“Yes.” She did, but… it was easier to believe in miracles for other people. Not so easy when facing a wall of fire herself.
“We won’t be the first to survive a fiery furnace.”
Katie sucked in smoky air and coughed a little. He was right. But Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego hadn’t decided to drive into a fiery furnace. They were thrown in! No choice in the matter.
Besides, why would God save her and her family, when so many others were dying tonight?
What made them special?
Surely many Californian saints, as well as sinners, would be meeting their maker in the next hour or day. Why should Katie’s family be spared?
What if they grabbed onto their faith and drove into that mountain of fire, and died?
She shuddered. Burned to death.
“You still there, babe?”
“Yeah.” It was barely more than a whisper. “Yes,” she said louder.
“Let’s pray.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Lord God,” her husband began, “Please be with us now, just as you were with Daniel’s friends when the king of Babylon had them thrown into the fiery furnace. Please ride with us on our journey through this fire. Please protect us from all harm and see us through safely to the other side. In Jesus’ name we ask for your help!”
“Amen,” Katie agreed.
As best she could gauge, the highway met the fire about a mile ahead. She glanced again at Jennifer, who stared at the flaming mountainside. Her jaw hung open, and her eyes were huge. Would she be okay?
Would they all survive this night together?
***
Alana slouched in her chair. On the one hand, she’d rather be anywhere but here right now. On the other hand, being in the PEOC was the best place in the world. Not only did she have instant information about everything that was happening, she was also safe. A presidential bunker was about as good as it could get.
The president hung up the phone after reaching a stalemate with Mexico’s president. Alana watched Basilia intently. Now what?
Basilia turned her laser eyes on the director of Homeland Security. “What’s the status on the NEST personnel?”
“The Nuclear Emergency Support Teams are still attempting to reach the southern California border crossings,” he said.
“They’ve flown in, then, but can’t get to the sites because of traffic?” Basilia asked.
He nodded. “Right. FLYNET always has a higher priority in the national airspace system, but once they landed, they had as much difficulty on the road system as everyone else.”
“How far out are they now? When will they be at the ports of entry?”
“Soon, I believe. Within twenty minutes, I’m told.”
Alana’s shoulders relaxed. If the nuclear teams would be operational in that time frame, there would be no sense picking a fight with Mexico.
Sure, Basilia made it clear she wanted the Mexican army to back off and let California’s traffic surge across the border immediately, but realistically, she wasn’t going to war over a twenty minute delay. Was she?
Alana turned her gaze on the president, who was pacing the far end of the room like a caged tiger. The woman was wound up to the point of explosion.
But calmer minds would prevail, and in half an hour, the Mexican crisis would be over. She shifted her eyes toward the secretary of defense. He was in a hushed phone conversation.
The door swung open, and Alana’s chief of staff came into the room. She’d barely noticed he’d been gone. He hurried toward her, his round face flushed.
“What’s up, Jason?”
Without answering, he picked up the remote and turned on the screen across from her, flipping through the news stations, then turning the volume just loud enough that she could hear it.
“No word from the president or the administration on today’s events, which are spiraling out of control.”
The video feed showed halted traffic at the California/Mexico crossings, then switched to a crashed airliner shooting flames 200 feet into the night sky.
“We are not sure where the president is at this moment, actually. She’s believed to be in a secure location, but again, there has been no official word. We also have no information on the whereabouts of Vice President Alana Mills, who failed to make a planned trip to Vermont today.”
Alana groaned and pushed back her chair. In addition to dealing with all the real emergencies, now they’d have to deal with ones the media cooked up, too!
Chapter 27
After a few moments, the mansion lights flickered again, then came back on.
“Emergency generator,” his father said. “Bring the radio’s charger to me.”
Nadir scrambled for the door, glad to have a reprieve from his father’s furious glare. He ran outside, gagged on the smoke, and rushed to the guard shack. After rummaging through the drawers, he found a cradle charger for the radio, and returned to his father’s office.
He plugged it into a power strip, and his father set the radio in the charger.
“Now.” His father stared at him. “You must tell me everything.”
Nadir wasn’t about to do that. There were other terror cells, and other jihads underway that could be imperiled by loose lips. No, he’d only share what he himself had done. Very successfully.
“I organized a jihad to punish the Great Satan,” he said. “This country’s filth! The vile degradation of all that is good and right!”
“You did it, Nadir?” His father’s eyebrows rose. “All by yourself?”
No, of course not. But he dare not betray his uncle. Or anyone else. He nodded.
“I did it. I planned it, orchestrated it.”
“Many others were involved. You were here all day. Not out lighting fires!”
“Certainly. I recruited a team. They were the ones who actually carried out my plans.”
“How many?”
“A great many!” In spite of his father’s disapproval, Nadir felt pride rise in his heart. “We named our jihad ‘One Thousand Torches.’”
His father’s face darkened. His hand clutched his chest.
“You have betrayed me.” He glared at Nadir. “You betrayed my trust!”
“I have served Allah. You should be honored.”
His father shook his head and gasped for breath. “You fool!”
Nadir studied his father’s flushed face. He seriously looked ill. He rubbed his chest, then he leaned back in his chair and inhaled deeply.
“You have dishonored your family. You have attacked my state! You should have chosen a different target! Why California?” His father coughed. “Is it because I am governor? Did you wish to humiliate me in my old age?”
“Father! No!” Nadir stepped around the desk. “But California is one of the worst offenders. It’s the one that floods the world with American filth. The wicked movies! The naked women! Promiscuity! Homosexuality! Drunkenness! America pours its flood of filth out on the entire world, but it all starts here.”
Surely his father would understand. He had to know Nadir was right. But he just stared at Nadir like the younger man was insane.
“So your goal – your great plan – was to burn the entire state to the ground?” His father looked fully incredulous. He gripped the corners of his desk. “You could have just bombed the movie studios!”
“But it’s so much more than that! Perhaps it began with the movies, but it has saturated the whole culture. Education. Politics. Everything,” Nadir said. “This society is institutionally sick. Demented. It has to be put out of its misery, like a rabid dog.”
His father sucked in another breath, then wheezed. He stared at Nadir.
“You are out of your mind. You’ve taken leave of your senses!” He stood up, and pointed at the door. “Get out of here!”
Nadir took a step back.
“OUT!” His father roared.
***
Katie’s hand flew to her mouth to squelch any panicked w
ords that might escape as she stared down the fire. Traffic had sped up to twenty miles per hour, as more and more drivers turned back. Maybe they were the smart ones.
Time would tell.
If it weren’t for her husband and child in the motorhome ahead of her, she’d probably turn back herself. But they were there, leading the way, and she was going with them, come hell or high water. Or fire.
“I’m going to die!” Jennifer moaned. Turning toward Katie, she ratcheted up the volume. “We’re ALL gonna die!”
“No.” Katie gripped the wheel. “No, we are not. We prayed, and God’s getting us through, and that is that.”
She hoped so, anyway. She couldn’t see the future.
All she could see was fire, getting bigger by the second. The highway squeezed through a narrow gulch in the mountain ahead, and the hillsides on both sides were alive with flames.
They were driving into a fiery gauntlet.
How stupid was that?
And she could only see the leading edge of the fire. How far back did it burn? A hundred feet?
A hundred yards?
A mile or more?
It was impossible to tell.
“This is suicide!” Jennifer scooted to the front of her seat and turned imploring eyes on Katie. “Turn around! While there’s still time!”
Katie was tempted. She was.
But she fixed her eyes on the motorhome ahead of her and kept her foot on the gas pedal. Trying not to think about the gas situation.
Dear Lord. Help us. Her eyes grew moist.
Help us!
Jennifer’s words bounced around her brain. Suicide. Turn around!
Oh, Lord, what should we do?
Trust. And drive on.
The words roamed into her mind just as loudly as Jennifer’s.
Trust.
Okay, Lord, I’m trusting you.
Just ahead, more cars turned around in the median. It looked like the last opportunity to turn back. She kept her eyes on the motorhome. Would Zach turn around?
If he didn’t, they were going through the fire!
***
Alana rubbed her eyelids. Would this day never end?
Grace Denver, the president’s chief of staff, answered a call and turned to the president. “Ambassador Wilford is calling.”
“I don’t have time for the freaking ambassador to Israel!” Basilia turned her dark eyes on Alana. “Would you deal with him?”
Alana nodded and glanced at Grace. “Would you put it through to the booth, please?”
A number of private phone booths were available for calls that did not need to be heard by everyone in the PEOC. Alana went into one and waited for Grace to transfer the call.
“Ambassador Wilford? This is Vice President Alana Mills.”
“I need to speak to the president,” the old man said.
Alana rolled her eyes. Hadn’t he wasted enough of their time this morning, when there was no crisis? Why was he calling now, in the middle of the night?
“She is not available. How can I help you?”
“There is a possibility that everything that is happening now is related to America’s betrayal of Israel.”
Alana blinked. Had the man lost his mind? He needed to retire. Seriously.
“You think we’ve been attacked by Jews?” She couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.
“No! No, of course not!”
“Then what are you saying?” She glanced at her watch. She’d give this guy exactly one more minute of her time.
“Listen, there are these prophecies… are you familiar with the Old Testament?”
“Isn’t that in the Bible?”
“Yes.”
“Then no. I’m not familiar. Look, Ambassador, we are dealing with a national crisis –”
“And I’m telling you, this is part of it!”
Alana sighed. Why did she get to deal with all the kooks? “Please make it quick.”
“It boils down to this – the prophecies say that a young country will betray Israel in the end times, and then that country will be destroyed. In a single day. In an hour.”
She really did not have time for conspiracy theories or prophecies or other esoteric anomalies. A real disaster needed her attention.
“Look, I’m out of time here. But don’t worry, the country has not been destroyed. We just have a crisis in California.”
“So far.” He said ominously.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This could blow up bigger than you think. The prophecies could be coming to pass.”
She glanced at her watch. His time was up.
“I have to go now. Good night, Mister Ambassador.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Alana hung up the phone. Weirdo!
Chapter 28
With his father in a rage, Nadir tried to think clearly. The old man wanted him out of his office. Fine. But he needed to contact the police again. They needed that helicopter!
Nadir lifted his hands in surrender.
“I’m leaving.” He stepped backward. “I’m going. But you need to radio the police again. It’s time.”
His father said nothing, just pointed toward the door, his face as dark as Nadir had ever seen it.
Nadir backed out into the hall.
“Close my door!” His father bellowed.
Nadir closed it, but didn’t move away. He had to hear what happened inside. His father had to radio again for assistance!
Finally, he heard his father’s muffled voice. He pressed his ear to the door.
“…how soon that helicopter will be here?”
The response over the radio was even more difficult to discern.
“…unable to land in your neighborhood… relocate to the hospital… fly you out… ten minutes…”
What? No! Nadir glanced toward the windows, where the glow of the fire was becoming increasingly pronounced. The nearest hospital was a long way from here. No way could they make it in ten minutes. It’d take that long in a vehicle, on a good traffic day!
But perhaps he’d misunderstood the conversation, given that he was listening to it through a heavy wood door.
He knocked gently, then pushed the door open.
“I am sorry, Father,” he said as contritely as he could. Not that he was sorry about his jihad – he was just sorry that his father was so upset.
His father said nothing, but he had the strangest expression on his face. Nadir found it impossible to read, and it actually frightened him.
“Are you alright?” He asked, moving into the room.
“No.” His father leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “We will not be rescued.”
“What?!” Nadir rushed forward. “You are the governor! Order someone to come get you!”
“The city police checked with state patrol. The helicopters have all been flown out, except one final one that is leaving from the hospital in ten minutes.” His father turned heavy eyes on him. “We obviously will not be on it.”
“Tell them to stop here and pick us up!”
“They cannot land in our neighborhood. The fire is too close.”
Dread settled in Nadir’s gut. No. This could not be happening!
He was never supposed to die in his own fires. And he wouldn’t! Somehow, he’d find a way. A place to hide.
“Father! We must go!” Nadir approached the governor. “We’ll find a shelter to wait out the fires.”
His father looked at him, but said nothing.
“Come on! We must leave, now!”
“There is no place to go. No place to hide from your inferno.” His father’s shoulders slumped.
“We’ll take shelter in a basement of a concrete building. Or a parking garage. Or something!” He held out his hand. “Come, we must go now!”
“No.” His father shook his head. “I do not wish to spend my last minutes running in fear, choking on smoke.”
“But
–”
“No.” He rubbed his chest. “I fear my heart is failing, even now. I will stay here. I will die with my constituents.”
The older man turned angry eyes on his son, and continued. “You run, Nadir Omar Salem Abdullah. Try to outrun the monster you have created. You will fail. And when you do, remember this: you have lost your mind, and you are no longer my son!”
***
The motorhome did not turn around. It plunged on toward the blazing inferno, and Katie followed it. A few dozen other vehicles continued on with them, but many – more than she expected – turned back at the last minute.
Zach was not one of those, so neither was Katie.
If she’d been driving the vehicle in front, would she have turned off? It was hard to say.
But now they were committed.
Beside her, Jennifer moaned and covered her eyes. She hunched down in her seat.
“Tell me when it’s over.”
They were within half a mile now, and closing fast.
Katie’s stomach lurched. She gulped air and tried not to cough. The truck grew warm.
These could be her last minutes on earth. They might all die in a roaring wildfire. What were they thinking?!
Her little boy was in that motorhome, headed straight into the inferno.
Oh, Lord – Oh, Lord! If you never help us again, help us now! If we are stupid beyond belief, honor our trust.
A vision of Abram taking his son Isaac up the mountain and placing him on the altar flashed into her mind. Talk about something that seemed crazy beyond belief! That took the cake. And yet, God honored Abram’s obedience, and his faith was counted to him as righteousness, and….
The fire roared. She could hear it over the pickup’s engine, with all the windows rolled up. Flames leapt from treetop to treetop, racing across the hillside at unbelievable speeds.
They were going to go through that?
Impossible.
Yet, with God, all things are possible.
The air in the pickup grew hotter. She perspired, and couldn’t know if it was from fear or from heat.
In the passenger seat, Jennifer had doubled over, putting her head between her knees and locking her hands over her head. Kind of like preparing for a crash landing in an airplane. She was muttering or moaning – it was hard to tell, her words were so unintelligible.
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