by Rob Mclean
“You know you’re supposed to be with Zeke…” the Pastor said with a hint of a smile. “At least according to your mother.”
“But he doesn’t want me.” Angela ripped small pieces out of the cup as she felt her throat constrict. “At least not as a wife.”
“And John doesn’t seem too bad as a consolation prize.”
“It’s not like that…”
Pastor Greg reached across the table to rescue the mangled paper cup. “From my point of view, there is only one choice.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” He put both their cups in the bin and turned to smile at her expectant expression.
“As far as God is concerned, I would say that John is the obvious choice.”
“John?” She wasn’t surprised that she didn’t feel too bad about his verdict. “How so?”
“Well, Zeke is already a Christian, so if you go with John, there’s a chance you might bring him to Christ and that would make one more Christian in the world.”
“And if I stayed with Zeke, then that wouldn’t happen, would it?”
“No, I don’t really think so.” Pastor Greg frowned and shook his head. “Look, I’ll have a word with young Ezekiel and try to convince him to welcome John as a potential brother in Christ.”
“Thank you. That would be a great help.” Angela felt a flood of relief. “Hopefully he will listen to you.”
“But, the Pastor wagged his finger in mock chastisement, “I’d regret it if by being with John, you were led astray and were to lose your faith.”
It was Angela’s turn to frown. “That won’t happen.” She hoped her faith wouldn’t be tested too severely and was sure she could find the strength to endure.
“Mind you, if only some of the events prophesied in the Book of Revelations come to pass…” A troubled, pained look darkened his face. “Well, let me say, it would certainly be trying times.”
“Oh, things would be a whole lot easier if we were to live a worldly life.” She shot a look at the Pastor and smiled as she thought of a carefree, uncomplicated life with John where no-one cared about their beliefs. “At least on one level, but in the end we would be regretting it, wouldn’t we?”
“Sure, in the long run, when Christ returns we will be fine.” His eyes glazed as he was lost in his thoughts, but then his features clouded and he grimaced. “But in the meantime, the tribulations we will have to face…”
“We’ll be okay here, won’t we? I mean, nothing will happen to us here in the States. All those wars will be in the Middle East, won’t they?”
“Oh child,” the Pastor said, his shoulders sagging. “You haven’t heard?”
Angela shook her head. Ignorance and innocence widened her eyes.
“We’ve been up most of the night trying to decide what to do, where to go…”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“It’s Texas and the other righteous states,” his face awash with a deep sorrow. “They have signed an alliance with the South Americans and Mexico.”
Chapter 28
Akil had lost all track of time as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Days, weeks or maybe even months may have passed, but for him, it was impossible to tell.
Anonymous figures drifted past, visiting him in his dream like state. Glowing angelic visions hovered about, both concerned and reassuring. Their intentions conveyed with a supernatural, dream-like certainty that he felt deep in his soul.
In a moment of relative clarity he saw that he was in a hospital bed. He was the only patient in a crisp white sterile room. Tubes and wires fed into his body, nourishing and replenishing him, as well as draining the filthy toxins, wastes and poisons.
Curiosity made him examine the tubes more closely, but he saw that they merged seamlessly with his flesh. It was impossible to tell where he ended and the tubes began. His mind rebelled against the image, but the effort soon overwhelmed him and he gratefully lapsed back into unconsciousness.
The next time he surfaced, he found himself immersed inside a tank of gelatinous liquid. The hairs of his body had thickened and elongated to become a myriad of fine tubules reaching out to the air outside. He wanted to call out, but his mouth and lungs were full of the gel. Panic filled his mind as he felt the gel moving inside his windpipe even though, on a rational level, he knew that he wasn’t drowning.
Again he felt his consciousness drifting away. Before sleep overcame him, he figured that someone must be monitoring him and must be sedating him when he became too restless.
Later, although he couldn’t tell how much time had passed, Akil awoke to find himself back in the hospital bed. Spectral figures hovered at the edge of his vision. They vanished into the white of the hospital walls whenever he searched them out, but he felt their concern emanating like a background buzz of conversation.
“Hello?” Akil called out. He felt half delirious, but managed a weak grin when he realised that talking to the wall wasn’t a good sign.
To his surprise, one of the glowing ghostly figures manifested itself, solidifying out of the mist that clung to the edge of his mind, and drifted closer. Akil watched as the hazy glow about the figure’s face cleared to reveal his brother’s features.
Tarek came to sit beside him. He held Akil’s hand. Warmth and love flowed freely up his arm until a soothing glow suffused his body. Behind him, his sister, Yasmin appeared. Concern marred her otherwise unnaturally flawless features. Next to her, Akil saw his father. Gone were the walking stick and the arthritic knees. Instead, Akil saw the man he remembered from his childhood; a younger, strong version that had played football with him in the streets.
Akil smiled, overjoyed to see his family. “You all made it out.”
His sister said nothing as she stroked his brow.
“I was so worried…” Akil felt his throat tighten. A niggling voice in the back of his mind told him that these people were not really his family. They couldn’t be.
Was it another dream? He didn’t really care, he was so glad to see them.
“What happened to our home?” Akil searched his brother’s face for answers, but saw only worry. “What happened to me?”
“Cairo was destroyed,” his father stepped forward. Tarek and Yasmin drifted to either side of him. “We should have known it might happen, but we never thought…” Akil saw the pain and recrimination mirrored across all their faces.
“There was nothing we could do,” Yasmin said.
“There was nothing we were allowed to do,” Tarek added as if to clarify, but it only made Akil more confused and brought a disapproving frown from his father and sister.
“Destroyed?”
“Yes, but the city was not the target,” Yasmin said.
“The alien spaceship?” Akil searched their faces. “But who would do that? The Americans?”
“It doesn’t matter which nation launched the strike. There are some who aren’t ready for the changes your world must make.”
Your world? Akil remembered being carried by the alien envoy into his shuttle craft and saying something about being famous. He wondered if the envoy had somehow managed to get him into an exclusive western hospital in New York or London for treatment. But as he looked around the ethereal room, he began to think maybe he was somewhere completely different. “So, where am I now?”
A quick conference of nods passed around his visitors. Akil felt certain there was some sort of communication going on amid their concerned expressions that he wasn’t privileged to, that it was just out of hearing, although nothing was being said.
It was his brother, Tarek who eventually answered. “You are aboard the alien spaceship.” As he spoke, his face changed. The familiar features melted to become an indistinct, anonymous entity. Similarly his father and sister also morphed to lose their identities.
Akil wasn’t overly concerned. He felt a peaceful calm wash over him. He figured they had increased his sedatives again to help him cope with all the distressing news, but he didn’t
care.
‘and for our safety.’ The words entered Akil’s mind as an unbidden thought, but he knew it came from the alien who had appeared as his sister.
Akil wondered what she meant and immediately an image of a captured and sedated silverback gorilla surrounded by human scientists filled his mind. Akil didn’t know whether to laugh or feel offended, but then he realised that they had read his thoughts and responded through some sort of telepathy.
Akil knew he was either dreaming or really was inside the alien mothership. Either way, he decided he preferred his visitors to look human. Almost straight away, the three visitors changed themselves back to resemble his family. He knew they weren’t really his relatives, but it felt easier to talk to them this way. He didn’t want to have to cope with too much right now and a few familiar faces were welcome. He appreciated the way they were trying to make things easier for him. He saw their faces smile in acknowledgement of his thought.
“Where is my real family?” Akil directed the question at his ‘sister’, but he asked it out aloud. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t imagining the whole mind reading thing, or if it was a reliable way of communicating.
“We don’t know,” his brother replied. With a look to his father, who nodded, he added, “but we can try to find out.”
Akil grinned. The thought that these all powerful aliens were fallible made him feel a little better.
“We are not as perfect as you think,” his father voice took on a familiar admonishing tone, “but you must believe that we are well intentioned.”
“The road to Hell…” Akil waggled his finger. He noticed his whole hand was suffused with a pearly light and almost appeared to glow.
“I believe we have just retrieved you from there.” His father’s tone softened slightly.
Akil remembered the thirst and pain he suffered in the time following his escape from the ruined prison. The boiling ruddy clouds, the fires and the bodies… If that wasn’t Hell, then it was its sister city. He also remembered the blood. His lifeblood, sprayed around him. He remembered the fading thrum of the helicopter blades and, with a sickening jolt when he had given up all hope of rescue. He had resigned himself to die.
He looked again at his whole and slightly radiant hands and wondered what had happened. The aliens had cured his battered body with their advanced technology and for that he was grateful.
His sister took his hands in hers. “This is not your body.” Her words were gentle, but Akil sensed a harsh truth behind them.
“Your Earthly body was very damaged.” His brother laid his hands on Yasmin’s shoulders, as if to lend her strength. “We are trying to mend it, but the injuries are extensive and it may take time.”
“But…” Akil turned his hands over and swept his fingers over his open palm.
“Your mind is intact. This body is a construct we have put together to house it while your Earthly body is repaired.” All three aliens looked at him for signs of understanding.
An image appeared in Akil’s mind. He saw himself in this hospital room with a long silvery line attached to the top of his spine, behind his neck. It snaked a glowing liquid path out through the walls. His mind’s eye followed it as it passed through several levels of the spaceship, until it ended in a body-sized, silvery, egg-shaped mass.
He peered inside and saw himself, his ravaged, mortal flesh. Encased inside the gel, with a myriad of filaments attached, he saw his own ruined body.
Chapter 29
Pastor Greg stood and watched the trickle of parishioners from the back of the foyer. He had delegated the ‘meet and greet’ duties as John had suggested, but he needn’t had bothered. The numbers had dropped markedly in the last few weeks following the referendum.
He decided to persist with it though, as it would help others to step up within the church and give him more time to spend with special individuals who might need closer attention.
One of these had arrived with his sister. It gladdened his heart to see that both Zeke and Chelsea had chosen to continue to attend despite, or rather, in spite of their parent’s departure. They now stood in a group with their other younger siblings, along with Christie, Aaron, Lachlan and Curtis, along with a few other kids. He smiled to himself. There was always some hope for the future if the youth were on side.
Pastor Greg approached the group. They greeted him warmly and seemed happy enough to talk, but he saw a sullen look cross Zeke’s face when he asked him for a private word.
“What’s the problem?” Zeke asked as soon as they were away from the group.
Pastor Greg had wondered how he would approach Zeke. It was always tricky discussing someone’s personal life without appearing nosey, especially if they didn’t want to talk. An angry young man would always be a challenge, but he figured that’s what he was here for.
“Zeke, so good to see you today,” Pastor Greg said as he clasped Zeke’s hand in a welcoming handshake. “I’m sorry to hear that your parents won’t be coming to our church anymore.”
“Yeah, their loss, right?” Zeke spoke casually, but Pastor Greg knew from talking to his sister, Chelsea, that the whole family was in crisis and that choosing to be here today, they were defying their parent’s wishes.
“Their path is not set in stone. We can hope they decide to return to Christ one day,”
“Fat chance,” Zeke snorted as she shook his head. “They want to sell the bookshop. You know it got graffitied again?”
“No, I didn’t.” Pastor Greg frowned as he thought out the implications.
“But Chelsea threatened all hell if they did.”
“I imagine she would. She must be very disappointed in her parents.” The Pastor paused to give Zeke the chance to agree and maybe elaborate, but he simply nodded. “Still, there may be some hope for them. As long as people of faith are still in their lives, it reminds them of the path of redemption.”
“Oh, I’m not going let them get away with it. Don’t worry about that. I’ll be at them to change their minds.”
“They’re always welcome back whenever they want,” Pastor Greg saw over Zeke’s shoulder, as he spoke, that John and Angela had arrived.
With them was a younger girl he hadn’t seen before. Something about the way she walked was unusual, but clearly she was with John as she clung close behind him as her eyes wandered about taking everything in.
Zeke followed the Pastor’s distracted gaze and scowled when he saw who had arrived.
“I was wanting to talk to you about them as well,” the Pastor said, silently thanking the Heavens for a way to broach the topic.
“What’s to say?” Zeke shrugged. “She’s made her choice. Her loss.”
“Maybe so, but I was wanting to talk to you about John.”
“Who cares about him?” Zeke turned away from them with an exaggerated show of disinterest.
‘You do,’ thought Pastor Greg. Instead, he said how pleased he was that John was now coming to church regularly.
“He’s not a Christian,” Zeke sneered. “He’s only here ‘cause she wants him to.”
“Maybe so, but it’s our hope that he will eventually welcome Jesus into his life.”
“Don’t think that’ll happen,” Zeke shrugged. “But it doesn’t worry me if he does.”
“I want you to put aside any quarrels you might have with him…”
“I don’t have any hassles with him.”
Pastor Greg let the lie slide. “I want you to do the Christian thing, the right thing, and welcome him as a brother.”
“A brother?” Zeke screwed up his face.
“A brother in Christ.”
“Yeah, right.” Zeke shook his head. “He’d have to get up there,” Zeke pointed to the podium up on the stage, “and proclaim before that would happen.”
Pastor Greg nodded. “It might not happen, at least not here. I have to discuss with the congregation about the church having to move.”
“Move? To where? Why?”
“Following th
e results of the referendum, the people in this part of the world chose to reject religion. This part of the city had been declared part of the ‘New United Nations’ and so we have to move this church to somewhere where we’re welcome.”
“Yeah, can you believe it? We’re like, living the in Last Days right now. It’s all happening.” Zeke spread his arms wide.
“It certainly looks that way.” Any doubts the Pastor had about the alien visitor not being the AntiChrist had been dispelled by the way events had played out following his arrival.
“It’s scary as Hell,” Zeke continued, “but at the same time, it’s a real rush. It’s our chance to make a difference.”
“We can do that every day. We shouldn’t need the AntiChrist to motivate us,” Pastor Greg said with a slight grin.
“So, have you found somewhere for us to move to?” Zeke asked, looking around. “Is it far?”
“There’s not much left for us in L.A.,” the Pastor shook his head ruefully. “We might have to move to another county or even interstate.”
“But why should we move? I was born here. This is my town.”
Pastor Greg could hear the anger in the young man’s voice and he could empathize with him. No-one, himself included, wanted to be uprooted from the neighbourhoods they had grown up in to move to some area across town or interstate, let alone to another country.
“I hear what you’re saying, but this sort of thing has happened before.”
“Yeah? Like when?”
“Back in 1947, when the British left the Indian sub-continent, the whole place was divided along religious lines. The Muslims moved to what is now Pakistan and Bangladesh and the Hindus got India. Millions of people were relocated.”
“But they weren’t forced, were they?”
“No. I think it was all voluntary. There are still Hindus in Pakistan and Muslims in India, but it was an opportunity to live amongst people of your own faith.”
“So you’re saying we should be happy to live in isolated enclaves, just so long as we’re amongst fellow Christians.”