by Len du Randt
- - -* * *- - -
‘Where have you been?’ René asked as Trevor pushed his motorcycle to its allocated spot.
‘I had some coffee with Andrew,’ he said.
‘Well, you’re back just in time for Pope Alexander’s statement.’
‘Statement?’ Trevor asked. ‘About what?’
‘About who killed Lord Yoshe.’
‘This I have to see,’ he said and took his place next to her on the sofa. He wondered how she had managed—in over three years—to suppress any feelings for him. If she had any feelings at all, she hid them well, and as long as she hid hers from him, he would hide his from her. For a moment he actually considered telling her how fond he had grown of her the past three years, but the face of Antonio Pascale on the television screen stopped him short.
‘It is with great sadness and remorse,’ Antonio said, ‘that I address you here today.’ Cameras flashed as he spoke. ‘The assassin of our Lord and God has been identified as a man called Michael Abrahams; a Messianic Jew.’
‘A what?’ René asked. Trevor didn’t answer, he just leaned forward.
‘This man has been linked to a group of fundamentalist terrorists who were responsible for the numerous bombings that started in Bali. This group is also believed to have been affiliated to the two—now dead—prophets, who are, as we suspected, linked to the aliens.’
‘I knew it,’ René said, but Trevor stayed focused on the television set.
‘This terrorist threat has to be dealt with swiftly and harshly. To do so I have created a monument in honour of our late Lord; one through which he can communicate to us from beyond the grave. To flush out the terrorists, all those within the Empire are to kneel down before the monument and declare our sovereign leader Victor the one and only true God. Those who don’t, are clearly part of the opposition group, and will be arrested by N-Force officers. They will be delivered the maximum penalty allowed by law: death.’
‘They deserve it,’ René said.
‘Through this monument, our leader will offer us messages of hope and love. Through love we shall conquer this terrorist cancer. Through love we will overcome our enemies.’ He waited a few seconds and concluded, ‘If you are not with us, you’re against us. Thank you.’
Cameras flashed as he walked off the stage and disappeared behind a stage curtain. Trevor muted the television.
‘René,’ he said. ‘If Victor was to come back from the dead, what would you say?’
‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’ she asked.
‘No,’ Trevor said, ‘I just want to know what you would think about something like that.’
René thought for a minute. ‘It would confirm my beliefs,’ she finally answered.
‘And that is...?’
‘That he really is God.’
- - -* * *- - -
Malcolm unzipped the flap of his tent and squinted as the sun stung his eyes through a thin patch of clouds. He stretched his limbs as he scanned the surrounding terrain. More had come during the night. They were everywhere now; a small city of tents. Tens of thousands of Jews as far as the eye could see were all around him, washing clothes, stoking fires, loading and unloading their cars. There was no leader; no one to tell them what to do or where to go. They just sat there, waiting for someone to take the lead.
‘Good morning, Mikael,’ he greeted his neighbour who was on his way to collect some water. ‘Beautiful morning, isn’t it?’
Mikael just grunted as he walked past. He still wasn’t properly awake yet.
A young man in his early twenties ran up to Malcolm. ‘Sir...’ he said and leaned forward to catch his breath. ‘It’s official, sir...’
‘What is it, Ian?’ Malcolm asked. ‘What is official?’
Ian breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath properly before continuing. ‘War has just been declared against those responsible for Victor Yoshe’s death.’
‘And? Who are they holding responsible?’
‘Messianic Jews, sir,’ the young man said and paused for a brief moment, a hint of fear escaping from his voice. ‘They’re blaming us!’
- - -* * *- - -
Between the tents, between the thousands of people trying to go about the chores of eating and staying clean, a lone figure walked. He didn’t speak to anyone, and avoided eye contact at all cost. He didn’t know where he was going, or who he was looking for, but he had a strange feeling gnawing at him, telling him that no matter what, he had to be there. It was difficult to see much through the campfire smoke, but a familiar voice caught his attention. He froze, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the voice.
Speak again! He thought, almost aloud. Say something; anything!
The voice spoke again, and he made his way in the direction that it was originating from. He came to a halt a short distance from the man to make sure that it was the right person. He recognized him immediately.
‘Mister Freedman?’ he said as he approached the man.
‘Erm...yes?’
‘Malcolm Freedman, right?’
The man extended his hand and Malcolm took it. ‘Call me Joe,’ the man said as they shook hands.
‘Pleased to meet you...Joe,’ Malcolm said. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Joe said. ‘But that is not the issue here. We have to get these people to a safe place before Victor comes after us.’
‘I agree,’ Malcolm said. ‘But where do we go?’
‘I don’t know,’ Joe said, ‘but staying here would be suicide.’
‘We should establish some form of leadership.’
‘I agree. Gather as many leaders and Rabbis as you can while I—’
Joe was interrupted as a motorcycle engine cut through the tranquil morning air. In a matter of seconds, there were hundreds of motor cycles driving around and through the tents. The men on the motor cycles wore black clothing and were wearing strips of cloth around their faces.
Women screamed and people started running as one of the riders fired a semi-automatic into the air.
‘What’s going on?’ Malcolm shouted above the screams and gunshots.
‘I don’t know,’ Joe said and pulled out a gun of his own. ‘But I’m sure that we’re about to find out.’
- - -* * *- - -
Joe fired two rapid shots into the front tire of an advancing motor cycle. The wheel seized, and the bike flipped over, sending its driver soaring through the air.
Joe didn’t waste any time. He sprinted to the fallen driver and jerked the semiconscious man to his feet.
‘Who are you?’ Joe screamed at the man. ‘What do you want from us?’
The man tried to stay conscious, but was clearly disorientated.
‘Tell me or I will blow your head off,’ Joe said and pressed the barrel of his gun against the man’s temple. ‘Are you N-Force?’
‘Not so fast,’ a voice behind Joe interrupted. Joe spun around and saw one of the bikers holding a gun to Malcolm’s temple.
Joe scoped the surrounding terrain with his peripheral vision as he tried to estimate where all the intruders were. ‘I guess we have ourselves a situation here,’ he said.
‘It appears so,’ the other rider said. ‘What do you propose we do?’
Joe looked around. The other bikers had rounded up the people and were gathering them into a crowd. ‘What are your interests?’ Joe asked. ‘Why are you here?’
‘We are here to gather the elect for protection.’
‘You call this protection?’ Joe asked and waved his pistol toward the driver and Malcolm. That was all the time his hostage needed to plant a powerful blow on Joe’s leg, sending the big man sprawling to the ground. The hostage picked up his weapon and tossed it toward the rider holding Malcolm hostage. The man shoved Malcolm next to Joe and sat on a rock as he studied them.
‘Who are you that you possess a weapon after they have been outlawed?’ the rider asked and pointed at Joe’s gun.
‘My name is of no concern to you,�
� Joe said.
‘But it is,’ the rider said and raised his weapon. ‘Tell me, or your name will be of no importance to anyone anymore.’
Joe mumbled the name that he was known by.
The rider lowered his weapon. ‘What did you say?’ he asked.
‘My name is Eugene,’ the man said louder. ‘But people know me as Benny the Fist.’
Malcolm took an instinctive step back.
‘Benny the Fist,’ the rider said as he thoughtfully studied the man. ‘You would be quite an asset on our team.’
Benny just remained still.
‘And as for you,’ the rider said and pointed his firearm at Malcolm. ‘Do you have what it takes to join us?’
‘I believe I do,’ Malcolm said. He still couldn’t come to terms that he was standing a few feet away from the most notorious assassin in the world.
‘Are you willing to die for your faith?’ the rider asked.
‘I am,’ Malcolm answered. He wondered if Mary was okay and scanned the crowd for her.
‘Are you willing to sacrifice all you have for Jesus?’ the rider asked.
‘What does this have to—?’
‘Answer the question!’
‘I...yes.’
‘Are you willing to sacrifice your son for God?’
‘My son...’ Malcolm said and lowered his gaze. ‘My son is dead...’
‘But if he was alive, would you sacrifice him for God if you had to?’
Malcolm bit his lip as memories of Timothy flashed through his mind. ‘I...would...’ he said and lowered his head in shame.
‘Then I am glad to announce that you are now officially part of our team,’ the rider said and removed the strips of material from his face.
Both Malcolm and Benny the Fist gasped when they saw who it was standing before them.
- - -* * *- - -
It’s the boy! Benny the Fist thought as he studied the man’s face. He was the one I saw talking to the two prophets!
‘Tim?’ Malcolm said, still not able to believe his eyes. ‘Is that really you?’
Timothy nodded. ‘It’s me, Father,’ he said.
‘How...? Where...? I thought you were dead.’
‘After you exiled me, I wandered the wilderness until I passed out. A group of men found me and took me to their hideout. They have set up a command centre in a network of caves nearby and as time went by, I quickly climbed the ranks until I recently replaced our late leader, Josephus Levi.
‘I broke our group down into smaller cells; all trained for guerrilla warfare, and have formed a band of undercover scouts to keep us informed of the proceedings in Jerusalem.’
‘How do you eat?’ Malcolm asked. ‘Where do you get your water from?’
‘The Lord provides us with food and drink as He did with Moses in the desert. Manna and quail fall from the skies in daily doses, and we are allowed to take enough for the day; any more and it rots. The Lord faithfully provides us with enough each and every day. There is also a fresh water stream in one of our caves that comes straight from the Earth. It will remain so until the time is right for us to return to Jerusalem.’
Malcolm couldn’t believe how much his son had grown and how mature he had become. He had turned from a meek boy into a strong young man. Malcolm would have loved to take the credit for how his son turned out, but he knew that he couldn’t. His boy did it on his own.
‘What do you suggest we do?’ Malcolm asked.
‘Have these people pack up and gather their belongings. We need to leave as soon as possible so that we may escape the coming wrath. We leave in an hour.’
‘Sir,’ a young man interrupted and produced a small, portable television set. ‘Something’s going down in Jerusalem. You have to see this.’
‘What is it?’ Timothy asked and looked at the screen.
‘I don’t know sir,’ the scout said ‘but the entire city just started shaking.’
- - -* * *- - -
‘What are we looking at?’ Malcolm asked as he studied the images on the screen.
‘Just keep watching,’ the scout said and turned up the volume.
A man appeared on the T.V. screen, holding a microphone and waving his hand in a general direction as he spoke. ‘Yes, Connie,’ he shouted. ‘It appears that it is indeed the two men that Lord Yoshe disposed of.’
‘How is that possible, John?’ a woman’s voice asked. ‘Weren’t they confirmed dead by top N-Force authorities?’
‘That is correct, Connie,’ the reporter answered. ‘But I can only tell you what I see. Those two men are standing at the very same spot where they supposedly died, preaching as if nothing had happened to them in the first place.’
The camera panned from the reporter and zoomed in on the two men that Victor had killed two and a half days ago. Malcolm couldn’t believe that they were alive, but felt a sense of relief. Where he once would have loved to strangle the men with his bare hands, he now had a newfound respect and appreciation for them. He finally understood their purpose and message.
‘The ones that God Almighty has sealed must flee,’ the older prophet shouted at the camera. ‘The time is short until the man of sin shall return, to rage his fury against those that oppose him and choose to serve the living God instead.’
‘Do not worry about provisions,’ Elijah said. ‘For the Bread of life will provide. Do not worry about shelter, for the Rock will be your shelter. Proclaim the Son of the living God to all nations and make the blind see.’
‘I don’t understand what they’re trying to say,’ the news reporter said. ‘But I can tell you that it’s—’
Come to me! a voice thundered from the clouds. The crew and everyone else in Jerusalem, except the two men, fell down under the awesome power of the voice. The two men looked up at the skies. The cameraman eventually regained his footing and focused his camera on the clouds to see who or what had called out. He didn’t get anything except a few lens flare shots.
‘Remember,’ Elijah said. ‘The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will never leave nor forsake you.’
With that, the two men shot up into the sky so fast that the cameraman almost lost his balance again. In less than three seconds, the men disappeared from sight.
‘Well,’ Benny the Fist asked Malcolm. ‘What do you make of it?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Malcolm said. ‘But what I do know is that they were talking to us.’
‘That’s right,’ Timothy said and dismissed the scout. ‘We have to get the people ready for—’
The ground started vibrating and the three men looked down at the same time. The vibrations soon turned to a light shaking as the Earth rumbled.
‘Whatever this is,’ Benny the Fist yelled to Malcolm above the rumbling noise. He pointed at the T.V. screen. ‘It’s happening in Jerusalem too.’
‘Earthquake!’ Timothy shouted as he held onto something to keep his balance.
Tents collapsed as people scrambled about, trying to find shelter. Eventually the violent shaking knocked most people off their feet.
- - -* * *- - -
‘It’s a quake!’ the news reporter yelled into his microphone as he dodged massive falling boulders while he tried to successfully manoeuvre his way for cover and protection.
‘Our weather people are receiving seismic activities in that area,’ Connie Jacobs spoke to the reporter through his earpiece from the newsroom at GMN central. ‘Get out of there, John!’
‘I’m trying, Connie, but our car has been crushed by rubble. We will have to try and find another means of transport.’
Andrew’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists. ‘Get out of there!’ he shouted at the television.
‘Connie, get the chopper out here if you can. We need to get out of here, now!’ The reporter’s voice had changed to a frantic scream. The Earth shook even more, and both he and the cameraman fell to the ground. The camera lay motionless on its side, and recorded a brief glimpse of the reporter scrambling to his feet. A large boul
der fell on the reporter with such force that Andrew jerked away from the television.
‘John?’ Connie’s frantic voice came from the studio. ‘John, are you there?’
No reply.
Andrew felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t force himself to look away.
‘Answer me, John!’ the woman shouted again, her voice more frantic than before. ‘Are you two okay?’
Still no reply.
Something fell in front of the camera with a loud thud, and a few seconds later, the screen flashed snow, and then went black.
- - -* * *- - -
When the ground finally stopped shaking, Malcolm and Benny got to their feet. Malcolm helped Mary up, and Benny assisted Timothy.
‘We have to move,’ Timothy said as the people around them stood up. ‘If we stay here a moment longer, we’re dead.’
Malcolm turned to face the stunned people that were gathered behind them. ‘You heard the man,’ he yelled as loudly as he could. ‘Let’s move!’
- - -* * *- - -
South Africa: The next day
‘I would never have believed it.’ Trevor said, ‘If I didn’t see it with my own eyes.’
‘You and me both,’ René said.
Just a day ago the two of them witnessed the resurrection of the two men in Jerusalem and had seen them shoot into the skies. Trevor would have shrugged it off for clever computer graphics had GMN not actually been biased against the two men.
Shortly after, an Earthquake shook Jerusalem, and it also appeared as if a GMN ground patrol team may have died in the collapse of one of the buildings. All that Trevor and René could do now was to sit and wait to see when GMN would report on the incident.