“What are you talking about?” asked Lex.
“See for yourself,” said the man, stepping aside and revealing two bodies. It was the young couple from the diner. They were lying face down in the dirt on the side of the road. “I was driving down the road when I saw a pickup truck ahead. It was parked off to the side of the road. I recognized it immediately, as the truck those fella’s were driving back at the diner,” explained the trucker.
“At first, I started thinking that maybe it was an ambush and they were after the load that I’m hauling. Then I realized that they were just as surprised to see me, as I was them, so I started to drive slowly forward. As I drew near, they immediately scrambled into their truck and took off. It wasn’t until I was closer, that I saw the two bodies and stopped. I got out, checking on them, but they were already dead, both have had their throats slit.”
Lex looked down at the bodies and could see, from where he was standing, that their throats had indeed been cut. Their belongings were scattered about. When Lex saw the pink backpack, his throat suddenly became dry and his eyes started to water. He remembered the gentle kiss the girl had given him on the cheek. He cleared his throat trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions that were not welcome.
“Those vile men robbed them before killing them. It’s a shame that I didn’t come along a little sooner,” said trucker with a sigh, as he shook his head.
“Why?” shouted Lex, losing his self-control. “What would you have done with your baseball bat? You didn’t do anything in the diner before I got there.”
“Sorry,” said the trucker, realizing how upset Lex was, and trying desperately to ignore his baiting comments. “The poor kids thought they were safe when they left the diner, and to be honest, so did I. Who could’ve known that those horrible men would lay in wait for them? Especially after the beating that you gave them!” said the trucker, softly. “And this bat is the only thing that I have to protect myself with,” he added, unable to hide the hurt he felt from Lex’s comment. “Don’t you think I wish I would’ve gotten here sooner?”
“I’m sorry,” said Lex, “I shouldn’t have said that. I realize that you’re not to blame for what happened here. I’m just so mad that I didn’t kill them when I had the chance.”
“Perhaps,” smiled the truck driver, “that’s not what God wanted.”
“How can you believe in God after seeing something like this?” spat Lex in disbelief.
“The pure evil and bestiality of these men convinces me that the devil must exist,” answered the trucker, “and if the devil exists, than so too must God. This here is the work of the devil and his followers. Back at the diner, we saw God’s work, through you, when you stood up against those four evil men. God isn’t responsible for the pain that sin causes. The devil and man brought sin into this world, not God.”
“I suppose I see your point of view,” admitted Lex, “but what about this catastrophe that’s killed so many and the millions of people that have vanished, where does God fit in to all of that?”
“Ya know it’s funny that you should ask. Until very recently, I never really believed in God or the devil. But that earthquake, meteor shower, and the disappearance of my sister, well, that got me thinking. I remembered something that she’d tried to warn me of a long time ago. And I realized that many of the things happening now are the same things that she told me the Bible prophesized. I then started reading the Bible, and almost immediately discovered that my sister had been right, about everything.”
“So, because your sister vanished during the storm, you believe it proves the authenticity of the Bible?”
“No, not just that,” smiled the trucker. “My sister always told me the Bible was written over a span of approximately fifteen hundred years, and contains sixty-six different books, written by over forty separate authors. Yet the entire book is comprised of hundreds of prophecies that have all come true, time and time again. I was looking at some of the research my sister had, and I found all of these remarkable codes in the Bible. Scientists have known about these codes for years and admit that they can’t explain them. It must have been divinely written, outside of the restraints in the dimension of time. That’s the only way that a book could tell the future, time and time again, without ever once being wrong.”
“Well,” Lex lowered his weapon, “we should bury them.”
“I’ve got a couple of shovels, let me go grab them.” The trucker turned, and walked back to his truck, returning with two shovels.
Lex set down the shotgun and removed his coat. He rolled up his sleeves and wrapped the two young bodies in blankets.
“By the way,” the trucker stretched his hand out toward Lex, “my name’s Casey, Casey Cooper.”
“Nice to meet you Casey,” said Lex, shaking his hand. “My name’s Lex.”
The two men began digging the graves side by side. They worked without speaking for a while before Lex finally broke the silence, trying to get his mind off of what he was doing. “What do ya know about this gang, besides that they all wear red sashes and that they’re obviously evil?”
“Not much really, just what I’ve picked up along the road.” Casey stopped digging momentarily and lit a cigarette. “They call themselves the Enlightened Ones and ever since the vanishing, they’ve been raiding and plundering up and down the Mississippi River.”
“Wow, they take in that much territory? Where’s their headquarters located?”
“I don’t really know, some say Wyoming, but no one knows for sure.”
“There are a lot of places to hide in those mountains and valleys. How many of them are there?” asked Lex, hoping to never find out for himself.
“Again, I don’t know, could be hundreds, could be thousands. The people I’ve talked to say that they see groups of fifty normally, but different people have told me that they saw these groups of fifty, in different areas at the exact same time. “From the stories I’ve heard, I know that there are more than one hundred and fifty.”
“Who’s their leader?”
“No idea, I’m sorry, no one has ever seen him. I realize I’m not much help, but I do know they’ve got a leader. Each group has a man in charge, but each of those men report to someone higher up the chain of command.”
“I wonder why they call themselves the Enlightened Ones?” asked Lex, as he climbed out of one of the graves and helped Casey out of the other.
“Well now, I have a theory on that, since you ask,” smiled Casey. “But you might think I’m crazy.”
“Oh, I already do,” said Lex, returning the smile and happy to have a new friend. “Who else would be out traveling around with a baseball bat for protection in a time like this?”
Casey chuckled and then started to explain his theory. “All the traveling I do brings me in contact with people from everywhere. And if a man spends enough time listening, instead of talking, he can learn a mighty lot. I was making a run through Nebraska the other day, when I stopped in a small town for lunch. There was nothing left to eat in that town because the Enlightened Ones had just passed through, taking everything and killing everyone.
I was about to climb back into my truck, when I heard the sound of a child crying, and sure enough, I found a little boy about ten years old. He told me how the men with red sashes came through the town, and how he’d watched as they murdered his mother and sisters. He also told me of a large giant who killed his father, along with many other men of the town. The boy described the giant as being twenty feet tall.
Now, of course I thought he was just exaggerating, after all, when you’re a kid everything looks big. But the boy insisted that the giant stood taller than his house and had super human strength, ripping off the heads of the townsmen with his bare hands.”
“Well the boy was probably just in shock,” said Lex, “and like you said, everything appears larger to children. As for the men’s heads being torn from their bodies, I’m sure they were probably beheaded or something.”
&nb
sp; “Exactly what I was thinking at the time,” said Casey. The two men slowly lifted the bodies and lowered them into the shallow graves. As they began filling the graves with dirt, Casey continued his story. “But then I found the decapitated bodies. I examined them myself, Lex, and I can guarantee that no blade was used. It was just like the boy had said. The heads had literally been ripped from the bodies.”
“How would you know, have you ever seen a head ripped from a body before?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. I was previously a guard at a prison in Washington and I worked on death row. One of the inmates there chose hanging, as his preferred method of execution. His body was so heavy, that when it reached the end of the rope, it kept going, and the head popped clear off.”
“No kidding,” said Lex, looking at Casey for the first time since they’d started filling the graves. “You actually saw this happen?”
“That I did, and I even helped with gathering the remains afterwards. The heads that I saw in that town looked just like that prisoners head.”
“That’s amazing, but I’m sure there’s a better explanation than a man that’s taller than a house,” said Lex.
“And on that note,” said Casey, “I found the tracks of a very large footprint. It was three feet long and one foot wide, with a six foot long stride in between steps. That would make him more than eighteen feet tall. I know, because I did the math. Can you imagine? A man that tall and strong enough to rip the head off of another man, he sounds like one of the characters in those Greek myths.”
“Yeah, so how does that tie into the name of the gang?” asked Lex.
“The Bible explains that when Satan, or Lucifer, as God named him, fell from Heaven along with the other fallen angels, many of them mated with human women, and the offspring were half human and half angel. The spawn of these fallen angels look like men and can die like men, but they have super human strength and power, just like angels.”
“So you think that this giant is one of these demigods, the son of an angel and a human?”
“Yes, while the Greeks called them demigods, the Bible refers to them as the Nephilim in some translations, and giants in others. I believe that this gang of Enlightened Ones took their name from their master, Lucifer. You see the name Lucifer means the bringer of light.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” agreed Lex, “I’ll have to give it some thought.”
Lex and Casey smoothed the last piles of dirt on top of the graves, before Lex took the shovels and leaned them up against Casey’s truck. He then unrolled his sleeves and put his jacket back on, before returning to stand over the graves once more.
The two men stood there in silence for several moments, before Casey turned and asked, “We should say something, don’t ya think?”
“Yeah probably,” agreed Lex, “but I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s ok,” said Casey, “I’ll say something.” The trucker turned to face the graves and bowed his head. “Lord, God, we ask that you receive the souls of this young couple and welcome them into Heaven. Through Your teachings, we know that You are the Resurrection and the Life. Those who believe in You, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in You will never die, blessed be the name of the Lord.”
“Amen,” said Lex, with his head bowed and hands folded in front of him.
After another moment of silence, Casey handed Lex his Bible, “Here, check out what it says. What have you got to lose?”
“Thanks,” replied Lex, accepting the heavy book, not knowing when he’d have time to read it. “And here, I have something for you too.” Lex turned around, picked up his shotgun and then handed it to Casey. “This will offer you a lot more protection the next time you have a run in with any of those Enlightened Ones. Here, take this one too and some ammo,” he said, handing Casey a small .357 Magnum, that he’d taken off one of the men in the diner. He then gave the trucker some ammunition for both of the guns.
“Thanks but I can’t take away your protection,” protested Casey.
“It’s alright,” laughed Lex. “Trust me. I’ve plenty of weapons to defend myself with. Hey, how did you get your truck working when none of the other cars are working?”
“I replaced the starter solenoid on this old reliable rig and she came back to life,” answered Casey. “How did you get the dune buggy working?”
“Oh, well, I, I kind of found it that way.” Lex flashed one of his charming smiles.
“Well thanks for the guns Lex. Where are ya headed?” asked Casey, while putting the weapons into his truck.
“Toward the coast,” answered Lex. “How about you?”
“This shipment is bound for Boulder, Colorado,” answered Casey, patting the side of his truck.
“What’s your cargo?” asked Lex, curious for the first time.
“Gas,” replied Casey, winking at Lex. “Let me fill up your dune buggy for you, as payment for the guns.”
“Thank you! I’ve been using a pump I found in the back of the dune buggy to siphon gas out of older cars. It’s a slow process,” said Lex.
Casey pumped gas into the dune buggy and then turned back to Shiloh. “Well, I’d best be going. I have a lot of miles ahead.” Casey grabbed the handle and stepped up into the cab of his truck. “It was nice to meet ya Lex, stay safe and go with God,” he called down, as he started his engine.
“You too,” shouted Lex over the noise, waving goodbye. He then turned and walked back toward the dune buggy and Kassie, who sat patiently waiting.
Snowflake
The Vanishing – Day 3
Alexandria, Egypt
When Mason and Cleo arrived in Alexandria, they left their boat at the dock, and were surprised to find several cabs operating. After flagging one down, they headed toward the center of town where Mason’s contact lived, about a thirty minute drive from the docks. The ride cost them four times what they were expecting but that was not a problem. Mason was nothing if not prepared.
The cab pulled to a stop, in front of the address that Mason had given. It was raining outside and neither Mason nor Cleo carried an umbrella. Mason paid the driver and smiled at Cleo. “You ready?” he asked, before he opening the door and climbing out into the downpour.
“Yes,” answered Cleo, flipping up the collar of her coat and tightened it around her neck. “So who’s this contact of yours?” she asked, once they were out of the cab and in a spot where no one would hear.
“His code name is Snowflake,” answered Mason, “and that’s more than you need to know.”
“Actually,” snapped Cleo, “under the circumstances, I think I deserve a little more information.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think,” retorted Mason, a little surprised and impressed. “I told you that you didn’t have to come! You’re free to leave anytime you like. Don’t, for one instant, think that I would ever betray the people that trust me to keep their identities secret! Snowflake will not be happy that I brought you along, so when we arrive, keep your eyes open and your mouth shut!”
“Whatever,” mumbled Cleo, in defeat.
“Remember it goes both ways,” continued Mason in a softer tone, as he added a reassuring smile. “I would never give him any information about you either.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence, neither agent feeling much like talking. Snowflake lived downtown in a two story flat, not far from the new Library of Alexandria. When they reached the front door, Mason pressed the buzzer on a small intercom speaker, but no one answered. It took three more buzzes and a few minutes of standing in the rain, before they finally received a response.
“Who’s there?” cried a squeaky voice, from the other end of the speaker.
“Snowflake, its Condor and I have a friend with me. Can we come in? It’s important.”
“It’s been a long time Condor. Who’s your friend?”
“Shasta,” answered Mason, “she’s been my partner for years, you can tru
st her. Now can we come in? It’s pouring out here and I really need your help with something.”
“Alright, alright,” answered the squeaky voice. “The weather this year is awful.”
“You can’t trust the weatherman,” responded Mason.
“Who can you trust?” asked Snowflake.
“Put your faith in the groundhog,” answered Mason, with an exaggerated sigh of irritation. A few seconds passed before they heard a loud buzz and the door opened, granting them access to the building.
“Is that some type of code or something?” asked Cleo, as they shook the water from their clothes and stepped into the building.
“Yes,” answered Mason, leading the way up the stairs to the second level. “He’s very paranoid, but with good reason.”
When they reached the top of the stairs and looked around, there was no one in sight. There were two doors, one on opposite ends of the hallway. Cleo followed Mason, as he walked up to the entrance on the right, and knocked. It was a French, antique double door, made of oak, with detailed carvings, wrought iron accents and a rustic, brass door knocker. A moment passed, then came the sound of many bolts and locks being unfastened from within. The door slowly creaked open and the two agents quickly entered, as the door shut directly behind them.
The entire flat was very dark, with only a couple of dim lamps lit. The heavy burgundy curtains that hung from the windows were drawn, preventing any sunlight from entering the room. Judging by the dust where the floor and the curtains touched, Cleo surmised that the curtains hadn’t been moved in some time. The furniture was made mostly of dark wood, and gave the room a very warm and rich look.
“So where is he?” asked Cleo, resting her hand on the butt of her gun.
“You won’t need that,” the squeaky voice came from behind them.
Surprised, they both spun around to face Snowflake. Cleo was instantly shocked by his appearance. He was a very small, skinny man, even smaller than Cleo, and he had absolutely no hair on his head. With white eyes, his pupils looked smaller than normal and his skin was as white as snow.
The Vanishing (The End of Time Chronicles Book 1) Page 12