Judd studied the structures behind the apartment complex. “It could be in any of those, and they’re all guarded.”
The two ran back to the hotel and squeezed into a phone booth. Judd dialed the Wongs’ apartment, and Mrs. Wong answered on the first ring. She sounded upset.
“Mrs. Wong, where’s Chang?”
The woman sniffed. “Who is this?”
“I’m Chang’s friend. I know your husband didn’t want me to call, but I’m concerned about—”
“They take him away just now. He so scared, they give him something to make him calm.”
“They drugged him? Why?”
“He afraid of needle. They only try to make him calm.”
“What needle? Where did they take him?”
“I’m not sure which building. They have meeting later, after Chang get mark.”
Judd felt the air go out of the phone booth. Lionel asked what was wrong, but Judd couldn’t speak. If they tried to give Chang Carpathia’s mark, he wouldn’t accept it. They would find out he was a believer in Christ and use the guillotine.
“You still there?” Mrs. Wong said.
“Yes,” Judd choked.
“Everything will be all right. I talk with Chang. He take mark and everything be okay.”
Judd placed the phone on the cradle and muttered, “No, it won’t be okay.” He told Lionel what Mrs. Wong had said.
Lionel slammed his fist against a wall, and several guests in the hotel glared at him. He slumped over. “I guess we’re too late.”
Judd and Lionel went up to Z-Van’s penthouse suite and found Westin Jakes, Z-Van’s pilot. The man grimaced when he heard about Chang. “We can’t give up. Maybe they haven’t given him the mark yet.”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Lionel said.
“Do you know anyone else inside the GC?”
Judd shook his head. “Wait. I met this Peacekeeper a few days ago and promised to get Z-Van’s autograph. Maybe he could help us.”
Judd dug a card out of his pocket and read the name Roy Donaldson. “He told me he was originally from Florida.”
Westin took the name and grabbed a pen and some paper from a nearby desk. “Call him and ask him to meet you in front of the apartments. I’ll see if Z-Van’s in good enough shape to scribble his name.”
Vicki immediately called Jim Dekker’s house in Illinois and explained the Iowa situation to Conrad. After she had talked with Jim, the man agreed to supply uniforms 13 and IDs. Colin Dial would continue to pose as Commander Blakely, and they would travel in the van that already bore the GC insignia.
“How fast can you guys get here?” Conrad said.
“We’re on our way,” Vicki said.
Judd and Lionel found Peacekeeper Roy Donaldson pacing in front of the GC apartment building. Lionel shook hands with him and said, “So you’re a big Z-Van fan?”
Roy smiled. “You bet. I liked him even before he started singing about the potentate, but I can’t wait for his new album.”
Judd pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and gave it to Roy. He unfolded it carefully, like it was a priceless artifact. “‘To Roy,’” he read aloud. “‘He is risen.’”
At the bottom of the page was Z-Van’s scrawled signature. Judd wanted to tell Roy that the singer’s real name was Myron and that he was a jerk, but Judd didn’t have the heart or the time.
“How about a little favor?” Judd said.
“Name it.”
“Where are they giving employees the mark?”
Roy pointed to a building behind the apartments. “Building D. Man, I can’t wait to get mine. I’m scheduled for this afternoon, but they may not be able to get to me until tomorrow.”
“Could you take us there?”
Roy studied the autograph again. “After this, I’ll do anything for you guys. Come on.”
As they walked, Judd asked if Roy had heard anything about a potential employee named Chang Wong.
Roy stopped. “Don’t tell me you know him too.”
Judd smiled. “Yeah, he’s a friend of mine.”
Roy shook his head. “Kid’s just a teenager like us and he’s already a celebrity. A friend of mine works in the department looking at him. I hear this Wong kid’s a genius with computers.”
“He’s a pretty nice guy too,” Judd said.
“He seemed kind of uppity to me.”
“You’ve met him?”
“I just saw him earlier.” Roy pointed out the entrance and a line of employees snaking through the front door. People on the sidewalk craned their necks to see how much farther until they were inside.
“Wait,” Judd said, grabbing Roy’s arm. “You saw Chang?”
“Yeah, I got a look at him walking with Walter Moon and some other guy heading upstairs. I know it sounds like sour grapes and all, and I understand why new hires are getting the mark first, but—”
“Chang already has the mark?”
Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I saw it, even with that stupid baseball cap he was wearing. He got a little 30 next to his eyebrows, nothing like what I’m going to have.”
“Are you sure it was him?” Lionel said.
Roy cocked his head. “You don’t see too many Asian kids around here who have the mark before other employees, do you? Of course I’m sure.”
Judd looked at Lionel and cringed.
“You want me to see if I can get you guys in D?”
“Not now,” Judd said.
“Well, don’t think you’re going to get a mark before us employees. Have you decided which one you’re getting?”
Judd shook his head and glanced at the employees waiting to seal their fates. They were like sheep being led to the slaughter, and they didn’t even know it.
Judd thanked Roy, and the Peacekeeper walked away clutching Z-Van’s autograph.
Lionel sat down hard on a bench. “I don’t get it. Tsion said God would give believers the strength they needed to resist taking the mark.”
“Maybe it’s not real,” Judd said. “Maybe Chang came up with a fake that convinced everybody.”
“Maybe. But there’s another possibility.”
“What’s that?”
“Maybe Chang is fake himself.”
Vicki rode with Mark and Shelly toward the farmhouse in McHenry, Illinois. Though the others had put up a fight, everyone finally agreed that it was best for a smaller group to help the teens in Iowa. Vicki felt tired but knew she wouldn’t sleep until they were in the van and headed west.
Vicki wept when she saw Bo and Ginny Shairton and Maggie Carlson. They hugged and shared stories. Maggie said she was worried about Natalie and wished the girl would leave the Des Plaines jail.
Vicki greeted Jim Dekker, the satellite operator who had helped her escape the GC chase, then shook hands with Manny Aguilara, the prisoner who had become a believer after talking with Zeke. She handed Colin Dial a letter from his wife.
Mark shook hands with Jim Dekker. “It’s a pleasure meeting the guy who came up with The Cube.”
Dekker smiled and thanked him.
“I hate to break up this admiration society meeting,” Conrad said, “but we don’t have much time.” He took the others to the basement and fitted them with Morale Monitor uniforms while Jim took their photos and created new ID cards.
Jim provided walkie-talkies and gave Mark a cell phone. “Make sure you keep in contact with us. Natalie will do what she can on her end, but we have to work together.”
The night was still and a wind had come up in the east as the kids loaded supplies and equipment into the van. Everyone gathered and joined hands. One by one they prayed for safety for the rescue group and the believers in Iowa. Manny, who had been part of the group only a short time, prayed, “God, we trust you to help your children. Show them where to go and what to do.”
Mark got behind the wheel for the first leg of the trip as Colin and Conrad explained the plan.
“How do we know they haven’t already applied
the mark?” Vicki said.
Colin shook his head. “Jim and Natalie diverted a shipment of injector machines. They were going to do the same thing to the guillotines, but for some reason ship- ments have been delayed in North Carolina, Florida, Iowa, and Tennessee. We don’t have any idea why.”
Vicki put her head on the seat and pulled a Morale Monitor jacket over her arms. The uniform felt stiff, and Vicki wondered about the girl who had worn it. Was she dead? Did the horsemen get her or perhaps the earthquake?
As the conversation continued in the front, Vicki felt sleep come over her. She thought of the kids in Iowa. They had to be terrified. And how long would it take the GC to realize that Commander Blakely was really Colin Dial, a Judah-ite in disguise?
Vicki prayed for the believers behind bars and asked God to help them. She also remembered Natalie and the shock she had gone through witnessing Zeke’s death. When Vicki had prayed for all the names and faces she could think of, she thought of Judd. She always kept him last. Sometimes she fell asleep praying for him and thinking of what he might be doing. She wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him. There were nights when she would dream of Judd standing up to Carpathia or telling strangers about God. Once she dreamed about his speech in front of Leon Fortunato at Nicolae High, and she woke up in a cold sweat.
Now, as she drifted in and out of sleep with the droning of the van’s engine, she prayed that God would protect Judd from the evil forces loose in New Babylon and the rest of the world. She knew from reading Tsion Ben-Judah’s letters that they weren’t just fighting against the Global Community.
Tsion had often quoted a verse from Ephesians, chapter 6 which said, “For we are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms.”
When Vicki thought of doing battle with those wicked spirits, another verse from Ephesians came to mind. “Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies and tricks of the Devil.” Carpathia’s mark was a deadly trick of the devil himself.
Mark tuned the radio to a news station and kept it low. The reporter repeated several stories about mark application sites in the United North American States being behind in their application of the mark on prisoners.
The cell phone rang and Mark picked up. After a few moments he hung up and slowed the van.
“What’s going on?” Vicki said.
“That was Jim Dekker. He’s changing our route.”
“Is something wrong?”
Mark shrugged. “Maybe it’s a roadblock.”
Vicki laid back and prayed again that God would protect them until they could help their friends in Iowa.
3
VICKI wanted to ask Jim Dekker why they were turning, but Mark shook his head. “Dekker said we’d understand when we got there.”
“But the kids in Iowa are going to die if we don’t get there in time!”
“I understand. Jim does too. But he still told us to take a different road.”
Headlights flashed on downed trees and an open field. Crude crosses rose from mounds of earth. Vicki guessed it was a graveyard filled with bodies of people killed by the earthquake, the horsemen, or some other disaster.
Mark had planned on taking back roads, concerned that a GC squad car might stop them, but Jim Dekker’s call had taken them onto an interstate. They passed an 18-wheeler and a few cars but saw no GC.
They had been driving on the interstate a half hour when they came to the mile marker Dekker had given. Mark pulled into the entrance of an abandoned weigh station and stopped.
“What now?” Vicki said.
Mark took out the cell phone. “I don’t like this any more than you. I’m calling Dekker.”
Mark had the phone opened and was dialing when Vicki noticed headlights behind them. Colin Dial told everyone to get down.
“He led us into a trap,” Conrad said.
“Just stay calm,” Colin said.
Air brakes whooshed behind them. Mark stayed behind the wheel, ready to pull away. Colin got out of the van and walked back toward the truck.
“Can you see who it is?” Shelly whispered to Vicki.
Vicki crawled to the rear of the van and peeked over the equipment and uniforms stacked on the backseat. She shielded her eyes but couldn’t see anything because of the glare. “I think it’s the truck we passed a few miles back.”
Colin’s footsteps crunched in the gravel by the road. He wore his commander’s uniform, and Vicki thought he played the part well. He walked confidently toward the truck, shielding his eyes, and yelled, “Cut your lights!”
A man yelled something to him, and Colin approached the driver.
“I don’t like this,” Shelly said.
Colin trotted up to Mark’s window and told him to move farther into the weigh station. Colin stood on the running board and stuck his head in Mark’s window. “Vicki, I need you out here.”
Judd and Lionel found a film crew and several security personnel clogging the hallway in front of Z-Van’s hotel suite. When they finally made it to the door, a man held up a hand. “Move along. This is a closed set.”
Judd scowled. “We’re staying here.”
“Right.” The man spoke into a walkie-talkie and two burly men approached.
“Westin, are you in there?” Lionel yelled.
The man at the door clamped a hand over Lionel’s mouth. “You want to make this easy or hard?”
Lionel struggled free, but the two men were on him. “Escort these gentlemen outside,” the man at the door said.
“Hold it,” Westin said, pushing his way through the crowd. “Those guys are with me.”
Judd and Lionel shook free of the men and stepped over cords and cables as they entered the room. Bright lights were set up near the piano, and a man with a handheld light meter moved around the room.
“What’s going on?” Lionel said.
“Ever heard of Lars Rahlmost?” Westin said.
Judd nodded. “I’ve seen a couple of his movies.”
Westin pointed to the corner where a blond-haired man in a leather jacket stood stroking a stubbly beard. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail that swished as he talked. Z-Van was next to him, smiling and laughing. “That’s him. He’s doing a documentary about Nicolae called From Death to Life. They’re interviewing Z-Van and are going to film some of his appearances in Israel.”
Judd took Westin into the next room and explained what they had seen and heard about Chang.
Westin sat on the bed. “I’m new to this. You’ve been telling me you can’t take this mark and still be a believer. What gives?”
“I don’t know,” Judd said. “Maybe we’ll clear the whole thing up when we talk to Chang.”
“You think that’s smart?” Lionel said. “He could be a plant by the GC.”
“He has the mark of the believer. There has to be an explanation.”
“Set up a meeting,” Westin said. “I’ll still get him out of here if he wants help.”
Judd phoned Chang’s number but there was no answer. He sent an e-mail asking Chang to get in touch as soon as possible.
Vicki climbed out of the van, her heart beating like a locomotive, and followed Colin. She noticed the truck had official GC insignias on its side and on the front license plate.
“What’s going on?” Vicki said.
“You’ll see,” Colin said, leading her to the front of the truck.
The driver’s door opened wide and a brawny man stepped out, his back to Vicki. He shook Colin’s hand and patted him on the shoulder. When he turned, Vicki’s mouth dropped open and her knees felt like they were going to buckle. “Pete!”
“Surprised to see me?” Pete Davidson said, hugging Vicki tightly.
“I haven’t seen you since before our trip west!” Vicki said.
“I read abou
t that on the Web site. You did pretty well for yourself, young lady.”
Vicki explained to Colin how Judd had become friends with Pete after the wrath of the Lamb earthquake.
“I’ve been driving for Chloe’s Trib Force co-op the last few months.”
“How did you—?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in the truck,” Pete said. “Hop in.”
Shelly joined Pete and Vicki as they got back on the road. Pete said he had e-mailed the kids and was going to stop at the schoolhouse, but Darrion had called his satellite phone and told him about the situation in Iowa. They had gotten the van and truck together using Jim Dekker’s satellite connection.
Vicki wanted to hear the latest from Pete, but she guessed Darrion hadn’t told him about Zeke Sr. Since Pete had known the man, he nearly drove off the road when he learned Zeke was dead. He got the rig back under control and drove in silence for a few minutes. The big man’s chin quivered when he finally spoke. “I called him Gus just to get on his nerves. His first name was Gustaf, you know. If there was any better man on the face of the earth, I never met him. He and his son took me in and never charged me a Nick for any fuel or supplies.”
As the miles rolled on, Pete told stories about Zeke and how generous he was. “You’d never know it by looking at him, but God made him real tender towards people. First time I met him I told my story of looking for my girlfriend after the earthquake. He listened for the longest time, then put his head down. I thought he had fallen asleep, but he was crying. He’d never met her, and he was sobbing like she was his own daughter.”
After a few more stories, Vicki asked what Pete was hauling in the truck. He smiled and said, “Firewood.”
“Who would need firewood this time of year?”
“The GC. You see, they don’t call it firewood, but I do.”
“What do they call it?”
“They call it loyalty silly taters or something like that.”
Shelly gasped. “You mean guillotines?”
Pete nodded. “That and some of the injector thingies. There are trailers full of these head choppers all over the country, but somehow they keep getting destroyed by the Judah-ites. It’s the weirdest thing.”
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