Brian cleared his throat. “Sorry, Ma, but only those who are part of the Movement can know my exact whereabouts.”
“Why not just move to Mars then!”
“I’m not purposely trying to upset you, Mom. You know how hard this is for me. But I’m under strict orders.”
“Orders from whom?”
“Those at the top of the organization.”
Sarah felt panicked, “Will I, we, ever see you again?”
“Hard to say. The later it gets in the game, the more persecuted Christ followers will become. The millions killed so far is only a drop in the bucket. With so much technology out there, soon it’ll be impossible for me to be seen anywhere in public.
“Once the chip becomes mandatory, and scanners are set up worldwide, no one will be able to buy or sell anything without first accepting the Mark of the Beast.”
Sarah didn’t reply to her son’s outlandish comment. How could she when she knew he was right?
“Once I reject Salvador Romanero’s Mark, which I most certainly will, I’ll be considered a fugitive from justice by local and universal law enforcement agencies. If I live that long...”
Brian looked at his mother carefully. “Believe me, I’m not looking forward to being a hunted fugitive, especially if captured by those who hate me. Nor do I look forward to being separated from loved ones. But I gotta do what I gotta do.”
“When will this chip become mandatory?”
“Can’t say for sure, but if I had to guess I’d say three years or so.” Seeing fresh tears pouring out of his mother’s eyes, Brian frowned and looked away. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but if you know where I am, the enemy’ll use any method to force you to reveal my whereabouts, including torture. I’m talking unspeakable torture, Ma.”
“And just how do you expect me to tell your father all this?”
“I’m hoping you won’t tell him for now.”
“What’s to tell. You haven’t told me anything,” Sarah said, her voice elevating.
Brian scanned the restaurant once more to make sure no one was watching. “To tell you the truth, I’ve already said too much.”
“Too much? Ha! I don’t even know where you’re staying in my city.” Sarah looked out the window. Air got caught in her chest. She had difficulty breathing, wondering what would come out of her son’s mouth next?
Sensing her dilemma, Brian moved to her side of the booth and wrapped his right arm around his mother. “I’ve had this pit in my stomach for many days trying to think of the best way to tell you all this. But as much as it hurts, nothing’ll change my mind. If you think the gap between me and Dad is huge now, if he doesn’t repent, it will only get worse.
“The animosity’s coming from him, not me. He has this religious, self-righteous spirit inside that isn’t from above. It’s not a spirit of love and, therefore, not the Spirit of God. If his heart isn’t changed soon, he and I will grow even further apart. The consequences are eternal. I fear for him.”
Sarah couldn’t argue the point. She couldn’t argue any of Brian’s points, in fact. He made too much sense. And he was right: the hatred wasn’t coming from Christians, it was being directed at them! One did not have to be a rocket-scientist to see it.
The waiter approached: “How was everything?”
“Fine, thanks,” Brian said.
“More coffee?”
“No thanks,” he said again.
Sarah looked up with sad eyes and put a hand up in polite refusal.
“Be right back with your check.”
The waiter cleared the breakfast plates from the table. Sarah’s meal was only half-eaten. How could she eat when this might be the last time ever seeing her son in person?
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Are you driving?”
Brian shook his head, “Flying. Out of LaGuardia.”
“Would you like me to see you off?”
“Of course, I would, Ma. But under the circumstances, it’s probably not a good idea. Dad may find out.”
Sarah looked greatly disappointed. And dejected. “As you wish, son...”
Brian searched his mother’s eyes. Distant eyes stared back. He just did the one thing he thought he’d never do in a million years—break his mother’s heart. But his heart was also broken.
Brian searched his mother’s eyes. Distant eyes stared back. Sarah looked greatly disappointed. And dejected. He just did the one thing he thought he’d never do in a million years—break his mother’s heart. But his heart was also broken.
The waiter dropped the check and they stood to leave.
Brian paid the bill, then braced for an agonizing departure.
Sarah tried not to make a scene but failed miserably. Many heard her sobs and stared at them.
They walked outside and shared another tearful embrace before Sarah turned and walked away. It was a wonder she didn’t bump into someone or something with her vision blurred from so many tears. Her pace was clumsy and slow.
Her head was down, like a little girl who’d just lost her best friend. Her whole world kept falling apart a little more each day. She needed Jesus more than ever.
It took every ounce of strength Brian possessed not to chase after his mother and wrap his arms around her once more. The pain was excruciating.
Overcome with grief, Brian Mulrooney fell to his knees on the Manhattan sidewalk, “I hate you, Satan!” He knew it was foolish and potentially dangerous being so vulnerable in this uncertain climate, but that didn’t stop him from raising his hands skyward and crying, “Father in Heaven, give me the strength to endure all this. My mother, too. I’m begging You.”
“This ain’t no church, you psycho!” said a passerby.
“Get outta here, you bum!” said a police officer out walking the beat.
And to think this was happening to millions of families all over the world...
22
BRIAN MULROONEY PICKED HIMSELF up off the pavement ever so gingerly and brushed dirt off his jeans.
He could almost hear the people still inside the restaurant sneering at him for bringing his mother to tears the way he had.
Mulrooney was too afraid to look back, for fear that they might poke their judgmental fingers at the pane glass window as if jabbing him in the chest. He took a couple deep breaths and rushed off to check on something he’d found online before breakfast. After what had just transpired with his mother, he prayed his next encounter would have a more positive outcome.
When he arrived, it was easy to spot the boarding house he was looking for. A sign was posted on the window. It read:
VACANCY
WEEKLY RENTALS
NO CREDIT CHECK
NO CRIMINALS!
Mulrooney went inside to find a heavyset woman on the other side of the bullet proof glass, at the check-in desk, arguing with someone on the phone.
She held a land line phone in one hand, and a lit cigarette in the other. Without the slightest discretion she barked into the phone, “I want the rent money today or the next one banging on your door will be the police!”
The way she presented herself, it was as if she was absent the day the world was forever changed last November. Her gravelly voice from chain-smoking for so many years was so loud that it practically shook the glass.
After one last tirade with the poor soul on the other end, she slammed down the phone, took a long drag from the cigarette and blew it straight at Brian. “Yes?”
Thankfully the bullet proof glass dividing them prevented the thick cloud of smoke from reaching him. It was the last thing his asthmatic lungs needed. “How much are your weekly rentals?”
“How many people?”
“Just me.”
“Two-fifty per week, plus tax,” the woman said, glancing at the security monitors on the wall to her left.
Brian couldn’t feign his surprise. Shock was more like it. Prior to the disappearances, even fleabag plac
es like this would have cost at least twice that much.
“I don’t need it until tomorrow,” he said. “But I’d still like to see it first if you don’t mind.”
“Valid ID?”
Mulrooney pulled his wallet from his back pocket and slid his Michigan driver’s license through the well beneath the bullet proof glass.
The heavyset woman lit another cigarette and briefly glanced at his license, before sliding him a room key. “Down the hall on your left.” She was clearly unconcerned that this was a smoke-free lobby.
Brian pulled his surgical mask over his face and left to inspect the room. It was equipped with a queen-size bed, an old worn-out couch, a wooden coffee table from a generation long gone, a phone that would never be used, a TV, an old coffee maker that Mulrooney hoped still worked, an even older microwave, and a small refrigerator.
Convinced Tamika would be comfortable at this place for the next two weeks or so, Brian closed the door and went back to the lobby. He slid the key through the well beneath the glass. “Looks fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“If you like it so much, why don’t you pay for it now?”
Brian looked at her skeptically. “Tomorrow!”
“Okay, jeez!” She returned his driver’s license.
Mulrooney left the boarding house and walked the perimeter of the building looking for all possible exit strategies, in case someone learned of Tamika’s whereabouts and she needed to make a quick escape.
It became apparent that her only option would be the back-door exit, which emptied onto a small side street. She’d have to do all her coming and going from there. Hopefully she wouldn’t leave at all. She couldn’t be seen by anyone.
The biggest red flag Brian saw was the woman at the front desk. Clearly, she ran a very tight ship at her establishment. She watched the monitors in her office like a hawk. If she came knocking on Tamika’s door for any reason, it could pose a serious problem.
Before going back to his hotel, Mulrooney went to a store across the street and roamed the aisles to make sure they had the necessary items Tamika would need for two weeks, including cat food. Satisfied that they did, he would come back in the morning to purchase everything after paying for the room.
After that, Brian went to a local bookstore and purchased a few crossword puzzles and a Bible for Tamika. He was mildly shocked to see Bibles still for sale. From there he went to an electronics store and purchased a new cell phone.
Brian arrived back at the hotel two hours later. Tamika was still sleeping. He placed the Bible and crossword puzzles in his suitcase, then sat quietly on the couch careful not to make too much noise. He opened his Bible to the Book of Ezekiel and started reading.
Tamika woke up soon after. She saw Brian and nearly jumped out of her skin. “Ooh, you scared me!”
Brian closed the Bible and placed it on the table. “Good afternoon.”
“Afternoon? Are you kidding?”
“It’s one-thirty, but who’s counting?”
“Wow!” Tamika sat up and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “I really needed that.”
“Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
“I’m good, thanks. Best sleep I had in weeks.”
“Hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“How does pastrami and Swiss on rye sound?”
Tamika yawned, “Sounds good, actually.”
“There are two sandwiches in the fridge. I’ll eat mine later. Still full from breakfast.”
“How was your meeting?”
Brian frowned. “One of the most difficult of my life. I’m still reeling from it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I broke my mother’s heart...”
“Oh, my! Sorry to hear that. You really did have a bad morning.” Tamika got out of bed and sat on the chair next to Brian’s. She ran her fingers through her hair, “What a strange dream I had...”
“Oh yeah? What kind of dream?”
“Perhaps it’s because of what you said about Christians living in hiding, but that’s exactly what I saw in my dream. You were there. Jacquelyn too. And a few others I didn’t know. It was completely-surrounded by trees and nature. Nothing like the city. It was beautiful. I felt safe there.”
Brian’s eyes widened.
“Anything else?”
“No. That’s pretty much it.”
“Interesting dream you had.” Mulrooney changed the subject so he wouldn’t say something he wasn’t supposed to. “By the way, I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
Brian handed her a new cell phone. “It’s linked to my account so you should be fine using it. Even so, only use it in an emergency.”
Tamika blinked a few times, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because you’re my sister in Christ.”
It was enough to bring Tamika to tears. With so many in the city pitted against her, Brian’s act of genuine kindness gave her the shot in the arm she desperately needed.
She couldn’t remember feeling any more comforted in friendship than she did with Brian. Though this was only their second face to face meeting, he had an uncanny way of softening the tough exterior she’d developed over the years as a New York City cab driver.
Wiping her eyes, she said, “Thank you, Brian.”
“You’re welcome.”
After Tamika finished eating her pastrami and Swiss cheese sandwich, they spent the rest of the day reading the Word of God together.
She went to sleep that night even more determined to leave New York City. With her face constantly splashed all over the local media for a crime she never committed, if there was any chance she could somehow escape to Pennsylvania with Brian, she’d jump all over it.
She would travel to Siberia if the opportunity ever arose, anything to escape this nightmare!
Tamika couldn’t help but wonder if the dream she’d had the night before was somehow connected to the place in Pennsylvania. All she knew for now was that Brian would manage a safe house for exiled believers. The very thought of joining him and Jacquelyn breathed new life into her.
That is, until her thoughts shifted to the grim reality that she would be homeless again come daybreak. As Brian left the Big Apple to begin life anew with Jacquelyn Swindell, Tamika would once again do all she could to avoid capture by authorities, without a cent to her name. She didn’t even have the money to go back to New Jersey, thus dashing her hopes again.
Tamika sighed in the darkness, then softly whispered, “Please rescue me, Lord, from my crazy situation.”
Lying in the bed next to hers, Brian heard her desperate cry for help. If there was any good news, now that she’d had the dream, the vetting process would begin immediately. And like all others who’d had dreams, Tamika would be fast-tracked.
Brian felt reasonably certain they were compatible enough to co-exist on the same property. The more Tamika spoke, the more convinced he was that her conversion was genuine. Clearly, she wasn’t the same person he’d met last November. Not even close. It had to be the Holy Spirit at work in her.
Knowing how God was using supernatural dreams to call many to salvation, Brian felt with everything in him that Tamika was part of this wondrous end times tapestry.
The fact that she was saved proved that much. And it all started with a bizarre dream about her grandfather...
Did her second dream merely confirm that she would be someday invited to join the ETSM? It sure felt that way...
Even so, until Mulrooney heard from those at the top of the organization, Tamika was still an outsider and, therefore, couldn’t know anything about the Movement he was involved with.
As it was, he’d already told her too much.
“Open this door for her, Father, as only You can...”
At that, Brian Mulrooney drifted off to sleep...
23
THE FOLLOWING DAY
“HELLO,” BRIAN MULROONEY SAID, groggily.
“Good mor
ning, my brother.”
“Hey, Charles! Sorry I didn’t call you back yesterday. Was busy all day. Time slipped away.”
“Figured that much. Busy here too with you know who doing you know what!” Calloway was referring to the seven properties the ETSM was in the process of purchasing near Atlanta, Georgia. They hoped to have them in their possession soon. “How’d it go with your Momma?”
“Not so good. It was one of the most difficult moments of my life.”
“Figured that much. Are you okay?”
“I will be. Thanks for the concern.”
“What about Tamika?”
“Where shall I begin?”
“Is it good or bad?”
“Both, actually. Very good and very bad.”
“Are you suggesting that...”
“No!” Brian knew what Charles was getting at. “I’m beyond convinced she’s a true Christ follower. Once you hear her story, you’ll be convinced too.” He glanced over at Tamika. The ringing cell phone woke her.
“Well then, Hallelujah!”
“But you’ll never guess in a million years how she came to faith in Christ.”
Calloway sat up in his chair, “Indulge me.”
Brian glanced at Tamika and cupped the phone. “Want me to tell him?”
Tamika nodded affirmatively.
Brian told Charles everything. While listening, Calloway Googled the Graveyard Incident in New York City and read all about it. “So that’s why we haven’t heard from her all this time.”
“She’s been running scared, bro. Ditched her cell phone weeks ago, so the police couldn’t track her down with it.”
“Is she the one responsible for all this?”
“According to her, the only thing she’s guilty of is digging up her grandfather’s grave to see if his remains were still there or not. Nothing more.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I do.”
The Countdown Begins Page 16
