The Sealing

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The Sealing Page 12

by Patrick Higgins


  Dr. Singh couldn’t have been any more impressed with the new hospital. So much was accomplished in so little time.

  Even despite that the concrete floors were uneven in some places, the industrial-strength air and water filtration units, and all medical equipment were working to perfection. The operating, delivery and recovery rooms were ready to be used. With the first baby just days away from being born, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

  But as the only doctor on the premises for now, the massive hospital occupying the entire bottom floor of the first hole overwhelmed her.

  It was too much hospital for only one doctor. She silently feared it would soon be too small a hospital for the constant barrage of patients.

  Much of the subterranean space was still being organized. But the underground jail was finished. Each room was fitted with comfy beds, chairs, Bibles, and soft colored walls with LED screens hanging on them, ready to project pleasant sceneries and Bible quotations for all sent there.

  Everyone prayed they would never be used.

  Another area now operational was the top floor of the second hole. Underground hatcheries and plant beds took up a large chunk of that space. With the use of aquaponics technology, which was the combination of aquaculture and hydroponics, the tanks were stocked with catfish and tilapia. In these semi-closed systems, water flowed between the fish tanks and the nearby fruit and vegetable plant beds.

  The fish waste in the water supplied nutrients to the plants. The micro-organisms in the plants cleaned the water that was then returned to the fish tanks. This provided a mutually beneficial environment for both.

  Most safe houses were farming crops and fish this way.

  At safehouse number one, fish tanks teemed with fish; and thousands of plants were already budding. They had plenty of seed to last seven years. And plenty of canned and freeze-dried foods to last that time.

  What they didn’t have was absolute assurance that the safehouse would be here long enough to eat all the food and plant more seed.

  Before the large equipment was shipped off to the next location, two more holes were dug and one tunnel; one was more like a ditch. It was risky, they knew, extremely risky, but if safehouse number one was still standing when Jesus returned, with so many children expected, they would need a place for trash disposal.

  Recycling wasn’t a factor. In a suddenly disposable planet, why bother? With the closest neighbor three miles away, they hoped no one other than the birds, insects and rodents would discover it.

  The last hole dug at the far-left end of the property was a 20-foot ditch they would use for burials. Sadly, it had already been used. The first death was an overweight construction worker from New Mexico who suffered a massive heart attack on the job. Estranged from his wife and kids, after they buried him, a sympathy card was sent to his unsaved loved ones back in Taos, New Mexico, offering their condolences.

  The card was given to a driver in Kennett Square on one of his deliveries to Chadds Ford. He mailed it in the state of Maryland after delivering supplies to a safehouse down there.

  The front of the card read: Sorry For Your Loss. Inside the card was Psalm 116:15, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” The hope was that God would use that verse to cause his family to contemplate life on the other side, using the Holy Bible as their guide.

  At any rate, his death was a sobering moment for everyone at safe house number one. It made them realize just how cut off they really were from the rest of the world. They feared many would soon join him there; but only their bodies, not their souls...

  THANKS TO GOD’S PROVIDENCE, they were able to retrieve the large equipment, medical equipment and medicines Jefferson Danforth had generously set aside for them.

  It took several trips using twenty leased 18-wheeler trucks, but the four massive-sized warehouses were completely emptied of all their contents and divvied proportionately between the safehouses.

  It was then that Australian billionaire and ETSM member, Nigel Jones, put his three Gulfstream V planes into service.

  Since the global businessman had contacts worldwide, his planes weren’t red flagged as they crisscrossed the globe delivering cash and supplies to their brothers and sisters on all five continents.

  Travis Hartings offered to pay all costs, including fuel, crew and aircraft upkeep, but Jones declined, saying he would never be able to spend his fortune before Jesus returned. He also hinted that if anything were ever to happen to him, it would all be given to the ETSM.

  They even managed to successfully ship a few robotic bricklaying machines and metal earth worms across the northern and southern borders to their Canadian and Mexican brethren in Christ, so they could better fortify their safehouses as well.

  While those two countries had this large equipment in vast quantities, what ETSM members living there didn’t have were people in power willing to help them, which meant their leaders couldn’t be trusted.

  Drivers delivering the equipment across the borders convinced border agents that they were part of a humanitarian effort in the Western Hemisphere to help rebuild what the enemy had recently destroyed. But more times than not the trucks were denied passage.

  Some living in those countries managed to purchase equipment on the black market, or from bankrupt construction companies, with money sent from Travis Hartings.

  But most didn’t have that luxury…

  AS AMERICA FELL DEEPER and deeper into decline, God used this time to answer Clayton Holmes’ and Travis Hartings’ prayers to help protect their many safehouses. The Most High did this by connecting members of the American Freedom Keepers group to the ETSM.

  With the U.S. military in total disarray, and with Lois Cipriano now in charge, trying to protect the country they loved was a crazy pipeline dream that needed to be put out of mind for good.

  Even if their former patriots in arms still had hopes of seeing America become the most powerful country on earth again, it would never happen. In short, there would be no successful retaliation on their end.

  Upon joining the End Times Salvation Movement, they were deployed to every safe house in the U.S. to stand guard. Their collective focus shifted from offensive to defensive, from fighting for the country they loved so much, to protecting all ETSM properties—especially the multitudes of children soon to inhabit their many locations...

  Like everyone invited before them, after being quickly vetted, they had to cut all ties with unbelieving families, including unsaved spouses.

  Twelve of them were deployed to Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania for now. Some even agreed to help guard safehouses abroad.

  But with the organization’s strict “no kill” policy in effect, keeping everyone safe from harm would be no easy task. Setting bear traps outside the perimeter, using stun guns, poison-tipped arrows and rubber bullets could only do so much to protect their brothers and sisters in harm’s way.

  Though they understood the rules of engagement perfectly clear, the guards often warned that if any of their locations ever came under enemy fire, chances were good it would be the last day on the planet for everyone living there, except for their children, who would ultimately be raised in the Global Community.

  Holmes and Hartings understood and shared their concerns, and knew they had a right to protect their land. But if someone was ever killed on their properties, it would bring unwanted attention their way.

  After many debates on the topic, the ETSM leaders promised to take their request to better arm each location under prayerful advisement, if only for the children’s sake. But until they heard from God, one way or the other, killing the enemy wasn’t an option.

  In the meantime, anyone living in a safe house was assigned 30-minute time slots to pray for the protection of the End Times Salvation Movement, and for Christians who hadn’t had dreams and, therefore, couldn’t be invited to live on their properties for now. This was as important as their daily chores.

  Bottom line, someone w
as always praying. And standing guard.

  18

  WITH NEARLY THREE MONTHS to organize, and with more than a million members in America working around the clock at breakneck speed, more than a thousand ETSM locations had already been fortified using the large equipment, 500 at a time.

  Hundreds of other safe house locations never had access to the large equipment. Either their locations were too small, they were situated in difficult to reach, hilly places, or they were too out in the open and would draw too much attention their way. They were given excavators only.

  The Kennett Square farm was now in possession of the large equipment. It was delivered from a newly fortified safe house just outside Harrisburg. What made this particular location so difficult to renovate was, with the global food crisis worsening, aside from providing food and dairy for the ETSM, the farm was required to produce food and dairy for local hospitals, prisons, and grocery stores.

  With so many delivery trucks coming and going throughout the day, all underground digging was done at night.

  Before the Rapture, the farm owners always proclaimed to be followers of Jesus. To a certain extent they were. Only they weren’t saved. Of Mennonite descent, like their Amish brethren, they believed in a strong work ethic, which was a good thing.

  The problem was that they had become too legalistic in their thinking and started believing their good works counted for something in the eyes of God. They failed to understand that they weren’t saved by works, but unto them.

  It took being left behind to finally understand what Paul meant in Galatians 2:16: “...A man is not justified by observing the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ. So we, too, have put our faith in Christ Jesus that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by observing the law, because by observing the law no one will be justified.”

  In short, they finally understood it was God’s grace that saved anyone, not a combination of His grace and His Law (works).

  At present, less than 50 members lived at the Kennett Square safehouse. But with the property resting on more than 300 acres of soon-to-be worthless soil, soon they would house as many Tribulation saints as the land would allow.

  With the severe sun blockage and erratic temperature changes, crops and vegetables were in extreme short supply. Not only that, eggs were selling in stores for a dollar a piece. Bread sold for $10 a loaf. A gallon of milk sold for $20. Fruits and vegetables were so expensive that only few could afford them. Most tried growing their own crops but had great difficulty. Seed was difficult to obtain. And where it was available for purchase, it was too expensive for most.

  This wasn’t price gouging. It was purely supply versus demand.

  Worse, economists weren’t optimistic that prices would ultimately drop, only increase. The hundreds of millions who were part of Romanero’s relocation program and received vouchers for free food and housing for a year, would soon see just how short-lived and shallow his promises to them really were, once the food voucher program ended next summer.

  Donald Johnson was preparing to go back to the Philippines, where he once was a Mormon missionary for many years. Now that he was saved, he planned on going back to Southeast Asia to help manage a safe house, a few miles outside of Manila, that had yet to be fortified.

  The tall and lanky ex-Mormon from Salt Lake City spent lots of time going back and forth from safe house number one and the Kennett Square farm. The one thing the Mormons and Amish and Mennonites had in common was that all had perfected the art of freeze-dried foods.

  Whatever scraps weren’t delivered, were canned and freeze-dried for future consumption. Nothing was left to spoil.

  While most farmers were required to provide meats and produce for the general population, even had the ETSM not agreed to give them $100M, as fellow believers, they still would have shared the firstfruits with them.

  At safe house number one alone, hundreds of gallons of milk and 5,000 eggs were set aside each week. While the massive construction was happening, they delivered twice that amount.

  The pick-up time was every Monday at 3 a.m. Like all other ETSM locations receiving food deliveries from this farm, two trucks were used. The one being returned to the farm was empty.

  The driver of that truck left the keys in the ignition and hopped in the other truck that was loaded with food supplies.

  Travis Hartings purchased eight refrigerated delivery trucks from a seafood company that went out of business a month after the disappearances. Four were wrapped in the Kennett Square farm logo.

  The other four advertised fictitious organizations and would be used solely for ETSM deliveries. All were registered under the T.H. Corporation. The magnet on the side of the Chadds Ford delivery truck advertised an orphanage in Philadelphia for troubled teens.

  Most of the fuel burned on these trips wasn’t from driving from point A to B, but from taking so many detours along the way, to ensure that no one was following them. What normally took 20 minutes round trip now took twice as long. At least that much.

  On September 1st, Joaquim Guzman made his first delivery to safe house number one. On his second delivery the following week, he met Leticia Gonzalez. She was in the cafeteria preparing breakfast.

  All it took was one smile from her and the young man’s heart skipped a beat. He nearly dropped the large box of eggs he’d just unloaded from the truck onto the floor. Even though he was only 15, and she was 12, he fell in love with Leticia at first glance.

  The fact that she was pregnant mattered not to him. After inquiring, he was thrilled to hear she was still single.

  Joaquim sought and received permission to visit safehouse number one occasionally, for church services and Bible studies.

  After six weeks, he wanted to marry Leticia. If they ever got married, Leticia made it known to Joaquim that she would want to remain in Chadds Ford with her parents. He had no problem with that. It mattered not to Joaquim where they lived, so long as they were together. With his parents gone, all he wanted was to feel part of a family again…

  FARM DELIVERIES WEREN’T THE only shipments being made to ETSM safe houses; there were many others. As popular as online shopping was before the Rapture, with most people once again too terrified to leave their homes, 99% of all purchases made in the world were done online.

  Very few citizens dined in restaurants anymore, forcing even the fanciest restaurants to deliver to those who still had the means.

  Even doctors and nurses were making house visits again.

  Like all other ETSM safe house locations, products ordered online were delivered to vacant houses a few miles away from the Chadds Ford property. With the populace reduced by two-thirds, and so many vacant homes in America, there were many locations from which to choose.

  The key was to be there when the order was delivered, before someone else collected it, namely squatters. As bad as porch piracy was before the disappearances, like all other illegal enterprises, it had grown exponentially since the Rapture.

  Since ETSM residents never entered the houses at which their orders were shipped, they had no way of knowing if squatters lived in them or not. Which is why they were always there when the deliveries were made.

  Once electricity was restored, and American citizens started repatriating, they would have to be twice as vigilant.

  Jacquelyn monitored all deliveries online. When the delivery truck was five stops away, she dispatched two teenage residents to drive there and wait in the car, until the parcel truck was clear out of sight, before collecting the packages.

  Teenagers and young adults did most of the outside running around errands for the organization, and collected all shipments delivered to vacant houses within a five-mile radius of the Chadds Ford residence.

  The youngsters were sent out two at a time, on a rotating basis, so their faces wouldn’t become too familiar to outsiders. Escape routes were planned in advance, in case they ever encountered trouble.

  Of the many supplies Jefferson Danforth had provided for t
hem, surgical masks were the first things they ran out of. Over the past two months, ETSM members in Chadds Ford went through two thousand masks per day. They couldn’t keep them in stock.

  This was the case with most U.S. locations. Thankfully, the sky above the property had cleared to the extent that, save for a few residents still battling respiratory issues—including Brian Mulrooney—this latest shipment for 200,000 surgical masks should last a while.

  With the great demand for their product came restrictions; namely, sellers limited their customers to 10,000 per shipment. To combat this, orders were shipped to 20 different vacant houses within a 10-mile radius of safe house number one, under different names.

  If there was one good thing, since most online companies were severely cash-strapped, aside from placing strict limits on most orders, they weren’t overly cautious with where or to whom their products were shipped. They were just grateful for the business.

  With so much urgency, and with many weeks to get organized, safe house number one was starting to become a well-oiled machine.

  Many other ETSM locations were slowly catching up.

  Sadly, the number of believers out fending for themselves, who hadn’t had dreams, and weren’t part of the organization, kept rising.

  Just knowing so many of their brothers and sisters were starving and freezing to death, weighed heavily on the two ETSM leaders, piercing them both deeply inside. They were praying and fasting and seeking Divine guidance on the best way to help them.

  If they could invite the many who’d contacted them on the Last Shot At Redemption website to live on their properties, they would have already done it by now. But they couldn’t—not until they had dreams…

  19

  WITH SO MUCH ATTENTION being brandished on Hana Patel, Brian Mulrooney understood why the emails he and Jacquelyn had sent to her had all gone unanswered. Even Meera Singh sent a few emails to the Patels, in their native tongue, but to no avail.

 

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