by Dawn Morris
“A few of us?” I asked.
“ . . . are believers in Jesus,” she spoke softly. “Do you know Him?”
I was shocked at her boldness. Nikki saw my surprise at her confession and reassured me, “Oh, don’t worry about that. They don’t care what we believe here. It’s our bodies they’re after.”
It was good to know that Nikki was a believer, and I nodded that I was too. Back in Petra, Tamas had told me that everyone who followed Yeshua, Jesus, was part of God’s family. I wondered if that was why she seemed familiar. So do we recognize each other? Was this a trap, or could I trust her? I felt overwhelmed and scared. But I needed more information, and Nikki was my only option.
Carefully, I looked around. Many of the women had marks on their hands or forehead. Cold sweat broke out under my armpits. I looked down at my hand, still bloody and wrapped in plastic. “This thing isn’t some kind of mark that says I follow President Bellomo, is it?”
Shaking her head, Nikki took my hand. “No, this is called a bar code. Whenever you see one of the doctors or have a test, they will scan that code. The information goes right to a file on a computer to keep track of your medical care here.”
I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding. I had a mark, but it wasn’t the mark of Bellomo. I looked at the other women and girls in the room. Most of them had a mark on their hands or foreheads in addition to the barcode on their wrist. Nikki did not have one.
I remember how the leaders in Petra had shown us from the book of Revelation in the Bible that anyone who took the mark of the false Promised One could never be redeemed. They would be lost forever. “I’ll never take it,” I muttered as I clenched my teeth together. “They can kill me, but I won’t do it. I will never say President Bellomo is the Promised One, and I’ll never worship him. He’s the Antichrist.” As I said this, I watched Nikki. She smiled and held my left hand tightly.
“Me neither, Dani. I am glad the Lord brought you to me.”
Nikki stood up and stretched, rubbing the right side of her belly. “It must be tight in there because I can’t sit for long without one of them kicking me. Listen, you don’t have to be afraid in here. No one cares what we believe. They won’t make you take the mark. All the Institute cares about is that you produce children for their customers.”
Someone called my name. “That’s one of the nurses. She’ll set you up with some appointments and show you to your room. I’ll come and find you. You’d better go. They expect immediate obedience.”
An old, grey-faced woman stood by the elevator, tapping her foot. “You’ll need to come much faster the next time I call for you,” she snapped. “I’ve got ten girls I’m responsible for overseeing. I don’t have time to wait on you.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out over her last few words. I watched her face grow intensely red but wasn’t expecting the backhand that smashed my left cheek, and I reeled from the pain, falling into the closed elevator door.
She muttered a curse before grabbing me and shaking me fiercely. “How dare you interrupt me?” The elevator door opened up, and she shoved me in. I lost my balance and fell.
“Stop!” I yelled as she started kicking me viciously. I tried to roll into a ball and protect my head.
“Don’t you talk to me, except to say, ‘Yes!’” she screamed, kicking me after each word.
When the elevator finally stopped, I heard men cursing. The kicking stopped, and I rolled into a corner of the elevator and squatted there looking out. Two men held the struggling woman between them.
“Stop right now, Paniz! You’ve been warned about losing it with these girls! Doctor Winston is going to have a fit if he examines her and sees bruises.”
One of the guards hauled me up off of the floor, and I gasped in pain.
“She’s a defiant one!” the nurse protested. “I just needed to make sure she knows who’s in charge here. You know how it gets if we don’t keep them all in line.”
The man telling her off shook his head. “Don’t give me that load of crap. She’s half your size, and you’ll be fired if you damage one of the producing females.” He looked at me.
“You okay?” I nodded. I’d had worse at Jack’s hands.
“Doctor Winston wants to see her.” He turned back to Nurse Paniz. “Now.”
My abuser shoved her thick brown hair back from her face. Her forehead wasn’t branded with President Bellomo’s mark; instead, it was tattooed in silver and gold colors that glittered in the light.
As we walked down the hallway, she muttered obscenities, holding my arm in a tight grip. Finally, we entered a room with a mural of a tree on one wall and the same floor-to-ceiling windows I’d seen elsewhere, showcasing the sparkling turquoise water of the ocean outside. White, geometrically-shaped chairs were scattered in appealing groups throughout the bright room. I sat where I was told, on a white chair in front of a desk. The woman on the other side of the desk asked me some questions before scanning the mark on my hand.
“You can take a seat in the waiting room over there,” she said, “You won’t have a long wait.”
As I moved over to take a seat on a chair by the mural, another nurse entered the room in a doorway to my right and called my name. She led me to a small room, where she instructed me to undress and put on the robe she gave me. I complied and waited for about twenty minutes before the door opened again.
It was Doctor Winston. “Well, let’s see what we have here,” he said in a clipped tone that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
When the appointment was over, I was taken to my room. I collapsed on the bed, too stunned by what I’d been subjected to even to cry. I didn’t hear Nikki knock or come into the room, but I jumped when she sat on the bed.
“Don’t worry, it’s just me,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry that Paniz is your supervisor. She’s the worst of them.”
I rolled over and threw myself into her arms. “I can handle her, but the doctor . . .” I sobbed out all of the ways he had hurt and humiliated me. Nikki ran her hand through my hair and held me.
“Dani, they were just examining you, to prepare you for getting you pregnant. It’s called in vitro fertilization. Doctor Winston has the best success rate in the world, but he’s a mean man. He enjoys inflicting pain when he can. Once you’re pregnant, he won’t touch you again. None of them will. They can’t take the chance.”
I pushed myself up on the bed, groaning from the humiliation of the exam and the pain of the beating I’d received earlier. Nikki stroked my hair comfortingly.
“This is an evil city, Dani. Only the most faithful of President Bellomo’s followers get to live here. It’s got every technology known to mankind and technology that has never been known to mankind, until now—thanks to Bellomo’s cosmic allies.”
I was stunned and disgusted. I didn’t know what to think. Pulling the pillow from the bed, I hugged it close to my chest.
“So is that what happened to you?” I asked. “They impregnated you artificially?”
She nodded her head yes.
“Why did God let this happen? I mean, He could’ve kept us safe.”
Nikki shifted on the bed. “I don’t know the answer to that, Dani. I’ve had so many questions and doubts myself. I literally feel like dying when I think about them taking my children. I don’t even get to see them. They take them away before I even hold them. I didn’t get to see or hold my first . . .” Her voice broke, and she curved her arms around her abdomen. “I’m afraid that I’m going crazy sometimes.”
I tried breathing in and out slowly. Closing my eyes, I pictured Jannik and Zivah. Oh God, why can’t I still be safe in Petra with them?
Nikki stood up, rubbing the same spot on her belly as before as she walked over to the large window overlooking the city.
“This place was originally a dream of a young Saudi prince. He envisioned a utopia built right next to the Red Sea, filled with the best and brightest humanity had to
offer. Instead, it’s a cesspool of evil.”
“Is this where you’re from?” I asked her.
“No, I’m from the UK. My family were all believers in Jesus. Mum and Dad put their faith in Him right after the Vanishing. We managed to stay off the radar for quite a while. We lived in a shantytown of sorts, made up of tents and caravans in a forest in Northumberland.”
“How did you end up here?”
“Soldiers found us. They rounded us up and took us to a camp. I was separated from the others and tested to see if I qualified for the Institute. Then I was sent here.” She turned away from the city scene and leaned on the windowsill.
“What makes us qualified?” I asked her.
“You have to never have had sex. There are sexually transmitted diseases people catch from having sex that make them unable to get pregnant. It’s so bad out there that almost no children are being born. That’s why the Institute was started.”
“So they make us get pregnant for other people to take our babies?” My whole body ached, and my head felt like it was going to explode. How much more could I take?
FLOOD
Chapter 38
The Lord your God will restore you from captivity, and have compassion on you . . .
Deuteronomy 30:3
Shem, Nua, Noah, and Laelah, along with others who wanted to stay close to family and continue worshiping the Creator, had moved to the mountains while I was in captivity in Babylon. When I arrived, the settlement was still fairly new and there was lots of work to do.
Abram and I settled in with my granddaughter, Raisa, and her family. I helped her with chores and cooking, while she fed her son, Ebe, and Abram. After years alone in captivity, I loved living with my granddaughter, but I yearned for my own space.
When it came time for Abram to be weaned, Shem insisted it was time for a home to be built for me and Abram. I picked a site overlooking the narrow river flowing just below our settlement. Some of the younger men erected a sturdy, little hut for us. They formed mud bricks and topped the small building with a flat wooden roof, which we could sleep on in the summer.
Once the men finished building, I decided I wanted to paint the small place after the old style of my childhood home. It had been so long since I had been able to mix paints and take on a large project. I was finally back home.
One warm afternoon, soon after we moved into our own home, when Abram was around five, Nua and I went up into the mountain caverns in search of minerals to make some blue paint.
It was a long trek to the caverns but pleasant. Nua and I had always been close, but in the time since I had returned from Babylon, we had grown even closer. We chatted away the hours as we leisurely hiked up the mountain, easily following the directions given by her son.
“It should be just up ahead,” Nua announced, stopping to pull a goat-skin flask from her rucksack. She tried to drink from it.
“Empty . . . but there is a stream just there. I’ll be right back.” Dropping her bag on the ground, she made her way to the stream through a thicket of trees. I sat down on a rock to wait for her, rubbing my ankle where it was chafed by my boot.
Despite the light of the midday sun, it suddenly grew dark. My heart froze in fear and dread seized me. Something malevolent was present. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and goose bumps rose on my arms and legs.
He appeared out of the air, ghostly, but glorious in all of his foul beauty. Despite the difference in appearance, I recognized the same spirit that had once inhabited the Magistrate’s body and had also whispered to Semiramis.
I stood up, shouting, “How dare you show up here! Don’t come any closer!”
The creature snickered but obeyed my command. Just then, I heard Nua scream. Immediately, I ran toward the direction of her cries. “You’re too late! She’s mine now!” The creature taunted, but didn’t follow me.
Rushing through the trees, I didn’t feel the branches whipping about my face and arms, scratching my flesh. As I neared the stream, I scanned the area ahead but saw nothing. I turned in a circle.
“No, no, no!” I cried out, breathless. I felt fear twist inside my chest. There was no sign of Nua, but the goatskin, filled with water, was lying on the ground.
I picked it up. It was sealed. She must have been heading back when something happened. Carefully, I looked at the ground around me but could see no obvious signs of distress. No footprints, nothing. I put the bottle back down as a point of reference. I had to get help.
Running as fast as I could, I raced down the mountain. I saw one of the young men tending the goats and waved at him, “Help, help! I need help!! Quick, get the others!”
He turned and raced ahead. By the time I arrived in the center of our settlement, many people were streaming from every direction, some shouting questions.
“What’s happened!?”
Shem pushed past the people around me, as I struggled to catch my breath enough to speak.
“Give her some water,” he ordered, and a wooden ladle filled with water was pushed gently into my hands. I gulped it and sank to the ground as my legs gave way under me.
“Where is Nua?” Shem gasped.
I blurted out the terrible answer. “She’s been taken!”
Within minutes Shem had a group of men arming themselves and getting their horses prepared to go after Nua. Another one of the Mothers gone.
“I want to go with you,” I told Shem.
“No, you stay here. I think this is a diversion to make an attack on the settlement. I’ve got to go after my wife and rescue her. I’m going to take these men, but you stay here with the others and help get everyone ready in case we’re attacked.”
As the men raced off, I ordered the other people gathered around me to grab whatever weapons they had and meet at Shem’s home. His house was large enough to accommodate all of us and had the advantage of being two levels, so we could see anyone trying to attack us. There also was a cellar in his house with a small well in it, so we would have water.
“I need to get Raisa and the children,” Raisa’s husband, Kal, told me. “They are napping.”
“I’ll help you.” We rushed to their home, Kal calling out for Raisa as we entered it. She was sound asleep in bed with Ebe and Abram cuddled next to her. Kal shook her awake, picking up Ebe. I scooped up Abram, still asleep. By the time we returned to Shem’s house, Noah was there with Laelah. He took charge and arranged men at the shuttered windows and barred the doors.
While we sat waiting, I explained to Noah and Laelah what had happened.
“It was the same spirit who controlled the Magistrate. He boasted he had her.”
Laelah’s face turned white and her face crumpled, “Oh no, oh no!”
Noah pulled her into his arms and comforted Laelah as she wept, his head pressed against hers. I turned away; the closeness between them was bittersweet. I went outside and looked down the path for any sign of Shem returning with Nua.
“Oh, Creator, please, please bring her back. Please.”
It was quiet for many hours. Some of the women put together a simple dinner of cheese and fruit, along with some bread. We drank water from the well. It was a somber meal; even the children were quiet, sensing the worry and concern of their elders.
Sitting on the rough wooden floor by the well, an untouched plate of food in my lap, I watched Abram eat, worrying about what was to come next.
“You are like a mother to him,” Laelah observed, sliding down on the floor next to me, holding a small platter of food. She ate slowly.
“But I’m not his mother. I wonder when he will mind that?”
“Maybe he won’t mind that you are not his mother, but what about his father? Have you decided what you will tell him?” she asked.
Just then Abram turned to me and smiled. My heart was warm with concern, but my answer was ready. “I will tell him the truth.”
“The truth about Terah is harsh,” Laelah said.
I thought about the evil spirit I�
��d seen just before Nua was snatched. Who took her? Was it Semiramis? I didn’t want to scare Laelah, so I didn’t share my fears with her.
“I wish the great Flood had rid us of evil, but it didn’t. It’s still with us.”
We fell silent then, each of us lost in our own thoughts. When we finished eating, Laelah and I gathered the dishes and cleaned up. The children were taken into the small yard in the back of the home by some of the young mothers to run off some energy. After sunset, we settled down as best we could to try to sleep. The men divided into a watch schedule to keep vigil through the night. I cuddled with Abram in a corner of the main room and fell into an exhausted, uneasy sleep.
Just before dawn the war screams startled me awake. Springing to my feet half asleep, I stood ready to defend my boy. I saw him still sleeping, undisturbed by the alarming noise, so I crept over to an oval opening in the wall to peer out.
The dusky sky was barely illuminated, but I could clearly see the green field in front of the house filled with fierce-looking men stamping their feet and howling their war chant. They held torches in one fist and vicious clubs made of wood, studded with sharp metal points, in the other. Their faces contorted in aggression as they chanted menacingly.
There had to be over a hundred of them. If all of the men had been there, we might have stood a chance, but I feared few of us would survive the night.
The rabble finished their war cries and silently parted into two groups, making way for two men on horseback.
“Serug!” I gasped. One of Shem’s early sons, Serug was Terah’s grandfather, Abram’s great-grandfather. I feared he had somehow found out about Terah’s child and come for his great-grandson. But how could that be possible?