Armageddon Darkness
Page 12
Chapter 10
The Nephilim Noose
The first shipment of chips was to arrive in the Southern states in two days. The trio (Terrone, Cassidy, and Pendwight) finally decided on starting the census by using the National Guard to enforce it. National guard units were flying into Clarksville and Nashville, Tennessee, beefed up by army regulars from all the other participating states. It brought the number of Census Enforcers, CE's, up to over half a million.
It was the largest joint-peace-time exercise in U.S. history. One out of every two CE's was armed with scanners capable of reading a chip from over 30 feet away, much like what is used on electronic car locks. When they pointed the scanner towards anyone, an echo reading came back in an instant if they had a chip. The area that the chip was located glowed visibly for a second so its location could be eyeballed. At night, it glowed a bright, fluorescent purple.
Cassidy was running the show while Terrone took a reluctant backseat. There was a certain amount of wicked creativity between Pendwight and Cassidy; their minds were in complete synch. Terrone felt, more than understood, those dark vibes between Cassidy and Pendwight.
Terrone was regretting his initial cynical enthusiasm towards the new believers as well as his agreement on the marking rules. Finally, he interrupted, not giving way to another of Cassidy's to-the-back-seat hushes. "Cassidy, it seems like this show of force over the census is a little extreme. I know, I know, it's necessary to restore order to our country in chaos, but this all seems reminiscent of Communist China or old Russia. From what I've heard, we're actually going to sweep each community house-by-house and street-by-street after the initial census is complete. That's all well and good, but we're also talking about arresting the unmarked and taking them directly to prison without due process. Those who try to change their minds about the mark or commit fraud are going to a PEC facility for reeducation. Our constitution is being violated at every turn. Human rights are being thrown out the window!"
Cassidy exploded as Pendwight watched smiling, "How dare you challenge me? Do you want them to do it to us again? Do you really want anyone to have the right to disobey the law, our rules, just cause they feel like it? The founding fathers never had a situation like this. If they had, they would do it exactly as we are. They'd have to. We have to regain control over the populace. We have to do it faster than the Europeans, so we can get back the control of funds. We need to regain the dignity of America."
"You're talking about their wives like they were in charge. Don't Andre and the Count have anything to do with this? Why does this seem like competition between girls for the prom queen?"
Cassidy jumped up from her chair at the insult; and when she got to him, she picked him off the floor by his lapels, which tore from her hands in her angry clutch. "You lousy European sympathizer! You Cretan! I suppose you want to wear the mark on your forehead too, right?"
"Let me go, Cassidy! You're acting like you're God! We need to slow down! We have to protect the rights of the unmarked, those marked on the foreheads, and the others. That's all I'm saying. We can't force the U.S. back into the dark ages out of fear of what a select group of people that we call believers, may or may not do."
Cassidy tossed him back into his chair, and Pendwight pushed his own chair back slightly, and then got up suddenly to move behind it. He didn't trust Cassidy when she was raging.
Pendwight offered timidly, "Cassidy, can't we let Terrone come up with an alternative for us to consider? After all, he is the President. In the mean time, can't we at least move forward? Can't we get everything in place? To opt out now may not be a good idea. We have some momentum with the reward system in place, and especially, the new advertisement about helping America with those who commit fraud. Mr. President, when could you have information to us on an alternative plan?"
Cassidy didn't erupt this time. She seemed to read Pendwight's mind. Pendwight wanted the President to think he had input. He wanted him to think he was doing his official duty. She knew very well that Pendwight didn't expect it would happen. In fact, they would move forward with or without him, and he'd not know the difference. In other words, he was asking Cassidy to humor him rather than challenge him. They would do it their way anyway.
Cassidy smiled at Pendwight, and Terrone relaxed, having heard what he wanted to hear. "Thank you, Professor Pendwight. First, I would like some time to think this over. I guess it wouldn't hurt to keep things moving forward since the Europeans are expecting us to. Can I trust you both to ease up a little on this lynch-mob mentality? After all, this is America we're talking about, right?"
Cassidy nodded without saying a word and turned to Pendwight. "Professor, can I count on you to work with Terrone on this? He's right. This is America."
She knew that Pendwight would tell the President exactly what he wanted to hear. Nothing would change, except they would have to discuss this without Terrone around. Cassidy had already gone way out of her way to isolate Terrone from outside input. Not even the press could get to him. He was captive in her dark prison and didn't know it.
The First Wave
The CE's arrived with perfect military precision while setting up circus-size tents across Nashville called marking stations. The university campus of Vanderbilt, Peabody, and TSU were the first to be converted into strategic locations. The TV announced the census requirements, and within days, long lines formed as people marched into the facilities to begin answering some basic personal questions like: date of birth, address, phone number, e-mail address, social security number, and checking account numbers. Then, everyone was immediately relieved of all credit cards and cash on hand. Those with silver could exchange it for an additional credit on their chip account at a couple of local banks after getting marked. The CE's had computers generating special encoding with the help from employers. Between them, they were able to swiftly set up the chip-fund accounts for each person. No one could get paid except through this electronic system. The final questions were about their beliefs. Two lines separated those being marked on their forehead and those on their hands. When those receiving the mark on their foreheads exited the marking stations, they where jeered at and pelted with a hail of rocks and bottles. There were reports of gangs dragging them off—some died as a result.
After several days, people were afraid to take the mark on the forehead although they were new believers. Over the next week the number of believers being marked decreased dramatically, many having observed the results and changed their minds. The number of reports of fraud increased expediently. The government propaganda machine was working 24-hours a day with news announcements being posted every 15 minutes. Regardless of the programming, it interrupted all broadcasts in a news-flash fashion.
Little Henry
A teenager named Henry watched the TV and was about to turn it off. He had been after his mother to buy him a new 360 Game Player. Every time he asked, it was the same answer, "Henry, you know we don't have any money. You're lucky we haven't sold the TV for food as it is. "
Henry would go into another pouting fit by locking himself in his room but eventually come out to ask again. Henry spoke to himself just before starting another bothering session, "I need my own money. Where can I get some?"
That's exactly what he had said to himself when the government programming showed the reward system for turning in family members. This ad even had another encouraging aspect. It was suggesting that teenagers could get those cool gizmos, clothes, electronic games, and 360 Game Players. That was all Henry needed. He ran into his room to get a pencil and ran back to write down the toll-free number.
He was thinking about the Bible reading each night with his mom and dad. He always protested, but they insisted. They were new believers but were marked in their hands. They even made him read lengthy portions of the Bible to them as part of their family devotions.
He dialed the number and a soft-spo
ken lady answered. "This is Mary from the PEC hotline. Do you have a family member or neighbor to report? Please hold while we register you telephone number on our system for further reference. Thank you for calling. Our records indicate that you are calling from 615-383-9000. Is that right?"
"Yes, yes, that's right. Do I really get 500 dollars?" he asked, excitedly.
"Of course you do. Have you been marked, yet?"
"Yes, I have," he replied. "My mother and father have too—on their hands. They make me read the Bible every night and talk about Jesus. Is that enough to get my five hundred dollars?"
"Yes, we have recorded your message and are sending over a CE unit to investigate. They should be there within the next 20 minutes," she answered gently.
"When do I get my money? I have something I want to buy!" he exclaimed.
"How old are you, Henry?" she asked.
"I'm 14 years old. What's that got to do with anything?" he asked sarcastically.
"We'll have your chip account credited with the 500 dollars when you reach 18. We aren't allowed to credit chip accounts until then. In the mean time, government assistance will be available to you as with any orphan. You will be an orphan now, won't you?"
"You creeps! You suckered me. The ad didn't say anything about government handouts. I want my 360 Game Player. You lied!" he yelled as he hung up.
He went running through the house yelling. "Mom! Dad! Get out! They're coming to get you. Mom! Dad! They lied to me! I'm sorry!"
They made it out five minutes before the CE's arrived. The sergeant in charge spoke disappointedly, "We need to tell those operators not to pop their underage bubble until after we've arrested their parents. Make a note of it, corporal."
"Yes, sir," he replied while snapping to attention and saluting, then running off to have the CE unit search the neighborhood door-to-door in a five-block area.
Mandy
Mandy had seen her mother disappear in the rapture in the middle of baking some biscuits for breakfast. She didn't get a chance to visit her mother much but had decided to make the exception and spend the weekend with her. Her mother's fanatical believer ways drove her away from her. She never stopped talking about Jesus. She still remembered her mom singing a gospel tune as she checked on the biscuits. Mandy watched as they fell to a mess on the floor after she disappeared.
An hour later, while thumbing through her mother's worn Bible, she came across a Gospel tract. It didn't take her but a minute to read it, and less than that to go to her knees to give her life to the Lord. Her life changed so dramatically that all she could talk about was being one of the new believers.
At the Farmers Co-op where she worked, they tolerated her constant chattering about the Lord and figured it was part of working through the loss of her mom. That changed when Mandy came back from the marking station with a mark on her hand, not on her forehead. Nothing prepared her for what happened. Immediately, there was a race for the phones by several of the employees; and minutes later, the CE unit arrived. They took fast depositions from the two who had called, and through negotiation, gave them both credit for turning her in.
They handcuffed Mandy and moved her into a white Econoline Van that had on its side, CE Unit, and under it in graphic text, "Don't Let Them Do It to Us Again."
Mandy took the mark on her hand to avoid harassment, and especially the 50 percent pay reduction. She knew she'd never make it on that income. She'd be on the streets in a matter of weeks, but she just never expected this.
The CE's treated her kindly enough by trying to encourage her not to cause a scene. They kept reminding her that this was only a re-education community, and she would be well cared for. Once in the prison-like facility, things changed. She was fingerprinted and put in a 30-by-20, locked room with 50 other people—men and women, teenagers and adults.
The room was windowless and the screams of believers in other areas of the building filled the evening hours. No one could tell if they were being tortured or just going crazy on their own. There was no privacy, with barely enough food and water to go around. Mattresses were scattered from wall-to-wall on the floor. She heard several getting sick from the lack of ventilation mixed with fear. It almost made her sick too. She curled up into a protective, fetal ball in the corner of the room and hid her face into it, overwhelmed with an overpowering depression. This was prison, and she knew it. Finally, a man came over to her who tapped lightly on her shoulder, and she peeked from under her arm, then watched him with a tearful eye.
"Took the mark on the hand, I see," replied the man who wore a wrinkled, crumpled business suit from sleeping in it for the last week. "So did I. My brother turned me in. That man over there had his wife turn him in, and the lady with her teenage son was caught coming out of church—marked wrong. Those gangs grabbed her and hauled her to CE headquarters at the capitol. There were five of them. She never had a chance. Her son was traumatized by it. He saw what they did to her before they dropped them off. He hasn't said a word since. Doubt he ever will. We've had three suicides in the past ten days. It's something to think about. I do, just about every day. I just can't believe God would let this happen to his new believers."
"God isn't doing this," she responded angrily. "You know better. Nonbelievers are doing this. We messed up the first time; and now, we're just paying the price for it, that's all. We deserve this for not turning to the Lord to begin with. If I get out of here, I'm going to the country. I heard there were believer communes out there. They'd take care of me."
"Get out? That's a novel idea. If I hear about anything, you'll be the first to know. You're only the second person to say something like that since I got here. I heard you're from the Farmers Co-op, right?"
"Yes, and I do have some believer friends there too. I bet a good friend of mine is trying to figure out how to get me out. He and I were almost an item before we got saved. He just wasn't around the day they arrested me. He brings his watermelons in on Thursday. I wished I'd waited until the deadline. The unmarked aren't targeted yet, just the ones who didn't do it right. I'd at least have a little more time of freedom," she replied depressingly.
"If you want, I have a way to get a message outside these walls. I can get a message to your watermelon man if you'll take me with you when you go. Do we have a deal?" he spoke kindly.
"Yes, we have a deal," she replied, relieved that there was some hope of getting out of this trap. He was about the only one who wasn't crying or begging in their prayers for help.
Others
Everyone who had a fish symbol on car bumpers or wore Christian jewelry were fair game. The authorities didn't stop any of it. Gangs figured out they could put a Jesus bumper sticker on their cars that said, "Honk if You Love Jesus." They would cruise the streets and interstates waiting for someone to honk at them. Those honking were chased down, beaten, killed, or wished they were dead.
The CE's knew that when the deadline was over their real work would begin. The populace knew that the unmarked would go to prison, but what they didn't know was that prison and the PEC Centers were one and the same. The deadline was bound to increase the violence and abuse. The amount of chip credit was too tempting. Gun clubs and other new organizations formed to do their own vigilante work. They planned to start their own extensive searches before the CE's began their coordinated street-by-street efforts, even if it meant only staying a block or two ahead of them. The unmarked were worth too much money. They were putting out their own rewards and sharing with each other while trying to go for volume to increase their odds of finding them. They had stolen a number of scanners from the CE's or bought them on the black market. They also planned to set up their own roadblocks and security perimeters to catch them as they tried to run.
Just like Mandy wanted—to run. Believers were trying to leave Nashville for more secluded locations. They would cut across the countryside, avoiding the interstates, only to be sh
ot by rogue hunters using them for target practice. Still, they were getting out. Communities were forming that started only as communal locations where people shared supplies and goods, but they were becoming more than that. They were defending themselves against the nonbelievers by using their own self-made militia, and nonbelievers were just starting to stay clear of them.
They kept saying, "Aren't they supposed to turn the other cheek?" Instead, the communes were becoming so well armed that it was as dangerous for the marked to be around them as the cities were for believers. The communes started additional groups to patrol the nearby communities to keep the CE's or anyone else from getting even close.