“With what?”
He shakes his head. “With everything. With Allison. With my dreams. With . . .”
Tommy starts to say his faith but doesn’t. He can’t. He won’t.
Yet he still feels something inside. This restlessness, these voices, this nudging.
No, I’m tired and it’s just . . . It’s everything.
He ignores the feelings inside.
“You think we’re safe here?” Sam asks.
“I hope. Yeah, I think it’s over. I think we’ll be okay.”
He looks outside the opening of the tent. In the background is a massive fire pit. Tommy sees that men are throwing dead bodies into the flames.
As he sips his bottled water, Tommy thinks about the last twenty-four hours and specifically about everything that’s happened since this morning.
Skylar finding a Bible in the library and then being attacked on the street.
Pastor Shay finally praying a real prayer and giving a real sermon and becoming the real pastor he’d always meant to be. And then being killed in the church hallway.
Dan crying out to God. First in anger, then in fear and sadness and acceptance.
And finally Allison. Knowing and realizing and choosing in her last few moments.
All of them snatched and gutted and thrown away by the evil things out there.
Tommy suddenly has an amazing, awful realization that sends goose bumps all over his body and makes him seize up with fear. “They’re drawn to faith,” he says out loud.
“What?” Sam asks.
He looks at her, shaking his head, dumbfounded. “They’re drawn to faith.”
Of course.
Like a light in the darkness attracting moths, faith is the thing they’re drawn to. Like blood to vampires. Like drugs to addicts. Like innocent souls to monsters.
Tommy looks around the tent again but can’t find Jack.
Oh no.
He can hear the light echo of fluttering again. He wonders if he’s imagining it but he doesn’t think so. “We need to find Jack.”
Can it be that simple? That easy? That one simple act and decision can lead to your demise?
He grabs Sam’s arm as he leads her out of the tent looking for their last remaining friend.
They find another tent, this one with a line of people all waiting to step up to a large, circular tub full of water and then . . .
Be baptized.
The chaplain Jack was talking to is up there and . . .
No no no please no.
It can’t happen this way, this quickly, this suddenly.
The fluttering sounds are getting louder now.
Just like always.
Not again please God no.
Then he sees a figure coming up out of the water, holding his breath, opening his eyes, smiling.
Jack is smiling.
It’s been some time since Tommy’s seen that smile.
“Jack!”
Tommy can’t believe this. It’s crazy. They weave through the crowd as they hear the words of the chaplain.
“Baptism is an outward sign of an inward commitment. It is also like taking the witness stand to declare the truth of the gospel to all who are present.”
The thumping and the high-pitched wailing are followed by sudden screams. Howls of horror from spectators and strangers around them.
Suddenly the chaplain is swatted like a bug and sent flying into the back of the tent. They still can’t see what did it but they can hear those nasty sounds, loud and horrific like massive bugs scampering all around them.
Jack is picked up.
Tommy tries to get to him but the crowd suddenly goes wild and disperses, knocking him down.
When Tommy looks up, Jack is hovering horizontal, several feet off the ground, the water dripping from him, his arms hanging down.
Tommy shouts Jack’s name again but his voice seems to be lost in the chaos. Jack is struggling to get free but can’t move. Something has him. Something is holding him up.
Then Jack’s body folds up like a flip phone. His legs snap right over his chest. There’s a violent, sickly cracking sound and a howling. Jack’s body is shaken for a moment, then thrown into the air over Tommy and everyone.
The whipping sounds cut into the air all around them like machine-gun fire ripping through the night. Tommy knows Jack is dead and knows he and Sam have to get out of here. He grabs her hand and they run.
His head is a gushing waterfall, his gut and soul falling fragments. Everything races and rushes and nothing feels good.
They run. And they keep running.
The snapping sounds of Jack’s crushing bones and back run with him.
The relief center has now turned into a death zone. Everybody is running with nowhere to run to. Fires are breaking out. The living and the dead have become interchangeable. Any respite is now gone.
Tommy doesn’t let go of Sam’s hand even as she slips and falls. He keeps moving and drags her along. Scared, stampeding people smother them, yet they keep moving.
There’s still a way. There’s still hope.
Yet he knows every single soul around them realizes they’re all doomed.
They’re all going to die.
53
THE RIGHT MOMENT
They’re running back toward the bridge when Sam suddenly stops and pulls Tommy to her.
“Come on,” he screams at her.
He lets go of her hand for a moment as she stands there while a sea of people flow all around them. For some insane reason she’s stopping.
“I can’t,” Sam says. “Not anymore.”
Tommy shakes his head. “What are you doing?”
“There’s only one way, Tommy. We have to make a choice. You know it. Allison did too. Even Jack did.”
Tommy just wants to run. He wants to run and turn his back on all this and keep running.
Like I’ve done my whole life.
“They made the right choice,” Sam says.
Tommy blinks and knows she’s just being honest. He doesn’t have to see anything more to realize it’s the truth.
Sam looks at Tommy while she tries to hold back tears. “The choice is ours, Tommy. It has been all along.”
She offers him a hand.
“There are other believers out there,” she says. “I’m gonna find them. We can find them. Before it’s too late.”
Tommy doesn’t take her hand, however.
He’s still resisting.
Still wanting to do it his way.
Still wanting to control things.
Sam gives him a mournful glance. She begins walking away.
“Don’t go,” he calls out. “We’re safer here. They’re attracted to faith.”
Her body starts to get lost in the crowd.
“Choose God, Tommy. Choose Christ. I choose. I believe. I ask for forgiveness for not believing when I should have.”
The thudding sound of wings surrounds them. There’s wailing and more screaming. The people around him cry out but Tommy can no longer see Sam.
He looks up to the skies.
They’ve begun to glow, turning bloodred. The clouds are parting like two thunderous doors opening.
Then comes the piercing, blaring noise.
It’s another trumpet. Another announcement of doom.
The skies continue to bleed out. Figures—horrible, haunting things—start to fill the sky. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
Spilling out.
Coming down.
Rushing down to them.
This is the end.
Tommy is alone now.
He stares at all these people running and cowering around him. All faceless, nameless, meaningless. All those who meant something to him are gone. Even the young, starry-eyed girl who followed him has disappeared.
Everybody is gone.
Why, God?
Why?
Why are You hounding me?
Why do You keep chasing after me?
The noise around him begins to fade. The commotion and chaos begin to close down.
But the questions inside continue.
Did You create all of this only to break it?
Did You make something only to mess it all back up?
But the answers come right after the questions.
The answers resound inside. In his mind and his heart.
He hears Allison’s words.
“We either choose to accept and believe and get life or we end up dying anyway.”
Tommy knows God didn’t cause this evil in the world. It was everybody else who did that.
It’s me.
He couldn’t have cared less for God his whole life, and he still wonders. He still doesn’t know. Isn’t sure. Doesn’t quite understand.
After all this carnage and chaos, Tommy still has doubts.
Doubting Thomas. That’s who I am.
But his heart and soul long for something. For some kind of meaning. For something deeper. For the kind of deep love and grace that his friends all found before the end.
He’s afraid of the skies, the ground, the way his heart pounds. Of this pitch-black night and the hovering shadows inside it. His knees fall to the dirt beneath him. His hands feel good clenched as tight as they can be. His eyes are wide open without blinking.
Are You really up there watching? Do You really care?
This tiny place. Is this where it all ends? Or . . .
Is it where it finally begins?
Tommy hears it calling after him. The peace, the love, the hope.
There’s still time. There’s still a chance. You can still choose.
From somewhere, a surge of something begins to fill him.
He’s been running for so long. Trying. Ignoring. Burning. Wondering.
God, is there a place up there for me?
A breath exhaled. Heavy, hurting.
God would You really love me? Have You always loved me?
Tommy no longer feels foolish for praying these prayers. The world has ended and there’s no time and no need to feel ashamed anymore. Pride has been tossed out the broken back window. He still doesn’t know. He’s still not so sure that he can do this. That God will really love him and accept him and . . .
Save me.
But he swallows and feels his dry mouth and he decides to speak his words out loud.
“God, please save me. I’m sorry. For ignoring You. For not listening. For not caring. Please save me. I need You. I can’t—there’s nothing else. Nothing left. I have nothing. I need You.”
Tommy shivers. Closes his eyes and wipes the tears away.
There are more screams now. More running feet and ransacking tents and fires raging all around.
But for Tommy, there’s silence in his soul. A peaceful sort of quiet.
“I need You now.”
His bones ache. He feels something. But more than that, it’s what he doesn’t feel. Something leaves. Something—a whole lot of somethings—suddenly leave those legs and shoulders and muscles and bones. The weary world decides to finally depart. The weight clawing at his conscience finally dissolves.
He feels . . .
Free.
For a moment. For just a moment. But it’s okay.
It’s okay.
He knows God does love and does accept him. Yes. Sure. Of course it’s crazy and he doesn’t understand other than knowing that he feels lighter. He feels like someone who can finally stand up. Stand strong.
Stand right.
So he does.
Tommy breathes out a sigh of relief and stands up and sees the nightmare unfolding all around him. But the eyes he looks through are different now.
Sometimes it has seemed like his whole life revolved around watching and waiting. Watching for the right moment, waiting for the right memory to capture.
Hoping for that perfect minute where everything finally comes together.
But Tommy knows now that moment was always there for the taking. He was just too stubborn and stupid and self-satisfied to ever fully embrace it.
Until now.
The pandemonium around him makes him want to run. But he knows he no longer has to.
They’re coming for him. They will soon catch him.
But Tommy’s no longer afraid.
The Remaining Page 22