The Mark: The Beast Rules the World

by Tim LaHaye

  “You all right, son?” Rayford asked.

  “Got work to do is all,” Zeke said, averting his eyes. And he shuffled back toward his room.

  Buck had a bad taste in his mouth. He had been in these situations before, had seen enough depravity and mayhem to last several lifetimes. But he wished he and Albie had brought high-powered automatic weapons so they could at least attempt a rescue. How, in his flesh, he wanted to spray deadly projectiles into the swarming GC. How he would love to have stormed the detention barracks, looking for people with the mark of Christ and ferrying them to safety.

  But here was an impossible situation. Prophecy was once again coming to life before his eyes, and he would not be able to turn away. At the west building, the eight members of the culling team were checked in past the outer fence, and then again at the main entrance.

  Buck was assaulted by the stench as soon as they had cleared the main corridor. Inside a huge cage milled more than a hundred male teenagers, some looking tough, others petrified. The cage was surrounded with four to five guards on a side, weapons in hand, smoking, reading magazines, and looking bored.

  The teenagers jumped and cheered and applauded when the team entered. “Freedom!” one shouted while the rest laughed. “They’ve come to free us!” And others jeered and mocked.

  Athenas stepped away from the others and put up both hands for quiet. Buck sidled to a guard, who dropped his magazine and straightened up. “Sir?” he said.

  “What’s the smell, soldier?”

  “The cans, sir. In the corners, see?”

  Buck looked to the four corners of the cage where 55-gallon drums stood. Each had a makeshift wooden set of steps next to it and was covered by an ill-fitting toilet seat. “This building has no facilities?”

  “Only for us,” the guard said. “Just down that hall.”

  Buck shook his head. “They can’t be led there periodically?”

  “Not enough of us to risk that.”

  Alex Athenas had finally commanded the prisoners’ attention. “You are privileged to be among the first to display your loyalty and devotion to His Excellency, the risen potentate of the Global Community, Nicolae Carpathia!”

  To Buck’s amazement, this was met with enthusiastic cheering and applause that went on for almost a minute. Some teens broke into chants and songs, lauding Carpathia.

  Athenas finally quieted them again. “In a few moments you will be led to the central building, where you will tell the staff whether you want your loyalty mark on your forehead or your right hand. The area you choose will then be disinfected with an alcohol solution. When it is your turn, you will enter a cubicle, where you will sit and be injected with a biochip, while simultaneously tattooed with the prefix 216, which identifies you as a citizen of the United Carpathian States. The application takes just seconds. The disinfectant also contains a local anesthetic, and you should experience no discomfort.

  “Any acts of disorderly conduct will be met with immediate justice. For you illiterates, that means you will be dead before you hit the floor.”

  This was met with more hooting and hollering, but Buck found himself staring at a boy in the middle of the crowd. He had black, curly hair, was thin and pasty, and wore tilting glasses that appeared to have one lens missing. The boy looked barely old enough to be in this crowd, but what caught Buck’s eye was the shadow on his forehead. Or was it a smudge? Or was it the seal of God?

  “Excuse me, officer!” Buck said, striding past Athenas and peering into the cage. The hooting stopped and the prisoners stared. “You, there! Yes, you! Step forward!”

  The young man made his way through the crowd to the front of the cage, where he stood quaking. “Someone open this door!” Buck barked. No one moved. He whirled to look at the guard he had spoken to, who shuffled nervously and looked at Athenas.

  “The rest of you back off,” Athenas said, and he nodded to the guard, who unlocked the cage.

  Buck marched in and grabbed the boy by the arm, his ratty, gray sweater bunching under Buck’s fingers. He dragged him out of the cage, past Athenas and the other guards, scolding him the whole way. “You mock Global Community Peacekeepers, young man? You’ll learn respect.”

  “No, sir, please—I, I—”

  “Shut up and keep moving!”

  Buck dragged him past the guards at the entrance, who called after him, “Wait! Who is that! We have to process him out!”

  “Later!” Buck said.

  “Where are we going?” the boy pleaded with a Greek accent.

  “Home,” Buck whispered.

  “But my parents are here.”

  “Give me their names,” Buck said, and he wrote them down. “I can’t guarantee they’ll get out. But you’re not going to die tonight.”

  “You’re a believer?”

  Buck nodded and shushed him.

  They blew past the guards at the outer gate, and Buck marched him to the GC jeep across the road. Past the lights and into the shadows, few heads had even turned to watch. “Front passenger side,” Buck said. “Any other believers in the cage?”

  The boy shook his head. “Never saw anyone.”

  “Give me the name of one of the guys in the cage, just one.”

  “Who?”

  “Anyone. Just give me a name.”

  “Ah, Paulo Ganter.”

  “Got it. Now listen. You are to sit here, right here in this jeep, until I get back. What you must not do—are you listening?—is make sure that no one is watching. Because if you discover that, you might be tempted to make a run for it and not stop until you are somewhere safe. Then I would get back out here later and wonder whatever happened to my prisoner. Understand?”

  “I think so. You don’t want me to do this?”

  “Of course not. I don’t know what I’d do about an escapee. Do you?”

  The boy managed a weak smile.

  “You know what?” Buck said. “I don’t think anybody’s watching now.” Feeling like Anis, the mysterious border guard who had discovered Tsion under the seat of the bus so long ago, Buck put one hand on the boy’s shoulder and another on his head. And he said, “And now may the Lord bless you. May the Lord make his face to shine upon you and give you peace. Godspeed, son.”

  Buck trotted back to the gate, and when he glanced over his shoulder, the boy was gone.

  The gate guards let Buck through and the ones at the building asked, “Who was that?”

  “Ganter, Paulo,” he said. “Transferred custody to the United North American States.” They were flipping through their printouts as he hurried back in.

  Alex Athenas was finishing. “Are there any here who will be choosing to reject the loyalty mark?”

  The group laughed and waved derisively at him.

  “None then? No one? Anyone?”

  The prisoners looked at each other and quieted. Buck waited and watched to see if the boy had been wrong and there were any other believers who might take a stand.

  “What if we say no?” a tough called out, smirking.

  “You know the consequences,” Alex said. The boy drew a finger across his neck. “That’s right,” Alex added. “Any questions?”

  “No rebels here!” someone shouted. “All loyal, upstanding citizens!”

  “That’s what we like to hear. No questions?”

  “Do we get to choose what image we want?”

  “No. Because of your circumstances, you are allowed only the basic chip and number tattoo.”

  The prisoners groused loudly, and Athenas signaled to his team and the other armed guards to get into position. “This will be done in an orderly fashion,” he said. “Or you will wish you had opted to reject the mark.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Rayford stopped to check in on Zeke, whom he found busy on Chaim’s robe. Zeke said, “Got enough material. Thinking about makin’ him two.”

  “You heard what Tsion said about clothes in the safe haven?”

  Zeke nodded. “He might want variety
though. And I didn’t hear Tsion say whether the clothes get dirty.”

  Rayford shrugged. “I admired your dad, Zeke. You know that?”

  Zeke nodded, still working.

  “He was courageous, right to the end.”

  “Didn’t surprise me,” Zeke said. “I told you he’d do that, didn’t I?”

  “You had him pegged. I pray we’ll all show that kind of courage.”

  Zeke looked up and shook his head, his eyes distant. “I wish he hadn’t got caught. Bad timing. He coulda done a lot more for the believers. Like I’m gonna do.”

  “I admire you too, Zeke. We all do.”

  Zeke nodded again.

  “Don’t forget to mourn and grieve too, you know. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “I can’t help it. I miss him already.”

  “I’m just saying, don’t pretend—you don’t have to look strong to us. We’ve all suffered terrible losses, and even if the Lord helps us through it, we don’t have to like it. The Bible doesn’t say we’re not to mourn. It just says we’re not to mourn the way people do who have no hope. Mourn with all your might, Zeke, because we do have hope. We know we’re going to see our loved ones again.”

  Zeke suddenly stood and thrust out his hand. Rayford shook it. “I don’t s’pose I dare go try to get his body.”

  Rayford shook his head. “The first thing they’re going to want is to know your connection. And you know the second thing.”

  “Whether I want the mark.”

  “We’re crippled with the loss of your dad, Zeke. I don’t know what we’d do if we lost you too.”

  “I just hate to think what they’re gonna do with him. I try not to think about . . . you know . . . his head being . . . you know . . .”

  “I know. But no matter what they do with your dad’s body, God knows. He has his eye on your father. His soul is in heaven now, and his body will eventually be there too, new and improved. If God can resurrect a cremated body—you know what that means?”

  “Burned up, yeah.”

  “Then he can resurrect anybody. Remember, he created us from the dust of the earth.”

  “Thanks, Captain Steele. Bad as this is, there’s no other place I’d rather have been when I heard about it. I sure love all you guys.”

  “And we love you, Zeke.”

  Rayford walked out and shut the door, noticing Tsion just out of sight of the doorway, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

  “Excuse me,” Dr. Ben-Judah said. “I didn’t intend to listen in. I didn’t know you were there. You must have had the same idea I did.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “I’m glad I heard that, Rayford. God has restored you to leadership. You did just what I know the Lord would have wanted you to do, and you did it well.”

  “Thanks, Tsion. God’s been more patient with me than I deserve.”

  “Isn’t that true with all of us?”

  They walked back toward the commons. “I spoke with Chloe a few moments ago,” Tsion said. “I hope I wasn’t out of line.”

  “You can’t be out of line, Doc. You know that. What was it about?”

  “I was just checking to see how she was doing with the assignment you gave her. I have a vested interest, you know.”

  “In the call for planes and pilots? I should say you do! So, save me a conversation. How’s it going?”

  “She was amused and eager to tell me, actually. She put out the request for brave Commodity Co-op members willing to lend their planes and cars and fuel and time to the cause of Messiah in Jerusalem—and she told them it would be soon. She reports that the response has been overwhelming. The element of danger must make these men and women rally. She says they are more willing to throw caution to the wind for this scheme than they are to make the routine flights that keep the co-op running.”

  Around the corner Kenny Bruce came chugging, chased by Leah. He appeared lost in the fantasy that he had to elude her, though he loved her hugs and tickles. “Grandpa!” he squealed, reaching for Rayford. But at the last instant he changed course, leaping into the rabbi’s arms. “Unca Zone!”

  Leah laughed and grabbed for him. “That old man can’t save you!” she said, and he buried his head in Tsion’s chest.

  “Old man?” Tsion said. “Miss Leah, you have wounded me!”

  Tsion carried Kenny back to his mother, and Leah lingered. “Rayford, I feel useful here, helping Chloe—who’s incredible, by the way. That girl could run any size corporation. And I love helping with that precious child.”

  “But—?”

  “You know what’s coming.”

  He nodded. “I’m still finalizing assignments,” he said. “But yours includes getting out of here awhile.”

  “Oh, thank you, Ray. I don’t want to be selfish, and I know Chloe is as antsy as I am.”

  “She has responsibilities here. More than you do.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair to her.”

  “But she takes her role seriously, and I think she’s resigned to it.”

  “Well,” Leah said, “I can’t speak for her, but I would feel trapped.”

  “Trapped by motherhood?”

  Leah smiled. “Spoken like a man. As someone who has been there, let me tell you, at times you need a break. It doesn’t have to be long, and you can’t wait to get back. But, well—it’s not my business. But if you find a place for her outside, even a short assignment, I’ll be happy to spell her.”

  “You can do what she does? Both the co-op and looking after the baby?”

  “Sure. It’s only the men around here who are incapable of that.” Rayford shot her a double take. “I’m kidding, Ray. But tell me, am I going to get to go to Israel?”

  “You want to be there?”

  “I was stuck in Belgium last time. All the good stuff happens in Jerusalem.”

  “The dangerous stuff.”

  “And your point?”

  He cocked his head. “Oh, yeah. You live for that stuff.”

  “I live to serve, Ray. I’m not bragging. It’s what I do. It was, even before I became a believer. I want to be valuable to the cause. I’m not even suspicious. No one’s out trying to hunt me down. And with that wacky dental appliance in and if I let Zeke touch up the hair, I’m invisible.”

  “It would take more than that to make you Middle Eastern.”

  “Maybe this David character can make me GC then. Give me a reason to be over there.”

  Rayford raised his eyebrows. “Maybe,” he said. “You never know.”

  Buck and Albie stood with the culling squad in the female teens’ area. Buck found it hard to believe the conditions were the same as for the men. There were two women guards, but the rest were men. The girls were not as noisy and raucous as the boys, but the makeup of the group was similar. There were tough girls and apparent victims, but all were curious.

  Buck scoured the group, and a tall brunette stared back at him. He was convinced they had seen each other’s mark at the same time. Her eyes grew wide, and he tried to communicate with his that she must not give him away. As Alex Athenas ran through his explanation, Buck casually moved close to Albie.

  “I’d better not push my luck. Think you can get one out of here?”

  “Maybe,” Albie said. “You’re not thinking of trying this in every building, are you?”

  “I hate doing nothing.”

  “Me too, but we’re going to get ourselves killed. And what about when there’s a bunch of ’em?”

  “I can worry about them only one at a time.”

  Albie sighed. “Where is she?” Buck pointed her out. “Watch and learn, buddy boy,” Albie said.

  Albie rushed the cage, shouting. Alex fell silent and watched with everyone else as Albie prowled up and back before the wire mesh, eyes on his prey. “You! You from the North American States?”

  The girl froze, her eyes darting at Buck, who nodded slightly, and back at Albie. “No,” she said, her voice a constricted squeak. “I�
��m—”

  “Don’t lie to me, dirt ball! I’d know you anywhere.” Albie whirled in a rage that almost convinced Buck. “Alex, get somebody to open this cage.” He turned back, pointing at the girl. “Step to the door! Now! Hands behind your head.”

  She advanced, stiff legged and shuddering, as the gate was unlocked.

  Albie grabbed her and wrenched her out. “Cuffs,” he announced, and a guard tossed him a pair. “Key too,” he said. “I’ll bring ’em back.” He pushed her up against the cage and drew her hands down to hook her up. He slipped the key in his pocket and guided her out.

  “Have fun,” a guard whispered as they passed.

  Albie turned on him, grabbed his jacket, and shoved him against the wall. “Say again, soldier?”

  “Sorry, sir. That was uncalled for.”

  Albie gave him another shove and turned back to the girl, hustling her out. He returned a few minutes later and returned cuffs and key to the lender.

  Buck was shocked when a girl with a pronounced Greek accent responded in the affirmative to Officer Athenas’s main question. The other girls whirled to see who it was, and Buck leaned in to see if he could detect a mark on her forehead. There was none.

  “You’re refusing the loyalty mark of the Global Community?” Alex said.

  “I’d certainly like to think about it,” she said. “It seems a drastic move, not something to enter into lightly.”

  “You understand the consequences?”

  “I’d just like to think it over.”

  “Fair enough. Anyone else?” No one. “Young lady, because you are the only one in this facility, rather than being sent straight to the confirmation facilitator, you may mull this over while in line. Your male counterparts are almost finished with the procedure, and where you wind up in line will determine how much time you have to decide. When you get to the place in the queue where you are asked where you would like the mark affixed, that will be your final chance to elect not to have it at all.”

  “And then?”

  “You will be directed to the confirmation facili—”

  “You know what that is, girl?” a teen called out.

  “You’re dead!”

  “Guillotine! Head chopped off.”