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The Hollowing: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure
B2: Chapter 19: Delivered By Fate - 2

B2: Chapter 19: Delivered By Fate - 2

Nathanial’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Father Abraham, you have come all the way here?”

This is him!? Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat.

“But of course,” Abraham said, his voice somehow soft, even with the gruff undertone that every rezzer possessed. “I could not stand idly by after hearing about Ezekiel’s treachery.”

“What compelled him to act this way, Father?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” His eyes suddenly fell to Evelyn. “But you there. Do you have a theory of your own?”

She cringed under the weight of his eyes. Sharp and piercing, like a priest who’d caught her laughing during Mass.

“Just a thought,” Evelyn said, her own voice controllably brusque. “Way I hear it, Stein’s got all sorts of valuables there. You could earn a lot of pics if you broke in.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No, he would never. Ezekiel does not consort with such devilry.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And what would you know of our congregation?” Abraham asked, still with that death stare.

Evelyn could barely stand this. In spite of the three layers of clothes, respirator, and aviator shades above, she’d never felt more naked under his gaze. Part of her wanted to do nothing other than pull out her gun, shoot Abraham in the face, and run off before he could react. But she couldn’t. He had a pair of Inquisitors at his flank, watching her with those dark, sullen eyes. Ready to murder her at the slightest provocation.

“Ah!” Nathaniel said, suddenly stepping between. “This is the one whom I’ve been telling you about, Father. This is Eva.”

“Eva,” he repeated. A smile teased his lips. “Forgive my poor manners then. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

Control yourself. If this priest was the leader of the Beholders, then she had to play this as intelligently as possible.

She feigned surprise. “Why you talking about me? I’m just a regular worker.”

“You are blessed, are you not?” Abraham asked.

“No more than anyone else.”

“This is untrue. Eva is a derivation of Eve, the first mother of man.”

She crossed her arms. “So? Lots of people have names like that. Evita, Evie, Evelyn… I even met an Evangeline once.”

The muscles in his face grew relaxed. “Well, little missy, aren’t you quite the learned scholar?”

“Don’t read too much into it. I’ve been doing the rounds in this city for years and only picked up a thing or two. My Rez holds better than most, but at the end of the day, I’m just a gal who is good with a hammer.”

But Father Abraham only seemed to grow more curious as he watched her from head-to-toe. “Do you believe in fate, Eva?”

She considered the question. Or rather, how to most effectively answer it. “I guess I do, in my own way.”

“Then perhaps you have this same sense as me.”

“And what sense is that?”

His violet eyes twinkled. “That you and I were meant to cross paths today. Do you feel the Lord’s voice as well?”

Evelyn buried the shiver. Abraham was sussing her out, but she could do the same. Give a non-answer, take a real answer. Build trust while revealing nothing. Not anything valuable, anyway.

“I don’t hear anything, but I do feel God’s presence,” she admitted. “Moreso lately after receiving the Holy Word.”

“‘A man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps.’”

“Proverbs 16:9.”

He grinned wide. “So you understand then that all events are ordained by the Lord himself. Everything, from the moment of your birth until this very moment has all followed his divine plan, even as you make each choice yourself. Would you not agree that this makes our meeting beautiful?”

“I can.”

“Have you ever wondered what other beauties you’ve been denied by living in this unholy place?”

Evelyn smirked below her respirator. Time to play the tease. “Can’t say I’m too comfortable with the implication, especially after what your friends did at Mother’s Grace.”

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Abraham recoiled as though slapped. “Such vile treason will be judged by God Himself. Please, do not do as your kindred might and lay blame. We believe in peace and prosperity in the name of the Lord. I would never condone such violence.”

Is that so? Evelyn tried to stare deep. Into Father Abraham. Into this leader of an Enclave that commanded thousands strong in a world where only the strong survived. She tried to pierce into his soul as he’d tried for her.

To no avail. Between her sunglasses and the vibrant sheen of his eyes, Evelyn could make nothing out.

Nathaniel took another step forth. “As I have explained many times, Eva, we wish to behold the Lord’s greatness and nothing more.”

At least she could confirm his sincerity. Evelyn had been around Nathaniel enough to know his ticks. He knew nothing of Ezekiel’s attack.

“Please,” he continued, “hear the Father’s words for yourself when next we meet for Mass. Our congregation is always willing to invite others.”

“Indeed,” Abraham echoed. “The peace that I forged with the Head Huntress must remain true, and there is no better way to show our continued unity than to remind each other of our similarities. Would you be willing to join us?”

“You want me to go to your camp? Even after the attack?”

“But of course. It is in these troubled times that we must always fight hardest for each other.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Evelyn couldn’t make a move against Abraham. Not now. Not with so many watching. But this opportunity could not be ignored. It gave her the opening she’d been looking for. So long as she played things right.

“I’ll think about it,” Evelyn said. Being non-committal kept her options on the table.

“Do as you will,” Abraham said, once again smiling wide. “But do not forget this, Eva. No one should ever be alone.”

She nodded to maintain appearances, but her own truth remained concealed in her body language, with her fingers still pressed into her palms.

* * *

“Are you sure that I can’t help you with anything else?” Chantelle asked.

Evelyn looked into her bag of supplies and shook her head. “You’ve done everything I’ve needed. Thanks again for your help.”

She frowned. “Okay. Just give me a call if anything changes.”

I won’t. “I will.”

Chantelle exited, leaving Evelyn alone.

God, how much more empty this place became without her husband and daughter. Their suite in the Lodge never felt this large before, nor as barren. Much of their gear had been moved to Mother’s Grace when Leah first became sick. Removed from the rest of their personal belongs, this place felt so alien.

Don’t think about that. You’re on your own now. Evelyn went to one of the bathrooms, her bag in hand. The light blinked on, highlighting her face in the mirror. The long, thick hair, the healthy skin, the full lips, and of course, her living, brown eyes. She studied each with disdain.

Evelyn dug through her bag. She started with the home-made latex. Some cold water from the sink, a dash of tapioca flour, gelatin, and a small amount of coconut oil. She mixed the reagents and let them sit until ready, then brushed it across her cheeks and scalp, crunching down her skin as the mixture dried. Already, she looked about ten years older.

Makeup came next. A thick white primer did major work to brighten her flesh, while an added coat of black around the eyes gave the sunken impression she’d seen before. A layer of raven-colored lipstick helped to close the mask off. She moved slowly and precisely to get the texture and color even throughout. A single mistake would be lethal.

Once satisfied, Evelyn went for the darkened food coloring and mixed it with another glass of water. The taste was more foul than she’d expected as she sloshed it around her cheeks, but it couldn’t be helped. A black tongue and gums were just as essential as everything else. She gave herself three treatments before feeling content.

Chewing tobacco came next. Another taste that made her gag, but it would do wonders to keep her breath masked.

Almost there. The most crucial element sat by her side. Evelyn studied the thin piece of glass suspiciously, then washed it in the sink, over and over to be safe. Chantelle insisted that she’d done her job, but a single Soft pseudo-cell was all her body needed to be infected, and Evelyn refused to ever leave that to chance. Only after an hour of extra prep work did she take this final plunge, placing the red-tinted contacts into her eyes.

Evelyn looked into the mirror and no longer saw herself. Only the monster remained, with grey, wrinkled skin, blackened lips and gums, and the most important detail of all, bright red eyes.

Just like any other rezzer.

Half measures were no longer enough to see this through. If someone so much as removed her sunglasses in the Beholder camp, it would all be over. That’s what made this extra layer of subterfuge necessary. So long as they continued to think of her as a rezzer, she could get as deep into their ranks as needed.

She’d still need to take a photograph and tape it onto the fake ID that Chantelle had gotten her to slip past the Styx security, but that would be easy enough. This wasn’t her first bout beyond the walls.

Boy, did this bring Evelyn back. She hadn’t put together an ensemble of this caliber since her days with her father. Back when it was just the two of them against the world, using whatever tricks they could to keep ahead of the hollows.

Back when he’d been there to give her strength…

She blinked back the tears before they could grow. Marquise Jones was long since dead, and it had happened so many years ago. He’d died defending her life, and no amount of crying could change that truth. Only the future remained. Only the family she’d carved out from the abyss.

Evelyn drew her Sig Sauer and admired its sleek design. She removed the magazine to ensure its caliber and quantity, and loaded the rounds back into place. A quick press check revealed a bullet in the chamber, ready to kill.

One bite. That was all it took to kill Evelyn. But this weapon equalized their fight. A single shot to the head and even the strongest rezzer would die on the spot. What else did she need to defeat her enemies?

She slid her suppressor in place. The Beholders might’ve thought themselves bold enough to pull off this attack without repercussion, but they had no concept of what they were up against. They couldn’t understand the fury of mother cornered. Once she got into their camp, Father Abraham would be the first to witness that truth.

Even if it killed her.