Seal Two

by Sara Shanning

  “In God, whose word I praise, in God I put my trust. I will not fear what mortal man can do to me,” Ashar breathed, and his spirit pushed at the darkness as he spoke the psalm and ushered in its message of hope. Suddenly the little pocket bible that had been his only friend for so many years was speaking to him. Words that he had only read were real to him as he spoke them aloud. The power, the meaning of the words gave him confidence to straighten and speak with conviction.

  (Go through and add more to the places where the Bible makes an appearance).

  “God does exist!” he exclaimed, taking a step closer to the man, wanting to somehow ease the despair he saw. “Hell exists! It’s okay to be afraid, but not to let fear conquer you. Have you never felt God calling to you while reading His Word?” He felt God’s presence now more strongly that he ever had before.

  “Did you hear the words I just spoke? They brought me peace.” Ashar repeated the words, clinging to them as he stood in a world that had changed in mere moments. Needing them.

  Beside him, Irv stood quiet and stoic. The pastor sank down on the stone steps and Ashar moved to sit beside him.

  “Haven’t you seen Him change any lives in your congregation?” he questioned.

  “People talk about it, but I always thought it was fake. The human mind creating what people need to believe in. Now…” Looking up at the smoke filling the sky, the pastor brushed back his white hair and dropped his face into his hands. “If there is a God, if everything the Bible says is true… He must despise me.”

  “No.” Ashar placed a hand on the man’s arm, tugging gently until the pastor met his eyes. “He loves you. He died for you. For your sins. Do you believe you are a sinner?” Ashar believed the words. He’d never said them out loud, but he was sure that they were true.

  A nod.

  “He’ll forgive you. That’s what He does. He waits patiently for us to choose Him. Over everything else. If we ask, He will forgive us, and if you believe that you are a sinner, that He died and rose again, for you, then He will welcome you into heaven. God despises sin, not people.”

  “What about all this?” Irv demanded angrily. “War? Death?” He was fighting what Ashar had said, even though the words were not spoken directly to him.

  Ashar looked at his friend, feeling sadness at his anger. He had taken the trauma of his past and whatever had happened, and used the pain to shut out God. “God didn’t do this, Irv. Man did. God gave us free will, because we aren’t puppets. We have to choose Him, just like we choose how to act. Someday, He’ll make all this right.”

  He had never discussed any of the words he had read with anyone, but so much of it was there, as if he had just read it. Offerings for pain.

  The pastor began to cry. “All this time. So long! I’ve wasted so much time, lied to so many people. I don’t want to go to hell. I don’t want to be afraid any more. Help me!”

  Swinging his attention back to the pastor, Ash took his hand. “Choose Him. That’s all you have to do.”

  “I do. I want to. I want Him to forgive me. I’m so sorry!” Blinking, surprise flittering across his face, the pastor’s tears stopped abruptly, and his mouth opened to let out a breath. He closed his eyes and tilted his face toward heaven. “Yes, I feel Him! He is there!” Laughter bubbled out from his mouth. Joy swept over his face. He opened his eyes, his entire face alight with his smile.

  Ashar smiled back, watching salvation. It was strange to see something so personal. He hadn’t put a lot of thought into what he believed versus what others believed, but seeing someone come to the same truth that he had found stirred a desire to see it again.

  He glanced at Irv. Now was not the time. Irv did not look receptive to what had just happened at all. Ashar turned back to the pastor.

  “Now you just have to remember all that stuff you’ve been reciting to people, huh?”

  The pastor held out the gun, barrel first. “Yes, yes I do! I don’t need this any more. You should take it.”

  Ash shook his head. “I don’t need it either. We live in the wild, we’ll be okay.” He looked at Irv. His brows were drawn together, lips pressed tight.

  “We should get to cover,” Irv said abruptly. “I’d rather not be here if more bombs start exploding.” He started walking away before pivoting and coming back. “I’ll take the gun.”

  The pastor handed it over without comment and Irv headed back in the direction they had come.

  Ashar faced the pastor. “You could come with us?”

  Shaking his head before Ash stopped speaking, the offer was declined. “I think now I have a job to do here. One I should have been doing all along.” He grasped Ashar’s hand. “I’ll be praying for you both,” he promised earnestly.

  “Thank you,” Ashar murmured fervently, and ran to catch up with his friend.

  Chapter Seven

  As they traveled back into the forest, Ashar was unsure whether to speak or stay silent. He opted for allowing Irv to make the choice. They didn’t make it far past the dense tree line before the light was gone and they were forced to bed down for the night.

  The smoke woke them, stinging their throats and nostrils. It was dark, but neither of them were sure if it was still night. A quick discussion led to the decision to find a valley that would shield them from the worst of it, and they agreed to move on in the darkness. It was dangerous, but they felt it was necessary. Using only their flashlights, they picked their way carefully through the ground cover.

  Ashar felt like a long stretch of time passed before light spread across the sky and the smoke was behind them. They had both struggled with coughing fits and had depleted their supply of water.

  The mountains had suddenly become a haven, rather than a lifestyle, Ashar realized as they refilled their water containers at a creek. He scanned the horizon. Others would come, he was certain, seeking shelter away from the burning city.

  “We can’t be helping anyone,” Irv warned, startling Ashar that his words coincided with his thoughts. A frown drew in Irv’s features, his normal carefree manner missing. It had been gone since they had looked down the highway at the fallen city.

  Ashar mimicked the look. “That isn’t you, Irv. Why wouldn’t we help those who need help? You helped me.”

  “You’re different, bro.”

  “Why?” Ashar didn’t understand the change in his friend. They’d been traveling together long enough that he knew Irv was friendly. He’d never had a problem talking to strangers they’d encountered, or passing along pieces of the wisdom he had learned during his years of living off the earth. Refusing to help anyone now felt off kilter.

  “Things will be different now. People will be different.” Irv rose, shoving his bottle into the mesh pocket on the side of his pack. He started off, following the bank of the creek. Ashar wasn’t about to let the conversation go.

  “Yeah, people will be afraid and will need help. We can help.” Lengthening his own steps, Ashar matched Irv’s long strides. “Irv, seriously. What’s going through your head?”

  Irv pivoted mid-step, his facial features set in stubborn lines. “War is like a disease. It gets its claws into people’s minds and makes them do things they wouldn’t normally do. My grandpa used to tell stories all the time about war. He said lots of things, but one thing he said over and over was that the neighbor ya thought was your friend would stab ya for nothing.”

  Shifting the weight of his pack, Ash answered. “Well, I’m not saying we should pretend things are normal and trust any stranger who comes our way. But I am saying, if we have knowledge that could save someone’s life, we should use it to help.”

  “I’ve thought about this for a long time. It was always going to happen. It’s best to stay off the grid, and the less people that know about you, the better. So let’s just keep moving,” Irv said impatiently. He tugged at the straps over his chest, holding them in fists.

  “A valley would be best. Near water. Low enough that we can get away from this smoke, but not so
low that if the forest catches fire we get trapped. We can follow the Talladega Creek for now.”

  Ashar hadn’t even thought about the fire spreading to the forest. Looking up, he wondered if it already had. The wind was blowing and all it would take for it to spread was one errant spark.

  Distracted from his argument with Irv, Ash quietly began to pray. For their safety, for rain to douse the burning city, for anyone still alive that they could help. He wouldn’t turn anyone away, and he hoped that if it came to it, neither would Irv.

  Irv’s comments made him think he had considered a war in the future. Ashar wasn’t sure why, but he found himself with questions about the man who walked in front of him. Had his grandfathers stories about war contributed to Irv choosing the lifestyle he had been living?

  His typical positive friendliness was out of sorts with such a doomed outlook, in Ashar’s opinion. He wasn’t sure how to calm his mind about the information he had just gained about his friend.

  Ashar’s thoughts occupied him until the creek bed they’d been following widened, running parallel to the state route leading into the city.

  The melody of the water was peaceful. The smoke darkening the sky behind them was off-key and clashing. It was better to look ahead and not focus on the startling truth behind them.

  Settling to eat after finding a patch of berry bushes begging to be harvested, they sat in silence. They were close to the water, low enough that they were free from the stinging effect of the smoke. The state route was close in case they needed to flee to an open space quickly.

  Irv’s mood was as thick as the smoke, shrouded around him like a cloak. Night was falling, restoring its canopy of secrecy over the world and composing it back to normalcy. It was a harmony that daylight would shatter.

  Tired, emotionally and physically, Ashar strung his hammock up and climbed in. Tomorrow he would face the reality of what was happening, and find a way to go forward. If war had really come, his future had just changed dramatically. His freedom was threatened. The forest would become just another recovery room. Except this time, the threat over his life wasn’t bones, it was an unknown enemy.

  Chapter Eight

  “We obviously didn’t go far enough,” Irv said irritably, peering through his expandable telescope. “I’m not helping them. They’re obviously idiots.”

  “What are you looking at? Let me see.” Ashar held out his hand. Irv handed over the telescope and grumbled as he walked away. Ashar was trying to give him space, but the morning had already been full of tension.

  Lifting the scope, he scanned the horizon in the direction Irv had been looking until he saw the small group of people that had congregated, sighing when he saw the fire. They hadn’t cleared the area around it well and even had piles of brush stacked close, increasing the risk that the fire would get out of hand.

  He studied the people. There seemed to be a family with two young children among them, a woman in her forties, and three young men.

  “There’s kids in that group, Irv.”

  “We’ve got a better chance of survival on our own, Ash. I think it’s time we go deeper into the mountains.”

  Seemingly intent on doing just that, Irv was already packing things away. Torn, Ashar surveyed the group again. They didn’t know what they were doing. He had no idea why they’d settled in the forest rather than leaving the city to go elsewhere. He and Irv had the experience to survive in the wild, and those seeking refuge from what had happened to their homes obviously did not.

  Ash clicked the telescope closed with a snap. “They’re people, Irv. I’m not abandoning them. If I do, I’ll regret it forever.”

  Moving to gather his own things, he continued trying to convince Irv. “If we walk away and they die, can you live with that? We have the skills they need to survive out here.”

  Thinking about leaving them on their own to flounder reminded him too much of being someone’s experiment. Right now, they felt like specimens to watch and evaluate, rather than help, and he felt sick thinking about walking away to leave them to fend for themselves.

  Rolling his hammock and securing it with the strap, Irv added it to his backpack. “I don’t think you’re facing the reality of life right now, Ash.”

  Straightening, Irv stood in front of Ashar, face-to-face. “That pastor said war. Talladega was not the only target. If someone bombed multiple cities all over the United States, the country is at war. Do you understand? All you’re thinking about is bombs. A war means there’s an… army. Out there, past these trees, we have no idea what is happening. Those people could be the enemy.”

  Stricken, Ashar shook his head, opened his mouth to deny what Irv was saying, but he couldn’t. It made sense. Why would someone drop bombs and then do nothing? They wouldn’t. Irv was right. There was more to the story that they didn’t know.

  Irv put a hand on Ashar’s shoulder. “Now ya see it. Ya get it. So let’s go. We need to stay hidden.”

  Ashar tried to consider every angle while he helped dismantle the rest of their camp and make sure they were leaving it as close to what it had been when they’d arrived.

  Nothing doused his desire to help. He didn’t believe the cluster of people had evil intent. They had simply sought refuge in the forest.

  Slinging his backpack into place, he calmly faced Irv. Even if it meant death, he wouldn’t leave the group behind. He felt Irv’s arguments were born from fear.

  Ashar didn’t fear death, because he knew there was something better waiting for him. Irv did not have such a promise to hold to.

  “I’m sorry, Irv, I have to help them,” Ashar stated.

  Irv’s jaw clenched, and his eyes shuttered. Anger tightened his fists around the straps of his pack. “If ya go help them, I’m leaving,” he threatened.

  Quietly regarding his friend, Ash knew he could not back down. He refused to let anyone die when he had the means to help them.

  “Stay here then,” he pleaded. “I’ll approach them alone.”

  “No. I’m moving on, you’re on your own.”

  Ash didn’t want to believe it, and hoped that Irv’s anger was making him speak rashly.

  He prayed as he walked away from the only friend he’d ever really had. He hoped that his instincts were right and that he was not walking into danger, but he knew that was just his own fears speaking.

  Only when he was close enough to announce his presence to the group did he look back, anticipating Irv sheepish and apologetic behind him. He was alone.

  “Keep him safe, God,” he prayed. “Keep us all safe.”

  He called out a greeting as he moved forward into the small clearing, watching as the group rose in alarm, several of them casting about and grabbing at things they could use as weapons, fear evident on their faces.

  Ashar realized too late that his worn clothing and rugged appearance probably was as frightening as a stranger appearing out of the woods. “I’ve come to help,” he assured them.

  The oldest man moved to place himself between Ashar and the group, brandishing a thick branch out in front of him. “We don’t need help! Go away!”

  Ashar lifted his hands so everyone could see them. “I’m a backpacker, so I’ve been living in the mountains for. I saw what happened to the city. I’m really just here to help.”

  The youngest of the two children in the group spoke from behind the man, her eyes wide with curiosity. “You live in the mountains? All by yourself?”

  He guessed the little girl couldn’t be older than five or six. Rather than lying, he avoided directly answering the last part. “Yeah, I live out here.”

  “Go back and sit down, Kate,” the man ordered and addressed Ashar. “What do you want? If you’re looking for supplies, we don’t have enough as it is.”

  “I don’t need your supplies,” Ash assured him. “I came because you’re endangering yourselves and I felt I needed to warn you.”

  Confusion flickered across several faces. “Endangering ourselves? How exactly?”
one of the others asked.

  “Your fire. You need to put it out.”

  His statement was met with incredulity amongst the group, further cementing Ashar’s belief that they were completely clueless about survival.

  “Why would we need to put the fire out?” the man facing him inquired, genuinely baffled.

  “It isn’t contained,” Ash replied. “And it’s dry. I’m already concerned the fire from the city could spread to the forest, but you have kindling too close to the flames, and where you have your fire is too close to branches that could easily catch.”

  One of the younger men moved to douse the fire with water from a bottle. “Don’t use that!” Ash called, taking a step forward. The older man countered, his muscles tightening as he prepared to attack.

  “Look,” Ash said impatiently. “You obviously need help. I can help. Wasting your water on putting out a fire isn’t good sense.”

  “What’s in your backpack?” the man demanded to know. “Show us.”

  Ashar found the request odd, but complied, letting his pack fall so he could unzip it and open it to show him.

  The man’s shoulders crumpled and the branch fell with a thud after he peered inside. “It could have been a bomb,” he said, his voice apologetic and tinged with grief.

  “I’m not the enemy,” Ashar said quietly, zipping his pack back up as he walked forward. “Use the dirt,” he said to those around the campfire as he joined them, showing them what he meant.

  Two of the younger men, close to his own age, introduced themselves as Carl and Adam and followed his directive to put the fire out. Ashar met the eyes of each of the others as the rest told him who they were, seeing that their trust had shifted as easily as the flames of the fire had been snuffed out.

  Monty seemed to be approximately the same age as the the other younger men, but where the other two were eager, neat and tidy, Monty had a sullen look to him and wore his clothing like a shield. His jacket was too big and hooded, and his jeans bagged around his clumpy boots.