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God is watching.
Joseph’s eyes are mesmerizing as always, and the Deputy allows herself to become lost in them as she mulls her options. She knows she’s running out of time, is all too aware of her comrades kneeling helplessly behind her, Cougars and Whitetails and rebels across the county, desperately hoping and depending on her. Always on her.
Maybe it’s ignorant, or naïve- two words she’d never wanted applied to herself, the very reason she’d decided to go to Academy in the first place- but she genuinely believes that if she were to turn now, collect her friends and walk away, Joseph would let her. He’s a psychopathic sonufabitch, but he keeps his word. She knows this about him.
But she knows herself, too, and the Deputy could never leave this county to his mercy, or whatever it is he thinks passes for it. She, too, grew up in Hope County, saw how insidiously the cult was able to draw people into their clutches- whispering threats of Pestilence, Famine, War, all manners of Biblical comeuppance before quickly soothing with promises of protection- if, of course, they are willing to pledge their life, soul, and material wealth to the Seed family.
No, the Deputy wouldn’t be able to leave. And she’d probably get herself killed for it. Better to just cut out the middle step.
But can she make that decision for Hudson, for Pratt? For all the innocents still trying to muck out a life in this godforsaken hellhole? As long as she’s been making choices in this fucked up game of chess, she’s been choosing wrong. Her choices have gotten people killed. Gotten Eli killed.
The twittering of a bird, hilariously out of place, draws the Deputy out of her musing. Perhaps two seconds have passed, and she refocuses on Joseph’s too-vibrant eyes. She didn’t choose to become the guardian of these people, their savior, but here she is. And she’ll keep fighting for them. Maybe not every problem can be solved with a bullet, but this one can be.
You know what to do, Rook.
The Deputy reaches for her handcuffs.