The Countering

by Patrick Higgins

  “Let’s stand and read them as they are posted on screen. ‘After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’

  “Hallelujah!” Holmes declared. “These passages will remain on our website home page until the enemy shuts us down. As you can see from the text, the number of converts will be too many to count.

  “As much as I’d like to say the ETSM will be the main source God uses for this glorious accomplishment, that honor is reserved for the one-hundred and forty-four thousand Jews mentioned in chapter seven, preceding the verses we just read.

  “The ‘after this’ in the text refers to the supernatural sealing of the one-hundred and forty-four thousand who will be revealed in the coming months. These Jewish men will lead multitudes to receive Christ as Lord and Savior.

  “As my partner, Travis, will touch on tomorrow, once these men are revealed they will be given full access to ETSM resources, including our land, if they so choose. I eagerly anticipate meeting some of them. Lord willing...”

  A smile broke across Holmes’ face. “That’s all I have to say for now. At least with the camera still turned on. In 30 seconds, our satellite transmission will be turned off and we’ll begin our extensive study of the Book of Revelation, verse by verse, and all other Bible prophecies found in Scripture which relate to these times.

  “This will take up the remainder of the day. Thanks for listening. God Bless us all!”

  Clayton Holmes left the pulpit and Bibles and notebooks were opened.

  25

  TAMIKA MOSELEY WAS EN route to Mitzi’s Delicatessen to meet with her friend, Craig Rubin, and get a bite to eat—a paranoid spirit leading the way—when the story broke on her car radio:

  “We now have an update on the Graveyard Incident in Brooklyn. A warrant was just issued for the arrest of Tamika Moseley, a Manhattan taxi driver. Moseley is being sought for allegedly stealing more than forty-five thousand dollars worth of brass flower holders from grave sites scattered about the cemetery.

  “And talk about despicable, before leaving the cemetery, she desecrated the coffin of a decorated military veteran who just happened to be her own grandfather. Moseley faces a laundry list of charges, to include grand theft. If you see her, contact authorities immediately...”

  Tamika pulled the cab into an empty parking space and buried her face in her hands. Theft? What theft? What have I done?

  Just as she was about to send a text message to Craig Rubin saying something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it, he texted her first: I’m looking at your picture on TV. What have you done? Please don’t come here. You’re no longer welcome. Turn yourself in at once, you criminal!

  Tamika didn’t reply to Craig’s mean-spirited message. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Her hands were shaking too much. Besides, how could she possibly explain herself when she had no clue what was going on?

  She got out of the cab and called Charles Calloway but got his voice mail. “Charles, I need you. I’m in big trouble. Please help me!” She then called Brian Mulrooney and left a similar message for him, after getting his voice mail too.

  “Where are you guys? When I need you most, you’re not here for me!”

  Unaware that her two spiritual mentors had their phones temporarily confiscated by the End Times Salvation Movement, out of frustration Tamika slammed her phone to the ground, shattering it. She bent down to pick up the broken pieces and vomited on the sidewalk, never more frightened for her life. And for good reason...

  It wasn’t difficult for detectives to conclude that Tamika Moseley was the culprit on the night of the break-in. After both late-night security guards were interviewed extensively, their story was further corroborated when detectives interviewed the man at the front office. He admitted to giving Moseley directions to her grandfather’s grave site on the day of the burglaries.

  Flashing Tamika Moseley’s picture in his face, the man unhesitatingly said, “Yup, that’s her, alright! She even drove a taxicab here.”

  The two guards were cleared of any wrongdoings and the investigation turned to Juan, the janitor at Moseley’s apartment building. After being grilled for more than an hour and confirming his whereabouts on the night of the burglaries, to avoid facing conspiracy charges, he finally admitted to lending Tamika a pick and shovel on the day of the break-in.

  Juan said, “She never told me why she needed them. I swear! If I knew, I wouldn’t have given them to her! She never even returned them. Now I have to replace them out of my own pocket.”

  These clues made it easy to put one and one together. Even a person with limited intelligence could have cracked this case.

  Still, if they needed more proof, they had it in the form of Tamika Moseley’s DNA. Blood was found on the ground, the rear fence, and on both Doberman Pinschers. The test results weren’t due back for a few more days. Still investigators were convinced it was Moseley’s blood!

  The media easily obtained her driver’s license photo and darkened Tamika’s eyes to make her look as menacing as she was being portrayed in the news. Her face was posted everywhere for all to see. Because of the intense media coverage the story had generated, detectives were at her door an hour later.

  Tamika raced home and had already barricaded herself in her bedroom closet when they started pounding on her door.

  “If you want me that badly, you gotta break down the door!” she said in fear. They banged on the door for ten minutes or so before finally giving up. It was the longest ten minutes of Tamika’s life! She was grateful they didn’t have a search warrant to enter the apartment.

  If they did, she would be in handcuffs by now.

  An hour or so later, after battling constant heart palpitations, Tamika decided it was time to make her getaway. She found an old blonde Tina Turner wig in the closet she’d purchased for a costume party way back when. It was a party she never ended up going to.

  The costume she always thought was a total waste of money wasn’t such a waste after all. She threw on the wig and mixed and matched various articles of clothing, including dark stockings to cover her still-unhealed flesh wounds.

  After stuffing as many things into her son Jamal’s backpack she knew she would need, she slipped her feet into the only pair of worn out black pumps she owned, which made her look a few inches taller. She prayed for God’s protection and left.

  Locking her apartment door behind her, Tamika was terrified to the point of passing out.

  Convinced they were staking out the apartment complex, she prayed whoever was outside waiting for her would dismiss her as a street person or even a prostitute and leave it at that.

  “Certainly look like a homeless prostitute!” she mumbled to herself. “Got the back pack to prove it!”

  The elevator door swung open. Tamika breathed a sigh of relief, then chided herself under her breath. Had someone from the sheriff’s office been inside the elevator car, there would be no way to escape. The very thought of being taken into custody petrified her all the more.

  Tamika pushed the button for the first floor and leaned against the elevator wall to support her back. Then it dawned on her how foolish she was being by taking the elevator all the way down to the first floor. It was like walking into enemy territory unprotected.

  In a panic Tamika pushed the button for the twenty-sixth floor. “You better get your act together or you’ll be in handcuffs in no time,” she scolded herself, under her breath.

  She got off on the twenty-sixth floor and removed her high h
eel shoes. She descended the stairs on foot down to the twentieth floor, then took the elevator down to the second floor before getting off and taking the stairs to the first floor.

  Tamika took a deep breath and opened the door leading to the first-floor lobby. She rejoiced seeing no law enforcement there. She was tempted to exit through the back door, but the word on the street was that the back door was the most staked out by police.

  The same was true with the two side-door exits. Front door it is!

  Tamika took another deep breath and left the building. As terrifying as leaving her apartment was, this was infinitely worse. Seeing two squad cars parked across the street, with windows partially down, her heart rate accelerated to the extent that she felt it might break a rib or two before finally shooting out of her chest.

  Her legs turned to jelly on two wobbly feet. In a panic, Tamika pulled her broken cell phone from her coat pocket and pretended to be having a conversation with someone.

  “You so funny, girlfriend,” she said with trembling hands, laughing loudly to the night air as if just being told a hilarious joke.

  The four men in the squad cars monitored her very carefully. One man used binoculars. Tamika felt their eyes crawling all over her body like slimy leeches, but kept walking and talking and laughing to the night air on her broken cell phone.

  Miraculously, the disguise worked.

  “Jus’ keep going and don’t look back!” Moseley told herself.

  A block away from her apartment complex, Tamika stopped dead in her tracks. Oh no! I forgot Cocoa! How could I do such a thing? She gulped hard.

  She started back for her apartment complex, then stopped and leaned up against a brick wall. Removing her high heels, she massaged her aching feet and took a moment to think things through. One false step would surely land her in jail.

  Having witnessed numerous stakeouts over the years, Tamika knew they would remain camped out for as long as it took to finally nab her. With so much media exposure, they would pursue her twenty-four-seven until they finally cuffed their suspect.

  No, she couldn’t go back to her apartment complex, at least not now. Tears flooded her eyes. With her mother and two boys gone, Cocoa was all the family she had left.

  “I’m sorry, Cocoa,” she cried. “Don’t worry, Momma will come back for you as soon as I can.”

  At least he had plenty of food in his bowl for now.

  But what about tomorrow? Who would feed him if she couldn’t? Certainly not Juan! After leaving the pick and shovel at the cemetery, he probably hated her like everyone else in the city.

  I’ll figure something out, she thought, reaching the cab.

  Tamika Moseley looked both ways to make sure the coast was clear, then lowered herself into the taxicab and drove off into the night, not knowing where she was going or where she would sleep...

  All she knew was that she needed to get rid of the cab as quickly as possible before they tracked her down using the GPS system inside the car.

  After that, she would move into the only residence she could think of for now, her late mother’s Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme.

  26

  AT TWELVE MIDNIGHT EST, it was time to call it a day. The satellite connection was turned on and Clayton Holmes’ image appeared on screen for all to see. It had been a full day and he was completely spent. If anyone needed rest, he did.

  “Wow, what an amazing day! I never knew it was possible to cram so many Bible verses into such a short span of time. Is your head spinning like mine?” His comment caused some to laugh. “I know everyone’s tired, but I want to take a moment to go over tomorrow’s schedule again.

  “As you can see by referencing your itineraries, church service will begin at eight a.m. sharp, Eastern Standard Time. We have three speakers lined up. Believe me when I say, you’re in for a treat. I eagerly await everything they will share with us. Expect each of your emotions to be tapped.

  “After church service, satellite communications will be shut down and individual testing will commence. I’m not going to lie to you, it’s going to be grueling; even worse than today. More than five-hundred questions will need answering on most aspects of your life. Everything will be processed into our mainframe computer, so composites can be formed on each member.

  “In the coming days and weeks, we’ll closely examine everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, which’ll allow us to get to know each of you a whole lot better. If everything goes according to schedule, tomorrow’s personal testing should conclude before we break for dinner. There will be no lunch break. So, make sure to bring lunch with you.

  “I’m happy to announce that twenty-five hundred of you will be chosen in the coming weeks to join the ETSM in a full-time capacity. Naturally, those who score the highest will be the first ones chosen.

  “As more people are needed in the future, those selected will be notified, via encrypted text message, then given specific instructions on where to go from there.

  “If you’re not among the first twenty-five hundred chosen, do not be dismayed. You can rest assured knowing by being invited this weekend, you’re an integral part of the Movement and will be called upon at some point to assist us in some capacity.”

  Clayton Holmes paused. “After dinner, Travis will share with us what must be done if we’re to have any chance of survival as time goes on. After that, we’ll once again recap today’s exhaustive study of Bible prophecy before heading back to our homes.

  “It’s important that no one forgets what we learned today. Each of us needs to understand the Book of Revelation inside and out. Consider it your new survival guide.

  “Now, if you’ll bow your heads with me. Lord Father God, thanks for protecting us today and for keeping us free of the clutches of the enemy. I’m grateful for the wisdom You provided as I humbly taught Your Word to my brothers and sisters in Christ.

  “As this session comes to a close and we journey back to our homes and hotels, supernaturally seal our mouths from sharing any details with the outside world. I ask these things in Jesus’ mighty name, Amen.”

  At that, the satellite connection was turned off and everyone dispersed.

  27

  THE FOLLOWING DAY

  AFTER MUCH SONG AND praise, a web cam was turned on from an above ground location somewhere in Shanghai, China, and Xiang Tse Chiang’s image appeared on screen for all to see.

  Only Clayton Holmes, Travis Hartings, Braxton Rice, Doctor Lee Kim (the IT man in charge of all satellite transmissions), and the 700 members gathered with Chiang knew his whereabouts.

  For more than 30 years, Chiang was a professor and biologist at one of China’s top universities. Then came the Rapture and the gentle man in his mid-60’s was forced to reevaluate everything in life. After coming to faith in Christ, he retired from teaching and joined the ETSM the moment the door opened for him.

  Speaking in his native Mandarin Chinese dialect, his words were quickly translated for all to understand in their own native tongues. His message was centered on rising above the coming persecution and focusing on the afterlife with Christ Jesus.

  Said he, “Like hundreds of millions of my fellow countrymen and women, until the Rapture I was a self-professed atheist. For many Chinese, atheism was all we knew. I was aware of the millions of Chinese Christians worshiping underground. I also knew what my government did to those who were caught.”

  Tragically,” Chiang said, shaking his head, “I often witnessed Chinese Christians being beaten in the streets for all to see, simply because of their faith in Jesus.

  “I wasn’t yet born when the People’s Republic of China was formed, and many Christian pastors were thrown in prison along with thousands of other believers. But I do remember when Bibles were ordered destroyed in the
sixties and churches were torn down.

  “I believe twenty million Christians were tortured, arrested and even killed. It was a terrible time. I was a young boy at the time, but how can I forget?”

  Chiang spoke in a soft, almost tired voice. Yet there was this ever-present glow on his face. “I wasn’t a believer back then, but it still pained me deeply to think that my own government could kill and imprison their own, simply because they believed in God.

  “Two of the victims were distant cousins of mine. Both were sent to hard labor camps where they suffered many years of extreme torture. The persecution only grew more widespread as I entered adulthood.

  “For instance, in the city of Wenzhou, which once was considered the Jerusalem of the East, my government recently tore down fifteen hundred crosses from buildings. They also sent out spies to infiltrate underground Christian communities, posing as fellow believers. Once these hideouts were exposed, their true identities were revealed, and many linked to those locations were executed on the spot. The rest were imprisoned.

  “Yet, instead of my government silencing Christianity, it kept on growing in spite of the persecution. What made no sense to me back then makes perfect sense now that I am saved. The enemy can arrest us Christians, but they can never arrest the Word of God.

  “We must accept that we will surely suffer, and that the enemy may slip in among us at some point. But we mustn’t be surprised as if something strange were happening to us.

  “Let us rejoice that we can participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that we may be overjoyed when His glory is finally revealed. If you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed but praise God that you bear that name. Times may be difficult for us, but we must persevere despite the coming persecution.

  “As Scripture says, we must consider it pure joy whenever we face trials and tribulations of all kinds. The testing of our faith will develop perseverance. Those of us who remain true to the end will spend eternity with the Lord Jesus Christ!