Adam: erases identities

She called him Adam. He called her Eve.

Those weren’t their names, of course. The who they’d once been had been excised from their lives with the same surgical precision they used on jobs like this. Adam had begun that process when he shucked his previous identity like a snake shedding its dead skin. Then he’d helped Eve do the same, carving out the tumor of her past. Cleaning their back trail was easy, even in the internet age. People only thought it was impossible—the internet never forgets, and all that—but it wasn’t impossible, merely difficult. And there is a joy in doing something difficult. Ask any gamer. Ask a mountain climber.

The physical evidence took longer. Schools they had each attended. Family doctors, X-rays in dentist offices, therapists, dojos, gun ranges, juvenile detention centers. Everything, though, burns. People with the kind of specific memory that could have evidentiary weight were handled differently. Never the same way twice.

That was the key. Never create a pattern.

Being patternless was very hard work. It was creative work, patient work. Delicious work.

-Rage pg. 94-95, Kindle Edition.