by J O'Keith
To be confronted by war and death at such an early age could easily have done more than just leave a permanent scar on our psyches; it could have shaped our world view and turned us into bitter and savage human beings. But our anchor, our towering light was Jesus Christ and we knew that we were not the first Christians to suffer such ordeals.
Robert was our leader at that time and always led from the front. But on one fateful morning he stepped on a land mine and blew before our very eyes. I can still remember my heart jumping inside my chest as I saw fragments of his body spill over members of my community.
The compassion of our community and the love of our families taught us that Robert was now in a safer and happier place where he would finally get a good night’s sleep. I still remember asking my father why we couldn’t join him straightaway – his teary-eyed response was that my friends and I had too much life to experience on this Earth – and now, we could well be left in charge of ensuring the survival of our great religion.
Every memory I have of my loved ones in those tunnels is corrupted by the vile stench of death, the looming spectre of violence and the never-ending paranoia that we would meet a horrific end similar to Robert.
For while Christ remained close to my heart and my love for him grew with each passing day, I grew distant from those around me (apart from my parents). Like all of the children in our community, I had looked up to Robert as if he were our own Christian superhero.
Without his foresight and leadership we would all have perished long before we decided to relocate underground permanently and I remain convinced that he never would have boarded that ship.
I love my father with all my heart, but he was too trusting of his old non-Christian friends. If only he...I sometimes dream of a parallel universe where I was able to stop them all boarding that boat. Maybe then we would not be here, but then I fight my weakness and stay strong because my sweet Lord will soon return and then the Godless will learn that you reap what you sow.
But when I saw Robert explode into a thousand pieces my childhood ended as I learned that even the strongest of us can die. And while I knew that he was in a better place, I also found out that even the strongest and most heroic of us could be vulnerable and could be taken from us. In the ensuing days after his death I realised that we may not achieve the happy ending we so craved on this Earth, but this epiphany only made my will stronger, my spirit deeper.
Knowing that the end you seek to achieve may not be realised on this planet changes your whole mind-set, it brings you closer to God and nearer to his truth. This is not to say I ever gave up hope. In fact, hope may not be the right word because hope breeds disappointment once it has been extinguished. Instead, my will merged with my spirit and forged a determination that ensured that there would be nothing that could destroy this feeling because it was blessed by the Almighty himself.
Even if I was the last Christian on Earth they would never take away my faith I then told myself, not knowing that I was prophesising my eventual fate.
But after Robert was killed we knew that our days living underground were numbered. We did not have the tools to dig any deeper so our only hope was to escape the country. Little did we know it would take us years to reach the East Coast and attempt our ill-fated escape.
It is strange though, when I look back at what may well have been the most strained period of my life, that I now look back at with fondness and the sense that it all went by so fast. Which is the exact opposite reaction I now have to the peaceful time I spent on the uninhabited island.
Part of this may be because of the repetitious nature of each day that we were down there. We would walk for twelve hours straight, then we would stop to sleep for four hours before awaking to continue our journey for twelve hours. The adults would take in turns to keep watch over us while we slept in the early days; all of them carried large bags with all our food supplies.
The sewers smelt like a mixture of sewage, death and chlorine. Our parents found it a lot harder to put up with as they had known how wonderful fresh air could smell like. But because for my generation it was the only smell we had known, we grew accustomed to it quite easily, which allowed it to fade into the background.
Despite their constant struggle with acclimatising to the conditions in those tunnels, they made sure we never saw them experience a moment of doubt or weakness. We constantly drew comfort from their mental strength, and just as importantly their sense of humour. They will always serve as role models for how Christians can live a dignified life, no matter how trying the circumstances are.
It was Robert’s foresight that led to the underground tunnels being built across the country and he ensured not only that we entered without tipping off the A.P.D. but that we were also well equipped for our long and winding journey.
Along the way we saw many of our Christian brothers and sisters who had fallen by wayside and heard tales of how unprepared many of them were when they entered the labyrinth of our tunnels, which were deliberately designed to confuse the A.P.D.
We knew of the traps that had been sent to catch their agents and could not hide our satisfaction whenever we found a group of their agents taken out by one of our large nets or one of our other basic contraptions.
But all those dead bodies meant that the tunnels contained a putrid smell that increased with each passing month, towards the end the tunnels looked like a battlefield with piles of dead bodies around every corner. On more than one occasion we had to fling hundreds of bodies aside as they blocked our only available path.
Thank goodness for the Second Amendment because alongside carrying ample food each one of us carried guns and ammunition. And yes, this meant that from a young age I was carrying almost my body weight in armour and supplies, but it is amazing what you can achieve when you have the forces of immortal good standing by your side.
Robert’s genius insured that ammunition and food were scattered throughout our journey. Remarkably, the A.P.D. never found a single one of our stashes because they were camouflaged so well. It is incredible to think what we Christians can do when match our will with our wits. He and his peers foresaw the looming disaster and I have no doubt if it wasn’t for their planning we’d all already be dead.
For the first few years I never came close to firing a weapon because we children were always kept in the middle of the pack so that there were several lines of defence before we could be reached. But as our numbers dwindled and old Bubba Ray told me I had one of the better shots he had seen when he started training us kids, I led the rear along with Terry, Peter and Paula. Robert would always tell us that God is in the details and that’s why he planned everything as if God himself had ordained him to lead a Christian army, and my word did that make the world of difference in those tunnels, especially after he passed away.
At every storage point there were extensive medical supplies as well as body armour. If whoever’s reading this ever finds themselves in a perilous situation to ours, remember that you can never have too many antibiotics. Every one of us caught all sorts of infections while we were down in those tunnels – for the longest while illness was a greater enemy than the A.P.D. were.
Robert had friends in the military who served Christ before they served the government and they gave us access to some high-tech weaponry as well as the imperishable foods i mentioned earlier.
But the truth is it doesn’t matter how fancy your gun is if you’re shot at without warning. It was the body armour that protected your entire head as well as your body that proved to be our most indispensable asset. They had yet to be approved by the military when Robert’s friends faked a train derailment to allow us to steal the thousand pieces that the big weapons company were sending to the army for approval.
It still hurt like you wouldn’t believe, especially when you got shot from behind, but it meant this cat had nine lives.
One of the things I’m not too comfortable talking about is taking the lives of other men and women. I know that we are
coming to the end of a righteous war and that I had little choice but to defend those I loved from the Godless’ army. That if I hadn’t taken definitive action, it would have made a coward who was destined for hell. Yet there is something so nihilistic about having to resort to killing another human being to survive. Why are we so keen to destroy our own race?
If I ever get the chance to escape here and live in a Christian community, I would tell my brothers and sisters how sacred life is and that any form of killing should always be a last resort. Unfortunately, down in those tunnels we were fighting against our religion’s extinction. If we had not fought back, I would not be here writing these words.
Despite everything that has happened, I believe that every human being should be allowed to practise the faith (or lack of) that they believe in. If people want to be Godless, Muslim, Jewish or Hindu that is their right. Most of our elders mourned the fact that we did not establish America as a Christian nation and gave too many rights to other religions and most importantly those atheists who brainwashed billions with their theories.
I’d just keep quiet, because if we had done that and established a nation that was only open to fellow Christians, how would we be any different from them? What separates Christians from all other forms of belief is our capacity for understanding, forgiveness and grace.
But we will never allow ourselves to be helpless lambs led to the slaughter nor will we feign Godlessness. Forget every life I took, every life we took as a community as a whole during those dark times was unavoidable. There is a small part of me that questions my own reasoning at this point because we have still landed close to the end, only one Christian remains on our planet, only one person of faith. Have our struggles been in vain?
If I was one of them, an unbeliever, then maybe, just maybe I would have quit long ago. But even now as I sit here in this cold jail cell without any possible route for escape and set for execution within the next few hours I am convinced that you will show your light my sweet Lord. But I am not basing my optimism upon your divine intervention; I am not deriving my strength from this wish alone. I have long been ready to meet my beloved maker and if I die I know you have a greater plan that I do not understand yet.
I know from my all too brief teachings there was a time before Jesus’ arrival, a time before the first Christian. Just as surely as the religion arrived with Jesus it may die tomorrow but just as your son changed human history by rising from the dead I am convinced that Christianity too will experience its own resurrection.
I still remember the face of the first man that I killed. He had just shot Peter on his left shoulder and I aimed my double-barrelled shotgun at the centre of his temple and took him out. The colour from his face sank without a trace as he collapsed into a heap on the floor. We were under strict orders to ensure we killed every single one of their agents so they couldn’t run reconnaissance to the powers that be that were above the ground, so despite my horror at his spirit withdrawing from his body, I shot him again.
Thomas revealed another aspect of Robert’s genius to me years later: he and his nationwide team installed a series of devices that prevented any mobile signal being achieved in the tunnels. Numerous times we heard A.P.D. agents curse the fact that they could not get reception on their phones and therefore could not stream our appearances to their headquarters. Had they been able to demonstrate to their superiors that we were kitted with high-tech body armour that they still refused to wear we would have lost the one advantage we had over the enemy.
That face, that brief moment where his life drifted to the next world, replays in mind as often as the moment my parents and community were taken from me. I sometimes wonder if that has consigned me to eternal damnation and hell. What if despite the righteousness of our cause, God decides that taking the life of another, no matter what the circumstances, bars you from heaven or even purgatory?
I can honestly say that although I would find such a judgment harsh I would never question the Almighty’s choices. I took what I thought was the most morally courageous course of action and if the Battle of the Tunnels clouded my judgment and led me to make a decision that would cost me my place in heaven I would take any punishment dished out to me by Satan in Hell.
But then I wonder if that act of killing alone would in fact sentence me to purgatory, that it would be the countless other lives I took during that time, that I gave God no choice but to leave me stranded at the burning gates of Hell.
Regardless of our beliefs we are all guided by a moral compulsion to do what we believe is right. I will swear to my dying day that from the moment I was old enough to think every action I have taken has not only been guided by my Christian faith but also by my overpowering desire to ensure that God’s faith survived.
Not once did I feel a sense of pleasure when taking a fellow soldier’s life nor did I ever take a life that could have been spared. Several times we killed a large group of A.P.D. agents and when the remaining men surrendered we spared their lives and let them travel with us. We never tortured them for information, we didn’t even try to convert them to our faith but we did not shy away from showing our unending faith in our Saviour, Jesus Christ.
On two occasions, prisoners attempted to escape when most of us were still sleeping and unfortunately, we were then left with no choice but to end their lives. But the others remained with us up until the ship’s explosion wiped everyone in my community but myself out and proved invaluable in ensuring our survival.
They were stunned by how we survived in such horrendous conditions and remained abundantly optimistic, despite what they saw as insurmountable odds laid out against us. Towards the end, the last person we captured under such circumstances, Joan, informed us that taken had blown up every tunnel that was connected all the major American cities that stood west of Pittsburgh. The only reason they hadn’t blown up the tunnels under the major cities was because they were afraid that it may ruin the sewage systems in those major cities.
At some point we would have to leave the tunnels, Joan told us they thought, so they were happy to play the waiting game instead of sabotaging any major cities. They knew there weren’t many of us left. One of us asked us how they knew any of us were left. Joan replied that so long as A.P.D. agents went underground and failed to re-appear, it was clear to them that some of us were still here.
Among certain folk above ground, an urban legend grew that a mythical beast was roaming the tunnels and taking their men out. The story spread like wildfire and took grip of the national imagination to such an extent that they had to pass legislation that made any mention of ‘the beast’ a criminal offence.
She also gave us the sad news that we were among the last of our kind left. Most importantly, they had agents waiting, twenty four seven, at each tunnel’s exit in every major town and city apart from New Jersey and San Diego. These two cities remained unmanned because they had been victims of terrorist attacks that used chemical and nuclear weapons in the aftermath of President Long’s decree to kill any non-atheists who did not denounce their religion.
We were told there was a chance that we could catch mild radiation, but it was a better option than leaving the tunnels to face certain death in any other city along the East Coast. And it was only a matter of time before they destroyed the other tunnels connecting the cities that were east of Pittsburgh, so we hurried towards New Jersey; San Diego was not an option given our location so we headed for New Jersey.
This was when my father came up with the plan to contact an old friend once we left the tunnels. I sometimes wonder if Joan was playing a long con on us; I mean, I never got any radiation sickness during the week we spent in New Jersey, but I am almost certain that she became one of us and did not stab us in the back.
I grew close to her. She became a part of our community but she did not believe in God. When you’ve spent your entire life surrounded by those who share your faith, even with all the death and destruction that stained our life, it is easier to retain you
r faith in our great Lord. The only counterpoint we had was a Godless society who had made their primary purpose the annihilation of all religions, which hardly sold me on the concept that our world came into creation without God.
And although there were others before Joan, they were afraid to express their beliefs out of guilt and fear. Joan wasn’t afraid of anything and had this steely demeanour that combined with a contagious kindness that endeared her to all of us. By that time we met her, I was among the top three gunmen in our camp, but she put us all to shame. We would often keep watch together, and the things we discussed were among the most interesting conversations I’d ever had. Unwittingly, it was also excellent preparation for the trial I just stood. Of the many conversations we had, the first one still stands out:
“So what’s it like up there?”
“You mean Jeff and Skylar don’t talk about it?”
“Nuh-ah. They’re afraid the slightest mention of the world above will see them get their heads blown off.”
“Should they be afraid?”
“Of course not! Well, as long as they don’t talk about that stuff with the some of the elder members of our group.”
“I’ve got a little theory about that. Those of your people who have spent the most time above ground, who’ve led a uh, different life in a house where they can provide their kids with fresh food and a proper bed, they seem the most angry...”
“Can you blame them? They lost so much.”
“That’s not what I meant; maybe we should talk about something else.”
“No, go on, sorry.”
“I think some of the youngsters, like yourself, have only known life underground so you don’t know how much more comfortable life is above. I’ve been with your people for a couple of weeks, but I can already tell you that I’ll never settle into these tunnels, even if you were to make me to stay here for the next fifty years.