Eliza opened her eyes to find that she could see nothing more than when they were closed. 

Groaning, she rolled over onto her stomach. She was startled to feel a limp hand under her shoulder, and when her eyes had adjusted to the dark she discovered a grizzled man drooling on the ground. His name was Silas, and she had been drinking in the church attic with him all afternoon. [i]Shit.[/i]

Stumbling to her feet, Eliza pulled on her boots and adjusted her skirt. Her white tlouse was stained with hooch and sticky with sweat, but it would have to do for now. Silas was snoring, and she looked away from him in disgust. He was a loathsome sonofabitch, but he always had alcohol on his person. To Eliza, this was a plus. If the oaf ever touched her she'd tear his fucking throat out, but for now it was good to have a friend. 

Eliza kelt down to rifle through Silas's pockets. [i]25 cents and a pocket watch. Poor bastard.[/i] She pocketed the money and left the watch, which read 9:07, on the ground next to him. People would be arriving at the chapel right about now to help guard the town from the evil that threatened it at night. Eliza's Yellow Boy was leaning against the wall, and she grabbed it and slung it over her shoulder.

Taking a last swig from the bottle by Silas's feet, she opened the trap door in the floor of the attic and creaked down the ladder to the wooden floor of the church. Cyrus was talking to someone around the corner, so she closed the door quietly and took a deep breath. Her hair was in her face. She pushed it aside.

Peering around the corner, she addressed the back of Cyrus's head. "Evening, old man. We gonna have company tonight?"