The Countdown Begins

by Patrick Higgins

  Sarah shook her head. “Your father took great pleasure belittling me in front of your sister. I think Chelsea enjoyed it, too. The way she looked at me; it’s like she’s mentally distancing herself from me like she already did with you.”

  “Can’t say I blame her, given that she’s spiritually blinded to the Truth.”

  “Part of me wishes I was too.”

  “Don’t say that, Ma. You know you don’t mean it. Satan’s doing all he can to destroy families. It’s happening to millions of other families as well. Never forget what awaits us on the other side. Revelation twenty-one, four says God will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. Comfort yourself with these words, Ma. Cling to them. Take them literally.”

  “I know, honey, but it’s just so hard.” Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes, “All we do is argue day and night. Your father’s temper frightens me to no end. I’m supposed to be his wife, the one he promised to protect in good times and bad. It’s like we don’t know each other anymore.”

  “How soon would you like to leave New York?”

  “Today, if possible.”

  Brian gulped hard, then looked at Jacquelyn. “Not possible, Ma. Are you safe there?” This was a question he would have never asked his mother before the Rapture. It would have never crossed his mind! “If not, I’ll find a place for you to stay until a decision’s been made on your behalf.”

  “If you’re asking if I think your father will hurt me physically, I don’t believe so.”

  “Okay, good.”

  There was more sniffling. “How long must I wait?”

  “At least a few weeks. The good news is you’ve already been cleared because of the dreams you’ve had. The only red flag is Dad.”

  “In what way?”

  “Do you really need to ask? You know if you leave him, he’ll search the ends of the Earth looking for you. What if you have a change of heart and end up going back to Dad, and he demands to know our location?”

  Sarah took a moment to blow her nose with a tissue. “That’s not what I saw in my dream. We were clearly separated. The thought of no longer being with your father is enough to stop my heart from beating in my chest. But that’s what I kept seeing in my dream. There was no reconciliation...” She started weeping again.

  Brian wiped tears from his own eyes. This was so hard. Now that his mother was a believer, he knew it would happen at some point. He wanted to reach through the phone and hug her. He knew this wasn’t his fault, but it sure felt like it was.

  “Are you sure you wanna do this?” When Sarah sighed, Brian pressed on. “I know everything inside you wants to preserve the family, but it may be impossible at this point.”

  “I don’t want to leave your father, Brian, but I know I have to...”

  Brian grimaced. “I’ll make some phone calls and get back to you. For now, I need you to hang in there for me, okay Ma?”

  “I’m trying my best...”

  “Once you come here, you’ll have a good support system. For now, you must find the inner strength to carry on.”

  “It’s just so hard.”

  “It’s not easy for me either, Ma. I’m going through it too. We all are. Renate’s suicide has really forced me to think about the afterlife. I can’t tell you how much it torments me knowing she’s suffering now without hope. From a spiritual standpoint, though she was quite shallow in life, that can no longer be said of her.”

  “What do you mean, Brian?”

  “Renate now knows more about the afterlife than even the most knowledgeable Bible scholars on the planet. She also knows she’s forever doomed. You know how much I loved her, Ma. Even though I still mourn for her, whenever I rise above my emotions enough to big picture it, I always come to the same conclusion.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “That I’d rather be in Heaven without Renate than in hell with her. Now that you’re a Christian, you need to understand that as much as you love Dad, you’d much rather be in Heaven without him than in hell with him, if that becomes Dad’s final destination.”

  Sarah started crying again.

  Brian sighed. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. When I think of Dad or Chelsea possibly ending up in hell, I have trouble catching my breath. But in the final analysis, we’re all responsible for the choices we make. I’ve finally come to grips with the fact that Renate’s death wasn’t my fault. Jacquelyn’s either.

  “My decision to leave her may have triggered it, but the choice to go through with it was entirely hers to make. The same is true with you and Dad. His decisions have triggered yours, not the other way around. You’re not doing this to hurt him. Again, it’s spiritual warfare at the highest levels.”

  There was a moment of silence. Sarah’s sniffles grew more faint.

  Brian went on, “All decisions from here on out will be difficult. You must cling to the promise that you’re on the Good side of eternity. Nothing can be more glorious than waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

  “Amen,” Sarah said, halfheartedly. “Just wish I knew where the two of you were living.”

  “I believe you’ll know soon enough, Ma...” Brian replied. “Until then, keep fighting the Good Fight. Pray for me as I pray for you. God is with us. I love you.”

  “Love you too, son.” The call ended. “Be strong!” Sarah told herself. It didn’t work. She burst out in tears again...

  A few moments after Brian sent a text message to Travis Hartings explaining everything, he replied: I’ve advised Braxton of the situation. Lots going on here with the properties. Might not be able to rescue her until we return to Pennsylvania in a few weeks. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.

  Brian understood. Just hope my mother does! Brian wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about his mother knowing his whereabouts. She could be trusted with such information. But if his father knew, Brian believed he would do whatever it took to destroy what they were building in Chadds Ford, claiming to be helping his son, not hurting him.

  And that went double for Jacquelyn’s parents.

  Tom Dunleavey glanced down from the rooftop and saw Brian looking ever so distraught. He took his time climbing down the ladder to check on his brother in Christ.

  Jacquelyn and Tamika were cleaning inside the cottage. They heard Brian talking on the phone earlier. Whoever was on the other end really rocked Brian’s world.

  The two women stopped what they were doing and joined Brian and Tom outside.

  “Who was that, honey?” Jacquelyn kissed her husband’s right cheek.

  “My mother...”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Not exactly.” Brian took a moment to fill them in on what had transpired earlier between his parents.

  Even dirty and sweaty, the four ETSM members joined hands and prayed for Dick and Sarah Mulrooney...

  40

  FIRST WEEK OF AUGUST

  JACQUELYN MULROONEY WOKE AT 4:15 a.m., and climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her husband.

  But the alarm on her cell phone woke him too. “Coffee, dear?”

  “Please.” Jacquelyn kissed her husband on the lips. “I’ll join you downstairs after I shower.”

  This was a big day for safe house number one. Not only would the number of residents increase by a factor of three, Donald Johnson and Manuel Jiminez would also temporarily reside in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, bringing the number of residents to eighteen.

  While the coffee brewed, Brian walked out onto the front porch. The fresh morning air felt good on his face.

  Except for the dim lights inside the house and a few faint lights in the distance, it was pitch dark. He looked forward to seeing the cottages they’d worked so hard cleaning the last three weeks being occupied by others.

  As instructed, the 30 they’d cleaned were spread about the sprawling prop
erty, giving them eyes and ears in the front of the property and back.

  A year ago, none of this would have seemed fathomable. Had it not been for the Rapture, Brian Mulrooney wouldn’t be in the Keystone State now. None of them would, in fact.

  This time last year, Mulrooney was proud to call Ann Arbor, Michigan his home. Things were really looking up for him. He had a stable job he loved and a girlfriend he planned on marrying someday.

  Now Renate was dead, and he was married to another woman living in a safe house in another state, with a warrant out for his arrest. Go figure.

  Nevertheless, despite all that, Brian was comforted knowing he was exactly where God wanted him to be. Being a child of the Most High God supernaturally placed him in the safest place in all the universe, even if it didn’t always feel that way.

  And this meant the Antichrist and his global forces could easily kill his body, but no one could touch his soul. Only God could.

  For that, Brian Mulrooney was grateful, and totally committed to doing whatever it took to win as many souls to Christ as God would allow.

  Brian received a secure text message from Travis Hartings: Robotic bricklaying and tunnel boring machine will arrive before noon, along with various other construction vehicles. Time for the real work to begin. Expect long days and nights. Sleep will be more of a luxury than a requirement.

  Brian was replying to Travis when he was alerted on his phone that the last plane had just touched down. Time to get a move on! He refilled his coffee cup and walked the short distance to the garage. He placed two car magnets on the blue fifteen-passenger van advertising Delaware Valley Budget Shuttle Service.

  Brian wanted to accompany his wife to Philadelphia International Airport, if only to help her load the luggage into the van, but it was too big of a risk. And with Tom Dunleavey soon-to-be leaving for Baltimore, to pick up the ETSM brass at BWI Airport, he didn’t want Tamika to be left alone on the property.

  Upon landing, all were instructed to collect their luggage and proceed to the arrivals section at Gate C. Once there, they were encouraged to engage in mild conversation, as strangers routinely did while waiting for ground transportation to shuttle them to area hotels and rental car agencies.

  In this case, it was Delaware Valley Budget Shuttle Service.

  With the magnets carefully placed on both sides of the vehicle, Jacquelyn climbed inside the van and started the engine.

  Brian kissed his wife on the lips, “Be careful, my love...”

  “I will. Gotta go. Keep praying...” Jacquelyn drove off to get the first batch of residents. The second group would arrive at Philly International between the hours of nine and ten a.m.

  As the world waited expectantly with bated breath for the first child to be born, not surprisingly, most radio and TV talk shows talked exclusively about children populating Planet Earth again. It would be any day now.

  With so many pregnant teenagers out there, experts spoke on a myriad of topics for the young expectant mothers to glean, from how to properly breastfeed a child, to putting mittens on a child’s hands to not shaking infants or letting them get too close to pets and other animals. On and on they went.

  Prior to the Rapture, most viewers and listeners would have rolled their eyes and tuned them out. But after nine months without children, and with millions of pregnant women out there, it was like food for the starved soul. Most listened with great interest.

  Jacquelyn arrived at Philadelphia International Airport and spotted the first passenger load of folks she was there to get.

  It wasn’t difficult since everyone was exactly where they were told to go, wearing exactly what they were instructed to wear—even down to the two construction workers wearing retro Philadelphia Eagles knit caps.

  Jacquelyn pulled over and helped load their luggage into the back of the van. She even received tips from passengers as instructed. It needed to look authentic.

  Once everyone was buckled in and introductions were made, Jacquelyn looked in her rear-view mirror, “Welcome to Pennsylvania!”

  “Happy to be here,” said Tony Pearsall, a construction worker from Nevada.

  Eyeballing Dr. Meera Singh, Jacquelyn said, “Thanks for examining Tamika. We were so worried about her.”

  “And for good reason. I never told Tamika but, the red line from the infection was slowly working its way up her leg to her heart. It could have led to systemic infection all throughout her body.”

  Jacquelyn’s eyes widened. “Thank God you were able to get it in time, Doctor.”

  Dr. Singh smiled and nodded professionally. “Please call me, Meera.”

  Jacquelyn smiled back. Then, “Hope you’re all well rested. The big equipment will arrive sometime before noon. Needless to say, we’ll be busy from sunup to sundown. I can assure you none of us will ever battle boredom where we’re going.”

  “Just anxious to get started,” Tony Pearsall said.

  “One more thing, the cottages you’ll occupy will be spread all throughout the property. This way, we’ll have eyes and ears everywhere in case danger ever pays us a visit.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Tony said again, as if assuming the role of foreman for the group.

  Jacquelyn left at once for safe house number one. Upon reaching I-95 southbound, she sent a voice text message to her husband, informing that they’d be there in roughly thirty minutes.

  Brian and Tamika already were waiting at the front gate when they arrived to welcome them home.

  A few moments later, Tom Dunleavey returned from Baltimore with Clayton Holmes, Travis Hartings, Charles Calloway, Dr. Lee Kim, Donald Johnson and Manuel Jiminez.

  Jacquelyn ate a quick breakfast and left to collect the second passenger load of new residents. She returned to safe house number one just as the heavy equipment had arrived.

  Also, an ETSM crew arrived from Atlanta with more supplies, including another 22-foot truck full of bottled water, compliments of President Danforth.

  “They’re here!” Travis Hartings said to everyone gathered in the church pavilion.

  Clayton Holmes rose from his seat, “Let’s go, y’all!”

  Everyone rushed to the front of the property to find all trucks idling quietly in the outside parking lot. Holmes and Hartings ordered everyone to stay put as they went out to meet the drivers.

  For now, only they knew the two men driving the trucks carrying the robotic bricklaying machine and tunnel boring machine were secret service agents posing as truck drivers.

  “Open both gates,” Holmes yelled.

  Brian Mulrooney did as he was instructed. It took a while, but the trucks made it through the entryway without incident.

  After introductions were made, Clayton Holmes said, “Time to get busy, y’all! After you fill your bellies, we’ll need all hands on deck!”

  The only one excluded from this command was Braxton Rice.

  When Jacquelyn returned from the airport with the second batch of new residents, Rice removed the airport shuttle magnets from the van, replaced them with two different magnetic stickers, and left for New York City...

  41

  AT 2:30 P.M. BRAXTON Rice arrived at the Mulrooney residence in Manhattan. With far less vehicles on the road, he made the 120-mile trip in excellent time, an hour and a half to be exact.

  The last thing Rice was concerned about was getting a speeding ticket. In a world completely full of turmoil, and with roadways far less crowded with vehicles, authorities had all but stopped handing out speeding citations. Their efforts were needed elsewhere.

  Prior to last November, Rice hated driving anywhere near the Big Apple. Traffic was always gridlocked. A trip like this could easily take four hours or more. It was a breeze this time.

  Rice climbed out of his vehicle and knocked on the front door. Brian assured him that his mother would be the only one to open the door. His father was at work and Chelsea was probably locked in her room chatting with friends online or sleeping.

  Brian also
warned Braxton to expect nosy neighbors keeping a steady eye on him. According to his mother, whenever someone came or went, neighbors were always watching. Brian also told him to be on the lookout for unmarked police cars. Last thing they needed was for someone to follow them back to Chadds Ford.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Rice spotted someone peeking through a slit in the window curtain two doors down from the Mulrooneys. His eyes volleyed back when Sarah Mulrooney opened the door.

  “Yes?” Sarah’s eyes were joyless and filled with great pain.

  “Hi, Mrs. Mulrooney! My name’s William Fuller,” Braxton Rice said, using the name he used when meeting potential ETSM members for the first time. He made sure to say it loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He was sure some were listening. “I’m here to drop off boxes. How many will you be needing?”

  “Not sure. Five, perhaps?”

  “Yes ma’am. Be right back with them.”

  The head of security for the End Times Salvation Movement opened the rear door of the blue passenger van double-parked in front of the Mulrooney residence and retrieved the boxes. Both sides of the van donned magnetic stickers advertising:

  SPREAD THE LOVE:

  FEEDING AND CLOTHING

  THE BIG APPLE SINCE 1973

  HELP THOSE WHO NEED IT MOST!

  PLEASE DONATE TODAY!

  “Would you like me to carry them inside for you?”

  “Okay,” Sarah said softly, somberly.

  They went inside. Mindful that Chelsea was also at home, Rice spoke in a whisper, “Instructions have been taped onto one of the boxes including where we’ll meet after I collect your things.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said, with absolutely no emotion. She found it impossible to maintain steady eye contact with the man. “What should I pack?”