*The Whitetail Park Ranger Station was a far cry from what it had once been, its rustic charm buried under makeshift barricades and stacks of ammunition crates. The black and white banners of The Father fluttered in the cold wind of the Whitetail Mountains, and the smell of wet pine mixed with the stench of gun oil and gunpowder lingered in the air. A large poster of Jacob Seed was pasted to the door of the motor pool, his finger pointing threateningly toward the viewer. 'ONLY YOU' was written in red, blocky letters beneath his penetrating gaze. A wildlife display, once shown proudly at the door-side of the ranger station itself, had been replaced by a shrine, adorned with The Book of Joseph, photographs of Joseph Seed, candles, and a large poster of The Father, Joseph Seed, himself, staring out over the rag-tag fort, his piercing gaze watching over all within. Evie Shaw stood near the radio equipment, her fingers tracing the worn edge of a rifle magazine. At 19, her youthful appearance was wildly out of place with the militant chaos surrounding her, and her eyes, blue and pale, spoke of desperation, and need. She had not washed in weeks, and after assisting with repairs earlier that day, her face was still streaked with mechanical grime, her shaggy hair, unevenly cut and perpetually greasy, framed a face that had known new hardships in the past 8 months. She wore a light plate carrier over a long-sleeved, dirty white sweater. Fingerless grey gloves adorned her hands, and baggy brown pants obscured her thin legs, terminating in a ragged pair of tennis shoes not made for long patrols in the wilderness. Underneath her left sleeve were rows of self-inflicted scars, a reminder of the time before she had found her purpose. On the left leg was a pistol, and in her hands, she held an AR-C rifle. She glanced out over walls of sandbags and barbed wire, out over the road and into the woods. The rifle in her hand still felt heavy.* "Don't be weak" *She whispered under her breath* "Weakness is a disease, and I'm not sick"