Arrived

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  Judd walked away as the man cursed God, chewed his tongue, and smacked his head against the brick wall. Judd stepped over bodies and went inside the restaurant. Some people had been inside when the plague of darkness hit, and they were still moaning and wailing on the floor, under tables, and lying on booths.

  Judd found Gunther and the others in the kitchen, cooking meat on the grill. The cook lay in the back, not moving. Some people had crawled inside the back door searching for food. One man near the grill had burned both his hands, not seeing the fire.

  While Gunther cooked the meat, Judd and Westin gathered bread and drinks and headed for the car. Judd looked for the young man by the wall, but he had moved away.

  When they were all inside the car, Judd tore off a piece of French bread and grabbed one of the still-sizzling pieces of meat from Gunther. The smell of the food made Judd’s mouth water.

  Gunther put the car in gear, and they rolled over something. At first Judd thought they had been too close to the curb, but when he looked through the back window, he saw the young man lying on the street. He had crawled under the tires and now lay lifeless on the road.

  Everywhere they drove, Judd heard howls from people in pain. It seemed to be getting worse by the hour. When people heard the car’s engine, they ran into the street, reaching out like blind zombies, trying anything to relieve their pain. Judd hated ignoring them, but what could they do? These people had chosen against God and were now paying the price.

  Judd wondered what it was about the darkness that made things so much worse. Simply turning out the lights on the world was one thing, but there was something supernatural about this that caused people enough pain to want to kill themselves.

  The car stopped a half hour later in front of a guard hut. Judd couldn’t see the building inside, but security fences with razor wire on top ran as far as he could see.

  “I can’t guarantee your safety in there,” Gunther said.

  “No way I’m missing this,” Westin said.

  “Me either,” Judd said.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Gunther pulled up to the gate and opened his door. Someone inside the guard shack yelled, “Halt! Who goes there?”

  Gunther didn’t respond but went into a crouch and stuck his head into the doorway.

  “Identify yourself or I’ll shoot!” the guard said.

  Gunther waved at Westin, and the pilot got out and went to the front of the car. “Why would you want to shoot—?”

  Blam!

  The gun’s explosion sent Westin to the ground. The guard hobbled out of the shack like a drunken man, waving the gun and threatening to shoot again. With a swift movement, Gunther jumped, kicked, and the gun clattered on concrete.

  The guard screamed in pain and fell in a heap. “Who are you? What do you want here?”

  Judd got out as Gunther stepped toward the guard and said, “Where are the rebels you’re holding?”

  The guard’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Right,” Gunther said, picking up the gun. He walked into the shack and flipped a lever, opening the gate.

  “You can see?” the guard said.

  “Do you want me to shoot you?” Gunther said.

  A wide grin spread across the man’s face. “Yes. I’d like that. Please go ahead.”

  Gunther frowned and looked at Judd. “Help me tie him up. We’ll find them ourselves.”

  7

  JUDD followed the others through the fence and toward a huge building. The stone structure had survived the heat wave, and by the numbers of burned-out cars nearby, Judd guessed some had survived the heat by running inside.

  They met two guards at the front entrance who were writhing on the floor, scratching their bodies, and moaning in pain. Instead of tying or cuffing them, Gunther and Westin retrieved their guns and proceeded down the hall.

  “How are we ever going to find where they’re holding the prisoners?” Westin said.

  Gunther placed a finger to his lips and pointed at a female guard with her head on a desk at the end of the hall. As they approached, the woman sat up and looked wildly in their direction. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s all right, Sergeant. Don’t be afraid.”

  “How can you see me?”

  Gunther ignored the question. “We come on a mission from the potentate. There have been several rebels arrested in the past few days. They are awaiting transport?”

  The woman grimaced and grabbed the back of her neck in pain. “Most of them were taken yesterday. There are seven left in the holding cell downstairs.”

  “I would like to see them.”

  “You have to have authorization. I don’t even know who you are.”

  “Believe me, this request comes from the highest levels—from the potentate himself.” Paper rattled and Gunther handed the sergeant something.

  “I can’t see this,” she said. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “I could have disarmed you the moment I came in. You must trust me. Now if you will point me in the right direction—”

  “I don’t know which direction the stairs are. I’m all turned around.”

  “Hand me your key card and I’ll let myself in.”

  “I’m not supposed to give that to anyone,” she said.

  “We both agree—these are extraordinary circumstances,” Gunther said. “I’ll be back.”

  The woman hesitated, then took off her plastic card and held it out.

  Gunther motioned Judd and the others toward the stairwell, and they crept along as quietly as possible.

  “What are you going to do to those prisoners?” she said. “They’re just Jews.”

  “I want to talk with them. To see if I can’t persuade them to come over to our way of thinking.”

  As Judd reached the door, the woman tilted her head and scratched her neck. “If you ask me, we should just kill them now and get it over. They’re going to die one way or another.”

  “Yes, thank you for that advice.”

  “Wait. Does the potentate know when this darkness will stop?”

  “We don’t know when things will return to normal, but you can be sure the potentate only has your best interests at heart.” Gunther walked toward the door and inserted the card.

  Going down the stairs was like walking through a dense cloud. After going through several doors and walking down a narrow hallway, Judd pointed to his right, toward a series of cells. At the end was a large cell Judd thought would hold at least a hundred prisoners. Only seven men lay on cots or on the floor. Judd looked for the mark of the believer but saw none. But only three of the men had the mark of Carpathia.

  “When will you turn on the lights?” a man yelled. “This is cruel and unusual.”

  The others in the cell shouted at the man to be quiet.

  Gunther spoke calmly and without emotion. “Gentlemen, we are not with the Global Community. We represent the true potentate of the universe.”

  “Were you the ones who turned out the lights?” a younger man said.

  “No. In fact we were about to be arrested by Peacekeepers when this plague of darkness began. God has enabled us to see, while those without his protection cannot.”

  “I am a religious man,” another said. “Why would God give you special treatment?”

  Another man grabbed the cell bars and pulled himself up. He had scratch marks about his face and neck. “Stop all this talking and let us out. You know what the GC will do to us if we’re kept here.”

  Gunther asked Westin to find out how to release the cell door, then pulled a chair close to the cell. The men inside grew impatient. One with long hair stayed back, wary of Gunther’s voice.

  “How do we know you’re not the GC with more of your tricks?” Longhair said.

  “We come in the name of the Prince of Peace, the King of kings, the one who was called the Light of the World.”

  “Who is this light?” a bearded man sa
id. “And when can he come down here?”

  Gunther chuckled. “I will tell you about this light. In the beginning the Word already existed. He was with God, and he was God. He was in the beginning with God. He created everything there is. Nothing exists that he didn’t make. Life itself was in him, and this life gives light to everyone. The light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.”

  “Don’t talk to us of light and life when we are locked away in darkness so thick you can taste it,” a man said.

  Others shushed him and asked Gunther to continue. “We come on behalf of this light to ask you to gain true freedom, true sight. There is a reason why we can see—”

  “You can’t see any more than we can.”

  “Then how can I tell you’re wearing a pendant around your neck? And that your hair is down to your shoulders—and you’re closing your eyes—no, opening.”

  “None of us can see. Do you have special glasses or something?”

  The man at the back stood. “Let us out of here and we’ll listen to you.”

  “Soon,” Gunther said. “But first let me tell you that the one who sent us made the world, but when he came, the world didn’t recognize him. Even in his own land and among his own people, he was not accepted. But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn! This is not a physical birth—this rebirth comes from God.”

  “I’ve heard these words before from that traitor Tsion Ben-Judah,” the bearded man said. “It was his fault the Global Community came after us in the first place.”

  The cell door began to move, and the men jumped to their feet. Westin came back as the men groped toward the opening, falling over cots and each other.

  “We can show you the true light,” Gunther said while the men poured out of the cell. “If you don’t receive this gift God is offering, you are destined to live in darkness forever.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” the bearded man said.

  The three with the mark of Carpathia left immediately. The four others held out their hands, searching for a wall or anything that could guide them.

  A young man stopped near Gunther and Judd. “You say there’s a way for us to see, even in this blackness?”

  Judd touched Gunther’s arm. “Can I talk to him?”

  Gunther smiled and nodded.

  “My name’s Judd. Put out your hand.” The man did and Judd shook it. “I’ll lead you out of here. We’ll talk outside.”

  As they went through the hallways and up the stairs, Judd learned the man’s name was Zvi Zeidman.

  “When the mark of Carpathia came, I went underground with some friends,” Zvi said. “We could sense hostility toward Israelis. When the heat wave hit, others joined us, but someone gave us up for the reward.”

  Judd paused at the top of the stairs and noticed the female guard was not at her post. They walked to the front of the building and heard gunfire. The few guards left were hunkered down, firing at any noise.

  “It’ll be best to stay here until they run out of ammunition,” Judd said. He found an open office and sat Zvi on a cushioned chair.

  “I don’t know why I feel better having someone who can see,” Zvi said. “In the cell I had started to itch and get a tremendous headache.”

  Judd got the man some water and sat behind the desk. Though Zvi was in his twenties, he looked much older and had dark, curly hair and deep-set eyes.

  Zvi put his head back. “How can you see?”

  “I don’t see fully,” Judd said. “Everything’s kind of brown. But I can see this computer screen and …” Judd studied the screen closely. He clicked on an e-mail message and pulled it up.

  “What is it?” Zvi said.

  “This office must belong to one of the prison directors.”

  About halfway into the message Judd spotted an interesting paragraph.

  Regarding the latest Jewish camp on the Island, I wish to relate good news. The transport you sent arrived fine with only two dead prisoners. We have experienced great success in keeping the inmates alive and, at the same time, miserable. The camp doctor has come up with a concoction that we have to feed only once a day, and it sustains the prisoners for twenty-four hours.

  Judd read on, discovering this mysterious “Island” had more than two thousand housed there. A chill ran down his back. He wondered if the camp was under the plague of darkness, and if so, what people were doing.

  “What are you reading?” Zvi said.

  “Have you heard of the Island?”

  “Yes. It’s on the Tigris. I have heard horror stories of Jews being taken there. I’m not sure which is worse, being taken to the Island or facing the guillotine. At least with the blade, the suffering is over.”

  “What else have you heard about the camps?” Judd said.

  Zvi put his hands behind his head and leaned back. “It’s worse than the Nazis in the 1930s and 1940s. The GC torture their prisoners to the point of death but don’t allow them the decency of dying. I’ve even heard they take videos of the beatings and torture and send them to Carpathia.”

  Judd shook his head. He wished he could do something for people on the Island, but he decided he had to focus on Zvi. Random gunfire echoed through the hallway, and Judd moved closer. “You don’t have to stay in the dark. God can open your eyes.”

  “You going to preach now? Like that guy did back in the cell?”

  “We’ve risked our lives to come here because we thought there might still be someone who needed to accept God’s forgiveness.”

  Zvi rolled his eyes and bit his lip, then seemed to remember that Judd could see his face. He put his head in his hands.

  Judd paused, then continued. “Before I found out about God, I used to hate it when people would preach or act like they knew something I didn’t. I don’t want to come across that way. There was a time when I felt really nervous about talking about God, and I tried to figure out all kinds of ways to convince people without making them feel bad.”

  “And what do you do now?”

  “The world’s gone so crazy that there’s no time to tiptoe. I just lay it out before people as plainly as I can and let them make their decision.”

  “Okay, so lay it out.”

  “Basically, God loves you and wants you to be his child. He wants to adopt you into his family, but he won’t do that unless you want to be a part of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “God’s perfect. He can’t allow anything near him that’s imperfect. And you and I are both sinful. We’ve done bad things.”

  “I’ve been taught since I was young that the path to God was through obeying his commands.”

  “True, but you know as well as I do that you haven’t lived up to every command. And if you break even one, you’re out of the program. That’s why God had to provide a sacrifice, so we could be forgiven.”

  “This is the part where you tell me about Jesus, how he is the Messiah, and if I’ll just get baptized or pray some prayer—”

  “Zvi, have you ever considered the possibility that you’ve been living in darkness your whole life? Do you know God’s peace, feel his forgiveness, his love?”

  “You can’t know those things in this life.”

  “Yes, you can. Again, I’m not trying to preach, and this is your decision, but God is real and he wants to come into your life right now and make a difference. He wants to show you mercy, but you have to accept it. I’ve met a lot of people in the past few years who’ve been raised exactly like you, and when they see the truth, they can’t believe they were blind to it for so long.”

  Zvi sighed. “And you guarantee relief from the darkness?”

  Judd smiled. “It’s one of the perks. Back when the stinging locusts came—” Judd stopped as someone approached in the hall.

  “I heard you talking,” a woman said. A gun clicked. “Tell me where you are! Come out now or I’ll shoot!”

  8


  JUDD sat still as the female guard stumbled down the hall, her gun held in the air, the other hand out to guide her. Judd leaned close to Zvi and whispered, “Don’t make a sound.” But when Judd leaned back, the chair squeaked.

  The woman pointed the gun at him. “I heard that! Come out of the director’s office, hands up!”

  Judd studied the angle of the gun. She was aiming about three feet over their heads. He thought of rushing the woman or hiding behind the desk, but neither of the options seemed good.

  Judd turned and picked up a beautiful glass paperweight from the desk. The delicate piece was about the size of a baseball and had been created in the likeness of Nicolae Carpathia. Judd carefully brought the object behind his head and threw it over the woman’s head. It crashed against the wall, shattering into a million pieces.

  The woman screamed and turned, firing at the wall. The bullet pinged through the hallway. Judd jumped up, lunged for the door, and slammed it. He turned the lock and dived for the ground as another bullet punctured the wall above his head. Judd hit the floor and pulled Zvi down with him.

  Zvi was panicking now, breathing heavily and shaking. “A friend told me he saw a man appear at one of the mass beheadings of Judah-ites. Right out of thin air. He wasn’t there, and then he was. Do you think that was from God?”

  “What did the man say?”

  “He talked about God’s forgiveness, like you.”

  “I’ve seen angels do the same thing,” Judd said. “They come as God’s messengers to warn people about not taking Carpathia’s mark. And they plead with the undecided to choose Christ. It’s another display of God’s love.”

  “I won’t take Carpathia’s mark.”

  “It’s not enough to be against Nicolae. Jesus said those who are not for him are against him. That puts you in some pretty awful company.”

  Judd could tell by the look on Zvi’s face that there was a fierce battle raging. He had seen the same look many times before. Those who rejected Christ seldom struggled like this. They simply threw their hands in the air and walked away. But Zvi was different.

  The woman outside cried and moaned. The gun clicked over and over. Judd opened the door to find her lying on the floor, her face buried in her arms. She had pointed the gun at her head and was pulling the trigger.