The Lost City

by Carrie E. Gruhn

  “Tanya, what is it? You frightened me!” Mother came running.

  “I’m sorry, Mother, but it was Damon who just spoke. He is beside himself with rage! Mother, it was true! The two prophets were killed! Damon did order their bodies left in the streets as a warning to all who had listened to them or who had wavered between him and God.”

  “It seems impossible, yet God moves in mysterious ways, Tanya, as we well know. Surely, God must have some plan; if it called for those two mighty prophets, who have tested of heaven itself, to die at last, it is not ours to question.”

  “How like you, Mother, to see only God’s hand where others would see confusion!” I smiled at her affectionately, but hurriedly gave her a brief summary of what I had heard. “And as usual you are right. It must have all been part of God’s plan. But the two prophets are no longer dead. They have been raised up—even after the flies had swarmed to—to—” I shuddered as I spoke and was glad to permit the radio to take over the story I could not tell.

  “—and the Prince does not want any part of today’s activities withheld from his loyal followers, nor from those who defy him. The punishment and power which he has been withholding he will no longer withhold! By a series of coincidences the victory has seemed to go to the handful who refuse to obey, but those fortunate-for-them accidents cannot continue indefinitely. In fact time sands are fast running out against their continuing. We know about the earthquake that has temporarily stopped our avenging armies from taking that city where so many fled. Make sure it is only a temporary respite. The same fortunate stroke that destroyed the army today has opened to us a wide and clear path which will make the taking of that city that much easier when it pleases the Prince to do so!”

  Aghast, I realized that our communication system must have been open to Damon’s headquarters. They had heard all.

  But the broadcast had gone on to other things—“As to the unusual phenomena, of dead bodies becoming alive, which has seemed to have taken place, setting any number of hysterical weaklings agog in Jerusalem, the Prince has something to say, as you doubtless know, if you listened to his eloquent appeal of a few moments ago. However, for the benefit of those who have just tuned in, let me tell briefly what has taken place in Jerusalem, today. The Prince has no fear of the truth, therefore it is his express wish that you hear all the details. Draw your conclusions after hearing the fantastic tale the deceitful ‘believers’ would have you believe!

  “As you know, the two men were left for dead and not moved by orders of the Prince. He wished all who had aught against them to have opportunity to view their degradation and also to vent their feelings against them. Another reason was behind his command—his keen insight foresaw that the deluded followers of these prophets would seek to see for themselves, perhaps even to try some sort of trick such as that which was perpetrated by them today! Perhaps you prefer to believe that the two men were mistakenly thought to be dead—or that their mourners trapped within the gates, by the maudlin sentiment that Damon counted on, somehow stole the bodies and replaced them with two not dead—or that a mass hypnotism has captured many, making them believe what some fools started shouting, namely, that the two men did rise from death and are now alive! These fanatics will stoop to anything in order to gain followers! The real point is this—Damon’s ruse worked! The city is filled with followers of these prophets. It was not Damon’s intent, however, that the celebrants be trapped with the mourners. That is one of the misfortunes of war. It is war to the finish between our great and glorious Prince and the God the two prophets claimed to represent! We ask, where was their God while they were being killed? Where was their God when the people passed endlessly to spit on their fly-blackened bodies or to plant the well-aimed kicks and prods? A fitting incense they raised with their stench in the hot city streets. Thousands came to view their downfall!

  “Imagine if you can, the sudden angry departure of the gorged and swollen flies from a feast of three days! Imagine if you can.” The sarcasm in the announcer’s voice made a mockery of the tale. “Imagine if you can the sudden stirring under filthy, reeking rags, then the wonderful arising of white-clad men, whole and unblemished. Well, that is the story you are asked to believe! The two men, who were so dead that they could no longer be recognized as men, those two men are supposed to be in the streets of Jerusalem at this very moment, calling for more followers from among the weak-minded and the perverted! At least it can be said that the fanatics have imagination, also a certain misguided sense of loyalty!

  “That loyalty drew them into the trap now closed and an army even now encompasses the city to complete the destruction of those caught within. Even the pretended celebrants seem to have had their share of the wishy-washy weaklings.

  It is utterly impossible to separate the loyal followers of Damon from the deluded disloyal who have been caught together in the trap. Long has Jerusalem been called the Holy City and designated as God’s city—well, it is Damon’s city, henceforth to do with as he sees fit. Since it reeks with the cheap dramatics of thousands, who would prefer to follow dead men, let them join their leaders in death!”

  In our minds we could picture the close-packed, narrow streets of Jerusalem. It was not hard to picture the drunken lewdness, the hot gutters where had lain the two bodies. We could sense the silent shadows that lurked unmolested, and seemingly unnoticed, in the midst of the milling frenzied celebrants. We visualized the glitter of avid eyes behind curtain and shutter watching, counting and tabulating each newcomer until the ultimate number should be drawn relentlessly into Damon’s trap.

  “It must have been wonderful, Tanya, when the flies suddenly were routed from the quickening bodies! Those nearest must have had to fight to keep the ugly things away from themselves!”

  “I can see it, too. Mother! The shining whiteness as filthy rags fell away and white-robed men rose up before their very eyes! Men must have been filled with fear and some turned to God before this new evidence of almighty power! But, oh, Mother! Do you think Jerusalem will be protected as we have been here?”

  “Who shall say, Tanya? Ours is not to question God’s way, but to follow, not just halfway but all the way! Wherever and whenever He directs us. One thing is sure, Damon will unleash all his fury now on Jerusalem. When he has finished, if he is allowed to finish, he will turn again to us. I think Simon should know about this, if already he has not heard.”

  “I will go. You stay here with Toni, Mother. The moon is bright, although the way is not easy.”

  I went as quickly as I could, to the temple at the portal, found Simon and the others about to leave the radio room. Apprehensively I looked toward that intricate keyboard. Simon smiled.

  “You heard, too, I think, Tanya?”

  “That is why I came.”

  “We found the key open shortly after our return. We have listened. Damon boasts tonight, but forgets that night will not always hold—dawn must follow every night. Pray God to shorten this night for Jerusalem’s sake!”

  As we walked back to our apartments they told of discoveries in Lilah’s papers. Perhaps the greatest discovery was of the post lists and the personnel of each watch. There was an unfilled hour of which Lilah alone knew! Even if Simon or I had pressed the buttons in that portal temple room we would not have received any response from the posts on various levels, supposedly protecting the gorge!

  The army had entered the wadi in single file, the guard had been recalled because its time was up, but Lilah had sent no other watch in its place! Thus, but for the intervention of God the army would have invaded our valley without any resistance whatever! So, too, unknown to Lilah, because of her careful planning not one of our number was lost! No wonder there had been no weeping! Peace—God’s peace was come upon us and soon it must fill the whole world! Night must soon be past and the day of rejoicing at hand!

  The moon reliquished her reign, not to the sun, but to rolling black thunderclouds that rumbled and through which tore the zigzagging, fiery light
ning. Restless and tense with the gathering pressure which we felt all around, we had slept little. With one accord we came out of our separate shelters to gather in the great amphitheater which suggested a fitting arena for the struggling elements. The black clouds dipped down and cast an ever-deepening gloom over the valley then they twisted and tore at the mountain and cliff tops. Dislodged rocks and bushes hurtled down the steep rock walls without harm to anyone. Barely audible in such frenzy of sound were the voices of those who stood closest to us, yet peering through the dim light at our people we saw countless thousands of lips moving. We knew that songs of prayer and praise were rising to God. Not for ourselves were those prayers but for God’s Holy City.

  We were not afraid for ourselves as the storm gathered momentum and roared an ever-deepening threat. Hidden in its fury we saw the hand of God and knew that now it was shaking the heavens even as yesterday it had shaken the earth. The storm sped past us, but the sun hung again in a heavy pall. After the storm a terrible oppressive quietness settled around us. It was as if we had just heard God’s voice and it was not the still small voice of long ago, but a soul-shattering voice—“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.” Surely this was the day of His vengeance!

  How narrowly had we escaped the judgment being pronounced upon the earth! How magnificent and wonderful is our God, for we know in whom we have put our trust! He is able and willing to keep us against this day! How wonderful and awful is the day of judgment, yet how easy the way of escape! “I am the Way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by Me.”1 Covered by His blood and not marked for the Beast! “Oh, how wonderful and mysterious are Thy ways, O God! Let me walk forever in Thy way, O Jehovah, O Christ, Messiah and Saviour! Reign Thou in my heart and on the earth forever and forever, Amen!”

  We followed the course of the storm with our prayers; then as some returned to their shelters to continue to call on God some of us followed on up to the rim. To the highest point we climbed, seeking to peer across the miles to the city which was being besieged by the Prince and the Beast! A telescope had been set in the rocks and we swung it to follow the course of the storm. If only Jerusalem could be brought into our vision! Yet we shuddered, knowing something of the picture we would see if that were possible.

  The clouds suddenly seemed to lift as if to lengthen the span of our vision. Away in the distance, yet so tremendous as to be easily discernible, we saw the storm breaking along the edges giving just a hint of the fury which was at its center. Like a cold, grey, steel curtain, crisscrossed with flaming scarlet threads it fell and shut off the farther view from our straining eyes. Shock after shock shook the earth beneath our feet. An icy blast swept backwards from the grey wall of the storm, setting our teeth to chattering, numbing our feet and hands.

  “Perhaps the radio will have something to tell us.” Mother shivered and Simon nodded, grimly.

  “Perhaps, but I doubt if we will be able to get much satisfiaction from it. There will be too much interference. However, it is folly to stand here and freeze trying to look across the miles!”

  One last look Simon gave toward Jerusalem, then I heard him recite slowly:

  “‘Thrust in thy sharp sickle, and gather the clusters of the vine of the earth; for her grapes are fully ripe … and cast it into the great winepress of the wrath of God! And the winepress was trodden without the city, and blood came out of the winepress … Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord!’”2

  Silently we came down from the mountain lost in the thoughts Simon’s quoted words had brought to each of us. In our hearts had always been a love and pride for Jerusalem. Never in all the centuries had it relinquished its place as the accepted Holy City. The Mohammedans had had their Mecca, the Tibetans their Lassa, but it was Jerusalem to which most of the world had turned, and it was our city—or rather the city set apart by God, in whose streets and very stones were hidden our hopes and our history, past and present.

  Now within that city thousands were caught in the cleverly devised web. Clotted and hindered by their own numbers it would be almost impossible to achieve any sort of order or direction. Outside the walls the Prince’s army was massed and we knew that the sickle would gather good fruit and bad until they could be separated one from the other. The earth protested and groaned as ruby-red and pulsing, the wine was beginning to flow that must deepen and spread, and deepen more until the last of the fruit should be harvested.

  The radios were loud with static. The electrical storm was bombarding the earth far to the north. But some isolated bits of news came to us giving enough of the picture. The storm had broken just south of Jerusalem, it seemed, and swiftly encircled it. The great image must have been taking the brunt of the lightning attack for from within its broadcasting room high up inside came blasting defiance now and again.

  “—the Beast hurls defiance at the elements. The image stands unscathed as thunderbolts shake the earth all about it. It will take more than puny lightning to penetrate and damage our Prince’s handiwork!—in Damon’s hands are atomic secrets that will reach up and blast God out of heaven! In his hands, too, are the shields that will protect us from the same radioactivity that will destroy those who refuse his protection!—Let the thunderbolts continue to rain down upon the image! The shielded insulation will turn them back against the very elements that send them!—” The storm closed in cutting off the broadcast but we sat, wordlessly awaiting the lulls for more news, feeling the earth grind and quiver under heavy shocks in close succession as to become an almost continuous tremor.

  A confused jumble of sounds came off and on, then startlingly clear—“Repent and know that God is very God indeed! Look up and see His judgment riding on the clouds! Behold Messiah returns to take vengeance into His nail-pierced hands! Hide under His shadow. Believe and be cleansed in His blood once shed for you before too late! The nations are angry and His wrath is come and none shall stay it, no not the Prince nor his armies encompassing the city, nor the Beast who bears the sword wound, nor the great image that stands proudly on yonder hill! Know ye the Lord, call upon His Holy name!” A new silence fell upon us broken by the barely audible, “Praise God!” and “Blessed is the name of Christ our Lord.” The moment following was fraught with expectancy, so that even the storm’s voice was stilled, then a mighty voice nevertheless filled with such gentleness, love, and compassion that we did not need the testimony of the awed spectators to know whose voice it was called, “Come up hither!”

  There was a stillness eloquent of gaping, awestruck faces, doubtless, upturned to watch the prophets answering the call. A great shout went up, “Look, look, they are nearly gone in that shining cloud!”—a curse cut across the airwaves and we heard no more.

  1. John 14:6.

  2. Revelation 14:18, 20; Matthew 23:37-39.

  30

  THE NIGHT DEEPENS

  A NEW, FROM THE BROADCASTING STATION which had unwittingly allowed us to hear the things that were taking place within Jerusalem’s walls, came repercussion and tirade as a man-made storm broke about the ears of the hapless operators. We smiled a little but a very little. A new voice came suavely to us and it was not conducive to laughter.

  “You have just been subjected to a dramatic rehearsal of another fantasy conceived in the infantile minds who infest the city. It is such child’s play that our Prince is impelled to create a purge. A bizarre note puts a contradictory finger on the pretty little scene just enacted for your benefit! The clouds have parted a little and from high up there in the great image we can look down directly into the city. It is shaking in the throes of another earthquake—the city seems to be turning in upon itself! Yes, an earthquake is the answer their
God is giving to their praise! The scene is blotting out under the pall of dust rising from the debris. It is impossible to estimate the damage. Whatever the score, it will be certain to be high because the crowds were heavy in that section! We salute your marksmanship, God! A right worthy hit!”

  “Simon! Do you think?—Why?” I could only stammer.

  “The city swarms with drunken madmen, Tanya. Not all within its gates repented—not all gave ear to the prophets. What of those who already wear the Mark of the Beast? The Prince said the city was filled with people who had flocked to dance near or upon the bodies of the men they thought conquered!”

  “And God’s finger draws a sharp line, as we well know, my daughter.” Mother gave me that answer and I was ashamed of my blindness.

  Ear deafening static interferences came next so we reluctantly went about the mundane activities of housekeeping and gardening, harvesting and milking. We were restless and sober, unable to keep our minds away from the beleaguered city and the storm that still brewed. Now and again other reports did come through, but they were meager repetitions telling little, suggesting much.

  I found the grapes heavy and swollen with ripe sweetness but I was glad for the task they set my hands. My hands were busy, yet my mind was busy, too. How were the people faring in the city? How long could they last without foodstuff? Even if it came, how would they buy without the hated mark and without the exorbitant prices asked for the smallest portion? What of the water supply? With the pipe lines extending out where they could be cut by Damon’s command I felt my own throat parching in arid dustiness stirred up by a dangerous, over-assembling of people.

  “Oh Lord, how long? How long?” I held a cup of clear cold water in my hands but I could not drink. I seemed to hear the wailing of little children begging for water, to see mothers desperately turning faucets or visiting fountains seeking one drop to slake the thirst of their little ones while they themselves still thirsted.