The Left Behind Collection

by Tim LaHaye

  Rayford twisted in his seat and grabbed Hattie’s wrist as the doctor wrapped both arms around her ankles. They steadied her as Ken pushed the car to its limits. Only one short stretch of paved road existed between the house and the hospital. Ken opened the Rover all the way over that quarter mile, and when he hit dirt at the end of it, the vehicle nearly went airborne.

  When the hospital came into view, Floyd said, “Find Emergency.”

  “Can’t do that,” Ken said. “I don’t know the woman’s name. I just saw her mark, and she works up front near Reception, not in Emergency. I say we pull up there and let me run in and find her. If she can get us an operating room, the fastest way would be to take Hattie right through the front door.”

  Floyd nodded, and Ken steered up onto the sidewalk near the entrance. “Go, Ken. Ray, help me with her.”

  Rayford jumped out and opened the door near Hattie’s head. She was unconscious. “I don’t like this,” the doctor said.

  “Let me take her,” Rayford said. “Just push her toward me, and then you lead the way in and talk to the woman if Ken’s found her.”

  “I’ve got her, Ray.”

  “Just do it!”

  “You’re right,” Floyd said, and he pushed as Rayford pulled and gathered Hattie to him. She felt as light as a little girl, despite her pregnancy. He wrestled with the blanket and charged up the steps behind Floyd. The woman with the mark of the cross on her forehead followed Ken toward the door, terror on her face.

  “You brothers are going to get me in trouble,” she said. “What have we got here?”

  “She’s about to miscarry,” Floyd said. “Are you certified in the OR?”

  “Years ago. I’ve been behind a desk since—”

  “I can’t trust anyone else. Lead us to an OR now.”

  “But—”

  “Now, dear!”

  The receptionist, a teenager, stared at them. The woman said, “Point those eyes elsewhere and keep your mouth shut. Got it?”

  “Didn’t see a thing,” the girl said.

  “What’s your name, ma’am?” Floyd said as they followed her down a corridor.

  “Leah.”

  “I recognize your risk, Leah. We appreciate it.”

  Leah peered at Hattie as she opened the operating room door and pointed at the table. “I’m not her sister, apparently.”

  Floyd stared at her. “So we let her die, is that it?”

  “I didn’t mean that, Doctor. You are a doctor?” He nodded. “I just meant, you’re going to a lot of trouble and danger for someone who isn’t, you know—”

  “One of us?” he said, rushing to the scrubbing area. He grabbed a gown from a stack and headed to the sink. “Scrub with me. You’re going to assist.”

  “Doctor, I—”

  “Let’s go, Leah. Now.”

  She stepped beside him at the sink. Ken stood near the still unconscious Hattie. Rayford felt useless, waiting between the table and the scrub room. “Are we messing up the sterile environment in here?” he asked.

  “Try not to touch anything,” Floyd said. “We’re breaking a lot of rules.”

  “I wasn’t implying—,” Leah began.

  “Faster,” Floyd said, scrubbing more quickly than Rayford imagined it could be done. “We want to give this girl every chance to become one of us before she dies.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s concentrate on the patient. As soon as you’re ready, I want you to paint her with Betadine from sternum to thighs, and I mean paint. Use a liter if you have to. You don’t have time to be precise, so just don’t miss a thing. And have a fetal monitor on her by the time I get in there. If that baby is alive, I may try to take it C-section. You’ll have to handle anesthesia.”

  “I have no experience—”

  “I’ll walk you through it, Leah. How about we rise to the occasion?”

  “I’m going to lose my job.”

  “Humph,” the doctor said. “I hope that’s the worst thing that happens to you. You see the people in this room? I lost mine the other day. So did Captain Steele. Ken lost his home.”

  “I know him. He was a patient here.”

  “Really?” He followed her into the operating theater.

  “And how about the patient?” she asked, quickly applying the fetal monitor.

  “Hattie too. We’re all in the same boat. Prep her.”

  Ken and Rayford moved closer to the door. Floyd checked the fetal monitor and shook his head. He hooked her to other various monitors. “Actually, her respiration is not bad,” he said. “BP’s low. Pulse high. Go figure.”

  “That’s weird, Doctor.”

  “She’s been poisoned.”

  “With what?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Doctor, did you call her Hattie?”

  He nodded.

  “She’s not who I think she is, is she?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he said, moving into position. “You ever hear of another Hattie?”

  “Not in this century. Does her, um, boyfriend know what’s going on, or should we plan a trip to a gulag somewhere when he finds out?”

  “He did this to her, Leah. When you got the mark you became his archenemy, so now you’re on the front lines, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?”

  Rayford watched, praying for Hattie as Floyd positioned the glaring overhead light. “Dilated. Seven or eight centimeters.”

  “No section then,” Leah said.

  “The baby’s gone,” he said. “I need an IV line, Ringer’s lactate solution, forty units of oxytocin per liter.”

  “Incomplete abortion?”

  “See how fast it all comes back to you, Leah? Normally she would deliver in an hour or two, but as far along as she is, this will be quick.”

  Rayford was impressed with Leah’s speed and efficiency.

  Hattie came to. “I’m dying!” she wailed.

  “You’re miscarrying, Hattie,” Doctor Charles said. “I’m sorry. Work with me. We’re worried about you now.”

  “It hurts!”

  “Soon you won’t feel a thing, but you’re going to have to push when I tell you.”

  Within minutes, Hattie was wracked with powerful contractions. What, Rayford wondered, might the offspring of the Antichrist look like?

  The dead baby was so underdeveloped and small that it slipped quickly from Hattie’s body. Floyd wrapped it and pieces of the placenta, then handed the bundle to Leah. “Pathology?” she asked.

  Floyd stared at her. “No,” he whispered firmly. “Do you have an incinerator?”

  “Now I cannot do that. No. I have to put my foot down.”

  “What?” Hattie called out. “What? Did I have it?”

  Leah stood with the tiny bundle in her hands. Floyd moved to the head of the operating table. “Hattie, you expelled a very premature, very deformed fetus.”

  “Don’t call it that! Boy or girl?”

  “Indeterminate.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “Hattie, I’m sorry. It does not look like a baby. I don’t advise it.”

  “But I want—”

  Floyd pulled off his gloves and laid a hand gently on her cheek. “I have grown very fond of you, Hattie. You know that, don’t you?” She nodded, tears rolling. “I’m begging you to trust me, as one who cares for you.” She looked at him wonderingly. “Please,” he said. “I believe as you do that this was conceived as a living soul, but it was not viable and did not survive. It has not grown normally. Will you trust me to dispose of it?”

  Hattie bit her lip and nodded. Floyd looked to Leah, who still appeared resolute. He placed the baby in a carrier and carefully examined Hattie. He beckoned Leah with a nod. “I need you to assist me with a uterine curettage to eliminate the rest of the placental tissue and any necrotic decidua.”

  “Worried about endometritis?”

  “Very good.”

  Rayford could see by the look on her face and
the set of her jaw that Leah was not going to dispose of the fetus. Apparently Floyd gathered that too. After performing the procedure on Hattie, he gently picked up the wrapped body. “Where?” he said.

  “End of the hall,” she whispered. “Two floors down.”

  He walked out, and Hattie sobbed aloud. Rayford approached and asked if he could pray for her.

  “Please,” she managed. “Rayford, I want to die.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I have no reason to live.”

  “You do, Hattie. We love you.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Buck grew nervous in the van, waiting for Chloe and Tsion. He assumed she would hustle Tsion from the stage; thousands would have given anything for a moment with him, not to mention committee members who might want a word. And no one knew how Carpathia might respond to what had happened on stage. He initially blamed it on Tsion, but then the witnesses had appeared.

  Buck thought Nicolae should realize that Tsion had no miraculous powers. Nicolae’s quarrel was with the two witnesses. It was his own fault, of course. He had not been invited, or even welcomed, on stage. And the gall to have Fortunato and the pompous Peter the Second precede him! Buck shook his head. What else could one expect from Antichrist?

  Buck dialed Chloe’s number but got no answer. A busy signal he could understand. But no answer? A recorded voice spoke in Hebrew. “Jacov, listen to this. What is she saying?”

  Jacov was still beaming, having craned his neck and leaned out the window to see others’ marks. He often pointed to his own and learned that fellow believers always smiled and seemed to enjoy pointing heavenward. The day would come, Buck knew, when the sign of the cross on the forehead would have to say everything between tribulation saints. Even pointing up would draw the attention of enemy forces.

  The problem was, the day would also come when the other side would have its own mark, and it would be visible to all. In fact, according to the Bible, those who did not bear this “mark of the beast” would not be able to buy or sell. The great network of saints would then have to develop its own underground market to stay alive.

  Jacov put the phone to his ear, then handed it back to Buck. “If you want to leave a message, press one.”

  Buck did. “Chloe,” he said, “call me as soon as you get this. The crowd out here hasn’t thinned a bit, so I don’t want to have to come and find you and Tsion. But I will if I don’t hear from you in ten minutes.”

  As soon as he ended the call, his phone chirped. “Thank God,” he said and flipped it open. “Yeah, babe.”

  Heavy static and mechanical noise. Then he heard, “Jerusalem Tower, this is GC Chopper One!”

  “Hello?”

  “Roger, tower, do you read?”

  “Hello, this isn’t the tower,” Buck said. “Am I getting a cross frequency?”

  “Roger, tower, this is a confidential transmission, so I’m using the phone rather than the radio, roger?”

  “Mac, is that you?”

  “Roger, tower.”

  “You in the chopper with the other three?”

  “Ten-four. Checking coordinates to return to pad at King David, over.”

  “You trying to tell me something?”

  “Affirmative. Thank you. No head winds?”

  “Is it about Tsion?”

  “Partly cloudy?”

  “And Chloe?”

  “Ten-four.”

  “Are they in danger, Mac?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Have they been taken?”

  “Not at this time, tower. ETA five minutes.”

  “They’re on the run?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “What can I do?”

  “We’ll come in from the northwest, tower.”

  “Are they outside the stadium?”

  “Negative.”

  “I’ll find them in the northwest corner?”

  “Affirmative, that’s a go. Assistance, tower. Appreciate your assistance.”

  “Am I in danger too?”

  “Ten-four.”

  “I should send someone else?”

  “Affirmative and thank you, tower. Heading that way immediately.”

  “Mac! I’m going to send someone they may not recognize, and I’m going to be waiting for him to bring them out the northwest exit. Am I all right with that?”

  “As soon as we can, tower. Over and out.”

  “Jacov, run in and find Tsion and Chloe and get them out of the stadium through the northwest exit.”

  Jacov reached for the door handle. “Up or down?” he said. “There is an exit at ground level and one below.”

  “Bring them out from below, and stop for no one. Do you have a weapon?”

  Jacov reached under the seat and pulled out an Uzi. He stuffed it in his waistband and covered it with his shirt. Buck considered it obvious, but in the darkness and with the press of the crowd, maybe it would go undetected. “Someone must have assigned GC guards to grab Tsion. They don’t have him yet, but it won’t be long. Get them out of there.”

  Jacov ran into the stadium, and Buck slid behind the wheel. The crowd was finally, slowly, starting to move. It was as if people didn’t want to leave. Clearly they hoped for a glimpse of Tsion. Buck didn’t understand their conversations, but the occasional English phrase told him most were discussing the humiliation of Carpathia.

  As Buck maneuvered the van carefully through the crowd he heard a chopper. He feared it brought more GC guards. He was surprised that the helicopter looked just like the one that had borne Carpathia. He grabbed his phone and hit the last-caller callback button.

  “McCullum.”

  “Mac! It’s Buck. What are you doing back here?”

  “Ten-four, Security. We’ll check out the southeast quadrant.”

  “I sent a man to the northwest corner!”

  “Affirmative, affirmative! I’ll check southeast, but then I’m taking my cargo to base, over.”

  “Might they be southeast now?”

  “Negative! I’ll cover southeast!”

  “But what can you do if they’re there?”

  “Roger, I can create the diversion, Security, but then we’re gone, copy?”

  “I’m confused but trusting you, Mac.”

  “Just keep your people out of southeast, Security. I’ll handle.”

  Buck tossed the phone onto the seat and tilted his outside mirror to watch the chopper. Leon Fortunato announced over the helicopter’s loudspeakers, “We have been asked by Global Community ground security forces at the stadium to help clear this area! Please translate this message to others if at all possible! We appreciate your cooperation!”

  The mass of people did not obey. As word spread that Carpathia’s own helicopter hovered over one corner of the stadium trying to clear the area, hundreds started that way, staring into the sky. That cleared a path for Buck, who drove quickly to the northwest corner. As people streamed out, they were drawn to the helicopter and immediately began moving that way to check out the commotion.

  Buck pulled near the stadium. He ignored waving armed guards, opened his door, and stepped up on the floorboard to locate the underground exit. He found the dimly lit ramp where trucks had delivered equipment the day before. On tiptoes he saw a shaft of light appear as a door burst open and someone sprinted up the ramp.

  Guards moved in for a closer look as Buck realized it was Jacov. What was he running from? Why was he ignored? Was the GC watching for Tsion? As Jacov passed the guards, he appeared to spot the van. Less than fifty feet away, he looked straight at Buck. He pulled the Uzi from under his shirt and sprayed bullets into the sky as he turned left.

  The guards gave chase, guns drawn, and hundreds in the area screamed and dived for cover. Buck instinctively lowered his body, now watching over the top of the van. A couple hundred feet away, Jacov turned and fired more bullets into the air. The guards returned fire, and Jacov ran off again.

  Buck had not heard the van doors open
, but he heard them shut and Chloe and Tsion scream, “Go, Buck! Drive! Go, now!”

  He dropped into the seat and slammed the door. “What about Jacov!”

  “Go, Buck!” Chloe hollered. “He’s creating a diversion!”

  Buck laughed as he floored the accelerator and bounced over a curb. “So is Mac!” he said. “What a team! Where do we pick up Jacov?”

  Tsion lay on the floor of the backseat, panting. Chloe lay across the seat itself. “He said he would meet us at Chaim’s,” Tsion managed.

  “They were shooting at him!”

  “He said he would not draw their fire until he was out of range. He was sure he’d be all right.”

  “Nothing is out of their range,” Buck said, putting distance between them and the stadium. Most traffic, emergency and otherwise, headed toward instead of away from Kollek Stadium now. Roadblocks kept many civilian cars at bay as GC vehicles tried to get through. Buck was virtually ignored going the other direction.

  “If they’re after you, Tsion, we don’t dare go back to Chaim’s.”

  “I cannot think of a safer place,” Tsion said. “Carpathia will not threaten me there. Your wife was brilliant. She figured it out before it happened. She saw the guards coming for me, but she didn’t like their looks.”

  “They were pressing their earpieces hard against their ears,” Chloe said, “while releasing the safety locks on their weapons. I figured Carpathia or Fortunato told them to get revenge on Tsion and do it in the middle of a crowd so it would look like an accident. They got so close that I heard one tell the supreme commander where we were.”

  “I’m still worried about Jacov,” Buck said.

  “He was resourceful,” Chloe said. “He jogged through the tunnel near us, saying, ‘I’m looking for familiar faces to follow me quickly to safety.’ We stepped out from a utility room and—”

  “I immediately saw the mark on his forehead,” Tsion said. “Praise the Lord! You must tell us later what happened.”

  Chloe continued, “He said you were bringing the van to the underground exit. He peeked out and saw the guards at the top of the ramp, then said he would create a diversion and we should follow twenty seconds later. He backed up and ran, bursting through that door!”