Chapter Eight
“You might wonder why I call myself ‘God-fearing’. I fear God’s wrath not out of a lack of faith, but because it is He who has punished us for our own hubris. Only through repentance to Him can we be saved!”
–Father Elijah Campbell. Larkspur, Colorado, 20 Days After.
* * *
Time again to take off the mask.
Leah had let Liam Fenix lie down in one of the living rooms of her suite while she showered. That would give the human a couple hours to rest and recover while she purified herself. Preparations would need to be made, and the next couple meetings would make all the difference, especially her first with Mother.
This night was far from over.
Leah first took off her clothes. The sheepskin jacket had been torn, and her jeans were stained and dusty. She folded them next to her boots and socks. Her T-shirt with supplies came next, then her bra, and then her underwear. None were much improved, but there was no way out of it. She’d have to get them all cleaned.
Only after her clothing was cleared did she remove her scarf. She did not trust anyone else to wash it. That was her job alone, and she’d made a habit of running it through the sink while undergoing every other step.
Now disrobed, Leah rubbed fingers across her naked torso. The wound to her shoulder was blackened and closing, but she breathed a sigh of relief. Necrosis hadn’t sullied the area enough to warrant another skinjob, and it would be healed within the day. She felt around her limbs. Cracks and wrinkles were inevitable after this much time in the field, though Leah had done well to keep her body from being too far strained. The real concern was the pallid look that her skin had started to take. The summer sun was rough.
Leah stepped into the shower. Water flowed over her frame, clearing out any grime that had built, or ointments she had applied. This part of the process was by far the easiest now that Pandemonium had a working plumbing system. Even with the added step of applying shampoo with built-in conditioner for her dried scalp, she spent mere minutes doing what had once taken hours.
When her shower was complete, Leah brought out the container of isopropyl and rag she kept below the sink. The Hollowing was the antithesis of life. Bacteria couldn’t form inside her organs where it had spread its corruption. But the same couldn’t be said for her skin, which still decomposed from the outside in when not maintained. Before she could even think of applying protections, she had to disinfect her flesh first.
And so that was what Leah did. Slowly, carefully, she wiped every inch of her form. Every orifice, every fissure, leaving nowhere untouched. Leah was methodical in her movement, as even the tiniest gap could cause blemishes to form and spread. The aroma of alcohol filled the bathroom as the process wore on.
With her body sufficiently cleansed, Leah moved onto the preservation part of her routine. The brand of anti-aging serum she used had been designed by a local in downtown Asphodel, and she had found it to have no old world rival in efficacy. Moisturizer came after the serum set in. Retaining water was important, especially with the dryness of this time of year. She went through a full quart before satisfied. Sunscreen came last, and was applied to any part of her body that might end up exposed. Even with the heaviest of clothing, there was nothing that truly helped stave off the deleterious effects of the sun on her skin like an added coat of UV protection, even if sunlight lessened the Hunger.
Leah left the shower, washed the excess alcohol and oils down the drain, and went to the sink. Her scarf was sufficiently soaked, so she removed it to dry. She then returned to the mirror, ignored her Mark, and only focused on her eyes, applying mascara to draw attention away from all else, along with adding a cosmetic cream to give her cheeks an even color.
Leah went to the clothing room of her suite and dug through the many options she’d cultivated. Underwear and bras were only valuable in the utility they provided, and most of her jeans were built the same. She dug through shirts and found the one with the most pockets. Old world soldiers often wore flak jackets to keep bullets from piercing anything vital, and so Leah had designed her T-shirts for the same purpose. Just about all of them could hold more than a dozen mags, insulated canteens with blood, some flesh-based gum from the Larder, a flashlight, binoculars, her black steel combat knife, and a Velcro holster for her 1911, modified to accommodate the added suppressor. Each clung to her chest, always within arm’s reach, and none too heavy. Unlike the living with their flak jackets, there was no value in protecting the soft organs beneath. Most of them did nothing anymore. Additional gear could also work its way onto her sheepskin jacket, should the need arise. Leah swapped the damaged pair for a replacement, this one brown and buttoned, while most were black and zippered. Where the flesh of the undead was malleable and in constant decay, rezzers had a habit of expressing themselves mostly through their clothing, and this was where Leah had drifted herself. Sheepskin jackets were comfortable against her skin, kept the elements at bay, and made her feel unique. With a final pull of black leather gloves inlaid with cotton over her wrists, her outfit was complete.
Well, almost complete. Leah returned to the rack and air-dried her burgundy scarf. Of all the articles that she had collected, none bore more significance than her scarf. It was more meaningful than any pile of books, and brought about a memory more profound than any box of pics could ever provide. Were Leah to ever lose this cornerstone of her identity, there would be little to keep the Hollowing at bay. She gripped the fabric in her hand, knowing all that it represented.
Time again to put on the mask.
* * *
Tartarus was the district that lay between Asphodel and Elysium. Where Asphodel was the center of commerce and Elysium the nexus of power, Tartarus sat as the wild west in between. Stray too far from the main routes of traffic, and it wasn’t uncommon to get mugged by a gang of desperate dregs, attacked by some opportunistic worker, or worse, even face someone who had recently rehollowed. Hunters could only cover so much territory, and most inhabitants of Tartarus were too poor to put out an enticing contract. That left them at the mercy of localized union cartels who offered protection and community maintenance in exchange for a cut of the pics that trickled in. Most of the bosses turned a blind eye to the poverty, and the constant threat of hollowing kept the rest in line. After all, who wouldn’t prefer hard labor and the opportunity to advance, when the alternative meant having no chance at all?
So it only made sense that Mother had set up her operation here, right in the heart of the district. Mother’s Grace had once been a hospital in the old world. In many ways, it still was, even if only some of the equipment was still operational.
Leah approached with Liam Fenix and Kurt in tow. The others had their own errands to conduct, and nobody would harass the pair with Kurt by their side.
Twin columns rose above a six lane road in front. Whitestone encased glass in a set of ten story buildings. The central tower connected the two above an open tunnel, its boundary like a giant, glass monolith. The names of the old world humans who had built this acropolis had all been scrubbed. It only stood apart from the rest of the city with the great banners that fell from the roof, white fabric with a red cross in the middle. Where all else in sight had the fractures and shattered glass that was present for the rest of Tartarus, Mother’s Grace resonated an aura of security.
Like everything else in Pandemonium, the tranquility was only skin deep. Guards dressed in scrubs patrolled the perimeter brandishing AR-15s with soft-point rounds, lest thieves attempt to pilfer Mother for all she had built. Traffic was monitored at every entrance through security checkpoints. And for all the talk of anyone being allowed inside its walls, no shortage of patients were turned away by the day. There were only so many qualified physicians and resources to go around.
The group cleared the checkpoint and went through the halls. Moans of the injured were a constant torrent, and the smell of death was heavier here than anywhere else. No surprise, given the circumstances. Broken prosthetics needed to be replaced, severed limbs had to be sewn back onto their owners, skinjobs were necessary as the luxury service of grafting foreign skin, and dead organs had to be removed where applicable. In addition to servicing the medical needs of the undead, Mother had also broken one of the wards into a post-hollow rehabilitation center for those who had slipped too far, and the other into a hospice for displaced workers in need of a place of comfort.
Leah knew these halls well, and quickly navigated her way to the trauma center. If Mother was in town, she would be there, though she had a habit of disappearing for weeks, if not months at a time.
Not today. Mother was in the heart of the mess, dressed in a lab coat that was caked in undead ichor. Her blonde hair was streaked in white, and her violet eyes had a calmness that bordered indifference as she snapped the bones of a patient’s twisted arm back into place. She had hollowed during her middle age, and did little to protect her skin more than necessary. Her face had thus shriveled into what appeared to be an older, frailer woman, though that was mere deception. Of everyone else in Pandemonium, there was none more intelligent.
Nor manipulative.
“Mother,” Leah hailed.
The two made eye contact, and Mother continued her operation. “You don’t look like you need care, Leah.”
“I don’t,” Leah said, “but this is important.”
“Isn’t it always important with you?”
“This isn’t about me.” She nodded to Liam Fenix. “My friend here. You need to see him.”
Mother kept her eyes on her work. “There are plenty of attendees around who can see to his needs.”
Leah sighed. “I don’t think you get it, Mother. You need to see him.”
Only then was her impassivity pierced. Mother looked at the ensemble that Liam Fenix was buried under and knew the truth.
She could see the solution that their world had been craving for years.
Mother quietly found a replacement and ushered the group down the hall, away from the trauma center and into her private office.
Liam Fenix yanked off his balaclava and tinted goggles the moment they were clear. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “You have no idea how stifling that is.”
Leah kept her eyes on Mother. “Well?”
Mother switched her dirty gloves for a fresh pair. “Well, what?”
She scoffed. “How fucking long have you been asking for this? How long have you wanted to examine a living human again? Now one’s right in front of you, and you’re pulling this shit?”
“Hold out your arm,” Mother said to Liam Fenix as she pulled a syringe free. Back to ignoring me, huh?
He complied, and she drew some of his red, living blood. Leah’s tongue burned at the sight of fresh blood flowing free. The Hunger was a real bitch.
“So where were you hiding?” Mother asked, pretending she didn’t feel the same.
Liam Fenix explained his story again, about being marooned on an island for the entirety of the Hollowing, and about how much effort he’d put in to find his way back. As much as Leah could find humans soft, there was no denying that Liam Fenix had pulled off nothing short of a miracle traversing the sea by himself. Not even she could’ve executed that one.
Mother listened with her usual bare neutrality, only interjecting to ask questions about his diet and medical history. She drew several vials of blood, each for a different test.
“Is it true then?” Liam Fenix asked. “Can you use me to end this mess?”
“Our understanding of HBRS-15.21 has evolved,” Mother said, referring to the Hollowing by its scientific name. “With the proper resources, anything is possible. It will take time and need to happen under the right conditions, however.”
The human frowned. “I still can’t believe how much has changed. Not just the city, but even this place. To think that I used to come by this very hospital twice a month for shots before heading abroad.”
“You lived around here before?” Mother asked.
He nodded. “Lakewood, to be specific. God, it was always a nightmare coming all the way up here, but it couldn’t be helped. Between my agent and my wife, I couldn’t have anything but the best of care.”
Leah grimaced beneath her scarf. “Didn’t know you were married.” She’d always wondered what such a union would feel like.
“Still am.” He smiled meekly and looked from one to the other. “You never know, right?”
Mother and Leah let the moment sit uncontested. This wasn’t the first time that either had seen a human in denial, though Leah considered that this would probably be the last.
“I suppose that is true,” Mother deflected. “As for yourself, Mr Fenix, I’ll have more information for you once the tests are complete. For now, I’d ask that you wait in one of my isolation units. My security will be able to better watch you there than here.”
“Kurt can guard him just fine,” Leah said.
Only then did Mother acknowledge her existence again. “Perhaps we should talk about this further in private.”
“I won’t be a burd–” Liam Fenix started.
“It’s fine,” Leah snapped. “You should clear the floor, Liam Fenix. All that blood will start drawing attention.” She stared Mother down. “And the two of us should catch up.”
“If you insist,” he squeaked.
Kurt returned when prompted, and Liam Fenix made his escape, leaving just Mother and Leah alone. It had been years since they were by themselves like this.
“How have you been?” Mother asked.
“Still surviving,” Leah said.
“Is that what you call what you’re doing?”
“That’s what everyone calls what we’re doing.”
She shrugged. “I see. I guess you haven’t changed then.”
Of course she’d be difficult. “What the fuck do you want from me, Mother? An apology for what we did? I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Mother raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here? I don’t have pics to offer.”
Leah met her head on. “I didn’t come all this way to dance in circles. It’s just you and me, so no more bullshit. Is there any hope to cure the Hollowing or not?”
Mother looked out the window, her eyes tracing the distant floodlights of Elysium. “There’s always been hope. We’ve just been too arrogant to take it.” She turned back. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why are you here, Leah?”
Why, indeed. This wasn’t how Leah normally conducted herself. She had learned long ago that the only way to survive was to become more hard and more vicious than everyone else. In a world where the dead butchered the dead just to keep their minds intact, it had made sense for her to fight the everlasting inferno with a fury of her own.
But that had all been changing lately. Leah could feel it in the air. She could taste it every time she finished a Hunt. That intangible, ephemeral sensation that she had never known. Those experiences that she could never gain while undead, and had only ever viewed through the looking glass of the past. Was that what drove her onward? That desire to be what she had only seen?
“I want to put my feet in the water and feel the cold,” Leah admitted. “I want to stare over a cliff and know true fear. I want to make love with another. I don’t want to be the monster anymore, or to feel so fucking hungry all the time. I want to look a child in the eye and know that my story will continue, even with me gone.” Tears began to well, and her voice cracked. “Fuck, I want to live!”
Leah dabbed the reddish fluid from her eyes and pulled her scarf further up. She hadn’t expected to break down like this, and didn’t know how she’d felt until the words came tumbling out, but now they were here, and she couldn’t shy away from them anymore.
If there was anything in this world that Leah craved, it was the life that she’d been damned to never have.
Mother stared in silence, her own face hidden behind the cowl of impartiality.
“It’s more than possible,” she said at last.
Leah gaped. “Seriously?”
“This isn’t like the old days, Leah. We have more resources than we know what to do with, and a better understanding of HBRS-15.21 than even its creators. Provided I have the right ingredients and instrumentation, I could easily reverse its mechanism.”
Leah stared deep. “How would you do it?” She had to hear the process out loud. She had to know that she wasn’t being bullshitted.
Mother stroked her chin in contemplation. “I could attempt healthy enzyme infusion in infected ganglia, or perhaps use DNA realignment with Liam Fenix’s hemoglobin as the base. Worst comes to worst, and I’ll develop a counter-serum that only targets HBRS pseudo-cells.” She met Leah in the eye. “There are no shortages of avenues that can be taken. Some could be properly tested within hours. Weeks, at the absolute latest.”
Leah had never been strong in the sciences, but Mother was being uncharacteristically confident. When was the last time she made a guarantee like this?
“Don’t screw around with me, Mother. If this is false hope, and you can’t deliver…”
Mother smiled. “Make no mistake, Leah. This is the only hope we have. Without it, there will be no future.”
A world without hollowing. Something that rezzers liked to fantasize about, but that none truly believed would come. It was their ultimate daydream, their Jesus-come-again moment. To hear that it might be possible from the one person capable of fulfilling the task… Leah didn’t know whether to laugh or cry!
“What about Hades?” Mother suddenly asked.
Leah grimaced. “Let me deal with him.”
“You know where he’ll stand.”
“I don’t have a choice, do I? I got spotted nabbing the human.”
“You don’t know that he knows.”
“I do know what will happen to me if he does.”
Mother went destitute, all her energy deflated. “Just don’t forget what we talked about.”
Leah turned to leave. “I won’t.”
As she was about to make her leave, Mother called for her one last time. “It was good to see you again, Leah. Take care of yourself.”
Leah wanted to say the same, but she couldn’t.
Not after what Mother had done.
