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Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 13

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all, Blood and Gore, Child abuse, Sexual abuse of children & adults, Child killings, religious trauma, Torture and abuse both physical and mental.

Read from beginning: Ch: 1 Death

Previous chap: Ch: 12 Wyrd

Next chap: None (coming the ???)

_____________________________________

~Ch: 13 Blight~

Winter came and went, the snow had stopped falling to reveal fresh growth in the forest. The fields full of newly sprouting crops covered the land with green. Blake was eased when he saw it developing so well. Knowing he wouldn't need to buy more cans. His only stress of late was that Val had gone missing around late February. Staying gone until late march before popping up again. He shrugged it off as her checking in at home. Having stayed mainly in Temple Gate at this point for a few months. She's practically moved in, why doesn't she move everyone else? They don't want to? Assuming that was the reason without being able to directly ask. He still didn't want John to be aware that Val was discovered.

Not long after her return, John came forward with a request from Val. “People are getting sick again. We need more medicine and some pain killers.”

“Painkillers? What do they have?”

“We think it's what they had before. Nasty cough, hard breathing, the cold never lets up in the mines.”

“Why the pain killers though?”

“... Val didn't say.” Shifting his shoulders.

“Didn't say or wont tell me?”

“Won't, but I know it's very important.”

“You know it won't help any sickness, right? If someone actually broke a leg they need a doctor.”

“I know, it's for something else. I promise it's very important.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I'll give one bottle, that's it, unless she tells me what it's for.”

“Thank you, that's all we'll need.”

Blake passed on the bottles. Expecting after a week to hear about the Voltaire's recovery from their ills. John however was missing with Mathew speaking for him instead at the meeting. “Dads sick.” The look Blake shot him had him reaffirm. “He's actually really sick. He's been coughing his lungs out and his necks really swollen. Was too tired to get out of bed this morning.”

Doesn't look like a lie. And so, he dismissed it.

It started off small, easily dismissed by everyone. A day later, A few coughing were thought to have colds. At worst a case of the flu and needing bed rest. A few stayed home from work to rest with others staying to care for family members. A few, became a lot the next day. Many were staying home either sick or caring for others. Waving it off as the flu couldn't be done anymore. People were turning anxious, paranoid of its cause. Many turned their eyes to the freshly integrated healed. Blake felt the tension in groups drifting apart. The healed and the townies before gathered only with themselves to whisper about the other half. Blake called another meeting in almost an emergency fashion. Trying to avoid a panic if he mentioned an outbreak was happening. Afraid to find out what it could be.

John still hadn't returned and others were missing. Confirmed by Mathew. “Liam had trouble this morning and three of Marta's guard. They were all moved for better care.”

Being one of the first ill, Blake had to know. “Your father seen any improvement?”

“No, he's gotten worse. I had to bring him to the infirmary this morning. Others gaining a cough like him are getting just as bad. Something serious is going around.”

Blake wanted to be sure and followed up with a visit. Shocked to see how bad John was in bed. Wheezing worse than him after running for his life. Neck swollen twice past its normal size. His hacking horribly dry that it pained Blake's own throat. Many others left bedridden were in various lesser stages of John's. Aside from John the others were all younger, around Blake's age. Worried further by Mathew passing on another request from Val. “They need more medicine.”

“Have they gotten any better?”

“Doesn't sound like it from what my dad said.”

John wasn't the first. “... I'll give more, but if it doesn't improve then this is something more serious.”

Mathew hung his head low. “Will we have to force a quarantine?”

“Yes.” Blake's answer scared the boy. Quick to reassure him. “Hopefully not long. We have the doctor who can test for things. Our medicine may not work, but another we don't have, could. Keep an eye on anymore cases like this popping up. Keep a written record of any symptoms you notice. I'll take John into town and hopefully we'll find out things soon and get an order on medicine moving.”

Scrubbing down before leaving he ran to gather up a small team to help transport the poor man to town. Making masks out of tightly wrapped gauze Blake, John, Mathew and Jacob crammed into the truck. The doctor saw them right away with Blake standing nearby in the room. Watching the doctor check John over with a mask and gloves. Looking down the back of John's throat his face scrunched up. “Eesh, a lot of gray at the back.”

“Whats that mean?”

“Dead tissue build up, but I think I know what this is now. Your people caught Diphtheria. A bit surprising since this is usually covered by child vaccines. It's a serious infection that causes nasty breathing problems, swollen neck, dead tissue and eventual buildup of toxins in the body.”

“How do we treat it?”

“Almost easy, you got half of it right now, keep the ill on antibiotics. It won't cure, but long as they keep taking them the spreading stops. For the other half, an actual cure, we'll need to order antitoxin. Figure out how many cases you got, because if they're as bad as he is you'll need multiple doses.”

“How long will it take to deliver?”

“On express delivery? Could take three months.”

“Three months?!”

“Maybe six. Antitoxin isn't really demanded on the market like antibiotics. Ain't too easy sneaking a stash away. Seeing a specific medication like that disappear would throw up alarms to the government. Heh, It's easier to commit tax fraud.”

“Can you put in an order TO the government?!”

“And have those assholes come questioning me at my office? No thanks, I ain't lookin' for a vacation in a cell. They'll wanna see why there's a sudden outbreak here and that'll also lead back to your town.”

“Ugh, what if I spread it around? Government can see for themselves then if people visit other doctors.” Feeling awful for tossing up the idea.

“You wanna spread a plague?!”

“Well, what happens if they don't get the antitoxin?”

“Eeh, they might live after 10 days, but they'll suffer a lot of organ damage, brain damage and uh, death.” He sighed. “Guess the idea isn't so bad.” Mumbling to himself the next bit. “Maybe I'll get paid by some relief program for this.” Clapping his hands together. “OKAY! Diphtheria's one of the easiest to spread. Drag him through public and let him hack his lungs out. I suggest around morn parkway, red brick avenue, and sunrise drive. They're the fancy rich neighborhoods. Those people can afford a rush to the doctors and we'll have an order in, in a few days. Then maybe a day more, or less for arrival. Rich people can't afford to die, they got money to make!”

Uncomfortable, although somewhat appreciative, by the doctors gung-ho attitude to do this. “Uh, yeah, thanks for the suggestion.” Feeling worse as he paraded John around the town all while he hacked and wheezed. Receiving all sorts of glares from the rich people judging them. He kept it up all day before they returned to Temple Gate. Knowing what people had was serious, he made announcements on the fly down the streets. He didn't want people shoving themselves into the hall for a gathering. Meanwhile he had Mathew move ill to the quarantine. Put on immediate treatment of antibiotics along with the medical staff. Meeting up with him when he was sure the town was warned.

“Mathew I need you to go see Val. Tell her what's going on and that it's very important to move the Voltaire to quarantine. They won't last in the mines without regular care. When we get the antitoxin they'll have to stay for regular treatment afterwards until they're cured. This isn't a small case of pneumonia like last time.”

“Move them to quarantine? I don't know if she'll do that. She hates this place!”

“None of us have much of a choice.”

“I'll try, sir.”

Temple Gate was slammed back by the illness spreading over the day. Tensions were rising in the few snippets of conversations he overheard. “We knew this would happen.” “Those scalled are infecting us.” “Our souls are becoming diseased like theirs.” “We need to reject them.” “Who cares what he said.” “They caused this.” “Cast them out.”

Fuck. What do I say? What he had said already was being tossed to the side.

Undermined by someone else catching attention on the streets. “Our prophet cast them out to protect us. None of you listened and look. You're paying the price of disobedience. Pray, pray to him for forgiveness and ask that a sign be given. Have faith that he will answer us to smite those scall-”

“Farlow!” Blake shouted, silencing his street side gathering.

“What do you want?”

“This is just an illness. It wasn't caused by any shit excuse Knoth made to hide his disgusting sexual abuse.”

He scoffed. “What else could it be? You took them back in and we were soon ravaged by disease. Those filthy lepers were cast out for a reason! If we are to save the rest still healthy you must turn to God. Follow his teach-”

“Knoth's words didn't come from God!”

“What do I expect from a fallen angel? Devil, you drag us down lower each day.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I'm not that. You done?”

“The lord's work is never done. If you don't attend to it, then I will.” He looked to a few on his right. “Are you ready?” A wide set smile on his face that tensed up the others. “Things will only be right when he is gone. You know this.” Hand pointing from them to Blake.

Each man at his side looked to Blake. One reached for something in a side pocket. Blake tensed in knowing it wasn't a pleasant surprise. A choking hold the air held was cut down by a towering shadow's appearance. Farlows men went pale under her glaring eyes. His own smile dropped into a submissive look away. Watching her from out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you smart, or are you dead men?” It was all the warning she had to give.

They separated themselves from Farlow, who stayed to challenge Marta with a silent glare.

“Well?”

“... May God forgive you.” Trotting off out of view.

“Hmph, fool.”

“Thanks.” Blake sighed out the next. “Have any good news?”

She shook her head. “More of the healed are being harassed. Me and the guard have been separating arguers all day.”

He rubbed his head, unsure of what to say.

“Hate to say, but more of my guard is falling to the sickness. By tonight they'll have to enter quarantine, If not sooner.”

“Alright. Stay on patrol as much as you can.” Their meeting kept short to return to their duties.

Blake handed out what meds they could until they were out. Left waiting for when the antitoxin would come in. Mathew came back with more bad news by Val refusing to move her clan into quarantine. Blake let out a chain of curses. Dammit Val, why not?! “Tell her-”

Interrupted by Mathew stating how dead serious Val was on the matter. “They won't be moved anywhere near Temple Gate. No negotiating.”

“Fuck, fine, okay.” Having no choice but to let Val handle her cases. Driving back and forth to the town for the next couple of days. Picking up more supplies of antibiotics with the hopes that the antitoxin would be there as well. The disease spreading rapidly had slammed to a complete stop from the antibiotics. Soon as someone coughed they were sent to quarantine. The healthy remaining were doing their best to run Temple Gate on a skeleton crew.

Blake was repeatedly hit with a barrage of questions. “Can you do something?” “Does God not help his angels?” “Why isn't the medicine helping like before?” “Did the scalled cause this?” “Should we cast them out?” “Are we diseased of the soul?” “How long do the ill have?” “Should we prepare a fire burial?” “When will you reap them?” His answers fell on deaf ears as their faith in him waned. The rest he had no solid answers for. “Shouldn't the angel of death know?”

His nightmares were asking the same questions. Lynn sitting on a throne of rocks with her organs stretched from her carved body to tangle with the tree branches. Time flashing between day and night. Her body looked more intact one moment then half rotten the next with flies swarming out her openings. “Have you told them they're dying? Why haven't you started on the coffins?” She smiled unnaturally wide. A mouth of teeth stained by blood letting insects swarm in between. “You prefer to watch don't you? You looked at her body and wanted to see more.” Her voice deepened to another's he didn't want to hear. “I can help. It's natural. Just let me-”

He jolted up from bed to cover his mouth. Ready to vomit if he hadn't swallowed it down. “Ugh, shit.” He breathed out. His skin prickled at the last words repeating in his mind. Remembering them, yet he wasn't sure where from. They came from him, but not during his time at St. Sybil. Further into his thoughts he tensed to not go any deeper. Facing a wall of not only warning, but a physical threat to turn back. Heeding it he focused on what the day may bring. Fresh morning turned sour as soon as he stepped out the hall. Marta was separating a bunch of complainers. looking as interested as anybody would listening to children argue over something stupid.

Holding back he wanted to hear everything first before interfering. Expecting Marta to solve the issue without him anyway. It was the same old complaints he'd gotten the past few days. Looping over and over it was getting nowhere with Marta. Stepping forward to get in the mix he started up his list of explanations. Reasoning falling on deaf ears all the other times he expected the same here. “I'm trying. I've talked to the doctor and we-” A screech of pain caught everyone's attention. Blake ran in the direction and Marta ran ahead before he got far. Finding the source of the sound within a group of men. One held his bloody face, gouged across, with two palms. Another held their own broken nose that bled as much. Three more around them unable to offer much in the way of help.

Marta reached them first. “What happened?”

One of the uninjured answered. “Fuckin' one of the scalled.” Glancing away. “We was mindin' our business when one of 'em crossed us. Started rantin' some gibberish an' we told 'em to go away. Wouldn't let up.”

Blake was listening at first then tuned out the longer their side was explained.

Glances switched between him, Marta and the ground. “We walked away from 'em and they followed us.” Crossing his arms his fingers tapped over one. “We just had enough. Shoved 'em away and they freaked out on us. Almost took Greg's eye an' knocked Dole's nose sideways. Guess they realized the fuck up an' ran off.” Shifting himself in a sway that made Blake sea sick.

Marta had looked away from him toward the ground. A separating set of tracks had her scrunch her face up. Mumbling verses under her breath she faced them. “You see their face?”

“No, they were covered like every other scalled.”

“Mm.” A knowing glance given to Blake. “In all black I assume?”

“Ye-”

Blake interrupted. “This is a bunch of horseshit. You all started this.”

“What, you kiddin' me?! It was those diseased rats that-”

“You can work overtime on the farms and wait until your last to get dinner. That goes for all of you.”

“Fuck off you-” They crowded him and only got back when Marta jabbed them in the chest.

“You want a broken nose like him?” Jabbing him a few times. “Get to the farms and you better be there when I get there.” Sending them off ahead of her to speak alone with Blake.

“You think she started it?” Knowing exactly who it was they had the bad luck of crossing.

“Nay, it was them. This has been happening and it's gettin' worse by the day. Attacking healed just for passin' their homes. Haven't had one of them fight back. Too afraid to is my guess on the assumption poor behavior will get them cast out again.”

“I don't know what I can do to fix this. We need the medicine, but the medicine might not be here in the next few days.”

“Should we separate them?” Clarifying. “Around the hospital?”

“I don't want to do that. What if it becomes the old place part two?”

“Can be temporary 'till the medicine gets here. Otherwise you might need to start using that jail instead of the farms.”

“We might not have a big enough jail.”

“Uh, angel.” A woman's voice grabbed Blake and Marta's attention. A few healed had come forward off a bigger group lagging back. She was covered in light gray fabrics that didn't entirely cover her. Most her arms showing were covered in white gauze. Exposed fingers scared all over matching the skin he could see of her face. Still tinted a red from the thinner layers of skin starting to grow back after so long. Voice on the raspy side after suffering her illness. “We heard you talking, sorry.” Voice kept quiet to avoid offense.

Blake mimicked her volume to not scare them off. “Yes?”

“We wouldn't mind a closed space of our own. If we stay in charge of it … And we could be armed.”

“How armed? I can't give you crossbows.”

“Nothin' like that. We were hopin' mostly for blades. Easy to carry and easy to hide on us. It'll give us a bite to defend ourselves when we need to.”

“I don't want to arm you and make the fights worse.”

“Don't have much else, with how we are after the disease. Some can't run, others can't fight either, but a blade could at least buy them time for help to reach 'em.”

Marta threw in her two cents. “It's gettin' worse, least give them some chance.”

He hummed. “Alright, pick up what you thinks best. I'll find more to give you. … You want to make a space? Is that best? The assumptions about you may never get better.”

“Those that care are already treatin' us fine. As for the rest, we don't care much for what they say. They're the ones who chanted for us to be sent to the rotten quarantine in the first place. If we're armed, they're words won't matter if they try sending us again. As for our new space. This time it'll be us making it to keep others out. A home we can run to, lock up tight, and defend long as we need.”

“Sounds more like a fort than a space.”

“That's the idea.”

“Where are you planning on making it?”

“Where most of us are livin' round the hospital.”

“I don't think I can support blocking off the hospital.”

“We ain't stopping people from coming and going unless we really have to. If it gets that dire there will be bigger issues to see to first.” Mentioning a sort of compromise. “For guarding the stock of medicine we wont stock up on food. If we lock down we'll have to leave eventually then.”

“... Alright. I need to plan this out land wise. Come back later around dinner. I might have something planned we can look over or we can at least discuss it better then.”

“Thank you, angel.”

“You don't gotta ...” About to mention the angel thing, but let it go. “What's your name?”

“Asher.”

“You want to lead on this?”

“The fort build?”

“All of it. The fort, the healed.”

“Like a lord?”

“Sure, wouldn't hurt to have another. Mathews in charge of the hospital, but not the healed really. Someone from the healed should get a voice to speak up at the meetings for them.”

“Would love to, angel. Never lead anythin' before though.”

“That's fine, you'll match everyone else.” Speaking then to Marta. “After you check on the farms can you check what builders we have that aren't sick.”

“Last I checked we had a small group. Liam always drew up the plans though for these big builds.”

“Ah, a wall cant be too hard to build.”

She gave him a sort of side eye then looked away.

“I'll figure it out,” He huffed. “I'll make something out of rocks and Popsicle sticks first.”

“Mmhm. We still visiting the doctor today?”

“Yes, visit the farms, see builders, then we'll go. Should be afternoon by then.”

Blake spent his few hours running around to count the sick. Ordering the worsening cases to go into quarantine. Breaking up fights throughout the day had made him sore. Checking the farms he stood by Marta watching a group of punished trouble makers. James was able to keep up with all the extra hands on top of the regular turned skeleton crew. Making sure James could handle them without Marta watching, they left for the doctors.

Come on, come on, come on! Fearing the doctor would say no as he entered the office.

The secretary seeing him flashed a big grin. “Ay, your meds finally here. Doctors got a bunch of it set up for ya. He wants you to see him first though.”

“Oh, thank God.” Blake took a deep breath. Rushing back to see the doctor.

“Ah, my favorite patient. I assume you got the good news. I wanted to show you how to administer it before you get it.” Gesturing them to head inside one of the exam rooms.

“Administer it?”

“Yes, these don't come in pill form.” Showing two glass bottles in hand. “This one is the antitoxin and this one is a booster the government gave out.” Pointing to one then the other. Setting the anti toxin down to grab a syringe. Pointing to a certain measurement. “This is how much you need to give for a dosage of the antitoxin. This is very important, depending on the case, One shot per week until they start getting better. That should happen after about three weeks for the worst cases.” Taking a dosage from the booster. Showing where the level stopped in the syringe. “This is for the booster. I suggest getting your doses now.” gesturing to Blake and Marta. “Left you a case with the antitoxin.”

“Thanks.” Blake got ready to take his shot. And Marta getting hers before hauling the crates carefully back home. Blake showed medical staff the dosages along with proper instruction to not share needles between patients. Going elsewhere to give vaccines to those healthy still. Exhausted by the end of the day he met with Mathew again to go have another talk with Val. “Since these aren't pills, I can't chance them making it safely to the mines. If they break we can't get more like the antibiotics. They have to come to quarantine for treatment.

“She doesn't want that. What if we meet at the ration drop off?”

“They got sick first, didn't they? How bad are their cases?”

“As bad as dads.”

“Then they'll need multiple doses over the next four weeks, can they make the multiple journeys back and forth?”

Mathew looked to the floor. “I don't think they can even make one trip.”

“Go tell her to bring them, she has to. I'm willing to help bring them down if that's a problem.”

He sucked in a tense breath, rubbing his head. “Yes, sir.”

The message he got back the next day wasn't anymore cooperative. “She refuses and it's getting hard to talk with her. She wants the medicine delivered and nothing else.”

Goddammit Val! “Tell her, or don't that, that's not happening.” Dropping it there to handle treatment of those listening. Concocting some idea all day about how to handle them. He didn't want to leave them for dead and he'd have to work fast to make sure that didn't happen. A day passed without Blake knowing what to do. Another unhelpful message passed on by Mathew. Who didn't want to repeat what Val said. Giving up on that path he figured the only thing to do was to overstep Val's authority entirely.

He called an emergency meeting of a few select lords. John and Liam were sick and Mathew was purposefully left out due to the topic at hand. “We're going to capture the Voltaire for treatment.”

“With what?” James scoffed. “A quarter of the guard are too ill for that. If they don't want treatment, leave 'em up there.”

“We're going and I'm not arguing on this. Tomorrow we're leaving early morning to the mines, including you James. I don't think they'll be in any condition to fight.”

“What about Val?”

“I'll handle her. Meet here, early morning to suit up and go.” Dismissing everyone. Putting the rest of the plan into motion he talked to Marta on the side. “Seen Val in Temple Gate or has she gone?”

“She's been coming here, then leaving shortly after. Mathews not good at keeping the meetings subtle like John. Meeting her around the farm fields every morning.”

“That could work in our favor. ... Change of plans, without telling him who, have James snag Val for early morning work after her meeting. She'll be distracted long enough for us to reach the mines before her.”

“She's gonna be pissed when she finds out.”

“I know, maybe by some miracle she'll just agree to go along before then.” Separating from Marta to go normally about their day. Worrying until early next morning when he met up with the guard, short three people. Slipping into one of the hefty armored uniforms he picked up a catcher's loop. Sneaking everyone out of Temple Gate before the sun rose. Rowing a boat across the misted lake he watched Temple Gate fade behind them. Stepping onto the shore across the way to continue on foot. Wheezing already at the start of the mountain slope. Wanting to rush the three hour travel there. A moment taken when they met the mouth of the cave. A darkened opening covered by drooping roots out growing their surrounding dirt. Suddenly feeling ill at his last memory of this place. Escaping with Lynn before her grizzly death. Knowing very well that her dying spot wasn't too far from here. Was her body still strung in the trees? Or long rotten by now to become food for crows? Swallowing, he avoided dwelling on the thought traveling too depressingly deep.

Marta certainly noticed his pale complexion. “You alright?”

“Yeah, come on.” He breathed out. Approaching the cave to peek inside its darkening length. He shined a flashlight into it. Seeing nothing much else but mine walls.

“Want me first?” She offered.

“Yeah, but be careful.” Watching her step in before he did. Turning back to the others for a quick instruction. “Stay close and put a hand on the shoulder of the one in front of you. If you're grabbed from the back, we'll know right away.” Doing as they were told down the deep dark cave. Blake could see his own breath with how cold it was getting. The lack of fire making this place feel like a freezer. Fucking hell. It'd be goddamn warmer to sleep outside. Shivering without extra layers for the cold. Winding down the tunnels with multiple piles of rubble still covered in old blood. Stench of rot clinging to them hinted at the buried tunnels being tombs. Watching Marta navigate through the shrinking tunnels was beginning to worry him. Any smaller and she wouldn't be able to continue crouching low enough.

Marta stopped at a widening area. “Mm.”

“What?”

Looking at him over her shoulder. “No ones here.” Stepping forward to let everyone into the cave clearing. A large, half collapsed, room that was covered by spreading cobwebs.

“Stay close, but look around.” Walking further in their was nothing much else. “Fuck, maybe Mathew made her too paranoid and she moved?”

“Doubt it. They've been gone a long while it looks.” Pointing to the various remains of a camp. Shifting her stick through a pile of ashes where a fire used to be made. Old footprints blown away from the breeze coming down the main shaft. Old bloody bandages disintegrating from age. Bones of small animals left in a web covered pile. Spiders infesting all the crevices they could across the rocks.

“Any idea where they could have moved to?”

“Another cave I'd bet. Problem is the mines went all throughout these mountains with various openings. After that storm though, I don't know how many lasted.” Pointing her staff to a massive pile of rubble at the back.”

“Fuck it, we don't have time for this.”

“You're giving up?”

“No, we're heading back and we're going to follow Val.”

“You want to grab the Voltaire then?”

“Yes.”

“While Val's there?”

Blake froze, being in such a rush he didn't stop to think that he'd have to face Val after following her. “Uh … Maybe not today. We'll follow her then return the next.”

“Maybe we should bring Mathew?” Feeding him an idea. “A diplomat to help keep everyone calm. They'll still try to fight the whole way otherwise.”

“Yeah, yes, let's do that.” Starting their three hour travel back to Temple Gate. The group tired from their stressful mission ending in failure.

“Want a small team to go instead of all of us?” Marta hid a suggestion in a question.

“Yeah.” he nodded.

Marta pointed her staff toward two guards. “You two follow us. Rest of you, go get some sleep to head out early tomorrow.” Walking up until they could see the fields from a distance.

“See her?”

“Mm.” scanning across the horizon. “Yes.”

“Okay, have James let her go. you get them following. I'm going to talk with Mathew one last time to try convincing Val.”

“Good luck.”

He raced over back to quarantine, where he pulled Mathew aside. Urgently whispering his plea. “You have to convince her. This is the last chance I'm going to offer her.”

“I can't convince her! She refuses anything you or I try to offer. She's started shutting me down before I can get a word out if she doesn't like what she hears.”

“Just give it one more try.”

“I-” he heard his father start hacking from the other room. Rushing away from Blake to his side. “You okay?”

“A bit.” coughing some more. “Ugh, feel like a slug.”

“After a few more weeks you'll be doing better.”

“Shit, how's everyone else doing?”

“Better with the medicine.”

Blake crushed the small uplift. “Except for the Voltaire. Val refuses to cooperate on getting them treatment. We can’t hike the bottles up there and risk breaking them. She refuses to bring them here and making multiple trips for us or them to be treated is not possible. I'm out of options if Mathew can't convince her this time to cooperate, then they're going to die up there.”

“What?! Wait, Let me go this time. I've dealt with her stubbornness a lot more than my boy.”

Mathew argued against that. “You're too sick to go.”

“It's just talking to Val.” going into a coughing fit he slowed. “Even if she is a pain.”

“Okay.” Blake agreed. “You have to convince her, John. This is her last chance, and make sure she knows that too. Maybe she'll agree then.”

“Yes sir.”

Fearing the day of the raid he held back. Given the news by the scouting guards where the new Voltaire cave was. Finding that it was actually further south from the new quarantine zone. Still being a six hour journey there and back. When the day after tomorrow came, Marta kept watch for Val and John to meet by the fields. Running to gather the guard and James for a repeat of distracting Val until they returned. Snagged for farming duty before she could slip away after meeting John. Blake went off to get the final message from him. It wasn't good based on his expression.

“So that's it then?” Blake confirmed.

“... Can I try again?” His voice softened to defeat.

“That was it, no more talking, we can't wait any longer. But I won't let them die either. I'm going over Val and you have a choice to make. I know Val's been in Temple Gate. I know where the Voltaire moved to. I will be heading out with the guard to capture them for treatment. Either you wait in jail until me and my group returns or you come with us to act as diplomat.”

“NO!” John panicked. “YOU CAN'T DO THAT! I CAN'T DO THAT!” Suffering an absolute breakdown as a coughing fit took over. “If she finds out, she'll kill us!” He wheezed between fits. “ALL of us! She'll burn this place to the ground! YOU CAN'T!”

Blake was almost startled back. Swallowing down what nerves crept up from his gut. This has to be done. “Those are your choices. If you stay, I'll have to take Mathew. It's going to happen even if the both of you refuse. With one of you however, we hope to keep everyone calm and safe.”

John repeated on the verge of tears. “You can't, you can't, you can't!”

“If I don't they'll all die! Is that better?! Val's forced my hand!”

“Let me talk to her! Let me-”

“NO! I'm not giving you the chance to warn her we're coming. Are you coming with us? Or do I have to jail you to stay quiet and ask Mathew instead?”

Holding back another fit. “No! I'll go, I'll go! Please-” Sniffling away the tears to pull himself together. Wheezing another plea. “Please, this is going to go horribly wrong! Please don't!” Fresh tears collected.

“I'll make sure no one gets hurt.” Assisting John in walking out to the lake where they met the guard.

“You don't understand! You don't understand! You don't-” He mumbled repeatedly as they crossed the lake. Mumbling various other panicked warnings not to continue. Landing on the other side they followed up an overgrown trail toward the new Voltaire home. John mentally breaking down the closer they got. Seeing the new cave entrance, Blake went to John's side for a calming talk. Rubbing one of John's shoulders to help pull him together.

“Vals not here, okay? I made sure she's distracted. I don't want anybody hurt. We're doing this to make sure they get treated and cared for. After you, Marta's going in to make sure everybody's calm. To keep everyone safe on the way back they'll have to be tied. When we finally do get back we're setting them in the jail instead of quarantine. Only because I don't know how they'll react or if Val will try to make them break quarantine. Take some deep breaths and go talk to them. You have a minute to let them know what's going to happen. Any longer and I'll assume they're trying to take a back exit.”

He sniffed and wheezed until he could speak again. “O-okay, just give me a minute.” Rubbing his face before walking up into the cave.

Blake tapped his foot the longer John took. Wind blowing through the trees above, his eyes darted to a few falling pine needles. Mistaken as movement from a person hiding in the tree line. He glanced back to see the town off in the distance across the misty lake. Switching to check on his team standing by. Their attention caught between the cave and on falling needles. Marta was locked onto the mouth of the cave. He ignored the shifting sounds around him to focus on Marta's reaction. If someone approached from anywhere, she would know. It felt like time had stopped on the outside. Facing the entrance he was fidgeting on whether to go in or not. Stiffening when Marta perked at an approach inside the cave.

“Okay.” John stepped from the inside. “Uh- most will follow, but Ayzel. You've met him before. Don't turn your back on him and I would keep him extra tied.” He warned before stepping out of the way.

“Thank you.” Helping John sit down on a log.

Waiting for Marta to duck into the cave before he followed right behind. Guards walking closely front to back with hands on shoulders. Passing by the start of tunnels that could have an ambush waiting. Passing by they saw all were collapsed like the last mining tunnel. Lacking its distinct smell of death this time. Air turned cold enough to see their breath again. Made worse by the wind blowing in he double checked if their was frost on his arms. Marta slowed toward the middle of the main tunnel. Squeezing by a cluster of annoying roots on the wall. Slowing onward before the tunnel grew wider ahead. Holding out a palm to make Blake stay back. At the end she was jumped by the one warned of. Slashing at her with a broken blade. She slammed the air out of him with a punch to the ribs. Knocking him down with a slam of her cane to his face. Grabbing his neck to pin him down fully.

“Fuck off bitchh!” He spat at her. Slurring words while over pronouncing others past his crooked jaw. “I'll rip out every organ you hhave! Keep your hhead ash a trophy!” Raging against her grip. She held him without much struggle until the rest of the guard swarmed in to tie him. Binding him so much he'd need to be carried the whole way back. “Fucking Temple Gate bastards! Wretched whhore maggots!” Continuing his verbal assault from the ground.

Blake ignored the shouting to study the home of the Voltaire. It was Homey-er then he expected an old mining cave to be. Upside down carts turned into tables with logs for benches. A small carved out area for a fire pit covered by a red metal barrel holding the huge pot he gave. Its surroundings a makeshift kitchen holding the other cooking pots and boxes of rations next to a flat rock covered in old blood for butchering. Beds holding all the sick members were made of twigs, bones and various furs for cover other than the blankets given. Noticing Val's artistry using twigs to assemble small bits of artwork. A goat, made of them, sitting on one of the tables. Birds and a few small dolls made in a similar fashion stuck on the walls. Nothing like the last huge satanic idols she made in the other caves.

The Voltaire themselves appeared as sick as Blake expected them to be. Most laying down or sitting up in bed looking exhausted from hacking all the time. Coughing regularly kept silence from filling the room. Pained by their wheezing of each breath he planned how to hike them down the mountain side. “Take him outside.” Blake ordered for Ayzel, who shouted all sorts of insults. “Okay, to clarify what John had to rush through.” He started toward the remaining. “We're taking you to Temple Gate for treatment of your illness. Regular pills alone can't cure it and you'll need multiple doses depending on how sick you are. When you're cured you can come right back here. Before then, you'll be forced to stay in quarantine there between one to three weeks, depending.” gesturing for the guard to start gathering people.

Without a fuss they were gathered for their hands to be tied and seated outside before the walk back would begin. Blake walked out with a squeeze by the annoying root cluster. Joining Marta's side who watched over it all. Standing by her side he held himself from fidgeting under all the stares. Judging by how they locked only on him, they knew who he was. Shifting his gaze to keep from staring he watched how his guard worked. Weather any were showing old grudges in their treatment toward the once enemies. None of them were rougher then they needed to be. Standing by in waiting for the next step as things wrapped up. Turning to John fidgeting on a log he tensed up each time someone went in to fetch another. Tensing at each walk out then relaxing. When the guards stopped bringing people out, he still glanced at the cave. Rubbing his face he looked away briefly to let out a long breath fogging the cold air. Blake looked away to the cave. A move that had him see John tense up again. Disturbed their house enough I guess. Raking a hand through his hair he stepped forward to give the final order to leave. Quieted by Marta's staff smacking into his chest.

He looked at her and she whispered. “Two are missing.”

Whispering back. “How do you know?”

“Twenty-seven rations, but only twenty-five.” Cane waved in gesture to the seated.

“Extras? Or ...” Thinking the worst.

“Look at him.” Tipping her head to John. Looks shot toward the cave whenever someone so much as walked close to it. “He's hidin' something.” Heading back for the cave followed by Blake.

He gave one glance back to John and saw how wide eyed tense he got. Reaching the room they followed its edges in search of anything they missed. Without anything there Marta took to checking under furniture. Chucking a mine cart to the side created a loud clank.

“Ay!” stopping her thrashing of the place. “Don't mess up their home! They'll want to return here later.”

She grumbled something then loosely set the mine cart back where it was. Passing to check the next more gingerly, then under the beds.

He mumbled after they scoured the place. “Well, I'm not seeing anything. Let's go.”

Her hum sounded agreeing, but still held suspicion. Hesitant to leave after being asked to. Midway out she looked to the collection of roots. Pausing to study them up and down then looking around down the rest of the tunnel. When Blake looked around with her, he caught on to what she was thinking. Except for this one patch, the tunnel was smoothly rootless. She stepped to the side to knock her cane between the roots. A thunking hollowed sound rumbled out from the knock.

“A door?” He mumbled. Grabbing a bunch of roots to yank free with her. Scraping off a layer of wet clay next to show a slab of wood underneath. “What's behind here?” Feeling around it for a handle of sorts to pull. When he couldn't find anything. “Can you knock it down?” Standing aside as she readied her cane. One bash shoved it free from its frame. Immediately they heard a sound that stilled both their hearts. A baby's cry that was quickly stifled. They looked to one another for reassurance that what they heard was real. ________________________________

aaaaaand thats the end of season 1. still working on season 2 so prob no updates for a while. :v/

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 12

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 11 Dysania

Next chap: Ch: 13 Blight

_____________________________________

~Ch: 12 Wyrd~

Blake secluded himself the entire next day as well as the day after that. Turned into a nervous wreck who tensed at any shadows passing his door. When night came and he was alone he grabbed a rope from storage and headed alone to the burnt church. Stringing it up over the partly melted staircase. Yanking on it to test its climb ability before he did so. Pulling it up at the top so no one could follow him. He wanted to be alone and this was the only place nobody could reach him. He sat up on the roof top as he did ages ago. Gazing up at the stars as he laid back against the bell tower. Losing sight of them when the morning came followed by gray clouds filling the sky. Snowing down over him to cover the roof just as much. He wasn't as cold as he thought he'd be. His fever making sure of that, he laid down with a pile of snow collected onto his hot head. Him being back on the roof gathered a large crowd early morning. He could hear them calling, but refused to answer. He wanted nothing to do with anybody for a while.

Over the day the crowd dispersed, unable to do anything about the angel returning to his perch. He could still hear them all incredibly clear on the wind. Questioning why he was back up there. If he'd ever get back down. How'd they get him down. Moving onto concerns of what they'd do. Following closely to the routine of work. It gave Blake a chance to observe what they'd do without him. Almost everything was set to run under the managers. He mainly went out to keep stock and handle a few arguments on decisions, that's all. Exactly the way he wanted it, calm for the most part without the threat of societal collapse. There wouldn't be much of a reason to get down for a while unless an emergency popped up. Laying and sitting up as the snow came and went. Listening more for what people had to say.

Wonder if this is how God felt? He got annoyed at mankind and went higher above to ignore them. Watching the clouds pass he ignored the pains of hunger. Unsure if he could eat even if he wanted to. His sickness worsened throughout the day. Forever hot, a sore throat irritating him to constantly cough. A lingering exhaustion his rests couldn't shake free. People could hear him and talked about it. He heard John speaking with Marta on pulling him down.

But she refused. “He'll come down when he's ready. Like he did before.” Having the most confidence in that compared to others.

“You don't hear him hacking up there? He's sick and should go to Mathew for care.”

“Leave him be.”

Many wanted to get him down sooner rather than later. Every once in a while he'd see Val watching him from between two buildings. Scared off by Marta's passing presence of patrolling the town. Stopping some who planned to rebuild scaffolding to the roof. James made a visit late in the day trying to get Blake down by tempting him with dinner. Another bowl of soup, but having meat this time.

Blake gave no reply, still refusing to come down. Watching James leave in defeat with the food. This went on for another two days. Blake's fever having gone down. His sore throat only a tickle with an annoying cough still accompanying it. When it snowed in the night he sat inside the bell tower. Watching snow fall from the doorway. People saw him missing the next morning and were excited that he got down. Disappointed when Marta pointed out that he just moved into the bell tower. More attempts were made to try luring him down. Making offerings from food to handmade trinkets like necklaces. The offerings started making him nervous as they got bigger. Not wanting to be treated like some actual holy being he spoke for the first time in a long while. Commanding to stop with the gifts or else he'll stay up longer then he aimed to. Gift delivery was halted immediately when he spoke up about hating it. Coming around to getting down when the fifth day came. Mood ruined again by a problem he heard on the roof. Someone, by the name of “Farlow”, was trying to squeeze a higher position . Arguing the past few dinners that Blake shouldn't be in charge. Being so spineless to let the heretics make what demands they wanted. Acting like Blake was some animal gone alone to die on the roof.

Sleeping off the last of his lessening sickness. He woke by sunset to roll around his pill bottle to entertain himself. Listening to the pills rattle around inside mostly untouched. Back After the second day of illness, he knew it wasn't serious and the pills weren't needed. Using the bottle to also drown out the loud voices he could hear traveling a distance from the hall. He couldn't make out the words, but he knew it was Farlow arguing like before by the pitch. He thought of getting down, but couldn't find it to be a good enough reason. Stopping their roll when he heard John calling from inside right below his staircase.

“Blake, there's been a lot of arguing in the hall about you. A man named Farlow has been trying to convince everyone to follow him. He repeats that you're a coward who fled up there to die. Marta wont do anything unless you ask. People are getting restless the longer you stay up there. Please, will you come down?” He pleaded.

Blake didn't muster an answer. What could I say? “Hey, shut up.”? Who ever Farlow was, he didn't like me and I can't suppress his opinion. Maybe I am weak. If someone thinks they can do better then let them try.

“… it's also about Val.” John spoke nervously quiet.

What now? Does she want to lead too? Clearing his throat first before asking. “What is it?”

“She broke her leg. We don't know what to do.”

Shit, I don't know how to treat a broken leg. “Has Mathew given her anything for it?”

“No, we wanted to ask you first.”

“Okay. Give her some pain killers first. How bad's the break?”

“Feels clean, a small dent around the middle, but not free hanging. She can't walk on it though.”

He mumbled to himself. “Not so bad.” Speaking louder for John. “Is she willing to see the doctor?”

“Uh, no, I don't think she would be. She's only willing to see Mathew at most.”

“Does Mathew know how to treat a broken bone?”

“Um, no.”

“Know how to make a splint?”

“No.”

Dammit. “Okay, I'll come down and show him how to make a splint, but she really should see a doctor. I only know to keep it stable, not fix it.” Rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you, sir.” John breathed with relief.

“Yeah.” Blake cautiously made his way down the rope. Happy to touch the ground after fearing he'd fall he was so weak. Having not eaten for six days had taken its toll.

“Should we take care of you first?”

“No. Let's go see Mathew. Should teach him this before someone else breaks something.” heading over to his house. They passed the grand hall with all the voices shouting from inside. John looked nervously between him and the building. “Should we go in?”

“No, it can wait till after Mathew.”

“But what if someone gets hurt?”

“Vals already hurt. Marta and the guard will handle it if it gets serious enough in there. That's what they're here for.” Not bothering to even look at the building he gestured a hand toward.

“I guess, but letting him go on about you ...” His voice went quiet.

“People can not like me. Not everyone will and I can't force them too. If I don't let them yell it out then they'll say it in secret. Val did the same with Knoth, didn't she?”

“Yes.”

“If Farlow or whoever says I'm being too soft. Then maybe I am.”

“I don't think so. I rather call it giving mercy.”

“Thank you.”

When they reached Mathews office, John didn't bother to knock. Barging in right up to him sitting at his desk. “Mathew! Blake's here to help with Val's broken leg.” Talking fast to his boy.

“What?! When did that happ-”

“Recently.” He interrupted. “He's come down to show you how to make a splint.”

“But, I-”

“I know you don't know, but he can teach you to do it. So listen to him and maybe he can get to the hall quickly.”

Nodding his head still looking partly confused. “Oh, ah yes. Yes sir.” Facing Blake to receive instructions while his father ran out toward the hall.

Weird. He stared from John to Mathew. “Grab some sturdy branches and gauze.” Getting started. Through the lesson he could tell Mathew knew more than he did about splints. Collecting the proper sized branches without mentioning it. How to wrap and twine with suggestions coming as hidden questions for Blake to figure out. Getting the basics out Blake let go on instructing past that. “I think you got it. Let me know how Val is when you see her.”

“Yes sir. Do you need anything?”

“Nothing for me.” Handing the pill bottle over. “You can take these back, it was just a flu.” Aiming for the grand hall next. Peeking through the front door he saw everyone standing around listening or arguing back. Blake didn't want to shove through the crowd so he went around the back. While passing down the hall Marta heard him and came to greet him before he reached the main room.

“You're down.”

“Yeah, there were some issues. Came to deal with whatever's happening here.”

Her agitation for it all showed on a side eyed glance. “An idiot name Farlow runnin' his mouth.”

“Saying that he doesn't like me?”

“Yes.”

Passing by to enter the dining area. “Well, let's see what he has to say.” When he did enter, everyone went quiet. The one he guessed was Farlow stopped his loud ranting to face Blake. Of course it's the one with the half smile. He thought as he stared down at the man before the stage. His inner rage bubbling to the surface the longer he did. Still not knowing why he felt so. “You have something to say?”

“Plenty, we're all working hard down here while you laze up on a roof.”

“You all looked to be doing fine. Want me to hold a whip while you work? You're all adults who understand you have to work to bring food to the table.”

“We're not stupid. Of course we understand that, even a child would. I'm talking about handling those heretics left alone to stalk outside our town like a pack of wolves.”

“You want me to kill the Voltaire?”

“Isn't that obvious?”

“Don't like how I'm running things?”

“What aren't you understanding? You're too soft in discipline and faith, We'll never last with you. I'd have the problem solved without breaking our backs to care for heretics. We were taught to fear God's wrath, but now Temple Gates full of the scalled and their disease of the soul is here to ruin us. You struck us low then dug your claws in, as the devil always does. Our flock should be handled by someone who's lived here in rightful faith. A righteous shepard, not some judgmental outsider trying to change our traditions that have kept us safe from outside sins!”

“Alright, if that's how you feel. You're in charge now. What are you going to do?” His decree turned heads. Curious at Marta looking nervous for the first time ever.

A grin stretched across Farlows face. Delivering out orders without a moment's hesitation.“The heretics won't be given any mercy. Right now, Marta will go out with her guard and hunt every single one of them. Their bodies will be brought back and strung up as a warning to anyone else. Val will be the only one spared of death, that's too good for him. He'll be a pristine example of what happens to followers of the Devil. Slash him, burn him, drag him through the mud, he'll never get a moment's rest again. God will see our shining faith through our actions toward those against him.”

“What about everyone here?”

“What about them? Marta will deal with anyone else trying to do evil if the message isn't clear enough.”

“And who would that be? Everyone here who did what I said? The people you don't like because they sneezed in your presence?”

“They have nothing to fear from me, only God's judgment. They now have the chance to fix their mistakes with me in charge. Knoths teachings will be risen up to its former glory and your vile books will be forgotten. His true flock will rise to rule the earth and the rest will burn for eternity with you in the boiling lake of fire.”

“And when that's all said and done? What next?”

“We thrive and be fruitful as the lord wanted.”

“First of all, they have to eat. How will you get that done?”

“We take from the farms.”

“Take what? When? Do you know when you can plant?”

“Tsk, that's not hard to figure out. We have farmers for a reason.”

“Who works the farms? Do you know that? You only need to order one person and he handles the rest. Who is he?”

The smug smile dropped from Farlows face. Unable to answer any of Blake's questions.

“Name one lord aside from Marta. You should at least know one other. You work, don't you?”

“Of course I do.” He snapped. “But I don't have to answer who, do I? I'm in charge now.”

“Ha, no, you think I'd just hand it over? You don't give a fuck about these people. You haven't even paid attention to who the lords are.” Looking out to the crowd. Pointing out each lord he called. “James is in charge of farming. Liam builds, John hunts, his son Mathew is the lead doctor. Caring for the healed back home right now and there's Marta with the guard. Which one do you work for?” All eyes were waiting on Farlow to answer and they weren't happy. The one claiming they had to kill others for being leeches was looking like one himself. Blake glanced across the angry crowd. Focusing on Val he saw toward the back standing on her own just fine. Hmm. He noted in thought then continued his lesson. “If you want to be a leader you have to take care of everyone. Knoths mistake was he only cared for himself as a king and left everyone else in the slums. Don't be shut off like him, learn all that you can. You should know how to do a little in every job to keep it running smoothly.” Turning back to Farlow. “To help you out, you should start under James to learn about farming. He'll need to clear the fields before eventually plowing them in spring. When he thinks you know enough, you can work next under John and so on. If you take it seriously, you'll work hard to get the experience you need. After you learn how they run things then you have a chance to take the reins. If you fuck it up, at least you can decide which job you like in the meantime.”

“Of course you'd lie! See what he does!” Attempting to get the crowd riled up in his favor. “Plays tricks, deceives, notice he still does nothing against those heretics! He wants to feed you all to those disgusting sinners! Don't listen to him! The lord will forgive you if you turn from the Devil!”

Blake rolled his eyes, facing back toward the assembly. “If anyone else wants to join him, you may. It's not a punishment, it's to learn as much skill as you can. If you don't like your current job, you have a chance to test out another. If someone works hard and stays diligent, they can replace me.” Dipping his head to them he turned to head for his room. “Have a nice night. John, tomorrow I need to speak with you.” A low rumble of whispers filled the room he left.

Marta stepping close behind asked mid way to his room. “You'll let someone else take over?”

Exhausted and suffering a headache, he gave a halfhearted answer. “If they do well enough, sure, I can retire.”

“What if they order me to kill?”

Her question stopped him at his door. He looked at her, seeing the worry on her face. “You can say no…” I don't think anyone's told her that, definitely not Knoth. You did as you were told, no questions asked. Blake had to fix his mistake on not saying so earlier. “If you're not comfortable doing something, you can always say no. Even to me. ...” Questioning now how little he considered her thoughts before. “Do you even like your job? You don't have to keep doing it if you don't. I can get someone else to take over if you want.”

“I do- now. ... Never liked the things Knoth demanded of me. Every time he sent me out I prayed for it to end. For you, I will happily assist in all you ask.” Flashing him a slight smile.

Encouraging Blake to give one of his own. “Thank you.” Curiosity developing a deep question. Wondering how this all started with her. How much damage Knoth did over the course of her life. “… What made you join?” Inviting her in.

She let out a huff of air then a hum. “Mm, lookin' for some faith?” shrugging her shoulders as she sat. “Didn't have any at home, parents put theirs in the bottle. They Didn't have any in each other with the daily fights. Being a tall kid they thought I'd better get a job, quit dealing with school. Was honestly considerin' just to get out of the house. I couldn't cross the main room without entering a fight with my drunkard pa. Through the years I got used to hearin' him step across the apartment. Avoiding all the times he was stompin' around for a drink. Passing down the hall, sneaking from the house for one to sneaking from their room to the fridge for another. Scent of alcohol stuck to him like it was his own skin. Noticin' steps I used at school too for all those trying to beat me. A dreadful feeling of readying to be attacked and then readying to lunge first before they did. Lot of fightin' got me kicked. I still hate hearing people's steps 'round here. Even more annoying when they sneak, but makes them all the more easier to hunt.”

Blake uncomfortably chuckled. “You found me because you hate my walk? I thought it was because I was being too loud.”

“Yours ain't so, being so soft footed. Most of the time you we're a chore to find without your mumblin'.”

“Mumbling?”

“You mumble constantly while thinking.”

“No I don't.”

“Constantly.” She affirmed.

“Well, so do you with all your verses. I heard you coming before I saw you and that's saying a lot.” gesturing to her height.

“Sure is.” tapping a finger by her eye in referring to his glasses.

“That's not fair, I can't compete with the eagle eyes you got.”

She puffed out an amused air through a smirk. “Spent my time looking out the window at things passin' by. Couldn't do anything else. No money and parents didn't want me talking to other kids about home. When school kicked me, it was what passed the day.”

“How'd you meet Knoth then? At a church?”

Her expression dropped. “Was 'bout fifteen, watching from my window, when I saw Knoth preaching of the lord one day on the street. He spoke a lot of comforting words that I'd never gotten before. Listened to him for a few days before I went out to meet him. Parents didn't care, being so close to home. I spilled to him my sorrows in return he fed me words of comfort. He gave me a lot of promises. That I'd be freed of my pain and sufferin' at home. That I would be saved if I followed his word. For he was a prophet of the lord tasked to save the chosen few.” pausing to twist her hands around her cane. “Gave him whatever he asked to keep in good standing with the lord. To keep his promises true.” She sighed out frustrated verses. “I followed him everywhere. Soon after my sixteenth birthday he invited me to join his cause on a ranch. No-one came lookin' for me and nobody could tell I wasn't twenty, like he told me to say. Else I'd be “Taken back home” and I didn't want that. I tried to do everything for him. I studied his gospel so many times. Knoth said for us to go forth and be fruitful and I did as I was told.”

“You had kids? But you were so young.”

“Tried, It'd fail a couple terms in.”

“I-I'm sorry.”

“No need, thought it was some curse that'd grab a hold of my soul. Now I call it a blessin' in disguise.” Nose crinkling. “Knoth would have been the father of a few.”

“Ah.” sharing her disgust.

“Years passed, then the raid happened and we were all displaced. He secluded himself up on a mountain before coming down missin' an eye. Preachin' about a blessed vision he saw of some far off holy land. But also a dreadful warning of the end's approach. By the time I was eighteen, I followed him out into that desert. Now here we are in Temple Gate.” Gesturing around them.

“Did you start enforcing then?”

“Not really, dealt with some minor fussin' a few generations into Temple Gate. Didn't take up the pick 'till a few months ago.”

“Why by then?”

“The coming end was always talked about, but nuthin' much was done. Speakin' the gospel, growin' the flock as fast as anyone could. Knoth started having more visions of the ends approach. One day he called me and Val to the compound tellin' us of a new vision that the Antichrist's arrival was on the horizon. Handed me the pick and told Val what had to be done with the children. Val set people in line before Knoth dubbed me to take over in that. He knew Val couldn't be the righteous blade he wanted. Things were dealt with differently after that. No absolution was to be given to betrayers of the prophet. A curfew was set with strict order. Fences and walls were built to separate the districts. No child by ten years of age was allowed to live. Mercy would be given when the end times passed and the Antichrist was slain from our flock. Gatherings were only to be done for mass headed by Knoth. When I was first given the blade it felt like carrying a boulder. Got used to it soon enough when I was given routes to pace. Knoth praised my fury for steps. Said it helped “Catch sinners readying to do evil.”. He ordered me to kill anyone I crossed paths with. Sent out to fetch who he demanded for questioning. Sent out again to slay the names he pulled from their mouths. I followed so carefully to keep his promises true, that'd it'd be over soon. A little more blood here or there wouldn't matter in the end. For the lord commanded, so shall it be. He always made it seem like it was around the corner, despite the months passin'. Each gatherin' had less and less attending. Felt a pain in my heart to see and I couldn't help but bring it up. Knoth was sure to feed me some comforting words like always. Set me out to smite another round of wicked souls plotting against them. All while his words rung in my head.”

Blake remained silent even when she finished. Unsure of what to say, he wasn't much for encouraging words. Could he help after Knoth did so much damage to people's souls? Fixing a town was one thing as long as you could get the materials. Thinking over it all, he took in a breath. “Seems like you were looking for someone who cared, not necessarily faith. Knoth saw what you needed and knew exactly what to say to twist it to his needs. Without him, you have a chance to start over.” Pushing the thought forward. “You can do that. Being lord of the guard doesn't have to be your life.”

She joked. “You're not gonna force me to grab a friend, are ya?”

“Ah, consider it like a soul searching heal journey thing.” He so elegantly put it with a chuckle. “Find what you like that wasn't allowed the time for.”

“I'll get on that. Maybe after you do some healin' first. You need food?”

“Yeah, that'd be great.” He smiled, watching her leave briefly to fetch him a bowl of chili. Thanking her before returning to sit at his desk. The starvation hit him hard after the first spoonful. Forgetting the silverware to chug it straight from the bowl.

Next morning when he came out for breakfast everyone shouted his name with a hold up of their cups. Happy to have him fully back from the roof. He raised his hand to awkwardly smile at them all. Searching for a specific someone to check their leg. Again he saw nothing wrong with Val, either they weren't Val or John had lied like he thought. When he got his food he found his plate bigger than usual. “Uh, this looks like a lot.” He commented to the kitchen staff.

“It is. You look starved.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“We know, but you need it.”

A second cook added. “We'll only do it for a few meals. Enough to get you better.”

“Yeah, okay. As long as it's temporary.” His mouth watering at the huge plate. Juicy venison sausages on a pile of mashed potatoes mixed with caramelized onions. It didn't last a minute once it entered his room. Making him sick after shoving it down so quickly. Recovered, he went out to fetch John for a talk in his room. Tuning to him after closing the door. “So, when did Val break her leg?”

“Recently.”

“How recent?”

“uh, hour before dinner.”

“How'd it happen?”

“I don't know. She never said.”

“How'd you find out about it? Talked with her?”

“Yes.”

“You saw her in an hour? She must've been a lot closer to spare you the full six hour journey to the mines and back.”

“Uh, she was. She- thought it was important. Closer for care and-” Shifting a shoulder on each stumble of his words.

“Her legs fine, isn't it?” His annoyance peeked.

“... Yes.”

“So you lied, again.”

“I- I, it wasn't-” He stumbled. “Wasn't my idea.”

“It was Val's?”

“Yes. She didn't like how long you were staying up there.”

“Mm, well I was coming down anyway. Was getting tired of hearing Farlow yelling across the way. … How's Val otherwise?”

“She's doing better.”

“What's she been doing?”

“She's been acting like her old self.” Looking down at his hands. “Felt like she came back after Knoths death.” Rubbing them together slightly when he looked back up. “Around his end I traveled to tell her the big news. I wanted to at least do that before distancing myself. When you came down from the roof and did all those things up to that lake ceremony. I had to go tell her about them. I went in the night and when I found her in the mines, she was different. She was confused on how they ended up the way they were. Starving, dying, inside of a dark depressing cave reeking of death. She had pulled herself together the days before to help the wounded from the collapsed mine shafts. Caring for the sick with only a few fit members left to help forage. After I told her, she came to see what was happening. She watched then left. I didn't have time to ask her anything when you were heading for outside and then the mudslide. Asked her the next time I could though. She wasn't sure what to think, mostly fearing Temple Gate would finish them off.” Gesturing a hand around. “She kept her focus on just getting people to survive. She had a lot of guilt for not taking better care of them. With your help she's had time to breathe.”

“How's the rest of the clan? Is the medicine helping?”

“Greatly. Some can manage a small walk around the caves now.”

“Good. If she needs help with anything else she can ask. That's all I needed, thanks John. You can go now and tell Mathew he doesn't need to update me on Val's leg.”

He gave a sheepish grin as he left. “I will, thank you and sorry.”

Blake chuckled before he headed out with his little black book. Relying on the lords to give all the numbers he missed recording. Enjoying how much James was thrilled to have Farlow work the fields. Furthermore Blake was excited to see others taking up the offer of testing other jobs. At least gaining some experience in mixed skills.

“Hey, uh, you've been outside before. During Knoths time, right?”

“Yeah, used to live there.” James confirmed.

“Why'd you join Knoth?” It was a fascinating question that he wanted to know. Drawn up from a peek into Marta's and Val's history.

“Ah, didn't have anything else. I was young and dumb running with a gang. A home robbery went wrong and I ended up killing someone. Not proud about it and wish I could change it. Went on the run from the law all over the united states for a few years. Was homeless and thinkin' of skipping to Mexico until I saw Knoth preaching on the streets one day. Wasn't much of a church man, my family sure weren't either. Decided to give “God” a chance at helping me. Knoth told everyone exactly what we wanted to hear. If we followed him we'd have a home, love, money, lives where we weren't rejected. We ate it up and followed him to a ranch eventually. Thankful to be where we were in the growing community he gathered around him. It felt like one big family living together. Eating meals at the table, raising kids, helping each other through chores. Being a shoulder to those sufferin' a tragedy. Then the raid came and most of us were caught. Our desperation to cling to what's left made us hungry all the more for his gospel. He came off that mountain with no eye and a depressing vision. Fear struck into our hearts that everything would be taken away when the end came. A single hope we could save it all, long as we followed him.”

“When'd you stop eating his gospel then?”

“Things began to crack after finding Temple Gate. We weren't the first ones here, the natives were. Knoth claimed that they were demons sent to stop us from claiming our holy land. We couldn't let a single one get away. For some, killing was far too easy. Cant say my hands were clean that day. I didn't want to turn back toward the desert. Alone to face the world that hated me, rightfully so. But back then I didn't believe I had done anything wrong. Far too young and dumb I followed another bad path offering my heart's desires. This time instead of some white trash with gold chains it was a fat man with a bible. We cleared the land and moved in immediately to forget everything. For the most part it became a community again. Eating together, raising kids, farming, you get it. Knoth enforced his gospel even harder to grow the community up from its remaining handfuls. Marriages became almost a daily matter. Some weren't so happy, but nobody argued. It was what the lord wanted and we didn't dare risk our flock falling a second time. Our struggles were thought to be over. Kids were all over the place. We had hearty meals to fill our bellies. Only the odd occurrence that ruined the peace. We covered those cracks with a bit of chewing gum and it was never brought up again. Then around when he decided to cull the- ” Lowing his head for a moment.

“The kids?”

“Yeah.” clearing his throat. “That was the death spiral. Our wives were taken by Knoth. Sons and daughters paired with their parents when their spouses died. We ignored it, made all sorts of excuses. “They were happy to serve the prophet.” “Have to keep the lord's army growing.” “We're still a community of faith that'll see through these dark times.” A bunch of bullshit. The good times made it easy to wear the horse-blinders. Breaking bread with family and neighbors. The dances around a warm fire with glasses of wine. Staying meant staying happy and free. Knoth made sure to repeat those sayin's every Sunday. Those good times died with those kids. ... I tried holdin' onto the faith, but I had to face the truth. Things weren't as blessed as Knoth was sayin'. We all started suffering nightmares when we weren't awake to suffer in the day. Some of us wanted to leave, but we've been here for so long with still nothing for us on the outside. No family, money, or even old paperwork to get a footing for help. We gave Knoth everything when we joined. Can't imagine what it's like for the younger members. They don't exist to the outside. No social security numbers or even birth certificates.”

“You think if we introduced them to the outside slowly, they'd be okay?”

“What, to live out there?” His brows furrowed.

“No, I want them to not be scared of it. They can go out, get familiar, and be fine to get what they need. Without needing me to lead a group every time.”

“Ah, maybe? Teach them carefully what to expect and take small groups at a time. I suggest you don't start till spring when the harsh weather lets up.”

Scribbling a note of it in his book. “Thanks, I'll make a plan.” Moving on to gather numbers from Mathew.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 11

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 10 Sleight

Next chap: Ch: 12 Wyrd

_____________________________________

~Ch: 11 Dysania~

John was let go from the jail. He didn't return a report that day. That night Blake received more warnings from his dreams. He was running in a blind panic through the dark dirty mines. Roots snagging on him as a danger he didn't see, but could feel, approached. When he made it to a room lit up by torches he had found Lynn. Covered in clay with nothing much but some light clothes ware. Heavily pregnant, but also no longer with her whole front split in half from her hips to her collar bone. Organs spilling from the opening to collect in a bloody pile at her feet. “Look what they did to me!” She screamed at him. Blood mixed tears falling off her face. “You planned this!”

He pleaded. “No! No I-”

“You helped cover Jessica's! You wanted me dead next! You kill everyone you're close to!”

“No! I never wanted-”

“Angel of death! Who are you after next? Is that why you keep Val free? Have her do your dirty work?”

“I want to help! I can-”

“Save everyone? You can't save them! They're all monsters who should rot with Knoth! There's nothing good in them! You saw it all and swept it away like with Jessica's murder! You told them it would be okay! Is it though?! You want to save a town of rapist baby killers?! You deserve to burn with them you disgusting piece of shit! A spineless coward! How did I ever love you?!”

He felt a pain not only in his chest, but from his arms. His head shot down to find many skinned hands clawing into him. Loutermilch's voice taunting him. “You can't hide your sins, Blake.” His arms yanked Blake back into a suffocating darkness.

Shutting his eyes tightly before he broke free from the painful grip. Eyes opening to him sitting up in bed, wheezing through a tight chest. God, maybe I can get that doctor to give me an inhaler. He got up to face the day with a trickle of energy. Book in hand to record what they had in stock. Meeting up with James for updates.

“No more food was stolen.”

“I know, everything should be settled now.”

“You caught the thieves? What'd you do with them? In jail now?”

“No, I said I would make arrangements to make them a messenger between me and Val.”

“You really went with that? I'm tellin' you they'll stab us all in the back. We're gonna wake up one day and find everything gone or on fire.” He grumbled. “Well, what did you tell them?”

“If they follow the rules, I'd help them through given rations.”

“A waste on those who do anything but help.”

“They do, a few are working already.” Puffing up the numbers, last thing Blake wanted was for James to start harassing people. If it sounded like a group was mixed in he'd be more cautious on going after someone.

“Who?”

“Names are between me and Marta.”

“I should know if they're working for me.”

“It's not necessary. Are they working? If yes, then there's no issue. If no, then get them working or tell Marta if they're a problem.”

“Tsk, I don't need to tell Marta. I'll handle the damn heretics myself.”

“You'll treat them like everyone else. I better not hear you starting witch hunts!”

Glaring down at Blake. “Or you'll what?”

Returning the glare he threatened. “I'll let Marta decide what.”

His confident glare shattered. Looking anywhere but toward Blake as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah ... Okay. … Long as they work and don't cause trouble. Guess it ain't so bad, then.”

“Good.” He ended the conversation. Leaving the farm lands back toward Mathew.

Separating dosages out from multiple pill bottles on a long counter and into small envelopes. Readying to pass out medicine for those needing it at the required time. He was becoming a doctor in training of sorts inside a small house turned hospital. Picking up first aid knowledge from Blake, who was always taught these things as common. “Hey.” Mathew smiled in greeting across the counter top.

“Hey, how's the supply holding up?”

“Doing fine. We won't run out of painkillers and most the other stuff until next month. Antibiotics we still have bottles left over in the back that aren't being used.”

“I'll do a count to be sure. … Your dad tell you of our recent talk?”

“... Yes. … he's trying.”

“What did you both take?”

“Food and medication that one day. We avoided taking anything until there was no choice.”

“Mm.” Could be lying. I should have interrogated him earlier before John talked to him. But if anything else was taken, I'll find out. Tapping his pen against the book. “What do you think of Val? Why'd you join her?”

“Used to see her all the time when she lived in Templegate. Val wasn't always like she was back around Knoths death. She used to be gentle, caring and supportive like a mother was. She was a better listening shoulder then Knoth was. Some of my best friends were her kids. After she left I only saw her in brief meetings. Never talked directly with her after that, that was all my dad. After Knoth gave the commanded with the kids a few months back, me and dad lost our faith. I was one of the lucky few to slip by. Due to a few years age difference, if I was younger I would've been one of those with slit throats. Be prepared like lambs for the slaughter. I passed the school rooms of the younger kids before that day. Lessons were all about celebrating their deaths. … That they could all be some hell spawn coming to kill everyone. Friends, family, didn't matter. They didn't know if they were some enemy against God. Told that-” His eyes watered. “... That everything will be fine. I watched my younger friends - by their parents own hands. Some took quick care of their many kids in one go. Val didn't have that mercy. She saved all those kids then- we all watched how she had to go on the longest. Rounds since the early morning carrying into the night. Knoth didn't allow anyone to help her, it was “Her duty to carry out.” Only gracing her with a break at mid day. Which didn't help at all. ... I can't imagine how unbearable the next rounds were. Knoth smiled the whole time she had to line up her kids for the pyre to be cut. Comforting them to stop crying before she stabbed them to death. Whole time Knoth sang songs of how God would carry us through it all. Val distanced herself from Knoth after that, then Temple Gate altogether. Speakin' of the nightmares we suffered. She held secret gatherings on the cliff side by the lake to talk freely about that stuff. She fled with many others after a while. Me and dad stayed because we were afraid to run. We joined her cause after things were getting too bad in Temple Gate. Knoth's paranoia shot through the roof. ordered Marta to kill all the heretics on nightly rounds. Lynch mobs got you in the day. Neighbors we knew, who openly refused to join Val, were killed for no reason. Because Knoths paranoia of who else would run to join her got worse. Over time others wanted to escape, but no one knew how. Knowing how Val used to be, dad snuck out to meet her in the old meeting spot by the lake. We became coyotes - smugglers for people to reach the mines. Things were … Okay. For a short time. Me and dad thought we'd eventually join the safe haven Val was making. After we saved as many as we could. Then it felt like too much with Val after a while, but we didn't know what else to do. Val- ... We don't know what happened. Dad guesses she had a slow fall off after killing her kids. A lot of us were having nightmares about that night. Some seeing other sins they committed. She talked in secret of all the nightmares she had, repeating that night. As if that day wasn't enough for her to suffer through once. She lost her gentle compassion and it was replaced by a obsession for sin. As well as other things I won't say. Death had surrounded us on all sides. We stopped our smuggling for Val, afraid she'd go down the path of Knoth soon enough.”

“What about those in the basement?”

Mathew loosely shrugged a shoulder. “There was no plan for them. We just saw the chance to get them out of cages and we did. Where they fled from there was their choice. I'm Sure they all went to Val though, along with a p-” cutting himself off. “Some others.”

“Mm, … That night someone died in the hall. What do you know? You didn't just run home.”

Mathew tensed, looking away without saying anything. Eyes flicked back and forth before he took a deep breath. “When I was running back home. I saw someone running toward the hall.”

“Did you recognize them?”

“It was too dark. I couldn't see any details about them.”

“Why didn't you say this earlier?”

“Afraid of what would happen if I did. I just wanted to get out of there. Didn't want to get involved.”

“I can understand that.” Recalling his own past. “Thank you Mathew.” Dipping his head before going to count meds. Recording everything was where it should be, he moved on. Weird to think Val was different less then a year ago. Was she really that caring or just more so than a lot of people here? Someone who threatened to leave a cut was preferable against a torture rack. Maybe John could tell me more of what was before. If he comes back at all. The second day passed by without John coming forward. Blake thought of giving him more time, but he couldn't wait for Val. The longer she refused to follow rules the stronger the possibility she could plot something. Leaving the barn he saw no alarming changes in the food taken for the day's meals. Stepping back through town to follow his daily routine. Closing his notebook to protect the pages from the falling snow. It had gotten so much worse these past few days. Wondering if he'd be able to make it to town in all this white. If he couldn't manage that, things would be a lot more serious. A chunk of dirt road was cleared of trees, but that only got them part of the way. The journey would still take a day or two on foot. He stopped under the covered porch of the burned church to open up the book again. Marking down his options to go over on what seemed best to pull off. Writing paused when his sunlight disappeared before Marta's shadow. She stood by his side waiting to be acknowledged before speaking.

“Yes?”

“I'm suspicious of one of the healed.”

“Are they tagged?”

“can't tell. They all wore hand wrappings of some kind, even before the trap. Looked around the barn for anything and noticed one actin' strange by the fields. Managed them into a vice in the middle of their work. Couldn't slip away while James locked them down on tasks. They avoid me when I approach. If I do surprise them in getting close, they freeze up.”

“Weeeell, can't imagine why ...” Looking Marta up and down. “You're very approachable. What do they look like?”

“All covered in black, same as your skittish shadow.” She let out an amused snort. “The others stand aside, but they don't freeze like them.”

“Mathew said he saw someone running toward the hall while he was running away. Maybe they’re the same?”

“I did manage to catch them walking when I kept my distance. It's been a long time, but I still recognize their steps.” What she said next turned his blood cold. “ If I saw their eyes I could be more certain. Val was one of the few with bright blue.”

“You think she's hiding with the healed?!”

“Bet on my soul. I haven't seen her outside the walls. Not since before our hunts started to be ruined. Same time when the healed were integrated. Have you?”

“Which one is she?”

“Ain't much to distinguish her from the others in black. I only know them by their steps. A set pace to make time without disturbing the peace. Hard for you to pick up, but-” turning to head inside the church she tipped her cane back. “That one leanin' on the rain barrel.” Gesturing behind her before stepping further inside.

Blake took a long sweeping glance to not seem too noticeable. Spotting the one Marta mentioned, ages away to the point he had to squint, leaning against a water barrel wrapped heavily in baggy black cloth to hide their form. Keeping their head down with face concealed by more wrappings if not by the large overhung hood. Even their hands were covered by gloves. Most the healed just wrapped them for easy bandage replacement. Blake pretended to write a few things down before heading inside to speak further. “what's she been doing?”

“Mainly keeping to schedule as every other healed since John was caught few days ago. Working 'til dinner then sitting in the hall, but not eating a thing. After that, head back toward the homes of the healed. Disappearing from there to I don't know where. Can't get close enough without scaring 'em off.”

“That's it?” He assumed she'd be doing a lot more. “Has she still been following me?”

“She'll take a look at you, but nothin' more. I'd say it's just 'cause I'm keeping close.”

“Dammit.”

“Want me to keep following?”

“Yeah, make sure they don't do anything, but Don't get too close. I don't want to ruin John's chance of talking if she's too nervous. Either he convinces her to make a deal or we'll handle them some other way.” Ready to dismiss her when he added. “And keep them away from me if they get too close.”

“Stay aware. I'll keep up the rounds.” Leaving him to continue his work.

When the sun set he picked up his dinner. On the way to his room he took a moment to look over the hall. Now that he was looking, it was noticeable that one wasn't eating. Not even having a cup to possibly drink from. Marta was sitting in the far back corner, eating her own dinner while watching the room like a hawk. Moving on he carried his bowl of vegetable mixed rice soup to his room. When this is over maybe we can pick up hunting again. Setting his food down on the table. Grabbing full buckets under his roof leaks to toss out the hallway window. Placing them back for the next time his roof dripped. Tell Liam about the leak. He reminded himself for the thousandth time. Transferring numbers between books as he finished his soup.

His sleep going as peaceful as the last. Running blindly through the caves with heretics at his heels. Thoughts racing on why he was here. Was it to talk things out? Was it to fix something? How could he stop them? If he tried talking would they only kill him? He had to talk to Val. She's the only one they might listen to. But he had no idea where she was or if she'd listen. Where's John? Wait- his eyes opened in bed after his mind caught up with him. “Dammit.” He mumbled with a rub of his eyes. Hearing the loud dripping of his roof he checked the bucket. Filled to the brim he got up to toss it out. When he chucked the water into the falling snow he noticed one in black making their way back to the healed area. He hoped they were heading back from talking with John. His time for confirming an answer was almost up. Blake rubbed his tired face in turning back to his room. Falling back into bed with a shove of the bucket back under the leak. Most hoped to dream of their loved ones face, but not him.

Lynn impaled on a collection of thorny branches coughing up blood. When he tried to desperately help her off she laughed at him. “You did this, what are you doing?” She laughed. “Some leader, why don't you tell them to do it?”

Who? He looked back to see a gathering of clay covered heretics. What? Facing Lynn when he saw himself covered in clay without any clothes.

“Look at you. You're just like them! How could you join them! After all they did to me! Don't you understand! They killed me and you're rewarding them for it!”

“I wanted to help.”

“You helped with Jessica and now with me.” Her voice drilled into his head. “Your sins won't stay hidden forever.” Pointing down to one of his arms.

Branches painfully pierced through his skin as they slithered from the inside out. He ripped them out in reaction to the choking vines. The sounds of his bones cracking to the vines woke him up wheezing. He sat up to look at his shaking hands. Covered in sweat he winced at the Light pooling under the door telling him it was morning. He felt unusually hot like the start of a fever. While it was still early morning, before anyone would be up, he decided to go cool in the river. Towels in hand he walked to the branch off of the river. It was safe there as it didn't meet the mine runoff yet. When it came to bathing he used the small shower in the great hall. Annoyed at it, because half the time it would stop and go on giving water. Deciding to just use the river when he was up for it. Setting his things aside he walked right into the water without undressing. Using it as a lazy way to wash his clothes. He looked down at the water, his reflection standing out with the sky Grayed by clouds. Various scars covering him that he could see directly on his arms. Smooth skin turned rugged by old burns. A similar patch marked the lower left of his face. The skin untouched by fire growing a 5 o'clock shadow he'd need to shave eventually. Eyes following the trail of the rest of his scars. Remembering where some came from like the dips in his hands. While others he wasn't sure, Remembering all the stupid things like running into shin high cacti. His attention drifted off to parts of Temple Gate in the distance. Adding more to his mental map of the place. He remembered a few areas, despite being chased through them. Others almost, but after fixing so much it didn't look the same. Was it bad, what he was doing? I can't leave now. I gave them all hope, I fixed their lives, what would I be if I just walked out now?

Lynn's voice drilled into him on who he was for staying. -A pathetic man who sides with killers because it's easier than going home to an empty apartment.-

They're not all monsters. They were doing what they thought was best. They've changed.

-Keep siding with them and see where it gets you. You’re too comfortable around the same ones who wanted you dead.-

He dunked his head under the water to drown out his thoughts. Listening instead to the water flowing by. Soaking in the cool stream when he saw Marta's blurry figure above the water. He sat up on the shallow shore to hear what she had.

“John wants to speak with you.”

He nodded and rose out of the water. “Coming, Need to get dry.” Sloshing water off him as he dried enough to put his shoes back on.

“That skittish was talking with John.”

“Mm.” his head dipped down. “ Where'd they meet?”

“They met outside the center of the healed blocks. Off in the forest away from everyone. Didn't hear what they were sayin'. Could tell both weren't happy though.”

“Great. … Do you remember what Val was like? Before the children- em.” cutting it there with a clear of his throat. “Was she always so - aggressive?”

Marta looked off to the side. “No.” Letting out a rough hum when she looked back. “More of, off.” Walking with him down the dirt path.

“Off how?”

“She always brushed off what was expected of her. Unruly toward her father, who trained her to take a deacon position. Calming down after he passed. When she got older and did gain the position, she was looser than her father and grandfather. Taking work Knoth snubbed, but she'd sweet talk him into it. Carein' for kids was one of 'em. Knoth stated It was “Women's work” and Val had “More important things to do.” Being a deacon. did fit her though. Soft on matters, but stern when correction was needed. Somethin' she picked up from her mother, who was a teacher. She made sure the kids studied hard and got to where they needed to be for mass. Knoth had her sacrifice a lot to keep carein' for those kids. No matter, Val made sure the kids knew he had to be respected. As well as keepin' up with handed down orders.”

“She ever hurt anyone?”

“Before, no. She'd never even done corporal punishment, like what Knoth leaned to. There was a slow shift when she was given orders to prepare the kids. Back talkin' Knoth far more than she used to. She wasn't so patient when he gave her deacon orders. Preferring to spend time with the kids as time dwindled. Knoth calmed her down after a few arguments before the day. That didn't happen after the kids were gone. She dropped her duty's to question what was going on. She tried talking to me about it by the lake, but I refused to listen to her questioning of Knoths actions. I noticed she was missin' a necklace that showed our symbol after that. Her talks turned to Raging at anyone, including me about it all. Turning aloof she wandered around at night, defying Knoths curfew. He tried being patient with his chief deacon. Thinkin' it was getting better when her nightly walks calmed her rage. Listening better to his calming words rather than giving hollowed looks. Until he got word she was makin' some concerning offers to people. Keeping details secret, but hinted heavily of sexual want. Instead of dragging her in, he convinced her to talk with him. The last conversation they ever had.

Things started out calm. I was present on the side in case Val couldn't be wrangled in. Knoth gave her a bunch of words that this would all pass. That he knew it was hard for her as well as everyone else missin’ their children. She needed some prayers and would be set back on the proper path after some spiritual healing. It looked to be working until Knoth got to speaking of God's forgiveness. How he would bless us all in the end. I saw a look in her eye that I knew well from my youth. It was the one time I was ahead of her. She lunged at him, almost sliced his throat if I hadn't blocked her. I'd wielded that weapon long enough to handle it, but struggled to shove her back. If you ever looked hard at that pick when I had it, it used to curve slightly down. She struck it hard enough to dent it almost straight by its middle. Sparks flew off our blades when I did shove her back. All of us stood by trying to understand what happened. She looked the most taken aback.”

“That you blocked her?”

“More like by her own actions. When Knoth spoke her name she fled from the building. He continued yelling her name and she continued ignorin' him. I wasn't used to the chase yet and stood still by Knoths side. He didn't send me right away neither, Knoth was confident she'd return when demanded to. Knoth sent her a letter to give herself up and that he'd be merciful when she did. When she didn't, I was sent to fetch her with a lynching mob in the night. She was long gone with only a letter announcing her departure left behind. Nothing felt the same after that. Buildings she used to run went from warm and inviting to being left quiet and cold. From then on Templegate was shedding members to join her side. What heart Templegate had left after the children was ripped out. Nobody trusted one another, everyone was a possible enemy. I was angry at them all. Why risk they're souls, why betray the one who gave them everything? Did they hate God? Did God hate them for what they've done?” Breathing out, tired by the memory's. “More so at Val for starting it all. If only she didn't, then this or that wouldn't have happened. But it would've all the same without her being the main cause. A festering rot eating at us that no one knows where it started anymore.” Going quiet as they reached the hall.

Blake asked Marta to bring John while he changed. Drying off quick as he could in his room to redress. Coming out around the time John stepped in.

Appearing exhausted after possibly arguing with Val since being let go. “Twenty-seven.” handing in his answer.

“How'd she take it?”

“Not happy, but I've been telling her we should've done this a while ago.”

“That why you didn't run after being dyed?”

He nodded. “She tried convincing me to run, but I took the gamble on it working out. Things were getting worse and if this didn't happen. … it wouldn't have gone any better. Took a lot of convincing, but I'm sure she sees it the same now.” Tapping the table before continuing. “She doesn't want to risk anybody coming to pick up the rations. Can they be dropped off at a certain spot?” Voice just as tired hinting defeat already before Blake could answer.

“Depends where.”

“Past the lake to about the eastern mining mountain river.”

“That's a bit far.”

“Yes, it's the halfway point. You could transport it all fast across water and stop before the rapids. Its not close to you, but also not too close to us.”

“Alright, I can do that, but I need to check if we have a boat. Might need one built. I'll aim to get a week's rations out soon if not by the end of the day.”

“I know there are a couple tied to the small fishing shed. Good for what we need it for.”

“I'll go see after this. Is there anything you recommend that they need?” Opening up the door for John to add things on.

He tapped the table before fidgeting with his hands on if he should say. “More medicine. It helped some recover the last time, but others are still bedridden with a nasty cough. High fevers and heavy wheezing.”

“How cold is it up there?”

“If it's not snowing we get regular frost. The insides are no warmer unless we get some bonfires going.”

“Could be pneumonia. Do you have anything up there?”

“No, when Knoth stopped bothering with management due to the end of the world's approach. So did they. Scavenging enough to hold off until the next day. Never expected to still be here at all. When Knoth died and the sun still rose they figured out quick that they needed to pick up the pieces.”

“Alright.” jotting down some notes. “Maybe I can make some care packages on top. Blankets, meds, matches, bandages. Would a cooking pot help?”

“Greatly, they've been using rock slabs or sticks for cooking.”

“Okay.” scribbling it down. “Anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Since everything's settled and there won't be anymore theft, you can pick up hunting again. Long as you don't go favoring Val in where the meat goes.”

“No sir, promise.”

“Tonight I'll announce the agreement.”

“Uh, should we do that?”

“People are gonna ask why I'm sending a bunch of stuff across the lake.”

“Yeah, but- people are gonna be pissed.”

“I know, let me handle them. I won't mention you, I'll keep it to “hidden connections”.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Maybe you should stay in tomorrow. Get some rest.”

“I will. Looks like you should to.” Gesturing to Blake, still burning from his fever.

Sweat building already at his collar. Noticing now how dry his mouth was. “Yeah, I might.” Already wanting to go sit back in the river. Trading their goodbyes, Blake went out to gather up the supplies. Testing one of the boats John mentioned earlier. Assisting James with the gathering of rations. Dreading for when he'd have to make the announcement. All he wanted to do was sleep after running around all day. Taking a cold shower to dull the fever, refusing to cool. Picking up a box of meds from Mathew. Fearing maybe he caught something more serious than a possible flu he kept one bottle. Careful to gather up everything else for the boat delivery. A pile of blankets from storage and some cooking pots. Setting them away with the loaded food ready to be sent. Looking at the horizon with the setting sun he turned to James with a group of healed. “Take it to the mouth of the river. Place it on the shore closest to the mountain.”

“You want us to go now? What about the announcement?”

“I'm going to make it after you leave. The Voltaire get what they need and you won't be here for the riot about to happen.”

He laughed. “Pfft, you best keep Marta close.” Pushing away from shore to get the boat moving. “They may be wantin' a hanging over this.” Rowing away with the others.

“Ugh.” he sighed. Taking deep breaths the whole way to the hall. Passing by the whole town eating inside to the front of the stage. Seeing Val among them sitting at the back. Knocking on the podium's top to gather everyone's attention. “Alright, ...” Not sure exactly how to announce this. “After some discussion I have made a diplomat between us and the Voltaire. They will be passing messages between me and Val to handle any conflicts that arise.” Murmuring whispers bubbled up from the crowd. Quieting down when he spoke again. “I gave the Voltaire an ultimatum three days ago. Either they start following the rules we go by, or else. If they agreed, I would help by giving rations and other supplies.”

Receiving the expected simultaneous. “What?!” From the crowd. Followed by many outraged voices. “You can't do that!” “They already stole our food and now we're giving them more?!” “They haven't worked for it!”

He shouted over the crowd. “They agreed and I've already sent the first week of supplies!” But they only got louder. Standing up to crowd at the stage edge.

Silenced by Marta. “QUIET.” She ordered as she walked to the front. Standing by the stage as a physical reminder for everyone to behave. The smarter ones stepped back to their seats.

“Thank you. … They agreed and I sent the supplies. Everything was carefully considered. I counted out how well we can hold without those supplies and we'll be fine well into next year. This deal only stays as long as they follow the rules.”

The shouting picked up again. A particular man caught all of Blake's attention. “And what if they don't?! What if they steal more anyway?!” His words were no different from everybody else's. Something about him however, unsettled Blake by his looks. Reddish brown hair turned partly white by a burn across his scalp. Half his face carved by massive gashes. One giving him a false permanent half smile. He'd seen many scars before, having him question why this was so different. “What if they kill one of us?!” Blake had to face away from him when his stomach threatened to come up.

Marta snapped the crowd quiet. “Ay.”

“Then they won't be getting anything and I'll send out the guard to hunt them down.”

“We should have killed them!” The riled up crowd chanted. “Kill 'em!” “Kill them!” “Kill them!”

“No, I will not be doing that!”

“Why not?!” some at the front started questioning. “What are you gonna do to them then?”

That half scarred member spoke again. “Throw them in jail where they'll leach our supplies anyway? Heretics deserve to be crucified for their sins. Leave 'em for the vultures to feast!”

Blake was stuck staring at them. A clawing sensation gouging at his brain to remember them. His ill feeling knotted into a furious fire. Marta gave him a look, asking if she should step in. He gestured a rejection with a wave of his hand. Answering the question. “If it comes down to it. They'll be jailed.”

“This is stupid!” “Why should we help them?! They never helped us!” “Let them starve!”

“Because they deserve as much help as everyone else here. The decisions been made, there's no changing it now.”

“Why?! They killed so many of us across that mountain!” The front standees refused to back down. “Tortured us, chased us down and ruined every waking moment of our lives!” “How many of us were mangled?!” “This isn't fair!”

Blake couldn't contain himself any longer. His blood pulsing in his skull alongside a dreaded rage he felt so strongly only once before. “Look at me!” Pointing to his scarred body.” Don't you dare question me on what's fair! you did all those things to me and more! Did you all forget you hunted me all over this town?! Stabbing, beating me down, never giving me a moment's rest. You would've killed me if you caught me. All those kids, what about them?! Do you deserve forgiveness more than the ones who left after killing theirs? All those after who were tortured on racks, starved and murdered. How many of you stopped to think what's fair? Or what about how you all tortured my wife after a plane crash!” Tears threatened to leave his eyes. “When I finally got her back after suffering you all. You killed her! Ripped apart and celebrated over her dead body! You know what would have been fair? If the end did come and wiped this town to ashes! All of you dying a slow death to fall into a deep boiling hell. Why should I help any of you?! What did I deserve to have you all hate me?! What did Lynn do?! We wanted help! We wanted to go home! Now she never will! Because of you! I should have left you all to rot! It's what you all deserve!” His hardened stare broke to look away as the tears fell. The crowd shut down, heads hung low without knowing what to do.

Marta motioned toward the crowd, shuffling them back to the tables. “Go sit.” Given less as an order to suppress their opinions, but more so to give Blake much needed space.

When they backed away Blake could feel himself crashing. Sick to his stomach on shaky legs while tears threatened to fall. His racing heart needed him to run away from the problem. “I have to go.” He spoke quick before heading to his room. Collapsing soon as the door shut behind him. Curled into a sobbing mess against the door his hands wouldn't stop shaking. crying past them. “I'm sorry Lynn.” Repeated into the night. “I’m so sorry.”

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 10

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 9 Uhtceare

Next chap: Ch: 11 Dysania

_____________________________________

~Ch: 10 Sleight~

Blake rushed with James to the barn. Record book in hand to chart down the damage done to their supplies. “How much was taken?” He wheezed along the way.

“Five rations worth.”

“That's it?” compared to what he feared, the whole barn emptied, five wasn't bad. “That's not much.”

James gave a snappy tone in mistaking Blake's for lacking concern. “No, but it will be if it keeps happening.”

“Oh, no, I know it will be. But why not more? Only five rations worth? Why not make off with at least a quarter of the barn?”

“Couldn't carry that much? Afraid they'd get caught takin' too long? Who knows with heretics.”

“They're not heretics, they're just people trying to survive.”

“Thieves then. Who need to be dealt with. Stealing food is a hangin' offense.” opening the doors for Blake to inspect inside. Pointing out the various things missing. “Jerky, pickled vegetables-”

“A few bags of fresh stuff.” Blake marked down. “You sure the kitchen staff didn't take it?”

“Positive, all's accounted for there. Nothin' extra in the kitchen.”

“Help me gather the rest of the lords. We're having an emergency meeting.” Things were going by so fast it took him a moment to gather himself in the middle of the meeting. Arguing had shot off on what to do about the heretics. Turning to topics Blake wasn't approving. “We're not killing them!” He shouted.

“We have to!” Liam shouted back.

Supported by James. “We should've dealt with 'em a long time ago. They think they can take whatever they want. This is just them testin' the boundaries I bet. If we don't act, they'll walk all over us. Stealin' more, if not everythin', next time.”

“And what after that? Right now it's food, but after they get stronger? What if they go after people like before? Picking us off who step past what rusted fences we have left?”

“Should have left those up.”

“NO!” Blake slammed a fist. “They stole food because they want to live like the rest of us. They could've taken a whole lot more than five rations. Could've taken half the barn in the night, but they didn't. They used restraint in how much they took. They're not heretics. They're survivors that escaped Knoths iron fist and had no direction to go. Or any sort of outside help that could've led them to safety. I'm not going to be the one who executes them after fighting so hard for survival.” He looked at the others at the table. John looked like he wanted to say something, but shrunk from the table over all the yelling. Mathew looked about the same in the crumbling discussion.

Liam huffed. “Still, something has to be done. If you don't then the rest of us will.”

Marta crushing anymore thought of that. “Step out of line and see what happens.”

“Marta.” Blake warned in name. She gave him a glance then looked away, mumbling verses again. He didn't want her shutting things down, even if they weren't in his favor. That would only breed fear and hatred toward him and keep people silent instead of expressing their problems. “Me and Marta will discuss what to do. I won't kill them, but I won't let them keep stealing from us. The rest of you can leave until I think of something.” Waiting until the hall was cleared.

“Should we kill them now?”

“... No. …” If I don't make Val a target, then maybe I won't make myself one

“Should we capture them?”

“No. …”

“You wish to leave them?”

“If I could-” Locking up at the thought of taming Val, being caught and taken to the jail. Surely her followers would attempt to break her out. The overhanging fear of if she'd escape in the night. He'd be the grand trophy soon as she got out. Waking to the screams of people her and her followers slaughtered. He'd desperately run to hide in some far off corner. They'd search every crevice until they found him. The sounds of her steps approaching. Her voice coaxing him to come out. When he'd come face to face with her again forcing him down. Covered in muck and blood like down in the mines.

“Blake?” Marta's voice pulled him out of it. “You look ill.”

“Ugh, stress is all.” Swallowing his stomach. “I- ...” God, what do I do? I can't tame Val like she's some feral animal. Do I have to chain her up like one? Need to stop thinking of her like that. She can talk, she's a human being, she's not dumb. Feeling sick he hung his head low. I can't talk to her. She won't dare talk with Marta. Is there- ! His head shot up. “I need a diplomat.”

“Why not speak to her yourself? We know where they are. I can crack her if she takes a chance at you.”

“If I get her under control with a diplomat then as long as she follows the rules.” A nervous laugh escaped him. “Everything will be fine.”

The look he got from Marta showed her doubts. Her tone one that Blake hadn't heard in a long time. “She's a lustful demon who brings misery.” Oozing a viscous hatred toward the one she spoke of. “When her thirst for blood returns. She'll use you to fill her cup first.”

“... Do you want to … ?” In every other case she didn't have the spirit without Knoths reassuring preaching. When it came to Val however...

“... I was always behind her, even under Knoth and she knew it well.” Her hatred filled gaze locked onto the table. “My faith was imperfect after all. When she fled I was given the task to crush her. To prove how unfaltering my faith was … all I could hear was her unending mockery outside Temple Gate, for months. always behind. ... I knew one day I'd get my hands on her and she wouldn't receive an ounce of mercy. No matter how she begged or what pleas to God she'd scream. She knows it, and dares not tempt me whilst in reach.” Her eyes rose back to him. “… If I asked you, would you order me to kill Val?”

“No. ... Do you think I'm wrong to spare Val? Am I too soft?” Doubting himself on handling the situation.

“No. You have not led me astray yet, angel. You have kept your promise, even if I'm not joyful about it this time, for that I will always trust your lead.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Who will be your diplomat?”

“I don't know. … Has to be whoever's inside at least. They've lived within Temple Gate, but Val must trust them a lot.”

“How shall we catch them then? They've been slippin' through our grip for days now anytime one of us nears.”

“We need to draw them out a bit. First is solving the theft problem, which will help with the other. Lock it up tight for a few days then leave it unlocked with a trap set.”

“That seems too obvious.”

“Yes, but we'll starve them into it. if they're that hard for food they'll chance it even if they know full well what it is.”

“What if Val calls in a large group to raid the whole barn? She could send in someone from the outside instead of risking those closer.”

“ A huge group like that managing it through the main of Temple Gate? And out again carrying huge loads of food. I don't think she could pull that off with the roaming guard. You can see the storage barn clear from your place already.”

“Are we going to ambush them?”

“No, this will be a lot more subtle. I know banks on the outside have explosive dye packs that stain the skin. Robbers accidentally dye themselves from the trap which leads police right to them. We look for anyone who didn't show for work. Or those suddenly wearing gloves. Check their hands and we'll know immediately. I could set something up like a dye without the bursting part.”

“Out of what?”

“Pen ink for one, a lot of it. I'll need to mix it with something to keep it from drying away. Then I only need a way to spread it on the thief in the act.”

“How long 'till we set this?”

“Three days if I figure it out before then. Just long enough to force their hand before starving. In the meantime keep watching that skittish. Maybe we'll find out more as they get desperate.”

“Let's say you do get 'em marked. What if they run? We'll be outta food and your diplomat.”

“You'll be watching. I know you can catch them. Don't hurt them though.”

Having the foundation for a plan, Blake called back James and Liam. Setting out an order to gather up every lockable cabinet or chest. All food would be locked away in each aside from another lock on the barn doors. James was to watch everyone going into the barn and make sure nothing was taken without permission. Blake promised them both he had more planned, but couldn't say. And that the locks were a small measure for now to set things up. When that was said and done he went to the privacy of his room to experiment with ink and various liquids. Mixing some drops into dish soap, cooking oil, and whatever else he found in the grand hall cabinets. His experiments not delivering a satisfactory mixture that would last. He had patches of dots covering his skin that were coming off far too easily. Half were gone from all the scrub tests he was doing.

What's so annoying to remove from skin? Remembering the time he ate a pomegranate that stained his hands red for a couple days. He went out to raid the kitchen for any fruit. Finding jars of jam to be his only option he grabbed one made of black berry's. His next experimental mixture proved itself to be quite the winner. It would keep the ink alive while providing its own dreadful stain age. The annoying stickiness would provide a small bonus of annoying the thieves causing problems. He stored away his supplies for the future, wrapped in a rugged cloth that would complete the trap. It would be what delivered the dye onto the unsuspecting thieves. Dropping the cloth down might miss or not stain enough. It has to be grabbed for some reason. Wrap up a bunch of supplies they have to unravel? Trunk would be best for that, but what if they just pick it up? Double checking any failures that could occur. The barn's new security measures had prevented anymore theft. Keeping to schedule on setting the trap on the next day. No one knew exactly what the trap was. The most James knew was that they'd “accidentally” leave the barn unlocked at the end of day. In his room Blake was mixing up his sticky dye into the ragged cloth. Wearing gloves the entire time he sloshed the bucket around. The cloth itself was permanently dyed by this point.

Next day he went out, holding his record book in one hand and covered dye bucket in the other. with Marta going one way and him heading for the barn to finalize the trap. Meeting up with James as if following the usual record taking schedule.

“What are we doing?” James asked as he followed Blake into the barn.

He pulled out one locked chest to open. “We're going to take out the jars in this chest, fill it with rocks, put jars back and layer them up into this cloth wet with dye. Set it back and keep it open, everything else stays locked. When whoever comes in to steal they'll pick what's easiest to get to. They can't lift it with the added rocks so they'll have to rummage for the jars. Try to unwrap them and get dye all over their hands. With how sticky it is they might make it worse by trying to wipe it off on their clothes. They'll be covered in dye by the time they leave and anyone else who touches the jars.” He explained while helped by James emptying the chest. Large slabs of stone set as evenly as possible at the bottom. Slipping back on the gloves Blake went to cautiously fold the fabric in. James layering jars between the winding over and under folds. Anybody wanting to grab jars had to slip away the cloth or risk yanking out jars that would break.

“You know, we're basically giving this food to them.” James grunted as they moved the chest. It took extreme effort to shove it back into place. Even Marta would struggle to drag it out. A few carrying it into the rugged forest would be impossible.

“I know, at this point it's allowed. I don't want to starve them to death. Hopefully after this we can set up rationing for them too.” Grabbing the jars was what the trap hinged on to tag any thieves. A loss Blake took as natural to help feed those starving.

“You want to feed them? Why, they haven't done any work to earn it?!”

“I want to make a line of communication with them. If we can work something out then we won't have to fear them any more and they get the help they need.”

“We could just get rid of 'em. Solves our problems and they don't get to eat for free.”

“No. I'm going to help them as much as I helped everyone else.”

“You better hope they don't stab you in the back.” James warned on their way to dinner. Barn door left cracked open to bait who came by.

Blake skipped out on eating. Unable to sleep that night under all the anxiety for tomorrow morning. Carving little figures again of wolves and bears to calm his nerves. When the morning light pooled under his door he left his room to meet the lords. Noticing right away that one was missing. “Where's john?”

Mathew was quick to answer. “He's sick, s-said he might be around later.”

“… Anything important he wanted to tell me?”

“No.” Unblinking without daring a glance away from Blake's stare.

Marta jumped on before Blake could reply. “You seen anyone strange around the hunting party? Skulking around that could be spyin' for Val?”

“N-no, I don't really stay with my dad m-much after workin' the hospital.” Ignoring the fact that Marta was aggressively glaring him down. “Should I be looking? I ain't very good at spotting people. I don't think i-id know.” shaking under the pressure.

“Okay!” Blake stopped them. “… James, anything new?”

“More foods been stolen.”

Feigning surprise. “Shit, how'd that happen?”

“I think someone accidentally left the doors unlocked.”

“Well, we better double check and record what's gone. Anything important from the rest of you?” Receiving many head shakes. “Alright, dismissed. James, we'll meet you at the barn. Marta, and I need to discuss some things.” Waiting until they were alone to discuss the current unveiling. Marta's aggression unfolding in wanting to grab others she thought were traitors. “Johns a filthy traitor. Saw him fleein' the barn last night. Didn't bother to chase the snake after he headed right home. Think he expects to get the dye off before we notice. Should I interrogate Mathew?”

“See anyone else?” rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Your second shadow. I chased them, but lost ‘em down one of the alley ways.”

“Great, we'll both go talk to John, but only after we investigate the barn.”

“We should grab him now.”

“He won't want to risk his kid. Keep an eye on Mathew, but wait 'till I say.”

She mumbled a chain of frustrated verses. “As the angel asks, but that boy knows more than he lets on.”

“How do you know?”

“You can read anyone like a book if you watch 'em close enough. Even with your poor sight.”

“Hooow?”

“Each persons different. John's shoulders tense up too much when caught in a lie. Deeper you dig the more uncomfortable he gets. Starts shifting them like he slept on 'em wrong. Mathew gets too bold a stare tryin' to spare himself of guilt. Stumbling over his words like a drunk, with piled up words to buy him time to spin a story.”

“Mm, I'll take note of that.”

“He knows somethin' about that kill in the hall.”

“Do you think he did it?”

“No, not sure where his hand in it was. He did more than run right home, I'm sure of that.”

“Hm.” Save his interrogation for later. “After we interrogate John, I want you to look for anyone else who could be tagged. Then we'll look into Mathew.” Walking them out to the barn where they saw the crime scene inside. Chest shuffled from its last position, but not far. Fabric tossed aside to dye the floor. Chest covered in dark hand prints from being handled so much. All the jars filling it were long gone. “Someones definitely tagged. Me and Marta are going to visit a few we think are involved. For today, pay attention to anyone missing, look for anyone with dye on their hands or those trying to suddenly stay covered.” He told James, on the way out with Marta leading the way to johns. Blake approached the front door to knock.

John answered, partly hiding behind the door. “Sir?”

“Heard you were sick. You okay?”

His voice jitterly assured. “Oh, I'm fine.” Rubbing a shoulder with a gloved hand. “Nothing serious, must be a cold.”

“Why are you wearing gloves?”

“Oh, uh, blisters. From work” Shifting his shoulders. “The cold air doesn't help them feel any better.”

“Oh, I can help those. Let me see.”

“No need. It's not that serious. I think I'll go back to bed now. This cold-”

Marta shoved her way inside. “Sit down.” She ordered with a point to his small dining table. Scaring John into following orders. She loomed over him where he sat while Blake sat down across from him.

Blake ordered, “Let me see your hands.” Instead of asking this time.

John rubbed them together as he glanced around for some way out of this situation. Unable to run while under Marta's watch and unable to talk his way out. He slipped the gloves off to reveal skin covered by that dark reddish dye.

Blake sighed at the sight. “Stand up, we need to go talk.”

John went pale. “I know what I did was serious.” Pleading before anything else was said. “It was all me sir, please don't drag my boy into this. Don't lock him up, I swear-”

“John.” the furious look he shot him shut him up immediately. This whole time Blake had to deal with so much anxiety. That all washed away to a burning anger. “Do you realize how much shit I've been dealing with? You've been stealing food and I had to stop the hunts.” John sat in silence. Blake let out his anger in a frustrated breath. “This is serious. We need a long talk someplace private. Don't cause a scene on the way or you'll make things worse.” Getting him up to head out. Marta aggressively followed him the entire way. They stepped down into the jail where they entered a small side room. Marta stood by the door while Blake and John sat at a table.

Where to begin? Blake thought. “You need to answer honestly or else I can't help anyone here. Right now, you and your son could be jailed or banished out of Temple Gate if you refuse to cooperate.” Seeing John swallow at the threat. He took a deep breath to start the questioning. “Why were you stealing food?” He knew the answer, but this was to get confirmation from John as well as something easy to answer.

“Help feed everyone. It was easier with the foraging still high, but with everything dead 'till spring. Hunting was all that was left. They couldn't catch enough.”

“So you set up the hunting party to be robbed?”

“Yes, The meat never lasted. They were starving even before Knoths death, over half were sick or too injured to help. Their situation never improved after. Had no supplies to farm, barely a shelter or anything to survive on like Temple Gate has.”

“What else have you given them?”

“Only medication on the day you handed it out.”

“Did you set me up when we first headed for town? You didn't want me bringing Marta along.”

“NO! No, no!” He adamantly denied. Shrinking in his chair as if Marta would bash his skull in any moment now. “We were scared of what Marta would do if she found us. They had no ways to defend themselves. If I was leading, You pass by without Marta and they don't get anymore danger over their heads. When the mudslide hit I convinced James and Jacob to split up. Either they found you or Val would after I asked her for help.”

“Then why was I almost killed?!”

“That wasn't supposed to happen. Val didn't want that, It was Ayzel who did it. He still has a bone to pick with Temple Gate. Val was furious when she caught him and worried Temple Gate would come after us for harming you. The plan from there was to take you to the caves and make sure you were okay. I would've been “caught” to give you support until then. After you were better enough we would have “escaped”. That never happened after you ran. At that point nothing mattered. We were past the caves, Marta was there and she wasn't going to leave after that.”

“So Val's not after me?”

“No, she's not after anyone. Her goal matches yours - keep everyone alive. She's been struggling to keep the clan on their feet.”

“A while ago we caught her and a random member of hers wandering some rotten area. The area south east, close to the cave. She was standing by until we let that one go. What was that about?”

“She'd mention a few times about worrying what Temple Gate was planning. Wanting to keep post at night to feel assured that no attack was coming. One talk we had I noticed she wasn't as paranoid as before. Sounds like what you did helped.”

“Great, is Mathew helping her too?”

“... Yes, but not nearly as much as me. If we were caught I didn't want him blamed. Please don't exile him for this. Please.”

“I won't if you help me with Val.”

John froze at what that could mean. “I- how?”

“I want to make you a diplomat. You'll pass messages between me and Val on how to handle issues between us. I can help them, but they're some conditions. She can't keep stealing food, that has to stop or else. If she agrees to that I'll give them rations, but I need to know the exact number of how many of you there are.” I'll also know officially how many of them there are against us.

“I-I don't know if I-”

“If you can't convince her to agree, then don't bother coming back.” His fierce gaze pierced John's soul. “Stealing food is serious and I won't allow you to stay here. Forcing me to worry about what you'll do next. Putting everyone at risk. Your son can stay, but he'll be demoted and watched more carefully. I'm going to let you go today. Starting now, you have three days to work it out with her or leave. Got that?”

“Yes sir.”

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

0 notes

reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 9

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 8 Kings men

Next chap: Ch: 10 Sleight

_____________________________________

~Ch: 9 Uhtceare~

The big day had finally come for those quarantined. Mathews mother and a few of the worst cases were tested by the doctor in town and cleared of their disease. As well as given various medications to help the long term effects. Mainly painkillers with a few helping damaged organs function. Temple Gate's medical team escorting everybody to the new block houses. A schedule made on who needed what meds with a list of visits for normal caring. Leading the tasks was Mathew who now ran the makeshift hospital near the area. Focusing solely on the task at hand he overlooked the transition.

The Healed covered still in various wraps to hide their scaring. Most shown of them were their hands or eyes. Blake hoped the covers would lessen over time after they became more comfortable in their skins. Seeing mainly wraps of white with a few colors spread out. Reaching the new houses he had them spread out to pick one. Around 2-3 people per house got everyone their own bedroom to call their own. Some went off to be fully welcomed in by their families still around. He gave them time to settle in with all the things they had, that not being much. Old photos beside small trinkets they hung on walls. By afternoon it was time to introduce the healed to the lords. Having various other physical conditions, jobs were carefully selected. Some had missing limbs, partly blind, lacking fingers, but were healthy otherwise. Assigned under each lord they were given less heavy tasks. A huge chunk were given to Mathew, who only had five helpers before without Blake. Jobs under James involved sorting good crops from the bad. Plucking seeds for the next harvest and packing the storage barn full. Pickling was picked up faster than before with the new hands. Further helped along was the processing of meat for jerky. Jars were sitting full on the shelves after being packed to the top. The remaining few he put on kitchen duty. Usually when the hunting party or the farmers returned from the fields they'd start cooking for everyone, but would be exhausted by then. With the new team breakfast alongside dinner could be made on the stable food gathering. Meals made ready by the time everyone got off work.

The transition went about as expected. Liam as well as many others refused to eat at the hall anymore. Blake couldn't force them to attend meals there, so he allowed them to take rations for personal cooking at home. Some refused to work at all with them nearby. After a warning talk from Blake that if “You don't work, then you don't eat.” They settled down. If not from his words they did by Marta eyeing them down. Others were still nervous about disease and avoided them, but didn't start trouble. Some further talking along with the eldest followers shutting them down, quieted those still snapping. Blake refused to separate the healed away from Temple Gate. Doing so would breed ideas of them being lesser and deserving of neglect. He had to snuff out a few superstitious ideas that their “disease of the soul” would spread worse. Giving out constant reassurances that, that wasn't the case. They'd heal and as long as they followed his instructions they'd be fine. The current townies would have to get used to it and hopefully they wouldn't be so nervous about working with them over time.

Blake checked on other areas. The new jail was on its way to being finished. Its main structure more solid than what it once had. The added walls of solid cement added on to supporting the middle. The front had four doors to pass. Two were strong iron gates with locks that required keys. The other two were thick wooden doors that would need a key or a battering ram to get by. Plumbing set up for each cell to have a working toilet and a couple beds with only a solid block of concrete for their base. The whole place strongly lit up by lights down the main hall. Large enough to avoid anyone reaching out for a grab. After four cells there was another key required iron barred gate. Separating eight cells into zones of four each. If there was a break out they could contain sides a bit easier. Meeting up with Liam to see the overall town improvements. Houses rebuilt around the ashes of old homes. Others had their foundations reinforced. Rickety shacks turned into some sort of a house. Plumbing extended upon, alongside the power grid. Nothing the generator couldn't handle long as it had a supply of fuel. His worries of money returning to itch his brain. He'd been thinking about working on some sort of farmers market. Try to sell their goods as from some humble religious community. If they could afford to sell extra it would get some money flowing in.

But that would have to wait with the approach of Blake's next fear. Its first warning came early in the night to cover Temple Gate in a layer of white. Snow was beginning to fall as winter swept in over the mountains. Cold rain replaced by clattering hail that Blake hated more than the snow. Crops would be harvested before the bitter cold killed the plants. Enough to last them if they held close to rationing. He lost count of how many times he checked the barn for how much food they had. Headaches drilled into his skull from the sight of cans he recounted in the pantry. After a while of this he felt confident enough everything would be fine until spring. While all that was going on Blake didn't need to keep track of Val anymore. Her visits having stopped a couple days ago. Bored of watching, maybe she figured out what she wanted, or preoccupied by the harsh winter Blake wasn't sure.

One day he returned to the hall to take a break from the cold. Amused by the sight of Marta passing by in her outfit more worthy of the winter. A thicker cloak mostly intact from its rare use. Aside from the very bottom edge gone ragged from being dragged across the ground. A black fabric with a golden design wrapped around her neck to partly cover her mouth. Thicker leather bindings, stained mostly red, reaching from her elbows to her palms. From what he could see past the robes collar and ragged edge end. She only wore another deep blue dress underneath it all. Keeping it tightly down by a long length of prayer beads around her waist, same as before. He asked her about it once. Wondering if she didn't bother because nothing was in her size. She clarified that, that wasn't the reason. Preferring them over anything restrictive like pants. She felt the same way for shoes. Hating their weight and the loss of traction across the rugged earth. Using a furred leather binding instead to keep frostbite away. wrapped around almost up to her knees. He didn't think it was the best way to face the cold, but she must've done it this way for years. Long as she stayed okay he had no reason to push her into a new wardrobe.

He took a breath and hacked on the cold air stinging his throat. “Dammit.” facing down to cover his mouth until he was done. Facing back up toward the window. Squinting his eyes at the blinding white land out the window. Snow used to be his favorite thing, reminded him of Christmas. He had to look away from the windows showing that untouched white. It reminded him too much now of Jessica's death. It had snowed that day, leaving the school's surroundings a clean white seeable under the night-lit lamps. It haunted him whether he was awake or dreaming. What could I have done? Remembering back to the last conversation him and that priest had right after.

Entering through the door Blake saw her dead body at the bottom of the stairs. Blake didn't believe she was dead, at first, giving Jess a kiss on the cheek and hugged her cold body close. Nearby, Father Loutermilch, their priest music teacher stood at the top of the stairs. Dressed in an all black suit, balding with a vibrant red birth mark above his right eye. A white collar around his neck paired by a dangling wooden cross, a false holiness he hid behind. “I don't know what you think you saw.” Were his first words.

Blake had to choke down his sobs. Questions raced through his head, but none were important in comparison to. “We have to help her!”

“It was an accident. She ran away and slipped on the stairs. We can't help her, but we need to help each other. You shouldn't have been here. … Doing what you two were doing. You need to make this right.”

“But, we-” unable to defend himself before being cut off.

“You'll be in trouble too when the police look into this. They won't believe you that it was an accident. Someone has to take the blame for this. God sees your sins and so will they. We have to hide her.”

“But-”

“They'll say you were jealous!” His tone building in aggression. “Watching her flaunt around all the other boys! It's her fault! You were frightened! We have to make this right. Do you want your parents to find out?!”

“N-no.” he spoke through his tears falling uncontrollably onto Jess.

“Good, you know how troubled she was. It's her fault, trust me, we- ... We need it to look like she did it. Nobody can be blamed then. … Pick her up.” He remembered moving Jessica's limp body. Loutermilch stringing her up above the stairs using a rope he grabbed. Following the monster into a nearby classroom he stood to the side. The priest repeatedly wrote note after note of Jess's fake suicide on the board. Yelling and erasing the messages repeatedly when his rage boiled over to punching the board in anger. Between his growing frustration and Jess's dead body eyeing him down from the small door window, Blake made an offer. To write that suicide message on the board for him.

“Oh, could you? I couldn't force you to do such a thing.”

“I-i can. I've seen her write.”

“How generous of you.” That monster's sickly sweet voice praised.

Blake knew it wasn't right, worsening with each letter he chalked. Mimicking Jess's lettering from the years he'd seen her write. Swallowing his stomach to breath out his nerves to steady his shaking hand. Giving the suicide note its calm steady message to be read tomorrow. He wanted to scratch it out, run away from the monster staring down at him. He couldn't make him angry after he saw what he saw. If he did what he was told he could leave without becoming a target.

All he wanted was to go home. Forget this night that haunted his dreams in nightmares. It was a mistake to think the one he helped would help him.

“My son, nothings wrong with us. It's how God made us and this was his plan all along. He wanted her to die.” Sickened by the priest patting his back “You're not evil, you're only confused.” a common reassurance when questioned if what they were doing was wrong. He was stalked by that man through the rest of his school years. Reminding Blake of their accident. That it was a secret they would both take to their graves. The priest was aggressively desperate to keep it that way. Calling him a sick pervert for giving Jessica that kiss on her dead body. That he saw how Blake stared at girls. Delving into claims of Blake doing sick things in private. Reminding Blake with that soft sung tune even in the bathrooms. “Be careful little eyes what you see.”.

Then another tragedy, his parents' deaths. His mother was killed in an accident on the highway. His father stopped living, body wasting away to sudden illness, and soon followed her. Blake was left feeling hollow and lost. His teachers noticed as his grades tanked, he stopped going to activities, this made him easy pray without knowing. It started small. A hand placed on his shoulder to a pat on the back. Mixed in by insults laced by overly sweet words. “You're disgusting for thinking of girls that way. God's horrified and sees them all. How revolting you are, but we're all the same. People won't admit that. As long as we confess, it's alright to fulfill these feelings. I'll guide you through them.”

He thought he deserved it after causing Jess's accident. Was this what God wanted? None of it felt right, the messages weren't lining up with what was being taught. Wasn't he confessing like he was told? Why wasn't he happy anymore? Did God hate him? Why was nothing getting better? Didn't he do the right thing? Wasn't it an accident?

Blake found his assurance was when he found the tapes. He was alone, working on the band stage in the auditorium for an upcoming musical assembly to sing for the visiting mayor. Chairs were placed, speakers set up alongside their equipment. One speaker wasn't operating correctly after being attached to the main controls. Repeated tests had him figuring out the cause. “Must be a loose wire. I'll have to follow the line under the stage.”

Nervous about the under-stage with how much wiring was underneath. That he'd break something or that it would shock him in all the entanglement. He reached the cords end without much trouble. While connecting it, his elbow bumped into a beam. A piece shifted forward that scared him into thinking he broke it. Inspecting closer, it was a small rectangle carved out of it and placed back to hide a hole. That's where he found them hidden alongside a recorder.

A vocal recording of the fathers dark thoughts hidden under the musical stage between the wiring. His obsession with Jessica, the sexual thoughts. “She was so ripe with possibility. So resilient, smiling and flirting. Never even aware of the power she had.” His mocking of getting away with it. “You saw what she was. You knew the sin rested on her shoulders as much as on my own. You took her, when I could not. You killed her, and I never told a soul. I've kept your secret, our secret. Thank you. Thank you, you never told a soul. You let the small sorrow of her suicide wash over the unacceptable tragedy of her murder.”

Blake had a breakdown that he managed to keep hidden for the most part. All his suspicions were confirmed by that priest's very own mouth. With his parents having died less than half a month ago. He was lost in the system until his uncle finally got custody of him. Loutermilch saw something shift in Blake and his little taunts increased into full blown threats. The hands set on his shoulders were clawing in to leave dark reminders. On Blake's heels whenever he had free time on campus. It was becoming too much and some deep instinct inside told him he was being hunted next. He didn't dare be trapped alone with that priest. His fear ever increasing as the father began asking a unsettling question. “You're falling behind, do you need to stay after school?” A wide set overly friendly grin on his face.

Seeing Blake look at him in fear only riled him up all the more. Turning bolder he was no longer sticking to just threats. Making disgusting gestures that Blake turned away from to ignore. One night it all came to a head just how much of a target he had become under The Fathers eye. He was called privately to his office after school one day. Greeted after opening the door, he was waved to come inside. “You've gotten so far behind in your classes. I'm very concerned for you, son.”

Blake stood in the doorway, silently refusing to enter. “I'm fine.” He swallowed heavily.

“You sure? Nothing you want to talk about?”

“...”

“Mm, well … I think you need some extra study time with me. We'll get you caught up. It'll be painless, I promise.” That wide smile grew across his face.

It made Blake want to vomit. He was sure his quick thinking saved him in that moment. “Sorry, been busy, I guess. My uncle wants me to help on the farm all the time. He's waiting outside to get us both to work.” He lied, neither of them ever worked on a farm. He knew classmates who did though, they always complained about this exact thing. Taking in a breath when the priest's smile dropped.

“Oh.” his tone oozed disappointment. Staring down at Blake then looking off to the side for a moment. Looking back to Blake through a cold gaze. “You still need to catch up on things.” Speaking with annoyance the next. “Maybe I'll… Have the principal talk with your uncle about that.”

Blake didn't understand it in the moment. Assuming that the priest was angry he got out of his grasp. “... Okay.” was all he could say. Stomach threatening to bring up his lunch while his heart pounded. Wanting to run, but not make himself look suspicious enough to be interrogated out of his only escape of a lie. Unknowingly staring at the man for far too long.

“What? You know It's impolite to stare.” That disgusting smile returned. “Want to give me a kiss?” Winking at the boy with a stick of his tongue at him.

Blake looked away, ready to cry. Heart stilling that he may have unintentionally given the priest a reason to do something.

“You may go.” He dismissed, unenthusiastic about it.

Blake held himself together enough to walk away. Then, when out of sight, he fled down the halls to escape. Shaking while tears built in his eyes he managed to stay running. Faltering at the sound of footsteps catching up behind him. He looked back and saw that bastard coming after him. Stumbling himself from what Blake ran into, the principle.

“Whoa there. What's wrong with you?”

Blake couldn't find the air to speak. Asthma along with pure terror shutting him down. Worsened by a particular hand gripping his left shoulder. He tried flinching away from it. Stopped by being clawed into to stay still.

“We just had a talk about him staying after school. I mentioned I would talk to you about it and he's upset.” the bastard excused.

“Ah.” the principle seemed to understand. “Well Blake, since the uh- tragedy with Jess … Then the case with your parents. We understand you’re upset and need some time, but you still have to keep up with your work. We don't want you to fail a grade and be held back from graduation.”

Blake had completely shut down from the conversation. Mind screaming at him to gnaw his own arm off to get away. Attention cutting forward to a dreaded question he heard from the bastard.

“Have you seen his uncle?”

“I have. We already talked about his grades and we scheduled a time to talk more. Said he was in a hurry to return to work.”

“Mm … Good.” Not happy at the information.

Blake managed in a breath from the saving misunderstanding. They talked earlier around lunch, but it sounded far more recent.

“Can I have Blake for tomorrow after school? I really think he needs attention sooner rather than later.”

“I'm sure his uncle wouldn't disagree.” Looking down at the young boy. “You'll be staying tomorrow with Father Loutermilch to catch up. I'll make sure your uncle knows. When you get home, do your homework. We don't want more piling on, do we?”

Blake shook his head. Running soon as the principal dismissed him to talk further with the creep, forced to let his prey get away. Thinking about it now, why he stuck to talks over emails. those letters he saw of teachers discussing Jessica's problems at home. Loutermilch's suggestions of keeping her for study. A paper trail all too similar he didn't want to leave behind a second time.

He remembered the next morning clear as ever. waffles left untouched on the breakfast table for him after coming down stairs. Morning sun shining through the windows while birds chirped cheerfully from the trees. His uncle angry over a call from the principal. Scolding Blake soon as he was spotted. “Your grades are so far behind they're about to put you in summer school. Today and every other day you're staying after with Father Loutermilch to catch up!”

Hearing that, the thought of what was going to happen, his world imploded into a void. He collapsed down into a sobbing shivering mess on the floor. Heart racing inside the clenched cage that was his ribs. “I can't! I can't! I can't!” choking on his sobs while tears stung his eyes. “I'll die there! I'll die like Jess! Don't make me go!” Begging not to go back to the point his uncle was stunned by his severe reaction.

All the anger he had a moment ago dissolved into worrying. “Hey, ... Buddy.” Comforting him the best he could with pats on the back and a hug. “You can stay home, okay?” rubbing his shoulder to help him stop crying. “Don't worry about going back either. We'll figure something else out for school. Why don't you head back upstairs for bed, okay?” Helping him up to walk him back to his room. He wouldn't have made it otherwise he was shaking so bad. Wiping the tears away until his sleeve was soaked. Breaking down at the breakfast table was the best that could have happened to him.

His uncle took him out of school for a while. He couldn't afford therapy sessions and so they weren't followed up on. Assuming it was depression after his friends suicide and the death of both parents happened so close. He made sure Blake got out of the house in some way. Cheering him up through fishing trips out of town. Bringing him to Lynn's house after school ended for her. Blake joined up with Lynn one summer to explore the workings of an on site news crew. Some part of a special career day between the school and the mayor wanting to look good before elections. It was the starting spark of him and Lynn's future career. Messing with the camera equipment he took a liking to while Lynn became the face for it.

After a while his uncle could only offer for him to join a new school. A fresh start away from all the bad memories. Blake happily agreed, a fresh start far away from that monster. I should have spoken up then. Would anybody have believed me? Lynn would, but everyone else adored Father Loutermilch so much. He had the school heads under his thumb. All those emails to hold Jessica back were proof of that. I was her best friend and I couldn't- Blake rubbed the building tears from his eyes. A coughing fit brushing the rest away under his stinging breath. Goddamn, hope I don't have pneumonia. That shitty roof leak is gonna be the death of me. It started as a drip in the corner of his room. Developing a dark spot on his roof then other spots developed the same problem. He had three buckets collecting the pouring water that he tossed out in the morning. If Liam's done with everything else I can have him check the roof. Back to his leaky room he grabbed the record journal. Scanning through the numbers to make sure he had everything correct. Returning to gather the new numbers from the barn.

Counting every jar of jerky, bag of seed, and everything pickled. Smiling at the jump in numbers showing how much the new hands were helping. Looks like we'll make it to summer with this. Maybe Liam should make a second storage barn. Meeting up with John to gain today's meat numbers. His tired face not boding well for the hunt. Fidgeting with his clothes to rub the back of his head before Blake could even ask what happened. “We caught a deer, but ...” He started. “The Voltaire took it from us.”

“How? What happened exactly.”

“It was quick. We killed the deer and right as we were about to drag it back they surrounded us and demanded the deer. We didn't want to fight, so we let it go. They left with it and we got away.”

“Mm, that's best. We can always get more deer. You ran into them away from the eastern mountain?”

“Yes sir. They honestly didn't look too good. I think they needed the meat more than we did.”

“it's all they have up there now. Snows going to kill or cover everything else. Head more west and maybe we can avoid them spreading out.”

“Yes sir.”

can't have that being a problem. Was that what Val was watching for? She couldn't get the schedules of the guards down, but she could for everyone else. Mixing up the hunting areas should give a fix for now. No need to change what everyone else's doing since they don't leave Temple Gate. Marking a crossed out zero beside meat in his records. Guess we're having a vegetarian dinner tonight. Working in his room to copy the records across his books. Pinning the incident to his roughly made calendar. Fearing if it meant anything while he picked up his dinner. Excited to see the healed eating with the other townspeople. The tables more packed than before without an empty spot in between. Some eating off to the side with only a chair to sit on. Might need more tables. He thought when handed A bowl of vegetable soup with a side of fresh bread. Taking it to Eat in his room next to the dripping leak plunking into an empty bucket. Need to talk to Liam about that. I'll do it tomorrow. Rubbing his tired face after dinner to collapse into bed. Forgetting all about that by his morning meeting with the lords. Checking on how the healed were adapting with Mathew. Writing down the medicine supply to make sure everything was passed out. How long until they needed a resupply. “Everyone doing okay?”

“Shuffled a couple jobs, but other than that it's been smooth. Everyone's been taking their meds on time.”

“What about with the rest of the town?”

“Some words under their breath or actin' skittish, nothin’ much.” glancing at Liam whose opinion Blake already knew.

“Good, let me know if anything else comes up.” Looking to James about how the farms were doing. “Got the harvest in, when can we plant again?”

“Soon as the snow lets up and this cold passes. 'bout February if that all happens. March at the latest or else we'll be stuck waitin'.”

“Good.” Blake noted in his book. Turning to John next. “In case Val figured out your hunting trail I want you to mix up where you go. Today go westward, from there pick a different spot away from your usual.”

“Yes sir.”

“Why don't we just rid ourselves of Val?” Liam stated more then asked. “He's best left dead so no one else has to suffer by his hands.”

“She's as much a victim as everyone else here. She fled to try surviving without any support. You all hunted her and she hunted you the same. I call it an even fight, but now we're changing things. Either it evens out, or I'll deal with her then.”

“Drop that crap about him being a her. He was born a he and that's all he'll ever be.”

James scoffed. “Shut up, if that's your biggest problem around here then go complain to the graves. Least they can't hear your whinin' no more.”

Marta mumbling. “Hope so, for their sake.” Getting a chuckle out of James.

Liam crumpled low in his seat. “Ridiculous.” he huffed then muttered more complaints under his breath.

Moving things along. “Thanks James.” Blake gathered notes and numbers from the rest of the lords. Ending the meeting to proceed through the rest of their day. Blake returned to them at the end of the day to collect records. Heart sinking at seeing John return just as defeated as yesterday. “Did It happen again?”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” he mumbled. “Okay, uh-” Maybe Val's still watching and follows him right as he leaves Temple Gate. “Tomorrow I want you and the hunting group to leave a couple hours earlier. Don't shine any lights, I want you to sneak out basically. Maybe she won't see you leave if she's watching that closely.”

John swallowed. “I'll try sir, but what if we're found again?” Looking to Blake full of exhaustion mixed anxiety.

“... We'll figure it out.” attempting to awkwardly cheer him up. “We could all turn into vegetarians until spring,” He smiled. Getting a small smile out of John before they separated. Blake marked another zero with a slash through it for the second time. While picking up dinner he noticed Marta standing in the corner watching over the room. He thought to ask her why. Was someone causing trouble? About to find out when she approached him.

“Have time to talk?”

“I do. Let's go to my room.” Taking his dinner with them.

When the door was shut and both were seated, Marta got to the point. “There is an old concern, if you remember. A traitor being within the town that helped prisoners escape. I'm sure they're still here helping Val gain what she needs. No doubt they've been spillin' what we're doing all hours of the day. Where you go, what I do and where John hunts.”

How could I forget that? … Because it wasn't important before. Now I have to fix this before it gets worse. “Yes, I remember now. Got any leads on who?”

“No, I came to ask if you suspected anybody. Now it's just what you want to do from here.”

“All I got is to scope around the hunting party for anyone watching. If anybody will notice a standout, it's you.”

She dipped her head. Standing to leave with a passing “Goodnight.” Out the door.

The next day came, Blake headed out with his journal in hand. Taking paranoid glances around him at anyone around. Could it be them? No. Them? No. Ugh, Marta will have better luck then me. Everyone appeared the same to him. Without any past knowledge of who was old, new or not supposed to be there at all. Passing a few walking around toward their job sites. Others relaxed under the shade of a tree or their porches. More watching others on their way around town. Nothing in particular was standing out to him. Arriving at the barn he took the food numbers. Outside he met with James, who wanted to go over with him about the crops set for planting in spring and where. Catching a gathering of all the farmers forming a large ring of a crowd. A mix of healed and longer set townies. Blake always liked seeing the two sides mixing. Scribbling down a mini map in his journal he listened to the breakdown for a couple hours. Attention drifting when things got too monotone he caught others doing the same. Fidgeting with sleeves, looking in various directions. Another looked away when he looked toward them. While others shuffled around to get more room between them all. Tuning back in he took notes for another hour until they were done. Tossing in his two cents on what to plant in large amounts. Equally wanting a large variety of foods to reach the table eventually. Writing down the finalized plantation set before moving on.

Heading along the dirt roads he gazed at the passing scenery. Aged buildings, the hall in the distance as well as the burnt church bell tower. Stumbling over his feet by a blur out of the corner of his eye. His mind first thought they were a stack of barrels. a glimpse of someone behind a building who swiftly disappeared when he looked toward them, far too slow to catch any identifying details. Blake stared their way for a while in thinking they'd reappear. When they didn't he hummed out a long breath continuing on. Brushed off as his paranoia acting up and that it was just someone going about their day.

He visited Mathew to go over his patients, then off to see Liam about reconstruction projects. On his way to dinner he caught another glance of black coat tails disappearing from his view. Doing as before to stop and wait for another appearance. Left annoyed when none came his jaw tensed. They were far too careful to not be seen. Are they following me? Blake urged himself to brush it off. Can't see much if they run away all the time. Maybe they're just too skittish to talk? But that didn't sit right in his mind. Walking slower than before with many glances over his shoulders. Either they were gone or far too good at hiding as he didn't see them again before reaching the hall. Picking up his dinner he looked over the full room. Many were dressed in a similar black between the old townies and the healed. Some grays had him think back on if it was black or a dark gray. Maybe navy? This isn't helping me. Searching for Marta on having anything to offer, but she was missing. Hope she found something.

The next day came and went, another zero with a slash. Blake was ready to tear his hair out. How close is Val watching this place? She must have her minions sitting out in shifts. Instructing John to sneak out another way from Temple Gate that had many hills to block the sight of them. Weary and stressed, John agreed to the idea. Passing it on to the rest of the hunting group to be done early the next morning. Blake himself was worried the plan was foiled before it was finished even being spoken. That dark figure lining the edge of his vision making repeated appearances. His note taking hadn't been as productive as usual. One time he tripped over his own shoelaces he was so distracted by the stalker. Every time he whipped his head around he only saw a disappearing black figure. Rubbing his face he blinked away the bleariness that never left after he woke. Focusing extra on the notes he did take to write them coherently. That figure leaning into his view he snapped to them, choking on his spit at the deeper details he caught. Dark fabric, blood and many arms that stabbed a pain into his chest. Blurring away to nothingness then appearing again in a sudden shift out of view.

Blake's chest tightened until he wheezed out every breath. What did I see? That wasn't real. Rubbing his eyes of the blur swarming his vision. He's not here. Acid welled up at the back of his throat. Is he? Tracking him all these years to finally have the chance to- NO, no! he's not here. swallowing his stomach back down he rushed off again. Heading out toward the fields between the graves he settled his breathing. Nothing to hide around out here. Scanning the town's edge for the figure known for slipping a moment faster then his gaze could capture. Eyes drifting down to the field around him. Tall grass shifting in waves under the flowing wind. The dirt underneath him softly mixed with sand closer to the river reflecting the lowering sun. Tempted to lay down and disappear in the field for a while. He sighed, tapping his book to his chest between looking back at the town. Dreading what was following him to what would happen when it caught up. As expected he caught flashes of the figure all throughout the rest of his day. The nerve wracked feeling of being hunted increased. Blake swore he heard the first few hums of that tune. Be careful little eyes- His head would whip around to confront what he swore was there. Sometimes he saw the stalker disappear, while most times there was nothing at all.

Between his heart skipping beats, wheezing returning and his jaw tensing hard enough to crack a tooth. The paralyzing fear was twisting down into his gut that felt like a burning furnace. A furious anger ready to explode on the one he caught doing this. Unable to flee he froze painfully tense in the middle of a cross section away from anyone else. Waiting aggressively patiently as a prowling animal ready to pounce. Listening to the wind while observing everything in front of him to pass the time. Quiet houses whose owners were out for work. The setting sun tinted everything in a deep red. It burned his eyes in the way he faced, but he didn't want to ruin what he set by flinching away. Time stretched on as his only guess to its passing was the sun falling lower. No longer burned from the red he whirled around without warning to face what was behind him. They weren't quick enough this time, sight of a lot of dark cloth disappeared around a corner. Blake shot after them, determined not to let them get away. Around the corner he ran right into a cloud of dust, their tracks stirred up. That turned into the only thing he kept up with.

Corner after corner he turned to chase another trail of dust. Inhaling it ruined what little chance he had. Hacking slowed him down to forcibly lean against a wall. “Dammit!” He hacked through multiple curses. Trotting further in a sad attempt of tracking he pushed himself again at the sound of steps nearby. Recognizing a little late who they belonged to right before seeing their face. She faced him, equally as annoyed as he was. Letting him catch his breath to speak first.

“You see someone in black? … Other than you?”

Marta let out a hum. “Did a few times. Tried catching them just now.”

“Well, that's a relief. I wasn't sure if they were real for a while.”

“They've been following you all day.”

“I know. Seen what they look like?”

“Nothin' but black robes. Haven't gotten the chance to get a closer look with 'em, bein' so flighty.”

“Great.” tapping his book to his head. “Instead of chasing lets- … Go to the hall, first.” Glancing around. Outside having eyes all around he couldn't take the chance. Heading there with Marta not far behind. In the privacy of his room he continued on his plan. “Let's just observe. They have to stop following me eventually and go somewhere to sleep.”

“What if they start getting too close?”

“Then step in, but it's too easy to see one of us coming and bolt. A mob hunting around would scare them off entirely. I don't want that, I want to catch them and figure what all this is about. Whether they're plotting something bigger than stealing to survive.”

“Mm, so I watch from afar for what?”

“Figure out who they are or at least where they go. Maybe there's more than one sneaking around.” Breaking down what he wanted her to look out for. Setting everything up for tomorrow with the hopes of better news to come.

Another day came and went, another zero with a slash. His second shadow made their appearance throughout the day. Blake couldn't think of any other option. Should cancel hunting for now. No meat, but I cant keep risking the hunting party crossing paths with the Voltaire. His next morning meeting with the lords had him announce the decision. “With the aggression of the Voltaire stalking the hunting party. I've decided to hold off on hunting entirely to keep the group safe.”

John was taken aback at the news. “You can't do that! What about feeding everyone? Are we really canceling all hunting in the most important season for it to be done?! We can't grow anything and we'll be eating through our reserve in a couple weeks.”

Liam agreed. “You're letting him walk all over us. When's enough going to be enough? Kill 'em already.”

John softened up on his stance. “We don't need to kill her, they're stealing because they're starving. Are we really going to kill people trying to survive?”

“Yes. We have to think of ourselves. Finish them off while they're down!”

“No, we won't.” Blake stated. “No ones gotten hurt, but we haven't caught anything in days and the Voltaire are clearly keeping too close a track on you. I rather not risk your lives while I can just buy more food if it gets bad enough. I've counted again and again and we have enough to last us well to next summer if we stick to the rations.”

“Let me go out again. If I catch smaller things instead of deer we would-”

“No.” Blake stopped him. “Hunting will be held back until the snow melts in spring. When foraging can be done, maybe the Voltaire will leave us alone.”

Marta bringing up a serious possibility. “what if they don't?”

“We'll have to deal with them more aggressively. We can't cancel hunting for forever.” Writing down a note of no hunting beside the future meat logs. Disappointed how things were going, but he wasn't willing to be aggressive yet. “John, you can work with who you want until hunting picks up again.” Dismissing the lords to continue on with their day. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't let Val walk all over me like that. Do I send John out with some guards? What if a fight breaks out and someone dies? Should I catch them and toss them in jail? At that point I'm still feeding them, but at least they'll be controlled.

Book in hand he followed his usual schedule of counting supplies. As expected the numbers slowed to a stop. No more harvest was left to gather. Seeds were all collected and set aside along with the prepped food. From here on the food numbers would naturally decrease. Noting in his book of the day this plateau hit to remember it for next year. Heh, I already see myself staying here for next winter. Laughing on the inside about all he was leaving behind so easily. Did it really matter so little to him? His apartment, his car, his possessions. Soon those would be gone after none of his bills were paid. Photos of me and Lynn. Should I go back for those? Our wedding album. Heart aching at the thought of seeing the pictures. Knowing he'd never have her back. Maybe that's why he didn't keep the photo of them with Jessica. He hated keeping depressing keepsakes, preferring to look forward in moving on. It's what helped him for the most part after leaving his old school.

That night dreams of Lynn's rotten corpse mocked him for wanting to forget. “You did want me dead. Why else would you abandon everything? You never cared. What did those wedding vows mean to you? Go home, stop wasting time here with these psychos. Stop helping them, let them die. Let the heretics run this place into a painful grave.” In those dreams he took what verbal beat down she came to deliver. Each morning he woke it was harder and harder to rise. His only relief was that nothing much was happening. Two days had passed since he called off the hunt and sent Marta spying. The Voltaire hadn't made a move in days since the hunting was halted. whoever the skittish one was, wasn't doing anything but disappearing. Marta still couldn't confirm who it was or even where they went. It made them both feel like a ghost was haunting Blake.

Blake woke recently to a sharp pain in his stomach. Flipping in bed to grab one of the nearby leak buckets. He gagged a few times, but his empty stomach couldn't bring anything up. He shook and slumped in bed under the covers. It was the morning of the third day and he didn't want to leave. Uncontrollably shaking he tensed at the sound of steps passing his door. Wanting to run away, but had nowhere to go. Last thing he wanted was to see people. Voices made him feel worse than the steps. Were they talking about him, or something else? Were they going to knock on his door? Idea of hiding under the bed offered some relief. Through careful deep breaths his racing heart slowed to a normal pace. His wheezed hyperventilating lifted enough to slow his shivering. At his desk he tapped the top while his leg jittered. Glancing between his notebook and the map. Little marks of Val's last appearances not helping, he ripped them off.

“God, what do I do?” He groaned, rubbing his face. Already regretting the stopping of hunting for meat. How many vegetarian dishes could he stand until spring. Meat was pretty important to keep everyone healthy after so badly being starved. Give the orders and rush everyone to the mines to have the Voltaire killed? Set out traps to catch them all. Keep them locked away in cages to be forgotten. I don't think anyone would oppose me. They'd be celebrating their capture and cheering for their deaths.

They deserve it. ... Don't they?

… But what have they done that Temple Gate hasn't?

Murder, cannibalism, torture, everything else. Only difference was if they did it for God or the Antichrist. Rubbing his head. “Ugh, what do I do? What to do?”

A knock at the door startled him out of his chair. Calming himself before answering he paced in a loop back around to his door. Expecting Marta with some important news.

Instead he was met by James holding a serious face. “Foods been stolen.”

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 8

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 7 Badlands

Next chap: Ch: 9 Uhtceare

_____________________________________

~Ch: 8 Kings men~

After hours of hard searching he was satisfied that everyone was taken care of. Leaving the quarantine he was greeted by Marta waiting alongside a small group. Those looking for family in the hopes they survived long enough alongside volunteers to care for the ill. Joyed to see a team willing since he wasn't going to force people to do it. Forcing would only fester contempt to those taken care of. A fleck of gold on the forest edge let Blake know that Val was still there waiting for him as the rest were. Moving the ill along he eventually saw her leave.

Marta spoke up about her on their way to the new quarantine. “He's been standing out there since you went in. I worry he aims to have your head if given the chance. Should we pick them off before they become trouble?”

“I'm not going to hunt people down because of fear for what they may do.” Can't say much for that when I'm too afraid to go after them. “I don't even know what Val wants. If she wanted to take over Temple Gate I would think she'd have tried earlier. You're more of a block to that then I am.”

“I trust that even he would fear the angel of death. Yet, to be the one to strike down such an angel would earn a mighty title. Should we really wait 'till the day they strike? Everyday they settle themselves deeper into those mountains. Festering up there like ticks feasting on our blood. It'll be harder to pry them out when we finally do act.”

Calming himself from getting too sick by the conversation he took some deep breaths. “How about we train the guard to be better prepared for that day? What have you started them on so far?”

“Basics they've learned, tracking trails for the capture. Aggravatingly slow to handle the threat by the time they do catch up. they keep goin' in circles on how to restrain them. Different from the usual process of making them unconscious entirely first.”

“What tools do they have?”

“Rope, but not much. Weapons by way of various blades. Flashlights.”

“Any zip ties?”

“Haven't seen those in years.”

“Could make catchers loops. They're easy to make off what we got. A piece of hollowed pole and some dull wire.”

“Mm, another matter is where to place them after. Should we use one of the old spaces?”

“No, those shouldn't be used. We need one large single space that we can add onto. Put in some more plumbing to make better cells.”

“We used to have a basement for storage before it collapsed years ago. Fix the structure and you'll have a convertible space.” Gesturing her staff toward a short square building out in the distance.

“That could work, can you show me?” Following Marta to the double doors of the building. Opening them to a large set of stone stairs downward to the start of a large area. Blocked as Marta said with a caved in roof and many rotten beams threatening to collapse if they haven't already. Seems like the best we got. Separate the place with cells and a front area to act as a buffer in case things go wrong. “Is there another entrance or is this the only one?”

“Only one.”

“Good, we won't have to block another. One way in for the jail is best. I'll ask Liam to work on it. Capture loops I'll make myself after everything else is handled.”

“And Val? If he's caught within the walls of Temple Gate, planning your execution. Then what?”

“If she's caught, send her to jail. I'll either interrogate her or decide right then and there what's to be done.” Correcting something he noticed everyone did in Temple Gate at the mention of Val's gender.

“She? But Val's not-”

“No, but yes.” Trying to keep this as easy an explanation to someone not used to being open. “Maybe not in body, but that's who she is in soul. I won't fight what her soul says is true. Long as it doesn't hurt anyone, then there's no reason to deny what she knows is her true self.” He wasn't sure if he liked using souls as a part of it, but it was a simple start to open the door.

Marta did a sort of eye roll, but didn't argue. “As the angel says. If we capture her we'll bring her to jail and send you news of such then. What about any other Voltaire?”

“Hold them until I get there for interrogation. Unless it's a large group, then bring them to jail.”

All those Blake could save were safely migrated to the new quarantine. Mathew having done well with the tasks given to him. Passing out a bottle to everyone with only a couple of handfuls left over. Using a whole heap of other medical supplies him and Blake cleaned everyone before carefully re-wrapping them. Covered in fresh clean gauze surrounded by the sterile smell of cleaner or alcohol. Each given a simple mat bed, not as fancy as a hospital bed, but would have to do. Blake overlooked their grand handy work while Mathew spent time talking with his mother. The medicine wouldn't fix the damage done to her, but it would buy some time. There were groups of similar on the edge of death, but Blake saw they had enough life to help them out of the pit as much as he could. Their likelihood of fully rejoining Temple Gate wouldn't be possible. They'd be released from quarantine, but they would need full time care and couldn't work. Another thing atop his plate of planning. When everyone was settled he called their attention for the dreaded assembly of awkward sex ED. Explaining what they had, how it was passed and all the basics they should have gotten in an average middle school. Doing his best to answer the strange questions at the end. Hating that he'd have to repeat this for the rest of Temple Gate. He scrubbed himself down all over in a strict cleaning regime. Strong soap smelling heavily of citrus fruits. Then with alcohol before leaving quarantine. Instructing everyone else to scrub with soaps often as possible. Any leaving of quarantine could only be done by the medics, who had to do a thorough scrub down like him.

Pulling his chain mail off he looked over the damage done. Sections disconnected from the many arrows embedded into it. Having gotten the bolts free and the rest from the shooter he took the whole crossbow kit to John. Hiking up the mountain trail naturally developed from foot traffic.

Handing it off to be used for long range hunting. John highly praised Blake for it. “This will be perfect for deer if we come across any.”

“Glad you like it. Know how to use it?”

“Oh yeah, used to be a few in circulation. You can guess what happened to them. Laird and Nick were the last to have one. They even knew how to make 'em.”

“Guess that's why he never ran out of bolts, heh. I plan to have that meeting I meant to give earlier. Gather people at the grand hall on your way there.”

“Of course. … Sir, I want to thank you for what you've done. For my family, my wife especially. Didn't think I'd ever see her after she was sent away. Or if I did, I'd be leaving my son behind.”

he smiled. “It's fine. Be happy and don't worry about it.” Waving goodbye back down the mountain trail.

Blake headed to Liam next about converting the basement after the houses were all fixed. Given permission to gather whatever wood he needed. As for the jail cells, metal bars were to be recycled from the cages Knoth used. Walls created from layering concrete and brick. Walls doubled up with doors if any escape attempts were made. A whole working set for plumbing to be installed. The whole power supply was independent from civilization. Their pipes connected to a massive underground well that naturally refilled come warm spring.

I really need to get on giving out those lord titles. Dragging his feet to the grand hall for the second sex ED class. It felt incredibly long and agonizing telling a bunch of adults this. Fleeing at the first chance he got when the older members filled in for answering the questions. At least not everyone was clueless about the sex life. Inside his room he carved out a few round disks from a white branch he had on the side. Sorting through who was dubbed a lord over what. Aiming this to be more official in some way he carved out a set of badges for each main category. Farming had the silhouette of a recessed bulls head with a carved stalk of wheat over it. Hunting had a bucks head with a berry branch similar to the farmers layered carving. town needs had a hammer surrounded by a carved ring of rope at its edge. health was the classic cross surrounded by a ring of carved olive branches. And guard he based off the classic sheriff star from old western movies he used to watch. Decorated with carved on fake stitch embroidery to simulate threaded leather. Taking time to loop a little wire over to thread each badge onto a chain. Inspecting the two inch disks for anything else to be added.

In hand he gathered up the people to be dubbed. Easy to gather everyone again after they stuck around since the last meeting. Ducking away from more sex questions being asked. Motioning everyone to sit back down while a select few stood on stage. At the podium he awkwardly started his announcement. After so many he still wasn't used to doing them. “Okay, I'm happy to see how far we've gotten. Places rebuilt, farms up and working again and people happy. Since things are growing so large to manage I decided to name a few lords under me. They will manage each sector I put them over and I trust them to make decisions without running to me every time. They will update me when there are large decisions needed. They will help with any issues they have and pass them up to me if serious enough. They'll be wearing one of these, so you know who each one is. They won't get any special treatment. They'll eat and live the same as everyone else.” Lifting up the dangling badges. “First is Marta, in charge of the guard to protect the town from inside and outer threats. James, in charge of farming to managing food stock and storage. John, in charge of hunting and foraging the surrounding land. Liam, for town needs. He will be building what we need or fixing what we have. Along with delivering major supplies from one end of town to the other. And finally Mathew, for health. He will run the hospital, care for the sick, distribute any future meds and keep track of any illness spreading.” Mathew wanted to be a lord and Blake felt he fit it best. He knew the young man wouldn't leave his mothers side needing permanent care. May as well make him in charge of the job to be nearby round the clock. Seeing him beam over the badge warmed Blake's heart that he made the right decision. Dismissing everyone except for the lords to give a meet up schedule. Every few days they'd meet to discuss things that were noteworthy, but could come to him anytime if they wanted.

For the next few weeks nothing much noteworthy happened. Houses were rebuilt from the rot to create nice fresh rows. The basement structure had its framing redone to make a safe inner space. Cells would be constructed later. Mathew was taking his position seriously by constantly giving updates from quarantine. Notifying Blake when they needed more medical supplies or cleaner to keep things sterilized. Updates that the ill were gaining weight after being put on a proper diet. Their sores were leaving alongside the rashes covering them. Major scarring was left over and most likely wouldn't leave for years. Taking up to covering themselves to hide the noticeable marks.

Marta's guard had been improving since being given the capture loops. Hunting down practice volunteers took less time each round. After seeing Blake's chainmail had survived multiple crossbow bolts they asked for a set themselves. To save time making six sets he taught them how to make it themselves on the side. Improved upon by braces of spare wood they collected from Liam and tanned hides John had set. Their new layered suits could protect from anything sharp for the most part. A cross bolt or two if that ever happened. Farms were flourishing through multiple crops Blake aimed to have harvested before the approaching winter. A huge chunk of the harvest would be picked for long time preservation. A selection of meat smoked and dried into batches of jerky. Stored away in jars in a fixed up barn. Numbers were recorded for Blake to copy down into a notebook. A breakdown of medical supplies used, food eaten, and how much money was flowing out of Temple Gate to get its footing. Worrying over the major amounts of cash they were bleeding. All necessary, but the money would run out eventually. And then what? The question haunted him in his dreams. Always delivered by Lynn, who was mutilated differently each time. Asking what he was still doing in Temple Gate. No matter the answer he yelled she refused to accept them. Stabbing him with insults of wanting her death. Keeping all the killers alive after all that they did. Gifting mercy on those who deserved an equally tortuous death that would come back to bite him.

These recurring dreams had soured what mood he had. Hiding it all behind false smiles to keep everyone else up. Neglecting his sleep to stay up late doing anything else but that. He still had a few weeks until the ill would get a health check. Those cleared would be integrated soon as possible. Splitting the head count across various areas, but that could change on the day. Blake rubbed his tired face checking over the copied food numbers. He wanted to be sure everything was copied over correctly or else he could end up panicking from messed up totals. Almost accidentally marking the page from urgent banging on his door.

One of the guard shouting through the door. “Sir, we caught a Voltaire!”

Blake jumped from his chair to the door. “Show me.” Racing out behind the other. Chest tightening at the thought of who it could be. “Is it Val?” She was to be taken to the jail when caught, but that wasn't set up yet. What will I do if it is?

His guard's answer calmed him. “No, a random.” they ran up to the guards surrounding the one snagged. Looking around he wondered what they were doing here. Nothing but a bunch of rotten buildings overtaken by nature.

Marta oversaw everything until Blake arrived. “Snagged him, skulking like a fox. No weapons on him, or anything else.” She approached Blake away from the captured. Whispering the next bit. “You can’t see Val, but he's watching from the hills nearby.”

“She and thank you.”

Marta sighed. “She.” Watching him pass to part the ring of guards.

He looked over the one caught, they were thin and small. Covered in various scar marks, eyes glaring right at Blake as he was kept pinned down. Loops tight around his neck and some at his legs. Blake set his hands on his hips. “What were you doing?” Starting his interrogation. Seeing already that this wasn't going anywhere.

One guard spoke up. “Let's use him for information. He's quiet now, but we can get answers out of him by morning. When we're done we can-”

“No, we're not doing that.” Blake wasn't willing to torture answers out of him and by the others stare he wasn't giving any answers willingly. He thought of skipping them and directly asking Val. That would be a gamble in itself. If this grunt had no worth she wouldn't answer, yet he must have some. She was hiding to see what would happen. A test of Blake's spine when handling threats? A wait and see, to see what would happen and nothing more?

“We should make an example of him.”

The hard glare of the looped one immediately dropped. Their tense shoulders slumped to what was being proposed.

“What has he done?”

“Nothing, yet.”

“Could say trespassing.” Another answered.

“I'd hardly call that something. Let him go.” He waved off.

“What?! We can't let him go. We caught him skulking around to do something.”

“To do what? There's nothing on him and he's hardly anywhere he could cause trouble.” Gesturing around to the old area left untouched still. Made up mainly of dirt with a few rotten abandoned shacks in between. Far from any space being used or lived by. “Why not go directly somewhere else?”

“He could have been sent in to spy.”

“All the Voltaire used to live here. They already know where everything is. What new information could he gain?”

“Find out where you sleep. Next one will be a sent in killer.”

“I'm sure they could figure that out from a distance. I go into the grand hall and never leave like everyone else. If sending in an assassin was so easy I'm sure Knoth would have been dead ages ago.”

“We should string him up as a warning to the others.” The first guard spoke. “We let this one go and they'll push us further next time.”

Agreed by the second guard. “Set on a pyre would be seeable for miles. Even from the mountains they could-”

“No! We're not doing any of that!” Blake roared to shut the conversation down. “He's done nothing but step into an abandoned area. If someone else comes and does something then that'd be worthy of a punishment.” When they passed looks to each other Blake knew they disagreed. Marta passed him a look in asking if she should settle the dispute for him. It would have been easy, but not good for the long run. “Alright, choose what you want to do with him. I'll use that as the base for what each of your punishments will be. I know a few of you here did a lot more than trespassing. Some of you remember well what Knoth decided when he imprisoned you. How did it feel all the way until I freed you? What were your crimes that he decided were so heinous? That ceremony to free you of your sins only stays so long as you change. Do you want to decorate the town with new bodies? You still think trespassing is worth killing over?” They glanced at each other, shifting themselves to downward looks. Avoiding Blake's judging stare aimed at each of them. “Let him go.” This time the order wasn't argued. Loops slipped off before the released was shooed away. Stepped after by Marta up to the border to make sure they were chased out. Blake caught a glimpse of Val reuniting with the other before they ran off.

He had the guard spread out again while he went to sleep for the night. His actions strange consequences becoming known within a matter of days. Val had been spotted repeatedly watching Temple Gate far off in the distance. Reports from Marta kept him aware of each time and place she was spotted. Never seen at night or with any other Voltaire at any time. Marta's paranoia about it still too high; she enforced her guard shifting their routes constantly. In case Val was attempting to study that for a time to attack. Creating a bland map off guesswork Blake pinned the spots she appeared. Not finding out much from it.

While in the dining hall he spotted her from a window. Standing in one of her common spots on the horizon. They were the best spots to get a view of Temple Gate without getting too close to its edge. While avoiding being too far and high on the mountain to see people as specks. He questioned what she wanted. She should know where everything is, at least by now if not before. Does she want something? Turned toward the idea of maybe she wanted to speak with him. No, what would I say to her and what would she ask of me? Speak some crass words or drone on about joining her side? Stomach dropping as if he ate a boulder at the idea of meeting her face to face. Either stabbed by her knife or grabbed by her hands. Feeling him up again while pinned beneath her. Blocking out the idea she'd want to join him instead. No, she wouldn't want that. Shoving away any concept of how to integrate them. He'd prefer focusing on integrating the healed as that day grew closer. Only nine more days. Nervous about how well things would go. He explained everything, but people were still fearful of those recovering. Would he need to separate the groups to prevent fights? Would separating the two help or make things worse? What if everyone refused to work unless the healed were sent away. He had a duty to be their protector, to ensure they were treated fairly in Temple Gate after so long.

He rubbed away a migraine forming at the front of his skull. Hand dropping when he was approached by a group of men. One stepping forward to make a request Blake hadn't experienced before. “Sir, can you official a marriage?”

“Uh ...” I'm not a priest, but it's not like Knoth was. Guess anything goes. “Sure? When's the wedding? What do I do?”

“Don't have much weddings around here. Knoth made 'em official between the families attending in a church. Says a few words from his gospel. Nothin' else than that.”

At least it sounds easy. “I can do that. Won’t be from his book and I'll have to do it in the grand hall instead.”

“Close enough. We'll fetch the bride and groom.”

“I'll be here.” What do priests say at the altar? He pondered as the group left him. Do you take each other in sickness, health and blah blah. I now pronounce you, is that it? God, I remember it being so much longer than that. I was all over the place at my wedding though. Making sure Lynn wasn't stressed. Heh, she was doing the same. Maybe more, I was the nervous wreck through all that. Feel bad for the photographer. How many times did I ask to see the photos? Making adjustments to have Lynn look perfect. That's what happens when you're your wife's camera man. She had to lure me away from that poor guy using a tray of appetizers. Coming out of his thoughts by the group returning. Introductions passed back and forth between the families and Blake.

His pleasantry cut when he met the bride. “Claire.” Introducing herself. A girl looking far too young.

With a groom far too old. “Don.”

Blake stood frozen at what was going on. “Uh, … How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” She kept her head low, eyes scouring the floor for nothing in particular. Avoiding all the older men surrounding her. Shooting her warning looks now and again.

Refusing to support this he stated without hesitation “I'm not marrying you.”

“Why not?” Don asked. “Is it 'cause you didn't oversee the sale? We can go over the trade right now.”

“She's too young.”

“she's sixteen, old 'nough to marry.

Her own father stepped up in agreement. “She's not lookin' at anyone else, thought his offer was fair. So he should get her. Before she gets too old to have kids. 'less you actually want her, but you gotta offer more than Don.”

Blake had to grit his teeth together. “I don't support child marriages.” Holding his temper coming to a roaring boil. “Not in my book.”

“What's the problem? She has to settle down soon and I want 'er.”

“What aren't you getting?! First of all, you can't buy anyone to be your wife! Second, You can't marry until both sides are at least eighteen.”

Marta's appearance briefly paused the argument. The men waited for her to do anything. Glancing from her to Blake when nothing happened.

“Tsk, fine. We'll make our wedding set in bed. Doubt you could officialize it anyways.” regretting his words under Marta's stare.

Blake yanked the girl away. “Like hell I'm letting that happen.” Feeling bad about needing to do it roughly, but they were ready to yank her back. Letting go after Marta stepped forward to intimidate them back.

“You gonna let her die alone? She needs a husband.”

“No she doesn't.” growling out his frustration. “You're lucky the jails not finished yet or I'd throw you in there!”

“Jail for what?!”

The fact that Marta also seemed a little confused worried him. Reasons clicking into place. I'm not in the outside. He sighed before giving a break down. “No one has to marry anyone they don't want. If they want to be alone their whole life, that's fine. Men and women can freely make that choice on their own. You can't claim someone for any reason.”

“How else are we expected to start families? If we let them choose then nobody will get married. Worse, we'll have whores running amok with every man they seduce. Destroying households until there won't be any left.”

“Doubtful.” Blake wasn't going to let this conversation go on. “I'm telling you right now. No-ones allowed to claim anybody. You want to get married so bad? Find a girl that'd actually like you.” An impossible task for him. That I'm sure of. “What you did won't be allowed anymore while I'm in charge. I won't be letting you walk off after this either. You can help James on the field for the next few months. Rise early and leave late, removing all the rocks and weeds.”

“Why should I?! I did nothing wrong! This is how it's always been done! You can't take away-”

“Bite that tongue of yours.” Marta quieted him immediately. “You heard him. Get going before he chooses somethin' worse.”

The man glared between her and him, taking her advice to skitter off alongside the others. Blake turned to the girl, who flinched at his movement. He spoke softly to her. “You don't have to marry him. Or anyone else your father says you should. He can't sell you, I won't allow that.” She thanked him quietly, saying nothing more. He grit his teeth in anger over what happened. Switching to Marta to focus some of it. “Why didn't you say anything?”

her brows furrowed, tapping the cane on her shoulder then giving a half shrug. “That's the way?” her statement hinting at her confusion.

“... Well, it shouldn't. It's not allowed anymore. … Knoth allowed a lot of things that I don't condone. Fathers marrying daughters was one I remember reading.”

“That was only allowed if their wife's passed first. Polygamy wasn't allowed even in marriage.”

“That's not the point. … Do you support it?”

Marta's face crinkled, mumbling in whispers. “That's … how it's been. Knoth wanted the congregation to grow. A holy army ready for war when the end came. Even more so after the ranches fall with so many taken away from us. Outside law was dropped for his holy law to take full effect once Temple Gate was settled.” sounding tired as she droned on a teaching hammered into her. “It's just always been the way, even for me back on the ranch. I owed Knoth for what he gave me.”

“Nobody can own you.”

“My body and my soul always belong to Knoth. Knoths eye, Knoths hound, his best beloved to name a few of my titles. Everything but the wedding ring to finalize it between me and him. He didn't want us to be, nor any other women of the flock for him. Due to his higher callin', but he finalized a few suitors he chose for me. None of 'em lasted after some great struggles.”

“… I want to make it clear you can't belong to someone because they did something for you. You don't belong to me, never will. Knoths gone, you're free, you can say what you want.”

She froze, statue-like, breath held while watching him over the long moment. Blake thought he'd have to repeat the question. Is she looking for an answer from me first? Agree with me no matter what she really thought. Hmm, that's how it's been. Tempted to nudge her in the right direction, but it was better said straight by her.

Minutes stretched on, then she answered. “No, I'd rather see it gone.”

He lightly smiled and nodded. Turning to the girl standing quietly by. Can't let her go home. Asking Marta for suggestions. “Are there any abandoned houses nearby? Ones that aren't falling apart?”

“Few in the forest not far.”

“Good.” addressing them both. “I'm not letting you stay near those creeps or with your dad, who showed support for that. You're moving into a new place. If you want anything from your old home, Marta will escort you there to grab what you want and escort you to your new home. They try to stop you, Marta gets to break their legs. They can't harass you either, tell me or Marta if they try.”

her voice was quiet. “You don't have to do that. I'm expected to marry by my age.”

“I am and you shouldn't. Marry who you want when you're old enough. … Ah, eighteen years old, minimum.” I'll have to do a major announcement for law changes. Back to speaking solely to Marta. “What other stuff did Knoth support? There's a lot I want to see gone. Anything you didn't like that stands out immediately?”

Her eyes widened in a short flash. gaze darting around in a rush to search for something deep in memory. Appearing to have a lot to say, but crushed under the weight of it all in a short instance.

“A lot of stuff then? We can sit down and list them.”

“If you have the time for it all.”

“I do. Help her get settled first then let's go talk at the hall.”

By afternoon, Blake ended up finding out just how much there was to toss or change. His few pieces of paper to take notes turned into its own little book with categories he marked. Many disgusting laws he outright crossed off with others, being not so bad. Needed minor twerking. Marta was a lexicon of everything Knoth ever put into place down to the very day. His laws started out reasonable such as those trained to drive could only move the heavy tractors. Turning more deluded and sickening in the more recent years. Many more were obviously “rules for thee, but not for me.” Like Knoth having many “visitors” in the bedroom without restrictions to women or men. Yet, a common villager had to find a wife to have as many children as possible. No other relationships were allowed.

He went through them all, showing the old vs the renewed to best see his changes. Marta seemed satisfied with a lot of them while others she liked a little less so. Being apprehensive about the concept of parole instead of strictly jail time. “it's always been like that on the outside.”

“Sounds like baby sitting to me. Waste our time watchin' them before they've truly paid for what They've done. Keep 'em in jail 'till they've really learned.”

“As opposed to babysitting them in a cell?”

“Least they're in one place.”

“If they're out, you won't have to feed them all the time.”

“Mm.” she hummed out a light agreement. “When you putting this up?”

“Immediately.”

“All of it? That's a lot to chew in a day.”

“Yes. I don't want people thinking any of this is okay for a day more.” Copying things to a fresh page. “I'll make a few copies to pass out. Can't make one for everybody, 'least not right now.”

“We better make sure you ain't in grabbing distance when you talk. Lot of folks won't take the changes sitting down.”

He nodded between copying. “If things do go south ...” He started. Hands turned cold for no reason he stopped writing.

“I'll be with the guard.”

“But should you?”

“You don't want me to be?”

“I don't want anyone dying. Especially not to you. If it gets bad enough-”

“I can do a lot more than kill.” Interrupting him. “I did it because those were my orders. Without those shackles holdin' me back. people will realize they got more to fear now then before.”

“I don't want people to be scared either.” Tapping the book with his pen.

“Fear keeps them in line, but that was Knoths way. You've managed to find your own to work with. I pray you'll find a way with this too.”

“Thanks. Guess I'll pray too.” Continuing to copy he joked. “Maybe God will save my ass for the twelfth time.”

“Wouldn't hurt.”

“I might be doing this for a while. Can you tell the lords there will be another assembly today. Have them spread the word.”

“What time?”

“Let's say after dinner. I should have at least a few copy's done by then.”

She dipped her head, leaving him to his copying alone. It took him a few hours to make twelve copies of the law book before dinner. One he'd keep personally, one for Marta to keep, one for the guard to study together. As for the rest, some would be left in the hall for people to reference and others kept in case the others disappeared for any reason. Coming up was the harder part, another assembly that had Marta stand beside her guards. The other lords John, Mathew, Liam and James sat toward the front. Blake stood at the podium flicking his hand and stretching it open and closed into a fist. Copying a thick book for hours had strained it. Its sore movement provided a small distraction from his rattled nerves. Repeatedly flexing the strain away in waiting for everyone to sit before starting.

“Today I had to get involved with an issue,” he started. “one about marriage and how it's conducted around here along with the general treatment of women. A toxic black spot left over from Knoth that I need to fix right away. Along with many other laws and views he supported and left behind after his death. Many of those I will not tolerate. I should have fixed this sooner, but I'm doing it now.” He went on through the long assembly. Bringing up the new rule book and many of the big changes it stated. He expected the backlash developing further with each new law, but not the equal defense against the naysayers.

It shot off after some aggressive shouting between a few men. Some on both sides of the room stood up to face one another. “We're supposed to let women run around without husbands. Letting them be a bunch of whores?”

“What do you think they're going to do without a husband? They're women, not succubi! Let them out of the homes and work with us. We could use more hands in the fields. No point forcing a woman to cook at home when you can't bring food to it.”

“I'm not working next to some dumb bitch who can't tell a weed from a growing crop.”

James stood up and scoffed. “Boy, you couldn't tell a carrot from a tree root. Let the women decide if they wanna. If they decide not to then nothings changed now has it?”

“Why change anything at all? This is how things have always been.”

John stood up next.“And how's that been working for us? How high is our body count? Take a look around, how many women we got left? We're lucky Knoth didn't force us to kill the last of them.”

James added on. “We'd have no future at all if they all went. What Knoth created had Temple Gate dying a slow death. We got a chance to change things that I thought would never come. Weather hell comes or not, I'm not missin' this.”

Liam stood on the other side. “Sure, let's change things to help Temple Gate grow. Should make the chains tighter and keep 'em on a curfew. Escorts out of the house by their fathers or husbands only.”

Blake shot that down immediately. “Never.”

another snapped back. “And what if the girls refuse every hand offered to them? We shrug our shoulders -oh well- and watch our town die out after forty years?”

“I rather see that then this town turn toward sex slavery!” James shouted. “You don't want it for that family angle you keep flashing.”

“Of course we want family's.” Liam stated. “It's the only way this town can keep going.”

“Keep going how exactly, through marrying kids, through birthing more baby's?” Room going hush at the word. One side far calmer than the other shifting on their feet. “Look at all of you. You're terrified at the mention of them. Eventually, one's gonna arrive and you'll have to take Knoths false words or accept them for Temple Gates' future. You dumbass's forget what kids were?”

“We ain't forget.” One spoke. “We got a plan together around that.”

Another joined. “If we lock up the girls, get 'em all pregnant, we would know which one bares the Antichrist. Then we-”

“NO!” Blake roared everyone quiet. “NEVER EVER! If I hear one more suggestion like that from someone I will kill them personally myself!”

“You won't do anything. making up all these useless rules, wastin' our time. I ain't following a one. Anyone who ain't married needs to pick a wife. When the Antichrist is found, it'll be killed, then we'll raise the rest. Get the girls married quick, start them young to keep our-”

“SHUT UP!” Kids being targeted next had him snap. Vision filled by a blur of red he attacked the man. Punching into him, clawing and thrashing across the floor. Bashing into many others between their fighting. Whole hall exploding into a riot had Marta lose him in the outbreak. Forced to start grabbing and separating everyone as her guards did the same. One pulled out a knife on James, who got a few slashes to his arms. Forced back he fell over a table, flinching in expectation of a stab to the gut. Instead he heard a shriek of pain. He opened his eyes to see Marta had snapped the attackers leg backwards at the knee. Shoving them against the wall. “Sit and don't move.” Turning to face the crowd again in yanking people away. Any attackers that challenged her wrath were dealt with aggressively. Broken limbs, jaws, physically thrown over her head into the furniture. James and John took to moving the unconscious and broken out of the way.

Even as she was clearing a chunk of the crowd, she still had no sight of Blake. Who was still beating down the man on the floor. Rage dying to exhaustion, hand numb by the strain, his death threat earlier wasn't coming as easy as he wanted it to. When he slowed the other took his chance of a bottle falling off the bar top counter. Smashing it over Blake's head who flinched from the sharp glass. A liquid fell from his head that he expected to be beer. Its red color let him know what it really was. A large pain burned across his head that he couldn't figure out before being punched off the one under him. He slammed into a roll that didn't go far. A knee slammed into his side knocking him over further. Covering his head that spun after receiving some heavy punches. Arms grabbed to be forced away for the punches to connect with his skull. Teeth clacking together he was sure he tasted blood off his bit lip. Struggling to get up with the one above straddled over his back.

Between every other person fighting he wasn't sure what he heard over him. Some strange breath then a gurgle. A warm liquid water falling onto the back of his neck. The weight of the other slumped off him onto the floor next to him. Blake sat up at the sight of the other gripping their stabbed throat. In a moment they stopped twitching to bleed out the last few drops. Blake felt across the back of his neck and saw the blood that wasn't his own. Wiping it away using his own sleeve he was disgusted by how much there was on him. Head whipping around to see who could have done it; nobody stood out to him. Standing up from the floor his appearance stunned everyone still. Being the only one soaked in blood he stood out like a glowing beacon. Dead body bled out laid by his feet as proof it wasn't his own blood spilt.

Without anyone else covered in red he couldn't pinpoint the possible killer. Everyone equally a suspect unless they gave themselves up. Zoning back from his fixation of a killer in the room he noticed everyone staring at him. Locked on in fearful awe that he did exactly as he said he would. Swallowing the taste of copper he spoke to the stilled room. “Anyone else got something to say?” Scanning the room carefully for hints of the killer rather than another debater. “No? Then get the fuck out!” Pointing toward the door.

Main parts of the crowd shuffled out straight home. Marta turned to the guard members standing nearby. “Take all those idiots to the hospital.” Pointing to the line up of those she personally injured. She stood by Blake alongside John, James, and Liam. When it was only them she looked from the corpse to Blake. “You didn't kill him.” the others squinted between Blake and her.

“How are you sure?” John asked.

“He couldn't kill anyone to save his life.”

“No, I didn't. I didn't see who did it either. Did one of you-” Each shook their heads.

“James and John were by me. Liam stayed on the stage after I threatened to break his legs.”

He glanced around, asking next. “Where's Mathew?”

“He ran out soon after the fight started.”

“Shit.” he knelt down to look closer at the body.

“Does it matter?” Liam asked. “You wanted him dead.”

“Yes, but If I'd killed him then I'd only have to worry about my own sanity. Now I have to worry about what kind of killers out there.” Ignoring all the old murders. On closer inspection of the man's neck, he saw a yellowed white piece sticking out. Plucking it out he gave the sharp hard sliver a careful wipe down. “This a porcupine quill?” Standing to show everyone the item in his palm.

Marta picked it up for a careful glance. “It's bone.”

“Bone?” Glancing at the body. “Can't have come from him.”

“No. This is a bit old based on the whitening.” Passing it back to Blake.

Snapping open a pocket he carefully placed it away. “We should find Mathew. Maybe he saw something.”

John leading the way. “I bet he ran home. I always tell him to go there if there's trouble.”

A short walk had them approaching John's house. A small white house with a short covered porch. Its outer paneling hadn't aged gracefully with rot and peeling paint making its appearance. John stepped inside, followed by everyone else to find Mathew stressed out at the dining table. “You okay?”

“I guess.”

“You should drink something.” Fetching a glass of water.

“I don't need- !” Shot up from his chair when he saw Blake still coated in blood. “What happened?!”

“Was in a fight, but someone killed the guy. You see anything?”

“N-no. I ran out soon everyone stared fightin'. Came r-right home.”

“You sure?”

Mathew nodded, taking the glass of water from his dad.

“Okay, if you remember anything. Come tell me or Marta.” looking to the tall woman, her eyes locked into glaring down the boy. “Come on Marta.” Lightly waving her to leave. Even when she turned away her eyes stayed locked on Mathew. Broken past the doorway out of each other's sights. Blake rubbed his face then gagged at the blood smearing further. “I'm going to get cleaned. James, can you handle the body? Marta, you should patrol. In case anything else happens.” Giving out orders through his worsening exhaustion. Tired brain struggling to grasp the answers his lords gave while walking off.

Next morning he felt fresher after last night's deep scrub. Sleep however had slipped away from his grasp. Nightmares of being stalked just before being killed were the recent ones. Better than seeing that fleshy creep at the school. Trying to stay optimistic in his zoned out brain. Zoning back he took in that he was looking out the front window of the grand hall. What was I doing before? … Oh yeah. Seeing that fleck of gold on the horizon. Val, in her usual spot in the mornings.

“Sir, you doing alright?” John approached Blake, who didn't look too well.

“Yeah, brains just been buzzing with all the stuff I have to do. worrying about what's going on in here … what's out there.” Tipping his head up.

John followed his gaze, giving a hum of understanding when spotting Val. “You dealt with them before, right? What do you plan to do with them?”

He sighed. “I don't know.”

“Going to kill them?”

Dull and tired, he was open to suggestions. “Should I?” Swallowing in regret of his question. “ I … I didn't mean that.”

“Hm, most people would. Why don't you?”

“... I don't know. Willing to look away from a lot of things already? I've read a lot of notes left by people. Some from … I wasn't there, but I read what happened. The children cull, the suicides, the guilt everyone admitted too but had no one to turn too. Knoth swept it under the rug as sins or else marked them traitors for death. How much of it was them or how much of it was Knoths crushing choke hold? Would this town have gone so crazy if someone else stepped up?”

“Like you are?”

“Maybe … I guess. I'm not a leader, I couldn't even save one person.”

“You helped all those in quarantine.”

“That's different.” Looking down at the ring on his finger.

“Ah. … I can't speak for everyone, but a lot of us didn't want this to happen. We tried to make things better, help each other, while some- I can't say what they wanted. Nightmares gripped us in every waking moment. Knoth always told us it was our sins finding us and maybe it was? Could say it was us feeling guilt for all that we've done. I like to think of it as showing we still have a conscience left in us, despite everything. Some of us who committed the cruelest things wished we really hadn't. … Marta was one of those and I'm sure there are others. For all those who show regret, will you forgive them?”

“Hard to say. Some of the things Knoth supported I can't ignore. I'll have to deal with those too if they start showing up again.” He sighed. “If they really do regret what they've done and change for the better. Then I have nothing to go after them for.”

“I'm willing to help and I'm sure many others are too.”

“Thanks John.”

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 7

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 6 Apothecary

Next chap: Ch: 8 Kings men

_____________________________________

~Ch: 7 Badlands~

For the whole week he stayed inside to work on the chain mail. Doing a quick check on everyone in the morning then back inside. It became a routine for someone to bring him dinner since he never came out for it. Usually forgetting to eat, he was always worried about why someone was knocking on his door. Marta did it the first few times until John took over. Curious about the work on the chain mail. When Blake would officially step into the quarantine area. Blake unable to give much of an answer. Explaining that his chain mail was for possible arrows shot at him, albeit not very well. Mainly to buy him a couple hits if someone did shoot him, doubting it'd stand up well based on what it was recycled from. As for going, the time would be soon as the week came to a close. Then came the very short topic, asked by John, of dealing with laird and nick. After informing John of their deaths since his last visit Blake left to find Jacob. If the medicines here, it'll be time. Leaving for the doctor's place. Picking up a box from a marked location someplace else the doctor instructed them to. Doing a count to make sure it was all there before leaving back to Temple Gate. Time had come to enter the quarantine, but first he had to make the announcement.

Word naturally got around what he was aiming to do. Aside from those horribly ill to the point of seeing it, he wanted to give meds to everyone else. Crush anything anyone had before it became noticeable. Checking over his chain mail vest he deemed “good enough.” having no sleeves or a collar. Covering him as much as a sleeveless shirt would. It would help keep the vital organs safe, but meant nothing against a head shot or if a leg was crippled. Better than nothing. Tired, he went out to the hall when dinner was being served. Passing up on an offered bowl of chili. Kitchen resorting to cans again after they picked the mountains clean.

Standing at the podium up front people quieted down from their talking. “You all know by now that I plan to enter the quarantine. When I went outside earlier it was to pick up the medicine. These-” Shaking a med bottle in hand. “Will cure those ill in quarantine. Not of everything though. The disease they've suffered for years has done permanent damage that will never go away. But they will be safe to be around and interact with after going through a full treatment of meds. Like them I want everyone here to be on meds. If there is anything going on, but hasn't fully shown itself it'll take care of it. Along with a few other things that basic cough syrup wont handle. Tomorrow I'll enter quarantine to lead them out to the new one for closer watch and care. They will stay there to be treated until 14 days have passed. After that they will be allowed back into Temple Gate and moved into jobs to help the community. I want everyone to treat them as equals and not lesser. We should all know by now that things weren't a punishment by God. It was all a lie to keep someone high and mighty in position.” Finished until he forgot something. “And uh, there'll be a very important meeting on what this disease is, how it's spread, and other … Things.” Awkwardly stumbling about his sex ED class. Out of the two things he wasn't looking forward to, doing that seemed far worse to tackle. “Line up to get your bottle. Take two pills and keep taking two every day until the bottles empty. Do not skip any.”

Passing out bottles to everyone formed a long line. Mathew approached directly to the front to offer help distributing. “Can I take a bunch of bottles to pass out to the end?”

“Yeah, otherwise it's going to take forever with how long this line is.”

Mathew nodded, Grabbing arm fulls of bottles to pass out half way down the line while Blake did the front. When returning to grab more handfuls his dad offered to help as well. Passing out meds to the whole town in 15 minutes. Taking stock of what was left Blake was happy to still see many bottles. Good, might have enough. Taking the remaining back to his room for now. Returning to take his, now cold, bowl of chili. Eating through his meal alone with a look over his chain mail. Am I ready for this? Chewing on a bite for ages to the point he could choke it down. Appetite lost by then that he pushed aside his remaining bowl. Gathering up what little energy he had he dragged himself to bed. Throwing the blanket over his head to hide from the world. Wanting to be alone in the quiet dark for the rest of the night. Right as he shut his eyes he bolted up to his name being screamed from outside. Racing out into the dark night he found an angry mob. Yelling to each other while surrounding someone yelling in pain. “What are you doing?!” he shoved through the mob, tearing apart whoever was in its middle. At the front he was stunned back by who it was. “Lynn?!”

She looked at him, carved to pieces. Limbs hanging by uncut tendons. Bones kept others attached without muscle to hide them. “Look what they did to me!” She screeched at him. Hobbling up to her legs. “Look what they did! And you stay with them!”

“I-I'm sorry, I-”

“You help them after what they did! You're a fucking vile piece of shit!”

Blake couldn't muster any words to her. World closing in to crush him. The mob turned to surround him instead. “I-”

“You couldn't help me or Jessica, but you help them?! Did you really try?!”

Tears streamed down his face. “I did!”

“Liar! If you could've killed Knoth just like that, why didn't you? You could've had them help me! You let this all happen! You let them kill me! You let him kill Jessica!”

“No!”

“Liar! Angel of death. You'll kill everyone you meet. That's what you want. That's why you're here.” Skin still left on her body sagged. Separating from the muscle it stretched into thin threads as it melted to the floor. “War, now pestilence, who rides next Blake? And then? There's only one horseman left.” Blood fell from her mouth. Boils of pus formed across her, grossly huge before bursting to ooze off her. Eating more of her away as an aggressive acid. The figures around him grew thin and twisted. Swarms of locusts eating past their eyes to burst from their mouths in a darkening cloud. He couldn't be here anymore, he had to leave. He ran through the swarm stopped by an immediate pain of hitting a solid object. Eyes shooting open to find himself flailed out on the floor of his room. Face in pain, mostly his nose, from landing on it. Groaning he slipped back into bed to rub his sore face. his night spent awake in bed, full of dread, staring at the ceiling. Deciding to do something, other than dread for the day, he got up to redecorate. Swiping his glasses from off a shelf before shoving junk boxes to the side to move shelves someplace better. Getting rid of things completely from his room. his lonely cot off to the side opposite to his work desk. A few shelves against the wall toward the left of both. Walls barren of anything except nails. A lone yellowed ceiling bulb providing the room it's only light without windows. Sparse for right now. Need to find a rug to give this place some color. Admiring his organized handy work. Warm expression dulling at seeing the first bit of sun creep under his door. Sighing here we go. He grabbed his chain mail to slip on. Wearing his vest he filled with bottles of meds. Bandages shoved in about every pocket he could.

His steps echoing down the hall felt so loud to him. Maybe it was true with how heavy the chain mail was. In the great hall he greeted everyone from the front. “I- … I decided to hold the meeting until after I get back.” Struggling to get through today already.

It must've been written all over his face by what Marta asked him. “Should you go tomorrow?” more of a subtle suggestion.

“No, the longer it takes the less I can save.” Passing by to step out.

Sun hidden by the thick gray clouds collecting across Temple Gate. Following his route he took so many times before to know the way. Good thing I didn't eat breakfast. Stomach already unsettled enough he was sure it would have tossed itself by now. Making one stop to pick something up he Ignored the many steps of followers behind him coming to watch. He stood before the gate into the quarantine zone. Ugly rusted chain link layered by bundles upon bundles of barbed wire to keep all out or in. warnings of sickness to depressing messages of “God bless.” pinned to the chain links. He glanced at Mathew stepping up to his side, who passed a glance back. In a warning he asked the boy.“They tried to kill me last time. I don't know if I can keep you safe. Are you sure you want to go?”

He smiled. “I have faith in you.” Losing it at the sight of what was in Blake's hands.

A long, sharpened axe he stopped for. Brought along to help those far too lost to the disease. “Is your father here? Does he know?”

“H-he didn't want to see me go. We had a long talk b-before.”

They turned to Marta stepping up. “You want me to come?”

“No.” Blake answered. “You're too much of a target if there are arrows. I want as few people as possible for me to worry about.”

She dipped her head, attention snapping to something off in the distance. “Val's watching.” everyone else's attention snapping toward where she looked.

He scanned the horizon and found that fleck of gold. “Well, if she wants to see an idiot fumble through quarantine. I can't stop her.” Shifting his shoulders he stepped toward the gate. Taking a deep breath he opened the rusted door. “Close this once we're in.” Slipping by to squeeze nervously past the walls of barbed wire. Stuck at his side was Mathew tracing his steps.

More so by the time a thick mist rolled down the mountains to flow between the buildings. Hiding their surroundings until they passed close enough to touch something. If some bastard jumps out to vomit on me again. They're getting an axe to the face, no matter. Axe end held high enough to tap against his cheek. It's cold metal down to its weight lowering his hands brought a strange comfort. What didn't was the noise all the rattling bottles caused at each step. How was I to do this again? Find someone and then? Rounding each corner spiking his fear for it to crash down. Mist making it impossible to see more than five feet in front of him. Whispering to Mathew standing next to him. “Did we pass anyone?”

“I didn't see anyone. I don't hear anyone either.”

“Fuck, someones gotta be around here.” Did everyone die? He feared the worst the longer it took to find anybody. Worried about Mathew after he traveled farther from his side. “Don't go too far. We can't risk it with this mist.” Catching up to the young man stopped by finding someone.

Blake looked down at the one laying before them. “He alive?”

“No.” confirming what Blake knew from the lack of breathing. “You think they left?”

“I wouldn't be surprised. They didn't have anything here, but death and misery. But how long ago since they left, then? After their deacons' death or after Knoths?”

“I don't think they would've gotten the news. They only know things because Knoth sent Laird letters.”

“Great, I'll have to break the news then.”

“If we find anyone.”

Forward they passed the stable buildings out into the more shack areas. Environment harder to navigate without any sort of street to follow. Buildings made around trees rather than the other way around. Eaten by nature for daring to try and settle in its path. Bodies littered the ground every few feet. A few were checked for life while others obvious from their half rotten forms. Out of morbid curiosity he stood by a few of the bodies. A similar look about them to how Lynn was in his dream. Can I do this? Doubt gnawed on his mind. Too late to turn back now.

Attention whipping toward Mathew shouting. “Hey, there's someone!” Pointing to a silhouetted figure standing in the fog.

The figure turned to look at Mathew confused. Eyes turned wide when Blake came into view out of the mist. “He's back!” shouting out as he ran away. His silhouette swept away by the thick air.

“Oh boy.” Blake fidgeted with the axe. “Stay close. I don't know what's going to happen.”

Out of the gray they appeared one by one. Dark silhouettes of an approaching mob come to see him. “It's true!” “He's back!” “Our savior!” He heard multiple voices shout. More figures appearing from all sides to circle them.

“Whoa, wait. Hold on!” Blake spoke to the closing crowd.

“He's forgiven us! Forgiven us for killing our saints Laird and Nick!” “Come to deliver his flesh!” “Take a piece of him!” “We are saved!”

“Hey, no! That's not how it works!” His voice fell on deaf ears. Heart thudding in his head at the sharp carving blades shining in their grip. Hands reaching out to tear him apart he grabbed Mathew to turn into a run. leapt on by one of the ill, he dropped his axe. Clawing into whoever was on his back to rip them off. Disgusted by the blood smeared over him he swept the axe back up. Shoving Mathew toward a space they hadn't closed in on. Mobs of the ill coming out of every crevice to crowd after Blake. He knocked a few back by the blunt end of his axe. Leaping over those he thought were bodies until they lunged for their legs.

“What do we do?” Mathew asked the same question Blake was asking himself.

“Find a safe place.” Was what he came up with.

Charging into a shack that had no way to shut themselves inside. Right in and out they went through multiple structures. Leaping over fallen logs to fences they couldn't see much of. A clunk noise turned Blake's blood to ice. Halting behind a tree he yanked Mathew behind in time to see a chunk of tree shot off.

“You said Laird and Nick were dead!”

“They are, but their crossbows still around.” Yanking Mathew forward rather harshly to keep them going before the next reload. Slowed too much the hoard had caught up to the two. Their exits dwindled further and further; they kept making twists and turns to escape. Blake saw in his mind that their escape was turning into a loop. Their circle tightening without a way to break through. If they were caught by the mob wall too long he imagined an arrow would finish them off. A whiz of one by the back of his head nicked the skin off. His dreaded asthma squeezed the lungs out of his air. If he didn't stop soon for a breather he would surely collapse. Mathew would have to guard his body until he woke. Refusing to leave Mathew in that position he rather split away. Shelter was what they needed to have any chance. Ignoring his wheezing he scanned the mists edge, running up to a slanted shack they found empty with some doors to block. Shoving a table against it that wouldn't hold for long. He shook against a wall to wheeze air into his burning lungs. This place felt so much worse then when he was here last. Was this a mistake? Could I go back? Imagining himself returning to disappointed looks from everyone upon his failed mission. He felt sick, readying to vomit. Held back by Mathew patting him on the shoulder. His voice unable to reach Blake stuck in his thoughts. Why am I here? I can't help these people. I shouldn't have come back, I shouldn't be here. Lynn, I'm sorry. I- Literally shaken from his thoughts by Mathew.

“Sir, are you alright?”

He looked down to his hands. “Y-yeah. Needed a moment.” He couldn't stop shaking. God, what am I doing?

“Should we go back? We can come another time with more people. At least when it's clear and we can see our hands in front of our faces.”

Willing to admit defeat if it got him back someplace safe. “Yeah, let's do that.” His lungs no longer burning he went for the door. Table moved to peek his head out he glanced back and forth. Without seeing the silhouette of the hoard he stepped out first. Back slammed into the floor before he realized what had happened. Knocked back so hard by a hit to the chest. His tightly shut eyes opened to Mathews shocked face dragging him back inside to slam the door shut. “Are you okay?!”

Blake sat up to look at what hit him. An arrow, stuck into his chest. He pulled the chain mail away from him and let out a breath when he saw it didn't pierce him too deep. A slight jab while most the arrow was stuck in between the broken links. “Fuck.” Gripping the arrow to yank it out not going too well. It was jammed in good and a mob of people came banging on the door left him no choice but to leave it. Snapping off its length to not deal with that while running. Helped to his feet they prepared for what was coming. Blake had the only weapon on hand. Both had nowhere to run to in the metal makeshift shack. Their lone exit blocked by people wanting to devour him alive. Tightening his grip on the axe he slammed it into one of the walls. Loosening it back enough that him and Mathew slipped out. An arrow swishing past Blake's head when disappearing into the mist.

In his running he didn't see right away that Mathew was no longer at his shoulder. “Mathew?” he called out despite the danger. “Mathew?!” Frantic about if he should run back or search nearby. When did he lose sight of him? Did Mathew get ahead of him? Heart wrenched by the sounds of him begging for help. Blake didn't hesitate to run toward the sound.

Arriving to the scene of them hanging Mathew up a tree. Choked by a rope pulled back by a group Blake charged into the line. Knocking them over to drop Mathew to gasp for air at the dirt. Another arrow slammed Blake down next to him after a hit to the shoulder. Hands grabbed onto his chain mail vest to get a grip on him. Unintentionally helping him to his feet he bashed away those who had a hold. Yanking Mathew up by the arm to scare an exit open by wildly swinging his axe. He could've chopped right through them, but that would ruin the whole reason they were there. Goddamn these people! Another flash of an arrow passed his vision. Lungs choking him to wheeze in what air he could. Anger boiling over at this point. I'm an angel, aren't I? I shouldn't be running. He pushed Mathew forward to keep going.

Choking on his words when Blake ran back to the hoard. “What are you doing?!”

“Living up to my title.” If someones going to die first it's gonna be the one with the arrows. Stopping and going with each shot taken his way. On his final approach his burning courage faltered by another hit to the chest. Gritting his teeth from the painful hit he kept forward. Another hit he was sure broke a rib. Then a third hit too high for his liking. He was close and had to find the bow man before another round was loaded. Soon as he saw a figure by a tree he charged at them. The dull end of his axe slammed into the shooter's head. Blake grabbed the cross bow before it had a second to lay on the ground. Roaring at the one he stood over. “Get up!” Gripping what covering they had to get them on their feet. Fighting him to keep the bow or his axe from being taken. He shoved them back into a nearby tree tired of all the fighting. “You want a savior?! You got the angel of death instead! I reaped Knoths soul in the center of Temple Gate itself!” Like he wanted his title scared the fight right out of his captive. “Eat me and all you'll get is deadly food poisoning!” Calming down to not shout his next wording. “I didn't come to kill, I came here to help, but you have to do what I say.” Giving the other a light shake. “Understand?”

They nodded. “Y-yes.”

“Good, go out and tell them I will help them. Not by being eaten!” Slipping out a bottle. “These can help heal you of the disease, but not of the damage it's done over the years. I have many of these and can get more if there's not enough to pass out. I will lead you all out to a new quarantine. One that's safer where you will get better care. This one can be yours.” Passing the bottle to the others hands. “Get everyone to gather by the gate into Temple Gate. Everyone, no matter their condition. Those I cannot help with medicine … I will help them pass on instead.” Guiding the other out into the mist to gather the still hunting hoard. Really hoping that Mathew was safe wherever he ended up and wasn't eaten. He stood still by the tree, crossbow and axe in hand. Allowing the news of his true saving method to spread first. The mist cleared later in the day he tracked his way back to the more town like area. Anxiety almost having him run at the sight of a mob of people. Calming down that this was the place he told them to meet.

Each one passed glances between one another upon seeing him. Whispers murmuring his intimidating title “Angel of death”. Alongside the news he informed the first of. “Knoths gone.” “Taken by the angel.” “Will we be taken too?” They parted from his path to the center of the assembly.

“I have come to save who I can. If you listen to me I will take you out of this dump to a new quarantine zone. Which will be temporary.” He awkwardly announced. “This was not a punishment from the lord. This was never a “disease of the soul.” You were led astray by Knoth. He spread this disease among you and knew he could have helped you at any time, but he didn't. He is no longer here, I killed him. I will be doing what he was supposed to a long time ago. Not by eating me or my friend.” Pulling another bottle off him to hold up. “After taking this medication for a full 14 days you will be allowed back fully into Temple Gate.” The news brought up many whispers within the crowd. Hushed by Blake continuing his instructions. “I want to save as many as I can, but I need help finding everyone. As the angel of death I have one other task. I can't save everyone, despite wanting to.” Delivering the grim news.

“Who shall be taken to the lord?” One asked.

“... Those the medicine cannot help. You probably know who, ones who suffered the longest. … Help me find others to save. Those who are the worst will be getting bottles first.” Spreading a way out of the crowd. He was worried at not seeing Mathew within the crowd. They wandered around the disgusting quarantine area. Checking on bodies to confirm they were dead or not. It didn't take long for Blake to find the first of many too far gone. Laying as the living dead left skinless in the dirt. Emaciated as they wheezed without a reaction to anything Blake spoke to them. He took a deep breath to slam the axe down hard as he could. Skull cracking in two for a merciful kill in one hit. It was why he picked his axe so carefully. Its weight offered a strong hit that wouldn't force him to do another one on a poor soul. Careful around handling those piled in ditches. Half piled with the dead while the rest could be living. If that's what it could be called at this point.

Each merciful passing left Blake questioning if this was right. Could he help them some other way? When he saw the next person suffering he knew there was nothing to be done. Even getting them to a real hospital for help wouldn't save them. At most they'd be given heavy painkillers for end of life care. He kept on his sweep for those too far gone. Wanting to make sure no one was forgotten when they left, stuck alone to rot without anybody knowing.

“Blake!” He stopped when Mathew called. Racing to find him standing at the entrance of a tent half collapsed. The look on his face saying it was urgent. Inside he met a woman looking as bad as the rest. Laying in bed covered in an angry red rash that peeled the skin back. Boils not helping the already damaged skin cracking around them. Covered in old bandages that may as well be useless now. Despite her condition she managed to smile at Blake's appearance. “Here's the angel I told you about mom.” Mathew gestured to Blake.

He smiled an awkward. “Hey.” When introduced. taking a small stool nearby he sat beside her resting place. Examining the poor women he knew the disease had stuck with her too long. Judging by how Mathew left to stand outside, he knew it too.

She wheezed out each word.“My son told me about all you've done.”

“Heh, I don't think it's much. How are you feeling?”

“Tired of being sick. The air is too thick to take in anymore. I can't stand since my heart stills between the few beats.” She was honest, but it wasn't what Blake wanted to hear. Her tired eyes settled on the bloody axe in his hands. “I didn't expect to see my son ever again before my time. Always waiting for the night that would be my last. I prayed for it, being the lone thing I had left to look forward to. Before then I prayed that my son would be safe. That I would never see him end up here. From what he's told me, that won't be happening to anyone else. I'm happy to see that my boys in good hands, that's all I really wanted. I have nothing more to pray for.”

Blake dipped his head down to the axe. Standing to continue out his task without another word. Outside Mathew was on the verge of tears. Unable to look at Blake when he finally stepped out of the tent. Breaking down after Blake set a hand on his shoulder. Crumpling into himself to sit and sob into his hands. Refusing to move on even when his arm was tugged on. One arm pulled away from him he gripped onto a bottle Blake set against his hand. Sobs slowing enough to clear the tears from his eyes to stare down at the orange bottle.

“I have to keep going around for a while. Help your mother and move people to the other quarantine. Pass out the rest of the meds once everyone's settled.” Patting the younger man on the back after he cried even harder over the given bottle.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 5 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 6

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: Ch: 5 Deluge

Next chap: Ch: 7 Badlands

_____________________________________

~Ch: 6 Apothecary~

Without any more incidents they traveled across the mountains. Rain poured down on them the whole time causing fear of more mudslides until they reached sparser areas of the forest. Taking in the view of the land off the last mountain peak they were to climb over. Temple Gate couldn't be seen, but ahead they saw the outside town. Surrounded by nothing much but open scrub land. Its space easier to cross between the mud than when in the forest. Rushing themselves to make it in time they reached its edge by sun down.

Blake spoke to John and Marta. “You two stay here. I don't want too much attention on us.” mainly Marta, but he didn't want to leave her alone. Pushing forward with Jacob and James to find some farming supplier first before closing. Basics for survival were priority on the list. Making a deal on a used, but good hauling truck he convinced the seller to take cash, no questions asked or involving any paperwork. Loading that same truck with bags of seeds James looked over. Down some aisles Blake was grabbing tools by the arm full. Noticing shelf's holding packages of water testing kits. Shoving a bunch of those into carts to test the lake when they returned. He'd know for sure then what was safe to drink or not. Moving next to the gas station they bought a fuel tank they strapped down to the back. The bags of seeds helped to secure it. Although Blake was terrified of the journey back now. Imagining the whole fuel tank rolling off down a mountain or slamming into the front and leaking.

“How much you think this will last us?” Blake asked Jacob in terms of fuel. Following him onward to the doctors office.

“Six days if you reconnect everything. Twice if you leave disconnections. Good enough I say, but we can take a second trip w-w-with the truck if we wanna.”

“That's it? I thought it'd get us closer to a month.”

“I told you, to haul a week's worth back you'll need a truck. Temple Gates generator needs 2,208 gallons to fill it. That would last us little over a month with e-e-everything plugged in.”

“Shit, a truck ain't enough. Need a goddamn tanker to bring that much back.”

“Mmhm, you can see why Knoth only had us buying this much now and again.”

“You can drive, right? Check out another truck for fuel, go back to grab more cash when this is done. Then drive back to buy and load up.”

“You think you got enough for that? Gas itself will be the k-k-killer on cost.”

“Think so. That fat bastard has so much stashed away.”

“We heard he got money from some loyal f-f-followers from the outside, but only ever saw what he gave.”

“He's got followers on the outside too?”

“Not any more. Before Temple Gate he taught us some people were after him and destroyed the last place. A l-l-lady who gave him a ranch to preach on. She gave him the money to run everything. M-m-must've grabbed it before he ran.”

“Sounds right.” The two headed into a small white office to the front. A lone clerk at the front smoking a cig dress in white baggy clothes and a few gold chains around his neck. Soon as the clerk saw Jacob a huge grin stretched across his face. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “Aww shit, if it ain't one of those righteous followers. Haven't seen you in a while, where's the rest of your posse?”

“Gone, here to fill out-” Pulling out the branded patch that was waved right off.

“Yeah yeah, don't need to show me that thing every time. What's with those two?” Waving to Blake and James.

“New travelers.”

Pointing to Blake in particular. “He don't look like one of you.”

Blake gave a crooked smile. “New to the cause.” Unwilling to explain his whole situation up to now.

He eyed Blake suspiciously. “How so? That town out there don't like new faces moving in.”

He took a deep breath to lower his growing annoyance. “Like you, I don't want a lot of questions. Old management got a sudden retirement of six feet under from me and now I'm running things.”

“Mm, I gotchu Mr. manager. I'll fill out your prescription.” Putting the cig back in his mouth he stood to head for the back.

Being stopped by Blake. “I'd actually like an appointment with the doctor. I need to change my prescription.”

“Mm.” The clerk blew out a cloud. “Doctor don't like sudden prescription changes. Unless it sounds urgent enough for him.”

“It is. My prescription isn't lasting long enough. I need a couple refills.” Removing his bag to show the bricks of cash inside.

“Oh yeah, that definitely sounds urgent enough for the doctor. Lemme set you up an appointment.” Disappearing into the back for a few minutes before returning. “Aight, doctor will see you now, but only you two. Third boys gotta stay out. Doctors in the office end of the hall. Don't go nowhere else.”

Doing as they were told they headed into the back office. James sitting behind in the waiting room. Blake and Jacob were greeted by the doctor dressed far more professional than his clerk. Balding with thick black rimmed glasses dressed in a white coat over a dark vest and red tie. Having a gold right canine in front of where another tooth was missing in the back. “Nice to see you again. My clerk told me things were different back at the church. That why you haven't been back for your prescription?”

“Yes.”

He faced Blake. “Then you're the new patient I'll be treating from now on?”

“Yes.”

“Good, my name is Dr. Luke and I'll be taking care of your needs. your name?”

“Blake.” glancing down at the doctor's gold desk plaque. “Not going by your last name doctor?”

“Prefer not with anybody honestly. Forget bad apples, my family's a whole rotten orchard.” He laughed. “Nice to meet you, now onto business. You wanted a change on the usual order?”

“I need the same thing, but a shit ton more.”

“How much more? A bag of bottles?”

“No, I mean like crates. I need crates of this stuff to help a whole town's worth.”

“Goddamn son, what was old management doing out there?”

“Can you get that much?”

“Of course I can. It's all about cost and whether you can pay it.” He pulled a calculator from his desk. “Roughly, how many you think are sick? And when do you want these crates?”

“Let's say 200, soon as possible. Town needed this years ago.”

“That'll hike the price to the extremes.” Typing in numbers. “Okay, for a single crate of 200 bottles. 40 pills each. Adding on a delivery within this week. It'll cost you $83,000 per crate delivery.”

“FUCKING HELL! It's not that much!”

“This covers everything from pills, shipment, bribes to pass it through the red tape. Insurance that you're getting the real thing and not sugar placebos.”

“And profit.”

“Heh, that too.” He grinned.

“Lower it.”

“What? I can't do that.”

“Yes you can, it's not that much.”

“Of course it is.” The doctor laughed. “What do you kno-”

Blake grabbed onto the doctor's coat to yank him across the desk. “I'm a fucking reporter! You know how many drug cases I had to follow. How many officers I know and interviewed on this stuff. I could walk into a police station right now and have your ass arrested in minutes!”

“Of fucking what? They can't arrest me on the words of some crazy cult.” Attempts to free himself of Blake's grasp halted by the next threat.

“After all the ungodly stuff I've seen. If I can't get those meds then there's no point in keeping you around. I will skin you right here and now on this desk.”

“Okay, okay!” Luke pacified Blake's deadly rage. “Best I can do is $42,000.” Sitting back in his chair when let go.

“Better. I don't have enough cash on me right now. Can I put down a deposit to get the order going and tomorrow afternoon I can pay you the rest?”

“How much you got on you?”

“$13,670.” Setting the bag in front of him.

“I'll need to count it. If it's at least that It'll work.” Gathering up the still damp bill stacks. Each of them startled back by the door rammed down.

“Marta?!” Blake surprised by her appearance. “Why'd you do that?!” He motioned at the door off its hinges.

A nervous James behind her. “Heard a lot of yelling and banging around. So I fetched her.” the doctor's clerk glaring from down the hall.

He sighed. “Everything's fine.” Turning to the doctor. “Sorry about that, I'll pay for the door.”

Luke didn't answer, stuck squinting up at Marta.

Which agitated her greatly. “What?” She snapped.

“Your neck, never seen wire embedded into people. Neglected dogs at most when their collars got too small.”

Blake took a look at the wound. Her skin already growing over it. Its sight made Blake feel a phantom pain around his own. Should get that taken care of. “Can you treat it?”

“Yes, those college papers on the wall aren't fake believe it or not. Was easier to have a real business made, but prescriptions is where the real money is.” Snickering about it. “Let's head down to the actual office.”

Marta got the wires cut free from her neck. Needing Blake to repeatedly tell her everything was okay. Left behind were two large rings that would eventually scar. Soaked in a cleansing solution before being wrapped. Reminded again what the doctor gave her was safe. A shot of antibiotics and one for tetanus. Her ankle looked at next. A dislocation that was fixed by a loud snap back into place. Reaching the limit of her patience it was left unwrapped. Told that she should expect to walk normal again in a few months. Doctor checking next on Blake who was covered in twice as many wounds. From holes in his hands, a still bleeding gash on his head, his stabbed leg being the big ones.

“Whoever packed your leg did a good job. Bleeding stopped without any inflammation.” Luke commented after washing out the gash. Giving Blake the same shots he gave Marta. Everything else cleaned and properly bandaged. Blake noted to himself that they still needed a lot more supplies. Battery's, food, bandages and definitely more fuel. Rubbing his face by the time they left the doctors place. Grouped back at the truck.

“S-s-should we start driving back now or in the morning?”

“Morning, when we can see the forest. I don't want to rough it off road in the night. Stay here, I'm going to buy us some fresh food.” Leaving to a nearby diner he saw staying open. Putting in an order of burgers with cups of water. Using the last bit of money on him he pulled from his back pocket. Happy to return with something hot and not from a can. “It's not steak, but I think you'll like it.” Passing a take out tray to Jacob. The small traveling group enjoying the finer meal before going to bed. Sleeping in the truck or by a campfire nearby.

Traveling back first thing in the morning was nerve wracking. Traversing rough terrain with a full load shifting back and forth. Threading it through trees at an angle that could have sent them rolling down if a tire slipped. Patches of old driven paths gave a moment to relax before the next rough patch. Blake gave himself another task of building a road. Driving into Temple Gate earned them a lot of looks. Seeing who it was stepping out, people returned to their daily tasks. Farming supplies all dropped off for James to start. Gathering up more people to ready the fields. Gas emptied into the generator stuttering itself dead when they came. Disconnected set back onto the power grid. More money collected for a second trip to the outside. This time only between Jacob and Blake. Marta placed back on patrol, refusing to rest after her ankle was set back. John headed out with his son to catch more food. Temple Gate, managing well on its own, was able to gather enough for soup again. The Voltaire's had stayed away, purely focusing on the traveling party was Blake's guess.

Their next visit to the outside didn't last nearly as long. Meds were paid off, trucks loaded up with a variety of fresh canned foods. First aid kits of all kinds along with boxes of batteries. Taking up a short tanker truck to properly haul gas. The amount he spent that day would have had his past self die of a heart attack. Traveling back was a whole other mission with the tanker. They couldn't just off road it like the truck. Taking up the goal to carve a road earlier than first planned. Logs chopped just enough to pass through. Boulders chained and pulled from the earth out of the way. Threading a few trees they couldn't do anything with.

“Okay, this better fill the generator for the month. Because I'm not doing this again anytime soon.” Blake mentioned to Jacob after parking by the generator.

“Should do it.”

“Should have bought a plane. It'd be easier to air drop supplies.” joking to himself. “But I sure as hell ain't flying in it.” Checking in on how the town was doing. A lot of buildings fixed up to at least be stable for living. With how ramshackle some were he wanted to improve them into actual homes, from their current shack made of scraps. Is there a carpenter around here? Searching to ask Marta if she knew anyone who fit.

“Liam was a builder.” she pointed to someone.

Another older man with a head full of gray hair. One of his eyes permanently shut from a crushed socket done long ago. Him and Blake talked it out on what was needed. Wood was the first major thing. Given the permission to clear trees from what would be their road to the outside. Solving two things in one. Liam was given a group of workers for assistance and as apprentices for future needs. Blake, being run down these past few days, went back to his storage room for much needed rest. Time disappeared to the next day for further planning on how the town was managed. Gathering the kits he bought to test the water for everything imaginable at separate points. As James told him before, the upper river rapids were perfectly safe. The lake itself not so much with its high mercury levels and the southern river shouldn't have anyone going near it. Being the main end of the mine's old runoff. Testing the few wells in town he was happily surprised to find them safe. Passing along that news to the whole town.

Taking more pills he stared down at the bottle in hand. How to get in and out? Tackling the quarantine area. They should be helped like everyone else was. Last time I was shot at, buried and almost eaten. I need some armor before I go in. Even if Nick and Laird are dead, someone else could have picked up the crossbow by now. … And those who've been sick far too long. … Should I go back to town on my own? Tell the government about everything? What would happen to them? If the law saw all the crimes committed here would any of them not be put in jail? Some kept a clear enough head to know what was going on, but had no choice if they wanted to survive. Law may not care too much about that. People won't react well to strangers coming in. especially the Voltaire's. That'll be a massacre in the woods for sure. As for the land itself, its occupation is completely illegal. Everyone would be immediately evicted, and then what? None of them can survive the outside. No street smarts or a shred of paperwork to get help. No, best not hand the reins over to the government. Tossing that idea away.

I enter quarantine, then what? Convince them I'm there to save them, this time, as long as they don't eat me. Hand out pills to those who can still take them. Others … Could I decide? … Leaving them would be cruel and the meds can't take back the years of organ damage. Rubbing his eyes of a developing headache. Really living up to my angel of death moniker. I shouldn't force them to stay in that death camp. That place needs to be burned down for sterilization. New place should be built where they can be watched and treated. Move them there after giving pills. Wait it out then reintroduce them into Temple Gate. Shoving the pills away to go find a length of barbed wire. Inspecting how thick the entwined sections were. I think this should be enough. I got a week to bend this down into something usable.

“Sir.” A woman's voice caught his attention. Facing her he saw her hands out with a piled set of neatly folded clothes. “Made these for you.” Smiling when she handed them off.

“Wow, thank you. You don't have to give me anything though.”

“I know.” she held her smile as she left.

He took his new gift and the barbed wire back to his room. Changing into one of the new sets immediately after not having a change of clothes for twelve days. Fresher than he's been in a while he looked over the old clothes. Gotta wash these after a soak in bleach. Will marinating in mercury lake kill anything on it? Snatching a bucket and some dish soap off the shelf's he wandered over to the southern river. Scrubbing the fabric ten times over to the point his hands were turned raw. Least I got more clothes now. Plopping his old set on a shelf. Should make this into an actual bedroom sometime. Grabbing a pair of wire clippers to use. Snipping down the bundle of barbed wire into a pile of mini pieces. Turning those into rings he layered along to other rings. A square of them forming the start of a chain mail vest by the end of the day. Tired from the intricate work he went to check on everyone else.

The grand hall filled with people eating another meal of soup. “Evening, sir.” greeted by Mathew, John's son, cooking in the kitchen. He was the youngest of them all from what Blake could tell. Maybe having turned fifteen recently. He was covered in scars as much as the rest, but nothing too noticeable.

“Evening.” he greeted back as he scooped himself a bowl of soup.

“We couldn't find much today so I threw in a few bags of rice. If that's okay.”

“Yeah, long as everyone gets to eat. Hopefully soon we can live off farming and leave the pantry for emergencies.”

“Would be grand. My father says your getting medicine for the scalled. Are you going to save them?”

“Going to try. I don't think we should call them scalled anymore, they're just sick. When they get actual medicine they'll get better.” Taking a bite.

“Have you seen the quarantine before?”

“Entered it once on the way to heretic mountain.”

“Could you look for my mom? She was sent away a few years ago.”

Blake choked down his current spoonful of soup. “I - I'll uh try. I can't promise anything.” gloom settled thickly in the air. “I don't think I'll be able to save everyone, to tell you the truth. The longer Knoth let them suffer the less of a chance they have. If it comes down to it, where medicine can’t help ...”

Mathews' gaze turned to the floor. “I understand.” Head brought up to ask. “Can I come with you when you go? If nothing can be done I can at least say goodbye.”

He didn't want anybody following him in, but how could he say no to that. “Sure, but it could be dangerous. Last time they tried to eat me.” He warned through a nervous smile. Doing his best to eat his meal.

“I'm not afraid, I'll be with an angel.” He nervously smiled back.

“Oh yeah …” Mumbling the next bit. “Angel of death.”

“You're doing a shitty job then, sir.” raising a laugh from both of them.

“Night Mathew.” Leaving the kitchen he passed Marta. “Have you rested your ankle at all?” knowing full well she didn't.

“The wicked get no rest, so neither do I.”

“It won't get better unless you do.”

“Someone has to watch the night.”

“When do you sleep?” Asking earnestly with her being up both times of the day. The look she gave him didn't help. “You have to sleep sometime. You should pick some people.”

“I can stand on my own.” Huffing at the suggestion. “You think I'm not strong enough?”

“I don't want you dying from exhaustion. What happens if you fall sick? If you can't do anything at all, then what? We should have a guard to enforce some law around here. Stop trouble before it devolves into another riot.”

She mumbled some verses, but tuned into his suggestion. “What does the angel want?”

“Pick at least twelve people who can keep watch. Fast runners with muscle. If something goes wrong they can help. If they can't, then they can run to you. You'll be in charge of them, to train them on what you know. When you feel they're trained enough, put them on a watch schedule. six for the day and six for the night. If they end up doing something you don't like. It's your choice how to punish them. You won't have to come to me.” Hmm, should make a proper jail somewhere. Need to put someone somewhere if they break the law. Knoths jail wasn't fit for even a dog kennel.

“I will do what the angel asks.” On her way to pick a few souls for the duty.

“Thank you.” He spoke. returning to his room where he finished his bowl of soup. Jumping into bed for another night's rest.

Halfway through the night Blake woke to running thoughts. Bits and pieces he looked over that were important for later on. Need more housing to be made. For the newcomers and for the ones whose houses burned down. Curing them won't matter much if we suffer a repeat. Wanting to be shot with an arrow rather than run a sex ED meeting. Unable to sleep anymore he went back to his work desk. Making more links to chain together on the small patchwork he had ready. Focusing on that long enough for the sun to rise. Aware of the time because the light reached under his door. He stretched with a yawn to go find Liam.

A brief meeting to discuss what also needed to be made. A full list of orders that needed some to “Be finished by end of the week.”

“End of the week?” Liam was taken aback. “With all your asking, it'll take a few months.”

“This is really important. What if you had a lot more helping you?”

“It'd help, but with so many not knowing the trade it could still take longer than a week.”

“Take as many as you need. Quarantine area should be finished first. New houses can wait a while longer. In a week I want to move the scalled out into the new quarantine area. After 14 more days I want to move them into new houses.”

“Where do you want these new houses?”

“Somewhere around here. Any extra land you clear of wood set them there.”

“You want to bring the scalled into town?”

“They won't be ill anymore at that point. The goal of the new quarantine is to set them closer. Where they can get proper care without being forgotten and neglected. I have meds coming that can cure them after 14 days.”

“Mm.” Liam let out a grumbling growl. “Long as I don't have to get near them. Should I surround it with wire to keep them from wanderin'?”

“Chain link only, wire won't be necessary.”

“What if they try climbin' over?”

“If they want to run I won't stop them.”

“I mean if they want to spread their disease to us livin' better.” His bitter tone souring Blake's own mood.

“I think they only want to get better. Don't you think?”

“If I were them I'd want everyone to suffer as I have.”

“I wouldn't.” Turning the topic. “When they're brought out of quarantine, safe and healthy to interact with. They'll need houses to move into. Wherever you can clear flat land.”

“I got it.” Unenthusiastic about details. “It'd be easier reclaiming the rot for 'em.” Shot a glare he clarified. “I don't mean a trash heap. There are buildings out there that have rotted from mismanagement. Won't be long before they're a pile of junk. The walls need to be completely rebuilt, but the foundation and inner workings should be fine. Wires to the power lines, pipes, sinks, stoves and what furniture that survived the years. They'll take half the time compared to a scratch build.”

“Work on those then. Know how many there are?”

“Whole districts worth. 18 houses we can fix up from rot. Maybe 20 more if not too far gone.”

Breaking down the area to Blake. Working out a firmer schedule to get things ready. More men brought over to have a whole task force to get the job done in time. Crossing paths with Marta and her newly selected guard on the way to check on others.

“Will they do?” She asked for Blake's final word.

Each one had some muscle on their tall frames. Held back by a lack of good diet Blake was sure of. Still not a single one scraped the height Marta stood at. “They'll do.” Dipping his head in approval toward them as he headed off. Scouring the mountain he found the hunting party led by Mathew. “Where's john?”

“He's setting traps along the mountain. He didn't like bringing too many because it startled the food away. Left our scent all over the area that made traps useless. Did you need to talk with him?”

“No, just checking in. Everything's getting so big around here I'm afraid I'll miss something if I don't.”

“If it's about orders, could give 'em through the radios.”

“Ugh.” his skin crawled at the mention. “I rather not, it disconnects me from people. Makes me become a faceless voice spitting orders to everyone. I rather meet and hear about any issues in person.”

“What about making deacons?”

“Huh?”

“Deacons, they were under Knoth to pass messages. Paul used to be one, before he was ordered dead, we brought issues to since he was of the few Knoth listened to. Same for Laird and … Val, when they were chief deacon.”

“Yeah, that's a good idea. I don't think I could call them deacons though. I don't flow much with the religious thought Temple Gate had before.”

“Lords then, runners of land and its people under the king?”

“Works for me.”

“Can I be a lord?” His excitement warmed Blake.

“Maybe, I'll think of who should get a title. Good luck hunting.” Waving goodbye. Passing down the mountain he saw the building team clearing trees. A huge line of road cleared surrounding the tire tracks. Sections of trunks chopped to haul easier back into town for further processing. On the wind he could smell the fresh cut wood. Breathing easier through his asthma. Ruined by more rain pouring down. This place ever stay dry? Isn't this supposed to be the desert? Rushing through to avoid becoming soaked. Stepping down the great hall to pick up his work at the desk. Sighing tiredly at the dull work of ring links he took a break first. Wanting to carve something to relax from all the stress of running a town. I should choose who should manage what. Chipping away to carve out a simple rabbit figure. Then a few small chickens. Focusing back on his chain mail when his carvings felt finished.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 6 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 5

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: CH: 4 Eucharist

Next chap: Ch: 6 Apothecary

_____________________________________

~Ch: 5 Deluge~

The next morning Blake woke to a knock on his door. Grumbling as he got up to answer. “Coming.” Almost falling over before he reached the door in his half awake state.

Meeting Marta standing at the door with a man stood beside her. “I brought you Jacob, the traveler.”

He shrunk under her gesturing toward him looking like a child brought to the principle. He was shorter than most with a completely shaved head. Thin as a twig suffering some sort of jittery tick. One arm randomly flexing its muscle to shut his hand closed. Another twitched half his face to tug his mouth as his eye squinted repeatedly.

“Oh, yeah, very good.” Rubbing his face to wake up faster. “Let's go talk in the hall.” gesturing in a point for them to head toward the large room. “Okay.” he yawned when they were seated.

“You wanted to s-see me s-s-sir?” His voice stuttered along to his twitches.

“Yes, you used to travel outside? Can you take up the trips again?”

“Sure, but it'll take longer than before. S-s-since the truck broke down.”

“How long?”

“About 3 and a half days. Here and back. That's if the trail hasn't been r-r-ruined by the storm.”

“How long with a truck?”

“Only two hours.”

“Is the truck fixable?”

“No, since i-i-its axle was shot by hitting a log. Knoth had it stripped for parts. E-e-engines almost gone.”

“Fuckin- “ Blake took a deep breath. “Okay, walking it is. Are you the only traveler left?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you and I need to travel? Food, bandages, rope?”

“Mainly food and space to carry. What w-w-we need most though are weapons. Wildlife isn't the only problem. Heretics took over the east for a reason. I-i-i couldn't get past even if I wanted.”

Waylon felt sick again. “I get that.”

“Heretics are called goats now.” Marta corrected.

Jacobs' extremely confused look cleared by Blake's explanation. “They're not heretics and it seemed wrong to keep calling them that. Goats sounded a lot better and less anxiety inducing. Since they might block our path, what if we bring Marta?”

“That would keep them away, but w-w-what about Temple Gate? Everyone knows the here- goats. Don't come ‘cause of h-h-her.”

“We'll have to take the risk. It's been a month since you've last gone. The generator must be running on fumes by now.”

“Two months. We've only gotten the gas to last this long by disconnecting chunks of Temple Gate. B-b-but like you said, its reaching fumes. Some gallons will buy us a couple days, but to fill it f-f-for even a week we need a truck to haul it back.”

“We got the cash to get a new truck. We get to town and from there we load up on what we need and travel back in a few hours. What do we need to travel?” Returning to the earlier question.

��A few meals each, the money, bandages for emergencies, some rope to climb over anything. Axes to chop firewood for camp. Warm clothing and something to sleep on.”

“Okay. Best if we have James come along. We'll be buying seeds to get farming up and running again. What I also want most are more meds. Knoths “study aids”, can you still get them?”

“Should be able. Doctor didn't say anything about leaving. He's gotta be w-w-wondering where his favorite patient is.”

“Right, Wait here and I'll gather everything up.” He stood, followed by Marta to fetch supplies and James for the journey.

Spreading the message of the renamed heretics earning Blake looks. like he was the crazy one in this town. Must be if I'm trying to run it. Goats, how fucking stupid. Could've named them something normal. Neighbors would have been easier. Guess the ridiculousness of it is working. Can't be too scared of a man eating group of “goats” on the mountain. Meeting up with James to pass along their plans. Scavenging the pantry for a few “meals” to pack. Rope coiled up in a bag along with bandages packed into Blake's vest. Blake packed as much money as he could into a backpack he found. Gathered back around Jacob he double checked what they packed for approval. Given the go ahead they readied to leave.

“Most of the journeys gonna be rough up and over the mountain. P-p-past that it's easier when we reach flat land.” Jacob pointed in the direction they would head for.

They didn't make it out of town when John came running up. Looking like he had a rough night's sleep. “You're going outside? And you're taking Marta with you? Why, shouldn't she stay here? What about the heretics?! - Ah fuckin- goats, whatever!”

“We have to reach the outside. Three of us wouldn't last if we're swarmed by them.”

“But the whole town will be swarmed instead. Take me instead.”

“Why?”

“I've traveled all over there to hunt, back around when the goats broke off. I can sneak you by without any trouble and Marta can stay to keep the town safe. Is there really a point to this if you come back to all us strung up?”

Blake didn't have a chance to answer. Marta interrupted with an alert he never wanted to hear. “Val's here.”

“What?!” Looking up at the women tall enough to gaze over the obstructions beside them. “Where?!” After she pointed he ran down the line of blockages to see for himself. Not having the eagle vision Marta had it took him longer to spot Val. Catching the speck of her golden hair at the tree line. Standing to watch the town with her head turning back and forth between its ends. He couldn't see anyone else with her, yet they could have just been hiding back in the thick shrubbery. At the appearance of Marta stepping into the open, Val locked her gaze on her. Stepping back to disappear between the trees.

“See?! She's already looking at how to take this place down!” Shifting his stiff shoulders the more frantic he turned.

Blake heard John shouting, but hardly took in the words. Mind racing on its options. Val would see who left the town. If Marta stayed, Temple Gate would be safe, but he would be an easy target. Despite John's earlier offering to navigate the land by sneaking. Marta may scare them off, but he preferred they all run. Marta's limp coming to the front as a problem causer. Harder to run, defend, and move over rough terrain. If Blake was going to take care of this town he had to make sure everyone stayed safe. “Marta will stay here. We'll sneak by the mountain.”

John looked relieved by his answer. “Thank you, sir.”

Marta stomped on the conversation. “You sure about that? Can he really get you by?”

“Town has to stay safe and you call too much attention. Yeah I'm sure.” Looking to the rest. “Now let's hurry. I rather disappear before Val notices we're leaving.”

One last look given to Temple Gates town sign as they passed. Out of town the sky was filled by gray clouds. Rain falling over them before their journey got anywhere out of Templegates view. “Well.” James started. “Gonna be a lot harder to follow our tracks.” Rain filling them with water. Mini streams flowing down hill sweeping away the rest.

“No bears will sniff us out either.” Jacob added.

“There are bears here?” Blake's concern rising.

“N-n-not for a long while. Haven't seen anything bigger than fat raccoon's.”

John grabbed onto a log to help hoist the others up. “If only they were actually fat. Would be a good meal, but it's all fluff.”

“A scrawny meals better than nothin’. Though I'd love to have steak a-a-again. Wouldn't care if I had to chew on it like leather.”

“Best I can do is a squirrel around here. Gotta beat the things to make the stringiness less of a chew.”

James grumbled at the two of them. “Can you both stop talkin' 'bout food. Least not 'till after we've caught some.”

“That's a ways away, old man.” John joked.

Blake after being helped up next glanced back down hill toward the engorged river rushing by. “Hey, we won't have any trouble with the river will we?”

“Shouldn't, we won't be crossing it f-f-from here on. Most we have to worry about is catching a sickness in this weather.”

“Hope it won't rain the entire way.”

“Heh, don't know how good y-y-your luck is. Mine's shit, heh.”

“And you're the one leading?”

“Not at all. That's John's job for the first few miles. If we die you can b-b-blame him. Heh.”

“Fuck off.” John smiled at Jacob. “We won't die long as-” He went quiet at the loud sound of crackling. Head shooting up to watch the tops of distant trees. One by one they sloped down as the loud snapping approached them. Blake, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, turned to see the mountain side sloping away. Whole adult trees that were on their path rode down on moving earth. Those same trees collapsing down on each other to loudly snap themselves to pieces. Grinded down into the earth to make a blended mud sludge. “Run that way!” John pointed toward a more stable land.

Each of them bolted off toward a part not sliding out from under their feet. Clambering over everything that was also on the move. Avoiding trees collapsing in a massive wave of mud. They leapt off a log to a safer part of land, however Blake didn't have the same luck. The whole log shoved away by the mudslide he slipped to almost roll off it. He was forced to claw into the log free floating down the mountain. His traveling companions shrank in the distance, unable to keep up. Unable to see them anymore he turned to where the log was going. All the land flying off a cliff edge to slam down into the violent rapids flushed by the heavy rain. He flinched when it was his turn next. When the log hit it spun under the water to toss Blake off into the wild stream. Disoriented, he tried figuring out where the surface was. Spinning uncontrollably in the rapids below the surface. Water pitch black from mud not helped by the many logs rolling around. Bashing into the rocky river bed the air escaped his lungs. Knocked over debris one after another he somehow managed to be knocked to the surface. Clawing into a soaken slick log for dear life. Hacking painfully for air until he was spun back under. Tossed in and out repeatedly he was losing the energy to fight.

Hacking his lungs out on another log while the stream settled. Knocked around more by piling debris rather than rapids at this point. Closing in on a rocky shore line he clawed his way across multiple logs. Reaching land he struggled to get further up on it slipping under him. Its angle extra cruel on his battered body crawling up it to a flat ridge. He laid wheezing in the mud too tired to rise. Shivering soaking wet he shut his eyes meaning to do it briefly. Waking instead what seemed like hours later. Beaten almost to death he was tempted to go back to sleep. Rising enough to wipe his glasses clear he moved to stand. Feeling immense pain from his leg he looked back. A large chunk of a branch speared down the side of his lower leg.

“Fucking, shit. My fucking luck.” Reaching back for it at first then swiftly retracting his hand. “can't yank it out. Can I keep it in though?” His blood pouring from the wound had him look away. Prepared for the pain he forced himself up. Growling through grit teeth he leaned against a nearby tree to recover. Searching for some-sort of recognizable marker. He couldn't see Temple Gate anymore and the mountains all looked the same. No idea where the others were he was left alone. “Fuck me.” He cursed again. Reaching into his vest for a roll of gauze. “Better than nothing I guess.” Wrapping up his bleeding wound. Trying to at least slow it despite the branch sticking out. Okay. Checking around without a clue on what to do.

“John?” He shouted and waited for an answer. Nothing, he shouted again. Hacking out his stinging lungs he almost vomited. Managing to keep everything down he held off on more shouting. Maybe I can get some place high and find a land marker? Limping forward he forced himself up the steep hillside. A lot farther than what he expected to make on his leg. Resting on a flat area he regretted committing to this. His leg felt both on fire and numb. This is worse than when I was actually on fire. Leaning over to catch up on his energy. Pushing on to make it up a scraggly cliff area he feared slipping off of. One tumble and I might end up back in the river. Or shredded on those rocks. Adjusting his soaken backpack full of cash to stay secure the further up he went.

Resting again at another flat top covered in soaked grass. Patch becoming extremely tempting as a place to fall asleep again. Hearing the underbrush rustling he shot up straight. “John?” Locking up at the sight of a stranger staring wide eyed at Blake's appearance. He was tall and covered by crossing scars. Black Hair cut neatly short parted by more scarring. A big dip marking half his lower jaw like a chunk was ripped away. His vibrant green eyes stood out from the dark circles surrounding them. What was most alarming was his covering of clay and leafage for camouflage. This was definitely a heretic and that meant Val wouldn't be far. The stranger looked away back down his path before finding Blake. Whipping their attention back toward him, locking an intense stare. Body stiffened with both hands tightened to fists. Pure rage filled his eyes moments before he ran out to slam into Blake.

“Fuck! Get off me!” Blake shouted in trying to shove the other off after having the wind knocked out of him. Kicking the other in the gut he fought the stunned other back to their feet. Punches traded between the two until Blake was slammed into a boulder. Swearing he felt something crack his body locked up in pain. Yanked around to be slammed back into the dirt he thrashed to get away. Clawing into the others arms choking him into the dirt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was what Blake's mind repeated. Unable to think much else on the lack of air.

“What are you doing?!” He heard a voice shout out of view. It distracted the other enough for Blake to hoist his legs up. Shocked that he managed to throw them both off a cliff edge he didn't realize was so close. Their fall short, down onto the rocks below. Last thing Blake experienced was hearing a thwack at the bottom then darkness.

A pulse in his head drumming along to a thumping migraine was his wake up greeting. Tuning in on someone roaring a bunch of words. “- TO STAY ALIVE! NOW LOOK AT HIM!” Blake squinted an eye open. He was laying on his side at the bottom of the short cliff area. Surrounded by rocks, some coated red in blood. Two blurry forms coming to focus. One had another slammed up against the cliff side. Verbally ripping into them by their scolding shouts. “- YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” He heard them seethe through their teeth. Shoving the other down. “Pick him up, we're taking him to the cave.” When they turned toward Blake his vision cleared enough to see who it was before him.

VAL?! His mind screamed. His eyes shooting open yanked her attention toward him. Caught off guard by him suddenly waking, she didn't have a chance to give orders. He jumped up from his laying position. Someone must've been leaning over him, because when he did he slammed his head into someone's jaw. The clack of their teeth together rattled down through his skull. Knocking whoever it was back into others nearby. Shoving the rest of himself up he ran back down the hillside he worked so hard to climb.

He heard Val shouting orders not far behind him. “Grab him!” Sounds of separating plants catching up behind him.

“Fuck, fuck, shit!” He let out a chain of panicked curses. Coughing again worsened his wheezing. Hating that his leg was burning and now his lungs were too. Can't stop, can't stop! Mind repeating simple thoughts of escape. Half tempted to jump back into the river where Val couldn't follow. He certainly couldn't out run her with how injured he was. Weighing his chances he headed for the river. Prepared to jump in when he heard a familiar terrifying sound. A howling yell from a raging Marta. Blake, out of old reflex, almost fled back. Forcing himself to rush forward in knowing it was now something safe. When they saw her appear up the bank. Blake collapsed down into an exhausted heap past her. Catching sight of Val slamming herself back into the dirt to stop before Marta. Ripping up the loose dirt under her heels in the process. Scrambling back up away from Marta moving in on her. The other heretics scurried away in various directions. When they were out of sight Marta turned to check on Blake.

“Are you well?”

Blake wheezed, unable to answer from his seated position. Everything catching up he hacked until he vomited what liquid was in his stomach. Fighting to not black out as Marta stood guard over him. “How?” He breathed out.

“I was watching you pass the mountain until the mudslide took you away. When those idiots separated to search I didn't trust them to find you. Came upon Val shouting so much he must've caught you.”

He still couldn't speak, merely nodding to show he heard.

“What happened to your leg?”

He looked down, fearful that he messed it up worse in all that sudden running. Taken aback by his leg having been treated. The branch gone, his wound packed over by a dark green poultice then wrapped in clean gauze. Checking his vest he found another bundle of gauze missing. They fixed my leg? Guess they just wanted all of me to make it back. My dead body wouldn't be too fun to keep prisoner. “Mudslide.” Was his best answer for now.

“Blake?” He heard a familiar voice. John approached down along the river. “What happened, are you okay?!”

“Damned goats almost got him.” Marta answered for him.

“Ugh, can we please call them something else.” Mumbling up to the two. “What about his leg?”

“Mudslide.”

“Can you get up at all?”

Blake shook his head. Marta continued to speak for him. “I wouldn't force him up for a few hours. Maybe not 'till tomorrow.”

“Okay, that's for the best just by lookin' at you. I'm gonna go back out and find the boys. If I don't, I'll return to set us up a camp.”

“Watch out for goats.” Marta warned, smirking at the ridiculous label. Blake would've chuckled if he had the spare air to.

“Can we please call them something else.” John whined again.

Blake thought a bit harder for a name. Remembering a certain book he read that fit the heretics' views. Going against religious suppression and wanting freedom. “Voltaire's?” Catching his breath again. “Big author, argued for freedom against church.” He surprisingly wheezed out in one go. Was also a really good band. He thought back to his school days listening to their music.

“Good enough.” John went off to search.

A few hours passed by the time he returned with the others. Able to get up on his feet they walked Blake from the area. Expecting the Voltaire's to make a night visit if they stuck around. A campfire was made with everyone popping open a can of food for dinner.

“Good news is we got far today. We're already on the other side of Voltaire mountain.” John spooned out some more chili.

“Not far enough, still gotta cross the rest of the mountain range. That'll take m-m-most the day for us. We won't make it outside 'till nightfall. We'll have to wait for stores to open next morning if its t-t-too late.”

“If we manage to get a truck the return journey won't be as long at least. You think the doctors still around?”

“Didn't hear anything about him leaving last I was there.”

“Where is he? Down a back alley?”

Jacob shook his head. “He's in a small doctors office. All legally set up, for the most part. When you go in you say you have a prescription and h-h-hand a piece with our symbol scribbled on it.” Flashing a small bit of tanned hide with the cross entwined by circles branded on. “Doctor takes us in back for business.”

Blake continued to ask questions. Wanting to know how everything would go down. How the doctor himself acted. Whether or not he seemed to be a real doctor at all or a scam artist in a white coat. What he was told by Jacob settled his worry's. The doctor has an honest-ish job. A legal place with all the proper paperwork to back it up if inspectors came knocking. He was just greedy for money and saw more business selling pills out back. Done talking for now they rested down against their bags. Marta stayed up to guard until morning.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 6 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 4

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: CH 3: Atonement

Next chap: CH 5: Deluge

_____________________________________

~Ch:4 Eucharist~

Blake handed out basic orders to everyone else. “Fix what you can. Gather up everything that could be useful.” They spread from him down the town streets. Some fixing their own houses that collapsed from the major storm. Gathering chunks of metal buried partly in the mud. Barbwire taken down wherever it remained tied.

He went out to find the farmers followed by Marta. They were working on gathering what they could. Hanging the cobs looking mostly dark. A few rotten tomatoes on a table having its seeds plucked out. A few sacks of potatoes covered in fresh roots set aside. Approaching James to check in. “How are things going?”

“Better than first expected. Scoured the fields and found all of that left in the dirt.” waving the knife he was using toward the collected stuff. Using the blade to scrape out more seeds from mushy tomatoes. “The potatoes were at the back of the barn regrowin' on their own. We can plant them right away if you want?”

“Uh. … What do you use to water all of this? The lake and river?”

“River only, why?”

“I don't know if it's poisoned or not. There were a lot of dead fish when I crossed the lake.”

“Yeah, we worried about that. Many of us noticed it depends on which part you were at. Down round the main river the mines leached out to it. Spreading further into the lake. Anybody who drank from there suffered some serious illness. Us, meanwhile on the split river creek did fine. Long as you didn't eat the fish jumping up and down river rapids in between.”

“So the creeks fine, but fish aren't?”

“We can strictly take northern river water and be safe. Otherwise there ain't much more we can do. Canned food we can live off of a little while longer. Have to mention though that our pantries are gettin' tight. Something Knoth always made a point of not mattering.” James repeatedly side eyed Marta for a reaction. faking the priest's voice next. “ “Ignore your empty bellies for soon we'll be feasting off God's harvest in heaven.”. ” Dropping the act. “I think he sang a different tune in private.”

“True. Can't live strictly off hunting for forever. Sounds like you didn't have the same faith.”

“Hard to after a while.” Watching Marta. “Faith works like food. Can be good for ya or bad. With Knoth we had a black moldy loaf of bread. Starved, we ate in the hopes it'd kill the pains. Deep down I think we all knew it only made things worse. Made us sick from the inside out. Might take some longer than others to see it. This place used to be better, not so rotten, although I admit it still had its dark spots that we ignored. I pray from here we can get better.”

Blake breathed out a “Yeah.” Telling James to plant the potatoes despite the concern about their water. Asking next. “What's with all the tall fences and barbed wire?” Didn't know you could put corn in a max security prison.

“Couple reasons, Thieves or escapees. Certain people ate first and the rest got desperate for scraps.”

“Mm, I don't think it's necessary anymore. Break them down If you have some free time.” Finishing his check in. Passing through town to try and find the group of hunters. Wanting to learn himself how to trap and forage. Marta limping beside him had him think of what she should be doing. Can't be an enforcer anymore, shouldn't have been in the first place. I guess every town needs a sheriff to break up disputes though. Won't have to kill anyone, she's intimidating enough to stop people from fighting. But her limp could drag her down if things get serious. Feeling bad that she was limping to follow him everywhere. “You don't have to come. You can rest at home if that's better for you.”

“No.” she stated then spoke out what sounded like an excuse. “I won't miss the word of a visiting Angel.”

“I'm not- … What if the angel tells you to go home?”

She let out a rough hum. “... Then I'll go home.”

“Then go home.” He stopped and so did she.

An annoyed bible verse mumbled before she asked. “What will you be doing?”

“Learn how to trap and forage until the day ends. I'll come back and maybe we'll all get to eat something that's not canned. Go home and rest your ankle.”

“It's fine, I can still move.”

“You shouldn't be walking on it. I'm ordering you to go rest.” Smiling at her mumbled along verses when turning to leave. Splitting with one heading up the mountain and the other down. Traveling around the forest while keeping Temple Gate insight he found the group of hunters. Gathering around a cluster of berry bushes. Listening to John explain trapping while they worked. Blake was greeted as he joined in. Caught up to where they were in the lesson. Reported to on where rabbit wires were set in the hopes they'd snag something. Based on how many baskets of berries they collected he hoped everyone would get at least a small bowl's worth. Having some luck with the rabbit wires. Not enough for everyone between the small numbers caught. It turned into a topic of who would get some.

John stated what felt like the obvious. “You should take one.”

“No, there are a lot worse than me.” Wish I could feed everyone with a single rabbit. “Think we'll find anything else today?” taking in the sun approaching the horizon.

“Maybe, up on the mountain side we used to find a ton of edible plants. Wild onions to carrots were up there. Don't know how much we'll find now. Since heretics were running rampant all through these woods.”

Blake nearly choked on his spit at the mention. “You think we'll see any?”

“I'm sure we won't. This is considered a bit far from where they normally spread out. Long as we keep heading west toward the sun set.”

“Mm. … If we do find anything we could try and make a soup. Boil everything in a big pot, if we have one. Keep starvation back for a day.”

“Sounds good. I know a lot of leafy greens that should be up there. Not as filling as actual vegetables, but good for now. … What will you do about the heretics?”

“... I don't know. … Feels weird calling them heretics still. They were just people who wanted to escape Knoth.” Stomach churning on the topic. “I rather not get involved unless I have to.” Ending the topic there to press forward up the mountain. Collecting various edible plants that satisfied Blake's needs for a soup. No carrots, but they found onions along with a collection of mushrooms on a tree. Their group took a break at the mountain's top to eat a small collection of edible flowers. Some weren't flavorful while some were a bit sour like lemons. Blake winced at his shoved down handful making him drool excessively. Unsure if chewing them of flavor felt better compared to harshly swallowing early. At least he caused others to chuckle at his ridiculous eating. Happy to have a little something in his stomach after so long. “Think we'll make it back by nightfall?”

“Just about.” John partly covered his eyes to see how low the sun was set. “Dinners gonna be late by the time we finish cooking it.” Carving bits out of a branch making the rough shape of a fox.

“Heh, I used to carve stuff like that. Haven't since I left scho-” His happy memory ruined by another. Jessica. ... I should have carved a rock for her too. Even if it's been years. By the change in Blake's expression John offered him the small carving knife.

“You can have it if you want. They're easy to make.”

“You sure?” He perked up at the small gift.

“Yeah, got five more at home. I lose them constantly.”

“Thanks.” He glanced around him for something to carve. I could make something to place at the graves. Locking onto a dead looking sapling sticking straight from the ground. Its measly branches bare of any leaves with its bark sun bleached white. Tall yet thin enough to fully grasp with a hand. Should be easy enough to take a chunk off. Grabbing onto the whole thing to yank back. Discovering it to be far sturdier than it looked. Shoving it back and forth to yank its roots free.

“Uh, I could find you some wood?” John offered. Watching Blake continue to struggle against the dead sapling.

“No, I'm not letting this tree win.” Blake joked through his fight. Ripping it enough to pop it free of the earth. Coming out with it was a smooth rock the sapling grew around. “Wow.” he turned it over for a closer look. No wonder it was so sturdy. Dirt brushed away from the roots thick as its own branches. Taking in the whole thing he was excited to start carving. Wanting to spare a lot of it with only a few extra twigs shaved off its branched top. Woodworking was one of the few classes he loved and was exceptionally well at. He cleaned the sapling of any sprouting branches down to a long straight shape. Smaller stringy roots snipped away for a cleaner look. Preserving the smooth rock it had attached itself to. Carving the rough shape of a snake winding down its long length. The head of it coiled just under the rock in a winded back position. Threatening to strike out from under the rock. That was as far as he got before they started to head back. Blake worked hard to carefully carve out the criss crossing scales down the serpent.

Forced to stop when it got too dark to work. Pausing for the moment when they returned to the dining hall. Setting up a whole makeshift process to cook dinner for a mass of starving people. Huge pots gathered to cook chunks of prepared rabbit followed by the various veg. Collected baskets of berry's delicately spread out by the cupful. If there were any extras they'd be put aside for tomorrow. The town was gathered in to be lined up for their dinner. Pots brought out to a bar top outside the kitchen doors for soup to be poured into bowls. Given a cup of berries as a strange side of sorts, but nobody was complaining.

Blake skipped eating for now to finish his carving in the kitchen. Off to the side was a small carved out dove. A fake banner around its neck donning the name Jessica. He planned to place it soon on the stone graves. Smoothing out the last few angles of the rattlesnake currently. Smiling over his finished staff of white turned black surrounding the stone still attached. Its shape resembled a bulky hammer that would surely kill someone if slammed down hard enough. various open areas between the snake lightly carved to show imprints of leafy ground litter. Satisfied that no more needed to be done he left the kitchen to find Marta. Asking around he found out she finished eating a while ago and was back on patrol. He ignored any offerings of food to take before going back out. Wanting to give the walking staff to her soon as possible. Running around in the dark for her going by vague memories of her patrol. Eventually she found him first, leaning against a building to catch his breath.

“Come to find me, Angel?”

“Yes, and you don't have to call me that. Blake's fine.” Wheezing for more air. “Made you this.” Offering her the walking staff. She inspected it up and down without a move to take it. In fact she leaned away from it. Realizing he'd have to do some convincing. “I thought you would need it to walk. It's lighter than the … Last thing. ... Pretty sure with the rock you could still crack a skull.” Based on her negative reaction he was quick to follow up with. “But I saw it more of a defense thing. Better to have and not need than the other way. Everything's fine now, but if anybody needed saving I'm sure you can do it. I promise that I'll never ask you to kill anyone.”

Given an honest promise she took the staff from him. A soft spoken. “Thank you.” given back.

“Welcome.” Turning to visit the child's graves next.

“You want me to watch the streets tonight?” Using the staff to walk more smoothly by his side.

“Well, you don't have to. If people want to run they can.”

“What about the heretics?”

“... Yeah. Keep an eye out. Just scare them away, you don't have to hurt them. … Should stop calling them heretics too.” Delicately placing Jessica's white dove between some stones across the grave site.

“Then what are they?”

He walked silent as he thought of a new term. Can't call them outsiders. I didn't like that when Knoth used it against me. Strangers? But they're not really. Could call them survivors, but isn't everyone? Just use them or people, but if we need to talk about them it could get confusing. Them just seems rude and ostracizing. Developing a headache from the running in circles he was doing. Settled on a label he himself thought was stupid, but felt right. “Goats.”

“Goats?” Marta's brows furrowed. “Why that?”

“It sounds better that the mountains are infested by goats then heretics.”

“What shall goats be called then when differentiating?”

“They'll be heretics.” Letting out a light chuckle. Marta let out an amused puff of air while giving him a questioning look. It was the first time he didn't see Marta so depressingly serious.

“If that's what the angel wants. I'll watch out for visits by “Goats”.”

“Make sure you get some sleep.”

“More plans for tomorrow?”

“Nothing like today. More rebuilding, more hunting for food.” Entering the dining hall to collect his serving. Long cold by now from when it was set aside. “It takes so long to gather everyone. I don't want to interrupt things so often.”

“The speaker horns still work after the storm. I can see the green light out the room's window. It was the best way for word to travel without physically doing so.”

Ugh, then I have to use something Knoth touched. Finishing his small meal. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Leading him off toward a large two story house. Neighboring the compound near the helicopter crash site. Fully white with pillars lining the front with a second story balcony. The two front doors boarded over where the glass panels were broken out. A green light shown through a front lower window. Blake checked the doors and found them unlocked. Stepping through he saw the insides far more decorated then other places. Nice large rugs covering the floors. Many paintings covering walls blocked by fine carvings and vases.

Stepping to the radio room he saw Marta staying back outside. “Not coming?”

“This was Knoths home.”

Of course it is. “Oh. … Well, he's not here anymore.” Coaxing her to step inside. Waiting for her to duck under the doorway before moving deeper inside. Taking in the long set up radio controls. Most he figured out were to alert what was connected and what wasn't. The ones on were green, but many more were blacked out. “Do you know where “Eastern top road” is?”

“A road leading up toward goat infested forest.”

“Makes sense.” other unlit labels saying eastern this or that. John said the goats were spreading out around there. Pressing a button that was labeled “talk”. “Testing.” his voice heard loud and clear from outside. “Heh, still works.” His smile dropped when he found an orange medicine bottle sitting out not far. Swiping it to read the label. Prescribed to Ethel Garrison. Penicillin G Benzathine - (100mg) to be taken twice daily for 14 days. Hmm, still in date. Must've bought these from someone recently. Pouring himself a couple to swallow down dry. “We need to find more of these.” Holding the bottle up for Marta to see.

“... Those aren't study aids, are they?”

“No, They're antibiotics for all the diseases around here. I said he could've helped the scalled at any time. These are how.” Rattling the bottle before setting it in a pocket on his vest. Facing her, she had a burning glare pointed toward the floor. “Did you know?”

“None were allowed to ask, but still others spoke about- ... I was told to quiet them. …”

“How'd people know? A guess?”

“Us who are older once lived on the outside. Convinced by Knoth and rejected by others, we followed him en masse. 'till we settled here. I was far younger then.”

“You've been outside? How long ago?”

“Mm.” she hummed in thought. “'Bout more than 40 years past since.”

“That's - that's a while.” he nervously chuckled. “Has anyone been out recently?”

“Jacob has. His last visit may have been a month away now. He was sent out to lead a small group for buyin’ a list. Stuff we couldn't make like gas for the generator, “study aids”, to name a few. Don't remember seein' his fellow travelers around.”

“We'll have to find him tomorrow. It's time for another trip.” Leaving the radio room to snoop around the place. Drawers filled by many other bottles left empty. More canned food Blake noted to take back when done. Upstairs he found an office covered in drafts of his gospel. Swept away into the trash bin until it was over filled by Blake. Buried under a pile of fallen papers was a huge floor safe. “Whoa, wonder what Knoths got in here.” He grabbed an iron poker by the empty fireplace. Using it as a makeshift crowbar to stab along the sides. Managing to stab it in between the door to force it up. He could wedge it enough to see the door bending up, but not enough to break it. Even with him leaning his whole weight onto the bar.

“Want me to try?”

Blake couldn't answer through his wheezing, giving a tired head nod as he stepped back. Marta set her staff to the side to grip the poker. Slamming it down firmly with a shout that cracked the safe door free. Thrown back to slam into the floor behind it. The poker itself stuck dented in a curve tossed aside by her. Both peered down into the large hidden safe.

“Guess this solves one problem.” Pulling out a huge brick of cash. A quick flip told him it was indeed all hundred dollar bills. Laying down on the floor he dipped his head into the dark space. Surprised there was a ladder below buried in the pile. Counting the stacks sitting on stacks of hundreds then sitting back up to stand. “Without messing up the stacks I'm guessing there's at least 9 million on the surface alone. If this thing is six feet deep it might be closer to 27 million. When we find Jacob we'll take some of this and buy everything we can to get things running again.”

“Like what?”

“A shit ton of seeds for one. Fuel to keep the generator running.” Grabbing a nearby empty prescription bottle off a window sill. “And pills, a lot of them.”

“You planning to help the scalled?”

“What kind of angel would I be if I didn't?” Setting the bottle back. “I don't think there's anything else here. Meet me at the hall tomorrow. Bring Jacob if you find him.”

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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reddogf13 · 6 months

Text

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 3

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Previous chap: CH 2: Purgatory

Next chap: CH 4: Eucharist

_____________________________________

~Ch:3 Atonement~

When he heard Val had survived the massacre in the mines. Filled by a phantom lead his stomach dropped then readied to vomit. Heart stilled by the memory's of facing her that now could repeat in the future. She can't be alive. Refusing to believe it, Blake furrowed his brows. “How do you know?”

“He came hours after Knoths death to mock us all. Laughing beyond Templegates edge.” Marta sneered while repeating Val's words. “ “Our God didn't fuck the earth, but your Father fucked you all!”.”

Blake considered what to ask after Marta turned angrier around the topic. Choking down his ill stomach for the next question. “Why hasn't she tried to take over?”

“Knoths gone, but I'm still here. He knows not to test me.”

“Ah ... Yeah.” relieved at hearing Val wouldn't be coming to visit. Yet, how long would that last? Marta kept her back for now, but was it because Val didn't know of her injury yet? “... So, how'd they escape? Broke themselves free?”

“No, someone let them free when the fires broke. I don't know who, but I do know it must be someone around here. I didn't see anyone who wasn't suppose’ to be in Temple Gate that night. Only those free after the deed was done and I was too occupied by the fires to hunt them.”

“Great.” He breathed. So Val might know of Marta's injuries by now. Maybe she's injured too and only biding her time to take a crack at Temple Gate. He looked around at the ramshackle town. Already brought down so low when Knoth was around. Would it stand a chance if Val swarmed over it with a group of heretics? I guess it's not my problem. Tossing the thought aside. If only it didn't return shortly to nag him. Silenced fully when his stomach painfully growled. Remembering what he even came down for. Walking onward toward the great hall he first challenged Knoth at. Hoping that some scrap of food was inside when he arrived. Following behind him was Marta with a group lagging slightly behind to give her space.

Passing by the burnt church along the way. The group stopped to look down at the rotten body of Knoth. Shooting glares while one boldly spat on the corpse before they caught up to Blake. Regretting their choice when faced by Marta's ire. “What ungrateful-”

“Marta!” Blake's voice warned her back. She shot him an agitated look with clenching fists. Untensing on a few bible verses spoken. Others gave her a wide birth the entire time she chained out verses. Blake entered the grand hall through the front doors this time. Tall windows off to the left with an open ceiling showing large rafters. Passing by the long rows of dining tables with the higher stage at the back. A pair of double doors off to the right side grabbed Blake's attention. Walking around a large L shaped bar top he Opened them and found the large community kitchen. Noticing its age based on some appliances he was sure of being from the 70s or 80s. The fridges being more “modern” than the black iron stoves. Made to hold wood for cooking with similar black metal vents going into the ceiling. Whole place having not been used for a while based on the dust over everything. He assumed people didn't eat together, but in the privacy of their homes. Would be weird eating together with people who tried to kill you earlier. Turning back to the people still following. “Stay here. Sit down.” Lightly gesturing to the room. He didn't want them all trying to crowd in after him. The kitchen cramped enough with only a small walkway around the place.

He opened a few cabinets that only contained dishes. Moving to others full of various kitchen supplies like dish soap. Checking a small door he found what he was looking for, a pantry filled with canned foods. Grabbing a can of spam he winced a little at its best by date 15 years past. Reading similar expiration dates on every other can in there. Guess I'll be able to tell when I open it? Concerned that it would be rotten and tainted by a metallic flavor. Using a butter knife he popped open the lid. Inspecting the meat that had stayed fresh from what he could see. No strange smell or slime, although the flavor was lost to time. Tasting of nothing as he ate it plainly gripped in hand like a bread loaf. Working his way through the meal he took in the room to pass the time. Locking onto one of Knoths paintings of himself with a golden disk mimicking other holy prophet paintings. Losing his appetite in the room, Blake removed himself to head outside. Not wanting to even be in a building with one of Knoths depictions, he rather stand out by Marta. She stood outside staring off toward the burnt church with growing annoyance. Murmuring more bible verses or strips of Knoths gospel. He looked and saw a group gathered by the building causing his curiosity to grow. Heading over there he finished the bland spam to investigate the commotion.

The freed gathered around Knoths corpse to prod at it. Confirming to themselves personally that Knoth was indeed dead. Blake grimaced at the corpse laying out in the open. Hating to see his face even more now than when he was alive. Couldn't this town be rid of him already? Even In death he still lingers to torment people with his presence. Blake decided to do something about him. Shooing away some to clear the body he took the pick in his hands. Slamming it under the body to lean back in hooking it on. Wincing at the smell releasing from the bloated corpse. Others stepped back with a cover of their noses. A disgusting thick old blood mixed slime stretched from it to the dirt. Leaving a slick trail behind as Blake dragged him away from everything toward a ditch in the distance. Tossing him in finishing the first step he had lined up. Walking back to the grand hall he searched the cabinets for a small box full of matches. With that in hand he grabbed the painting of Knoth. Gathering similar depictions off the hall walls or framed on desks. Gospel papers crumpled in his grip to join the collected kindling. A pile forming over Knoth of all his monuments across Temple Gate. Many joined in, not only slaves, to toss their saved gospels. paintings, photos, personal letters to written down commands. It grew further as everyone hunted down the false idols to add. Marta showed her clear displeasure for what Blake was doing. Her mumbling of verses turned louder toward a normal speaking tone. Words traveling down the halls out the grand buildings doors she had hid inside. Blake, having heard her, followed the trailing verses back to her praying under a large chandelier in the middle of an empty meeting room.

He approached her side with still many items held under an arm. “You okay?” His voice calm when asking.

She stopped her uttering of verses to coldly look down upon him. “You took him from our holy town and now you wish to kill his memory. How much more will you take, Angel? When our faith is dead will you be satisfied? Or when our souls are reaped like his? They know not what they're doing. Betraying our Lord by turning away our prophets teachings. His gospel should be treasured for what it gave us. Are you happy about the ruin you bring us?”

“You're one to talk.” He huffed. “How many did Knoth have you kill? You blame me, but I didn't kill Knoth either really. What's going to make you happy? If Knoth returned right now and demanded you to kill, other than me, would you be happy then? Could you look down on those families who just reunited and say they deserve to die?” Marta's piercing stare faltered against his words. “You want to save Knoths teachings so bad? Then take it.” Holding out the dreaded pick to her. “Kill for him again.”

She flinched away from its form held toward her. Face losing what little color it had. Side eyeing the weapon she once wield as a righteous deliverer of justice. Now treated as a cursed object to be rejected at all cost. Shrinking back under its damning shadow falling over her.

“Knoths last command was to kill me. Will you? He knows you didn't like killing. Why couldn't he have done it himself? Because of his religious restrictions that he forced you to break? For everyone to break all these years. What did his gospel do for you, Marta? … Will you save it?” Arm tiring from the pick he set its end on the ground. Its weighted thud into the floor boards echoed around them. Sounding close to a gavel sending its judgment down on the guilty.

She hesitated to face him and the blade, her breath stolen in the moment. When it was regained she answered a shaken. “No.” Stepping back to leave deeper into the darkened half of the building. Acting as if being offered such a chance had directly struck down her soul. Requiring urgent healing care as far as possible from the black picks toxic presence.

He sighed at her retreat into the dark. I'll check on her later. Returning to the ditch now completely filled by all sorts of junk that merely mentioned Knoths name. Tossing in his arm full, he waited for any more stragglers to toss the last. Head facing one side down to the other of those gathered behind him. “Got all that we could?” The crowd agreed along with head nodding. “Alright.” Blake spoke with the strike of a match. Urged to say something while scowling down at all the imagery burying the one they depicted. “For what you've done. … An eternity in hell isn't enough.”

A burning match tossed down into the papers. It spread a fire from the inside out of the pile. When Blake walked off right after, so did everyone else. No one wanted to mourn that monster burning deep down in a pit. Along the way he saw so many other dead rotting out under the baking sun. Their smell caused Blake's eyes to water after almost gagging on it. “Fuck.” Lightly cursing his tugging heart to do something. He thought to burn them, it was the quickest way. Yet he didn't want to get rid of them the same way he did to Knoth. With how many there were, he would need a lot of help. Turning to the people he asked them to. “Fetch some shovels. We're making graves.” Thankful that they did what was asked. Many hours later a long mass grave had been made. Far too many body's to space out for proper single graves. Buried and covered by various stones that many scratched names into. Blake placed three of his own. One for Lynn and the other two for Ethan and his daughter. A depressing number of people killed over many years by Knoth now put to rest. Trees free of strung up bodies. Suicide victims taken out of homes. Freed of cages they weren't freed from in life. Untangled from barbed wire stringing them up on poles for scarecrows. The streets were far more empty, now that so much death was cleared.

Blake feared the next, and most deserving, to be put to rest. Entering the building whose floor was made up of burnt children. He quietly apologized to the small room. Knowing he walked across them to reach Lynn. This would require ginger care to move them all. Their body's burned together were carefully separated to be wrapped in white cloth. Bodies of others were already in wooden boxes lined up inside. Ready to be buried, but never were until now. Walked to a grave set under a large lone oak tree in an open field. Placed with them were flowers or toys the townspeople gathered. When it was done and filled in, it too was covered by various rocks with carved names. This funeral lasted longer than the others. Blake stood by respectfully until the last person left at sundown.

Passing by the people in town he saw in their eyes a presence of awe toward him, but also fear. After his interaction with Marta he studied the pick axe in his hands. He wasn't superstitious and was sure it wasn't cursed. He did see however, that it had a burden tied to it. Weighing down on Marta with each new kill under its blade. Its burden now tying itself to him in intimidating those around him. Same as all those gospel papers, he knew, this too had to go. Could he really say anyone was free while they were terrified of being killed? Either by him or if by chance Marta took it back. It would put him at risk to not have a weapon, but then what was the point? He keeps it and people stay obedient because they're scared of him, exactly as Knoth kept things. Sickened by that he almost abandoned it right then and there. Holding off on that, it needed a grander send off then being dropped in the dirt. If it were only so easy for everyone else. Take their burdens and toss it far away to make themselves free. Marinating on the thought he figured out a way they could. Returning to the patio of the grand hall he took a deep breath.

Shouting toward the first stars appearing, hoping all would hear him. “Tomorrow, grab an object. One that has meaning to you, but one you will not miss. Meet me here tomorrow.” Stepping inside to pass the few freed without homes.

He was stopped by one. “What if we have nothing?”

“A rock will do.” Picking something common that anyone could take. He headed through the back doors dead tired and beyond sore from digging those deep graves. Opening doors one by one to check their insides. Some offices, a cleaning closet then he found a storage space in the middle. Having a line up of basic cots, surrounded by storage shelving, he was thrilled to see the bedding unused by anyone. Judging off them being covered in a thick layer of dust that poofed off in a choking cloud. Before laying in bed he went to the door to lock it shut. Fearful at the thought someone would sneak in to strangle him to death. Soon as he laid down he was out until the following afternoon.

Slow to wake, but knowing he had something important planned he stretched. Popping multiple places along his spine when he hissed after his shoulder locked up. Still feeling that bruise marking his first day here, at least it was lighter than before. Sliding from the bed he looked down at the pick left on the floor. Tired again at the mere thought of picking it up again. I'll be glad when I'm rid of you. Hoisting it up into his hands. Unlocking the door he passed down the hall steps echoing along the whole way. Worrying that nobody heard him last night. That he'd need to go awkwardly knock on doors. Hope Templegates full of morning people. I don't want to get a knife to the head. But when he passed through the end door a smile twitched onto his face. The huge room full of people sitting at the tables talking to one another. Quieting down soon as they saw him enter. Blake stepped over to the small podium set at mid stage.

“Thank you for coming.” Gazing across the crowd of faces he saw one in particular was absent. “Stay here, I'll be right back. When I do, we'll head out.” He left the podium to search around the grand hall first. Unable to find her he went around the empty town. How do I lose someone who's seven fucking feet tall? Running into a few stragglers along the way. “Have you seen Marta?”

“In her chapel?” They pointed off toward a certain direction.

“Thank you.” Rushing off toward the tall building he was certain was the one. Arriving he came to a stop at the large front door. Knocking on it to announce his presence he received no answer. Opening the door it creaked loudly to announce his presence all the more. Right away he saw the tall woman sitting in a chair. The sunlight pooling in from behind him providing the only bit of light inside. She was sitting completely in the dark, slumped forward, exhausted, wearing a long face after crying not too long ago. “Marta?” He spoke softly. “I need you to come to the lake. Just for a little while, please.”

She glanced over to him, wincing at the sight of the pick in his hands. “I can't let the sun touch me. The Lord would not like it to shine on me.”

His head tilted down, knowing he wasn't always the best at cheering others. “I think he would.” giving it a try at least. “Especially today, it's very important you're there. I can help clear you of your sins.” He stood between the doorway, waiting. Unable to do this without her he'd stand there all day if he had to. Maybe the ceremony will happen at night then. Joking, but hoping that wouldn't be the case.

“Can you do that?”

“If I'm an angel, I can.” doing his best to give a reassuring smile. Judging from Marta's poker face he wasn't sure if it worked at first. Until, without a word, she stood to do what he asked of her. He saw the pain inside written all over her face and in how she acted. Keeping away from the object in his hands if it was motioned toward her. Lagging behind as he led the way back to the hall. Gathering the others onward to the lake in a large assembly.

“Gather along.” Gesturing down along the rocky shore. Questioning himself on if this was the best place or maybe a cliff. Least a cliff wouldn't smell like rotten fish, but too late now. Patiently he waited for the others to shuffle into place. Many fidgeted with small objects in their hands. Most appearing out of the chosen objects he saw were crosses. Golden sun beamed down on them from the clear blue sky. Lake looking far nicer than it was the last time he saw it. Not a dead fish in sight despite the lingering smell of them. Birds tweeting from far off tree lines on the other shore. “Marta.” He called forward from the crowd. Tapping a spot in front of him for her to stand. She didn't have an object, but she also didn't need one since Blake brought one for her. He stretched out the weapon in front of him, laid across his opened palms. “Take it.” Set out in offering it to Marta, who again flinched away from it. By the looks on peoples faces he could tell his request scared the crowd. Speaking softly to break their moment of nerves he repeated. “Take it. When you do, toss it as far as you can into the lake. When you toss it, it will take all your sins with it.”

Marta looked between him and the pick. Nervous about bringing her hands under it she twitched away at first like tapping hot iron. As he lowered it fully into her grasp she wasn't prepared for its weight, shifting herself to keep it hoisted up. He smiled at her then stood back to give her room. She looked down sorrowfully at it, then closed her eyes for a deep breath. Opening them again she leaned the offending weapon back till it tapped the shore to launch it swirling over the water. Appearance like a black disk before it slammed into the surface creating a huge splash. Sinking deeply into the lake's darkness never to be found again.

“Nice throw.” Complimenting her with a wave of the next person to come forward. Repeating the line he said before to them. “Throw it and let your sins go with it.” A line of people forming to toss all their selected items. People weighed down by their guilt uplifted when they committed their toss. Smiling between one another on the enlarging side throughout the ceremony. Watching the event go on, Blake dipped back into his thoughts. What will you do now? Nagging him that he had to keep this whole thing rolling. Everything's clean. People are happy for the most part. Stomach growling to nag him next about neglecting to eat since yesterday morning. Open another spam when I get back. Mm, can't live on that forever around here. First the spam then the rest will go. Does this place have any farms? There were corn fields, but I don't remember much on them. The livestock rotting won't be any good by now. Fuck, what do we have to work with? Maybe farming shouldn't be first. Turning his head toward the forest surrounding them. Some deer have to be out there or berry bushes. Make some traps for rabbits. Could we fish? Scanning the water. No chance. I don't know what happened to the water before with all the dead fish. Metal poisoning or a toxic algae bloom could be happening. Thinking back on the time him and Lynn reported a case of that on an ocean coast line. Warning people not to eat anything they caught for the next few weeks. Dead things from birds to big seals were washing up dead. He didn't know if it'd wash away in a lake like it would in open ocean. If I start to see fish that would be the first sign it's getting better at least. Still I wont take a sip until it's tested for metal. … Were people drinking from this? Were they using the water for farms? Crap, didn't think about that. Cant farm without a major water source for it all. Okay, let's keep all this simple. Hunting and gathering. Figure out the rest later. … Wait, does this make me the mayor now? Can I run a town? Can I run this town? Thoughts running off on their own throughout the ceremony.

Sun lowering from its tall noon stature by the time the ceremony was complete. People smiling while they talked to one another. Marta kept a blank face while she leaned against a leafless tree under the sun. Her changes a lot more subtle than everyone else's. Breathing easier under the sun she hid from earlier. Blake didn't want to interrupt the truly happy moment these people had, but he needed to find out more. Specifically if there were any farmers left to work.

Approaching the group he cleared his throat to catch their attention. “Any of you farmers?” The townspeople looked between all of them. Shaking their heads when he looked to a few. His heart sank the longer there was no positive answer. Giving up he turned to teaching how to farm himself as the go to. Saved from that when one older man stepped forward through the parting crowd.

“I am.” He was mid 60s, partly balding with darker hair. A big scar crossed diagonally over his face to split a part of his lip and one eyebrow. “Most of us who worked the fields ain't around no more. It's just me now.”

“Can you teach others how?”

“Sure.”

“Good, what's your name?”

“James, sir.”

“Do you know the fields around here?”

“Yeah, but ain't much. About all our fields are dirt. Knoth told us not to bother replanting since … Well.” shifting his shoulders. “Only corn stalks that have been picked clean by now. The bad ones were left behind.”

“Can you start planting again?”

“Naw, not a speck of seeds or grain in our barn. I can grab what's left of those inedible cobs for corn seeds. But that next harvest can't be planted 'till April at the soonest.”

Damn, that's months away. Octobers only halfway now. “Okay, start collecting as much as you can along with whatever else you can find. Take as many people as you need to help you out.” Worried about the water supply he added. “Don't plant anything yet though.” Sending the farmer off who took along five people with him. Blake faced back to the crowd. “Any of you hunters?” Happy to get a faster response.

A slightly younger man around 40s with dark hair. Face covered in many small scars that parted what short dark stubble was on his face. “My names John, sir. I used to go out on regular hunting trips.”

“Perfect. I think we're going to need you a lot right now. Any more work with you? Can you train others?”

“A few of us. My son and a couple men. I can train more starting on basic traps.”

“Great, know how to forage too?”

“Yes sir, now's the best time for berry's before they go away.”

“Okay, same as I told James. Collect as much as you can and take as many people as you need. I want to save canned food as much as possible. Come back with what you've gotten at the end of the day.” Announcing to the crowd. “Only eat canned if there's not enough fresh food to go around.”

“Umm.” John nervously said before quieting.

“Yes?” He asked carefully to not scare John quiet. Knoth I'm guessing didn't like to hear any “but's.” Have to make sure nothing slips by because of that.

“I don't have any equipment to hunt bigger things. I can set traps for rabbits and forage, but that's 'bout it.”

“That's fine. Catch or gather whatever you can. We're all starting from the bottom.”

“Yes sir.” John dipped his head before heading off collecting his mentioned three and twelve others.

Blake took in a deep breath of air. Foods being worked on. Time to start rebuilding.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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