“You think this will happen?” Naomi asked, staring at Gabriel.
“I do not know all God’s reasons. But I deliver all his messages.” The angel’s eyes settled on me. “Your dreams frighten you. They test you, and you have not run from them yet. You find your way into them.”
As clear as an angel could be. It had to mean we were on track to reach Jerusalem, to face the dragon. “When we go to the city, will you come with us?”
“Yes. You have prayed for our protection. You will have it. Friends of yours are waiting there.”
Friends. For some reason the word made me think of school, of Adam and Hoff and the others. I hadn’t seen them since the sailboat. They would have gone to Babylon. Now where would they be?
Aisha’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Your dream. It was Jerusalem?”
I looked from her to Naomi. “Yes.”
Naomi tilted her head down at her sleeping child, clutched tight to her chest. “To Jerusalem,” she whispered. “It all ends in Jerusalem. God, please give us strength.”
WE BROKE CAMP at sunrise. The light streamed over the low cliff on the opposite side of the river, making even the dry brown land around us seem golden. Gabriel was standing at the river’s edge, his face toward the sun. Laoth held Aisha and was helping the other women into the back of the truck. Dumah started the engine.
“It’s time!” Laoth called out.
Gabriel turned and began walking to her. His face was radiant, glorious. As he passed, he glanced at me knowingly, no doubt seeing the wonder in my eyes. “Let the Lord shine His face upon you, too. Come on, you’ll ride in the front with Dumah and Naomi.”
“What about you?” I asked, following after him to the truck.
“I’ll be on top.”
Right, so he’d just cling to the roof.
He ignored my skeptical look. “Comfort Naomi,” he said softly. “She is afraid, though she won’t admit it. Even with her strong faith, she can have doubts. And speak up if you see anything dark. Do you understand?”
“Got it.”
“Good.” He opened the passenger door. “Hop in. I’ll bring Naomi.”
I climbed inside. Dumah was sitting behind the wheel, huge and silent as always.
“Good morning.”
He nodded. No words.
“So, how’d you get the truck to work?”
He didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. He reached over to me, put his powerful hand on my shoulder, and gave it a light squeeze. Was that a tiny curl of his lip? Maybe he thought it was funny. But then he put his hands back on the wheel and looked out the windshield. So much for talking to Dumah.
Naomi joined us soon after that, holding the baby. “Good morning.”
“You look beautiful.”
She laughed. “Must have been that sweet beauty sleep. I found a great spot between a few rocks.”
I slid over to the middle of the seat. “Where have you been?” I asked as she climbed in. Her makeshift bed had been empty when Laoth woke me.
“Praying.” She pointed outside the truck, up a hill to the right. “There’s a magnificent view. You can see where the Jordan meets the Dead Sea, and the desert stretches as far as you can see to the east. The sun rose over the barren hills and dunes into the distance, making them yellow and amber and pink. We’ve taken our sunrises for granted.”
“You think this will all be gone soon?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s all going to be replaced. It’s going to be far better. I want to remember the beauty here, so I can fully appreciate the difference.”
“You mean the new heavens and the new earth? I read something about that.”
She nodded. “Think of what we’ve seen. Angels of the Lord, here with us. I have faith in His Word. He will come again, and soon.”
“Like today soon?”
A tap on the top of the truck interrupted us. Gabriel’s head appeared, upside down, in front of us. He motioned to Dumah and pulled his head away. Dumah slammed his foot on the gas. We surged forward over the rough terrain. I pressed back against the seat and put on my seatbelt. Naomi did the same, then hugged the baby at her chest.
With Dumah’s hands on the wheel and foot on the pedal, we dodged a thousand boulders and cracks in the hard ground. It wasn’t long before we reached a road. We wheeled left onto it, heading west. A sign said something in Arabic, but at least it had a number I could read: “1.” The road into Jerusalem.
The jarring bumps ceased. The truck’s tires churned smooth pavement. “Why so fast?” I asked, finally able to speak without my jaw shaking.
Dumah of course gave no answer. “I think Gabriel told him to hurry,” Naomi said. “Another angel visited him early this morning. There must have been a message.”
“Another angel? How do you know?”
“I saw him beside Gabriel, and then an instant later he was gone, like a flash of light.”
I remembered something like it on Patmos months ago. “What if it was Jesus?”
“It could have been,” she said, excited. “You asked if I thought today might be the last day, and I’ve been thinking about it. This really could be it. Why not?”
“The earth has had a lot of days. Today is, what, something in late December? What’s so special about that?”
“Think about Don,” she said. “You’re always telling me he’s trying to take what God created and twist it. Wouldn’t he want to make Jerusalem his last stand?”
“There are a lot of prophecies and theories about the city.”
“No, it’s not that. God cares about everything, not just one city, not even Jerusalem. The order thinks the end could happen anywhere, and actually, that it will happen everywhere.”
“So why would Don set himself up in Jerusalem? Why would my dream have been there?”
“All who believe in God revere the city. We have the cross—it’s the city where Jesus died and rose again. The Jewish people have the Western Wall. The Muslims have the Dome of the Rock, where they think Muhammad rose to heaven. What better place for Don to try to declare, once and for all, that he is god of the earth?”
“Maybe,” I said. There was a logic to it. “But you think Jesus will come again here just because Don is here?”
“I think the Lord will come everywhere, all at once.”
The truck swerved hard right, swiping past a burnt-out car on the side of the road. I saw figures far ahead. People walking along the road. It made me think of the dream with my Mom, of the bodies piled up below the towers in Jerusalem.
“What about the baby?” I asked. “What do you think my dream means?”
Naomi didn’t answer at first. She looked down at her son, and he looked up at her. “We all have our role. I never expected to have this precious boy. I still think his innocence holds some answer to Don’s plans. Don doesn’t know God’s plan, but we don’t exactly know it, either. I’m praying that God will show me my role, and that I will have the strength to do it.”
The truck began to slow.
I looked ahead as more people came into view. The brownish-white hills steepened around us, and the dark figures became all the more clear. I saw the people wore scraps for clothing, or nothing at all. Their heads were shaved bald, like Alexi’s. Most of them had nothing on their backs. Not a weapon was in sight.
One man carried a little girl on his shoulders. The bottoms of her feet were black and bloody. I imagined those little feet submerged in fluid, trapped in a capsule, while the girl’s mind flipped about in childish fantasies for weeks—chocolate and candy, princesses and ponies—until her impulses drove her deeper and deeper in her quest for satisfaction. However far her mind had descended, yesterday her dreamworld bubble must have popped. The capsule would have opened, and the little girl would have somehow climbed down a tower until her pale and pruned feet touched the ground. Those little feet were no match for this black pavement.
Blank stares met us as we passed. Men and women continued in the opposite direct
ion and looked as if they wanted nothing to do with the city we approached.
Eventually I closed my eyes, unable to bear what I saw. “It makes no sense. They’re not even trying to stop us.”
“They’re broken … defeated,” Naomi replied.
My eyes opened. I winced at a sight on the left side of the road. Two bodies, a child’s beside a woman’s, facedown on the pavement, with black birds flocking around them. I tried to keep my mouth shut, hoping Naomi wouldn’t notice. She was gazing out the other side of the truck.
“This is the apocalypse,” she whispered. “It’s not chaos, not fighting. It’s despair, souls robbed of their will to live. Don did it. He hauled them into his virtual world, he harvested their bodies.” Tears had filled her eyes. “Just look at them.”
We passed a family on the right. The father held a motionless child. The mother clung to him, on her knees, while four naked children huddled behind her.
“We have to do something.” Naomi turned to me, wet streaks down her face. Her eyes passed to Dumah. “Please, can’t we stop and help?”
The angel’s fists were tight on the wheel, but he turned his head just a fraction toward us. Tears streamed from his eyes, too. He shook his head once, then looked ahead again.
“Please Lord,” Naomi prayed, “come soon.”
WE PASSED HUNDREDS, thousands, as we made our way up the hill that ringed Jerusalem’s eastern border. We couldn’t see the city on the other side of the hill, but we could see Don’s towers. Dozens of them stabbed hundreds of feet into the sky. The towers of Babylon.
We were halfway up the hill when Dumah turned off the highway.
“Where are we going?” Naomi asked.
Dumah didn’t answer.
“This is the West Bank.” I eyed the decaying apartment buildings around us. Their white plaster wore the dirt of decades. “The people here have suffered for years. I remember coming here once with my Mom and Dad, when I was little. We brought toys and candy for the kids. They were poor but happy. It’s weird, but I remember thinking they seemed happier than I was. Does that make sense?”
“Kids don’t care about things like money,” Naomi said. “I think that’s one of the reasons Jesus told us to be like them. They can be happy without a thing in the world. They just want to explore and find adventure and be loved.”
“I bet you were a happy kid.”
“Happy as I could be.” She stared down at her sleeping baby. “My dad walked away from the money and the fame. He cared more about us than all that.”
“My dad had it backwards.”
“Most people do.” The truck rounded a switchback curve.
“But he still did good things,” I said. “I think he always felt a little guilty about his fortune. It was different with my mom. She cared about the people, and her loyalty to this land ran deep. She was the one who suggested coming here with the toys. The kids were so happy, running everywhere, throwing the balls we gave them. Now look at these buildings. It feels like a ghost town.”
The truck climbed a steep road and entered a tight cluster of apartments. One of Don’s spires loomed ahead, on the crest of the hill. Naomi spoke softly: “I guess they all went to Babylon. Remember the video we saw in Don’s palace? His machines moved their bodies into these towers. How do you think they got down?”
“They climbed. Some might have jumped.”
“But not all,” Gabriel said, appearing beside Naomi’s open window. “People have a little longer to repent.” He pointed to a building ahead. “We are pulling into this garage. Laoth, Dumah, and I will join our kind, securing the perimeter. Go to the fourth floor. You will stay here tonight.”
“What’s going on?” Naomi asked.
“Your father will tell you more.” With that, the angel’s face disappeared from view and the truck rolled to a stop. Dumah hopped out of the truck and we did the same.
Naomi and I went to the back of the truck to get the women. I pulled back the canvas flap.
Aisha’s tired eyes met mine. “Where are we?”
“We’re not sure, but it sounds like this building is a safe place.” I paused, glancing down at Aisha’s legs as the other Muslim women climbed out, talking quietly in Arabic.
She nodded to me, and we understood each other. I picked her up. She was light, her small frame hanging fragile in my arms. The group of us entered the building, walked up four flights of stairs, and found ourselves on a plain balcony.
I took a few steps forward, realizing there were at least a dozen doors. I looked back to Naomi. “Gabriel didn’t say which door we should enter.”
She was studying the first door. Number 41. “It must not matter,” she said. “Let’s try this one.” She knocked.
Moments later the door cracked open. Naomi gave a little shout and dashed through. The women filed in after her. I carried Aisha in last.
Naomi was in her father Moses’s arms. I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying. Maybe both, but she sounded happy. His huge hands held tight to her and the baby.
Beyond them, the room was open for the entire floor of the apartment building. A hundred cots were lined up in rows along the walls. In the center was a makeshift circle of folding chairs.
“Elijah!”
I turned toward the familiar voice. Brie swept me into her arms, squeezing Aisha between us. Her long blonde hair smelled of fresh soap, making me realize how filthy we were.
“You made it out!” She released me and smiled down at Aisha. “Sorry about that. I’m Brie. What’s your name?”
“Aisha.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Brie said. “Come, please, we were just about to eat. Are you hungry?”
Brie and others sprang into a flurry of motion. One woman spoke Arabic to the group with us. Whatever she said made them smile. A man gently took Aisha in his arms and carried her to the other side of the room, where others were getting medical help.
Brie escorted Naomi and me into the center of the room. We joined several others who were sitting there. I breathed easier knowing we’d found another hideout of the order, but despite the warm welcome, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d entered a war shelter.
“How many leaders are left?” I asked. Don had wanted them all dead.
Moses sighed. “Two.”
“My husband Chris is in Jerusalem, over the hill,” Brie said. “He’s trying to build alliances with the remaining faithful, or with anyone who will oppose Don. Many Jewish and Muslim people have joined us. Few doubt that the end is coming soon.”
“Which other leader is still alive?”
Brie and Moses exchanged a look. They didn’t answer.
“We saw Ronaldo in Don’s palace.” Naomi’s voice held a hint of dread.
Moses put his hand on her shoulder. “We lost him.”
My throat tightened. I tried to swallow but couldn’t. “How?”
Brie spoke: “When Don staged his last attack on Tehran, a few of us made it into his palace with drones. We made it to the wing where Ronaldo and others were imprisoned. We managed to blow open a couple doors, and inside one of them, we … found Ronaldo.” She swallowed. “He had already joined the Lord.”
Naomi sniffed and wiped her eyes. Moses held her tight. I tried not to think about that brutal guard being sent into the prison cell of a man in shackles. I wouldn’t think about the cheery Brazilian on a sailboat, or about his ukulele and bare feet and open smile. I wouldn’t think about where I’d be without him, or about the tears filling my eyes. No, I wouldn’t think any of those things. Not now.
“I’m so sorry,” Brie continued. “There was nothing we could do after that. It was just moments before Don’s machines were on us. They blew through our drones like wildfire.”
“The doors,” I said slowly. “When you blew them open—what else did you find?”
“Not much,” Brie answered. “Another prisoner was there. He was in good, strong shape, but I didn’t even catch his name before my dr
one was taken out. I doubt he made it.”
I saw in my mind those fiery eyes behind prison doors. “You may have helped save us.”
“How?”
“Don had locked up angels there. It wasn’t a normal prison. He had demons on guard. Ronaldo told us they could have been detained like the Prince of Persia had once detained Michael.”
“I prayed God would work through our defeat,” Moses said, looking to Brie. “We knew He could use our loss for gain. I bet that man you released was an angel. Maybe he released the others.”
“It’s possible,” Brie mused.
“After the flare, the angels brought us to you,” Naomi said. “They looked like normal people to me, but Elijah could see hints of their spirit form.”
The group of them looked to me. I nodded, glancing around at the new faces. The others had been listening to us quietly. “You said another leader is alive?”
“I am.” It was an old Asian man. His beard hung to his knees like a spindly waterfall. “My name is Zhang Tao.” He was studying me knowingly.
Something about his gaze made me relax. “Have we met?”
“Briefly,” Naomi said. “In the order’s hideaway, the one in the cave, Zhang Tao was there.”
“He is our wisest leader,” Moses added.
“The oldest, at least.” Zhang Tao grinned. “I will tell you my story.”
“OUR CHURCH WAS among the order’s strongest,” Zhang Tao began. “In China, the government was always against us, much as it was in your country, but with a firm rod to enforce the law. We had no option but to rely on each other and to trust in God. For every person the government killed, two converts took the martyr’s place. We praised God for it, as Peter told us to do. Rejoice when grieved by trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
“Our church grew to millions, and grew more. We reached one hundred million, and then even the government had to let us be. Oh, they forced us to be quiet in the ways of today—we had no precepts, no connections to the global mind—but we grew through something purer. We showed our neighbors what we were. The countryside of China became our domain, for few who saw the love of Christ in us could resist the Lord’s call.”
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