Arrived (20 page)

“Awesome,” Lionel said.

“Now let's listen in on the satellite control room,” Chang said. He clicked a few more keys and brought up audio of people shouting and cursing.

A female worker tried to figure out what had gone wrong. “I don't understand it, sir. One minute I had a bead on these rebels, and then the image was gone.”

“Sir, Commander Fulcire is calling!” someone yelled.

The man cleared his throat and punched the speakerphone.

“This is great,” Lionel said.

“Commander, we're having some technical difficulties, but my technician said she's tracking your convoy and you've gone past the location. It should be easy for you to locate now. There's a fully engaged fire there.”

“We're heading back that way and can see the flames. Can you give me exact coordinates?”

The man replied with a list of numbers Lionel didn't understand. “But with this fire, there's a chance the rebels are on the run.”

“Do a heat imaging of the area to see if you can locate any vehicles or people getting away.”

“We can't, sir. As I said, we're having some technical difficulties.”

“Do you know how long we've been working on this?” Fulcire shouted. “Don't give me technical difficulties. I want answers or heads are going to roll!”

“Yes, sir, we're working on it, sir,” the man said. He hollered at the others, trying to motivate them to fix the problem. Everyone seemed angry at the yellow smiley face.

Chang clicked the keyboard again and smiled. “I can't wait to hear what they'll say when they see this.”

The smiley face changed to a frowning face. Underneath it were the words,
We're so sorry you're having trouble. Keep a positive attitude and maybe you won't lose your heads
.

Lionel thanked God for David Hassid, who had originally designed this computer center. While Chang worked his magic, trying to keep his friends safe, others answered questions from believers and nonbelievers around the world. It was estimated that a billion people every day got information from Tsion Ben-Judah's Web site, and the many mentors around Chang and Lionel were hard at work with Tsion's cyberaudience twenty-four hours a day.

“Let's just hope this buys our people enough time to get out of there,” Chang said.

Mark parked the car behind some trees away from the cabins and stumbled to a hiding place. His knee throbbed. The lower part of his leg tingled since the belt had cut off his blood circulation. He sat on the ground, his back to a tree, and tried to stretch his leg, but it only brought more pain.

The fire and smoke glowed against the black sky. Ashes rose overhead, and trees near the cabins caught fire. Branches and needles crackled.

Mark heard a rumbling and noticed the convoy on the main road. Instead of taking the dirt road, which Mark was sure they couldn't see, the convoy went down an embankment and cut across an open field. They finally found the dirt road and drove through the trees to within fifty yards of the burning cabins.

Mark crawled closer to the vehicles while GC officers jumped out to inspect the cabins. The lead vehicle, a smaller black truck, parked closest to the main cabin, and a tall man got out, cursing.

Fulcire
, Mark thought.

“Check every cabin and the perimeter behind them,” Fulcire shouted. “I want these rebels now!”

As the officers ran, Mark got an idea. Everyone was so intent on following orders that no one paid attention to the vehicles.

He pulled himself up and staggered to the last Humvee. After making sure no one was inside, he quietly opened the driver's door. His heart beat like a freight train when a light went on and a
ding, ding, ding
sounded. He quickly found a button on the doorframe and pressed it, turning off the light and the sound.

Mark grabbed the keys dangling from the ignition, pulled them out, and stuck them in his pants pocket.
One down
, he thought.

Vicki sat on the bed reading the printout Naomi had given her, fascinated with the words of Dr. Ben-Judah. This section dealt with the one thousand year millennial kingdom of Jesus. She giggled.

Judd turned from his computer. “What's so funny?”

“I was just thinking about my life before the Rapture. I would never have dreamed I would be so excited about reading stuff about the Bible.”

“All we've been through has a way of changing your mind about a lot of things,” Judd said. “What's in there?”

“Tons. For example, Tsion believes that in the one thousand year kingdom, God's going to lift the effects of original sin.”

“How?”

“Well, he says it's going to be a lot like the Garden of Eden. All the people who rebelled against God and the bad angels will be gone.”

“And not on vacation.” Judd smirked.

Vicki continued, “God's going to bind Satan so he can't tempt people, and Christ—with the help of angels and believers—will basically enforce God's laws. Everybody will have their own home. There won't be war—”

“That verse about turning swords into farm plows or something …”

“Yeah, Tsion includes that here. It's from Isaiah 2. ‘The Lord will settle international disputes. All the nations will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. All wars will stop, and military training will come to an end.' ”

“I can't imagine a world without war, can you?”

“We won't have to imagine it. It'll be reality soon.”

“What else does he say?”

Vicki turned a page. “Here it is. According to Isaiah 65, Tsion says people will live as long as those before the days of Noah. That means a believer who is born near the beginning of the kingdom could live almost a thousand years.”

“No way.”

“Another verse says a person will still be considered young at the age of one hundred.”

“Sounds ideal.”

“Just think about it,” Vicki said, putting the pages down. “No more drug addicts. No more thieves and murderers. The stuff on TV won't be so violent. Everybody's going to know about God because Jesus will be the true King.”

“I still can't get my mind around it,” Judd said.

“The people who enter into the kingdom in their natural bodies, hopefully like you and me, will still be able to die. There's just so much to learn about—and think, we only have a few months until the whole thing starts.”

“The best thing is, we're going to get to see our friends and family. You'll finally get to meet my mom and dad— and my little brother and sister.”

“I can't wait,” Vicki said.

Mark moved to the next Humvee, but this time he threw the keys as far as he could into the trees. As he crept toward the next vehicle, someone approached from the other side and Mark hit the dirt, the pain in his leg almost making him cry out.

“We're searching now, but my guess is they're not here.” There was no question that this was Fulcire. “What's our intel on their movement?” After a pause, Fulcire cursed and yelled, “Can't you people do anything right!?”

Mark breathed a sigh of relief when the man walked toward the main cabin. The front window was open in the next Humvee so he quickly reached inside, snatched the keys, and tossed them into the woods. This time they pinged off a tree.

Fulcire turned. “People! People! I heard something in the woods to the east. Everybody over there—now!!!”

Mark stayed low to the ground, watching officers move away from the burning cabins.
Perfect
, he thought.
One more set of keys and I'm outta here
.

Mark sneaked to the lead vehicle and pulled himself alongside the driver's window. The tinted glass kept him from seeing inside. He carefully opened the door, and an alarm pierced the night.

“Somebody's messing with the vehicles!” a man shouted.

Mark reached for the keys, but they weren't in the ignition. He pulled the handgun from his pocket and shot out the left front and rear tires as he limped toward the last Humvee. He pulled the keys from his pocket, opened the door, and struggled into the driver's seat. The Humvee roared to life while officers streamed from the woods.

Mark slammed the gearshift in reverse and backed away as the first volley of gunfire hit the Humvee.
Bulletproof glass
, Mark thought.
Lucky me
. In spite of the pain in his leg, he jammed his foot on the accelerator and rocketed down the dirt road, bullets clinking off metal, dust and rocks thrown in the air. In his side mirror he saw flashes of fire from the soldiers' weapons.

Mark focused on the road and turned on his lights. As he neared the main road, he glanced back and saw the frantic officers trying to find their keys. He smiled, knowing he was free.

But he wasn't.

As soon as he turned onto the main road, a bus careened in front of him, cutting him off. Mark jerked the wheel to the right, plunging into a ditch. The Humvee shook and rattled. A sharp pain shot through his right leg, and Mark nearly lost control. As the Humvee jumped out of the ditch, the driver of the bus swerved. Another ditch, this one deeper than the last, loomed in front of him. Mark struggled to keep the vehicle on the road, dodging to his left and hitting the bus, then lurching down the hill into dead trees. He slammed on his brakes with his left foot and watched the bus zip past. Peacekeepers ran forward, shooting at his tires.

Mark whipped the Humvee around and headed east. He was going sixty miles per hour when a Peacekeeper with a rifle opened fire, exploding a front tire. He lost control and veered left as a back tire shredded.

The Humvee, tires smoking now, ran off the road and slammed into a burned tree, knocking it down and sending Mark into the windshield.

Dazed, Mark shook his head and tried to see how badly he was hurt. He felt his forehead and pulled back a handful of blood. He felt like someone had hit him in the face with a baseball bat.

Gotta get out of here
, he thought, reaching for the door handle.

The door opened by itself, or so it seemed. Mark swung his legs around and leaned into the barrels of several Global Community guns.

“We have him, Commander,” one said into a radio. The man grabbed Mark's gun and threw it away. Then he twisted Mark's hands behind him and cuffed them.

Mark went limp and collapsed.

21

MARK
awoke in the back of the bus, handcuffed and aching. His right leg felt like it was hanging on by a thread. His belt was still buckled tightly around his knee. His eyes stung, and he realized blood had trickled down his forehead while he was unconscious. He leaned forward to the seat in front of him and rubbed his eyes for relief.

The Peacekeepers weren't happy. They had expected to fill the bus with rebels. A Humvee followed, and Mark figured Commander Fulcire was in it.

Mark sat back and tried to get comfortable. His shoulders throbbed, and his hands had fallen asleep. He tried to pray and remembered a verse Marshall Jameson had talked about during one of their meetings—the one about the Holy Spirit praying for believers with groans that can't be expressed. At the time Mark hadn't understood the concept, but now he was living it. Though he couldn't form the words, God knew what was going on.