Chapter Text
Gunshot exchanges with Bellweather soldiers had become somewhat of a routine. Jake always wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, so he always waited until they opened fire. In his mind, he hoped that at least one of them would have enough uncorrupted reason left not to shoot at the guy who was dealing with the vampire situation.
So far they'd all disappointed him, making him waste medpacks, and earning him a judgmental glare from his raven. He could have sworn he’d heard him call him 'stupid man' on one occasion, before flying into the melee to mark his targets.
This encounter with Bellwether was no different, with the added bonus of there being a bridge between him and them. He had the range; they didn't have the flexibility.
"Cultists," the raven croaked, taking off from Jacob's shoulder, and making his rifle waver for the briefest of moments.
"Can you or can you not talk?" He muttered in response.
He took a shot at an engineer, which would have hit had the raven not decided to plonk back onto his shoulder at that exact moment.
"Go on then," he angrily gestured towards the other end of the bridge, "make yourself useful."
The bird flew off, reaching the targets within a few wing-flaps. A group of cultists had surrounded the soldiers and were waiting for their bloodsucking support to move in.
Jake moved the barrel of his rifle from the soldiers to the cultists. Not letting them have the first move and the element of surprise, he opened fire. One of the less dense soldiers picked up on what was going on, and soon all of their guns were turned towards the cultists.
The raven silently returned to his owner, and croaked, satisfied.
"It's not over yet," Jake replied.
He took a deep breath, and his empty eye socket filled with unnatural energy. Heartstopper appeared in his hands. Aiming the oversized gun at the vampires, of which there were now three, he fired. He let the magic, or whatever it was that imposed rules upon his weapon, guide him, as the gun moved from one target to the next, always piercing through their skulls.
The magic wore off around the same time as Bellweather finished dealing with the cultists. Jake quickly reloaded his regular, non-magical sniper rifle, ready to return fire.
To his greatest surprise, what came instead was a voice, magnified by a megaphone:
"Jake? Jayson Boyer? Is that you? No one else shoots like that."
Jake lowered his gun but did not emerge from behind cover or reply.
"It's me, Stan. Stanley White. We worked together on -"
"Yeah, I remember," Jake shouted in reply.
Revealing his position might not have been the smartest move, as confirmed by the side glance his raven gave him, but hearing a friendly voice, one that didn't want him to go fetch one thing or the other, made him let his guard down.
The megaphone made a glitching sound, and Jake could see Stanley telling the rest of his men to stand down. He hopped over the cars he'd been taking cover behind, and quickly crossed the bridge.
"I can't believe you're alive," Stanley spoke, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I was told your unit didn't make it. We were sent to retrieve what gear we could. What happened to your eye?"
Jake brushed his hands away, not fond of the invasion of his space.
"Don't play stupid. I know you're here to cover up after Aevum. That's why you were shooting."
Stan's expression dropped.
"Well, we didn't know it was you..." He tried to justify himself.
Both Jake and his raven tilted their heads, neither of them buying it.
"Okay fine, we did know. But we were told you defected, that you were with the vamps. And I didn’t care to check, amongst all the fire you were returning -"
"I guess that makes us even." Jake cut the other man off. "Listen, there are more survivors out there, and I know you have your orders, but I would appreciate if you stayed on the lookout, and didn't shoot at civilians."
Stanley gave him an unconvinced look.
"I'm not saying to share supplies, but if you see cultists taking people, at least stop them, alright?"
Stan sighed and rubbed the back of his head.
"Alright." He reluctantly agreed. He might not have been happy with it, but it was clear he understood that they were pretty much on their own and that Bellweather would not be conducting an extraction anytime soon, so he needed the help wherever he could get it. And Jake had just so happened to fall right into his lap. "The other kid said the same thing."
"What other kid?"
"One of those conspiracy theorists. He was running around with a spear and a camera, but he gave us medical supplies that, as you can see," Stan gestured towards a woman lying on the ground, broken leg tied to her own gun, and a man with a bandaged-up chest beside her, " we desperately needed. He said he worked for a priest, and that we should put up a UV light perimeter. A friend of yours I presume?"
"No." Jake replied, thinking over those words. Whoever it had been, he was also no doubt working for Reverend Eva. However, the woman had never mentioned anyone of the sort.
"Alone." The raven croaked, confirming what Jake was thinking.
"Where did he go?" The sharpshooter asked.
Stanley shrugged.
"The old cemetery in the city centre." The woman with the broken leg suddenly spoke. "He said that the red fog around it was protecting something. He had that look in his eyes, you know? That of a man on a mission."
Jake nodded.
"I'll be on my way."
"Wait!" Stanley called out. "What about the vampires? How are we supposed to deal with them?"
"Set up a UVB perimeter and stake them through the heart before they regenerate. Any old piece of wood will do."
"Through the heart." The raven confirmed, before flying off to scout ahead.