by Mark Romang
“Not much. But we know Banks is smart. He graduated from MIT with a degree in computer science. He made a nice living as a software engineer. He doesn’t have a criminal history and by all accounts was a model citizen before and shortly after the vanishings. The only thing that might raise a flag about Banks is that the software development company he worked for contracted with Henrik Skymolt on numerous occasions. There’s a picture of Banks and all the rebels thought to be living on the peninsula in the folder.”
Loomis sifted through the photos until he found Banks’s picture. Nathan Banks looked like a typical, young computer geek. Twenty five, certainly no more than thirty, dark hair and a slender build. A city boy for sure. But looks can be deceptive. If Banks was still living after all this time off the grid he must have some moxie to him.
“My secretary is booking the next flight out of LAX for you. She’s also getting you a rental car,” Trestman said.
Loomis nodded. “You’re not wasting any time, Bill.”
Trestman took another sip of coffee. “Tucker Stiggs needs to be off the streets. A lot has changed in this world since the vanishings. But one thing hasn’t changed. There are still bad guys running around and wreaking havoc. We may not be called the FBI any more, but we still fight crime. And I still find it exciting.”
“Why did you choose me to go after Stiggs?”
Trestman stepped further into the cubicle and laid a hand on Loomis’s shoulder. He lowered his voice. “Because you’re a good lawman, Nick. I trust you completely. And there’s something about you that makes you different, sets you apart from my other agents. I’m not sure what it is, but it defines you.”
Loomis felt his face flush at Trestman’s praise. He quickly powered down his computer and stood up, grabbed his duty gun and holster. “Okay, Boss, I’m off to the Pacific Northwest.”
“One more thing, Nick. Tucker Stiggs is a violent man. If he gets you backed into a corner, don’t hesitate to shoot to kill. Don’t try to be a hero and bring him in alive if it’s too difficult. Either way we get a killer off the streets.” Trestman looked at Loomis’s side arm and frowned. “I think you need a bigger caliber than a 9mm to go up against Tucker Stiggs. Go by the armory before you leave and get yourself a forty-five.”
“I’ll be sure and do that, Bill.”
“Okay, Nick, good luck.”
Chapter 12
Olympic Peninsula
Sweating despite the chilly drizzle, Nathan Banks swung his machete with a vengeance, cutting his way through the bush. His bushwhacking took him up a damp scree slope. Brooke followed behind him a few paces back. She called out, “What is this spiny stuff? I hate it. It keeps sticking me. And it’s growing everywhere.”
Banks took a break and stopped. “This plant is called devil’s club,” he panted, referring to the tall, leafy stalks, some of them over ten feet tall, their stems covered with thorns. “In the spring you can eat the new leaf buds and stems. They’re tasty. Once we get up a little higher in elevation we won’t encounter anymore devil’s club.”
“I’ll take your word about them being tasty. But you better not be fibbing about us leaving this awful plant behind.”
Banks looked at her, saw she looked worn out. “Let’s take a break and sit down. There’s a boulder over here. I’ll clear the devil’s club away from it and we’ll take a load off.” He lopped off the devil’s club close to the ground all around the boulder, clearing a path. The large boulder was long and relatively flat and shaped like a headstone. Moss covered its top surface.
Brooke sat down and sighed heavily. “Thanks, I appreciate the rest.”
Banks sat down next to her. He took off his backpack and fished out a 20 oz. plastic bottle once filled with Pepsi long ago. He handed it to Brooke. “Thirsty?”
Brooke looked at the beat-up plastic bottle. “How long have you been carrying that around? It looks ancient and dirty.”
“The bottle is pretty old but the water is fresh.”
Brooke took the bottle and took a few small sips, then handed the bottle back to him.
“I take it you don’t like the outdoors.”
Brooke shrugged. “I like looking at it, I just don’t like being in it for too long. I feel so dirty out here.”
Banks smiled. “You look fine to me. Think of the dirt smudges as nature’s makeup.”
Brooke blushed a little. She studied his face for a moment. “You’ve been growing your beard for some time, haven’t you?”
Banks nodded. “I ran out of shaving cream and razors a long time ago. I used to shave with a knife but stopped. If you cut yourself out here you run the risk of infection. And then you’re screwed.”
Silence fell between them for an extended moment. “What was your wife’s name?” Brooke asked.
“Jenny. But I called her Jenny Ann. She hated that. Ann was her middle name.”
“Were you with her when she vanished?”
Banks looked down upon hearing the question.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay. I probably need to talk about it to someone,” Banks said quietly. He took a drink from the plastic bottle. “We’d been married exactly three months. So I left work early that day and prepared a romantic, candlelit dinner for us. I made lasagna and garlic bread, even bought some wine. We had just sat down to eat, but then I noticed I’d forgotten the salad tongs. So I got up and went into the kitchen to fetch the tongs and when I came back to the table…Jenny was gone.”
“What did you do?”
Banks stared at his scuffed and worn hiking boots. “At first I thought Jenny simply got up and went to the bathroom. But then after an inordinate amount of time went by I went looking for her. I went room to room, calling out her name. I started to freak out, even got a little mad. And then I left our apartment and went outside to look for her. Out in the street there was a crowd of people milling around and calling out various names. I soon discovered there were other people missing in our apartment complex. I noticed sirens were blaring everywhere. It was just a chaotic scene all the way around, like something from a movie. And then someone came running out and told everyone to go turn on their TVs. We all went back in and turned on our sets. And when I saw there were millions missing all around the world. I knew what had happened. Jenny had talked to me about the coming Rapture numerous times.”
The drizzle intensified into rain. Brooke hunched her shoulders and looked at him. She met his green eyes before shifting her gaze upward to rest on his forehead. “I don’t see the believer’s mark on you, Nathan.”
Banks shrugged. “I believe in God and Jesus, but I figure since God left me behind, he doesn’t want me, so I don’t want him. God is cruel anyway. So it’s no big loss.”
“I understand your anger, Nathan. I raged at God for a long time. But then I realized that God loves me just as much as those he took home in the Rapture. He wanted to take me and my brothers, and God wanted to take you too. But we scorned God’s love. We never confessed our sins, and we never admitted our need to be forgiven.”
Banks shook his head. “How can you say God is loving when he’s destroyed so many families by splitting them apart?”
“God displayed his great love long ago when he sent Jesus into the world to die for our sins. And I think God displayed his love again when he raptured his people a little over three years ago. He knew how terrible it would be during this time, and out of mercy and love, took his people home to Heaven so they wouldn’t have to endure the persecution and hardships we’re enduring now. God isn’t up in Heaven laughing at us and our plight. He doesn’t enjoy our suffering. I believe God is heartbroken that we’re not with him.”
“I must be stubborn or stupid or both, because you still haven’t convinced me, Brooke.”
Brooke grabbed his wrist and leaned in closer to him. Rain dripped off her hood onto his leg. Her aquamarine eyes locked onto him fiercely. “Nathan, you need to figure this out. Because even if
you make it to the end of the Tribulation without taking Skymolt’s chip, and then live through the Millennial Reign, you’ll still eventually face God’s wrath, and you’ll spend eternity in hell. So if you don’t intend on ever becoming a Christ follower, you might as well change directions and hike to town and take the chip and buy yourself a big, juicy steak. This living off the grid isn’t getting you anywhere.”
Banks stood up. “We need to move on,” he said gruffly. “We can hike for another hour. And then we need to rig up a shelter to spend the night. So let’s go.”
Chapter 13
Heaven
“I brought you lunch, Spencer,” Sara Maddix said to her son.
From atop Heaven’s northern wall, Spencer Maddix turned and faced Sara. He smiled at his radiant mother, so beautiful with the golden light playing across her hair and skin. He took the bowl of manna and flask of living water. “Thank-you, Mom. Will you be joining me?”
Sara held up a piece of fruit. “I can stay for a little while if you want me to.”
Spencer nodded. “We’re almost done practicing, and then I’ll eat.”
Sara watched a line of saints numbering 1,000 march upon the wall’s jasper surface up to the edge, draw their bows and release arrows at distant targets outside the city wall. Once the saints released their arrows they retreated across the 200 foot thick wall and made way for another 1,000 archers to advance and shoot. Her son was in charge of 10,000 archers. Sara didn’t know how many archers there were in total, but knew it was an extraordinary amount. She smiled. “You’re doing a fine job, Spencer. Their accuracy astounds me.”
“We never miss. At least I don’t ever remember seeing anyone miss a shot. I just wish we could put our skills to use.”
“Do I detect a hint of frustration in your voice? I didn’t think it was possible to feel displeasure in Heaven.”
Spencer shook his head. “I am perfectly content. I enjoy my task and am honored to serve God as the leader of 10,000 archers. I love shooting my bow. Each shot I take is exciting and fulfilling. I just wish I could take my archers on a mission and test our skill.”
Sara smiled knowingly. “You wish to be with your father, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I feel like I am a warrior like Dad. I would love to go on a mission with him.”
“Spencer, you are so much like your father. Andrew’s warrior blood surely runs through your veins. But Andrew is on a dangerous mission. He’s in Teredel, a terrible place. I wouldn’t want you to go there. Darkness reigns in Teredel.”
“But there has to be a purpose to all this practicing. I just wished I knew.”
Sara touched her son’s arm. “God has a purpose for each of us. And his purposes are always wise and good.” She looked behind her and at the golden city towering above her. Down on the first level, trebuchets were being wheeled up toward the wall. Assisted by angels, dozens of saints worked happily together, laughing and singing as they maneuvered the cumbersome war machines efficiently into place. Sara shifted her gaze and looked all along the bejeweled wall for as far as she could see in both directions. More trebuchets were being incrementally positioned near the wall. “It looks like you will be defending Heaven to me, Spencer. That’s the purpose of you and your archers.”
“But who would be foolish enough to attack Heaven?”
“I can think of someone right away.”
Spencer looked down at the giant trebuchets, cousins to the catapult. “You think Satan is planning to lay siege to Heaven?”
“I do. Chapter 12 in Revelation refers to it. Verse 7 says: And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back.”
“I thought that passage referred to the original battle when Lucifer rebelled, along with a third of the angels.”
“I once thought that as well. But it looks like another battle is looming.”
Spencer reached behind his neck and pulled an arrow from his quiver. His turn approached. “Well, then Michael and Dad and Webb need to hurry up and return before they miss it.”
“Oh, they won’t miss it, Spencer. And then you’ll get your wish. You can fight alongside your father.”
Spencer nodded. “Those demons are going to wish they never followed Satan. We’ll fill the sky and the demons with arrows.”
Sara smiled an anticipatory smile. “And the best part is Satan will never be allowed in Heaven again. His days of accusing us will end.”
“Amen to that, Mom,” Spencer said, nocking his arrow. He leaned over and kissed her. “I have to take my last shot. And then I’ll eat with you.”
“I will wait for you.” Sara watched her son walk up to the wall’s edge. The way Spencer walked, the slope of his neck, the width of his shoulders, it all reminded her of Andrew. She shook her head. Spencer is just like his father.
Chapter 14
Olympic Peninsula
Tucker Stiggs checked his GPS receiver, making sure the coordinates matched up with those printed on a piece of paper included in the manila envelope. The coordinates were the last known location a drone had tracked Nathan Banks to.
Stiggs shook his head in bewilderment. The coordinates matched up. But a narrow waterfall—maybe twenty feet in height—cascaded down a hillside and blocked his path. He could detour around the noisy waterfall, climb the steep hill and see what lay on the other side, but doing so would eat up valuable time. Only a half hour of daylight remained before darkness visited the rainforest. And he needed that much time to set up camp and pitch his tent somewhere.
Stiggs liked to think of himself as a man of action. He hated unexpected delays, despised how they slowed him down. Right now the inaction made his blood pressure rise to dangerous levels. Stroking out here in a rainforest next to a waterfall might seem sublime to some people. But Stiggs always figured he would die in a hail of bullets, a convoy of police cruisers giving chase, a shoot ‘em up ending to make any outlaw proud and envious.
From his position, Stiggs tried to peer through the waterfall. He wondered if there was some kind of depression, a cleft or tunnel behind the cascade that Banks might have hidden in until the drone passed over. But he couldn’t see anything beyond the spilling water. There just wasn’t enough light left to enable him to see properly. Stiggs swore and stamped off. He retreated a ways into the woods and found an isolated place suitable to pitch his backpacking tent.
He fumed as he set up his tent, his big fingers nearly snapping the poles. Stiggs didn’t consider himself an outdoorsman, but he did have experience in the mountains. He’d tracked more than one rebel into the Rocky Mountains, had once spent a whole week above eight-thousand feet tracking a rebel. And he’d survived that expedition with less gear than he carried with him now.
His tent went up in six minutes, and Stiggs then used the last of the twilight to gather firewood. It wasn’t easy to find dry wood in a rainforest, but he managed to find a long, dead branch nearby that he broke into several pieces. He placed a fire starter wedge on the ground, arranged some kindling around it, and then made a teepee above it with the firewood. He lit the fire starter. Bright orange flames soon lapped at the dry wood.
Stiggs sat down by the fire and watched it burn. The wood sizzled and popped and sent embers floating up into the air. Enjoying the fire’s warmth, Stiggs puzzled over the waterfall in his mind. Something didn’t add up. Nathan Banks didn’t possess magical powers. He couldn’t just snap his fingers and disappear like some kind of wizard, and yet somehow he had.
The waterfall knew the secret. Stiggs was sure enough to bet his life on it. I’ll turn in early, grab some sleep and get up at dawn and figure out this waterfall, he thought.
Somewhere nearby Nathan Banks left some clues, evidence that would eventually lead to his capture. “They always leave behind clues,” Stiggs mumbled. “And I know what to look for.”
Chapter 15
British Columbia
Standing in the dark street, half-hidden in
shadows, Tanner Mason said in a low voice, “I think this is a bad idea, C.J. We’ve had our fun vandalizing the chipping kiosks. We’ve also pushed our luck. This might be the time we get caught.”
“You’re probably right, brother. But I can’t resist the temptation,” C.J. answered in a voice hardly more than a whisper.
Tanner tugged on C.J.’s arm. “We should stay on the move and leave this town behind us. This kiosk is right next to the city hall. You know there has to be a camera aimed on it.”
“I doubt it. This is just a Podunk town. Look, we’ve survived bears and wolves, frigid river crossings, rockslides, months of sub-zero temperatures, illnesses and no food. God is with us, Tanner. He’s keeping us alive and free.”
“You’re right, C.J., God is definitely with us. By rights we should’ve died long ago. He’s pulled us out of plenty of bad scrapes that should’ve killed us. But I think in this case God wants us to use our common sense.”
C.J. shook his head and smiled. He lifted his spray paint can. “I have to do it. I’ll be fast, I promise.”
Tanner rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ll give you thirty seconds, but no more.”
“Your watch stopped working a long time ago.”
“I can count to thirty in my head. Let’s go and get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit, Tanner. I’m going to make you a rebel yet,” C.J. said before heading for the chipping kiosk, shaking his can on the way.
Mumbling under his breath, Tanner skulked behind his brother, who kept to the shadows as much as he could and angled toward the one-story building serving as the city hall. They quickly ducked behind some bushes when a car turned down the street, its headlights shining at their brightest setting. Fortunately the car didn’t slow and drove on by. After its taillights disappeared they left the bushes and jogged up to the building. They climbed three wooden steps and stepped onto the building’s small porch.
