Hunted

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  “There are a couple of people who evidently didn’t want to risk taking us in. I think they’ll be okay, but we have to be sensitive to everybody’s feelings.”

  “So bottom line, you have no idea when—”

  “I know exactly when I’ll be there, and that’s as soon as I can. The very second I get the chance.”

  Sam found Mr. Stein speaking with a group of older believers in a cave. When he got the man alone, he showed him a copy of the e-mail from Aron Ben-Eliezar.

  “This is one of the sons of the rabbi we helped escape Jerusalem?” Mr. Stein said.

  “I’m sure of it. I didn’t tell him where I was. He must think I’m in Israel because he asks to see me in Tel Aviv. Read what he says.”

  Sam,

  I finally received your note. Thank you for writing. I’m glad to know my parents are safe, but I don’t believe they are followers of Ben-Judah. I know they aren’t foolish enough to buy what Carpathia says, but they wouldn’t turn their backs on our faith.

  Joel and I would like to talk with you, but not by email or phone. And please, don’t tell my parents about contacting me. If you can come late tomorrow night, we will wait for you.

  Shalom,

  Aron

  Aron gave a location and a specific time at the bottom of the page. Mr. Stein folded the paper and took a deep breath. “Something about this troubles me.”

  “You think they are loyal to the Global Community?”

  Mr. Stein shook his head. “No. I think they are lost lambs who need a shepherd, but I don’t know what to do.”

  “Let me go see them. I’ll talk with them and tell them the truth.”

  Mr. Stein pursed his lips.

  “The Co-op has pilots. I could ride with one of them.”

  “Wait here,” Mr. Stein said. He climbed down the steep stairway cut into the rock and disappeared.

  Sam leaned against the wall and looked out on hundreds of thousands who had made their home in the ancient city. He looked toward the computer building and sighed. I guess Naomi was kind with what she said, Lord, but it still hurts.

  A few minutes later Mr. Stein returned, his face tight. “I have spoken with the elders about the matter, and they are praying for direction. Unless they disagree with the plan, I will accompany you and we will find Aron and Joel together.”

  5

  SAM shook hands with Mac McCullum and boarded the plane that had carried more materials to Petra. The Tribulation Force didn’t have to worry about feeding the people here, but there were still ongoing computer and building needs.

  Mac talked loudly and didn’t hide the fact that he thought it was dangerous to send two believers into Israel. “But if the elders have given their approval, they must have a good reason.”

  “We all submit to their authority,” Mr. Stein said. “If they had told us not to go, there would have been no question.”

  “Who are you looking for?” Mac said.

  “They are sons of a rabbi and his wife who are now in Petra,” Mr. Stein said.

  Mac asked why the parents weren’t going to talk with them, and Sam explained Aron’s e-mail. “We’re asking God to help us reach them and bring them out safely.”

  “Well, I’ll be prayin’ for you,” Mac drawled. “But if those two have resisted the truth this long, I don’t hold out much hope for them. How do you know they haven’t taken Carpathia’s mark?”

  “From Aron’s e-mail, it sounds like they hate Carpathia like many of the undecided in Petra,” Sam said.

  “I hope it’s not some kind of trap,” Mac said.

  Mr. Stein asked Mac why he hadn’t stayed in Petra, and Mac smiled. “I’d get too fat eating all that manna. Plus, I’m having more fun than a coon in a cornfield flying all over the place with Albie.”

  “Who’s Albie?” Sam said.

  “Another Trib Force pilot. I moved in with him after I left the Strong Building in Chicago. We’re staying in Al Basrah now, when we aren’t flying, which is pretty much all the time. Albie’s an expert at trading on the black market.” Sam scrunched his eyebrows and Mac said, “You know, getting things without the GC knowing about it and for as little cost as possible. Albie can find just about anything if you can pay the price. That’s where this plane came from.”

  “Do you have phony identification?” Sam said.

  “Nah, after what happened in Greece, I know God’s looking out for us flyboys. He’s got things in control.”

  Sam watched the Tel Aviv skyline come into view and dialed the number Judd had given him for the man known only as Sabir. Sabir had agreed to pick up Sam and Mr. Stein at an airfield Mac and Albie used. When they landed, Mr. Stein spotted a small car at the end of the runway and Mac slowed the engines. “Should be fine from here. Check with Chang when you want to head back to Petra.”

  Sam and Mr. Stein thanked Mac and made their way through a chain-link fence that had been cut with wire cutters. Sabir, a short, Middle Eastern man with graying hair and glasses, welcomed them and as they drove told his story of being a former terrorist. Sam hadn’t heard about Judd and Lionel’s close call with the GC in Jerusalem, and he was thrilled at Sabir’s version of the story. Sabir’s wife had flown to Petra, and he handed Sam a note to give to her when Sam returned.

  As they drove toward Tel Aviv, Sabir gave tips for avoiding the GC. Both Sam and Mr. Stein had hats on and wore long-sleeved shirts so no one could tell they didn’t have the mark of Carpathia.

  “Why don’t you come back to Petra with us after we are through here?” Mr. Stein said as Sabir stopped the car in an alley. “You can take the message to your wife yourself.” “I would like that very much, but so far God hasn’t given me peace about leaving. Just the other day I woke up from a sound sleep and felt urged to get in my car. I started it and sat behind the wheel for a good five minutes asking God where I should go.

  “I heard no voices, no signs from the sky, so I started driving. A half hour later I was in front of a darkened storefront. I stopped at the curb to get my bearings and saw movement inside. Three people walked out a door and scurried into the night. Something told me I should follow, and I did, with my lights off.

  “When they discovered I was there, they began to run. I got out and said, ‘In the name of Jesus, stop!’ All three stopped dead in their tracks. They turned and walked toward me, and when I turned on my headlights I saw all three had the mark of the believer.”

  “What were they doing there?” Sam said.

  “Hiding. They had not taken the mark of Carpathia and had just become believers a few days earlier. Some people had discovered their hiding place, and they were afraid the GC was coming the next morning. I got them to a safe place before the sun rose.”

  Mr. Stein patted Sabir’s arm. “God has you where he wants you for now, but if you feel in danger, please let us know.”

  Sabir gave Sam and Mr. Stein final directions and drove away. The sun had set as the two walked through alleys and narrow walkways. A poster caught Sam’s eye, and he stopped to examine it. “See the Miraculous Power of Orcus!” The poster gave the date and time, and Sam realized the performance would be that very night.

  “I don’t like the looks of that,” Mr. Stein said, glancing at his watch. “Come on, we only have a few minutes.”

  Sam was shocked at the difference between the safety he felt in Petra and the evil he sensed in Tel Aviv. The few people they saw in darkened alleys and walkways moved with heads down, fear etched on their faces.

  When they reached the meeting place, a public park, Sam and Mr. Stein waited until the correct time and gingerly moved into the open. A block away a stage had been set up with lasers flashing and music blaring. Sam guessed that Aron Ben-Eliezar had picked this place because of the crowds. It would be easier to blend in with thousands than to meet in a private place.

  Mr. Stein motioned toward a small fountain, and they sat on a bench, studying the growing mob swarming toward the stage. In the distance, young people whooped and
hollered, chanting Carpathia’s name and falling in front of a statue suspended above the crowd.

  “Aron should be here by now,” Sam whispered.

  Something beeped to Sam’s right, and he noticed a small mound covered by leaves and grass. Sam shoved the debris away and found a walkie-talkie on the ground.

  “Okay, pick up the radio and move to your right,” a scratchy voice said.

  Sam picked up the walkie-talkie and walked toward the street with Mr. Stein. Hundreds made their way toward the stage, and Sam pulled his hat low and tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

  “Stop there,” the voice said when they reached the edge of the sidewalk. “Look up.”

  Sam tilted his head and saw a curtain flutter on the third floor of the building in front of them. “Go to the back entrance and take the stairs. Don’t let anyone see you come in.”

  Sam and Mr. Stein followed the directions. The stairwell had a huge crack in the wall, and plaster was falling onto the steps. When they entered a hallway, a door opened at the other end. Mr. Stein whispered a prayer as they walked toward the open door. Once inside, the door closed and a thin man with a beard stepped forward. He had a bandage on his forehead, but there was no mark of Carpathia on his right hand.

  Sam introduced himself and Mr. Stein, and the man stared at them. “I didn’t know you were a kid.” The man looked at Mr. Stein. “You really know my parents are safe in Petra?”

  “Rabbi Ben-Eliezar accompanied us to Masada before going on to Petra,” Mr. Stein said. “We have not told them we made contact with you. Are you Aron or Joel?”

  “Joel.”

  “Where is your brother?”

  Joel moved to the front window and opened the curtain a few inches. “Don’t worry about him. Tell me about my parents.”

  Mr. Stein told him how he had met the Ben-Eliezars, their concern about their sons, and how they had tried repeatedly to contact them. Joel bit his lip as he listened, his eyes turning to the window.

  When Mr. Stein carefully described how they had believed in the message about Jesus, Joel shook his head. “That is the part I can’t accept.”

  “It is true. It is why we have come all this way at such personal risk. We want to tell you the truth about God.”

  Joel rolled his eyes. “I have no need to believe in God. There is a scientific explanation for all the questions we have.”

  “Even with everything that’s happened?” Sam said. “The disappearances, the earthquake, the—”

  “People believe in God because they’ve been told to. They have an emotional attachment to their faith because it helps them get through. It helps them deal with their pain. I rely on myself and hard work. If a crisis comes, like an earthquake or another natural disaster, I try harder.”

  “And what if all your efforts are striving after wind?” Mr. Stein said. “What if you come to the end and find you cannot try harder?”

  Joel glared at Mr. Stein. “The only comfort we have in life is to know we have done something worthwhile. We’ve tried to think independently and struggled to improve the world.”

  “What happens after you die?” Sam said.

  “Nothing. It’s over. You get one chance to make a difference and that’s it.”

  “With everything going on in the world, and with Nicolae executing people without his mark,” Mr. Stein said, “does it not make you consider placing your faith in the true God?”

  “I have faith in myself that I can improve the world. Outside of that, I have no use for faith.”

  The door opened and a man who looked slightly younger than Joel came in, breathless. “It’s about to start.”

  Joel introduced his brother, and Aron shook hands with Mr. Stein and Sam. Sam studied his face and hand and didn’t see any sign of Carpathia’s mark. Mr. Stein repeated the information about his parents, but Joel stopped him. “I want to see how they begin this. Go in the next room.”

  The window of the shabby apartment faced the stage. Joel grabbed binoculars and watched the introduction of guests as Sam and Mr. Stein went into the bedroom with Aron.

  Aron paced as Mr. Stein and Sam sat. “My parents are all right?” he said.

  Sam nodded. “Why haven’t you answered them?”

  “Things have been happening. I came to live with my brother here in Tel Aviv shortly after the Global Community went after those people in the desert. We have tried to exist since then, but my brother, he is not well… .”

  “Are you open to hearing the truth we have discovered?” Mr. Stein said.

  “Perhaps,” Aron said. He turned and leaned against the wall. “Ever since Joel took the mark, he has regretted the decision.”

  Mr. Stein stood. “He took the mark of Carpathia?”

  “Yes, though he didn’t worship the image.”

  “Listen to me carefully,” Mr. Stein said. “Your soul is at stake. Your brother has made a decision he will regret for eternity. Why haven’t you taken the mark?”

  “I was hungry. You need it to buy anything. But something seemed wrong about it—not just taking an identification number, but actually identifying yourself with Carpathia.”

  “You were right not to take it. Now let me tell you why.”

  Mr. Stein began with an overview of how sin began in the perfect world God had created. The evil one tempted humans, and they chose against God’s way. “Throughout the Bible, Satan has opposed God. Now, in these last days, Satan is trying to destroy, just like he has always done. Nicolae Carpathia is the ultimate evil and will stop at nothing to thwart God’s plan for good.”

  “What is that plan?” Aron said.

  “To save people from their sins. God sent his own Son to die as a sacrifice for you and me. If we put our trust in Jesus, the Messiah, and ask him to forgive us from our sins, God will do that. Those who were taken in the disappearances, like your sister, Meira, were ones who believed the truth about Jesus. But there is still time to choose—”

  “Come and see this,” Joel yelled from the next room. “Hurry!”

  Sam rushed to the front window and squinted. In the distance a huge monitor showed two men wielding swords that were as long as Sam was tall. The fight seemed staged, but the sound of the steel blades striking each other was real. Finally, one of the men ducked and made a move to his left, avoiding the razor-sharp blade by inches, and struck a blow to the other man’s right arm. The crowd gasped as the first man staggered, his severed arm dropping to the stage with a sickening thud.

  Blood gushed from the wound, and people near the stage fell back, screaming. The injured man’s sword fell, and he slipped to his knees, trying to stop the fatal flow of blood. His opponent held up his sword with both hands and the crowd cheered, encouraging him to finish the injured man.

  “It’s like watching the Roman gladiators,” Sam muttered.

  Suddenly a curtain parted, and a man stepped forward. He wore normal-looking clothes, and his hair reached his shoulders. Sam noticed his eyes, which seemed to bore into the man with the severed arm. The long-haired man stooped and picked up the limb from the stage.

  The crowd hushed. The hero worship for the winner turned to silence as the man placed the severed arm back in place, grasped it with both hands at the point of the injury, and said, “I have been given power by the potentate. Therefore, under the authority of the risen lord, Nicolae Carpathia, I pronounce this wound healed.”

  The injured man lifted his once-severed arm and raised a bloody fist above his head. “It’s back! He healed my arm!”

  6

  DID they do that with mirrors?” Sam said, his mouth still open at what he had just seen.

  “It has to be a trick,” Aron said.

  Mr. Stein shook his head. “It is real power, but not the power of God. It is the power of the evil one.”

  Joel raised an eyebrow. “You mean Bible hocus-pocus?”

  “Do not be deceived. You’re seeing Scripture come to life. Leon Fortunato calls down fire from heaven by the po
wer of Nicolae. This faker may attempt other miracles tonight to mock God.”

  The man with the healed arm picked up his sword and raised it in triumph with his new arm. People near the stage fell to their knees and worshiped the miracle worker.

  “Do not praise me, for I am only one sent by god,” Orcus said as he pointed to the statue of Nicolae. “I am simply his servant. Turn your affection to the one who has the power of life and death and who lives to serve you.”

  “Praise lord Carpathia!” the healed man said.

  “Praise him!” the crowd shouted.

  Smoke billowed from the image hovering over the crowd, and everyone lay down before it. Muffled praise rose from the people, and some began singing “Hail Carpathia.”

  When Orcus raised a hand, everyone quieted. “Your praise has been heard, and I assure you, lord Carpathia appreciates your reverence tonight. And to show you how much he loves you—” he swept his hand forward—“let there be light!”

  A great flash of white light bathed the audience. Instead of night, it seemed like day. Sam shielded his eyes and studied the lasers backstage. The light wasn’t coming from them but from overhead.

  Joel rubbed his forehead so hard that the bandage came off. Sam saw the mark of Carpathia beside scratches and blotched skin. “I’ve tried to get this off with sandpaper, even tried to cut the skin. But maybe Orcus is right. If he can do these things by the power of Nicolae …”

  “I need to talk to you now,” Mr. Stein whispered to Aron.

  Sam followed and Mr. Stein closed the door. “Your father and mother did not want to believe what I told them about God. But after I explained what the Bible says and they heard Dr. Ben-Judah, their eyes were opened. They understood God wanted a relationship with them and that the only way to escape the judgment coming upon this world was to receive the gift of Jesus Christ.”

  Aron sat and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve wanted these past three years to be a bad dream. When you wrote, I thought you were mistaken. My parents could never turn their backs on their Jewish faith—”