The End is Now (28 page)

“Arrested?” Curtis asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Clayton answered.

“Just for being on the streets?”

“Afraid so.”

“Is that fair?”

“This has nothing to do with fair. Fair flew out the window once Goodland citizens started destroying their town. This is
about order,” Mr. Clayton said. He went on to explain that there was looting, fighting, fires, car wrecks, and all other sorts
of lawlessness that needed to be squelched in the streets of Good-land. That’s why they had to deputize so many citizens.
He said, “Every soul in the city of Goodland has to know the strong hand of the law is nearby. They have the right to
believe
whatever they want. But once their
actions
start damaging lives and property, that’s another thing. That has to stop. That has to be met with consequences.”

Then he went back to the phone. Mr. Clayton had answered one call after another as soon as Emily had arrived. She overheard
some of his conversations. He kept insisting that he was the mayor’s right-hand man and it was his duty to make sure order
was restored. His last conversation ended with him saying, “I’ll be right over.”

As Mr. Clayton was putting on his jacket, he looked at Emily. “I’m going over to your house.”

“My house?”

“The mayor wants to talk with your brother over a fried chicken dinner. He wants Will to give him the next sign.”

“Oh,” Emily said.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Emily thought about it for a moment. It was a ride back to her family’s house. She could be with them. When they needed her.
But they were about to have the mayor over. She would just be shoved into a corner. Will was the important one right now.
He’d become the most influential and powerful member of the Henderson family. And maybe that was okay. Deep down somewhere,
she still loved her parents, and if they had Will to focus on they wouldn’t miss her so much. So she told Mr. Clayton, “No,
I think I’ll hang out with Curtis for a while.”

“Okay,” Mr. Clayton said. Then he looked at Curtis, “Stay in the house. There’s a town meeting tonight at six. You should
be ready to go by five.”

“Yes sir,” Curtis said. And Mr. Clayton left the house.

Before long she and Curtis had to get ready for the meeting and they had to really bundle up because it was so cold outside.
He let her wear one of his coats and she thought it was a nice gesture, but the coat smelled like boy and it was
so
not cute on her. She thought she looked frumpy in it but Curtis insisted she bring it just in case. She really didn’t want
to, but Curtis said, “It’s gonna get really cold out there.” Emily and Curtis went back and forth like this for a while, and
then once they stopped talking Emily realized that they’d had their first fight. Maybe marriage wasn’t all it was cracked
up to be.

But she couldn’t stay mad at him for very long, because they got to ride to the town meeting in a really nice car, and once
they were inside they were taken to a very fancy room where a bunch of politician-type people were. They were talking about
policies and a bunch of other things that were boring to Emily. She just wanted to eat all of the tasty food. She poured herself
a glass of wine but she noticed one of the gray-haired men staring at her as if to say, “I know how old you are,” and so she
handed it to one of the politicians.

Then, before Emily knew it, she ran into her mother. She felt guilty seeing her there. Her dad wasn’t even around and she
knew her family was falling apart. Emily could tell that her mom wanted to get into some sort of intense conversation. Luckily,
it didn’t go on for very long. Quickly, all of the mayor’s people said it was time and then she and her old family and her
new family were standing in front of all of Goodland. The mayor started to talk. And then he introduced Will to give his prophecy
to the whole town. He was talking about a rooster crowing and a harvest coming and Emily couldn’t help but think this is all
so crazy; his last prophecy hasn’t come true, and they’re all still clinging to every word he says like he’s Abraham Lincoln
or Jesus or someone like that.

And that’s when the mayor fell down. There was a soft thud as he hit the ground. And then he started gasping for air like
he was drowning. And this was all happening in front of Emily. She couldn’t have been more than ten feet away from him.

“He’s dead,” one of the assistants said.

“What do you mean he’s dead?” another assistant asked.

“I mean he’s not breathing, he’s not moving and he doesn’t have a heartbeat or any other signs of life that
alive
people normally have.”

“So he’s dead.”

Emily looked up from the mayor. She looked at all of the people in the arena. Nearly every person she’d ever known was there.
She could see them all bundled up with scarves, hats, and mittens. She could see her teachers, neighbors, parents’ friends,
the paperboy, the milkman, and every student who had hopefully elected her homecoming queen huddled together.

And now they were all staring at the dead mayor.

Emily had to back away quickly as paramedics, EMTs, and other professional-looking-type personnel were rushing around the
mayor. They were shouting orders and pulling out all kinds of medical equipment. But if the mayor’s assistants were right,
then all of this work was in vain — there was nothing for the trained professionals to do other than put the mayor in a body
bag and zip it shut. Maybe the paramedics were putting on a little show because they didn’t want the town to worry.

This was all so unbelievable.

Just moments ago everything seemed so calm. Emily had watched the mayor explain what was happening and what had to be done.
His words were so great that she wondered if Mr. Clayton had written them himself — they were the words of a seasoned politician
and she’d never seen the mayor talk that way, but Mr. Clayton talked that way all the time. He probably wrote everything the
mayor said that night. He probably wrote
all
of the mayor’s speeches. She felt powerful that her father-in-law-to-be could write such great speeches, and because his
words were working. They made her feel like everything was going to be all right.

But then the unthinkable happened. It almost seemed like God struck the mayor dead. Does God still do that? Does he still
strike people dead? Isn’t that a little Old Testament? It seemed a little unkind and erratic of God if he did strike the mayor
dead. What did the mayor ever do to God?

Emily got frustrated with herself for thinking this way. Thinking everything has to do with God is how her mother would think.

As Emily watched the medical staff wheel the mayor on a gurney through the dirt on the rodeo floor, suddenly some man darted
out of the stands and started running towards the stage. He was bundled up and he looked crazy. He was screaming. He was waving
his hands. Emily feared that maybe he was coming to assassinate her new father-in-law. As the crazy man got closer, Emily
could hear what he was screaming. He was screaming, “We’ll! We’ll!
We’ll!
”

We’ll?

We’ll what?

It seemed like this crazy man thought of himself like some sort of prophet. Doesn’t everybody these days? He was trying to
tell the town of something “we’ll” soon be doing. But Emily had no idea what they’d be doing. We’ll be dead by morning? We’ll
know the truth soon? We’ll be raptured at any moment?

As Emily thought this, the crazy man was suddenly very close. And that was when she realized two things: One, the man wasn’t
screaming “We’ll!” he was screaming “Will!” and two, that crazy man was her father. She didn’t know whether to be completely
mortified or if she should go out to help him. While she was trying to decide, two of the mayor’s secret service agents in
black suits ran out and tackled him. Emily’s dad actually landed a couple of punches on the secret service agents, which kind
of impressed Emily because she’d never seen her dad stand up to anyone, let alone punch them. But he didn’t last long. Quickly,
they had her dad on the ground and the whole scene looked like the calf tying at the rodeo in the summer, with the secret
service agents playing the part of the cowboys and her father playing the part of the helpless calf. The agents handcuffed
her father, and as they were carrying him out of the stadium, he looked at Will and said, “I understand now, Will. I saw the
face in the TV. It told me everything.” Then Jeff looked at Emily. “Hey honey, I love you. We’ll talk soon.”

At that moment Emily thought maybe she’d picked the perfect time to join a new family.

After her father’s outburst, the stadium was starting to stir like spooked cattle. It started with whispers, but quickly the
whispers turned to murmurs, which turned into a few people standing up and shouting. Emily could hear them crying out, “There’s
nothing we can do. We can’t stop this with nice plans and government systems!” “They’re going to take us all!” “I’m sorry.
Whoever you are. I’m sorry for everything! Take me too!”

Emily took a deep breath and clutched Curtis’ hand. She’d seen those soccer games in Europe where the whole stadium went wild,
where flares flew onto the field and police with riot gear and shields threw tear gas into the crowd. Usually in those scenes
someone got trampled near a fence and a whole bunch of people got hurt. Emily didn’t want to get trampled near a fence. She
wished the whole town would just calm down. And that’s when Mr. Clayton stepped up to the microphone, and in a commanding
voice, said, “The mayor is receiving medical attention right now. We are doing everything we can to take care of him. But
in the meantime, these outbursts have to stop! If we’re going to survive — ”

“We’re not going to survive!” a woman in the crowd screamed.

“
— If
we’re going to survive,” Mr. Clayton continued like a parent scolding his children, “you have to have faith in me and we
must start working together. We must coexist. And since we seem to be unable to do that without guidance, we are putting some
systems into place to ensure our safety. These are the same systems the mayor himself was planning to put in place before
he became incapacitated. Because he is not here, I will be leading these new initiatives.

“First, the heads of households will be assigned an odd or even number. Those numbers will be put onto everyone’s hands with
what is called a henna tattoo. It cannot be washed off right away as to ensure that no one will switch numbers, but it will
wash off in about two to three weeks so you can rest assured that it is not permanent.

“Even-numbered citizens will be allowed to get rations of food and supplies on Mondays and Thursdays. Odd-numbered citizens
will be allowed to get rations on Tuesdays and Fridays. The heads of households will be the only people given numbers, so
they can get food and supplies for their families on the appropriate days. Hopefully, within a week at the most, we will have
stores restocked and we will no longer need the numbers.

“Secondly, we are starting a curfew from sunset on until this city can get back to normal. Business owners may go and work
on repairing damage and get your shops ready for business again, but please, everyone, let’s be respectful of everyone’s property.
We will not be allowing any rallies and large public gatherings for the next week. I respect the first amendment as much as
anyone, but I do not want any more riots or mass paranoia. We need to put an end to this mob mentality. Leaders of all groups,
I ask that you respect this policy, and if you do not, then you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

“I know these new rules are a bit harsh and even a little extreme, but hopefully they will only be put into place for a couple
of days. Then we can get back to normal. But if that’s going to happen, we need a little dose of reality, everyone. Now you’re
dismissed. If you’re the head of a household, you may get your number and then take your family home. And be careful out there,
the roads are still very slick,” Mr. Clayton said and then walked off the stage.

Emily smiled and squeezed Curtis’ hand. Mr. Clayton did such a good job. She thought everyone received what he had to say
rather warmly.

Drivetime with Gary & Gayle
was far and away the most popular morning radio talk show in Goodland. And it turned out that Gary’s views lined up politically,
religiously, and philosophically with the Prepared’s, while Gayle’s views were straight down the line in sync with the Realists.
Gayle laughed lots and lots on air while Gary was always somewhat gruff and serious. It’s ratings magic. The people of Goodland
couldn’t get enough of their banter. And the night after the town meeting they had to have a special edition of
Drivetime
.

There was lots to talk about.

Nothing was more pressing than the mayor’s death and Adam Clayton. Gary was somewhat confident that the new mayor was the
Antichrist. Mr. Clayton had the right characteristics: He claimed that he could do miracles and signs and wonders. (He didn’t
exactly claim he could do miracles but he did claim he could restore order back to Goodland, which was kind of like a miracle,
and he told the town that they should depend on him and his systems instead of trusting in God, which was definitely a delusion
of grandeur.)

“A delusion of grandeur?” Gayle asked.

“Absolutely,” Gary answered. “Did you see him up there? He was so smug. He was acting like it was such a gift that we had
him.”

“He was acting like a man who’s trying to lead a town that’s been rattled by death and natural disaster.”

“Let’s see what the callers think. We’ve got Desmond from east Goodland. What do you think, Des?”

“Until tonight I’ve never heard of Adam Clayton. Which is why he’s clearly the Antichrist. Second Thessalonians says, ‘He,’
meaning the Antichrist, ‘will oppose and will exalt himself over everything… and now you know what is holding him back, so
that he may be revealed at the proper time.’
The proper time
. I mean, come on Gayle, what time could be more proper than when the town is scared out of its mind?” Desmond said.