The Left Behind Collection

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The Left Behind Collection Page 338

by Tim LaHaye


  Meanwhile, Sebastian and his people blithely walked through the midst of the enemy, unscathed.

  Chang ignored his phone as long as he could. He had considered turning it off, deciding his work was finally over. But a sense of duty prevailed. He tore away from the magnetic sign in the sky, shot Naomi an apologetic smile, and answered.

  It was his assistant. “You’ll want to see this,” he said.

  “I’m already seeing what I want to see,” Chang said.

  “But you’re still interested in the Jewish question, right?”

  “The Jewish question?”

  “What Dr. Rosenzweig called the ‘worldwide turning to Messiah’?”

  “Of course, but that’s been going on since Chaim’s broadcast.”

  “And it picked up with the lightning storm.”

  “Exactly,” Chang said. “So what’s new?”

  “You must come and see. Massive doesn’t begin to describe it. There must have been millions still undecided, but no more. They’re all coming to the Lord, and it seems every one of them is letting us know.”

  Rayford had never thought about what one wears to meet Jesus. He dug through his closet, finding—also as prophesied—three-and-a-half-year-old but good-as-new khakis, socks, and boots. He was dressed in seconds.

  “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, Ray?”

  “What?”

  “That we got no business skedaddlin’ out of here if you’re healthy enough to fight. There’s a battle comin’, and the both of us were supposed to be in it.”

  “Don’t do this to me now, Mac.”

  “I don’t want to be here any more’n you do, Ray. But Sebastian and Razor and Otto and them are all tryin’ to hold the perimeter.”

  “Oh, man! Well, Abdullah’s gone.” Rayford was transported back to his childhood when he would plead his case with his parents. “Why does he get to do it?”

  “Abdullah can answer to his own conscience.”

  “And I’ve got to answer to yours?”

  “Just do the right thing, Ray.”

  “You staying, either way?”

  “Got to. It’s the way I’m made.”

  “You would have to get parental on me all of a sudden.”

  “Do what you got to do, Ray. I’ll understand.”

  “I’m not flying without you, Mac. You really think God healed me so I can help in a battle He’s already promised to win?”

  Mac shook his head. “I didn’t say it made sense. I just told you what I thought.”

  “I’m calling Sebastian.”

  “This is Big Dog One!” Sebastian shouted. “Talk to me!” When he heard Rayford’s question he laughed loud and long. “You and Mac get yourselves in the air right now, and if you don’t I’ll come up and shoot you myself.”

  He told Rayford where he was and what was happening.

  “Then you’ll believe it when I tell you that when the sign appeared, God healed me.”

  “I’d believe anything right now, buddy. If it didn’t mean leaving my people, I’d go with you. So you remember every detail, hear?”

  Chang had been told enough, by Naomi—whose love for him made him wonder about her objectivity—and by the leadership, that he had served a crucial function not just for the Tribulation Force, but also for the entire remnant in Petra. He was gratified to hear it, and while he was relieved to be out from under the daily pressure of living as a mole in the Antichrist’s own lair at New Babylon, he had found Petra an unusual challenge.

  Naomi had been the bright spot, of course. But his work, sometimes fourteen to sixteen hours a day, could be both a grind and invigorating. It motivated him because he was—he couldn’t deny it—somewhat of a prodigy in technical things. Associates told him that was an understatement, and some even held that he might be the leading computer expert in the world, despite his youth.

  All well and good, but when he examined himself and tried to decide what was troubling him about his current work, it was the old real-estate agent’s adage: location, location, location.

  Computers had come a long way in his lifetime alone, but they still largely had to be housed inside, out of the weather. It seemed to Chang that he was still a mole, living mostly underground—or at least indoors. His forays out were always on breaks or at the end of the day, or when he was stealing a moment or two with Naomi, as he had just done.

  Now here it was, just before the Glorious Appearing of Christ, and he was back inside, sitting before a bevy of screens, keeping tabs on the whole world. It was a privilege, sure. Who else was doing it or knew how? And he knew he brought a lot to the table, like the ability to hack into the enemy’s transmissions, both computer and television. And while he would rather be with the rest of the remnant, marshaling outside and being directed to various high places, Chang knew this was where he would sit for the end of the world.

  He could cry and moan or he could do his job, and he would do the latter. There would be time to be a frontliner, able to take in every detail of the millennial kingdom. For now he would monitor and coordinate the activities of his compatriots. They had to be kept in touch with each other.

  Sebastian was in the midst of the Unity Army’s attempted invasion, as were Razor and Otto and Ree.

  Abdullah was in a jet, who knew where?

  Chaim was working with the elders to coordinate the people.

  Last word Chang had heard was that Rayford had been healed and that he and Mac were looking for four-wheeled ATVs so they could rejoin the fray.

  Lionel was in Chang’s same situation, tied to a desk, still managing the far-flung exploits of the International Co-op from Petra with the help of Ming Woo.

  And Leah and Hannah were running the infirmary, a polite term for a medical facility as large as most hospitals.

  More fell to Chang than he felt should be under his purview, but with the leadership otherwise engaged, he would have to make some executive decisions. Abdullah had radioed in, asking permission to rejoin the masses at Petra.

  “I understand the resistance to the Unity Army on the perimeter has already been overrun,” he said. “But they are still safe and protected, and we know extra help is not needed there.”

  Chang couldn’t blame Abdullah for asking. It was the very thing he wanted to do and to be—a camper instead of a counselor, for lack of a better description. “Come on ahead,” Chang told him. He also explained why Abdullah was having trouble reaching Rayford and Mac, but a minute later that all changed too.

  “Chang,” Rayford said, “Sebastian doesn’t need us and can’t use us. I’ve instructed him to bring his troops in to join the remnant. Their work is done.”

  “But won’t they have to come through the Unity Army to get here now?”

  “They’re in the middle of ’em already, and the enemy has no power over them. Once Chaim and the elders get everyone in place, the population here can look down on the plains all around Petra. They’ll have a perfect view of the sky and the earth.”

  “And you and Mac?”

  “Mac’s going to take his chopper and I need an ATV.”

  “You sure you want to go back out on one of those?”

  “What are the odds, Chang? Gotta climb back on the horse, as they say.”

  Chang checked his records and told Rayford where Lionel Whalum kept the best units, “full of fuel, charged up, and ready to go. And where will you go, or do I want to know?”

  “I’m going to go where Mac tells me. He’ll be hovering over the Unity Army, trying to spot the leader himself. I want to be close enough to see and hear Carpathia. He’s got to be somewhere out there behind the horde that has swept past Sebastian’s position and is on its way up to our western border.”

  Chang filled Rayford in on what everyone else was doing, including Abdullah. “And you know where I’ll be.”

  “We couldn’t survive without you, Chang.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Enoch got on his phone, shaking his head. He couldn’t
blame his little flock for cutting and running. He’d been scared too, but there was nowhere to go and, really, nothing to fear. That was easy to say but quite another thing to act upon when the powers of heaven had been shaken. But it didn’t seem right to be apart from his people, not now.

  How surreal it felt to be stretched out on a chaise lounge in a suburban backyard, trying to reach parishioners on the phone while a cross of lightning miles tall and wide vibrated in the sky. He finally reached Florence, a late middle-aged black woman who seemed to have the most influence with the congregation.

  “Florence, where is everybody?”

  “About half of us are right here, Pastor. A little embarrassed, but okay.”

  “And where’s here?”

  “’Bout three blocks from you, I reckon. We came back to the mall, but your car was gone, so we figured you was at home.”

  “I’m home. Why don’t you all come here and be with me when the Lord returns.”

  “You told us never to give away your hideout. How we all gonna fit in your cellar, anyway?”

  He told her where he was. “Of course we don’t want to draw the attention of the neighbors or the GC, but don’t you think they’re preoccupied with the sky right now?”

  “Watch for us. We’ll be comin’. Only a few of us have cars, and we’ll leave those here.”

  Mac stood talking with Lionel Whalum while refueling the chopper. “Haven’t been outside all day,” Lionel told him, hands on his hips, studying the cross in the sky. “Except to get Captain Steele his ATV, of course.”

  “Not even for the lightning storm? That was something.”

  “Heard it. Saw it on a monitor. Tell ya, Mac, you’d think Co-op stuff was over now, but we’ve never been busier.”

  Chaim missed Tsion in the worst way. The younger man commanded respect, maybe because he was a rabbi, maybe because he simply exuded a walk with God that was newer to Chaim. It wasn’t that Chaim couldn’t get his elders’ attention. It was just that he had to raise a hand and ask for the floor. Tsion never had to do that. Merely leaning forward or taking a breath or opening his mouth seemed to draw attention to him and quiet everyone else.

  Eleazar Tiberius, not that much older than Tsion had been but a much bigger, rotund man, had become a wonderful ally. Twenty years younger than Chaim, his deep bass voice and the gray invading his sparse rim of black hair and beard lent him an air of authority. And he was appropriately deferential to Chaim’s leadership, frequently calling for order and requesting—demanding, really—that his colleagues listen to Dr. Rosenzweig.

  That was crucial now when the elders were about to split up and coordinate the various group leaders for all the Petra citizens in their respective areas. “We must have order,” Chaim said. “We must keep people moving and under control. Notice the chart here. Gentlemen, please. Notice the chart where the groups are to go. Please! Each of you is responsible for undershepherds who will have a total of a hundred thousand men, women, and children in their charge.”

  Chaim stopped and looked down. He feared the elders were not listening. He could understand that they wanted to get back outside so as not to miss the Glorious Appearing. But that was what this was all about. He didn’t want anyone to miss it. He looked at Eleazar, who used his voice to fix the matter.

  “Gentlemen! If you do not at least glance at the chart, you will not know where to tell your group leaders to go! Group number one, as you can see, you are taking the southern route to the high places on the western border. Our engineers have determined there is enough room for everyone, if all cooperate. The first forty groups of a thousand each can move to within ten feet of the edge, but they must all be willing to sit once they get there. And it is of crucial importance that the sixty groups behind them not press forward or we could lose tens of thousands over the side. Understood?”

  Chaim was pleased to see Abdullah rush in. As Eleazar continued the instructions to the other elders, Chaim pulled the Jordanian aside and embraced him. “How is my prize student?”

  Abdullah told him where he had been and what he had seen. “As you know, Doctor, I am not a man of outward emotion, but I do not mind telling you, I was moved to tears by what the Lord showed me. It was such a privilege.”

  “I cannot imagine your wanting to leave the sky.”

  “I had an overwhelming desire to be with you and the people for what comes next. I have the strangest feeling that it could be any second, even before we get everyone assembled.”

  “We fear the same,” Chaim said. “The Unity Army is at our doorstep, and the only reason our people have the confidence to look down over the sides into their gun barrels is that we saw them swallowed up by the earth the first time they dared approach, and we danced in the fire they sent us the second time.”

  Rayford loved the feel of the monster ATV. Any fear that he would be tentative had vanished when he took it for a spin inside Petra, leaning this way and that as he gradually accelerated and made right and left turns, eventually at high speeds. He didn’t plan to be careless. He would use the headlights, even with the illumination from the cross above, and keep his eyes on the ground to avoid ruts and rocks.

  The loud, staticky humming in the sky both thrilled and unnerved him, because while he knew the portent of it, he also believed Jesus could appear at any time. The only thing better than being here when that happened was to be close enough to Carpathia to see his response. In truth, Rayford assumed he himself might be so overwhelmed that he would no longer give a rip about Carpathia.

  Having given Lionel Whalum a thumbs-up, he pointed the vehicle toward the steep grade that led to the western flats. He would accelerate for as long as he felt in control, and at the first sign the bike was getting squirrelly, Rayford would ride the brake.

  Mac ascended vertically several hundred feet before leaning the helicopter away from Petra airspace and swooping directly over Unity Army forces. He had to watch for their own aircraft, but it appeared no one on the ground paid him any mind.

  He knew Carpathia and his entourage had come from the east, so he flew to the eastern edge of the massive army. There, perhaps a quarter mile from the mounted troops, was an encampment of vehicles and horses and what appeared to be comfortable chairs. Dignitaries sat watching the action on television. He’d have liked to have been there when the cross first appeared, because he imagined it quickly drew their attention away from the TVs.

  But they now appeared to have grown used to the ominous sign and were apparently trying to follow the exploits of their leader. Wait till they saw what was coming next in the sky.

  Meanwhile, Mac wondered how he was supposed to locate Nicolae Carpathia in the sea of black below.

  CHAPTER 10

  Leah Rose had thought she was past impressing. She had been with Rayford, after all, when the judgment of 200 million demonic horsemen had invaded the earth and wiped out a third of the remaining population. And she had seen and endured, firsthand, all the judgments that followed.

  Leah and Hannah Palemoon, the younger nurse who had become such a close friend, were the first to run from the infirmary when word came that the sign of the Son of Man had appeared. It was not the first time they had ventured out that evening. They had also seen the lightning show.

  They had been discussing their collective guilt over leaving Lionel Whalum to handle things at the Co-op. He had help, sure, but they had been his assistants for months and were only recently pressed back into nursing duties because of various ailments, injuries, and illnesses throughout Petra. These maladies were solely among the spiritually undecided, which Leah thought should be a lesson to all.

  But if there was one thing she had learned since becoming a fugitive from the Global Community, it was that people learned slowly. She had been taught and had heard over and over that mankind would be blind to the acts of God: they would see His mighty works and yet still reject Him and choose their own path. It was no longer a matter of unbelief. That was clear. No one in his right mind c
ould see all that had gone on over the last seven years, starting with the Rapture, and still claim not to know this was the ultimate battle between good and evil, heaven and hell, God and the devil.

  So if it was not unbelief, as had been Leah’s own problem in the pre-Rapture world, what was it? Were people insane? No, she decided, they were self-possessed, narcissistic, vain, proud. In a word, evil. They saw the acts of God and turned their backs on Him, choosing the pleasures of sin over eternity with Christ.

  God had, in the meantime, hardened many hearts. And when these unbelievers changed their minds—or tried to—they were not even capable of repenting and turning to God. That had seemed unfair to Leah at first, but as the years rolled by and the judgments piled up, she began to see the logic of it. God knew that eventually sinners would grow weary of their own poverty, but His patience had a limit. There came a time when enough was enough. People had had way more than enough information to make a reasonable choice, and the sad fact was they had made the wrong one, time and time again.

  Well, today was really the end. No question God’s mercy still extended to His chosen people. He, through His servants like Tsion and Chaim and the 144,000 witnesses, still pleaded with unbelievers in the final remnant to come to Him. And to hear it from Chang’s sources, millions were doing just that.

  But Leah was intrigued to see that she was not, after all, unable to be further impressed. For when she and Hannah finally returned to the infirmary, she was staggered to find that everyone there had been healed. Everyone. No one was sick, hurt, or lame. All were up and about, congratulating each other, getting dressed, and leaving without even checking themselves out.

  Best of all, many of the formerly undecided were on their knees, crying out to God to save them. And all around them were remnant volunteers, counseling them, praying with them.

  “We, Hannah,” Leah said, “are out of work.”

  She called Rayford, only to find that he was already up, dressed, and looking for action.

 

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