Out with the patrol, Stanley, with his face blackened and wearing dark clothes, grimaces as he loads up his gun. He checks on his men, who are assembled on and around a big piece of farming equipment, and they follow him.
Jake hands Sean a gun. Frodale and his minions walk as one flowing, amoebic body to get some guns of their own. Jake passes a gun to Emily. It's a gun of love. Which, ick.
Stanley and his team jog up a hill and do a crouch-run through some sort of high grass.
Hawkins picks up a rifle and swings around to hand it to his daughter. Damn straight -- Ally got a gun. He kisses her forehead. Jake makes his way to his father and hands up a rifle. Dad looks down sadly at his son, who has a face full of tragedy at what they've come to.
Stanley and his men reach a vantage point where they can see a huge spread of a tented camp. He pulls out some binoculars.
Dad walks over to Mom and kisses her on the forehead. All this forehead kissing is very "blessings on thee from his High Holiness," which I guess goes with the whole Biblical theme. Jake continues to look like he's about to bust out crying. He needs to stop that, because I'm out of Kleenex and I'm nearing dehydration.
Stanley lowers his binoculars and grimaces.
Next week: More fighting, and HEATHER! HEATHER! HEATHER! Heather stands in what looks like a white tee-shirt and fatigue pants and looks up at a jacked-up American flag with stripes running vertically and only twenty-one stars on the blue field. So that's where she's been all this time! She's been Betsy Rossing it somewhere. Make total sense.