He steps in, one hand behind his back, a look on his face I’ve never seen before. He’s hesitant, which is very unlike the Atlas I’ve gotten to know.
“What’s going on? You look like you’re about to tell me you ran out of coffee.”
“We’d evacuate before that happened.” He holds out a small shipping box. “We’re going into town tomorrow. All of us.”
A wave of panic ripples through me. “Into town?”
I was an active resident down in the city, regularly going out to eat and taking in all the entertainment, at least before Preston started cutting me off from my friends. I went to plenty of events with him, too, and hardly ever sat home, but the thought of leaving this mountain compound has my heart racing.
“Why, and what’s that?” The open box holds a few smaller boxes and a plastic package with something dark inside.
“I’m sure you’re due to see a doctor—” His eyes drop to my midsection. “I got an appointment for you at the clinic in Moon Ridge.” He pushes the box toward me. “This is your disguise.”
When I hesitate to take it, he says, “We don’t have intel that anyone’s sniffing around the area, but I prefer to be careful. There’s a wig, sunglasses, and some makeup.” Atlas makes broad gestures on his face. “Maybe you can darken your eyebrows, change your coloring. Whatever magic you women do with this stuff.”
He’s uncomfortable with the whole conversation, and I can’t help but giggle. “You ordered me a new face?”
“I suppose you could say that, though your real one’s fine.”
Fine.He makes it sound like a glowing compliment.
I set the box on the corner of the bed and unpack the items. The wig is chestnut brown, shoulder length and stick-straight, in contrast to my blonde waves. The sunglasses are oversized with reflective lenses, and the makeup kit is a large pan palette of a few blush colors and several eyeshadows. It’s not the type of makeup meantfor contouring or changing my skintone. I finally found the one area where these men aren’t experts.
“I typically wore a full face of makeup in the city, so maybe a natural look will be the best disguise,” I tell Atlas. “I’ll darken my eyebrows, though, to match the wig.”
He gives me a nod, looking pleased.
“Do I get an alias?”
“You do. I told Dr. Navarro we don’t want any insurance claims or a digital trail. She’s a former military medic and a friend, so she didn’t ask any questions. She has you down in her book as Jennifer Smith.”
“Jennifer Smith.” I try out the name. The two Jennifers I’ve known were quite a bit older than me, and it occurs to me that maybe that’s why the name came to Atlas’s mind.
“One more thing.” He pulls a cell phone from his pocket. “This is yours now, though it’s not traceable to you in any way. You won’t be alone, so you shouldn’t need it, but you should have it anyway.” As I take it from him, he adds, “All our numbers are programmed in.”
In my former life, my phone had been like one of my appendages, vital and always attached. It’s funny to think how much I’ve gotten used to not carrying one.
When I come downstairs the next day in my Jennifer disguise, I receive mixed reviews from the men. I’m wearing the brown wig and darkened eyebrows as planned. I alsogot creative with the brown eyeshadow and blended it into my skin to narrow my nose and sculpt my cheekbones.
Atlas’s eyes do a quick scan before he gives a satisfied nod. “Good. That’ll work.”
Grizz crosses his arms and squints at me. “Yeah, it’ll work, but for the record, I like your real hair better. And your real face.”
A flush creeps up my neck. “Well, thank you. This is just for today.”
“Good,” he mutters.
Meanwhile, Viper doesn’t say a thing, but his eyes inventory every strand of the dark wig and every color shaded on my face. His gaze moves with precision, and by the time he’s done, I feel like I’m standing there naked.
“Ready to go?” Atlas asks.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say before following him to the mudroom. When he gives me a curious look, I ignore my nerves and say, “It feels strange, wearing the wig.”
“We shouldn’t be gone long. It’s a twenty-minute drive into town, and Viper and I will do our shopping while you’re in with the doctor,” Atlas says.
“I’ll be with you at the clinic,” Grizz says, before hastily adding, “In the waiting room.”
When we’re all in our winter gear, we step outside, the three men flanking me. Grizz helps me up into the backseat of the big truck I usually see parked out front. Atlas drives, and Viper sits in thepassenger seat.
