Apollyon

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Apollyon Page 8

by Tim LaHaye


  Rayford felt conspicuous, though it was only the two of them in the room. He pursed his lips, looked around, and turned his ear to her. “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Rayford, I was not with that man long enough for him to have affected me this much. I know I was no better or worse than the next girl. You knew that as well as anybody.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Just let me finish, because Floyd obviously drugged me and I’m about to fall asleep. I’m telling you, Nicolae Carpathia is evil personified.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Oh, I know you people think he’s the Antichrist. Well, I know he is. I don’t think he has an ounce of truth in him. Everything that comes out of his mouth is a lie. You saw him acting like he was a friend of Mathews? He wants him dead. He told me that himself. I told you he poisoned Bruce. He sent people to murder me after I was poisoned, just to make sure. The poison had to have killed my baby. Anyway, I hold him responsible. He made me do things I should never have done. And you know what—while I was doing them, I enjoyed it. I loved his power, his appeal, his ability to persuade. When I was making Amanda look like a plant, I actually believed I was doing the right thing. And that was the least of it.

  “I want to die, Rayford. And I don’t want to be forgiven or go to heaven to be with God or any of that stuff. But I will fight this poison, I will work with Floyd, I will do whatever I have to do to stay alive long enough to kill that man. I have to get healthy, and I have to somehow get to where he is. I’ll probably die in the process with all the security he’s got. I don’t care. As long as I get to be the one who does it.”

  Rayford put a hand on her shoulder. “Hattie, you need to relax. Doc Charles did give you more anesthetic before we brought you home, so you may not even remember what you’re saying here. Now, please, just—”

  Hattie wrenched away from Rayford’s hand, and her frail fingers grabbed his shirt. She fiercely pulled him closer and rasped in his face, spittle landing on his cheek. “I’ll remember every word, Rayford, and don’t think I won’t. I will do this thing if it’s the last thing I do, and I hope it will be.”

  “All right, Hattie. All right. I won’t argue with you about it now.”

  “Don’t argue with me about it ever, Rayford. You’ll be wasting your time.”

  Carpathia would soon be on the screen, and Hattie was quickly dozing again. Rayford was glad she would be spared his image and whatever he would say about his debacle in Israel. Something cold ran through Rayford’s soul. She had forced him to face himself.

  Rayford was relieved beyond description to find out that Amanda was all he believed her to be: a loving, trustworthy, loyal wife. But since discovering what Carpathia had done to Bruce, to Amanda, to Hattie, he was again battling with his own desires. He had once prayed for the permission, the honor, of being the one assigned to assassinate Carpathia at the halfway point of the Tribulation. Now, truth be told, he found himself angling to be in position at that time.

  He knew he had to talk sense to Hattie, to keep her from doing something so reckless and stupid. But that was also why he would not confide in Mac or Tsion or his daughter and son-in-law, why he would not say a word to his new friend, Ken, or to Floyd, about his own murderous leanings. They would, of course, want to show him the folly of his ways. But he wanted to entertain the thoughts longer.

  Only when Buck was alone with Chloe in the privacy of one of Chaim Rosenzweig’s guest rooms did he realize how worried he had been about her. Trembling, he gathered her in his arms and held her close, careful not to hug her too tight because of her injuries. “When I didn’t know where you were,” he began, “all I could think of was how I felt after the earthquake.”

  “But I wasn’t lost this time, darling,” she said. “You knew where I was.”

  “You didn’t answer your phone. I didn’t know if someone had grabbed you, or—”

  “I turned it off when we were being chased. I didn’t want it to give us away. That reminds me, I never turned it back on.”

  She started to pull away. “Don’t worry about it now,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be on now, does it?”

  “What if Daddy tries to call? You know he had to be watching.”

  “He can reach me on my phone.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Agh! I left it in the van. I’ll go get it.”

  Now it was her turn to not let him go. “I’ll just turn mine on,” she said. “I don’t want to be apart from you again right now either.”

  Their mouths met, and he held her. They sat on the edge of the bed and lay back, her head resting in the crook of his arm. Buck imagined how silly they looked, staring at the ceiling, feet flat on the floor. If she was as tired as he, it wouldn’t be long before she nodded off. This probably wasn’t the time to bring up a delicate subject, but Buck had never been known for his timing.

  As had become the custom, Global Community Supreme Commander Leon Fortunato introduced His Excellency, Potentate Nicolae Carpathia, to the international television audience. Rayford was stunned at how straightforward and overt Leon was in telling his own story. Tsion had warned Rayford that Nicolae’s supernatural abilities would soon be trumpeted and even exaggerated, laying a foundation for when he would declare himself God during the second half of the Tribulation. So far the widespread pronouncements had been circumspect, and Nicolae himself had personally made no such claims. But on this day, Rayford had to wonder how Nicolae would respond to Fortunato’s obsequious opening. And he also had to concede that the pair had done a masterful, if not supernatural, job of choreographing the ultimate spin on Nicolae’s most public embarrassment.

  CHAPTER 6

  “I’m worried about you,” Buck said.

  “I’ll be all right,” Chloe said. “I’m glad I came, and I’m doing better than I thought I would. I knew it was a little early for me to take such a trip, but it’s worked out.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  She pulled away from him and rolled onto her side to look at him. “What then?”

  There was a knock at the door. “Excuse me,” Tsion said. “But did you want to watch the Carpathia response on television?”

  Chloe started to get up, but Buck stopped her. “Thanks, Tsion. Maybe in a little while. If we miss it, you can recap it for us in the morning.”

  “Very well. Good night, loved ones.”

  “Buck Williams,” Chloe said. “I don’t know when I’ve felt so special. You’ve never missed a breaking news story in your life.”

  “Don’t make me out to be too altruistic, hon. I have no magazine to write for anymore, remember?”

  “You do too. You have your own.”

  “Yeah, but I’m the boss and I sign the checks. There’s no money for any checks, so what am I going to do—fire myself?”

  “Anyway, you chose me over the latest news.”

  Buck rolled toward her and kissed her again. “I know what he’s going to say anyway. He’ll have Fortunato on first to sing his praises, then he’ll act all humble and self-conscious and attack Tsion for embarrassing him after all he’s done for the rabbi.”

  Chloe nodded. “So what’s on your mind?”

  “The baby.”

  She raised her brows at him. “You too?”

  He nodded. “What’re you thinking?”

  “That we weren’t too smart,” she said. “Our baby will never reach five, and we’ll be raising him, or her, while we’re trying to just stay alive.”

  “Worse than that,” he said. “If we were trying just to survive, we might hole up somewhere safe. The baby might be relatively secure for a while. But we’ve already declared ourselves. We’re enemies of the world order, and we’re not going to just sit by and protest in our minds.”

  “I’ll have to be careful, of course,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he said, snorting. “Like you have been so far.”

  She lay there silently. Finally she said, “M
aybe I’ll have to be more careful, hmm?”

  “Maybe. I just wonder if we’re doing right by the little one.”

  “It’s not like we can change our minds now anyway, Buck. So what’s the point?”

  “I’m just worried. And there’s nobody else I can tell.”

  “I wouldn’t want you telling anyone else.”

  “So tell me not to worry, or tell me you’re worrying with me, or something. Otherwise I’m going to get all parental on you and start treating you like you don’t have a brain.”

  “You’ve been pretty good about not doing that, Buck. I’ve noticed.”

  “Yeah, but sometimes I ought to do more of it. Somebody’s got to look out for you. I like when you keep track of me a little. I don’t feel demeaned by it. I need it and appreciate it.”

  “To a point,” she said.

  “Granted.”

  “And I’m also quite good at it.”

  “And subtle,” he said, draping his arm over her.

  “Buck,” she said, “we really should watch Carpathia, don’t you think?”

  He shrugged, then nodded. “If we’re going to have any chance of thwarting anything he does.”

  They padded out to where Tsion and Chaim sat watching TV. “No word on Jacov yet?” Buck asked.

  Chaim shook his head. “And I am none too pleased.”

  “I merely asked him to go in and get them,” Buck said. “Playing decoy and drawing the gunfire was his idea. I wasn’t happy about it either.”

  “The what?!” Chaim demanded.

  Rayford was strangely buoyed, despite Hattie’s threats against Carpathia. In his mind that showed a level of sanity that, according to Dr. Charles, she had not had in weeks. He didn’t consider himself a lunatic, despite his own admittedly unrealistic wishes to be God’s hit man. What he longed for, down deep, was that Hattie get healthy enough to change her mind about God. She knew the truth; that wasn’t the issue. She was the epitome of a person who could know the truth without acting on it. That was what Bruce Barnes had told Rayford was his own reason for having been left behind. As for Rayford, he had missed the point—despite his first wife’s efforts to explain it—that nothing he did for himself could earn God’s favor. As for Bruce, he knew all that. He knew salvation was by grace through faith. He simply never made the transaction, thinking he could slide by until later. Later came sooner, and he was left without his family.

  Ken appeared at the top of the basement stairs. “Doc and me was wonderin’ if you wanted to watch down here,” he said. “He thinks maybe Hattie’ll rest better that way.”

  “Sure,” Rayford said, rising quickly. He tried dialing Chloe and Buck one more time without success and left the phone on his chair.

  As he left the room, Hattie called out to him. “Would you leave that on, Rayford?”

  “Don’t you want to sleep?”

  “Just leave it on low. It won’t bother me.”

  “My people are calling around looking for Jacov,” Chaim whispered as Leon Fortunato’s benign smile graced the screen. “If anything happened to him, I don’t know—”

  “I believe no harm can come to him, Chaim. He has become a believer in the Messiah and even has the mark of a sealed tribulation saint on his forehead, visible to other believers.”

  “You’re saying you can see it and I cannot?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Poppycock. How arrogant.”

  “Can you see our marks?” Chloe asked.

  “Pish-posh, you have no marks,” Chaim said.

  “We see each other’s,” Tsion said. “I see Buck’s and Chloe’s plain as day.”

  Chaim waved them off bemusedly, as if they were putting him on. And Fortunato was introduced.

  “I’d better try to call Daddy before Carpathia comes on,” Chloe said. She hurried to the bedroom and came back with her phone. She showed it to Buck. The readout showed Rayford had called since they were in the bedroom. She dialed his number.

  Rayford thought he heard his phone ring upstairs but decided he was mistaken when it did not ring again. Looking around the basement, he wondered how a big, lanky man like Ken Ritz could live in a tiny, dark, dank spot like this. Ritz was slowly expanding it in his spare time, pointing toward the day when the entire Tribulation Force might have to live down there. Rayford didn’t want to even think about that.

  Was it Rayford’s imagination, or was Fortunato looking more dapper? He had not noticed while watching him at the stadium. But that was on a jerry-built setup from his laptop that wasn’t as clear as this live, satellite transmission directly to Ken’s TV. Television usually didn’t flatter a stocky, middle-aged man, but Fortunato appeared trimmer, more bright eyed, healthier, and better dressed than usual.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the Global Community,” he began, looking directly into the camera as if the lens was his audience’s eyes (as Carpathia had long modeled), “even the best of families has its squabbles. Since His Excellency, Potentate Carpathia, was reluctantly swept to power more than two years ago, he has made tremendous strides in making the entire earth one village.

  “Through global disarmament, vast policy changes in the former United Nations and now the Global Community, he has made our world a better place to live. After the devastating vanishings, he brought about peace and harmony. The only blips on the screen of progress were the result of things outside his control. War resulted in plagues and death, but His Excellency quickly broke the back of the resistance. Atmospheric disasters have befallen us, from earthquakes to floods and tidal waves and even meteor showers. This was all due, we believe, to energy surpluses from whatever caused the vanishings.

  “There remain pockets of resistance to progress and change, and one of the more significant movements in that direction revealed its true nature earlier this evening before the eyes of the world. His Excellency has the power and the obvious right to retaliate with extreme measures to this affront to his authority and the dignity of his office. In the spirit of the new society he has built, however, His Excellency has an alternative response he wishes to share with you this evening.

  “Before he does that, however, I would like to share a personal story. This is not secondhand or hearsay, not a legend or an allegory. This happened to me personally, and I assert the veracity of every detail. I share it because it bears on the very issue the potentate will address, spirituality and the supernatural.”

  Fortunato told the world the story of his resurrection at the command of Carpathia, a story Rayford had heard too many times. Fortunato concluded, “And now, without further ado, your potentate and, to me may I say, my deity, His Excellency, Nicolae Carpathia.”

  Chloe had been talking quietly on the phone during Fortunato’s bouquet to Carpathia. While Leon uncharacteristically stumbled while both making way for Carpathia and bowing deeply to him, Chloe hung up.

  “Hattie lost her baby,” she said sadly.

  “You reached your dad?”

  “Hattie answered. She sounded fairly lucid, all things considered.”

  Chloe suddenly laughed, making Buck jerk to see the TV. Fortunato tried to back out of Carpathia’s presence while bowing and tripped over a light cord. Out of camera range he had apparently tumbled and rolled heavily, distracting even the usually unflappable Carpathia and causing him to temporarily lose contact with the lens.

  Carpathia quickly recovered and grinned magnanimously and condescendingly. “Fellow citizens,” he began, “I am certain that if you did not see what happened earlier this evening at Teddy Kollek Stadium in Jerusalem, you have by now heard about it. Let me briefly tell you my view of what occurred and outline my decision of what to do about it.

  “Let me go back to when I first reluctantly accepted my role as secretary-general of the United Nations. This was not a position I sought. My goal has always been to merely serve in whatever role I find myself. As a member of the lower parliament in my home country of Romania, I served many years for my con
stituents, championing their view—and mine—for peace and disarmament. My rise to the presidency of my motherland was as shocking to me as it was to the watching world, only slightly less so than my elevation to secretary-general—which has resulted in the world government we enjoy today.

  “One of the hallmarks of my administration is tolerance. We can only truly be a global community by accepting diversity and making it the law of the land. It has been the clear wish of most of us that we break down walls and bring people together. Thus there is now one economy highlighted by one currency, no need for passports, one government, eventually one language, one system of measurement, and one religion.

  “That religion carries the beautiful mystery of being able to forge itself from what in centuries past seemed intrinsically contradictory belief systems. Religions that saw themselves as the only true way to spirituality now accept and tolerate other religions that see themselves the same way. It is an enigma that has proven to somehow work, as each belief system can be true for its adherents. Your way may be the only way for you, and my way the only way for me. Under the unity of the aptly named Enigma Babylon One World Faith, all the religions of the world have proved themselves able to live harmoniously.

  “All, that is, save one. You know the one. It is the sect that claims roots in historic Christianity. It holds that the vanishings of two and a half years ago were God’s doing. Indeed, they say, Jesus blew a trumpet and took all his favorite people to heaven, leaving the rest of us lost sinners to suffer here on earth.

  “I do not believe that accurately reflects the truth of Christianity as it was taught for centuries. My exposure to that wonderful, peace-loving religion told of a God of love and of a man who was a teacher of morals. His example was to be followed in order for a person to one day reach eternal heaven by continually improving oneself.

  “Following the disappearances that caused such great chaos in our world, some looked to obscure and clearly allegorical, symbolic, figurative passages from the Christian Bible and concocted a scenario that included this spiriting away of the true church. Many Christian leaders, now members of Enigma Babylon, say this was never taught before the disappearances, and if it was, few serious scholars accepted it. Many others, who held other views of how God might end life on earth for his followers, disappeared themselves.

 

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