14
SIX WEEKS BEFORE THE PEACE TREATY SIGNING
“SINCE THIS WILL BE my last television address before the signing of the peace treaty, I can think of no better way to leave you than with this.”
Effervescent glow on his face, age had yet to weather Salvador Romanero’s radiant olive skin. Hair combed to perfection, he gazed deep into the camera, allowing the billions watching to catch a close-up glimpse of the sparkle in his eyes. “With our planet slowly but surely coming back to life, the only thing missing now is young children. With so many women soon-to-be entering into their third trimesters, in just a few short months we’ll get to experience the joys of child birth again. I eagerly anticipate having precious little ones living among us.”
More worshipers for me, Romanero thought, breaking into a warm smile. “Imagine how blessed the woman responsible for bringing the first child into the world will feel after nine long months without them? It’s in that spirit that I wish to announce that lucky woman will receive one-million dollars, compliments of the Global Community.”
The Miracle Maker paused to let his words resonate. “The second woman to give birth will receive five-hundred thousand dollars. The third woman will receive two-hundred and fifty thousand. And prizes amounting to one-hundred thousand dollars will be awarded to the next ninety-seven women giving birth.
“Also, prizes of one-hundred thousand dollars will be awarded to all doctors and fifty-thousand dollars to all nurses and other staff assisting in the birth process. All gifts awarded will be issued on a new international monetary card, the first of its kind. It will be widely available before the first child is born.
“But let me caution all doctors and nurses out there that in order to win a cash prize, the births must be natural. If there are any signs of induced labor, your patient will automatically be disqualified. In short, the child must enter into the world when it’s good and ready, not when you doctors think it’s time. We’ll be watching,” Romanero joked. Or was he?
“My dear precious ladies, even if you’re not among the first one hundred to give birth, consider it your civic duty to join the more than one million women, ages twelve to sixty, who are already helping to repopulate the Earth.
“Six months from now I’d like to see that number rise to fifty million pregnancies worldwide. Make me proud, ladies. Do whatever it takes to help move society along.
“To help make your decision easier, I wish to declare that all women giving birth from this point forward will receive free care and hospitalization, from start to finish, plus a lifetime supply of diapers and everything else you will need to properly raise your child, all compliments of the Global Community.
“All you have to do is get pregnant. I’ll take care of the rest. You have my word that I will not let you down. By helping the cause, future generations will celebrate you as heroines for being this chosen generation’s brave givers of life.
“As I close, I wish to thank the millions of you who asked me for sperm donations. While this is not possible, just know in your hearts that your child is also my child, and I will see that he or she will be fully cared for. So, what are you waiting for, ladies? Let’s get busy. See you all again in Jerusalem!”
Romanero flashed his now-famous peace sign gesture with his right hand, rotating it in a circular motion signifying world peace for all.
At that, his image faded to black.
After Romanero’s speech, the Pope took to the airwaves from the Vatican to give his formal reply. In the few short minutes he spoke, he was in total agreement with everything Salvador Romanero said. He urged Catholic women, married or not, to get pregnant in the soonest possible time. More worshipers for me, thought the Pope.
Father Tom Dunleavey watched and could only shake his head. First it was his painstaking meeting with Brian Mulrooney. Now this? He couldn’t stomach how the preeminent leader of the free world and the undisputed leader of the Catholic Church could endorse such foolishness.
Of the million or so women who were already pregnant, hundreds of thousands were young adolescents. More than 20 percent from that demographic were young Catholic girls.
Father Dunleavey feared that millions of Catholic teenage girls would get pregnant in the coming weeks. And why not, after just receiving the full blessing from the Pope himself?
Thanks to him, and Salvador Romanero, these youngsters weren’t concerned about the bond of marriage set forth by God, or that their children might not grow up with a father.
All that mattered was fulfilling their civil obligation to help repopulate Planet Earth...
In an instant, social media sites were bustling with young teenage girls boasting their willingness to help the cause, by getting pregnant in the soonest possible fashion. Like the many “already-with-child” women posting selfies online of their constantly expanding baby bumps, this new crop of women looked forward to doing the same. It was the new “in-thing” for women.
Some even held contests searching for the perfect man to impregnate them. Many went live on social media platforms and were scantily dressed. Some wore nothing at all.
With absolutely no parental strings attached, hundreds of millions of men gladly offered their services.
What was unthinkable just a few short months ago had become commonplace. The uncontested absurdities of Romanero’s speech last January at UN Headquarters, was now bearing dangerous fruit.
Even Vegas odds-makers were getting in on the action. For the first time in months, online gambling sites were abuzz with people placing bets on which woman would give birth first. Much like horse racing, exacta and trifecta bets were also being wagered.
To the many who’d battled gambling addictions in the past, who were suddenly cut off at the Rapture, it was music to their ears. While betting on childbirth wasn’t nearly as exciting as betting on the Super Bowl, per se, it was enough to get their juices flowing until the sports world sprang to life again in the projected not-too-distant future.
With a heavy heart, Tom Dunleavey was unable to wrap his mind around what had become his world. First it was the meteoric rise of Salvador Romanero and his close association with the Pope. Everything about their alliance felt evil to the Catholic priest.
Tom Dunleavey wondered for the millionth time since last November’s strange occurrence if he’d unintentionally led so many astray, by placing the Catholic Way above the true Word of God?
His mind wanted to tell him no.
But according to his dream, the answer was yes.
All Brian Mulrooney did was reinforce it to him.
Tom Dunleavey sighed. Now more than ever, the Catholic priest feared he never really knew the God of the Bible. He felt this strong conviction in his spirit and let out an awful sob that forced its way up from deep in his gut.
Looking up at the ceiling with blurred vision, he said, “What have I done, Father? Is it too late to beg Your forgiveness for preaching a false gospel all these years? The anguish I feel for leading so many astray now consumes me.
“Am I worthy of another chance with You? There’s nothing I want more than to know You, Father, to really know You, like Brian Mulrooney does,” the Catholic priest cried out.
“I beg you, please, help me make an about face so I can finally be of good service to You. Strip me away of all things man-made, so I can be part of Your end times harvest. I’m willing to forsake all other things, including the church I’ve dedicated my life to. Please lead me in the right direction, Father. This I humbly ask in the only name that saves, Christ Jesus, Amen.”
Finished praying, just as the Catholic priest was about to perform the sign of the cross, something deep inside told him this was one of the many man-made gestures he just begged to be delivered from.
; For the first time ever, Tom Dunleavey felt he was being led by God’s Holy Spirit, and not man. It felt good.
He would rejoice even more knowing millions of Catholics were diligently seeking their Creator, without the guidance of the Catholic Church and its many soul-destroying road blocks.
With their spiritual eyes and ears opened, they, too, were having life-transforming experiences, which meant their days with the church that had kept them living in spiritual darkness all their lives were numbered...
15
RENATE MCCALLISTER WASN’T A happy woman. During Salvador Romanero’s speech, tears fell from her cheeks one after another.
What she felt was an equal measure of joy and pain. Joy for the many women who were now pregnant and soon-to-give birth, and pain because of her boyfriend’s worsening condition. It hadn’t improved one bit since last November. The distance between them, though mostly unspoken, was gnawing on her like a dog gnawing on a bone.
Renate found it impossible to look at her Facebook and Instagram accounts without getting even more emotional. Each post she read from friends sharing their willingness to get pregnant for the greater good tore her up inside all the more.
She couldn’t help but feel jealous. No one wanted to get pregnant any more badly than she did. Even her best friend and fellow environmentalist, Rachel Stein, who often said she never wanted to have children, posted that she was willing to forgo her personal feelings and take the plunge into motherhood for the cause.
Many men replied to her post asking about the requirements. Rachel replied, saying the right man wasn’t nearly as important to her as fulfilling the mission. Usually the snobby type, this was so unlike her.
Renate was certain Brian was unaware of the whirlwind taking place online. Instead of trying to reconnect with the world and finding a way to fit back in, as most had done, aside from work—a job Brian disliked more and more as the days passed—all he did was stay home and read and study the Word of God.
All this did was bolster his position that Salvador Romanero, of all people, was the Antichrist of the Bible. Salvador Romanero, the Antichrist? No way! Renate had never heard anything more ridiculous in all her life! Not only did Brian believe such rubbish; he shared his harsh opinion with anyone who cared to listen.
Renate hadn’t spoken to her boyfriend since last weekend, when she accompanied him to the supermarket.
The moment the cashier made eye contact with him, Brian started preaching, declaring that all who’d vanished on that fateful day weren’t as many were still suggesting, “Doomed,” but were eternally comforted in Heaven with Jesus.
Brian then warned that she needed to repent and follow Jesus before it was too late, and she ended up in hell herself! How crude!
The four-month-pregnant teenage cashier all but rolled her eyes. She was too excited about being a first-time mother to listen to her customer’s nonsensical fear tactics.
It was then that Renate felt herself shrinking away from Brian. On the drive back to his apartment, she felt something cold start in the center of her chest that quickly attacked the rest of her limbs. She told Brian she wanted to go for a walk and got out of his car.
Brian never tried stopping her, unlike in the past. Renate ended up walking five miles or so before finally reaching home.
During that time, she mentally prepared herself to live in this strange, new world without her boyfriend of five years.
With 30 looking her square in the eyes, she wanted to have a child by the time she was 31. When she shared these thoughts with her parents, they told her to follow her heart and do what she thought was right, that they were fully behind her all the way.
Her sister, Megan, pretty much shared the same sentiment.
Her best friend, Rachel Stein, was a little more candid, “Brian’s turned into a lunatic. What he did to that poor cashier is shameful. The last thing you need is to be further subjected to his mental torture. You can do so much better than him! He no longer deserves to call you his girlfriend! Time to look out for number one, Renate! Let’s get pregnant together.”
Remarkably, Rachel’s words were quite comforting. Then came the dream: For three straight nights, Renate saw herself giving birth to Brian’s child, a son. But instead of her boyfriend being in the delivery room, his father, Dick, was by her side.
Brian was nowhere in sight. Neither was his mother, Sarah.
It was bizarre, to say the least. When Renate finally mustered the courage to share her dream with Dick Mulrooney, it was like music to his ears; it lined up perfectly with the dream he’d had for three consecutive nights.
Convinced their Catholic faith had spared the family last November, despite his son’s dire warning that life as they knew it would end in seven years, Dick believed the future was quite promising. There was nothing he wanted more than to preserve the Mulrooney namesake.
The problem was, as his only son—brainwashed or not—Dick needed Brian to make his wish become a reality. Knowing he could no longer reason with his son, he gave Renate his full blessing and urged her to do all she could to get pregnant in the soonest possible fashion, whether they got married or not.
The fact that Renate wasn’t a religious woman meant if Brian wanted nothing to do with her or the child once it was born, this would give Dick Mulrooney the freedom to raise his grandson in the Catholic Church, just like he saw in the dream. Perfect!
Renate was taken aback at first by Dick Mulrooney’s encouraging words. It was so out of character of him. It felt staged.
While her parents never objected to having a child out of wedlock, under normal circumstances, Brian’s parents would never agree to such a notion. If Brian brought a child into the world without first being married, his parents would disown him.
But this was a whole new world. What was unthinkable to Dick Mulrooney prior to last November, was something he now understood completely.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. If the Pope, who was infallible, already gave his blessing, who was he to object? Not wanting to further muddy with waters, Dick refrained from sharing his dream and, consequently, his conversation with Renate with Sarah.
All this talk about getting pregnant only fueled Renate’s fire for Brian all the more. Though sick and tired of his religious nonsense, she still loved him and wanted to be his wife someday.
But first she had to find a way to pull him away from Jacquelyn Swindell. Renate was convinced she was brainwashing Brian even more than the Bible was. If she could only pull her boyfriend away from Jacquelyn, he would finally see how blinded he was all along, and how the wool had been pulled over his eyes.
Once that happened, if it happened, surely his father, or better yet, a Catholic priest could nurse Brian back to his senses, spiritually speaking, as she did her best to nurse him back to health, physically and mentally.
Yes, it was time for Renate to step in and save her boyfriend’s life. Enough was enough!
The more time Brian spent with Jacquelyn Swindell, Charles what’s his name, and the rest of the religious lunatics, the further down the path of self-destruction he would be led.
But what Renate McCallister didn’t know was that she was the one traveling down the path of self-destruction, not Brian. Like all others who weren’t children of the Most High God, unless she repented and placed her faith in Christ Jesus, her dreams would ultimately come to ruin...
16
TAMIKA MOSELEY LAY IN bed in total silence. She was too terrified to sleep, for fear that she might have the same dream she’d had the past two nights.
At least in the real world, she had the power to change what was swimming inside her head. But the dream world was altogether different. Tamika had no control whatsoever of this strange dimension insid
e her head. She feared that if the dream continued, she might never recover from it.
Tamika sat up on her bed. For the second time since losing her family three long months ago, she bowed her head and prayed, “God, if You really exist like Brian and Charles say You do, then You must be listenin’ right now. If You there, I need to know if this dream’s from You. Please answer me before I end up doing somethin’ really stupid. Somethin’ I can’t walk away from…Anything...Please…Uh…Amen.”
Just like last time, after waiting five minutes in total silence, Tamika heard nothing. Not a peep! She laid back down, once again feeling as though she’d wasted her time.
An hour later, she was jolted from a deep sleep. Her eyes widened. There was a tightness in her chest, as if a bear was hugging her and preventing oxygen from getting to her lungs.
It was raining hard outside. Fierce winds penetrated the cracks in the windowsills without much of a fight.
But that’s not what woke her. As feared, Tamika was awakened by the same strange dream that had haunted her the previous two nights. Only it went much deeper this time. It was so gruesome that she could never share it with anyone else.
Could it have come from God?
Gruesome or not, it made Tamika think of something Charles Calloway told her when she first met with him at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel a few months ago. He said on the day of the Rapture the dead were raised first, followed by the living. He went on to say they were all joined together in the clouds with the Lord Jesus Christ and taken to Heaven.
He even read Scriptures to her in his hotel suite to further validate his point. Would that mean the dead were no longer in their graves? Tamika pushed the thought from her mind.
Her late grandfather, Samuel E. Washington, the object of her dream, died at the age of 72, when Tamika was just a small child. According to her mother, he was a deacon at his church and a strong believer in Jesus all of his adult life.
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