John, Jacob, and Faith were all dead. Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse rescued from the siblings' grips. Each having gone through a different amount and different style of torture.

Just to walk away as Joseph gave them the last opportunity to. He pressed his forehead against Rook's, telling 'his child' to leave with their friends.

"Rook, let's go." Whitehorse calmly commanded, while Hudson stood in disbelief, and Pratt was still shaken to his core.

"What!" Hudson asked in a near yelled whisper, holding a hand to Rook's chest to try and stop Rook. "What are you doing?"

Hudson knew she couldn't get through to Rook, instead going to try and plead with Whitehorse, who commanded the same thing. "You've lost your fucking mind!" She spoke up louder.

"Get in the goddamn truck!" Whitehorse held back from yelling fully at her, but Hudson listened after that. "Sometimes it's best to just leave well enough alone."

The truck was silent for a solid minute, Whitehorse taking the wheel, Rook in the passenger seat, Hudson and Pratt in the back.

Finally, Hudson spoke up once more. "Sir, with all due respect.. What the fuck? We can't just leave those people–" Whitehorse intercepted her. "We're not going to leave those people. We're going to get the National Guard and bring the hammer down on that goddamn place." He glanced at Rook as he spoke.

"No. No way." Pratt said after his long silence. "I'm not gonna be a part of this. You heard what he said." He lightly shook his head in disbelief, his tone having a hint of fear. "You're gonna do exactly as you're told, Pratt." Whitehorse quickly shut him down.

Then, he turned on the radio. Rook's core immediately shook.

"Only you.." The radio began to play the soft melody, reminding Rook of what happened. It was as if they were seeing red. The same song that forced them to kill for Jacob, to kill Eli and dozens others. A piece of meat for Jacob to 'cull the herd' with an insatiable urge.

"Rook? What's wrong?" Whitehorse asked with a faint, reassuring smile.

"Cull the herd."