"I now ask of you all are there any among you who wish to challenge me here today? Are there any among you who dare to defy My Father?"
Jesus scanned the crowd with cold, hard eyes. His hands were placed on his hips and his pose was one of regal command. He slowly swept his eyes from face to face. Each expression was one of total adoration and devotion.
Then, an elderly gentleman, wearing a torn and tattered dark suit that had clearly been one of great quality before it had been shredded in the rioting, stepped forward. He was clearly a man of some wealth and position ... until the conflagration of the previous night.
"Jesus,” he said with bravery. “What you are proposing is nothing less than slavery. I will never submit to being a slave ... to anyone ... not even you."
Jesus did not hesitate or respond. His eyes flamed a fiery red and he extended his right arm toward the old man. Instantly, the man was engulfed in flames. It was sadistically agonizing. The man screamed in horrible pain and terror. Within moments, all that remained was a charred form where the man had been.
The crowd stood in stunned silence. Then a voice cried out from the crowd, “Viva le Jesus. Viva le Jesus.” The chant was quickly picked up by the rest of the crowd and the very city itself seemed to come alive.
Jesus stood imperially, his hand once again on his hips, as the people, by virtue of their frightened unanimity, sanctified their compact with the anti-Christ.
"Viva le Jesus! Viva le Jesus! Viva le Jesus!"
Warrenger and the other members of the Council nodded their approval to each other. Nothing could stop them now.
* * * *
SUSAN WATCHED FROM above, her astral form unnoticed by Jesus and everyone else. Her body remained in her room back in Indore, where she had asked to be left undisturbed until she was ready to emerge from her solitude.
She followed Jesus from continent to continent as he recreated the same scene, each time making a fiery example of the inevitable brave person who dared to speak out against him, and each time accepting the popular coronation of power as the crowd roared both its conscious devotion and its unconscious acquiescence to the will of the anti-Christ.
In this psychic state, Susan noticed that the dark cloud of malevolent evil still hung over the land. That could only mean the evil had penetrated the very fiber of the collective consciousness of mankind. She remembered Raji's words, “As above, so below.” As the evil penetrated the collective will, it penetrated individual hearts. There would be few who would be able to resist its influence.
* * * *
RAY CUTLER, ARNOLD Wills, Harold Bennett, Steven Hamilton, and John Barber slept the sleep of the exhausted. They had managed to hide the car in a cornfield outside the city. They had settled their nerves with the assistance of a flask of rum from Ray's glove compartment and had managed to fall asleep. John had made a remarkable recovery, not unlike the one Susan had made when Angelino had brought her back from death in Turin.
A sudden rustling in the nearby cornstalks startled Arnold awake. His sudden movement woke up Ray, who was dozing on the front seat beside him
"What's the matter, Arnold?” Ray asked sleepily
"Shh,” he whispered. “I heard something, over there.” He pointed in the direction of the noise. The corn moved again.
"There."
"Yeah, I heard it too,” Ray said, alert now.
The others continued to sleep soundly. Arnold grabbed his shotgun and slowly, and as silently as possible, opened the car door and stepped outside. Ray did the same from his side of the car, clutching his revolver tightly in his hand. The cornstalks rustled again. Silently, Arnold directed Ray to move to the left, while he moved slowly to the right. He placed his finger to his lips, cautioning Ray to be silent.
Once more there was movement in the cornfield, in approximately the same place it had occurred a moment earlier. Arnold and Ray both converged slowly and quietly toward that spot. Arnold pushed the cornstalks aside and pointed his shotgun at two small forms huddled together, shaking with fear.
"It's only a couple of small boys,” Ray sighed in relief.
"Look at them, Ray. They're scared to death."
The two boys, covered with dirt and with their clothes ragged and torn, looked up at them with fear. They were shaking in terror.
"It's okay, boys,” Arnold said soothingly. “We won't hurt you."
The boys didn't move from their spot. Ray reached out his hand to help them up, and they both shrieked in terror, recoiling from him.
"Jesus, Arnold. These kids are terrified.” Something caught Arnold's eye a few feet away on the ground. He pushed the corn aside with his shotgun.
"Oh, God,” he gasped involuntarily. The bullet-riddled body of a man lay in a pool of blood. Arnold guessed he had sustained his mortal wounds protecting the boys. Flies were already crawling all over the body. No wonder they were so terrified. He pulled Ray a few steps away so they would not be overheard.
"He might be their father, Ray. He took a lot of bullets before he finally died. Judging by his clothing, he was probably quite wealthy."
The screams of the boys had awakened Harold, who went over to join them.
"What's going on, guys?” Then he saw the boys and the body. “Oh, Jesus."
"We've got to find a way to snap those kids out of it. They're in shock. Can't say I blame them,” Arnold whispered.
Harold walked back to the car. He returned in a moment with a candy bar.
"Where did you get that, Harold?” Ray said. “I could have used that last night. Come to think of it, I'm pretty fucking hungry."
"Found it in my coat pocket earlier, Ray,” he answered. He moved cautiously toward the two boys and slowly extended the candy bar toward them.
Rashi and Jacob regarded the candy warily. They looked at each other as if hoping the other would make the decision. Without taking his eyes off Harold's, Jacob finally reached out quickly and snatched the candy from his hand. Their hunger proved to be greater than their fear. Jacob hastily tore the wrapper off the candy bar and broke it in two, handing half to Rashi. They downed it ravenously. It seemed to have made them forget their terror.
"We've got to coax them out of there somehow. We obviously can't just leave them there. They don't seem any older than eight or nine,” Ray whispered.
"Yeah, I'd say about that age, too,” Arnold agreed.
Harold knelt down and moved in a little closer to the boys. They flinched a little but did not seem to grow frightened.
"Boys, my name is Harold. We want to help you. You are safe now."
Jacob's eyes regard Arnold's shotgun suspiciously.
"Arnold,” Harold said. “Put your shotgun away. You won't be needing it."
Arnold understood immediately and walked back to the car, placing the shotgun on the front seat.
"Ray. Your pistol."
"Oh, sorry, Harold,” Ray said. He tucked it into his belt.
"There now,” Harold smiled at the boys. “No guns now."
The two boys seemed to relax a bit with the weapons were out of sight.
"I'll handle it from here, guys,” Harold said. “Why don't you wait for us in the car."
"I had no idea you were so good with kids, Harold,” Ray smiled. “You'd think they could vote or something."
Arnold smiled but Harold ignored the crack, his focus still on the two boys.
"C'mon, Ray,” Arnold said. “Harold can handle this. The three of us are just crowding them.” They went back to the car and waited to see if Harold would have any luck with the boys.
About a half-hour later, Harold rose and walked back to the car, holding both boy's hands.
Ray nudged Arnold, who had nodded off.
"Look. He did it,” he said, almost with disbelief.
"Allow me to introduce you to my brave new friends,” Harold said lightly. “This tall one here,” he looked to his right, “is Rashi Omani. This one is Jacob Goldstein. Boys, these two clowns are Ray Cutler and Arnold Wills.
” He let go of their hands and said, “Boys, you wait right here. I want to talk to Ray and Arnold for a minute. Then we'll see if we can't find you something to eat."
Harold leaned into the car and kept his voice low so as not to be overheard by the boys.
"It seems that the body is Rashi's father. Jacob's father is a rabbi in Jerusalem. He came over here with the Omanis on some sort of business trip. His parents were worried about him, with the war about to begin there, so they had him accompany the Omanis to America so they could be safe. Kind of ironic, huh?"
"You said ‘the Omanis.’ What happened to the boy's mother?” Arnold asked.
"She was killed back in the city by random gunfire. They said Rashi's father was hit by many bullets, but somehow he managed to find his way out here before he finally died from his wounds late last night. They made it all this way on foot, and him with at least a dozen bullets in his body. Fucking amazing. I would have liked to have met him. He was one hell of a man."
Steven and John both stirred in the back seat. Steven opened his eyes slowly. He sat up abruptly, forgetting where he was for a moment. His sudden movement made Rashi and Jacob jump back, startled.
"It's okay, boys,” Harold said reassuringly. “He's another friend of mine. His name is Steven Hamilton. He's a scientist."
"Who's the man sleeping?” Jacob asked with a small, high voice.
"His name is John Barber. He's a scientist, too,” Steven said, smiling at the young boy. “What's your name?"
"I'm Jacob. This is my friend, Rashi.” He was growing a bit bolder now that he was confident the men meant him no harm.
Steven extended his hand through the window and offered it to Jacob. “Pleased to meet you, Jacob and Rashi.” Both boys stepped forward, shook his hand and then stepped back quickly. Steven and Harold exchanged a small smile. These kids were really cute. Steven had never had much time for kids. He had been an only child and a bookworm when growing up, had thrown himself devotedly into his work, leaving little time for dating or the opposite sex in general. But he immediately liked these kids.
He could see they had been through a lot. Their clothes were tattered, and their faces were so filthy as to virtually hide their features. Only their wide eyes were distinguishable beneath the dirt.
John finally began to stir next to Steven. He winced from pain as he moved, but the color had returned to his face.
"What's going on?” he said sleepily.
Harold and Ray brought the two scientists up to date on the fate of Rashi's mother and father and how they had come to discover the two boys in the cornfield.
John regarded the boys with deep compassion. “Those poor little shits,” he said sadly. “We have to take care of them now."
"Yes, I know, John,” Ray agreed. He flipped the car keys to Harold. “Harold, why don't you see if you can find the kids something to eat. We'll take care of...” He stopped and swung his eyes discreetly toward the location of Rashi's father.
Harold nodded his understanding, and then turned to the boys and said, “Come on, men. Let's find you something to eat."
* * * *
JESUS SAVED THE jewel of his crown for last. He and Warrenger materialized amidst a crowd of startled refugees in Washington, D.C., as Susan watched from high above.
"It's Jesus!” a woman cried out, her voice filled with relief and joy. “We're saved!"
Soon, word of Jesus’ arrival spread throughout the city and the people began to flock to his location. He and Warrenger, the new Overlord of America, moved through the crowd, making their way toward the Capitol building. As in the other cities they had visited, the crowd followed like a wave. Jesus stopped at the bottom of the Capitol steps. The crowd stopped with him. He walked up the steps so he could be better seen and heard. Susan hovered high above in her astral form, aware she was observing everything with a sense of detachment.
Jesus raised his hands to bring the crowd to silence. He spoke with a loud, commanding voice. “Look around you, people of America. See the ruins and ashes your foolish arrogance has brought you to. The presumptuous principles upon which these edifices of government have been built were a hollow lie. Your precious constitution and your pretense of liberty and equality for all ... what have they left you with? This!” His voice boomed as he gestured toward the burning destruction in the near distance. The Capitol building stood oddly untouched, an island in a sea of rubble.
"The men and women who sit in these seats of power have been granted that privilege because you, my brothers and sisters, have bestowed it upon them. And how do they repay your trust in them? They line their own pockets, and the pockets of the co-conspirators, with gold, while you struggle to put food on your table and clothes on your back. They drive about in expensive limousines while you lie awake at night worrying about how you will make the next payment on your own aging vehicle. They sit in their places of honor and they laugh at you. They laugh at your trust in them. They laugh at your faith in the institutions they mock. They laugh at the chains you place on yourself. Most jailers must keep a watchful eye on their keep. These jailers chuckle with mirth because you willingly place shackles around your very souls.
"You have been swindled by the myth of liberty. This liberty has only made you unhappier ... has only caused the fruits of your labor to be worth less and less ... has made you more and more dependent upon the moneychangers for your very survival."
He turned and called out, “Armand Mathias. Eugene Crowley. Join me here."
They must have been standing just inside the entrance of the Capitol building, for they appeared almost instantly and made their way down the stairs. Jesus embraced them both warmly. He turned back to the crowd and went on.
"These are two men who have been vilified and ridiculed by those who claim to stand for liberty and justice. I tell you all these two men are loved and trusted by me. When they give you a command, it is as if it comes from me."
The crowd raised its voice in a loud cheer of joy. Crowley and Mathias smiled and waved at the crowd, which brought more cheers.
"I am putting David Warrenger, who most of you know, in the position of Overlord of the Americas. He will rule when I am not here to do so. President Crowley remains as your President. You are no longer ruled by the villains who sit in this chamber. My Father has taken you under his wing and opened his infinite bounty to you. The Golden Age is upon us!"
The crowd erupted into a loud roar of approval like roaring thunder rolling over the city. Jesus allowed the emotional frenzy of the people to feed upon itself, rising to a fever pitch.
As the crowd grew louder and more frenzied, Jesus walked down the steps across the street from the Capitol. Warrenger, Crowley, and Mathias followed as the crowed parted to let him through. He stopped and turned to face the building, then pointed at the dome with his right hand. A bolt of energy shot from his fingers, obliterating it. The pressure of the implosion caused by the bolt of energy pushed downward, blasting the entire building outward in a thunderous explosion. In a matter of a few seconds, the Capitol building was a pile of burning rubble.
Crowley's eyes grew wide at this unexpected action by Jesus. The crowd, stunned into silence, gazed at the flames with awe. After a moment, a cheer began, quietly at first, and then picking up intensity.
Jesus called out, “You are free!” to the roaring approval of the crowd, which had grown into an endless sea of humanity.
He led the crowd west down Capital Avenue. The crowd followed without giving it a second thought, cheering and calling out Jesus’ name over and over again. Jesus had promised to return and here he was, no longer holding back, but claiming his dominion over the earth. They would follow Jesus wherever he might lead them.
Where he led them tonight was to the National Archive Building, the place where all of America's most treasured documents were housed. Here were kept the original copies of the Declaration of Independence, The Constitution, and The Bill of Rights. If any building could be said to house the sou
l of America, this was it.
"This building is a house of lies!” he yelled, egging the crowd on. They obliged with wild cheers. The people at the far back of the crowd, a full three blocks away, cheered just as loud as those who heard him from the front rows ... they could not even have known what they were cheering. All they knew was Jesus was leading them, and that was enough for them?
"There will be no place for lies in the Golden Age,” Jesus shouted to the crowd. “Before we can build a new world, we must tear down all vestiges of the old. A new idea is being born here today. In order for that new idea to grow unimpeded, the old thought must be swept away. The slate must be wiped clean."
With that, he extended his arm toward the Archive Building, and an instant later, the documents that had defined a once-great nation burned within the rubble of stone and masonry.
Susan floated over the city. It was clear that before Jesus was done this night, all the great monuments of America would be reduced to cinders. The psychological impact of such an act would be unimaginable. For it to have been done by Jesus not only invalidated those heralded ideas for the present, but it made the statement that these ideas were never valid, even upon their conception. The message was: America was built upon a false foundation from the very start. It would have a deep affect upon the psyche of the people. Having their entire foundation cut from beneath them, they would become the malleable tools of the anti-Christ.
Susan regarded all of this with a detachment that allowed her to maintain clarity of thought. Perhaps back in Indore she would be able to figure out how to fight the evil that had been unleashed upon the world.
Shrouded Destiny Page 68