Chapter Twenty Five
“Death isn’t the worst thing out there anymore. I’ve looked into the eyes of these monsters and seen what they turn into. Promise me this, Evelyn. Don’t you ever become mindless like them.”
–Marquise Jones, “Unnamed”. 2 Months After.
* * *
“Blessed be His bounties,” Father Abraham finished. “Amen.”
“Amen!” the other Beholders cheered, their hands clasped and heads bowed.
“Amen,” Evelyn whispered, her own body kept in a similar pose to theirs.
“Let us now enjoy our Holy Communion together.” He raised his hands in glee. “God bless us all!”
The rest of the congregation arose from their spots within the tabernacle. The light of the sconces danced around their uniform shapes, casting shadows on the edges beside. Jars large enough to hide a body were wheeled in by the Friars, their liquid, alabaster surface tinted yellow. One by one, Father Abraham filled a cup with Communion milk and handed it to each of his congregants. The Beholders bowed in thanks, emptied the cup in one swallow, and marched back to their jobs. Slowly, the exercise wore on.
Not Evelyn though. This was the one part of their sermon that she’d been graced enough to avoid. As much as she would have liked to fit in, she’d seen how long time passed from the time this milk left the udder to when they gave it to their congregants, and if spoilage wasn’t a concern, then she didn’t trust whatever preservatives they were slipping into those jars. It was almost as if the moment the Friars blessed their Communion milk, it assumed an almost magical property against decay.
Brother Aaron walked behind. “Are you going to join us today, Sister Eva?”
At least that alias stuck. Evelyn tugged on her respirator. “No, thank you.”
“I know that the Father has given you many privileges, but you will never feel like a true member of our flock without engaging in our traditions. We are all one family, after all.”
“Like I’ve been telling him, I’m still not sure if I’m here to stay.”
“And yet, we call you Sister anyway. He must see something truly great in you, Eva. The Father does not allow such passage in our camp without first being baptized in the name of the Lord. Why, you might be the first I’ve ever seen who he has given so much autonomy.”
Evelyn shrugged. “Take it up with him.”
Brother Aaron placed his hand on her shoulder, only to be shrugged off. An upward tilt formed from his otherwise stiff lips. “So warm. So very, very warm.”
“Those sconces burn hot, Brother Aaron.” And she’d kept herself strategically near them for this reason.
“Yes, that must be it.” He marched off without another word, and Evelyn breathed easy.
How had she put herself in this situation? With this community? It had been weeks since she and Abraham had their confrontation, and she’d been spending most of her days in their camp since. True to his word, he hadn’t outed Evelyn as human, nor did he force her into the slightest bit of discomfort. He simply allowed her to come and go as she pleased, convinced that she would embrace the Beholders for herself.
And to her surprise, this place became more like home by the week. The Brothers and Sisters treated Evelyn with open arms, even as she once again hid inside her leather hardsuit and respirator. It might have stood as her impenetrable wall against them, but they did not care. So long as Father Abraham approved of her presence, she was treated no different than one of their own.
Damn, did it feel good to be with company like this again. Unlike Pandemonium, where she couldn’t look over her shoulder without ignoring the threats in front, the Beholders were more than willing to have her around to help. With the agreement that Leah and Abraham made, much of their time was spent working for free, with many pulling the outer fields of crops for animal feed so that the Pandemonium’s industrial slaughterhouses could continue to chug along without issue. Others took to working the main highways in and out of the valley. Cracks needed to be smoothed over, potholes filled, and no shortage of debris removed whenever another house collapsed. A few made their way inside where they’d be assigned to some Municipal project or other.
But Evelyn found most of her time in the Beholder camp itself. In defiance of the destitute world around, the Beholders endured and withered as one stable unit, with their Inquisitors keeping watch above all. Artisans, stonecutters, loggers, carpenters, shepherds. Many were used to changing jobs on the fly, forgetting all they’d learned to more efficiently handle their latest demands. Not that any were bothered. Everyone was just happy to pitch in and aid their Brothers in need.
After witnessing the genocide of humanity and the rise of rezzers, she’d assumed that communities like this could no longer function. The Hollowing pressed against all without mercy, and none could escape its wrath. What better advantage could be gained than leveraging this threat against the weak and powerless? That was how Pandemonium operated, and they’d come to thrive by being so ruthless.
And yet, the Beholders still stood as their foil. For whatever could be said about their technological disadvantage or stilted population, Evelyn realized there was nowhere left in this world with such a stronger sense of family than here. A kind she hadn’t known since her father’s death.
The bright lights and incandescent splendor of the Lodge felt so pitifully barren in comparison, especially with her family still missing. Evelyn only went back there anymore to lie down and sleep after a long day of work here.
If only Evelyn could get over this perpetual knot in her stomach or those spider senses that never truly shut down.
With the Holy Communion finished, she drifted to one of the carpentry tents she’d been working lately. This was where Evelyn found her personal calling. Whether she helped to craft the hoes, tills, and axes whenever they broke, raised another pillar to support one that had fallen, or built furnishing for new inductees, she never felt more included than filling this role. Given a fledgling cold that wouldn’t go away, it was nice to do a task that wasn’t physically demanding.
She could also lose herself in the craft. Cutting the raw wood to size, sanding the edges, applying the varnish, and cleaning off any excess waste. By sticking to helping the other recruits, she avoided having to indirectly supply the Inquisitors.
After all, they might one day raise their arms against her child.
That was what mattered most. Evelyn might not have been able to bring herself to kill Abraham in the moment, but she couldn’t forget what would happen if she lost complete control. So long as he was willing to let her stay in his camp, what harm could it do? This kept her ahead of the game, for the Beholders and Pandemonium both.
Evelyn would see her child survive this war, no matter which side came out on top.
A muscular Inquisitor with a scarred brow marched over to a nearby potters’ tent, with a handful of white-cloaked Beholders behind. A worker gulped as the Inquisitor entered, her blonde hair tied in a bun.
“What can I help you with, Brother Jericho?” the worker asked.
Jericho looked around the tent, his face hard as granite beneath his black hood. “Sister Bethany, you have been accused of bearing a false idol.”
Her violet eyes shook. “No! I would never betray the Lord with such heresy!”
“She lies,” one of Jericho’s followers said. “Brother Silas and I can both testify to seeing the idol. It is shaped in a star and crescent moon, and made of unholy silver!”
Bethany grit her teeth. “You lie, Sister Agatha!”
Agatha grinned. “We see the way you spread Sin around our Brothers and Sisters. You will damn us all to Hell with your treachery!”
“Silence!” Jericho shouted. “I will only ask this once, Sister Bethany. Is there any truth to these accusations?”
She paused momentarily, her lips quivering as the others watched her. They weren’t alone. Many other Beholders had wandered out from their workshops to watch the display, and all eyes were now focused onto her. Only Evelyn hung back, keeping a low profile from behind her carpentry bench.
“Speak up, Sister,” Jericho said. “The Lord will mitigate your punishment if you confess to your crimes now, but He will show no mercy if you attempt to speak falsehoods.”
A tear rolled down Bethany’s cheeks. “I speak no mistruth. There is no idol here.”
“Very well, then.”
Jericho thrust Sister Bethany out of the tent and began examining all in sight. He moved efficiently and without care, tossing aside any item that proved an inconvenience. Ceramic shattered against the beaten dirt floor as the investigation continued. Agatha and Silas watched on with crossed arms while Bethany sobbed on the ground.
Brother Jericho suddenly stiffened and bent low. Out from the crevice of a small, wooden shelf, he pulled the tiniest strand of silver. With a tug, he held the object up high. A crescent moon and star reflected against the light of day. An Islamic necklace.
Sister Bethany gasped. “I don’t know how that got there, I swear!”
But Jericho merely struck her with his cudgel. A crack reverberated out where a bone had snapped. “Enough. Sister Bethany, you are hereby charged with heresy against the Lord, and must now face His wrath.”
“It isn’t what it l–”
“Do not speak another word until the Inquisition begins. I will not allow you to poison the minds of your Brothers and Sisters further!”
With that thought, he yanked Bethany to her feet and dragged her away. Tears flowed free as she bawled her eyes out, but she was alone. The normally lighthearted Beholders had adopted a frenzied disgust at the discovery of the necklace.
“Heretic!” Sister Agatha shouted.
“Burn in Hell!” another shrieked.
Even her neighboring potter threw a clay cup. “The Lord curse you for your heresy!”
All at once, as if a switch had gone off in their minds. As if they hadn’t been swapping jokes with Bethany moments ago… The Beholders erupted with vitriol against their once-beloved friend. Brother Jericho led her off into the distance, his own visage empty of everything but contempt.
And Evelyn watched in silence, fighting the growing nausea once again rooted in her stomach. Just as she’d always been when each of these Inquisitions was formed.
Her father used to have a lesson about the people of a small Texan town they’d once stayed at.
These folks are the nicest you’ll ever meet, he’d said. They’ll let you into their home, make you the most lovely meal, and give you the shirt off their back. They’ll do anything and everything to make you feel as if you belong. He’d patted her head with a frown. Until you’re different. Don’t you be cutting your hair short or wearing jeans around these folks, Evelyn. We’re on thin ice as it is ‘cause of who we are and where we came from.
She hadn’t known what he’d meant at the time. Evelyn thought they were the same kind of neighborhood as any other, where the people locked the doors, and no one made eye contact on the street.
But then she saw how people looked at Evelyn and her father. In the classroom, at the grocery store, in Church. Not the way they did with each other. A particular animosity only thinly veiled against them whenever they smiled and nodded. A wave with one hand, but a stone hidden behind the other.
She could never say for sure why it happened so fast. Maybe it was the braids she wore at the time. Maybe they disliked their family’s Presbyterian roots. Maybe because they were black. Hell, it could’ve been all three, or something else completely. It didn’t matter. The slightest deviation was all those bigots needed as justification to rise up and oust their family, as if they were antibodies protecting their perfect community. It got so bad that they were forced to leave before her father could finish his business project.
Righteous action based on collective blindness.
The Beholders were no different. No matter how small or insignificant the heresy, the aberrant were treated as an existential threat. Inquisitors investigated until any evidence was uncovered, and no sooner did this happen than the rest of the congregation would rise against them. To violate the Holy Word in any way was akin to setting the rest of them on a path of eternal damnation, and they were not shy against treating such heresy with whatever malice it required.
Of course, if any accused made it through an Inquisition, they would be welcomed back as though nothing amiss had ever occurred. But Evelyn could not help but notice how many left, and how few ever returned.
“You do not approve of Brother Jericho’s approach, Sister Eva?” Father Abraham asked from behind.
When the Hell did you get there? “Didn’t say anything.”
“Your body speaks where your tongue does not.” He chuckled. “Why, your back is stiffer than that board you’re sanding.”
“Guess it’s been a while since I’ve been with a group this large.”
“Is that all?”
No, there was plenty more for her to say, but Evelyn knew what wolves looked like, along with why it was never a good idea to hit them with a stick. “Seems she got what was coming.”
His magenta eyes stared deep. “You don’t believe that, Evelyn. Come now, it’s just the two of us here. Don’t be shy.”
She looked around. The rest seemed to have chased after Bethany with more vile threats. Only Father Abraham remained, as calm and collected as always.
“For all your talk of acceptance and peace, you seem to throw that out the window the moment someone steps outside the lines. What can I say? It’s tough to feel safe when I’m different on a cellular level.”
He stroked his chin. “More than that, one could say that we’re hypocritical to our core, and this is terrifying for outsiders. It is doubly so when you’re forced to hide behind a mask.”
She winced. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t need to, Evelyn. You are completely correct in holding that assumption. We are a God-fearing people who follow the Holy Word to the letter. Like the world we live in, it holds as many truths as contradictions, and only through our collective faith can we grasp a fraction of His wisdom. Sometimes, this leads to love and enlightenment. Other times, to hate.”
“Doesn’t it bother you to harm your people this way?”
Abraham smiled. “Again, you call them ‘my people.’ But to answer your question, it pains me every time I see them run astray. It pains me more to know what must be done to bring them back. And it brings me nothing but sorrow to see the rest of our congregation respond with so much anger.”
“All you’d need to do is say a word and everyone would listen,” Evelyn pointed out.
He sighed. “True, but I must temper my own guidance for others when it comes to the greater good. Remember, we aren’t like you anymore, Evelyn. Sin used to bring you a sense of shame and little more, but since the Beholding, Sin has become a measurable, existential threat to our very souls. Oh, sure, I know you still believe it to be material in origin, but this does not matter when compared to the damage to our spirit.
“And this is why we must always strive harder than before. Without an absolute, unshakable faith in the Lord and our fellow Brothers and Sisters, Sin will work its way into our camp. The ramifications will only harm us all.”
“And since you think yourselves to be servants of God meant to bring about His will, you cannot have anyone start to believe otherwise,” Evelyn considered.
“That is correct. We must always be vigilant against Sin, even if we sometimes commit violence to rid it from our camp. There is power in the Lord, but only if you trust in Him without question.” His smile held firm. “But this is all transient, of course. Soon, your daughter – the Chosen One – will return, and then it will only be a matter of time before She ends the Beholding through Her divine power. Our faith cannot falter before this happens.”
If only I could share that belief. Liam and Leah had been missing for so, so long at this point, disappearing into the ether after being chased out by Ezekiel and his friends. If they were destined to return, why couldn’t it happen already?
“I still don’t understand what you expect her to do,” Evelyn said. “She’s just a baby girl.”
“It is not who She is, but what She’ll become. As the only child born free from Sin, Her uncorrupted vessel remains a beacon of God’s purity. When the time is right, She will pour the seven bowls of judgment, absorbing the Sins of the world and purifying them for all mankind. Sinners and heretics alike will not be saved from this act of divine retribution.” His eyes lit up, somewhere between fury and ecstasy. “But through this cataclysm, another world will be born! One in which we retain our immortal bodies, but our souls are no longer subjected to the weight of Sin.” Tears formed. “It truly will be a beautiful sight to behold!”
Her chest tightened. Abraham only became this passionate during his sermons, often feeding off the energy of the crowd. But here, it was just the two of them, which made his zeal more pronounced.
And terrifying.
Evelyn cleared her throat. “So you believe that Leah will be able to absorb the entirety of HBRS into her body and expunge humanity of this illness? Is that how you think the Beholding will end?”
“I think nothing. I know this to be true because the scriptures are clear about what is to come.”
“That’s only because you altered the Bible though,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
She clenched her jaw. That wasn’t something she’d planned to bring up. Not out loud. If ever Abraham would turn on her, it would be if she exposed this truth.
She dug her nails into her palm. Couldn’t go back now. “‘For the Lord so loved the world, that He gave us His Chosen One, that whosoever believeth in Her should not become corrupted, but have everlasting life.’”
“John 3:16,” Abraham said. “Someone was listening today.”
“Except that’s not how it goes. ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life,’” she quoted. “That is the line my father used to say to me, and it is how the Bible really goes. So long as you believe in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, you’ll get into heaven.
“But you don’t say that in your version, do you? You’ve practically removed all references to Jesus, save for a few key lines that refer to him as if he was some regular prophet and not the Son of God. Instead, you’ve selectively changed verses to suit your needs, down to the point that your ‘Chosen One’ is a girl. My girl!”
“Is that what this fuss has all been about?” he asked, the muscles in his face still relaxed. “Do you think me some charlatan because I shifted a few lines around?”
She couldn’t believe this. “How can you play this off like it’s no big deal? You speak of having an unshakable faith in His word, yet you change it around without the slightest thought.”
“Evelyn, you should take a step back and listen to how foolish you sound right now. Just as the New International Version altered language from the King James Version to be easier to read, so too have I done what I can to speak a more authentic message. If anything, the Holy Word is more closely aligned with the original text than anything you were fed before the Beholding.”
“That isn’t the same thing, and you know it. You aren’t just changing language, but context. The whole message is different now.”
“What is it that you’re really trying to say to me?”
She exhaled. “You’ve let me into your community. You’ve propped me up like I belong. And you’ve done all you can to convince me that this is all part of God’s plan. And yet, it’s been all based on your spin. How the fuck do you think I could ever put my daughter’s life in the hands of someone who picks and chooses how they see the Lord’s message!?”
Only then did Abraham seem the least bit bothered. “Now, now. I know you have always had concerns about this congregation, but there’s no reason to use foul language like that.”
“What does it matter? You can always just change them later.” She chewed her lips. “You know what, Abraham? I’d like to call it a day and go back home.”
He grimaced. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Are you saying I’m a prisoner now? Do I not have free will?”
“Of course you d–”
“Good, then you’ll have no problem letting me walk away. But I will say this: I’m not one of your congregation. I won’t fall for your empty talk, and I won’t entrust you with my family’s safety just because you tell me that it’s destined to be. If you want me to believe everything you say is part of God’s plan, then prove it. Put your money where your mouth is, and show me a true miracle.”
She turned around and stormed off without another word.
“You shall see His power soon enough!” Abraham called out, his tone now sharp. “God is great and accounts for all. Especially you!”
Evelyn kept walking.
She hadn’t planned to go that far, but seeing Abraham not be the least bit concerned was more than she could bear. After all the talk that his people had about proper Christian values… After how rigidly they preached the word of God… And he didn’t care in the slightest that it was based on his lies.
More than anything, Evelyn was ashamed for not seeing her original assassination through. Would she ever have another chance like that? Probably not, especially after that outburst.
It had been so long since she’d connected with God, and Evelyn wanted so desperately to believe that her life had some divine purpose. But there wasn’t, was there? Abraham only used his charisma to fill the void that the Hollowing created, exploiting her like he exploited the rest of the Beholders.
God hadn’t found another messenger. Another charlatan had only taken His mantle as his own.
Evelyn made her way back to the Lodge, her mind a maelstrom and stomach acting up again. Why the hell wouldn’t this sickness go away already?
The familiar marble floors and crystal chandeliers hailed her arrival. She’d have to remember to get in touch with Chantelle. Maybe lying down and watching a couple movies would help clear the pain in her abdomen.
A crew of Hunters barred the way. She’d seen them before, with their matching Scottish kilts and sashes that doubled as bandoleers. “The Last Scotsmen,” they called themselves. As she drew near, their eyes locked onto hers.
“You there,” the lead Hunter said, his red beard flowing free. “You’re the one that’s been going to the Beholders, yeah?”
She sidestepped them and kept walking. “Must be confusing me with someone else.”
He reached for her as she passed, but she managed to slip free.
The Hunter grunted. “Evelyn, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, picking up her pace.
He grabbed again for her arm. “The name’s Kinkaid, and I think you should follow us.”
Evelyn studied his crew. Though none had their weapons out, they kept their hands near pistols and watched her with cold, dead eyes.
“Whatever contract this is about, tell your boss they’re in the wrong,” Evelyn explained. “I have permission to be here.”
He grinned. “Aye, lassie, you do. I still think it would be a good idea if you came our way. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, if you catch my meaning.”
She didn’t. “I’m going nowhere with you, and unless you want to have a problem with the Head Huntress when she gets back, then I’d suggest that you leave me be.”
The Hunter grit his teeth, and the others inched forth. Evelyn slowly reached for her own pistol.
“It’s okay!” Chantelle called out, jogging down the hall with all the speed her prosthetic could muster. “I called them.”
“What’s this about?” Evelyn whispered.
“Just trust us. You’ll know soon enough.”
Evelyn chewed her lips and followed Kinkaid’s lead. As much as she wanted nothing more than to turn and run, there wasn’t shit she could do against an entire crew of Hunters in the middle of the Lodge. She was still the outsider, after all.
They led her around the corner, down some stairs, and into the basement. Evelyn’s mind raced as she considered the possibilities. Had her fake rezzer ID been made? Was a boss investigating her? Did Charon tip someone off? There couldn’t have been many bold enough to act inside the Lodge. Why grab her? To what end was she needed?
But then they reached the loading dock, free from prying eyes, and all her questions were answered the moment she entered the room.
“Shit,” Evelyn exhaled. “Where the hell have you been?”
Leah crossed her arms, her burgundy scarf falling free. “Good to see you too, bestie.”
