Salvation | Book 1 | Salvation

by McNeil, Nick

  Unknown location, Washington

  6:45 a.m.

  Ezekiel scrunched his toes on the luscious greenery. He stretched out across the lawn; he could almost feel the sun’s rays through the artificial lighting. His mind didn’t seem to wander. When he chose to think about the positives, the chaos in the world never entered his mind. When he chose to focus on the negatives, he thought objectively. He sat up and looked around for anyone else who may have stayed behind. He approached the guards who were ordered to watch him, each of them armed with an assault rifle.

  “If I may.” Ezekiel fidgeted with his rope belt. “Is anyone else, besides us, here right now?”

  One of the guards was a middle-aged man with blond hair and blue eyes. The other was about the same age, although he bore green eyes and had brown hair. They looked at each other. “It’s just us, the two doctors, the herbalist, maintenance men, the radio room, and the people who grow the crops,” the blond guard answered. “Why do you ask, sir?”

  “I haven’t been informed much of this place yet.” Ezekiel already understood that his being chosen as a prophet was rare; however, he did not yet understand just how far his authority went. “I am surprised more elderly did not stay behind.”

  “I am not sure if you noticed, sir,” the blue-eyed man inserted, “but aside from our savior Gideon, no one is over the age of forty-nine.”

  “I can also see there are no women. Are they hidden away somewhere too?” Ezekiel cracked, nudging one of the guards.

  “Outside of marriage, there is no reason for women,” the guard replied. “For this is the will of God, our sanctification. When we abstain from sexual immorality, we learn how to control our bodies in holiness and honor. And certainly not in the passion of lust.”

  “That makes it sound like you assume women are only for sexual intercourse? While it is, of course, a very great part of marriage.” Ezekiel adjusted his robe, pulling more and less fabric above and below his belt. “There are many other reasons to take a wife.”

  The two guards squinted and looked at each other, puzzled by Ezekiel’s remarks. “Women are for nothing more than just that, sir. Intercourse and procreation.”

  “Okay, so we won’t start any of those conversations.” Ezekiel twisted the wedding ring on his finger. “But as men”—he unnaturally punched one of the guards in a playful manner—“you don’t ever stress about not ever getting laid again?”

  The guards laughed. “No one ever said that, sir.”

  “Pardon?” Dinesh’s father scratched his chin. Typically he was clean shaven; however, a full layer of stubble had grown in.

  “Before the eighth day,” the blond guard followed up, “before the Lord returns, we are all to be wed. Gideon has found brides for each one of us.”

  “How, how is that possible?” Ezekiel leaned closer.

  “We are to marry the Disciple’s Daughters on the night of the seventh day.” The green-eyed guard used the strap on his rifle to hold it like a backpack, pointing the barrel at the ceiling. “That is why Gideon has gone to bring our lost prophet, Abraham, back to us. He is to marry the mother of the Disciple’s Daughters, and on the same night we are to all marry the three hundred Daughters.”

  “Hold on. Back it up.” Ezekiel massaged his temples and closed his eyes. “You mean to tell me there is another organization, a sister organization, that is essentially the exact same as this one. But with a bunch of women?”

  “That is correct,” the green-eyed guard replied.

  “Sir.” The blond guard massaged Ezekiel’s shoulder and caressed his cheek. “I can see you are getting worked up. Maybe if we show you around, it can help answer a few of your questions and ease your worries.” The guard pressed toward the very back of the sanctuary, opposite the entrance. “This way.”

  “So you guys have something planned for each day?” Ezekiel hypothesized.

  “The Lord has a plan for each day, yes. And through Gideon we are told God’s plan,” a guard replied.

  “And you just trust that Gideon is telling you the word of God?” Ezekiel followed up.

  “We trusted that God delivered Moses the Ten Commandments and that Moses didn’t make them up. So, yes. We trust him.” The blond guard grabbed a metal door handle that was hidden within the vines growing on the walls. “Some faith is blind.”

  Dinesh’s father stepped through the metal door and into an all-white room lined with dozens of planter boxes. Pillars were scattered throughout the room, holding up the ceiling of the large open room. Various vegetables, beans, and fruits grew within the planters. In the corner of the room was a chicken coop with at least a hundred hens, and a rooster was separated in a pen on the side.

  “This is unbelievable.” Ezekiel’s eyes looked like he’d seen his first fireworks show. “I can’t believe the sound of these chickens is contained out there. And this is enough for everyone?”

  “We go to the surface to hunt our meats, scavenge what we can. But a large number of crops are grown here. The chickens lay eggs daily as well,” the green-eyed guard followed up.

  The two men led Ezekiel through supply rooms, which were packed with common house supplies as well as a massive stockpile of dehydrated foods. They let him view the electrical room, along with the armory. The chef’s kitchen as well as the laundry room. The living quarters looked similar to that of an army boot camp—skinny bunk beds lined up in uniform rows, all with matching sheets.

  “This place is hard to fathom, if I am being entirely honest. It’s just short of technological perfection.” Ezekiel tugged his earlobe. “I am just struggling to understand two things, really.”

  “And what is that, sir?” The two men escorted their prophet back to the main part of the campus, back to the grassy sanctuary.

  Ezekiel opened his mouth several times before forming any words. “What is the point of all this, and where do I fit in?”

  “The goal is to create a new world in God’s image. The old world forsook the Lord in almost every way imaginable. This is our second chance for the promised land. Our second chance to do things according to scripture, the way God intended the first time.” The green-eyed guard believed every word he said; his voice spoke with honesty. “Most people give in to temptation and are taken by the devil because of it. But we, we were given a special opportunity for salvation. Another chance to make it into heaven because God loves us more than anything.”

  “And where do you fit in?” The blue-eyed, blond-haired man took a long breath and smiled. “Just as you wrote for the Lord once before, now you must write for him once more.”

  “Write?” Lines formed between Ezekiel’s eyes. “But I’m a coder, not an author.” He licked his lips. “Ah. That is the writing you mean. But what for?”

  “From the fruit of a man’s mouth he enjoys good, but the desire of the treacherous is violence,” the Son replied.

  “So that’s the loophole. If you bring destruction through coding, then you aren’t actually committing any violent acts?” Ezekiel tapped his fist against his lips lightly. “And if I refuse?”

  “Everyone comes to see the light, sir.” The blue-eyed blond guard sounded more menacing each time he spoke. Each obscenity he spoke of, he played off to be rational and just. “I am sure you will feel differently tomorrow when you meet your new wife.”

  “Tomorrow?” Dinesh’s father swallowed excessively. “If I am being truthful, giving in to all of this feels easier than fighting it. I haven’t witnessed any torturing or abuse since I have arrived,” Ezekiel pondered. “In fact, you even saved my life after my friends and family abandoned me and left me for dead. I feel safe here. I feel like nothing can harm me here except for whatever may be within these walls.”

  “The Lord protects us, yes. But each brother inside these walls would also sacrifice his life for the other. And for the covenant.” The guards placed their rifles on the grass and spoke with open arms.

  “This is what’s clouding my judgment the most.” Ezekiel sni
ffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You all seem so genuinely happy. I can’t tell if I feel safe because you guys are what I am supposed to be afraid of, or if because you truly are here to protect me.”

  “The fear of man brings a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord shall be safe.” The green-eyed guard placed his fingertips together in the shape of a steeple.

  “Of course, trust the Lord.” Ezekiel looked at the ground and squeezed blades of grass between his toes. “I have to say, I am shocked you two know so much. I figured something like the use of coding is something Gideon wouldn’t tell his followers. Or really any sort of actual details behind his master plan.”

  “I am sad that you do not recognize us, Ezekiel,” the green-eyed guard replied. “We are not just any followers. I am the prophet Noah, and this is Paul.” Noah pointed to the blond, blue-eyed man. “You must understand, this is not Gideon’s plan. Gideon simply delivers the word of the Lord.”

  “Noah,” a man screamed from across the sanctuary. “Paul,” he shrieked, booking it as fast as possible, kicking up grass behind him. “They said they’ve been trying to get through, but they couldn’t. Not until now. They tried but they couldn’t. Something terrible has happened, and they were trying to reach us.”

  “It’s okay.” Paul massaged the man’s shoulders and kissed him on the forehead. He acted like a maternal mother but spoke to people like they were equals. “In one sentence, please explain what you heard.”

  The man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I received a radio transmission from Aaron, and he said they were blindsided by the army and that at least two hundred men died.” He looked around. “I need another sentence, sir.”

  “Of course, speak up,” Paul urged.

  The radio man dried the sweat off his forehead using the sleeve of his robe. “Aaron said we must leave for the Disciple’s Daughters right now, and that the rest of the Sons will meet us there.”

  “Is that all?” Noah requested. He maneuvered his body and head around to force eye contact with the messenger. “This is dire.”

  “He said that it was to only be you three who leave.” The man shot Ezekiel a distant glance. “They said a squad from the Daughters was already dispatched in the area, and they should be arriving at any moment.”

  “I don’t think you should limit the man to one sentence next time.” Ezekiel tried to make a joke, hoping he could relieve his own nervousness. But instead the sound of his own heartbeat drowned out all other noise, taking him away from the conversation. His heart pounded not from anxiety, but a small piece of hope. Hope that maybe the Sons had captured his family. And they too could be with him once again.

  “We have no time to waste.” Paul inched away from the direction of the entrance. “I will go to the armory and meet you upstairs.”

  Noah grabbed Ezekiel by the arm and escorted him across the grassy campus. “This doesn’t seem like an appropriate way to treat a prophet,” Dinesh’s father gibed.

  “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as you work for the Lord, not human masters.” Noah proceeded to roughly guide Ezekiel across the sanctuary. “I consider nothing but what the Lord wants to accomplish. There are a few sets of shoes under the bed in the cabin upstairs. When we arrive, put on a pair, and do not waste time.” Noah eased his grip and led Ezekiel through the cave-like tunnel and into the cabin that rested on the surface.

  Ezekiel pulled out a pair of dirty sneakers and slipped them on. “I’m not sure what’s worse. Getting shot or putting these on without socks.”

  Paul entered the cabin with two rifles. “Sorry, Ezekiel. I can’t give you one of these right now. I’m sure you understand.”

  The sound of a car engine grew louder until Ezekiel could feel the engine’s vibrations inside the wooden shack. Paul stepped outside while Noah hung behind, waiting for Ezekiel to leave first. Waiting for them was an old-school pink Toyota 4Runner. The car had a six-inch lift and a full set of all-terrain tires. A woman with brunette hair up in a bun climbed out of the driver’s seat, and a dark-skinned woman with a buzz cut stepped out of the passenger’s seat. Both women wore short-shorts, a hooded sweatshirt, and were armed with assault rifles.

  “Hello, I’m Deborah.” The woman with a buzz cut approached first. “This is Anna.” She pointed to her partner with her head, keeping both hands on her firearm. “Peace be with you.”

  “And with your spirit,” Noah and Paul replied at the same time.

  “We assume you three are Noah, Ezekiel, and Paul?” Anna confirmed, standing a whole head shorter than Deborah, who was average height.

  “Your assumptions are correct.” Noah pulled his shoulder blades together in an attempt to crack his upper back. “We’ve been instructed to follow your lead.”

  “And where exactly does their lead go?” Ezekiel rubbed his brow in an attempt to prevent his oncoming headache.

  “Our destination is Portland, but I cannot guarantee what the Lord has planned between here and there.” Deborah waltzed to the SUV and opened the door to the back seat. “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” She gestured for them to step into the car, and the three men listened.

  West Pines, Washington

  6:50 a.m.

  The morning dew was strong; even where the sun beamed was still moist. Anyone who slept through the night would have guessed that it had rained. The first birds of the day chirped, but the songs that typically carried throughout the forest were still asleep. Cheltenham pulled a dripping wet camouflage tarp off a Tesla Model S. He popped open the front compartment of the car, which was already mostly full with camping supplies, and shoved his backpack in. Amadeus opened the car door and hopped into the driver’s seat. He opened the center console and pulled out a map of Washington State and a tape recorder with a tape already in it. Mr. C spread the map out across the passenger seat, reached into the front pocket on his vest, and pulled out a tiny black light. He shined it on the map, revealing hidden markings.

  “This is so stupid,” Amadeus shouted to himself as he crumpled up the map. “I haven’t even heard from her in years. How do I even know she is still alive?” Cheltenham started to feel claustrophobic inside his car and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. “No!” he cried out and pounded the steering wheel. “She would never give up on her plans.”

  Amadeus opened the map back up and flattened it out, trying to rub out most of the wrinkles. He shined his black light over the map, revealing a circle around the name “Sarah.” The name was written across Firwood, Washington, a town northeast of Portland. A path was highlighted on the map from Mr. C’s house to the small X written just under the name “Sarah.” The route was indirect, but avoided every main road.

  “She told you, Amadeus, she told you, do not wait, come immediately.” Cheltenham inhaled and held his breath for a few moments before letting the air out. He started his car. “I’m the only one who can do this.” Amadeus grabbed the tape recorder and hit play:

  Recording number one of… oh, Lord only knows how many of these damn tapes I am going to go through before we get through this shit storm. And yes, I mean shit storm. Maybe an EMP hit or even a nuke. There could have been a zombie outbreak or even some cool super virus. In all likelihood, the power probably just went out, but whatever. Regardless of what has happened, if you’re listening to this tape, it’s happened. Shit hit the fan.

  A woman’s voice played from the tape. Her vocabulary rolled off her tongue the same as a high school quarterback, yet her voice sounded like the bedside manner everyone wished their nurse had. It was sweet, humble, and confident.

  But that’s okay! Because that’s what these tapes are for. I am here to guide you on a graceful journey of saving the planet. Assuming you didn’t already drunkenly listen to them one stormy night after half a bottle of wine and a box of cheap pizza. Now, could I be more direct, say fewer words, and more facts? Sure, but that’s not fun. What’s a story without suspense?


  Cheltenham putted through the forest, weaving through trees and running over small shrubs.

  So sit back, and roll down the windows to your bugout vehicle. And lend your ears to me. The Mother of the Rapture. The Sister of Reckoning. The Aunt of Armageddon, and a bunch of other adjectives. I am Sarah Jones, and this is step one of how to kick my husband’s ass in the apocalypse.

  Amadeus took a moment to roll down his windows and crank up the volume on the tape player. His palms stopped sweating and his heart quit racing. The back roads were empty, and his anxiety had been left at home in his bunker.

  Step One: Kill him. Haha, I know. Sarah, you’re such a comedian, always so funny. What if it was an EMP or zombies like you mentioned before? Doesn’t matter. Abraham Jones still did it. I know, you’re asking me, “But seriously, what do we actually do?” And again I say kill that asshole. He’s smarter than you, he’s stronger than you, his shot is better than yours, and he’s prettier. Every time you think you have outsmarted him, it’s because he allowed it. Step one to the end of the actual world: try to outsmart Abraham Jones. He is whatever he wants to be and whatever you need him to be. If someone told me chameleons could take the form of humans, I would believe them after having met Abraham Jones.

  Pierce County, Washington

  7:05 a.m.

  The heat of the sun warmed the evergreen lands. It was out long enough to dry the morning dew where the light beamed but to stay moist where the trees shaded the land. The birds started their morning harmonies, and the few bugs Washington had came out to play. The Sons of Salvation were organized into two even lines outside the Jones property. They stood planted on the ground like statues, firearms drawn, but not aimed. Gideon stood front and center with his hands folded at his waist, Aaron and Elijah on each side of him.

  Abraham approached them with his arms spread wide and his chin in the air. “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the prophets,” he shouted. “I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” He stopped a few steps from Gideon, looked past him, and addressed the Sons. “I brought you the prophets you serve because I am the right hand of God. Do not forget whom you serve.” He looked Gideon in the eyes. “Now drop your weapons.”