. But it wouldn't be until it was Ezra's turn to confess that their true plan would be revealed.

Once Jackal's formal lover had confessed and converted it would be time for a "special presentation" The feared lawman...broken...bleeding...and nearly lifeless in their hands would be dragged forward and given his chance to confess. They knew already he wouldn't say anything even if he was able, so they would take it as an invitation to begin Jackal's purifying process. Like the others the fiery brands would be pressed to his skin. They were sure even a man like Jackal couldn't remain silent at being burned alive he would say anything to make it stop. He would beg for it and being the gracious spiritual leaders they were, they would grant it and then the formally untouchable gunman will be at their mercy and they would use him to cleanse the entire wasteland. Ragged America would be rebuilt as they saw fit. For He who controls the Devil will control the fate of mankind. And if Ezra saw the display and it brought her back into the Fold seeking comfort...well Aidan would happily give it to her.

But there was still much to do before they could begin. The ceremony would begin at dusk and carry on well into the night until every town-person had either confessed or been cleansed by fire. Of course Theo, Aidan, and the guards would be expunged from confessing. They were chosen to carry on the will of the Almighty so they were already as pure and without sin as you could get. A rigged system used to control the weak and ignorant. Like every other government before it.

Unbeknownst to the ones in power though...this would be the last year of Atonement and their tyranny was at an end. Even if their plans for Jackal and Ezra worked they would need to kill almost half of the town before they could enjoy their new toys. The Farmers, Merchants, Craftsmen, Guards all the people a town needs to survive would be gone. And once word left Endver's walls that a crazed and even more bloodthirsty Jackal Lawless was one of them the other towns would barricade themselves up and the Traders would be warned to stay far away from the doomed town. It was the part of the plan Becca and the other leaders of the Resistance kept to themselves. They had plans in place to kill Theo, Aidan and anyone around them with improvised explosives should their original plan fail. They could survive with a third of the town left in rubble from the blast, but they all knew no one could survive with Theo and Aidan in power. And if that meant killing Jackal and Ezra in the process?...Well that was a sacrifice they were willing to make as long as it meant they would be free.

Sammy, Matches, and Deck had snuck into Endver to finalize their plans. Word was sent to Ezra to meet at Becca's house for some early dinner. The coded message of "Kufu Burgers being on the menu along with some fine desert rose tea." It held information that only Ezra would know, that being the name of Jackal's mother and the recipe he had shared with her and Deck early on in their journey.

[bluemoon]

After being delivered to her room, Ezra paced the small space until a thick layer of sweat coated her skin. She was not ready for tonight, nothing could ever prepare her for the humiliation she would be forced to submit to...admitting her sins...begging for forgiveness...receiving the punishment deemed appropriate. Nearly growling with frustration, she sat on the edge of the bed, her hand reaching between the mattresses for the comforting feel of the blade she had hidden inside its layers. It was a shame she would not be able to take it with her tonight, but there was no way to conceal it...her role requiring her to be stripped and searched...nothing left to chance.

Puffing out a sigh, she pulled herself back onto the bed and laid out on top of the blankets. She still had a few hours before she would be taken to the baths, the least she could do was try to pass the time with sleep. Her lids were heavy, but as soon as she closed them the image of Jackal invaded her thoughts. His body, already heavily scarred, had suffered torture beyond her imagining. ...and for what? What was it the leaders wanted from him? If it was for the location of the imagined treasure, surely they would have used their methods on her instead. She was the weaker subject.

Her thoughts were her demons, and when she finally did fall into slumber, it was only to dream of hell on earth, fiery fires of damnation cleansing the sinners of all their tribulations. Hours of restlessness passed, until a firm knock on the door awakened her with a start. Eyes flying wide, Ezra reached for her guns, her hands grabbing at the empty air by her hips as the door opened, the light from the hall blocked by the young man who had brought her here earlier...Eustace. His uniform had been changed, the creases tight and the fit immaculate. The guard gave her a slight nod before entering, one hand held behind his back as though in a military pose. Forcing herself into a sitting position, she watched the man cautiously, her breathing starting to quicken as he approached her bed.

“It’s time for your bath,” he said almost apologetically, the hand that had been hidden brought forward and held out towards her. Between his fingers was a slip of paper, the edges crumbled from being kept inside his closed palm. “It’s from Becca,” he added barely above a whisper. “Once you finish your bath and are dressed, I can get you to her home, but only for a short while. Your presence will be expected in the auditorium within an hour.”

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Ezra was taken down a set of stairs carved from solid rock and opening onto a deep crevice, the likes of which she had never seen. Inside the mountain that lay within the borders of Endver, a network of hot springs had been discovered only recently, their purpose now merely for bathing. It was warm and a layer of moisture covered everything, evaporating steam rising to the ceiling of the immense cave. In awe, the woman could only stare...it was no wonder the town had prospered, there was little they did not possess.

Snapped back into awareness by the voices of the soldiers around her, Ezra sighed with resignation as the cleaning process was ordered to begin. Eustace stood nearby as the scavver stripped, his face flushing red as he moved closer to check her for concealed weapons, the pat down unnecessary, but required. If not for the other sets of eyes on them, she was sure things would have occurred differently. As it was, there was nothing but relief filling her once she was allowed to submerge herself in the waters.

For the first time in what seemed ages, Ez was able to run soap along her skin with the accompaniment of a soak in hot water. Her hair fell down over her shoulders in waves once she released it from its band, the strands longer than she could remember wearing them, the time on the road preventing her from cutting their length. She washed herself thoroughly before ducking under for a final rinse, her hesitation brief as she then stepped from the pool into the waiting towel in Eustace’s hands.

It was like a lover’s embrace...warm and comforting. She did not resist while the man dried her, the realization that this might be the last offer of compassion she might receive playing over her mind like a song on repeat. Knowing Eustace was part of the resistance helped to ease the discomfort she suffered with the intimacy, this part of the ritual something she had not been cognizant about. The moment passed quickly, and the dress she was given was slipped on without comment, a simple affair that tied closed in the front like a robe. Its hem fell to the middle of her thighs and although it was oversized, the sash pulled it in like a fitted glove. Once the white slipper-like shoes were on her feet, she was led back to the surface, the chamber echoing her footsteps through its high-ceilinged expanse.

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Using tunnels that seemed to be hidden throughout the compound, the two made their way out of the leader's domain. It was only a short walk from there to Becca’s house, which was welcoming change for the scavver after being in the company of Aidan and his goons. She welcomed Sammy into her arms, hugging Matches and Deck as well, assuring them that everything was going according to plan...and that Jackal was alive. She didn’t share any further details, or her doubts, content to listen idly while the latest change in the plan was laid out.

Eustace provided the details, his knowledge regarding a surprise guest at the Atonement most likely pushing the attack up to tonight. With Jackal freed from his cell so he too could atone, the best chance for success would be during the ceremony, catching most of the soldiers off guard due to the festivities. Plenty of drink, full bellies, and the aroma of burning smudge sticks would keep them distracted. It was all to go down following Ezra’s confession, the last known atoner on the roster for the night.

There was some talk...and some food and drink...but the gathering was short...and at the insistence of the guard, Ez said her farewells. A heaviness weighed on her heart as she was taken back to the compound. More surprising though was the detour towards Aidan’s room, her questioning glance met with silence. This had not been part of the plan either, but hopefully atonement was about to begin, it was better than the possible alternative of what this stop might mean. Her only saving grace was the sudden spike in activity which was hard to miss, and the heady odors which wafted down the hall, the scent of spiced meats especially strong.

“How long before it’s time?” she asked nervously, her eyes shifting towards the guard’s hand on her arm.

“Only a few more minutes. You’ll be led in with the others...after seeing Mr. Bishop.”

Sighing in relief, but also feeling her heart start to race, Ezra nodded. At least there would be no time for any additional ‘activities’ before the event. It was a weight lifted off her shoulders. She wasn’t sure how much more of the bastard she could take before her hatred seeped through. She had no idea what a chore it would be just to play nice.

Ez forced a smile onto her lips as soon as they halted before the ornate wooden door, Eustace’s hand pausing in mid-knock as he leaned towards her.

“The items you requested are in his room under the pillow...if the need to use them comes around. I’ll pray that it doesn’t.”

A slight nod and then the knock was given, the door opening shortly afterwards by a young woman dressed in white. Small of frame and carrying herself in a beaten manner, she led Ezra in and sat her before a mirror, the guard dismissed as soon as Aidan came up behind her.

“We will set your hair up,” he said, motioning for the girl to begin. “No need for it to get in the way.” He offered no further explanation, his hand falling to the scavver’s shoulder in a soft caress. She saw the smirk on his face through the mirror, her own baring no expression, her lips held tight to keep from cursing. He was testing her...pushing her limits...and if she wasn’t able to maintain her control, he would exceed them. A bloody battle would be the only possible result. Surely not the best way to end this little encounter. She managed a smile.

It took only a few minutes before her hair was braided then spun into a knot at the back of her head, a spray of delicate white flowers pinned along it. Her hair so tight away from her face made her look severe, and perhaps that was the plan. A hardened survivor would be cleansed, her sins forgiven at the ceremony of lost souls. Ezra had nothing but contempt for the idea, but this was not her party, she was just the crasher, and she would make sure he paid her back for this night.

With a hand offered, Aiden smiled as he brought her to her feet. “You will do well,” he said...and damn if he did not sound sincere. Years of practice had taught the man the art of manipulation, and he wielded it well. He urged Ez forward, his hand falling to her waist then sliding lower. “You will meet me back here...after…we’ll spend tonight together.”

Not on her life! “Like hell…”

A light chuckle fell from his lips. “Try not to curse Ezra-Rayne...Theophyllis does not care for foul language.”

There was no time for further retorts as the door was opened and Ezra was escorted out. She took her place at the end of the line, the group being led to the auditorium within the church in a single file. Guards were posted along the way, the ceremony seeming more a forced event that a joyous one. There would be no going back now.

[SikstaSlathalin]

*Shortly after Ezra laid down for her nap*

Drip...drip...drip...drip Moisture leaked down onto Jackal's head as he lay on the floor of his cell. The guards had not come back to chain the downed gunman back up. But considering he hasn't moved since Ezra left they likely assumed he was well and truly broken. He lost track of the time he lost in darkness of the dungeon. His body shook either from fever or the cold he couldn't tell, his mind has been detached from bodily sensations for two days.

All he feels is the constant numbing pain sometimes marked by the relentless burning when his body shifts in his sleep. Jackal's sleep was black and bottomless, no dream would graze his mind. Grandpa Gregor often said, a man doesn't dream when he has fears about what tomorrow will bring. Jack has always had worries and fears...during his crusade on the Black Jacks he worried about them finding his hideaway in Durcell and burning it down around him.

When roaming the wastes he worried about Crawlers or Clawvos killing and eating him while he slept in a hole in the ground. Every town and wilderness camping spot filled him with the same worries. Even when he was with Evy, safe and secure in their little apartment up in the rocks above Durcell. Did he ever dream when he was with Ezra? He couldn't recall...almost every place they've slept has been filled with the same dangers and worries as always...but with her he felt far safer and more relaxed than he ever did with Evy. Is that why he didn't dream?

Often the counterpoint to his Grandfather, his mother had another saying about dreaming. People dream to escape and sort out their fears. He'd always been fearless...at least on the outside...you have to be to live the life he lived. But in the quiet hours of the night when he couldn't sleep he thought about all the ways he could've...and likely should've died during the day. And facing that mortality did spark and ember of fear in him. Not enough to effect him overmuch...but enough to notice when he had no other distraction. Most times he didn't even register that ember of fear. He simply called it weakness and doubt before reminding himself about his mission, killing Black Jacks or more recently...discovering the Lost Mountains.

But with Ezra he usually slept the dark energizing sleep of oblivion. They had some fun, then his eyes would shut, and the next thing he knew it was morning and he felt better than ever. He hadn't dreamed since his torture had begun, but he simply chalked that up blood loss and sheer exhaustion. Or maybe deep down he wasn't afraid? Ezra, Sammy, and the others were free...and they had the map...what worries should he have? He would die, but his dream of saving humanity would live on in them. They wouldn't turn back to Carousel or Outpost 4 now that they've come this far...right?

No...Ezzy was a stubborn woman she wouldn't swallow the loss of numerous men, animals, and supplies and just tuck tail and run. She would carry on and make sure this whole trip wasn't a massive waste of time of that Jackal was sure...but then again he was also sure she wouldn't come back into this town once she had gotten away, and he was wrong there. He'd been wrong many times along this journey now that he had the time to think about. Trusting Gabe and his Black Jack goons to not try to backstab him and Ez..trusting the food in Liberty to just be normal food when it was drugged and led to his capture...trusting the people in this fucking place to not try to backstab him and Ezra. Seems everywhere he went trouble followed and took out it's frustration on not being able to end him on those he cared about around him.

"Those he cared about around him" The more he thought about that phrase the more it looked strange to him. When his family was killed he stopped caring about others..when Evy betrayed him he shut himself off and became an infallible killing machine instead of a man with flaws and a heart. Now he had a woman he loved, a bunch of lost and scrawny kids who looked up to him as a father, and even a second father in Deck. What he told Ezra at the gates of Endver about them being a family was more for her benefit than his...a sweet little lie to keep her composed and less likely to do anything rash. But did he actually feel that way himself? Was this rag-tag band of scavvers his...family?

Before he could delve deeper into that topic a soft light shined in Jackal's eyes and forced them to gently open. He groaned and slowly rolled away from it, the movement taking a monumental amount of strength to even muster the drive to accomplish. And as he shifted he both heard and felt the dried scabs of his back ripping open once more the blood flowing anew... the blood had dried somehow and made him stick to the filthy stone floor. He expected to hear a guard's voice, but instead he heard the soft chanting of an old man and the rustling of a hide bag. Jackal turned to question the noise when something was sprinkled across his back. Instantly everything sizzled and burned, being too exhausted to scream the lawman simply snarled and writhed on the floor. The chanting continued for a few seconds until the pain subsided greatly.

"You are strong Child of the Gun...very strong indeed." Rolling to his stomach he looked back and saw the old Tribal man Silver Bear again. Dressed exactly as before looking as comfortable in the cell as he did in Gia's Bunker and by the campfire near the Carousel Oasis complete with his bow and his old lantern attached to his walking stick.
He helped Jackal sit up and handed him a waterskin before he sprinkled and rubbed some kind of herbs onto Jackal's chest, again the pain thrashed him into a fetal position and his flesh sizzled like Grox bacon cooking by the fire. Like before the pain only lasted a few seconds before it was gone, panting heavily Jackal took some time to recover before taking a long pull of the waterskin nearly emptying it.

Once had his fill he handed it back and studied the Indian man incredulously. "How?...why?" Was all he managed to croak out.

The old man began chanting again as he spread the herbs across Jackal's hands and arms the pain flared on one final time, but dulled quicker than before. He then mixed some more herbs into a paste. "As I said before my son, I have traveled many places, and these False Men do not know the land as well as I." He pulled a biscuit of some kind out of his satchel and spread the herbal paste all over it with an ancient flint knife still chanting softly.

"But...why...are you...here?" Jackal asked the water helping him find his voice again.

Silver Bear handed the younger man the biscuit. "Eat this...you will need it."

The tall man studied the biscuit and the slimy dark green paste spread on it. It didn't look any more appetizing than the old bread and broth the guards had given him before, but something about the old man compelled Jackal to take the little cookie and shove it whole into his mouth. He expected a hard crunch like biting into a rock, but the treat was soft and warm...as if it was freshly backed. And the paste despite looking like snot tasted sweeter than honey and before he knew it both were gone and he found himself wanting more. Energy returned to him and the fog that had been covering his mind cleared a little. He looked around the cell the realization that he was no longer chained hitting him like a lighting bolt. The biscuit and paste energized him enough to quickly stagger to his feet and begin moving out of the cell.

But Silver Bear, who had remained seated in the cell called to him. "Back to treasure hunting Child of the Gun?"

The elder man's voice sounded almost disappointed and caused Jackal to stop and turn back.
"I'm getting the hell out of here...I need to find Ezra and the others and get as far away from this cursed town as possible."

Silver Bear frowned lightly packing his mortar, pestle, and the various herbs into the old bead satchel he was carrying. "So that is a yes then?"

Even more confused Jackal knelt back by the Native's side.
"Well of course...that's the whole reason we've gone through all this. The Treasure of the Lost Mountain is the single most important thing in human history! A way to fix everything wrong with the world that doesn't involve brainwashing people or killing innocents!"

Silver Bear shook his head lightly. Looking into the darkness in the corner of the cell.
"Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met my son?"

Squinting his eyes Jackal thought.
Be wary of treasure..."

Silver Bear nodded.
"It is more than a spot on the map."

Still squinting Jackal soot back up.
"Yes, and I know that. It's far more important than a spot on the map...it's the future of mankind! Now thank you for your help, but I don't have a lot of time before the bastards begin their blasphemous rituals! I need to get to Ezra!" The tall man turned and began walking.

The Indian simply gave a knowing smile and shook his head amused.
"You are half way there Jackal." He said softly to himself before standing and grabbing the retreating gunman by the arm. "You are too late Child of the Gun...the Woman of the Dirt and the Slaves of Freedom are already in position for tonight. You're leaving this cell will only endanger them."

Jackal's arm tensed, but Silver Bear's surprisingly firm grip kept him from yanking free. "So what should I do then?" He looked back at Silver Bear, his eyes clear and piercing.

Silver Bear let go of Jackal's arm his hand print lingering longer than one normally should. "Wait for your chance...your destiny is before you Child of the Gun. But it is not something that can be rushed...and you will have to endure far greater pain than you have before to realize it. But it will be all you have dreamed it to be and more. Just go in peace until destiny presents herself."

The lawman growled lightly and stared into the steady brown eyes of the old man daring him. But Silver Bear's gaze never changed...it remained as steady and knowing as before. Soon Jackal looked down and nodded. "So be it. But I have one question." Jackal looked up, but was met with only empty space. As before Silver Bear had just vanished, quickly scanning around him Jackal saw the distant bouncing glow of the old man's lantern at the very end of the dungeon. It seemed to turn a corner before vanishing leaving the lawman confused, but awake...or at least he felt awake. His body still ached, but it was far more manageable. He heard guards coming down the opposite corridor, moving back into his cell Jackal laid back down and assumed the same flat on his back position he had been left in. It was the same pair as before Zedekiah and Eustace. They carried food and clothing between them, the food almost looked fresh and the clothing was simple and stark white. A pair of pants and a long sleeved button up shirt. A few paces behind them came a couple of people wearing hoods and carrying a couple of buckets and towels.

Zedekiah entered first that same smug smile on his face as before. He placed the food down and smacked the lawman on the head. Silver Bear's parting words stuck out in his mind and instead of lashing out and snapping the dumb bastards arm off and beating him to death with it Jackal slowly opened his eyes. "Wakey wakey mutt, seems you been a good boy! The bosses wanna make you the guest of honor at the Atonement tonight. Now eat up, while these pretty little sluts scrub some of that dried blood off you." Zedekiah laughed and ripped the hoods from the people behind them then shoved them forward. Both were young girls barely ten years old and they were wearing short white togas of some kind. "Here mutt I know you like'em with dark hair so I special picked this one. Go say hello to Mr. Lawless, Tania!" He grabbed the younger of the two girls the one carrying the towels and shoved her into Jackal making her fall face first into his lap. His mock dead eyed composure cracked for an instant as the girl began undoing his destroyed pants, he pushed her back and shook his head. Zedekiah then kicked Jackal in the side of the head and knocked him out. He laughed shoving Becca's young daughter again making her half lay across Jackal. "Don't worry, we train'em right here. She'll be totally professional." Just before Jackal blacked out he saw Tania and the other young girl finish undressing him and began rubbing the cold water and towels over his body cleaning it.

[bluemoon]

The sun was just on its last rays of light before it set and the cool emotion filled night of Atonement was to begin in Endver. Torches lined the streets, and every house and store was being cleared by the guards before Yosemite and Aidan locked each door and window tight. No one sat out the Atonement Ceremony even if they had to be dragged out of their house in shackles or on a sled.

This was the night everyone purged themselves and the town was wiped clean for another year. Food was being cooked on multiple barbecue pits and kegs of ice cold water and sacred wine were being dragged up from the root cellars of the church. While most of the restaurants and the like served alcohol it was usually bathtub brewed or traded so the quality was lacking. But the Sacred Wine was a closely guarded secret that only Aidan and Theo knew about. There were no vineyards in Endver, but rumors persisted they used the underground springs and deep welled water to grow the rare grapes needed to make the wine. It was as sweet and clear as could be imagined and the alcohol content was enough to dull the people's senses for the Atonement, and make their lips loose so it was easier to get their sins out of them.

A band played various hymnals and casual chatter began bubbling around the Ceremony grounds. The grounds themselves were the large open courtyard of the church. Large bunches of vibrantly colored flowers bloomed all over the patch of green. Various statues and reliefs filled whatever nooks and crannies they needed to. In the middle of the courtyard was large stage made of beautifully stained wood. Two large wooden posts were erected at the back near the church and set exactly between the posts was the dangling body of Jackal. He was kneeling and dressed in the white clothes the guards had brought him, but the shirt was left wide open so the crowd could see the freshly bleeding crosses that were carved into his chest, marring his flaming cross tattoo some. His arms were stretched out and tied to the posts. In the middle of the stage was a large alter and podium decked out in gold fabric. The podium wasn't anything special, but the cross in the alter wasn't the same kind of cross as the lawman had tattooed on himself. It was canted off to one side and black as night, and instead of the gently squared points they were sharp and spear.

It looked a twisted version of the true cross, like the cult of Theophyllis and Aidan was a twisted version of the true faith they claimed to follow. Jackal kept his eyes listless and uninterested, but behind the clouded visage burned the cold rage he showed in the Salt Flyers camp.

It was the back of the kneeling man that the line of atoners saw as they were led past the tables and chairs set up in the auditorium and out through its doors into the yard. There were ten in all, the last of the confessors to be heard before the grand finale. Each had suffered many sins, and their punishments would be viewed not only by Theo and Aidan, but also by the entirety of the town. They were brought to the stage and ordered to stand between slender poles that were arranged in a line before the podium. Far to the right stood Ezra, her face impassive as she stared straight ahead, trying her best to avoid looking at the fresh wounds on her lover's chest.

As soon as they were situated, Theophyllis came to the stage and took his place behind the podium. Dressed in a white satiny robe with gold trim, he raised his hands to call forth his flock and opened the night's events with a prayer. Heads were bowed as he spoke, his voice silky smooth as he blessed all those in attendance. When his head lifted, the first of the wine was poured, each patron offered a glass despite their age. Tonight all were equal in their suffrage.

Even with the undertone of impiety, it seemed an affair of great celebration. The hymns played on and food and drink continued to be offered to those who were about the grounds. Only those on the stage were omitted, their one alcoholic beverage their only respite. One by one those of lesser sins were admitted to the stage, their declaration of wrong-doing heard by the preacher and their wage of atonement assigned. For Ez the wait was the worst, her gaze falling to Jackal despite her futile attempts to spare herself the pain of his injuries. He seemed as unresponsive as he had been when she last saw him and she could only look upon his battered body and hope there was still a spark of life left in him.

As the repenters prattled on Jackal actually wished he was still in the suspended animation he was a few hours ago. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to the townspeople's confessions. Theophyllis was at the podium holding up the bible he stole off Jackal, misquoting and consciously twisting passages to suit whatever bastardized sermon he was spewing while Aidan was in charge of administering the punishments, whatever they were. The townspeople gazed at him like some kind of idol and it sickened him. All night he'd been in the front row listening to things as stupid as a child confessing to stealing a pie and being punished by a spanking with a baker's paddle, to the grave confession of the Murder of a trader for their stock of whiskey. That man was forced to walk barefoot over ten broken bottles of whiskey. Jackal was surprised the guy made it to the end before passing out and being carried away by guards standing in the wings.

But from what he could gather these last ten were the worst of the worst. The sinners who crimes put them on par with the guards, Aidan, and Theophyllis. But Jackal knew he'd never see them confess, not without a blade pressed against their throats. As the final Confessional began Jackal took one last dead-eyed stare at Ez, finally realizing why she had come back when he sent her away. She was going to confess to these monsters to try and save him. Sadly he knew those two clowns wouldn't keep their word, Silver Bear's words kept playing over in his mind. But he still couldn't grasp what they meant.

The first sinner approached and pulled his shirt off. He already sported a few different wounds. He seemed to be a repeat offender.

Theo began raising his voice high and proud like he had done all night. "Martin Kline! Confess your crimes!"

Martin looked up at Jack the words Adultery smudged across his forehead in charcoal. "I...comm...committed Adultery!"

The crowd gasps lightly and Theo continued. "With whom!"

"I cheated on my wife with a woman from the Salt Flyers!"

"SINNER AND FRATERNIZING WITH AN INFIDEL! BRING FORTH THE BRAND OF THE BROKEN HEARTED!" Martin was dragged forward facing the crowd now as a woman approached carrying a long rod with the red hot brand of a heart with a line through it. Her eyes were puffy from crying and as she jammed the red hot rod into the man's chest, tears fell freely from her face, but they didn't look like the tears of anger, more tears of sorrow. Martin howled in pain as the brand marked him, he fell backwards unconscious before the guards dragged him away.

In the second spot, a man with a large girth stood trembling, his jowls animated almost comically. Aidan approached him, blowing smoke from a lit smudge stick into his face. A "G" for gluttony was drawn onto his forehead as Theo called from the podiumÂ…"Confess your sins Marshall Peabody!"

"I...have...not...sinned," came the tearful plea.

With a smile, Aidan tore open the man's white shirt, exposing the man's round belly. "You are guilty of the sin of excessive eating. While others go hungry, you fill your stomach will rich desserts. Do you deny this sinner?"

Marshall shook his head. As the owner of the only bakery in town, he had access to all of the sugary confections that he baked. With tears running down his cheeks, he swallowed loudly then lowered his eyes.

"I am a glutton."

"GLUTTONY, one of the seven deadly sins," called Theo. "May God have mercy on your soul...as I will not. You shall give a pound of flesh for your gluttonous ways."

As Aidan's hands secured Marshall's to the poles on either side of him, a guard stepped forward with a scale and set it near his feet. He withdrew a slender knife from his belt and nodded to the leaders before grabbing a thick handful of fat from the bellowing man's belly.

"One pound of flesh," he said as he made his first cut and dropped it onto the scale.

The screams cut out all other noise and Ezra found herself looking to Jackal for strength, his last glance offering her little hope. With a sigh of resignation her eyes dropped and she fought the dizzying sensation building in her head. Swaying, she grabbed the poles on either side of her with a white knuckle intensity, only her anger fueling her as she held herself steady, mentally counting the seconds before she could bring hell to the true sinners. This was not Atonement, it was cruelty, sadistic and merciless.

Once Marshall had been carried away, Jackal looked away from the jiggling pile of man flesh sitting on the scale. None of the sinners looked particularly happy to be up there. But next up was a woman with pale skin and black hair, across her forehead was E for Envy.

"Katniss Fairgreen confess your crimes!"

The woman did not say anything she simply stared at Jackal as if expecting him to do something. But soon the woman spoke. "I am envious."

"Of what!" Theo shouted loudly.

"I...envied...my neighbor's beautiful garden... so I ripped up all the plants and moved them to my garden."

"ENVIOUS THIEF, BRING FORTH THE KNIFE OF PERCEPTION!" Katniss was dragged away, her eyes an emerald green color, the lawman saw sadness behind them. But as she was dropped down beside the podium Aidan came forward with a long razor blade. He delivered two quick slashes over the woman's right eye, her screams pierced the air and her blood joined the countless droplets of others that had turned the front of the stage into a slick mess.

She was dragged off the stage like the others with the right side of her face bleeding profusely. Aidan hadn't removed the woman's eye, but he made sure she'd never use the right one ever again.

The next sinner was literally dragged up from his spot by two guards. His arms were bound in front of him and he was fighting the guards as they dropped him harshly on the ground. Wrath was written across his forehead.

"Alexander Deltorro! Confess your crimes!" Theo shouted brandishing Jackal's bible at the snarling man.

"THE ONLY THING I CONFESS TO IS JUST BREAKING THE FACE OF THE FUCKER WHO VIOLATED MY DAUGHTER I SHOULD'VE RIPPED HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!"

Unflinchingly Theo turned to the crowd and shouted. "WRATHFUL SAVAGE, BREAK THE OBJECT WITH WHICH HE ASSAULTED A TOWN GUARD!"

Like before the man was dragged forward and forced onto his face while a guard knelt down on his back. Alex fought violently, and he was a large guy. But a second guard sat down on his legs and a third guard yanked his arms forward. Aidan approached with a large sledgehammer, lining it up with both of the struggling man's arms and in two powerful swings he shattered them both. Mr. Deltorro roared in pain and rage, fighting even harder to get the guards off of him, but a cattle prod jammed into the side of his head knocked him out and allowed a guard to carry him away.

There was unrest from the remainder of the ten posed on the stage, murmured prayers whispered from some, while others looked ready to dart. Ezra had shut herself off, clearing her mind of all thoughts so she could float in the oblivion of nothingness. Sound was lost...as was sight...her eyes open but unseeing. It was a survival mechanism...one which allowed her to prepare her body for trauma, whether it be mental or physical. And it was thus she remained in a meditative state as the next victim was brought forth to the butchering block.

"RACHEL KIM YOU ARE ASSIGNED THE SIN OF SLOTH! TO SERVE IN GOD'S HOUSE ONE MUST PUT FORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN SWEAT! Show her the penance for her wasted hours!

The dark haired woman tried to remain stoic, but as the guards grabbed her arms and forced her to her knees she began to beg for mercy.

"God will have mercy on your soul only AFTER you have atoned." Theophyllis lifted the leather bound Bible and thumped it on the podium. "Make haste! There are others that await my cleansing."

A basket was strapped upon the back of the terrified woman and one by one the people of the town were urged to place a rock inside it. Those that refused were struck across their hands with a whittled stick, the few sufferers insuring the rest would comply. It was only when Miss Kim dropped to the stage's planks and begged for mercy again that she was relieved of her burden.

..and then the next sinner was brought forward.

"Andrew Cornwall what is your sin?" the elder preacher asked with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lined face. A "B" was drawn on the man's forehead in the ash of the smudge stick, his eyes clouded over with the early onset of cataracts.

"I know not, most esteemed leader," the man said, his voice pitching wildly.

"You do not know your sin? Or perhaps you have forgotten?"

When there was no answer, a man wearing a heavy leaden apron and gloves came forward with an iron rod, the tip of which was glowing a brilliant red. After being given a nod from the preacher, the blacksmith pressed the tool of pure cleansing to the man's back, a high pitched scream his reward.

"DO YOU REMEMBER NOW?"

"Please Theo..."

"You dare call me by name...you blasphemer...a sinner of the worst kind. You have betrayed your friends...your family...the leaders of this blessed town. And to what end? For a single piece of gold you spouted forth the secrets of the hot springs and brought the foul waste-landers to our gates."

The rod was once again pressed to the man's back, his screams becoming frantic when his shirt caught fire.

"Let him burn!" The words were picked up in a chant from around the stage, guards stomping their feet in excitement. A rough kick sent the poor sufferer off the stage and into the courtyard. It was only after his body dropped to the ground in a smoldering pile that the proceedings continued.

With each sinner punished it became harder and harder for Jackal to play the broken man card. Anger boiled up inside of him, this ceremony was a mockery of true repentance. The bloody display more akin to the very ancient pagan religions than what they were trying to sell. Belief should not built on a foundation like this. Blood does not need to be spilt to gain forgiveness, simply asking for it and working towards never sinning again was all that was needed.

But Theo and Aidan were like every other savage warlord Ragged America had spat out. They lusted for power and were more than happy to lie, cheat, steal, and kill to keep it. How many innocent lives had they ruined? How many good people died under their rule? This was why he needed to get out of here and find the Lost Mountains. Whatever the treasure was it'd be better than this...he was sure of it. As his contemplation grew deeper he felt the cold rage from the Salt Flyer Camp growing up inside of him. His eyes cleared for a few seconds and he stared at Ezra hoping her plan worked, because once he let the demon out he wasn't sure he'd be able to protect her from himself.

The next sinner was dragged forward, a woman again. This one was older and she had a very aristocratic look about her. Her white outfit was a little more elaborate than the others, closer to the old world ball gown and her hair was a snowy gray color, but held up in a high Duchess bun. Unlike the other sinners she hadn't cowered or been praying on her knees this whole time. She stood tall and unflinching. The lawman couldn't tell if she had come to terms with her punishment or was just too snooty to think any of this would matter. She knelt before the altar and bowed her head, the very picture of queenly reserve.

Theo, far beyond composed after all the bloodshed and excitement, shouted just as he had done the entire night. "Margaret Thatcher! Confess your crimes!"

With out missing a beat the old woman looked up and spoke as coolly as could be. "Pride." Was all she said...she didn't think anything else was needed.

Theo...enraged by her lack of reaction added more. "FAR MORE THAN PRIDE OLD HAG! YOU REFUSED TO STEP ASIDE FOR A GROUP OF SOLDIER ON THEIR WAY TO DRAG IN A MURDERER OF A GUARD! YOUR PRIDE ALLOWED THE KILLER TO ESCAPE TOWN WITH YOUR NEIGHBOR'S BLOOD ON THEIR HANDS!"

Margaret scoffed and stood up moving towards the punishment spot of her own accord. "I didn't think, letting the brother of an abused young boy take his revenge was something I needed to topple my basket of fruit for. They were the ones who thought it wise to march through my garden, that need I remind you is not even half the size of this stage. There was a perfectly good street no more than five feet away."

Aidan struck the old woman across the face, and despite herself she let out a pained yelp as the blow fell. "Be quiet crone, accept your punishment!" A pair of rusty scissors and a knife were brought onto the stage and between Aidan and another guard the old woman's head was roughly shaved, her gray locks falling like rain all around them before the wind picked up and blew them all away. Lastly, X's were slashed along her face and hands disfiguring this one queenly woman. She remained silent while her hair was cut and ripped from her head, but tears began falling as they took the knives to her.

After five minutes Margaret was bald and bleeding upon the stage. But aside from the tears of pain her face and demeanor were calm and collected. She was roughly shoved off stage and one of the last Sinners were brought forth. Like Margaret he was an older person, large in stature and belly, and with a shiny bald head. Jackal could hear the fabric of the man's clothing creak as he was forced to kneel. "Greed" was written across his forehead.

"William Granger! Confess your crimes!" Theo shouted one last time.

William snorted. "You fuckers call it Greed...I call it good business sense."

Ignoring the last part Theo turned back to the crowd holding the bible high as if about to call down lightening from the sky. "YOU STOLE HOLY ARTIFACTS FROM THE CHURCH! AND HAD THE GALL TO TRY AND SELL THEM BACK TO US!"

William stood up and laughed. "IT AIN'T MY FAULT YOUR LITTLE WEASEL OF A GUARD CAPTAIN HAS STICKY FINGERS! AND I SAW THE CHANCE TO MAKE SOME CHIPS TO PAY FOR YOUR FUCKING TAXES!" Aidan swung hard with a long board and knocked the larger William off his feet before the guards dragged him to the stage and forced him to kneel once more. Aidan had thrown down the board and picked up a large flat bladed axe. William fought back against the guards, but his left hand was yanked forward harshly nearly ripping his arm from the socket. But before the big man could yell Aidan's axe came down and cleaved the man's entire hand from his wrist.

The blood shot out like a geyser and William was thrown backwards howling in rage and pain. The man's yell only increased as a hot branding iron was jammed into his wound, cauterizing it and stopping the blood flow, filling the entire stage with the stench of even more burned flesh. He was then dragged off leaving just one more sinner before it would be Ezra's turn.

Theo's rheumy eyes fell on the next atoner with undisguised hate. Unlike the others, this man didn't have letters or a word smudged across his forehead. Instead, an inverted cross had been cut deeply into his skin and black ash had been rubbed inside. A young man of only twenty-two, Philip Bentley had his eyes closed in silent prayer as he was dragged to the podium by two guards.

"WHAT IS YOUR SIN?" cried the red-faced accuser. "TELL THE GOOD PEOPLE OF THIS TOWN JUST WHAT IT IS YOU HAVE DONE!"

Philip's eyes opened and he adjusted his gaze to meet those of the town's religious leader. It was obvious he had been crying, but his voice was steady and strong when he spoke. "I do not pray to the God you worship. My God is merciful and just. He helps his flock with a guiding hand, not a sword of evil. You are the devil! Your God is Satan and you will rot in Hell!"

The old man's face fumed with anger, the Bible in his hands slamming down on the podium as he spoke, emphasizing his words. "YOUR SIN IS WORSHIPPING A FALSE IDOL!! THIS MAN IS A HEATHEN! HE PRAYS TO A DIFFERENT GOD, BUT THERE IS ONLY ONE! YOUR PUNISHMENT IS DEATH! YOU DESERVE NO LESS THAN A PURE CLEANSING!"

Philip did not resist as he was dragged back to the slender poles, his hands securely tied to them as he closed his eyes once again and began to pray. A glowing brand was driven against his body, his screams punctuating each strike, but his lips continued to move in supplication to his God. When the flames started and spread across his lithe form, his bonds burned through and he slumped to the ground, no further sound heard from him as he perished in the blaze.

It was at that moment that Ezra's eyes opened to the carnage. She might have avoided hearing the screams of the damned, but there was no escaping the aftermath. Blood was pooled on the scorched stage, and the remains of at least one man still smoldered. Blinking rapidly, she took in a deep breath as she continued to look around, only to see Aidan walking towards her. It was her turn.

Not bearing any mark on her forehead, Ez was brought forward to stand in front of Theophyllis like the others before her. The man regarded her with open amusement, then cast his gaze behind him at the bound gunman. Silence...then a clearing of his throat.

"Ezra-Rayne Bastian. You have been brought to us from the unforgiving wastelands, back to your home for judgement. Your sins are many, and while you deserve nothing but the strongest hand of God to punish your soul, I have been asked to be lenient, so that you may give back to the church in servitude. A request that I will honor despite my misgivings.

So, tell me...WHAT ARE YOUR SINS?"

The scavver took a deep breath and held it, her attention turning to Jackal briefly before she addressed the pastor. She had been warned to be forthgiving...to tell ALL her sins or her deal with the younger leader would be forfeited...and her friends...and family...would suffer the consequences. She had rehearsed in her head numerous times, but finding the courage to speak aloud was hard...

She breathed out.

"I am guilty of excessive drinking...alcohol of any kind...and I am a thief...a scavver...but I have taken more than just artifacts. I take what I want...more than I need...and sell the rest."

She swallowed hard, her shoulders rising with her next intake of breath, her eyes shifting to the crowd. "I had a child when I was barely more than one myself...and I sold her. ...and just as predicted, I continued to use my body for gain, many times over. I am also a killer of men, for defense, but also for revenge. The blood of many is on my hands."

It was getting harder for her to breathe, her heart pounding in her chest as an acidic fluid crept up her throat. Her eyes burned. Her stomach flipped. What she had done was no more than many others in the name of survival, but her guilt weighed heavy on her as she forced herself to continue. "I killed my mother...I betrayed her...and..."

She couldn't get the rest of the words out, her eyes filming over as she tried to hold back the tears. She held her place, trembling not in fear, but with the memory of putting her pistol to her mother's head.

"That's enough," Aidan said, nodding to Theo who then placed his hand upon the podium and leaned forward.

"Ezra, you will atone for the sins of GLUTTONY OF DRINK, GREED, LUST, BETRAYAL, AND WRATH. Bring out the sacrificial dagger."

Hands clamped onto her arms and the scavver tried to pull away from them instinctively, getting herself under control only with difficulty. She only had to take the punishment and then it would be over. The pain would subside. She struggled inwardly, but managed to walk of her own accord between the two guards as they brought her before a small table.

"Right or left?" Aidan asked.

"I don't..."

Her left palm was thrust flat on the tabletop before she could finish, a startled cry escaping Ezra's lips as an ornately etched silver blade was driven through her hand, pinning her. As crimson blood trickled from her hand, several bottles of the cherished red wine were set before her.

"Drink."

She shook her head, confused as to what they wanted from her, although the command was clear enough.

"Drink the wine whore."

Bringing the bottle to her lips, she started to pour it into her mouth, Aidan's hand lifting the bottom higher and causing the contents to spill down the front of her dress. Ezra pulled back and her gaze met with Aidan's, a red fury building in her that she barely pushed down.

"You will drink until you purge."

When she did not comply immediately, Aidan twisted the dagger, driving it deeper into the wood and widening her wound. She did not honor him with a whimper, her teeth gritting against themselves with the pain.

"You will drink...and now. Bring the child."

A scream came from the crowd as a small child was dragged from her mother's arms. Ezra recognized the doe-eyed girl, her dark hair pulled from her face in a pony-tail. Tania.

"No," was all she said before she put the bottle back to her lips and drank. She barely took a breath as she swallowed the liquid, her stomach starting to churn as the second one was emptied. When the urge came to vomit, she turned her head, the frothy red-tinged bile spewed onto Aidan's white robe in a jet.

Her head rocked back with the slap that was delivered, but already her next punishment was on its way. Her head was grabbed on either side by the guards and Aidan took a handful of her disheveled hair, the bun and spray of flowers unraveling in his grip.

"Her face," he said, "..the little bitch is going to think of me every time she looks in the mirror."

The brand was in the shape of the letter "M" and Ezra fought against the men that held her, to keep it from touching her face. When she felt the heat against her cheek and heard the sizzle, she jerked, nearly screaming, her movement causing the mark to elongate, creating a shadow-like extension.

When her right hand was placed on the table, she gave up her struggles, her body sagging and all the fight going out of her as another brand was pressed into her skin. A capital "B" for betrayal. As Aiden stepped away Ezra lifted her gaze to look at Jackal, her vision blurring as she stared at his face. Too much drink...and stress...she was starting to fade.

"LUST! BUT WHAT ABOUT HER LUST?" The preacher's voice burst out, his words pulling Ezra out of the fugue state she was slipping into. "Her lover...her fake husband...the man she had fornicated with for so long...he will take her last punishment onto his self. BRING HIM!"

The scavver shifted her gaze...Eustace...she had to locate the man. She tugged against the blade restraining her, but it was futile. There was only one option...because it had to come out. The fire had been in Jackal's eyes...his rage...it would happen soon.

She gave the anticipated nod and reached for the blade pinning her down just as Jackal's hands were being untied. The dagger rocked back and forth in her grip, her teeth grinding together as she felt it loosen from the wood.

"Get down!" she yelled to Tania, the girl standing stock still on the stage in fright.

The knife came free and Ezra fell back, Tania dropping to her belly as instructed. Aidan's head came up in shock. Theophyllis roared.

-------------------

As the last sinner was brought forth and his crimes known, Jackal dropped the façade of being broken. One of the very few believers left in this fucking wasteland and he was being accused of idolatry and burned alive. For believing in the real message of the bible, about a just and caring God. Sure He punished the wicked, but only when they had thrown away every chance He gave them to be better. The God Jackal knew loved his children so much that he never gave up on them until they had passed into the afterlife.

And even then when the Rapture came, they would be given a second chance to join him in paradise. Only the truly evil would stay in hell when God came calling to them. His arms tensed up and he heard the ropes and posts groaning against the new tension. Jackal's rage was on the cusp of ripping his arms from the sockets, to get free and rip these False Men to pieces with his bare hands and teeth.

And by the time Ezra's punishment came, the lawman was gone. His eyes were flat, but burned with the cold rage that always lingered just below the surface. With only years of discipline keeping it in check, some had asked what his secret was to ignoring pain and easily slipping into an explosive rage. And he always gave them the same answer. His secret was...he was always angry.

He endured watching the woman he loved being tortured, his body heating up with anger and the binds around his wrists groaning more and more, the posts even beginning to bend inwards slightly as the woman was stabbed through the hand, forced to drink wine until she threw up, then branded twice. So when the time came for him to take her punishment for lust, he had a plan ready. It'll possibly be the last rational thought he would make until this town was a pile of ash on the horizon. Vash was too far away for him to signal the massive beast to his aid...this would be his rage...and his rage alone.

His face didn't flinch as he heard Ezra's cries of pain. But as soon as his hands were free he let out a bestial roar, making the guards who had untied him jump out of their skins. And whether Jackal knew it or not, his yells would be the signal of the revolution Becca and her rebels were waiting on. From throughout the crowds similar yells were heard as the hidden rebels attacked. While the ceremony had been going on at least half of the guards outside of the Ceremony grounds were quietly dispatched and replaced with guards loyal to the Rebels. They quickly fired their guns, killing even more of the guards that hadn't been replaced. Then from the heart of the confessed sinners, people charged and began beating the guards within the courtyard to death before stealing whatever weapons they could to press the remaining men loyal to Theo and Aidan. Not all of them succeeded, but this was all white noise to Jackal.

Silent as the grave, Jackal grabbed the nearest guard and snapped his neck before the man could even reach for his sidearm. Never slowing down the enraged lawman grabbed the dead man's body and spun on his bare heel, hefting and throwing the body at his nearest comrade. The speed with which the man hit him caused the other guard to lose the gun he had drawn. It was quickly picked up by a rebel and began adding to the death toll. Pressing his attack Jackal slammed his hand into the man’s throat, the meaty section between the thumb and forefinger acting like an axe blade crushing the man's airway and stifling his scream. As his dead ally smashed him into the right post of the stage, the beam snapped like a tree branch and crashed down upon the bodies of the two men, killing the second one on impact.

Despite only a few seconds passing, everything was moving in slow motion for Jackal. Ez was free, and Aidan...the sole object of Jackal's rage...was before him, all civilized bravado gone. Jackal saw fear in his once clear focused eyes. Moving like a battering ram Jackal grabbed up the twisted cross the fools had been worshiping. It was a hefty piece of wood, but in his rage it felt light as a feather to Jackal, who hurled it directly at Aidan. But the coward had recovered quicker than expected. He grabbed the guard Zedekiah and shoved him into the path of the missile. Panic and confusion crossed the cruel guard's face as the chunk of wood crashed into him, the top point of the cross impaling him through the chest and making him crash backwards, destroying the table Ez had just been freed from.

He was dead on impact, but Jackal was already upon him, ripping the long hunting knife from the dead man's belt and continuing his attack on Aidan. The leader let out a blood curdling scream before he ran and jumped from the stage, dropping into the very heart of the melee in the courtyard. Jackal easily followed, but just as he landed in the blood soaked dirt a couple of fierce yells came from behind him. Back on the stage, the guards who had been manning the flaming brazier and keeping all the brands hot, attacked. They quickly dumped the entirety of the brightly burning container onto Jackal before a rebel cut them down with two well-placed bullets. The heavy iron bucket fell with the flaming coals, smashing Jackal into the ground.

Thinking he had been beat, Aidan turned his back on the presumably dead lawman, picking up a discarded gun and firing into the crowd around him, not caring if he killed rebels or his own men...he just wanted order to return. He had just emptied the clip of the rifle when the distinct sound of heavy metal being thrown aside turned him white as a ghost as he turned around. The brazier was tossed aside and Jackal...whose body and hair were literally on fire...stood up tall, still clutching the hunting knife, the flames reflecting menacingly across the steel. Aidan wasn't the only one to see the otherworldly spectacle, many fighters both rebel and not, stopped for a few seconds, fear filling all of their eyes and hearts. Some even dropped their weapons and ran like the devil himself had broken through the earth to exact a fiery vengeance upon the damned town. Despite being one with fire, Jackal showed no sign of feeling the pain...he was beyond pain now...he was death...and he would not be kind to those who had earned his ire. And then he spoke...his voice barely audible above the sounds of battle...but to Aidan they were as clear as the fires around the pair. "Blade with whom I have lived, blade with whom I now die. Serve right and justice one last time, seek out one last heart of evil, still, one last life of pain, kill well old friend, and then farewell."

Saying nothing more Jackal charged at Aidan, who had forgotten the weapon and fresh mag he had in his hand at the sight of the tall man charging him, the flames licking behind him like fiery wings. Throwing both items down he ran through the crowd with Jackal hot on his heels. The people still left in the courtyard forgot their own feuds and pulled each other out of the hellish angel of death's way.

---------------

Ezra clutched her wounded hand to her chest briefly, Jackal’s roar motivating her to get to her knees, enabling her to crawl under the table towards her friend’s frightened child. Still holding the sacrificial knife in her right hand, her head lifted towards the gunman only after she had brought the child to her, her body acting as a shield. A trembling sigh left her lips...gone was the man that had pulled her to him in the bunker with fear in his eyes...and the man who had made love to her in the water just outside the walls of this cursed town. The visage before her was hell itself...reborn in the body of the man she loved.

She didn’t wait to see the results of his carnage, her first goal to bring the child to safety. Wielding the knife before her, she jumped down to the courtyard and searched the crowd, easily locating her childhood friend, who was already moving in her direction. Bodies pressed against her in the panic, but it was only a few moments before she was able to tuck the girl into her mother’s arms, Ez offering Becca a grim smile and a nod.

“She’ll be fine...but Theo...I have to get to him,” she said in a rush, hoping Becca would understand. Turning, she pushed her way through the throng of people again to get back to the stage. The deck atilt, Ez climbed back up the steps with difficulty, the few guards remaining being cut down by the rebel army as Theophyllis screamed for the opposing forces to repent...to drop their weapons and pray for forgiveness. Her teeth clenched, Ez joined the fight as best she could, managing to take out a wounded guard that was fleeing as she moved towards the podium.

It was then that screams exploded behind her, the scavver turning just in time to see Jackal rearing up from beneath a glowing metal container which had been toppled on its side. The moment seemed frozen in time, the woman unable to move until she was nearly knocked from her feet by the most hated nemesis of her years. Her gaze shifted to the jaded holy man, a sneer marking her features as she growled. But it was to the lawman that her focus returned, no matter the consequences, his form retreating quickly down a path opened before him by the crowd. Could she make it to him in time to offer aid? Torn by indecision, her heart nearly broke when she turned her back on the sight of her lover aflame, her destiny calling her in the opposite direction...towards Theo’s white robes billowing behind him as he ran for the sanctity of the church.

Ezra ran in pursuit. It was only the sudden surge of adrenaline that gave her the ability to pursue the preacher. Blood marked her passage, her hand bleeding freely as she flew through the halls, her mind mostly numbed by drink. Revenge was her second fuel, and as the old man fumbled with the door to his room, she nearly closed the distance, slowing enough to allow him to slip inside. She continued on for several more feet, Aidan’s room her true destination. A few well aimed kicks and a bit of further persuasion from her knife and she was inside.

Ezra crawled onto the young leader’s bed, throwing aside the pillows as she searched for the items Eustace had left for her. They were right where he had said, and with an urgency she grabbed up the set of keys and a revolver, the latter being the only hope she had to stop this madness. Her gaze shifted to the wall that separated the two men’s rooms and the sounds she heard within. Getting to her feet, she sighed heavily and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

“I’m coming old man...prepare yourself for your maker.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The power of fear can be a tremendous motivation for speed. And when a fiery avenger was at your heels, you forgot all other motivations. Aidan and Jackal had long left the carnage of the revolution behind them. The flames that had been licking along the lawman's shoulders and upper back had put themselves out. The pain was beyond words and it would take many days or even weeks for the wounds to fade, but the fact most of Jackal's back was already scar tissue maybe it wouldn't.

Running through the streets in a blind panic Aidan moved like a Kufu being pursued by a Crawler. Leaping over boxes, smashing through fences, anything to put as much distance between himself and the grim reaper coming to claim his liar's soul. For years the young holy man has been deluding himself into thinking he was above any retribution. He didn't believe in the idiotic ideals of religion, they were a means of control and power nothing more. There was no God...no heaven...no morality scale to weigh your good deeds and bad deeds against. You live your life, do whatever it takes to live it comfortably, and look out for number one. When you die you just rot where you fall, Aidan believed in the circle of life and nothing else. And this town was a honey comb of ignorant simpletons just asking to be leeched off of. And even if he had to tolerate the old man's propensity for young girls every day there was a plan in place to get rid of him in a year's time. Theophyllis would die in his bed a few days before the next Atonement. And then the power over this town would be all his!

But here it was...retribution for living a lie his entire life. If the smouldering specter behind him howling for blood was any indication of a divinity though Aidan for the first time in his life feared for what might be waiting for him in the afterlife. And as he met the barred gates of town he would be getting that answer very soon. Banging futilely on the gates Aidan turned and grabbed a bit of discarded rebar, facing the still smoking lawman. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air as Jackal slowed his chase his face locked into a stone-like visage of quiet rage. He wasn't even breathing heavily, Aidan readied his improvised weapon and began to speak...in some vain hope of trying to talk his way out of his death. But Jackal's knife whipped by his head slashing his face like a razor before the merciless avenger was upon him. Bypassing the false man's weapon Jackal's hands came around his throat and slammed his head hard against the wooden door. Stunned Aidan dropped the bar. Not missing a beat Jackal brought the knife up and stabbed it into Aidan's chest, locking eyes with the young fool and watching the light within his eyes dim and die, before his last breath misted into the cool night air. Leaving the knife in Aidan's chest Jackal grabbed him by his collar and dragged him back through the town being sure to leave a blood trail in his wake.

Upon seeing both of their esteemed leaders running away screaming like frightened children many of the guards simply threw down their weapons. The revolution had sparked up in an instant and in the next instant it seemed to have died out. The losses were numerous, but the town would survive and best of all the flames upon the stage were put out before they reached the hidden explosive. So by the time Jackal returned the crowd had settled down to tend to their wounds. As they saw the grim reaper walking towards them fear took hold and they flocked as far from him and his grisly package as possible. Not sparing them a single glance he heft the dead body of Aidan like it was a sack of rocks and threw it into the center of the courtyard the knife still embedded deep in his chest.

The people gasped, staring intently at the listless face of their former leader, the knife wriggling a little as his body came to rest. Following the body Jackal stopped beside the corpse, looming over it as his dead steel eyes roamed the frightened townsfolk. Giving a slight snarl Jackal lifted his voice to the sky and shouted at the top of his lungs. "SIC...SEMPER...TYYRRRAAANNNNIIISSS!" Becca and her rebels joined him in his cries and soon the whole town was shouting this battle cry to the heavens above.

The shouting carried on for a few minutes before the jubilation died down, but when the townspeople looked towards the man who might be their new leader Jackal was no where in sight. Just Aidan's dead body and the knife that had ended his tyranny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ezra stood outside the preacher’s door with the key ring in her hand, her single-minded determination closing off the noises of the rebellion in the distance. Her upper lip twitched as she grasped the handle, a scowl painted on her pursed lips as she rifled through the selection. It was the third key which fit the lock, the scavver shouldering the door open and searching the room quickly before zeroing in on the old man toting his belongings as he prepared to exit his room through a back access.

“Theophyllis!” she shouted, stopping the man in his tracks as he turned towards her voice. The sound of a weapon firing in the small space was deafening, Ez growling as she rushed the old fool and slammed into him as he faltered, forcing his back against the door and slamming it shut. Blood stained the leader’s white robes, the crimson fluid flowing from a fresh wound in his shoulder. Much to his credit he had not cried out, his shock too sudden and the pain which followed blurred by his tumble to the floor.

The two struggled against each other, Ezra pulling at the strap of the bag Theo had managed to hang on to despite his injury and fall. It was a tie. Neither had the strength to oppose the other, but the woman shoved her thumb into his new orifice, giving her an unfair advantage.

“Little whore,” Theo bellowed, his teeth gritted in pain. He reached, grasping for the stolen article and what lay within, but Ez was faster, getting to her feet and taking the few steps she needed to escape his hand. Huffing out a breath, she dumped the contents on the floor, a carefully wrapped object barely touching the wooden surface before it was lifted and pulled to her chest.

“I am what you made me preacher,” she said in a low tone, her eyes narrowing. “...and this…this is not yours.” She regarded the man with little pity as he clamped a hand to his wound and struggled to get to his feet, his eyes heavy on the item she held.

“You will burn in hell…” he gasped, “...the Lord will not have mercy on your sinning soul. I denounce your penance...I deny your atonement…”

“You deny nothing Theo...you are nothing.” She raised the pistol and fired again, the bullet striking flesh only a few centimeters below the first. Theo howled in agony as he dropped back to his side, his robes falling open as he kicked against the floor.

Laughter...soft yet cruel...issued forth from Ezra’s lips. “Does it hurt sir? Can I get you anything for the pain? I think I have just what you need.” The words were spoken as she moved silently through his room, her slippered feet leaving behind prints in blood. With a gentleness that belied her mood, she laid the revered Bible on a shelf before addressing the man again.

“You. Will. Never. Hurt. Another. Child. Again.”

She came to his side and reached down, her fingers entwining into the silken material of his collar as she yanked him upwards, his face brought to within inches of her own. Her hazel eyes bored into his of blue. “My face will be the last thing you ever see. Get a good look preacher...I am bringing you to hell.” She shoved him away, releasing her grip at the same time. As his head slammed back onto the floor with a crack, she circled, this time grabbing his collar from the back and dragging his semi-conscious form across the floor to his bed.

When Theo regained his sense, Ezra was sitting on the edge of his mattress, the sacrificial dagger gripped in her right hand as she drew the blade lightly along the fingertips of her left. Blood stained her white dress, the edges of her own gaping wound continuing to ooze. With his hands tied over his head and his mouth covered with a soiled cloth, the old man could do little but stare as the scavver lifted her gaze and smiled.

“Shall we begin princess? I’d hate for you to wait.” She tilted her head as she regarded him, the muffled sounds coming from behind his gag meaning nothing to her. His robes already lay open, his pale skin stretched tight over thin limbs. She touched the blade to his skin and drew it down lightly, a narrow line appearing in red. Each knick that followed touched the last, Theo thrashing wildly as his punishment was played out.

Time lost its meaning and Ezra started to drift, her focus becoming blurred. How long had she been in the preacher’s room, she wondered. Theo was covered in a thin film of red, her own hands much the same, but still the bastard stared at her, mocking her attempts to drive out his demons. Her anger returned at once, her heart beating faster and her breaths puffing out in rapid succession. She paused long enough to rip off his gag, her weapon moving in close to his throat.

“Any last words preacher?”

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…”

“No!” she screamed, slapping the man hard across his cheek and rocking his head sideways. “You will not pray...you foul bastard!”

“No more…”

The dagger plunged into the man’s neck...was pulled out then driven in again. Over and over the scavver drove in the blade, sweat starting to run down her face and neck, soaking into the stained clothing which clung to her damp body. She became lost in a fog, her screams unheard by her own ears, her body continuing the assault without thought.

The door to the preacher’s room opened a short time later, a stocky figure entering the space as silent as a ghost. Ezra was unaware until she was grabbed from behind, her wrists seized in a firm grip as she was pulled back into solid muscle. She fought, trying to wretch her hands free, the warm breath against her neck causing her to panic. She smelled spice...blood...and coffee.

“Ezra...stop.”

The voice was familiar and for a moment she paused in her efforts, feeling a desire to just allow herself to be held, to give in to the exhaustion which plagued her. “I can’t…”

“Shhh…it’s over Ez...we’ve won the rebellion...we’ve taken the town.”

“No...I still have work to do...Theo must be stopped.” She turned her wrists in his grip, her strength no match for the man who held her. But still she had to try.

“Theo is dead...many times over…”

“No! He has escaped death before. I have to be sure...I have…”

“Ezra…” Deck’s voice was calm..reassuring. “He’s dead and not coming back. You’ve nearly beheaded him. It’s time to go.”

She sagged then, her eyes lifting to look at the carnage she had created. Silent tears streaked down her cheeks as she let her friend turn her around and pull her into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

The cook smoothed down her hair and brought her head to his shoulders. “It’s okay Ez...I have you. It’s time to rest.”

[SikstaSlathalin]

Once his deed was done Jackal was gone like a wisp in the wind. The cheers of the townspeople were lost on him. The quiet rage burned hotly within him, last time he lost it like this he lucked out and went unconscious from blood loss. But he was wide-awake and his mind fell into the same survival mentality he did back in Durcell. Whenever he killed a target he instinctively vanished to lick his wounds and plan his next target.

The only difference this time was he had no next target in mind. He simply needed to leave, his first stop was to find the gear stolen off himself and the others. The town was in shambles and most of the guards were dead or in the courtyard with the rebels. So it took a matter of minutes for him to find the chest in the armory of the church's basement. Their items were all tossed into a box haphazardly, even their guns and knives. He found himself questioning their reasoning behind such a display, the weapons were good quality and the blades sharpened and rust free. The clothing was also good, but they weren't all sizes fit all.

Still he was glad they were all in one place. Grabbing his own clothes and weapons first he pulled his pants and boots on first before he quickly strapped his pistol belt and machete on before he slung his rifle over his shoulder. As the metal rifle hit the still painful burns upon his back though he let out a deeply pained hiss. Looks like he'll be going shirtless for a bit, grabbing up the rest of his group's items he gently draped his long coat over his shoulders to at least keep the wounds clean until he could find proper bandages. He exited the church and neatly folded and sorted his group's items upon the steps before leaving on long light steps heading for the gates of Endver.

Like the Church the gates were unguarded, but even if they were Jackal's eyes and stiff deadlike movements would've scared them off. His flat dead eyes scanned the darkened landscape, they locked on a tall flat hill to the East. His bible and map would be safe with Ezra and the others, he simply needed to get away. He had borrowed some bandages and salve from Sammy's bag and endeavored to reach the top of that hill and begin trying to wrap his wounds.

[bluemoon]

Ezra had no idea how long it had been since Deck had brought her to her room, but it felt like hours. It was actually only a fraction of that time, the woman left sitting at the end of her bed, staring at the door with a glazed expression. Sammy had already come and gone, having cleaned and bandaged her mother’s injuries and helping her wash up the best that she could. A pile of clothes and weapons sat next to the scavver...her belongings that had been found on the church steps, presumably left by the gunman.

No one knew where Jackal Lawless had gone, and it was that bit of information that kept her awake, biding her time until everyone was situated either in bed or at the local diner. The others had given up the search until morning light, but there was little that would stop Ez from continuing the quest. He was her responsibility. She had caused him to rage...and she would find him tonight...no matter the cost.

Silence finally fell on the narrow hall outside her room, and Ezra stood, undoing the sash on her ceremonial dress and allowing it to fall to her feet. It was hard to tell its original color, the blood staining it now dried and flaking. With a painful groan, she reached for her clothes, working the material over her aching body and following it with her weapons. She was not much to look at, her reddened eyes and sagging posture giving the impression of pure exhaustion, the fact of which was true, but the will was stronger, and with a final grimace, she straightened up and walked from her room, unknowingly taking almost the same path as Jackal had on his way out of the town.

The walls were now guarded, but the scavver was allowed to pass without interruption, the men nodding their heads to her as she went through the gates. Pausing briefly, she stared out at the darkness which shrouded their abandoned camp, deciding against venturing in that direction. She would go forward, not back, and with that in mind, she turned towards the hills, narrowing her eyes to check her footing as she began to climb.

Ezra climbed on for what seemed like hours, getting no where, but in her exhausted state it could've just been a few minutes. As she crested what seemed like the hundredth hill, she saw a small yellow light bobbing up and down opposite her. Soon a wrinkled face appeared in the small aura of light. It was an old man with deeply tanned skin and a long mane of silver hair. He approached the woman, a benign smile on his ancient face as he handed her his canteen of water. "Hello Woman of the Earth, I expected to meet you sooner or later."

Under normal circumstances, the scavver would have had her hand on her gun holster, ready to draw and remove a possible threat. But tonight had been a night of surprises, her mind interpreting the strange visage as genial before her toned reflexes could take over. She regarded the man curiously, taking his offering without pause. How odd his greeting, she thought as she uncapped the water and drank deeply.

"You appear to know me...how is it that I cannot say the same?"

Silver Bear answered her question with an amused chuckle. "I'm sure you have heard my name, though perhaps not for many moons. I am Silver Bear, I have crossed paths with the child of gun you follow a few times during your long journey. And it seems once again he and I travel the same path once more." He took the canteen back and straightened his back groaning softly as he looked to the Eastern Hilltop. "I can help you find him...but he will not be the same man you knew. Something has...changed in him...he is much more like a wounded dog than he will let on. Do you still wish to find him?" The old man asked softly offering the woman his hand to help her up over the crest.

"It is not I that follow..." she began, thinking to correct the elder, but dropping the thought as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "..and yes, Jackal has mentioned you...but I thought you were nothing more than a dream." Her lower lip slipped between her teeth and she made a whistling sound. "Seems you are a bit more."

Sighing heavily, she then put her branded hand into his, allowing him to assist her while marveling at the solidity of his grip. Pain radiated along the back of her bandaged right hand, but she gritted her teeth to it, her balance suffering more than her body.

"I would still like to find him," she answered. "His pain is mine, and I need to make things right."

Silver Bear chuckled. "You are good for him Ms. Rayne." Taking the lead in silence the old Indian led Ezra along a gradually climbing slope, the pair moving on in silence until they reached the highest foothill outside of Endver. Taking a breath Silver pointed to the hunched over and shaking silhouette of Jackal as he shivered in the cold, trying to use the pool to clean his burns and wrap them. "There he is Woman of the Earth." Reaching into his satchel the old man pulled out three medium sized clay bottles and handed them to Ezra. "These will help, apply a small handful twice a day until the bottles are empty."

"Will you come with me?" she asked as she looked over the medicine in her hands. She felt a strong pull to go to the man she loved, but there was also the warning the specter had given her to consider. The presence of the guide might aid her in helping Jackal, especially if the rage was still in his heart. With a sigh, she turned her gaze to the side, waiting on the old man to answer her.

All that answered her question was a low amused chuckle and a voice like the sighing of the wind. "You don't need me Ezra, go to him." There was nothing but empty space beside the woman and a distant light bobbing into a great distance back along the hilltops.

-----------

The next few steps were the hardest for the scavver, each one bringing her closer to uncertainty. She didn't move silently, not wanting to surprise the gunman into an action which she might not be able to control. She took in a deep breath, stopping several yards away from his trembling form. She had no doubt that he would recognize her, but would he accept her? There was nothing to do but try.

In a voice that betrayed her fears and apprehension, she called out his name.

Lost in the pain...lost in the rage...lost in his failure. Jackal's mind and body were on different planes of existence since he was tortured what felt like weeks ago. But in the scarce few minutes of lucidity he'd had between now and then he'd thought it couldn't have have been more than three or four days. The trip to the pool was like a waking dream, the ground and the sky a constantly swirling mess of dark and light. Each rub of his rough leather coat on his scorched skin was like rubbing sandpaper over the wounds.

The pain was the only thing that was real to him. Even his own breath was a disjointed sound, like he couldn't picture it coming out of his mouth. It belonged to someone else...something else...for he was not a man...he was a beast boiling over with his own demons as they fought for control of his mind and body. He was a spectator in his own existence, whoever was driving him took his pants, guns and coat off, and simply dropped him into the unwavering cold of the pool. It shocked him into wakefulness for the first time in so many days. And just like his days in Durcell the weight of his sins and his monstrous rage stared him boldly in the face with the intensity of one hundred suns. It burned what was left of his shattered mind, reliving the murder of Aidan, the Atonement, and the confessions of others, his foolishness at allowing himself to be fooled in both Endver and Liberty. Every step of this journey had been part of a disaster following him for years, and usually he didn't care who suffered along the way. When they started this suicide mission he had fully intended to embrace that same mindset. By the time they reached Outpost 4 though something drastically changed, he still couldn't place what that was. It was more lust and chance that drew Ezra and him into that bed together.

And from there? He had no clue...so many thoughts...feelings...plans...worries...pain, lots and lots of pain. That one word described his entire existence even before he was orphaned. Training with his grandfather was pain, breaking bones and busting his lip as his first shot with a rifle kicked back on him. Growing up more of the same, then he became what he was now, the Wasteland Vigilante, Bringer of Justice where there was none. Lost in these thoughts he didn't feel his still nude body shivering wildly, his hands moving on their own trying to apply salve and wrap his bandages. But when he heard footsteps approach and heard a disembodied voice call his name he spun around, his hand grabbing his pistol as he stood up, his eyes wild and afraid, hand visibly shaking. "Ez....Ezzz....Ezra?" His eyes were clouded and unfocused, but she could hear fear in his voice as well, something she'd likely never heard from him before.

Ezra had been expecting to find Jackal suffering from his injuries, but it was his state of mind that seemed to have taken a severe blow from his experiences in Endver. She felt a heaviness in her chest, her love for him deepening in that moment. Shocked by his demeanor, her resolve to help him strengthened despite the weapon aimed in her direction.

"Yes Jackal, it is Ezzy. I came to help you..Silver Bear showed me the way." Clutching the salves tightly to her chest, she moved forward, being careful of the placement of her feet on the craggy rocks. Her gaze remained focused on the pistol and she stopped after halving the distance between them. "I have medicine for your cuts and burns...and I can help you apply the bandages. Will you let me help you?"

Jackal's hand shook for a few more seconds before it lowered and his pistol fell from his lifeless fingers. He gave her a weak nod before he fell to his knees, body still quaking. "I can't see...I can't see. Where are you Ezzy?" He tried to get back to his feet and stagger towards her, but his cold locked legs collapsed beneath him and he tumbled down the hill towards her, groaning deeply as the movement dragged along his body.

There was little time to think, the scavver dropping to her knees to stop her lover from rolling down the mountain side. The clay pots clattered to the stones as she put her hands out and grabbed at him, her feet digging into the scree and her body falling over his to still his descent.

"I've got you," she said between heaving breaths, her teeth gritted against the intense discomfort in her hands. Blood was seeping from the left, the fluid quickly sopping the bandage covering it. She wasted no time worrying over it and pulled the lawman to her, her arms wrapping around his chilled frame.

The pain of contact was instant, but the scavver's warmth was a welcome change. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he hugged her back. "Thank...you Ezzy." Breathing heavily through his teeth he moved slowly to his knees, his body still shivering violently. "I...tried to wash the wounds out." He growled lightly, reaching down to feel for the bandages and clay bottles.

"So you finally met Silver Bear?" He laughed weakly, regaining control of his breathing as the pain dulled a little. "Glad someone else has seen him. Was worried I was finally getting rad-madness out here." He found the discarded bottles and bandages and handed them back to Ezra.

"He wasn't what I expected," she said, her hand going out to touch the lawman on his hand so she could fold her fingers around his wrist. "I was thinking he was more ghost-like....but he seemed so real."

She got back to her feet, bringing Jackal up with her. "Let's get you back to the water's edge so I can clean your wounds and get you bandaged. It's too cold for you to remain undressed for too much longer...despite how much I enjoy seeing you this way." She laughed lightly as she moved closer to him, using her body to guide him back towards the creek.

Jackal wrapped his arm around the woman's shoulder hugging her some more as she guided him back to the water. "He's a ghost for sure, he moved so silently and vanished so quickly every time I saw him that I'm not sure what he is. The name sounds familiar though, but I've yet to be able to place it." He could feel the new cold of the water and slowly sat himself down, groaning as the cold enhanced his body endless pain. But the cold did help calm his burns some.

Ez worked quickly, using one of the strips of bandage to clean the burns and cuts. It was a grueling task, the damage to his skin severe, and barely a swatch left unblemished. He endured the ministrations with a steely reserve, as she had no doubt her gentle touch caused great pain. She followed up with the salves, applying the numerous pieces of cloth afterwards.

"Do you think you can make it back to Endver with my help?" she asked, reaching down to pick up his clothing. "A warm bed would be a comfort to you...and I am not sure I can get a fire going to keep us warm out here."

Having spent the better part of Ez's treatment with clenched teeth he let out a low relieved sigh as she finished. He was really feeling the cold now as well, he tried to control the shivering so as to not ruin the placement of salve and bandages. But by the time she was done it was beyond his control, he reached for his pants moving stiffly as he began pulling them on. "Yes....yes." He said softly as he connected his belt and worked on his pistol and knife belt, his hands numbly fumbling with the clasps.

It didn't help he was still blind from the fire that had been burning around his head. Next came his boots, his feet stinging with numbness same as his hands. He gave a weak chuckle. "Too bad I'm already patched up, a hot bath might've done us both some good." Stomping the feeling into his feet he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his bandana tying it over his eyes. He hoped this blindness would be temporary.

The faintest of smiles was on Ezra's lips at the mention of a hot soak, but she had enough of bathing for the day, her venture earlier that day taking some of the joy out of it. She didn't bother mentioning it to Jack, he had enough on his plate, his lack of sight a worry to her as well. Gathering up the remaining supplies, she tucked his arm into hers, hoping she would be able to lead him down the rocks without any mishaps.

She went slowly, finding that she leaned on the gunman almost as much as he leaned on her. She could almost feel the soft pillow under head, her desire to be in bed fueling the tiresome journey. "I'm sorry I got you into all this Jack. I promise I won't make such a hasty judgement again, not when other people's lives are involved." Sighing deeply, she put her head on his upper arm just for a brief moment. "...and if you are still desiring that hot bath in the morning...we will make it happen."

Jackal followed unsteadily after his woman as they went down the slopes. Like she did with him, he held her closely, his arm looping around to grip the softness of her hip, the contact, despite bringing him more pain, was also comforting. The familiarity and closeness something he had sorely missed these last couple days. His jacket skill rubbed against his burns even through the bandages, but the pain wasn't as bad, at least not compared to the rest of the pain he felt right now.

As she apologized the gunman let out a weak chuckle, bringing his hand up to grip her chin and find her lips for a soft kiss. "You have nothing to apologize for Ezzy. We both fucked up this time, but at least we freed another town?" Letting go of her chin he kept his arm around her waist and they continued on in silence. They reached the gates of Endver and the sounds and smells of revolution were all but gone as they walked into the dark cold streets of the liberated town. It would hopefully have a better future now. The town was asleep so the pair of wounded lovers went just as quietly into the Church and up to Ezra's room. The warmth was a welcomed change for the blind man, the walk up the steps arduous for them both, but the end would be worth it. The woman opened the door and ushered Jackal inside. He let out a low pleased sigh as the warmth washed over them both. "Feels like a nice small room." He said slowly pulling his long coat off.

"It'll do lover," Ezra said as she helped him to the bed. "Lay down...and I'll see if I can find you some pain relief. Sammy had some herbs in her bag to make into a tea. They should help." She moved about the room, putting the jars aside and taking a moment to change her bandage. "Maybe she has something to use for your eyes."

Jackal let out a low groan as he pulled his boots and weapons off, placing them on a nearby table. He worked out of his pants knowing fully body warmth would be best. Moving gingerly to the wall he sighed deeply wishing to melt into the bed and just die. But he couldn't do that just yet, he heard the pain in Ezra's voice and felt it in her body as they moved along. She clung to him for comfort as much as support and he couldn't help but do the same for her. Relaxing into the soft mattress he tried to follow her with his ears as she moved about the small room. "I'll take the pain relieving tea, but I don't think there's anything in nature that cures blindness my love. From what I read it was even difficult in the Pre-Fire world. Only one person could cure the blind." He said half chuckling until he remembered, sitting up a bit quicker than he should've he felt the bandages stretch, his wounds causing him to groan painfully. He fell back to the bed panting. "Hmm damn...did you get my mother's bible back?" He asked between pained pants.

Ez was at his side again, her fingers running gently over the curve of his cheek. "I'll get it for you," she said, her lips cool on his forehead before her steps sounded away from him. The door to the room opened and closed, Ez heading down the hall to find Sammy's bag and the cherished book. Neither took her long, the woman managing to get the herbs she needed without waking her daughter in the room next to hers. Laying in the arms of Matches, the young girl was in a deep sleep, Ez envying her slumber.

The Bible was also where she expected...right where she had left it...in the preacher's room on the shelf. Ez did not linger, the scent of blood still permeating the room although the old man's body had been removed. There was a plan to show his body on the next morn to prove his death, but even that was not enough to satisfy the scavver. She wanted more. A flash of anger filled her, her heart pounding in her chest as she slammed the door upon exiting.

It was to Jackal's side she returned, her breathing still elevated as she pressed the wrapped book into his hands. "I'll make the tea," she said, having already obtained a pot of hot water from the kitchen area on the church's first floor. Mixing the herbs and filtering them into two cups, she sat down on the bed and leaned against the wall.

The man let out a breath, running his hand slowly over the well worn leather cover opening the cover to run his fingers along the inscription his mother left. The book was old and the ink had weighed the page down some so the letters looked almost indented. Pleased it was the actual book, he sat up slower this time and placed it gently down atop his belts and weapons.

He took the cup of tea nodding his thanks to the woman as he began sipping it slowly, the warmth beginning to fill his body and bringing feeling back to his hands and feet. "Thank you so much Ezzy." He wished to say more, but exhaustion filled his mind. He was sure Ezra felt the same way, so much had happened since they got here. Jackal had slept, but it wasn't good sleep, it was induced by pain or being actually knocked out. And still now he felt apprehension in the back of his mind what would happen to him should he dare fall asleep again?

Sure both Aidan and Theo were dead, but still what they had done to him burned itself into his mind and he couldn't shake it, an almost palatable fear gripping him at the prospect of sleep. But the logical part of his mind told him nothing would happen and sleep would be best. Deciding to listen to that logical part he sipped his tea enjoying the taste and the washing away of his body ache was almost heavenly. A loud yawn ripped from his mouth and the sheer weight of his weariness made his shoulders slump some. "We should keep a good stock of these herbs for later. They work wonders." He finished his cup of tea and placed the tea on the table making sure it was away from the bible.

"Mmm," the woman responded, her mind already shutting down from the long day. She waited for Jackal to settle in before she put her own empty cup aside, her watchful gaze settling on him as a weight seemed to be lifted from his misery. "Sleep well lover," she whispered, her own body tingling from the effects of the tea. Stripping out of her clothing, she slipped under the blankets and moved against the gunman, her eyes closing almost immediately.

"I love you Jack," she said as sleep took her, the words nearly lost in the silence which followed.

[SikstaSlathalin]

The group's days in Endver were a blur of recovery and rebuilding. Jackal never left Ezra's room, drifting in and out of unconsciousness as Sammy or Ezra changed his bandages. He did not speak, he barely ate, and drank only a few cups of water. Despite what tenderness he showed before his eyesight still hadn't returned and the pain of his burns had turned him unresponsive from a continued state of exhaustion.

The lawman's recollection of the passing of time were lost in a stream of light and dark. A dance of shadows coming through the tinted windows of the room. Occasionally the smell of dry wasteland air filled the room as someone opened the window and the stifling air returning once the window was closed. Then darkness, pain, dreamless slumber, lather, rinse, repeat. It wasn't until the following week that he sat up on his own accord and then his eyes were just a listless as before. No one could guess when his eyesight would return if at all. Out of respect and maybe a small measure of fear no one spoke to him when he showed his face outside of the Church. With Ezra straying a few feet behind him in case he needed a hand with something, but her presence was merely physical. No words were exchanged between them and aside from helping him up some steps they never touched each other.

Jackal's walks about town started out short, but by the end of the week he was moving about mostly unaided and walked with slow, but assured steps. And by the beginning of the next week the man was moving about as normal albeit he still couldn't wear a shirt only his jacket. His face set in a grimace and his hat pulled down low over his eyes. Ezra and Deck had worked with the rebels to establish some kind of government until the people figure out something better. But after what they had been living under anything would be better. If this quest ended well maybe the band could come back and check up on the town. But for now they put the town behind them, their next stop would Silver Mine Oasis also called Silver Springs depending on who you talk to. It was a few days ride East, and they would be setting a pace to camp at a small hill top by nightfall.

[bluemoon]

Scouting ahead, Ezra looked out over the rocky landscape atop her sure footed horse Clove, her hazel gaze steadfast as she looked for any sign of danger. After three weeks in a state of near stasis, she was eager to be out in the wastelands again, the tension she had felt in Endver driving her to spend her nights lost in a bottle. It had taken its toll on her, her nerves on edge and her mood sour. This time alone was her respite, Jackal being left in the care of Sammy and Deck...and of course his trusted mount Vash.

Their relationship was at an impasse due to the gunman’s recovery, the scavver not sure when, or if, things would return to normal. If Jack’s vision did not return, the only logical decision would be for him to give up his quest, the wastelands no place for a blind man, especially one on the move. She was not sure where that would leave them, her own heart already too wrapped up in the man to give him up easily. The choice would be his.

Sighing heavily, Ez turned her attention away from the slope, the road ahead clear without any immediate sign of danger. There was little in the way of dust trails to reveal other riders, but the loose gravel along the path appeared undisturbed. There were no good places to stage an ambush, the few ledges in clear view. Relieved that the day would prove to be uneventful, she spun her horse around and set off at a steady trot to return to the others.

She met up with them a short time later, a subtle nod her only acknowledgement before she took her place at the back of the group. The old cook was in the lead with Sam and Matches behind him, Jackal taking the next spot in line. Ez was unable to take her eyes from him, her constant vigil when she was in his company the only sign of her devotion to him at present. She missed his touch...his warmth…the sound of his voice on a regular basis. She had never experienced this type of loss...to depend so heavily upon someone else to make her whole. Feeling empty, Ez pulled out a flask and unscrewed the cap, the container tipped back as she had her first drink of the day.

[SikstaSlathalin]

Moving through the steady dry heat of the wasteland the small band of adventurers roamed on lost in their own thoughts on conserving energy for the trip ahead. With his sight gone Jackal's other senses have been working in overdrive most notably his hearing. Every breath and whispered word came through his ears. The mood was generally good, but everyone was still tired...very tired.

None of the kids still with them had ever been in a real fight like the Revolution of Endver. Even the madness that went down in Liberty was nothing compared to the full scale war they had just fought in. A few of them had injuries, but no one died which considering the chaos of the fight itself. But the blind gunman had to hand it to the Rebels. They managed to arrange a full scale uprising right under the noses of Theo and Aiden. In a smallish place like Endver that's quite an accomplishment, still Jackal was glad they all made it through the melee. He followed the conversations for a few more minutes before he head Ezra approaching from her scouting mission. He tightened the red, white, and blue bandanna around his eyes eyes and turned his head a little towards her. His stomach did a few flips, but any words he wanted to say died on his tongue. His wounds burned at even the thought of enduring another's touch and the way he failed to keep his new family safe in two consecutive towns weighed heavily on him and he just felt unworthy of being in the woman's company.

Letting out an exhausted sigh he dropped his head upon his chest and let Vash lead the way behind Deck and the others. Being slumped over in his saddle like this is the closest Jackal had gotten to sleeping in many days. And he didn't stir again until the call went out that they were nearing the first night's campsite. With him out of commission and Ezra being out of sorts in her own way Deck had become the de facto trail boss of this leg of the trip. The old man has been the rock solid foundation of this group since even before Jackal hired Ezra's first band of misfits to help him find the Treasure of the Lost Mountains. They were lucky to have him right now, hell if it weren't for him they all might've died in the Salt Flyer's Camp.

A collective sigh of relief floated through the group as everyone dismounted and began setting up camp. Jackal was the last to jump off his animal's back, the pair of wanderers moved to a flat part of the hill and with practiced movements Jackal took off Vash's saddle and set the big beast free to roam a bit. Pulling his jacket off the man let out a low pained groan rubbing the scratchy bandages some, the cooling air of the evening soothed his ruined flesh. Moving stiffly he set out his bedroll, he probably should set up near Ezra, but being near her would be too much. They haven't been close since the Endver incident ended, he felt lost and weak without her presence even before he was blind, now he just felt helpless. But there was still too much pain and issues he needed to sort through first.

In the middle of the camp both Sammy and Deck watched the gunman with concern before they both looked at Ezra seeing her take another pull from her flask. Sammy sighed clutching the strap of her medical satchel. "What are we going to do Deck?"

The old hunter shrugged wiping sweat from his brow. "I can't rightly say Sammy, they both need each other...but they ain't got the sense to do anythin' about it right now. Let e'eryone settle in an' get some food in their bellies we'll see ifin that helps." The young woman sighs and nods going to help Matches set up their tent.