***
“Well, what does it mean then?” I said.
She held my hand. She did nice stuff like that all the time and it killed me. I never knew how to take her, but that was all my own baggage. She was just doing the things truly kind people do. “It means…we are going to be all right,” she said.
“We have very little food, game is getting scarce, we could be captured and tortured at any time, and we’ve both read what happens next. I’d say things are just peachy.”
She laughed. She always laughed at my stupid, pessimistic remarks. And I loved the way she opened her mouth wide, scrunching her nose and closing her eyes when she did.
I turned from the view and stared at her for a moment. Her face was dirty, and the day before, she had hacked at her hair with a knife till it was uneven and in places shorn nearly to the scalp. Still, it only set off her amazing features, and I couldn’t help myself when I pulled her in and tried to kiss her.
She pulled back, but she didn’t make me feel bad or awkward like some women in that situation might have. No, instead of moving away, she placed her hand on my cheek, looked me dead in the eyes, and said: “I love you for that.”
I didn’t know what to say, but somehow her words put me at ease. “I’m embarrassed,” I said.
“Don’t be.”
“Why not?” I said. “We’re clearly on different pages.”
“Maybe…but we’re both human. You might just be tougher than I am.”
“Hardly.”
“With all of this happening, you’re able to remain human. I’m too afraid,” she said.
“I’m afraid, too—believe me. Maybe I’m just too foolish to consider my priorities. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry—it was fine. I’m sure in other circumstances….”
“Why are you so nice?”
“I didn’t used to be.”
“I can’t picture that,” I said.
“The stories I could tell you….”
“I’d like to hear them.”
***
This was the end of my attempts at romance and the beginning of our friendship. Though secretly I couldn’t help but continue to be enamored with her. And I was good with that, probably because of what she had done for me. Even though it was all wrong—the time, the place, the two of us—she wouldn’t let me feel bad about it. She sold me on that spectacular morning. That’s what good people do: they sell kindness. A great salesman has to believe in what he sells. Danny believed in it wholeheartedly. Her kindness was complete.
18
The seven-year period of chaos, devastation, mayhem, and horror known to Christians as the Tribulation began immediately after the Rapture, but the really awful phases were fairly in their infancy as I settled into a routine with my new companions. Because we witnessed those world-shattering events from the skewed perspective of our mountain hideout, the following narrative is pieced together from what I remember and what I later learned at the Hall of Knowledge.
***
The Apostle John witnessed the events of the Tribulation while in exile on the island of Patmos for spreading the Gospel of Christ. John was given the vision by Jesus himself and was told to write down everything he had seen.
Many on the Old Earth looked at the Book of Revelation as previously transpired events, a metaphorical teaching, somebody’s wild dream, acid trip, or other such nonsense. What they didn’t understand was that John was describing future events from the viewpoint of a man who had never seen technology, modern armies, mechanized and advanced weaponry, or weapons capable of mass destruction. He was trying to describe these unfathomable and horrifying visions in the context of his own experiences and with the only words he knew:
“…And the stars of the sky fell to the earth…And the sky was split apart like a scroll when it is rolled up; and every mountain and island were moved out of their places…the sun became black…and the whole moon became like blood…a great star burning like a torch….”
Among the other horrors of the Tribulation, John had seen and done his best to describe a nuclear strike and its aftermath.
***
John wasn’t the first prophet to glimpse the horrors of atomic war. The prophet Zechariah was treated to an up-close look at its effects:
…Their flesh will rot while they stand on their feet, and their eyes will rot in their sockets, and their tongues will rot in their mouths.
If anyone on the Old Earth didn’t believe this was an exact description of the effects on a human being during a nuclear strike, they had only to read the eyewitness and forensic accounts of Hiroshima.
***
America had little choice but to develop the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But the world never forgave us for it. Critics argued that the development of the weapons and the destruction of those cities were unnecessary. The truth about the whole thing is at the Hall of Knowledge.
Although the Germans were never all that close to building a nuclear bomb, the Allies had no idea at the time, so they had no choice but to proceed at all cost.
Hitler was already living side by side with a demon who was feeding him all kinds of birdbrain ideas. The demon told old Adolf to push his scientists into creating the weapon so he could have it dropped on London. Other demons tried to help the German scientists’ efforts by whispering in their ears. The problem with those demons was their huge egos. Each of them thought they knew the best way to proceed, but the demons arguing in their heads only confused the scientists, delaying the whole process long enough for the Allies to take Berlin.
Meanwhile, the American scientists working on the Manhattan Project were getting a little help of their own. God had some of His best angels working with those scientists developing the bomb for the Allies. The demon interference had prompted Him to intervene on their behalf.
But why would God want to help create something so destructive that would eventually cause the deaths of millions of people? Answer: He didn’t want to, but He had little choice. Nuclear weapons would have been developed with or without God’s help. Had the Germans, or the Japanese, or even the Russians, or any number of maniacal, totalitarian regimes possessed atomic weapons before the United States, they would have used them against other nations, unfettered and without remorse. Only America and some of its allies, founded on Christian or at least Judaic principles, could be trusted with such weapons, as would eventually be proven.
As far as Hiroshima and Nagasaki were concerned, President Harry Truman authorized the dropping of those bombs to save the lives of hundreds of thousands of American soldiers who would have died trying to take down the Japanese Empire island by island.
Well, why didn’t he just invite the Japanese leaders to a demonstration or drop one in the ocean nearby? And why didn’t he stop with Hiroshima? Answer: some people just didn’t respond to subtlety.
***
Although we missed nuclear annihilation, as well as the brunt of the Tribulation Judgments, while hiding in our mountain enclave, it was of little consequence to most of the others who would perish anyway under violent and sometimes gruesome circumstances.
***
Joe Mellon was the first to die. Joe wasn’t as quick on the draw as he once was, but he was a still a heck of a shot with a pistol. So, with ammunition being a diminishing commodity, it was he and I who did most of the hunting. Not that I was any great marksman, but I did own the other firearms, and I knew the area better than the others.
***
Although he was unpredictable, even dangerous at times, anyone who went anywhere usually dragged Roger along to give everyone a break from and endeavor to mollify his maddening hyperactivity. So it was on a cold April morning when the three of us set out on another quest to find and kill the scarce game that might feed our hungry group.
***
Three hours into the hunt, we had only managed to bag a squirrel and a plump bird. We had planned on staying out another couple hours, but as usual, R
oger’s constant whining about not being allowed to shoot or even hold a weapon was driving Joe and me nuts, so we decided to head back, figuring we would be just as likely to run across game in the direction of the cave.
***
Roger wasn’t forbidden from holding or using firearms because of his low IQ, or even for being a psychopath and devil worshiper. It was because the first time he got hold of a rifle, he became so excited that for no apparent reason, and not realizing it was loaded, he jumped onto a flat rock, swung the weapon around, and blew the tip of Speckle’s ear off. (He would take more than a bit of ear from poor Speckle later.) When we asked him what the heck he was thinking, he replied, “I wasn’t.” It was a rare moment of honesty on his part.
***
The trail back to our cave took us close to the highway, which could be seen in short stretches woven through the trees and hills for quite some distance. Since the massive search several months before, when the Minions cornered us in the cave, we always had someone with a walkie-talkie watching the highway for their black SUVs. Billy had stolen the prized communication devices. Anyone venturing away from the hideout also carried one, so they could be warned of any possible Minion activity, especially if they were hunting, as not to discharge any weapons the Minions might hear. So far, our warning system had been very effective, allowing us time to leave the area during the Minions’ infrequent searches.
***
But our luck had run out. For the first time, the Minions came our way with only one vehicle, and Ida, who was on lookout that morning, became distracted when a rabbit ventured near a trap she had set by the overlook. She kept looking back and forth between the highway and the trap, and in one of those moments, a single SUV slipped past the visible highway, remaining concealed by the heavily wooded environment as it made its way up the mountain. The small party pulled off the highway, well outside Ida’s range of view, and onto a dirt road that ended near the trail we hunters followed that day.
***
Joe led this time, while I held the rear, with Roger between us where he could be looked after. The trail was narrow, curving wildly through the thick forest, and Roger, with his sizable build, also blocked much of my view, so I couldn’t see that his constant dawdling and frequent stops to complain or comment on nothing had allowed Joe to unknowingly venture some distance ahead of us.
I was only alerted when I heard a short burst of fire that I knew immediately hadn’t come from Joe’s police revolver but from an automatic weapon.
Roger, too, heard the shot, but he assumed Joe was shooting at an animal and began to speed up, skipping happily down the trail like some deranged clown.
I figured Joe for a goner and sprinted after Roger to stop him from having his brains blown out, or worse yet, from capture, because I promised his mother I’d look after the big galoot. As soon as I caught up with him, I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him backwards, driving him off his feet and onto his back. I jumped on top of him, covering his mouth and gesturing him to stay quiet and follow me into the foliage.
I must have given him quite a frightening look because he did exactly what I wanted for a change, quickly and without complaint. We barely managed to reach a safe enough distance from the trail and to conceal ourselves by lying low behind the trees when the Minions passed by us at a clip. Luckily, their urgency and the cold hard ground prevented them from noticing any foot prints that would have given our path away, but I figured it was only a matter of time before the light prints on the trail were discovered, turning them around. We needed to get back to warn the others.
***
I was hesitant to bring Roger past Joe’s body because I wasn’t sure how he’d react. Joe was like a father to the young man. Under his tutelage, Roger seemed to be thriving somewhat. Joe had even made some headway regarding the knucklehead’s satanic views. Roger would be crushed. But there was little choice. The trail was the quickest way back to the camp, and there would be much to do to get everyone off the mountain.
***
Two hundred yards up the trail we found Joe blocking the path. He was lying on his back staring at nothing. He must have surprised the Minions (one of whom managed a fairly tight circle of fire to Joe’s forehead, killing him instantly) because they always preferred capture. The Minions were probably disappointed, blowing an opportunity to beat and torture someone else to death.
No, the Minions didn’t have their fun that day—Joe’s death was a painless few bullets to the head. And he was already with Jesus; that much I knew. It was the only thing that made all the death bearable. In fact, much of our group, at one time or another, wished death upon themselves.
***
There was always talk of martyrdom, of the glory and certain finality of heading down the mountain with Bible in hand, to spread the Word to anyone who would listen. But it was I who always talked them out of it, sold them if you will on God’s preference for our survival, sold them on the sanctity of life, even though none of it was true, not anymore. The good Lord needed all the soldiers He could get, spreading His Word before it was too late, and I was only getting in the way.
Why did I stop them? Because I was afraid to be alone and because, for all the faith I might have claimed, I was still way too much of a coward to die for it.
***
Ahead of Roger, I grabbed his arm to guide him around the body, but he pulled away from me to kneel beside his lifeless mentor. He did not cry, only stared at the small bloody holes in Joe’s head. I gave him barely a moment. “We have to go,” I said.
He didn’t move at all.
“We have to get back. There is no time. Joe is with God now, Roger. We have to save the others. We have to save your mother.” I tried to pull him up on his feet, but he was dead weight and resisting. It was the first time I realized how big and strong the kid actually was. Driving him to the ground from behind was one thing, but it was pointless trying to lift him. I would have to talk him into leaving or go without him. “Please Roger, we don’t have any time—think about your mother.”
Roger still didn’t budge, and I almost left him there. I would have, too, but I knew I couldn’t face his mother without him. “Get up, you big dummy…I’m not leaving without you!” I said, and I hit him on the shoulder, not gently, with the butt of my rifle.
He didn’t react for a moment. But when Roger finally stood, the look he gave scared the crap out of me. He was about two inches taller, and he hovered over me with a blank stare that reminded me of the hazed, Private Leonard ‘Gomer Pyle’ Lawrence, in the movie Full Metal Jacket, right before Pyle cut down his drill sergeant with an M1 rifle in the latrine.
***
Neither of us said another word. Roger slid past me, heading up the trail. I watched him for a moment, realizing he had probably saved both our lives with his lagging, and so I followed him. He was never the same after that.
***
We all loved and missed Joe, but all of us, except Roger, smiled at the thought of Joe floating on a cloud, far removed from the daily grind, grime, hunger, and fear.
***
The Minions would comb the mountain for days, but we were already two valleys and a mountain away from our old hideout. The cave we eventually found was much smaller, and unstable, as we would soon find out, but for a short time it became our new home, until the Judgments of Revelation began to proliferate and turn our fleeting world upside down.
***
The rest of the world would experience the worst of it, death tolls that would make World War II and the genocidal purges of Hitler, Stalin, Mao, and Pol Pot look like the aftermath of a gang rumble. God had repressed Satan and his demonic legions for centuries to save as many souls as possible, but now that the end was so near, the wake-up calls would have to become louder to jolt the unrepentant. Unfortunately, most of the survivors were too attached to the world and its trappings, too prideful or evil to listen, or too hungry or desperate to avoid the Mark.
***
&n
bsp; Hitler got the press for being the biggest genocidal maniac on the Old Earth, at least prior to the Antichrist’s reign of terror, but it was really China’s Mao Tse-tung who deserved the honor. Mao’s death count totaled nearly eighty million, seven times that of the Nazi dictator. But Mao was never fully demonized for his nefarious works. Even the stubborn Russian government had eventually denounced Stalin for his crimes against humanity. Yet, there was Mao’s big mug, hanging across East Asia from every available space up until the very end, like he was the Chinese Abraham Lincoln or something.
***
God did not release the full power of Satan and his cohorts all at once, otherwise the Tribulation couldn’t have lasted more than a few months—not time to wake enough people up. Satan or Lucifer was the first to be released, however, and he immediately took full possession of Victor Talley, the world leader he had already been influencing for some time.
Talley was now the full-blown Antichrist, a willingly possessed soul capable of the most horrendous pursuits. Next, Lucifer’s longtime fallen angel buddy, known in ancient times on the Old Earth as the god Zeus, took possession of Peter, the last Pope in Rome.
Peter the Roman was the False Prophet from the Book of Revelation who would lead the remaining Catholics (those who missed the Rapture) and much of the rest of the world into the pagan religion of the New World Order. Together with the Antichrist and Satan, the three formed the unholy trinity.
***
In 1139, an Irish Bishop named Malachy travelled to Rome to give an accounting of his district, a tradition at the time. Malachy was blown away by the Italian City and was anxious to meet his fellow clergy working in the splendor of the Vatican. However, on his first day of appointments, he was suddenly stricken by waves of vertigo, which forced him to retire to his sleeping quarters. Once there, he began to experience a series of visions regarding the future pontiffs of the Catholic Church. He began to write down these predictions concerning the 112 imminent popes of Rome.
What the Hand: A Novel About the End of the World and Beyond Page 20
