Survivors

by Dave Mckay

  How hard it was to believe that the future held pain and suffering in store for the world, which would make the significance of the fall of America shrink by comparison!

  "Use it! Use it!" Chaim had written in a list of instructions on how they should use their time during this period of apparent world peace. "But don't for a minute believe that it is genuine," he warned.

  Chaim and Rayford both believed the authorities must have taken notice of their little movement by now, and they knew that it would just be a matter of time before the axe would fall.

  A prophetic promise about God's people being given "the wings of an eagle," in order to escape the coming persecution, had stumped both of them. It obviously was poetic. They did not expect to sprout literal wings. But even if they had succeeded in gathering enough aircraft to fly themselves somewhere, they did not know of any place on earth where they could hide from the technology that would be available to the government to hunt them down.

  Air travel itself was becoming increasingly more difficult, both because of the need for a Mark to purchase a ticket, and because of the number of authorities and regulations governing it.

  Some Bible experts had taught that the place of hiding would be in Petra, a city carved out of solid rock, in Jordan. But it would hardly be impenetrable against modern technology, and if it was to have been secret, that cover had been blown by all the commentators who had announced it as the secret place in their writings.

  Scripture called the place of refuge, "the wilderness", or "a desolate place", but neither of the two leaders could say where it would be. For the time being, they urged members of the movement to just maintain a low profile in their own localities, and to take comfort in the Rock of Ages, and in his teachings, which the Bible promised would be like a solid rock, protecting them from the coming "floods" and "storms". (Matthew 7:24-25)

  Neville was joined by other computer experts who had become part of the Twelve Tribes, and together they had devised a series of satellite relays for their website which would make it difficult to track them down. But they still knew that it would only be a matter of time before that important link of communication would also be cut off.

  * * *

  It was less than three years since the Temple had been opened in Jerusalem. Half a dozen high level security experts were gathered in semi-darkness, around a series of sophisticated computers and other hardware in an office in Moscow, on a Monday evening in late June. Other office staff had gone home for the night.

  One of the experts, a big man named Sergei, broke the silence as they all stood staring at the screen on one particular computer, obviously waiting for something to happen. "Any of you guys ever visit the site yourselves?" he asked innocently, in an effort to ease the boredom.

  The others looked at each other, hesitant about answering. Sergei guessed that he had asked an embarrassing question, but he tried to patch the matter up with further talk.

  "It's ridiculous, really. They think people can live without money. They say the implant comes from the Devil." And Sergei laughed nervously.

  Still no response. The others turned and looked at Sergei, as though waiting for him to say more.

  "I...I only checked it out because my son told me about it," he said defensively. But that put him in even deeper. Eyebrows raised, and Sergei's heart sank as he realised what he had done to his son by trying to excuse himself.

  "Well, he didn't really... I mean..." he began, not certain how he would finish the sentence.

  "There it is!" shouted one of the officers, whose eyes had returned to the monitor. Sergei, and his son, had been spared, at least for the moment.

  "It's in England. West London!"

  The men had succeeded in tracking down Rayford Strait's internet provider.

  "We'll pull the plug on these traitors now!" said an older man, who appeared to be in charge. "But first we need to find out who's behind it. Oleg, get London on the phone!"

  * * *

  The staff at Web Wonders, in Clapham Junction, were just finishing up for the night, when it happened. The explosion came not from within, but from above, a powerful laser that cut straight through the building, and then exploded outward, totally reducing every thing and every one in that building to a pile of ashes, while, at the same time, leaving neighbouring buildings with little more than scorch marks on their walls. Web Wonders and all of their staff no longer existed.

  The Great Tribulation was about to begin.

  Zion Ben-Jonah Writes:

  Many Bible commentators talk of seven years of great tribulation just before Jesus returns. But The Revelation is clear about there being two distinct halves to the final seven years. They are variously described as three and a half years, 42 months, or 1260 days. (Revelation 11:2-3, 12:6 & 14, 13:5, and Daniel 7:25, 9:27) It is only the second three and a half year period that is full of great trouble. The first half is what we call "the plastic peace".

  While many have pointed to wars as the sign that the end of the world is near, Jesus actually said that wars are a sign that it is not near (Matthew 24:6). Rather, the scriptures warn that the Antichrist will gain spiritual control of the world through 'peace', or in some translations, through 'prosperity' (Daniel 8:23-25). The Apostle Paul, writing about the endtime, warned that 'sudden destruction' would follow a time when everyone was saying "Peace! Peace!" (I Thess­alonians 5:3)

  The Revelation also talks about an army of 144,000 faithful followers of the Lamb (Revelation 7:2-4, and 14:1-12), at the same time that it mentions a "great multitude which no one could number." (Revelation 7:9-17) This multitude is, in some way, brought to God during the period of Great Tribulation. Some believers are miraculously protected at that time (Revelation 12:14), but others are slaughtered in great numbers (Revelation 13:7). A puzzling paradox!

  (Table of Contents)

  BOOK THREE

  15. Assassins?

  "I'd do it. No fear! I'd do it for God."

  Neville was sharing his thoughts on an email which had arrived the day before from Mike, in Ankara. Mike said that the team in Jerusalem had passed within a hundred metres of Dangchao on a couple of occasions while doing business in the city. He said that security for the U.N. Secretary General was not what they had expected.

  "He has guards with him," Mike wrote. "But if someone was prepared to rush him wearing a suicide bomb, I don't think they could stop him."

  Mike's comments had sparked a debate at the Guildford headquarters about whether it would be morally right, knowing what they knew about Dangchao, to consider assassinating him.

  "It's not like he's human," Neville explained. "If he's really the Devil, then what would be so wrong with killing him?"

  Rayford was not there, but Irene was the first to question his logic. "What if he is human?" she asked. "And more than that, what if he is the very good person that most of the world thinks he is?" All of the others looked at Irene in shock. Had she been deceived? Could she seriously be speaking in defence of the Antichrist?

  "I'm not saying he won't eventually become the devil incarnate," she said. "But look at what he's done so far. He's brought the people together in the greatest show of solidarity that the world has ever known. He's helped the Third World in a way that no one else has ever been able to do. He has promoted a degree of religious tolerance which has even benefitted us." The raised eyebrows were starting up once again, so Irene raced to make her point.

  "What I'm saying is that he could be doing all these apparently good things for evil motives..." and then she paused. "…or he could be genuinely trying to do the right thing even at this very moment, only to be possessed by the devil at some later time. Is our war with Xu Dangchao the man, or is it with the devil who we believe will use Dangchao's body at some time in the future?"

  Matthew, as official judge for the Tribe of Joseph, was the first to support Irene's theory.

  "We don't really know that D
angchao isn't just as human, or as good as you or me at the moment," he noted. "But even if he is evil, we're pacifists!"

  The comment was significant, coming, as it was, from a former Baptist, who had always believed armies could be used to enforce the will of God. But that was before he had met the Jesans.

  "Christians don't kill their enemies," Matthew reminded the others. "And that includes even our worst possible enemy… the Antichrist himself. Vengeance is God's business, and not ours. If we've understood the Bible correctly, Dangchao will get a deadly wound eventually. Maybe that's when the devil comes into him. And maybe he's as innocent as you and me at the moment."

  "Maybe we could be the ones to give him the deadly wound," suggested Neville. "We're supposed to fight for God at Armageddon. So if we can kill people for God then, why not now?"

  "If you can kill Dangchao just by speaking a word, then go ahead," Matthew taunted. "But remember, Neville, that our weapon even at Armageddon is supposed to come out of our mouths. Our weapon is the truth... nothing more and nothing less. Do you understand?"

  Mary, and Elaine listened intently, but said nothing. They were from the old school, where women listened submissively, in silence.

  "Where do you suppose all the wars come from?" asked Matthew, pursuing his point a bit further.

  "From greedy governments, fighting over oil and other wealth," Neville answered wisely. He had studied Rayford's teachings on the subject.

  "Okay. True." That wasn't the answer Matthew had been looking for, so he offered it himself. "But they always get the soldiers to fight by demonising the opposition," he said. "If you can believe your opponent is sub-human, then you can feel justified in doing almost anything to him. But God doesn't work like that, Neville. He has his own ways of dealing with opponents."

  The discussion ended abruptly when Rayford walked in with a newspaper in his hand.

  "Heard the news?" he asked.

  Of course they hadn't, since it was Rayford's job to check headlines on a free paper at a local fast food restaurant each morning, and then report back to them if there was anything worth studying. But they sometimes tuned in to the BBC on the radio, and he was just checking on that before he spoke.

  He tossed the paper down on the coffee table, where they could all see the eight-column headline:

  "Dangchao Killed".

  The report described how Dangchao had been shot by a spectator, while inspecting progress on a huge statue of Mary, the Queen of Heaven, that was being constructed in front of the Cathedral of the Divine Creation in Jerusalem. A bullet had pierced his heart, and another had entered his head.

  "He was dead on arrival at Hadassah University Hospital," a spokesperson for the hospital had declared.

  The news report discussed the identity and background of the assassin, who was killed by security men moments after the attack. It also speculated about who would take Dangchao's place. Tributes were rolling in from world leaders, who hailed Dangchao as one of the greatest leaders, if not the greatest leader, the world had ever known.

  "Does that answer your question?" Matthew asked Neville, when they had recovered from the initial shock of the news. "If God wants someone bumped off, he can do it himself, without interference from you or me."

  "So now what happens?" asked Neville. "Is he going to come back to life?"

  "He will if he's the Antichrist," said Rayford. "We just have to wait. In the meantime, we need to pray about what we're supposed to be doing. Today marks 1,260 days since the agreement was signed."

  The group spent all that morning in prayer and in serious discussion about where things were heading. They did not get any clear leading, and nothing seemed to be particularly different about the world around them. Had Rayford miscalculated?

  They collected email from the other bases, and there was nothing significant happening there either.

  Irene had business to tend to in London, so she had caught the train into the city around lunch time. Late in the afternoon, she returned to the flat with a look of bewilderment on her face.

  "Did you pick up email this morning?" she asked Rayford excitedly.

  "Yeah. Why?" he responded.

  "Have you picked it up since then?" she went on.

  "About an hour ago, I sent some stuff to Chaim and did a pick-up then," he answered. "Why?"

  Rayford's concern was not with Irene's question. It was with the sense of urgency in how she asked it.

  "And did you have any problems?" she continued.

  "What's this all about?" Rayford asked. "Is something wrong?"

  Irene explained. "I stopped by Web Wonders, to make a payment on our account. There were police everywhere, but no Web Wonders."

  "What do you mean, no Web Wonders?" Rayford asked.

  "Nothing," said Irene. "No staff, no office, no building. Just a burnt out, empty block, with a lot of ashes and melted bricks."

  "That's impossible. Are you sure you had the right place?" Rayford asked, as he moved toward the computer to try his email account once again.

  "Sure I'm sure," said Irene. "I go there every month."

  Neville had selected the tiny service provider because it was one of the few servers in the London area that still accepted cash. Irene could update their account by adding to their credit balance at the start of each month.

  Rayford hit the right button to collect his email. "It's dialling up," he said, as they gathered around the computer, and listened to the familiar pattern of beeps.

  "It's answering," Irene whispered in amazement. They listened as the screeks and squawks indicated that their computer was actually talking to Web Wonders' mainframe.

  "Do they have another office somewhere?" Rayford asked.

  "Not that I know of," Irene replied. "Mike's the owner, and he works there in the Clapham Junction office. I've never heard mention of any other office."

  Just then, Neville drew their attention to the computer, which was now picking up their mail from the non-existent service provider!

  "Look here!" he said, tapping the screen.

  The program indicated that Rayford had more than 200 letters coming into his in-box.

  "I just checked my box an hour ago!" Rayford exclaimed. "We've never had anywhere near that many, not even during the first six months." He was referring to the revival that they had experienced just after the Temple agreement had been signed.

  "They're real too!" Neville explained. He caught glimpses of individual addresses flashing on the screen as each letter dropped into Rayford's in-box.

  "But where are they coming from?" Rayford asked. "And what happened to Web Wonders? Do you think the authorities are on to us?"

  The questions were rhetorical of course. No one in that room had any answers.

  It took nearly half an hour to collect all of the mail, and while that was happening, Neville was considering how they could handle such large amounts of mail in future, if it continued to come in at that rate.

  Rayford, on the other hand, was wondering whether they should run. According to all of their calculations, the Great Tribulation had begun. It was time for them to flee into the "wilderness". Whatever it was that had happened at Web Wonders, it was more than likely an indication that the authorities were on to them.

  But where should they go? Where were the magic wings that would enable them to fly away from trouble? Or could it be that they were about to be captured? Had his ministry come to an end?

  If it was going to end so soon, Rayford was determined to go down fighting, not with guns, but with the truth. There was much that had been shared only amongst tribal members over the past three and a half years. But now it was time to broadcast it to the rest of the world... if he could still be heard.

  Late that night, he sat in front of the computer, typing. He let loose with a broadside that left no doubt about what he believed about Levi Xu Dangchao and his world government. Rayford explained a
bout the number value of Dangchao's name, and he predicted that the charismatic leader would be resurrected shortly, but that what people would see would not be a human being. It would be a zombie… a dead body inhabited by the Devil himself.

  He predicted that the sacrifices would cease, and that Dangchao would take control of the Temple, declaring himself to be immortal. The Pope would call on the people of the world to worship Dangchao as the Universal Messiah.

  They were extreme claims, but Rayford felt that he had very little time left, and he wanted to be as clear as possible before his arrest. It could be his last message to the world, and even if he was wrong in some of the finer details, he had to get the important point across to those whom he could influence: i.e. that Dangchao, if resurrected, would be the prophesied Antichrist. No doubt about it. He would be evil personified. Anyone who served him would be nothing short of a satanist, whether they wanted to face that fact or not.

  Rayford's one concession was to send a copy of his article to Chaim for approval before uploading it onto the site. He asked Chaim to place it on his own site, so that it would still be available, in the event that he himself was captured or met the same fate as the Web Wonders staff. Chaim suggested a few changes, which Rayford made, and then the article was uploaded.

  Neville, in the meantime, was looking at the long run. If there was another office for Web Wonders, and if mail was going to keep coming in at the rate that it was coming in at the moment, they would need some kind of an automated system of response. He started by composing a letter telling people that there was no need for them to have personal responses, that they could find all the information they needed just by checking out the website. The site would be updated daily for as long as it remained on the internet.