The Camouflaged Cross: Tales Of Christian Preppers In The End Times (Just Run Book 1) (7 page)

The trail straightened out but a few low branches blocked the path ahead. “Oh well, let’s face it, who am I kidding?” Peter added. “I would be the one who gets volunteered to do it.”

“We could drill some holes into the middle of the road with the post-hole digger, then drop down a few sticks of dynamite. I don’t know. You’re the Marine. Isn’t that how it is done?”

“Yes, that’s the way to do it. Hey, watch your head.” Peter let go of a branch that would have hit Kathy’s head but she ducked in time.

“Thanks.”

“Kathy, I was wondering. Hey, watch this root.” Peter stepped over a tree root that came up about seven inches from the trail floor. He pulled the game cart over the root.

“Wondering about what?” Kathy stepped over the root.

The two continued down the trail. “Well, I know it is none of my business, and feel free to not answer this, but what happened between you and Kirk? I mean, I worked for him in his machine shop until I enlisted. Then I hear you started going out with him. You know, I was in Iraq and I got one of those letters with all the news from home. I read that you guys were getting pretty close, maybe even getting married. That’s all I heard. Next thing I knew, Kirk was getting married to Jackie and people were collecting money to help pay for the honeymoon.”

“Well, you’re right. It’s none of your business.”

“Alright. Forget I asked. I’m just doing some 20-20 hindsight here. I figure that if you were still with Kirk, he would be alive right now. But never mind. None of my business.”

“No, that’s OK. I guess I still have feelings for him. That’s probably pretty obvious. I know it’s been a few years. I still resent Jackie busting us up. Kirk never knew what hit him. Some women are good at that.”

Peter, trying to change the subject, said “Hey, did you notice how, when the news came out that Kirk was killed, it seemed like everyone looked at us. At least that is how it felt for me. I think you and I were his closest friends up here.”

“And Jackie…”

“Ho boy,” Peter sighed. “She really blew it.”

“Yeah, you got that right.”

The two walked in silence some more, rounding another turn to the right. One of the wheels of the game cart started to squeak slightly.

Kathy said, “If I ever start to take the Mark, you have my permission to kill me.”

“I think there is more to it than that.”

“How’s that?”

“Look, I’m not a theologian, but I do know this. The Mark is something that you don’t just choose to take. We are already marked by God. Anyone who takes the Mark has already, whether they know it or not, chosen to follow Satan. It’s an act of worship. The Mark just finalizes it. And there is no turning back.”

“Wait,” Kathy paused. “So you’re saying … are you saying the Mark is more like a symptom of some other problem? Something that comes along and happens when you have already made the decision before it?”

“That’s the way I understand it. There’s no turning back. See, if you are really saved, a real Christian, then you can’t lose your salvation. That was in 1
st
Corinthians I think. Your faith can grow dormant, but you will always be a Christian. So,” Peter got quiet as he saw a clearing up ahead. “That means that a real Christian will never take the Mark. You can’t. You’re already marked by God.”

“So anyone who takes the Mark was never a real Christian in the first place. That sounds kind of Calvinist. Like anything un-Christian that happens to a Christian means that the Christian was never a Christian to begin with.”

“Yeah, I know, it sounds kind of circular. But it is real. That’s how it is. A real Christian sins but will never take the Mark. By the way, I am always nervous about this clearing up here. I try to walk around the edges, closer to the forest, so I don’t stick out so much.”

“You are a well-trained Marine.”

“Oh right. I learned about hiding in thick forests when I was in Iraq,” Peter joked.

“I wish I could keep my wits about me in the middle of bad news like you can. You have had a pretty good attitude about all this.”

“Thanks.”

“As for me, I have been going from shock of our current situation, to sadness, and now to anger over the killing of my ex-boyfriend. For me, laughing or even trying to crack a joke is impossible. I’m not like the happy twins, Justin and Tracy, you know. Or, to a lesser extent, you. Laughing for me right now is a totally foreign concept. And it has been that way for me since that peace conference in Jerusalem. I haven’t had a big laugh in who knows how long. At least a month.”

The two followed the trail back into dense forest. “I thought that was smart of Jesse to tell us all at that meeting a few days ago to encourage jokes and laughter,” Peter said. “Even corny jokes. It lightens things up a little, and I think it works.”

“Not with me. I find it impossible to laugh or be happy when I’m in a stressful situation, or in a setting where I feel like I don’t belong. We’re in this retreat, and I know I have to be here, but it doesn’t feel like home. I can’t laugh. Laughing would imply that I am comfortable where I am.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Or, like today, when I’m nearby someone who gets killed. I’m too shocked to even think about anything funny.”

“Well, I remember the shock I had in Iraq. I had just finished training, then I flew to Iraq and within a day or two I started seeing real killing. I mean, killing that was right in front of me.”

“What did you do?”

“I started reading my Bible. And it wasn’t a casual thing. I read the Bible so intensely that I felt like I was almost memorizing it. I would dwell on a whole sentence at a time. I would read a sentence and wonder, ‘why did God have that sentence put there?’ I would think about it and then go on to the next verse. Anyway, they say that there are no atheists in foxholes, and they’re right. I was never in a foxhole but being so close to all the carnage there brought me straight to the Bible. There is something completely soothing about reading the Bible. The ‘peace that passes all understanding.’ That kind of thing.”

The two hiked for a while in silence.

“OK Kathy, we are getting pretty close to the road up here. When we get there I just need you to look out for me while I get Kirk’s body and load it up into this cart.”

“OK. Oh, this is disgusting. Here is the smell people have been talking about.”

“More like bragging about.”

****

Peter came to the end of the trail, onto the dirt road in front of the roadblock. He looked both ways out onto the road, then he and Kathy left the brush and walked onto the dirt road, a quarter of a mile from the observation post. On the other side and downhill from the road was a steep drop, and beyond that was the valley below.

Peter carefully placed some branches back onto the opening of the trail. They walked on the dirt road towards the roadblock, right where the pick-up trucks had parked when the men killed Kirk.

“Peter, if you don’t mind, I’ll stay back.” Kathy covered her mouth and nose. She turned around and walked back toward the trail opening. She looked to the other end of the road from where David and Sean first saw the trucks arrive. “The smell here is… Well, I’ll stop complaining. I just didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“It sure is.” Peter approached the roadblock and started emptying the trash bag. Bloody deer intestines flowed out of the bag and onto some leaves and branches that were part of the roadblock. Peter looked to his right and saw Kirk’s body deeper into the roadblock, covered with flies.

“I see his head. It’s over here,” Kathy said, pointing. “I really wish I hadn’t seen that.”

“I’ll get it. You can go back into the trail if you want.”

“I just might.” Kathy stood at the opening of the trail.

“If you go back into the trail, make sure to keep the brush there that covers the opening. No one but us knows about that trail.”

Peter approached Kirk’s body with the green duffle bag. He grabbed a leg and pulled the body closer. Peter whispered, “You were a good man, Kirk. You didn’t deserve this. I love you, brother.”

Peter put Kirk’s body into the duffel bag, shoulders first. Kirk’s body fit into the bag but the boots stuck out the top. Peter looked up the wooded hill on the other side of the roadblock. He could barely make out where the observation post was, in the middle of thick forest. He nodded in the direction of the post, then walked towards Kathy.

“Peter, I really thought I would be better at this. This is really unbearable. I need to sit down.” Kathy sat down on the ground. Her gun holster stuck out from her waist. “I feel sick.”

Peter approached Kirk’s severed head. “That’s OK, Kathy. You can start back if you want.” Peter grabbed Kirk’s hair and picked up the head. “OK, now even I’m getting nauseated,” he whispered. He put the head in the bag and tightened the draw-string. Kirk’s boots still stuck out of the top of the duffel bag, which Peter then dragged onto the game cart.

*****

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Jackie stepped out from behind a turn in the road that had been hidden by a hill. She walked towards Peter. Her eyes were puffy. She had clearly been crying.

“Jackie,” Peter said. “How long have you been here?”

Kathy stood up and emerged from the trail with her gun pointed towards Jackie, who looked shocked at the gun pointed at her.

“Who are you?” Jackie asked Kathy.

“Oh give me a break, Jackie. You know who I am. Stop lying.”

“Kathy, put the gun down,” Peter said. Kathy holstered her gun.

“Oh yes, I remember you,” Jackie said to Kathy.

“Hey, why did you let them do this to Kirk?” Kathy asked as she walked closer and put her gun back into its holster.

“You weren’t there. I tried to save him.” Tears rolled down Jackie’s cheeks. “I couldn’t do anything.”

“Jackie, I’m sorry for your loss,” Peter said. “We heard about what happened and we came to get Kirk’s body so that we could bury it. You know I was a good friend of Kirk’s and I don’t want to leave his body out here.”

“Well, good,” Jackie said. She took a deep breath. “That’s good. Thanks. I can’t stand this area but I just wanted to come by one last time. It’s not like I could bury him myself.”

Peter put down the game cart. Jackie clearly tried to avoid looking at it. Peter asked, “Jackie, who were those guys and how did they get you and Kirk?”

Jackie looked Kathy over. She looked at the ground. “What?”

“The people who brought you and Kirk and the other people here, who were they?”

“Local Muslim enforcers. More like thugs. This is the stuff they do, and it is sanctioned by the provisional government. These guys just came by our house and banged on our door and pointed their guns at us. The guy in charge ordered us to the back of that truck and they tied our hands with cords. Stuff like this has been going on a lot lately. It’s a way to keep control over the people. Violence is pretty much all they know. The animals…”

Kathy asked, “How about some names? Do you know any of their names? What did they call each other?”

“I never heard any names at all,” Jackie answered, confused.

“The guy who was in charge, the leader: what about his clothing or marks like tattoos or anything? Anything you can tell me to help me find this guy?” Kathy asked.

“Anything to help
you
find him?” Jackie asked angrily. “Look, all I remember is a Muslim guy, middle-eastern, so-so English, a little on the short side, wearing dark green clothes. He had brown hair and a beard. That’s about it.”

“Any jewelry, like a watch or a necklace or anything?”

“No, nothing. It’s hard to notice these things when someone has a gun pointed at you,” Jackie snapped.

“Aren’t you even slightly interested in finding the scumbag who was in charge of these thugs? Wouldn’t you like to track him down?”

“Oh, and get myself killed, too? No thanks.”

Kathy looked at Peter. “I want to find that dirt bag someday.”