It rose up from the deep, and the first things to break the water’s surface were a series of antennae. Ten huge arrays of gleaming, metal rods and spinning spheres rose up like the jeweled prongs of a crown. The ship heaved itself out of the water and hovered in the air. Despite the fact that it was festooned with ropes of seaweed, kelp, barnacles and crabs, it gleamed and glittered in the air like a diamond. Then, as we watched, the ship began to spin in place. The top of the craft spun slowly one way, while the bottom spun, faster and faster, in the opposite direction. The sea below it churned fitfully and then the ship disappeared!
“I heard a grunt and looked to my left. Pastor Edgington had fallen to his knees. Tears streamed from his eyes. ‘The Rapture,’ he whispered. ‘The Rapture is upon the children of God!’”
Chapter 25
The following excerpts are compiled from interviews and written accounts of Dwight Engle and his followers (CHURCH OF THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST) and the faction group (THE ANGEL’S SWORD).
By no means do the statements reported in the following reflect the opinions of the writers or reporters of the facts herein; furthermore do we note, that most of the accounts recorded here were given by war criminals and enemies of the state prior to EX 2022. Steven Cummings, reporting for The New World Chronicle.
The Aftermath –
Andy and I spent a wonderful weekend in New Hope. We bought a beautiful bolt of fabric for Lydia: purple and black, resplendent with crystals and beading, light as silk, but warm and soft as velvet.
We walked on the beach and flew kites with the children, while the Whistleberry trees hummed. We ate well, and slept long into the morning. Finally, we boarded the hover train and arrived home late on Sunday evening.
On Monday morning after Andy left for work, I sat at the dining room table and stared at the hundreds of notes I had taken during earth’s final moments. They sat in front of me now, pages and pages of data—the last screams, gasps and whimpers of a dying race. For a moment, I was overcome with emotion. To my eyes, the pages resembled dirty, gray, wrinkled fingers pointing at me accusingly.
“Get it right!” they shouted, “Don’t forget! What took you so long?”
Voices from the past clamored at me, and demanded to be heard. All good journalists know that the story changes from one person to the next, depending on who tells it. War stories, especially, will have the same face, but an entirely different complexion when told by the winners, as opposed to the losers.
The story of the exodus was no different. Things happened that, while to some seemed evil, to others seemed natural and necessary for survival. Many members of the ‘Angel’s Sword’ were foul by nature, driven by hatred, motivated by greed and a frightful will to survive at all costs. Other folks were caught up like flotsam in the riptide swell of humanity that crashed against Harmony’s perimeters with the gale-force winds of a winter storm.
By the same token, while most of Harmony’s citizens were fine, upstanding human beings, fear, anxiety and hostility ran like a small, black river under the foundations of the Harmony compound. Had Naomi’s Uncle Allen lived, the Harmony ranch might not have become such an easy target for Dwight Engle and his “Sword.”
From all accounts, Allen was fair-minded, but tough; an ex-marine, expert marksman, accomplished woodsman and hunter. He had known instinctively what needed to be done to survive the holocaust. He knew, in his gut, that this was the holocaust. He did not allow fear to cloud his judgment.
Although Allen was not a natural born killer, he would not hesitate to kill someone he perceived as a threat to him and his…unlike Naomi who, although very intelligent, was simply too tender to deal properly with the things that threatened her ranch, both from without and within.
The only things that stood between Naomi (the Harmony ranch, and the people within its boundaries) and total destruction were her two lieutenants, Steve and David, her two brothers, Zack and Josh, and Michael Anderson and his Remi. For a time, they were sufficient. Then the long winter came, bringing with it day after day of darkness and bone-chilling cold, starvation, and disease.
I pushed away from the dining room table, grabbed a cup of Javella, and paced back and forth across the living room floor. I decided then that I would tell the story in my own voice. I would honor the words waiting in the pages of notes I had taken from the survivors and eyewitnesses during the final conflagration, but I would trust my own instincts to keep the facts straight.
I sat back down, scooted my chair close, straightened my back, and started typing.
***
The air was clogged with ash for six days after the Yellowstone caldera tipped its hat, sending smoke, ash, glassine soot, dirt and debris miles into earth’s atmosphere from deep within its core. We found out later that the initial blast site measured 150 miles in circumference. It leveled everything in its path: trees, towns, cars, tractors, people and animals. Every bit of oxygen was sucked away during the volcano’s initial exhalation and returned in a firestorm of exploding gasses, lava, and super-heated toxic fumes.
No living thing within a 350 mile radius survived the blast. Luckily for the people in the northeast part of Washington State, an early winter storm had settled over the area. The winds blew from the north to the southeast, dropping the temperatures to the low 20’s, and dumping ashy sleet and snow on the ground.
The alien’s force-field dome had sheltered us from Evan Trumble’s army, the bee swarm, and the worst of the ash cloud, but by the sixth day, we were more than ready to leave the confines of the barn and make our way outside. I, for one, worried that I would never get the smell of pig, cow, and human manure out of my nasal passages, and I hadn’t had a bath in almost two weeks.
Michael’s sword (the Remi), cut a small hole in the dome and a scouting party stepped outside to look around. Although Andy decided to stay inside the dome, I was with Steve, David, Michael and Zack on the first expedition. I could hardly believe my eyes.
Ash was everywhere and coated everything in a dirty, gray shawl four inches thick. There were dead bodies beyond the fence line, and a couple more up on the fence itself. Within the perimeter, we found cattle, horses, chickens, cats, and woodland animals like squirrels and marmots, dead from suffocation and frozen to the ground.
Looking beyond the fence line, I could see that most of the vehicles that had clogged the pasture had retreated out of sight. For now anyway, we were free from attack. Snow filled the air, and mixed with the tears that ran from my eyes. Suddenly, I heard a voice.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” Naomi’s voice made everyone jump, except Michael, who grinned.
“God damn it, Nay! You were supposed to stay inside with the others!” Zack hissed.
She nodded and said, “I know, and I’m sorry I startled you Zack, but my place is out here with you guys. My God…look at the ash. I wonder if that’s it. I mean, this is bad, but it’s already clearing out. I bet that by the end of the week most of this stuff will just wash away.” Her voice was so sweet, so hopeful. Suddenly I was filled with confidence.
Michael shook his head. “No, Naomi. I’m sorry, but that’s not how it’s going to work out. Why don’t you and Steven go on inside the house, and the rest of us will tell the others it’s all right to come out of the barn. Then I’ll try to explain what Uncle and Auntie told me about the caldera, okay?”
Naomi nodded and turned toward me. I saw that her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and that she was struggling to keep from crying. I looped my arm through hers and murmured, “Let’s go and see how much ash got in the house, Naomi. I don’t know about you, but I sure could use a bath!”
We trudged through the snow and up onto the porch. Someone had the presence of mind to shut the door, and I hoped against hope that the house was habitable. Naomi stepped ahead of me and pulled the door open. It was only then that my mind registered what my eyes were trying to tell me.
There was over a foot of snow on the ground, and yet the porch and the
steps leading to it were clear. There was condensation on the windows, and a small trickle of smoke writhing up from the chimney. The house was occupied! I let out a hoarse cry, which died in my throat as the sound of weapons being cocked filled my ears.
Naomi stood stock still in the doorway, and for a second I pictured her lean, perfect body pierced by bullets and flying backwards into the swirling snow. Then I heard her voice. “Hi boys, I’m glad to see that you’re all right.”
Three young men stood in the living room. They were teenagers, and looked equal parts proud of themselves and scared. All three lowered their weapons and said, “Hi Nay—sorry, Naomi.”
Naomi shook her head and said, “I am glad to see you, but Steve is going to have something to say about your going against orders, you know.”
The oldest boy nodded and replied, “I know, Naomi, but we had no choice! If we hadn’t caught these guys, they woulda got in! We didn’t know about that bubble thing until it was too late. So we just brought ‘em here. We’ve been cleaning—”
Naomi held her hand up, and said, “Whoa! What guys?”
Another boy spoke up, “We were on the south end of the perimeter line, Nay. We were heading back when we heard the warning bell. But these two guys and a lady had already climbed over the fence and were heading toward the barn when we caught ‘em. We saw that big bubble thing when the bees and ash hit it, but we were squeezed into your uncle’s service van by then.”
Naomi turned toward me. “Steven, have you met our three musketeers yet?”
I shook my head, and introduced myself.
Naomi grinned and said, “This tall one here is Greeley Thompson, and his little brother, Mark. The one in back is Justin Towers. Now, Justin, are those people you caught in the guest room?”
Justin nodded and said, “Yes ma’am. They’re right here.”
Naomi moved toward the room that the young man was guarding, but before she had taken two steps there was a flurry of activity on the front porch. The door was flung open and Michael and Zack were in the house, glaring in alarm, rifles raised and ready to fire.
“Hey,” Naomi spoke softly. “It’s all right, it’s just the boys, see?”
Steve crowded in behind Michael and my brother, and growled, “What in the hell are you kids doing in here?”
Naomi held her hands up, and said, “Steve, they have a pretty good excuse. Plus they have some prisoners, I guess, in the guest room.”
Steve continued to glower, and muttered, “Extra chores for you kids. I don’t care about your excuses. We thought you were DEAD!”
The three boys hung their heads, and Michael said, “Maybe we ought to take a look-see at these people in the guest room?”
Steve nodded and snarled, “You three—sit down there until I’m ready to talk to you. We’ll take it from here.”
The boys slumped toward the dining room table. I thought that Steve was being a little too hard on them, especially considering the fact that they had managed to capture and subdue three members of Trumble’s army. I knew for a fact that most of those people were fierce and ugly with hatred and violence.
I saw Michael step to the bedroom door and look inside. His huge shoulders were tense and the 30.06 rifle in his hands looked like a toy, although I knew that it could kill just about anything that moved. I held my breath as Michael studied the prisoners and saw his shoulders droop, and a wry expression come over his face.
Naomi stepped in the door, and her little brother Zack flanked her right shoulder in protection. Then I heard her say, “Hi!”
I stepped in the room, and the breath I had been holding whooshed out of me in a sigh of relief. Three hippies were sprawled on the queen-sized bed. There were two men and one woman, but they all looked alike in their tie-dyed T-shirts, torn, embroidered jeans, Birkenstocks, and long hair. The air inside the room was redolent with the distinctive odor of Patchouli oil and sweat. Their nostrils, eyebrows and lips were pierced with gold and silver rings and delicate chains, and the woman had Egyptian henna and tats up and down her hands and arms.
One of the men sat up on the bed and said, “Far out, man.”
Steve took an aggressive step forward. “Who are you and how did you get on the ranch?”
The man stared up at Steve, and his mouth fell open in shock. “Dude, you need to chill. It’s all good. We came bearing gifts.”
Naomi put her hand on her lieutenant’s arm and whispered, “It’s okay, Steve, I don’t think these folks mean us any harm.”
Steve continued to glare, but stepped back with his rifle cradled in his arms across his chest.
“What are your names?” Naomi asked.
“My name is Randy. This is my old lady, Starshine, and her little brother, Lanny. Lanny now, he’s a little simple, as you can see, but he’s a good kid, and like I said, we brought you guys something you need!”
I studied Lanny and saw that he had the heavy brow and thick lips of Down’s syndrome, but his eyes twinkled merrily and he practically vibrated with excitement at Randy’s announcement of the gift. His sister Starshine held her arms around him protectively. She was worried that we might hurt him, and although it wasn’t my place to speak up, I couldn’t help myself. “Hi, Lanny. It’s great to meet you,” I said.
The man’s grin practically split his face in two, and he bounced up and down on the bed in joy. Starshine grinned, and Randy laughed out loud. “Lanny! Mellow out, will ya? We’re all gonna go flying!”
Naomi sat down in a chair by the bed and said, “First things first, okay? We need to know how you got onto the ranch, so we can fix the fence. Also, how did you get away from Trumble?”
Randy looked bewildered. “Trumble…you mean that bad ass who thinks he’s God? We were never with him, ma’am. We came down from across the border. We live about twenty seven miles southeast of Grand Forks. We actually make our run down the Kettle River; or at least we did, before the shit hit the fan.” He shook his head. “As far as your fence goes, I think it’s just fine. Actually, we tunneled in underneath it.” He looked up at Steve and Michael. “That’s something you might want to look into, if you don’t want the militia coming in after us.”
“What run are you talking about?” Steve was no longer feeling threatened by the prisoners, but his voice was still harsh. I knew Steve was kind of a redneck, and would normally view this species of human with suspicion, even under the best of circumstances.
Randy grinned and said, “Bud, man. We got ten pounds of B.C. Bud in our back packs!”
Chapter 26
By wisdom the Lord laid the foundation of the earth. By understanding he established the heavens. By his knowledge the deep waters were divided, and the skies dropped dew. 3:19-20 God’s Word
Naomi –
Naomi stared out at the audience. She was silent for a long while; so long the audience members grew restive. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry. It’s been an age, for all of us, since earth’s final moments, but sometimes it seems like it was just yesterday. Do you feel that way?”
An affirmative murmur rippled through the crowd. The adults in attendance whispered, and many wept at the memories. Naomi gazed at them with a small smile on her face. After a few moments, she continued.
“Ah well, Story Time has always been for the children, hasn’t it? They are the ones that need to learn about our history, and our home planet. They are the hope of our future.
“A week or so after the Yellowstone caldera blew, we ventured outside. We saw the ash, and realized that, thankfully, Trumble’s army had retreated. We met our newest members, Randy, his girlfriend Starshine, and her little brother Lanny. We were now the proud owners of over ten pounds of high-grade marijuana!”
Laughter greeted her words, and guffaws of mirth. An older gentleman rose to his feet, bowed right and left, and tipped an imaginary hat to the delight of everyone present. His wife blushed with embarrassment and pulled him back down in his seat.
“Anyway,” the
old woman continued. “For a little while anyway, most of us felt hopeful, as though we had weathered the worst of the storm and lived to tell the tale. Michael kept telling us that it wasn’t over; that the worst was yet to come. I believed him…hell, I loved him! I would have believed him if he said the moon was made of cottage cheese. I think, though, that there is only so much the human mind can absorb; only so many catastrophes the human soul can take before it cracks open like an egg.
“The early winter storm, with its biting northerly winds and nipping frost, stayed with us for two weeks. Finally, the skies cleared and I ventured outside to look around. As always, Zack was by my side.
“Much of the ash was gone now, washed away by the wind and snow. The sun shone down from a crack in the cloud cover; a brilliant golden coin that glimmered amongst the gray velvet folds of cloud. It was still very cold—the old thermometer on the barn read fourteen degrees F. I hugged my coat, and blew on my hands. Although the wind bent the treetops and sent crystalline sprays of snow into the air, I thought I could still smell the fiery tang of smoke and ash. I turned to my brother.
“‘Do you know the date?’ I realized that I hadn’t looked at the calendar in days. Either it was later in the year than I thought, or winter had come early.
“Zack nodded, and replied, ‘I think it’s October 20th, or close to that.’
“I turned to the east and studied the burnt-popcorn colored sky. ‘I wonder what it’s like southeast of Wyoming.’
“I felt a sudden pressure in my chest. Who was I kidding? I knew what it was like. The aliens—Uncle and Auntie—had shown us what was happening in the rest of the country and around the world. A volcanic plume had risen miles into the atmosphere, cloaking, choking, and suffocating everything in its path. The only thing that had kept us safe were the prevailing winds, but like a bad deed, what comes around, goes around. The aliens thought that the ash cloud would be back upon us within the week.
Story Time Page 18