Chapter Twenty One
“Been thinking a lot about you lately, Evelyn. About how I never gave you the community you deserved or the family you needed. Now that the world’s gone to shit, all I hope is that you’ll someday find one of your own.”
–Marquise Jones, “Unnamed”. 4 Months After.
* * *
“Are we there yet?” Eva asked.
Dad chuckled. “Evelyn, does it look like we there yet?”
She stared blankly at her father, along with his thick pair of glasses and paper-thin mustache that could’ve been scribbled onto his upper lip. He glanced into the rear-view mirror and grinned a mouth of teeth so white they seemed to glow on their own.
She grimaced. “I told you, all my friends call me Eva. Not Evelyn. I hate having an old white lady name.”
“I’ll have you know, Evelyn, that this ‘old white lady’ name came from your grandmother, and she was one fierce woman. Don’t you forget where you come from.”
Whatever. Eva pressed her head against the window in silence. Punk music blared into the one earbud she had on.
The countryside rolled by as their car shot down the highway, with nothing but cornfield after cornfield after cornfield to show for it.
This state was the worst. Eva missed living in Detroit, back when Dad didn’t have to travel so much and she got to keep her real friends. But then he got promoted to “business consultant,” and they never could stay anywhere for more than a few months. It turned out that Marquise Jones was the fixer everyone wanted around the block now, so Nebraska became the latest in a long line of lame, boring crapholes that the two of them got dragged to.
If only Dad could give it up. Find somewhere for them to settle down until Eva got through middle school. Or at least let her stay with one of her friends while he ran off to do some work stuff. It wasn’t like he was around for her anyway!
The car slowed to a stop, just by another cornfield. There was a church… Or maybe a barn. The place was tiny. Barely two stories tall, with walls that could’ve been made from sand, and a first floor so low to the ground, it was practically sinking. The steeple wasn’t even over the middle where it belonged. It sat on top of a door to the side like the whole thing would’ve fallen apart if it’d been put on the roof. I’ve seen bums living in nicer holes than this.
“Why we gotta do this, Dad?” Eva asked. “I wanna go home.”
He tapped his glasses in place. “Pastor Robinson done good by letting us stay in a place near town. We owe it to these folks for being so hospitable.”
“That all?” Eva asked. “I seen the way you look at his sister.”
“Girl, what I tell you about saying things like that!? You’re too young to be meddling in adult affairs.”
“She sure looked like she wanted you to do some meddling.” She blew him a kiss.
Dad looked like he’d been choked. “Lemme tell you what. A ten-year-old girl ain’t old enough to be concerning themselves with their parent’s love life. I swear, you’re lucky we’re next to God’s house now, or I’d smack you silly for the disrespect…” He trailed off, his face a shade darker as he muttered more threats about what he’d do the next time she stepped out of line.
Eva grinned. Dad loved playing the tough guy who could still hustle with the best, but he’d given up that life a long time ago. Now, he was just some office nerd who’d fall over himself against the slightest attack. For all his tough talk and all the times Eva had poked fun at him, he’d never once raised a finger her way.
It was nice. A fun little game for just the two of them to play when they were alone.
They got out the car and went for the door, with Dad still mumbling about his rude little girl. He kept it going all the way to the door, then slipped back into his salesman’s charm the moment he saw the Pastor. Of course, he thanked him for everything from there. About the apartment they’d been given, and the invitation to their church, and the delicious food his sister brought over, and the help he’d gotten in watching his troublesome daughter. On and on Marquise Jones went, his words like honey as he wooed his next client.
Eva rolled her eyes. She’d seen enough of Dad’s work talk to know how it went. With a yawn, she strolled through the door to find a seat.
Only to realize just how out of place they were. From back to front, a bunch of white folks filled the pews, their eyes forward as they waited for the sermon to start. Eva scanned from side to side, but there was no denying the truth.
Not a single brown girl here, other than her.
Great. This was one of those neighborhoods. Eva had a feeling everyone would be staring at her sideways the moment they realized she’d come. That’s how things were back in Texas, and these folks looked the same as them down there.
Dad filed in with the Pastor soon enough and nudged Eva to the center of the aisle where there was room. She kept her eyes fixed in front, feeling the weight of everyone on her. With a sigh, she put her earbuds away before Dad could bitch her out over that too.
Pastor Robinson hobbled to the front, his eyebrows like two caterpillars as he blinked at the lectern.
“Ahem,” he started, clearing his throat. “It is good to see y’all here today on this fine Sunday, but before we begin, I’d like to introduce two fine folks who are gonna be staying in our sweet little town for the next few months.” He pointed. “Marquise Jones and his beautiful daughter, Evelyn.”
Dad grinned and waved. Eva slunk lower in her seat. She really didn’t want all this attention.
Pastor Robinson laughed. “Anyway, let’s show these fine folks what our community’s got in the name of good ‘ole fashion faith. Shall we?” He launched into his sermon.
For a while, Eva kept her eyes on the Bible in front. She somehow knew that if she looked around, someone would be watching her, then they’d give her the stink eye, and she’d spend the rest of the day thinking about it. Moment by moment, she stayed locked in place, too afraid to stare anywhere else.
But then boredom got the better of her, and she started studying the roof. Then the windows. Then she fell into the pews itself. Where an old lady glared back at her.
Except that her hard, wrinkled face softened into a smile when they made eye contact. Warm and inviting. She waved.
Eva smiled sheepishly back, not sure what else to do.
Her eyes fell somewhere else without thinking, this time onto a big, fat man with a trucker’s hat and a beard down to his waist. He heaved deep and turned her way, his mouth bent into a grimace. But as soon as he saw her looking, his cheeks lit up, and his lips formed a tender grin. Like he was the happiest man in the world to see her.
On and on, Eva looked around the church. Everywhere she looked, friendly faces beamed back.
These weren’t like the people in Texas. They were calm. They were nice. When it came time to sing a prayer, several of them came over to help Eva, pointing out the words on the page while they helped her stand up tall.
She’d never seen folks so cozy and polite before. Back when she was a girl in Detroit, she never looked no one in the eye. Not unless she wanted to start a problem.
But here was different. The people in this small, Nebraskan town wanted nothing but to give her a home. A place she belonged. By the end of the day, Eva wished they never had to leave this church.
She’d finally found her family.
* * *
Evelyn studied the Beholder camp, her head on a swivel.
A dozen Inquisitors kept watch along with the main road. Long-barrel rifles drawn. Crossbows in some places, repeater ballistas in others. Guards frisked whoever entered. With the way everyone was talking, it seemed like they’d gotten jittery after Ezekiel made his move. The Beholders even had a token M2 Browning set up around a makeshift fortification of cinder blocks in addition to the ballistas.
Though for what that was worth, these weapons wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference if Charon decided to mobilize Pandemonium’s arsenal against them. Their only real chance stood from the sheer weight of numbers, and one glance inside showed just how many were willing to fight for this valley they’d claimed. A militia of white cloaks hung near the entrance, tools in hand. Or weapons, depending on how they got used.
Evelyn cleared their main gate alright. The Inquisitors frisked her on arrival. Wasn’t their best work. They missed the Sig, its suppressor, and her knife to boot. It got dicey when they had her remove the sunglasses and headdress, but Evelyn’s flair did wonders.
She looked like any other rezzer now, from the peeling skin down to those bright, red eyes.
Now, she was in the camp itself. Damn, did they build this place up something fierce. Set in the shadow of Beverly Hills, the valley was surrounded by palisade walls on three fronts, and an impassible cliff to the north. Spikes protruded out from the palisades, with guards patrolling the rim. No one could get in and out without their say.
Tents were strewn about everywhere, their fabric coated white like pure mountain snow. More of their militia kept watch.
Their tech seemed to be trapped in the medieval, at least. Tailors spinning cloaks, blacksmiths forging tools, farmers wrangling cattle, lumberjacks breaking down logs, stonecutters forming bricks.
But then every so often, Evelyn would happen upon an anachronism. The mechanical printing press stood out first. Dozens were slaving away against levers to crank out what could’ve been hundreds of pages of literature an hour. More stood nearby to bind the product into fresh copies of the Holy Word with cured leather.
There was more. Evelyn caught sight of a steam-powered lathe in one workshop and what could’ve been surmised as a chemistry lab in another. Couldn’t make out more than that. Not while keeping with the pack of outsiders.
The group of “potential congregants” were guided onward. Mostly workers, but a few Styx security had worked their way into the mix. All came for the same reason: to see Father Abraham speak. He was the big shot here, after all. With only her brief encounter as a reference, she had a feeling that many more would flock to Abraham if left alone.
The polymer grip of her Sig brushed against Evelyn’s ankle where she’d smuggled it in.
They drew near the main tent. The “tabernacle,” Evelyn had overheard. The whole thing might’ve covered half an acre of land. It was huge. Pillars thick as stumps jutted from the ground, holding the fabric in place like the masts of warships propping up a dozen sails sewn together. Though braziers burned inside, the smoke didn’t collect because of all the open space. How could they have been able to move this juggernaut?
And in the center, a crowd of white-cloaked Beholders set themselves up. All knelt down in prayer as they waited for the sermon to begin. While the Pandemonium rezzers clung to the back in a disorganized cluster, the congregants formed neat, even lines, like an army ready to mobilize. It wasn’t lost on Evelyn that more Inquisitors lined the rim, eyeing her people as much as their own.
Finally, the event began. A group of Friars marched through first, humming in unison as they formed a line. The Beholders prostrated themselves in front.
Then she saw her target. Father Abraham marched into the open, his face as calm and serene as when they’d first met, and magenta eyes that reflected the light of the braziers. He approached the lectern with a copy of the Holy Word in hand.
“Welcome, my children,” Abraham said with a gleam. He peered into the back of the tabernacle. “I see we have many new faces in here today. Come on, everyone. Make sure these folks can see that they belong.” He waved a hand. “Disperse. Give ‘em room. The Word isn’t just reserved for you.”
The Beholders obeyed without question while the rezzers looked from one to another.
Abraham grinned. “Now, now. Don’t be shy! As much as I’m used to yelling to get His message through, there ain’t no reason to do that with an audience this small. Go on, do me this favor, and come on in!” He laughed. “I can promise you that I don’t bite.”
The other Beholders burst out in laughter with him, almost in unison.
There was a moment of awkward quiet where the guests stood and stared, unsure what to do next. But then a child-sized rezzer scampered forth and found a seat, and the rest trickled in behind, one by one. Evelyn shifted through the middle of the crowd, neither moving first nor lagging too far behind. It wouldn’t do to stand out.
A pair of Beholders smiled politely, but Evelyn didn’t give them more than a cursory glance. The way she figured it, only so much time would pass before her makeup would start to run from sweat. She needed as few eyes on her as possible. Though some good news came from this. Rezzers were cold-blooded by nature, so this crowd wasn’t about to turn this tent into a furnace. Bad news for her was that the sun and braziers were doing that on their own.
“There we go,” Abraham said, now quieter with everyone close. He paced a couple steps back and forth, as if he’d forgotten why he’d come. “I want to talk about something dear to me today. Community. You see, for those just walking in, and heck, even those who’ve been here since the beginning, you might think that this is all we’ve ever had.
“But you’d be wrong. Building our community didn’t happen in a day, or a week, or even a month. It took years of hard work. Just as the Israelites wandered the desert for fourty years, so too were we lost before we were saved.”
He paused. “‘This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ For those new around these parts, that is a command, given to us by the Lord above. Not one of selfishness and hatred but of our everlasting one for each other. For the community that we may form…”
Abraham went on from there. About the nature of community, and love, and valuing each other over oneself. He pulled lessons from all over the Bible and weaved them together, his voice sweet as syrup as it flowed through the crowd. It wasn’t long before the entire room was mesmerized by him, Evelyn included.
She blinked back tears. Like stepping outside time, she could almost close her eyes and be back there herself. Back in that small town in Nebraska. Back in the other church in Colorado after, and the one in Milwaukee after that. The voice and the other people might’ve been different, but their wisdom was always the same. A new venue, but the same family. The one she’d never had for herself.
And for a moment, just a moment, Evelyn could almost see her father by her side again.
Snap out of it, Evelyn. She didn’t come here for this. With a deep sigh, she opened her eyes and studied the sermon in front. No, there was no going back. Only the path forward. Only through defeating this mob could she find peace again. If not for her benefit, then her daughter’s.
The sermon winded down within the hour, with a mix of Amens and Hallelujahs. An offer was made from there. Free milk to any who wanted to join their Holy Communion. Courtesy of the congregation. It was supposed to have been divinely ordained by the blood of the Lord and everything. The workers all rushed in without question, but Evelyn kept her distance. Even if she’d been in the mood to taste some unpasteurized milk, HBRS cross-contamination guaranteed a death sentence. She hung back and chatted with other Beholders instead, doing her best to feign interest while planning her next move.
“Oh!” Father Abraham called out. “For any of y’all who have questions about our little community, you’re welcome to speak to me myself. I’ll be the at back of this tent, where I usually go for prayer.” He chuckled. “I only ask that you come in one at a time. These conversations don’t quite go well when everyone’s clamoring at once.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. She’d planned for this to take longer, but could it really be that easy?
Others rushed to the front, brought in by the sermon that had opened their minds. Evelyn waited in the back this time. If this was going to work, she’d need all the time she could get…
One by one, the Pandemonium rezzers filed into Abraham’s part of the tent, or ‘the Holiest Place,’ as they called it. Shockingly, no Inquisitors remained nearby. Abraham seemed to not give himself the slightest bit of protection. When each rezzer exited, they came out beaming, laughing, or springing tears of joy. But not one of them faced any scrutiny as they strolled the way they’d come. As if Abraham had no security whatsoever beyond that which guarded the entrance to their camp. What the hell’s this guy thinking?
Evelyn’s turn came. She threw on her headdress and sunglasses, took a deep breath and marched through.
Far removed from the lavishness of the Lodge, Abraham’s quarters stood as its foil. A rug sat at the entrance, more to rub dirt on than to stand as decoration. Only a desk sat inside, oak and plain, without the slightest bit of adornment. A copy of their Bible sat open on top, with a single candle for light. Incense burned elsewhere, and tools were leaned haphazardly against the wall, caked in mud. Was this the home of Pandemonium’s greatest threat?
“Ah,” Father Abraham hailed, “is that you again, Eva? I thought I saw you hanging back when it came time for Communion, and now you’re the last one here. You’re quite the patient one, aren’t you?”
She slipped into her practiced, gruff tone. “Guess you could say that.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
He laughed. “Well, for starters, you managed to repeat a sermon back to one of my Friars with more accuracy than he could recall himself. That’s quite the feat for someone outside our community.”
She shrugged. “What can I say? Been reading a lot of the Holy Word since I got it.”
“I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read.”
“I have,” Evelyn admitted. “It let me connect with something I thought I’d lost for good.”
“That is His power.”
“Indeed.”
He tilted his head. “What did you want to ask me about, Eva?”
She mulled the thought. “I guess I don’t have any questions for you. I just wanted to see this place for myself. You know… To see if it’s as genuine as your people say.”
“My people,” he repeated with a laugh. “They’re just people.No more complicated than that.”
“There sure are a lot of them who believe otherwise.”
“People believe in all sorts of things, whether you try to convince them otherwise or not. The goal isn’t to wonder why they believe. It’s to question what you’ll do for yourself.” He turned his head. “You know, this does make me remember a certain lesson I haven’t read for quite some time. If you’ll excuse me…” He marched over to the desk and started flipping through his Bible.
Now’s your chance. With Abraham’s back to her and none of his guards else in sight, there would be no time better to strike. Evelyn quickly drew the pistol from one of her boots and the suppressor from the other. Within moments, the two were combined. With the added grease for the suppressor, her subsonic rounds might as well have been whispering.
“Here we are,” Abraham said, his back still to her. “‘And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.’”
“Revelations, 20:12,” Evelyn repeated. She removed the safety, a subtle click resonating in the tent.
But Abraham did not turn. “Tell me, Evelyn. In these hours of revelations, what will your own book say when the time of judgment comes?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You knew!?”
“I couldn’t know for certain when the mother of the Chosen One would come to me in the flesh, but as I told you before, it was inevitable that this moment would one day come to pass. The Lord selected you on your path, just as He selected me.” He chuckled. “I must say, that’s quite the ensemble you’ve got there. No wonder why you were able to fool us so easily. You look as corrupted as everyone else, just as the Lord intended.”
“Shut up!” she snapped, her voice sharp but low. “Don’t act like this is all part of some divine plan.”
Father Abraham turned to face her, his countenance as relaxed as ever. “Why wouldn’t it be? The Lord guides us all. Are either of us supposed to be an exception?”
“This has nothing to do with God. You’re just a madman attacking an innocent family. My family!”
“I suppose that is one way of looking at it. But like I said before, people believe in all sorts of things.”
She grit her teeth. “Tell me this, Abraham. What’s to stop me from putting a bullet in your head and walking out the door?”
“Nothing other than your own conscience, as far as I can tell. I am by no means a fighter, and I would surmise that no one else knows you’re here right now. Killing me and getting away with it would be as easy as swatting a fly.”
His lips relaxed into a thin line. “But, perhaps you should consider what you’ll lose. You speak of family, of safety, of innocence, and it is clear that you want to protect this more than anything, but I just have to ask… Did you even listen to a word I said today?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, I didn’t prepare for today’s sermon. I only let His words flow through me for a change. And yet, they could have found no better destination than into your troubled soul, Evelyn. To have come all this way by yourself, despite the risk? I can’t imagine how lonely you must feel to have even considered that as an option. Why, you must really think you’re the only one left in the world right now.”
The pistol shook in her hands. It was like Abraham could read her mind. Evelyn knew how this would end the moment she left the Lodge. Come down here, put a bullet in the leader of the Beholder’s head, and get killed trying to hightail it out. Evelyn wasn’t naive enough to think there would be any other way. But it didn’t matter. With Abraham out of the way, a confrontation would be forced between the Beholders and Pandemonium, and their little camp would get wiped off the face of the earth. And then the threat would be over. If there ever was any chance for Liam and Leah to make it out of this, it would be through this execution. No matter the cost to her.
But damn… Evelyn did not want it to end this way. Right when she and Liam had started to patch things up, he’d been ripped away. Leah too. Now she was by herself. Alone.
With no one to give her the love she craved.
Father Abraham sighed. “You are not alone, Evelyn.”
She snapped back into action. “I swear, I’ll purge you if you say another word!”
“Then I won’t. God speaks to all of us. All we have to do is open our ears and listen.” He stared deep. “Ask yourself this, Evelyn. What is He telling you right now?”
She could barely see straight. Coming down here had all been so simple, in a world where everything became so simple. Fight. Kill. Survive. Repeat. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Otherwise, nothing remained but death. A quick, unavoidable death. Evelyn had spent so long living this reality that she’d forgotten any other way. Even Liam could not break this cycle. He’d only become the latest element to it. They were all still trapped by the mortal dangers that the Hollowing created.
Until a Bible came back into her life. Just like that, Evelyn got a taste of the beyond again. Of the everlasting love that she deserved. That they all deserved. The more she’d contemplated their circumstances, the more it made her wonder…
Could this really have all been random chance? Could her survival have been no more than a fluke in an otherwise quick and bloody extermination? All of this death, and struggle, and pain, and destruction. Had it all just happened because someone forgot to tighten a lid in a lab?
Her chest tightened as doubts flooded her mind, more than she’d ever had before. Was Evelyn truly supposed to follow Mother’s vision? Did her life mean nothing more than to produce children mindlessly so that her children’s children’s children could be strong enough to reclaim the surface? She’d always been repulsed by the incestual bonds that would have to be formed, and it was only at this moment that she could realize just how disgusting that would be. Humanity reborn as a cruel and calculated creature without morals, just as she’d become to survive this long. Was this what God would have wanted for His children? Did He really not watch over them like Mother thought?
And more than anything, Evelyn didn’t want to die. Not in this miserable place, with a hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. Oh, how it was all coming out, right here and right now, and she couldn’t stop it.
Father Abraham raised his arms. “You have nothing to fear, Evelyn. God loves you. Even here. Even now.” The wind picked up outside, cutting through the roof of the tabernacle. Rays of light flourished over his small form.
God speaks to us all, he’d said. Evelyn closed her eyes and opened her ears. The pistol fell from her hands. Yes, she could hear it. Not in a literal sense, but in the depths of her soul. The Lord was here. In this room, watching over her, where He’d been the whole time. Why wouldn’t He be? She deserved His love just like everyone else.
Father Abraham embraced her. She did not resist… Did not think twice about the risk of infection. Her arms merely slid back as Evelyn hugged him back. So soft and accepting, in a world that had always been dark and cold.
He rubbed her hair. “It’s okay, Evelyn. It’s all going to be okay. You’ve found your way back in God’s light, where you belong.”
Evelyn let go of the fight, and the tears flowed free.
