Deceived

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  Vicki shook her head. “I should have known when I heard about the missing guillotines that it was something like this.”

  “Problem is, they’re easy to make. The ones we destroy get replaced by local companies in a few days. We’ve slowed the GC down a little, but not much.”

  “Won’t the GC know you’re destroying them?” Shelly said.

  “Sometimes we change the shipping records so me and my buddies aren’t even on the list. Other times, like this one, I borrow the trailer from an official GC driver.”

  “You mean steal it?”

  “I guess you could call it that. I know some people might think it’s wrong, but I figure the only reason these contraptions exist is to kill believers. If I can do something to stop it, I will.”

  “What happened to you after you left the schoolhouse and went back east?” Shelly said.

  “I actually headed south for several runs to believers down there. Oh, your friend Carl Meninger says to say hello. He’s still hiding from the GC in South Carolina with the people on that island.”

  “You mean Luke and Tom?” Vicki said.

  Pete nodded. “The GC got pretty close to them while they were hunting for Carl, but they’ve got a good hiding place. And more and more people are becoming believers down there.”

  “How did you get official GC stickers for your truck?” Shelly said.

  “Zeke Jr. arranged that a while ago. I’m on their official roster of freelance truckers available for ‘sensitive loads’ as they call it. I’ve hauled everything from uniforms to computers to those guillotines back there.”

  Pete took Vicki’s walkie-talkie and radioed the van to take the next exit. They drove a few miles into the countryside to a long, metal building. Pete flashed his lights twice, a door creeped open, and Pete drove in.

  A wrinkled little man wearing a green hat with a deer on the front helped Pete unhook his trailer and put on a new one. They loaded the injector devices into the new trailer and were back on the road in a few minutes.

  “What will that guy do with the guillotines?” Vicki said when they reached the interstate.

  “He and a couple of friends will unload them, pull them apart, and burn the wood. They’ll keep the metal until they can figure out what to do with it.”

  Pete asked the latest about the kids, and Vicki detailed the GC chase and the hideout in Wisconsin. Pete was excited to hear about The Cube and asked about Judd.

  “He and Lionel were in Israel for a long time, but now—”

  “No, what about Judd and you?”

  Shelly rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t think anybody knows.”

  Pete laughed. “Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you two were meant for each other.”

  Vicki blushed. “This isn’t anybody’s business.”

  Pete playfully socked her shoulder. “When it’s my sister, it’s my business, you get me? You can deny it all you want, but just the way you’re reacting now tells me a lot.”

  Vicki smiled. “Can we change the subject?”

  While Judd waited for a return message from Chang, Lionel stood in the doorway to the bedroom and watched Z-Van’s interview. Lars, the filmmaker, sat with his back to the camera and asked Z-Van about his music, his past, and what attracted him to Carpathia.

  “My music was going well, and I suppose everything would have kept going just as it had, but finding something to sing about, to write about, that has so much meaning makes me understand what my life is all about.”

  “Explain,” Lars said.

  “Well, making money is wonderful, selling lots of recordings, and having fans think you’re a god is fantastic, but it’s not until you find what your life focus is about that you really understand the meaning of art. The best paintings, the best music, even the best films, don’t really come from you, they come from observing something bigger than you. When I first heard His Excellency, his speeches blew me away. He has a grasp of every detail of life. He knows how to point people toward a goal, which is peace, and take them there.”

  Z-Van talked about Nicolae’s resurrection and what it was like to actually see it happen. When the interview was over, Lars turned to his staff and looked at his watch. “We have about two hours to get the equipment to the next site. Let’s make it happen.”

  Lionel turned to Westin. “What’s the next site?”

  “Building D. Z-Van’s going to be the first civilian to take Carpathia’s mark.”

  4

  LIONEL and Westin followed Z-Van and the camera crew to Building D. Lionel offered to help move some of the heavy road cases filled with equipment, but the workers wouldn’t let him.

  It was a festive atmosphere inside with people stepping out of offices or lingering by watercoolers to get a glimpse of one of the most famous musicians in the world. People whispered and pointed when they saw Z-Van, and a few recognized the film director as well. When someone held out a pen and a piece of paper for an autograph, one of Z-Van’s bodyguards pushed the person away and Z-Van waved. “Sorry.”

  As the camera crew set up, Z-Van and Lars ducked into a private office. A few minutes later, a uniformed Peacekeeper rushed into the room, followed by a full detail of Peacekeepers that stood guard by each entrance.

  Lionel recognized Roy Donaldson, the Peacekeeper Judd had met earlier, and walked up to him. “Looks like you’ll get to see Z-Van in person.”

  Donaldson smiled. “Better than that. I get two for one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The potentate is on his way. He’s going to watch Z-Van take the mark.”

  Vicki and Shelly talked with Pete as the truck rolled across the Illinois border. Vicki explained how they had met the Iowa group at a college about fifty miles from Des Moines. Though the campus was in ruins, the kids had organized a group to hear Vicki explain the message.

  “Did many people believe?” Pete said.

  Vicki nodded. “And as we moved west, it seemed like the crowds got bigger. People were desperate to hear the truth.”

  “I wish I had had the same success. I went south to tell some friends what happened, thinking they’d want to hear what I had to say, but most of them were either caught up with Carpathia or they just wanted to be left alone.”

  “I don’t understand that,” Shelly said. “We have something that will give them meaning, purpose, and life that won’t end.”

  “I guess that’s how people felt about me before the vanishings,” Pete said. “They tried to tell me about God, and I labeled them religious nuts.”

  Shelly frowned. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. I did the same thing.”

  Colin radioed from the van ahead that Natalie had traced the captured kids to a GC reeducation facility on the outskirts of Des Moines. Pete pulled over and everyone got in the van.

  Colin outlined the plan and everyone received their assignments. Pete would deliver the injector machines after dark that evening, while the others cut a hole in the fence outside the camp. Jim Dekker would put an order in from the fictitious Commander Blakely that all suspected Judah-ites be separated and left outside overnight. That would give the kids a chance to get their friends’ attention and free them. “Plus we don’t have to set foot inside the camp,” Colin said.

  “Any idea when they’ll start the mark applications?” Conrad said.

  “They can’t do a thing as long as I have the goods in the back of my truck,” Pete said.

  “Unless they get another shipment from somewhere,” Colin said, “they won’t be able to start until tomorrow. That should leave us enough time to get everyone out.”

  “How many believers are we talking about?” Pete said.

  “The official word is that thirteen Judah-ites were taken into custody,” Colin said.

  “We should prepare for a few more in case these kids convinced some on the inside of the truth,” Pete said. “I can handle them in my truck once I deliver my load.”

  “Why are you destroying the guillot
ines but delivering the injectors?” Shelly said.

  “I have to deliver something,” Pete said. “I figure the chip injectors are bad for the people who take it, but it doesn’t kill any believers. Plus it gets me inside enemy lines.”

  The phone rang and Colin walked outside to talk with Jim Dekker. When he came back, he had a grave look. “Jim says that site now has a guillotine. They’re just waiting on the chip injectors. We’ll have to go in earlier than we thought, and maybe during daylight.”

  “How will we get them out?” Shelly said.

  Colin sighed. “We need a decoy.”

  Judd saw nothing from Chang throughout the morning. He logged on to the kids’ Web site and read the mountain of e-mails responding to The Cube. Many reported family members and friends finally realizing the truth after seeing it.

  Next, he read the latest Buck Williams report in the cyberzine The Truth. With his contacts around the world, Buck wrote stories that revealed Carpathia’s lies without exposing believers who gave Buck information.

  Judd was excited when he found a new e-mail from Tsion Ben-Judah. Tsion wrote that he was grateful for the questions he had received at his Web site because it proved many were studying and growing. He spoke of the hope of Christ’s return soon and referred to a quote from the apostle Paul, who said, “Living is for Christ, and dying is even better.”

  The next passage disturbed Judd. Tsion wrote that the top priority of believers was not to stop Antichrist from evil.

  I want to confound him, revile him, enrage him, frustrate him, and get in the way of his plans every way I know how.

  But Tsion said believers should not simply try to fight Carpathia. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Judd thought. The next paragraph answered Judd’s question.

  So, as worthy and noble a goal as it is to go on the offensive against the evil one, I believe we can do that most effectively by focusing on persuading the undecided to come to faith. Knowing that every day could be our last, that we could be found out and dragged to a mark application center, there to make our decision to die for the sake of Christ, we must be more urgent about our task than ever.

  Since many had written about fearing the guillotine, Tsion wrote about his own fears.

  In my flesh I am weak. I want to live. I am afraid of death but even more of dying. The very thought of having my head severed from my body repulses me as much as it does anyone. In my worst nightmare I see myself standing before the GC operatives a weakling, a quivering mass who can do nothing but plead for his life. I envision myself breaking God’s heart by denying my Lord. Oh, what an awful picture!

  In my most hated imagination I fail at the hour of testing and accept the mark of loyalty that we all know is the cursed mark of the beast, all because I so cherish my own life.

  Judd closed his eyes and pictured himself with Global Community Peacekeepers around him, shoving him toward a guillotine. With the prospect of death, would he have the courage to say no to Carpathia? Tsion continued.

  I have good news for you. The Bible tells us that once one is either sealed by God as a believer or accepts the mark of loyalty to Antichrist, this is a once-and-for-all choice. … That tells me that somehow, when we face the ultimate test, God miraculously overcomes our evil, selfish flesh and gives us the grace and courage to make the right decision in spite of ourselves. My interpretation of this is that we will be unable to deny Jesus, unable to even choose the mark that would temporarily save our lives.

  Judd smiled but was still troubled. If that’s true, what happened to Chang?

  Judd’s computer blipped, and he quickly saved Tsion’s message and vowed to read the rest later.

  The e-mail was from Chang. I need to see you. Many questions. Meet me at the gazebo tonight at dusk.

  Judd quickly replied and attached Tsion’s latest letter. Though Judd had seen Chang’s mark identifying him with Christ, he couldn’t help wondering how Chang had Carpathia’s mark and what that would do to his soul.

  Lionel stood in a corner with Westin and watched the scene unfold. Z-Van and Lars emerged from the isolated room and workers clapped. Z-Van put a hand in the air and waved. “I’m not the hero here. There is one much greater than me coming.”

  Z-Van rocked back and forth, fidgeting and pulling his head one way and then another until his neck popped. Finally, the elevator opened. Lionel stood on tiptoes, trying to see. There was more clapping and movement, and though someone blocked Lionel’s view, he sensed evil in the room. Nicolae Carpathia, the man most of the world worshiped, had arrived.

  Lars hurriedly motioned his film crew to begin shooting. Cameras flashed as Carpathia shook hands with Z-Van. “It is my pleasure to welcome you as an honorary Global Community worker, and have you take the mark in the same location as my most loyal followers. Congratulations.”

  “You don’t know what an honor this is, sir,” Z-Van said.

  “I can only hope the world will want to follow in your footsteps, young man.” Carpathia scanned the room, nodding at the workers. “You can see we have a true representation of the world’s population in this room. Every ethnic background conceivable is here.”

  “Very impressive, sir.”

  Carpathia walked to the mark application area, picked up an injector, and looked into the camera lens. “With this simple device and the application of the mark of loyalty, we will monitor every citizen on earth. Any law-abiding person would be happy to use this technology if it means an outbreak of unparalleled peace, which it does.” Carpathia looked at Z-Van. “And I am pleased that a person of your stature and talent wants to show his fans such a moment of leadership.”

  Z-Van seemed mesmerized by Carpathia. When Nicolae finished, Z-Van nodded and a Peacekeeper took him by the arm and led him to the machine.

  Lionel wanted to scream and tell Z-Van not to take the mark, not to sell his soul to the devil, but Lionel knew he was helpless. Z-Van stood spellbound by this enemy of God.

  Z-Van sat in a plush chair and scooted against the back. Nicolae smiled and leaned back, allowing the camera to focus on the technician about to apply the mark. The woman looked Filipino and wore gloves. She asked Z-Van a few questions and typed the information into the computer. Since Z-Van was from the United North American States, she set the region code, brushed the hair from Z-Van’s forehead, and dabbed at it with a tiny, wet cloth.

  With the implanter set, she pressed the device to Z-Van’s skin. People around Lionel leaned forward to get a better look. Lionel heard a loud click, then a whoosh.

  “Is that it?” Z-Van said.

  The woman smiled and nodded. “Now all you need is the identifying mark.”

  “Give me the number here,” Z-Van said, pointing to his forehead.

  Carpathia shook the man’s hand. “I trust this will make your music even more enjoyable.”

  A camera flashed and people around the room clapped. Lionel looked at Westin and shook his head. The procedure had taken only a few seconds and seemed innocent. A person simply received the embedded chip under the skin and a GC number or symbol on the forehead. But those few seconds sealed Z-Van’s fate for eternity.

  Carpathia held out his hands to the group, looked into the camera, and smiled. “Now, who will be next?”

  5

  JUDD listened to Lionel’s story about Z-Van and shuddered. If they had ever hoped he would become a believer, that hope was gone now.

  “We got out of there fast,” Lionel said. “You think it’s safe traveling with a guy who’s taken Carpathia’s mark?”

  “I don’t know that the mark means he’s under any special mind control. He’s just made his final decision.”

  Westin sighed. “Maybe it’s time we all got out. We could get a flight back to the States.”

  “We still have time,” Judd said. “And I really want to be in Israel when Carpathia comes to the Jewish temple.”

  Near dusk, Judd set out alone for his meeting with Chang. Along the street he saw televisions through
shop windows tuned to the Global Community Network News. He paused long enough to see footage of Z-Van taking Carpathia’s mark. The anchor reported that an anonymous worker inside the Global Community provided the video.

  I’ll bet Carpathia had someone shoot that himself, Judd thought.

  Judd rubbed sweaty palms along his pants as he approached the gazebo. A few uniformed officers strolled the grounds, and several couples talked and laughed on nearby benches. He was in the gazebo only a few minutes when Chang approached, still wearing the red baseball cap.

  Chang’s face looked tight, and he appeared skittish. Judd reached out to shake his hand, but Chang reached for his cap instead. “You want to see what they did to me?”

  Chang whipped off his cap and stared at Judd. The mark of the believer—a cross—was clear. Over it, a small, black tattoo simply read 30. Beside the number was a half-inch pink scar.

  “They say the scar will heal in a few days, but that won’t make me look any less like a freak!”

  Judd put a hand on Chang’s shoulder and led him to a bench. “Don’t talk like that.”

  Chang put a hand to his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you and got out when I could.”

  “What happened?”

  Chang put his hat on and Judd was relieved. He couldn’t stop staring at the dual marks.

  “My father and one of Carpathia’s top men did it. I don’t remember much about what happened.”

  “We saw your father and Moon take you out of the elevator.”

  “I had another big fight with my father before all this happened. I screamed at him.”

  “Did you tell him the truth?”

  “He and Moon both thought I was upset about getting a shot. They laughed and made fun of me because I was afraid of the needle. I have no idea what I said or did on the way to get the mark. You’re looking at the newest hire for the Global Community.”