The Remnant: On The Brink of Armageddon (23 page)

The Strong Building had been safe for only so long.

And now it would disgorge a few of them at a time into a hostile world that belonged to Antichrist and the False Prophet, the Global Community, and millions of searching eyes that demanded a sign of loyalty none of these had.

I could lose you, Vasily said.

Misplace you.

What can I say? You escaped.

Steve sat with him in the parking lot at Resurrection Airport.

What, I raced away in my chair, and you couldn’t keep up? Too late.

Let’s go.

It wasn’t easy, and Steve wasn’t going to pretend it was.

He had often wondered, when reading or seeing a movie about a condemned man, what it must have felt like to make that last long walk.

It wasn’t long enough, he felt, especially in a chair.

As they approached the loyalty mark application site in the north wing of the airport, Steve noticed the line was longer than he had seen it in ages.

The crackdown, the intensifying whatever New Babylon wanted to call it was working.

Hundreds milled around the statue of Carpathia, bowing, praying, singing, worshiping.

For the moment, the guillotine was silent.

In fact, Steve didn’t know if it had ever been used in this part of the state.

Some had been martyred near Denver.

Others in Boulder.

Maybe he would be the first here.

Perhaps no one was trained to use the facilitator.

But there it stood, gleaming and menacing, and those in line for the mark laughed nervously and kept glancing at it.

Steve was still in the part of the line that snaked its way to the decision-making point.

No one was expected to make the wrong choice, of course.

The stocky, sixtyish, red-haired woman with the documents and the files and the keyboard barely looked up as people identified themselves and chose what they wanted tattooed and where they wanted it.

As they were administered the mark, they raised their fists or whooped and hollered.

Then they made straight for the image, where they paid homage.

Steve had lived for his daily encouragement and education from Tsion Ben-Judah.

It had been his only form of church.

There was interaction between him and Rayford and him and Chang, and occasionally him and Buck or one of the others.

But he was starved for live contact with other believers.

That would be quickly remedied.

Steve debated whether to use his real name, to finally come clean and tell the GC he had been undercover for a long time.

But his name would easily be linked with Buck Williams from their days at the Weekly, and how long would it take to progress from there to the link with Rayford, then Chloe, then the Co op, and who knew? maybe even Chang? He couldn’t risk that kind of exposure, especially for people who didn’t know it was coming.

When it was finally Steve’s turn, the woman noticed easily in his dress uniform and said brightly, We’ve been expecting you two.

This must be Pinkerton Stephens.

In the flesh, Ginger, Steve said, studying her badge.

How about a nice 6 and a tasteful image of the supreme potentate? she said, looking him up and down, clearly puzzled by his garb.

And where would you put it? Steve said.

Your choice.

Well, this won’t work, he said, showing his stump.

Ginger’s smile froze, and she searched his eyes.

She had not found that amusing and looked as if she wanted to say so.

He had put her in an uncomfortable position, and she clearly didn’t like it.

And I understand it doesn’t work on plastic.

That is true, Ginger said, appearing relieved to move on.

Then we can’t put it here, can we? he said, knocking on his fake forehead.

Snap, snap, snap.

He popped off his combination nose and forehead appliance, exposing his eyeballs and brain sac.

Guess this would be the only option, Ginger, he said in the nasal voice resulting from no covering on the nose.

Oh! Oh, my ! Mr.

Stephens, I  Who wants to put it there? Steve said.

Who’ll volunteer for that chore? And when I wanted to display it, would I just pop my face off? She turned away.

I’m sure that will work.

It’s totally hygienic and should cause no problem.

I could take my mouthpiece off too, Ginger, if you want the full effect.

Please, no.

Well, anyway, I’m in the wrong line.

Pardon me? I’m not accepting the mark of loyalty.

You’re not? Well, that’s not really an option.

Oh, sure it is, Ginger.

I mean, the other is a much shorter line in fact, I’ll be the only one in it.

But it’s most definitely an option, isn’t it? You’re choosing the, uh, the loyalty enforce  I’m choosing the guillotine, Ginger.

I’m choosing death over pretending that Nicolae Carpathia is divine or ruler over anything.

She looked to Vasily.

Is he putting me on? Sadly, he’s not, ma’am.

Ginger studied Steve, then reached for her walkie talkie.

Ferdinand, we need someone to run the facilitator.

The what? You know! she whispered.

The facilitator.

The blade? You serious? Yes, sir.

Be right there.

A tall, balding man with red cheeks hurried over.

You’re not taking the mark? he said.

Yes, Steve said, but I thought I would try the blade first.

Please, can we just get on with this? Do I have to go through the whole ordeal again? This is no joking matter.

It’s no redundant matter either, so could you just do what you have to do and get me processed? There is no processing.

You just sign, stipulating that you made this choice of your own free will, and we, ah, you  Die  Yes  Do I get some last words?  Anything you want.

Cheeks found the proper form, Steve signed Pinkerton Stephens, and the man said, You realize this is your last chance to change your mind.

About Carpathia being Antichrist, evil personified? About Leon Fortunato being the False Prophet? Yes, I know.

No changing my mind.

Dyed in the wool, aren’t we?  Let’s just say I’ve thought it through.

Clearly.

Steve glanced at Vasily, who had paled and held a hand over his mouth.

Others in the line murmured and pointed, and now all eyes were on the strange looking wounded man in the undershirt.

Ferdinand slipped between a couple of chairs and went to study the guillotine.

They say it can be run by one person, he said.

He looked up.

Over here, Mr.

Stephens.

Steve rolled to a line four feet in front of the contraption.

His belly began to tighten and his breath came in short puffs.

God, be with me, he said silently.

Give me the grace.

Give me the courage.

The grace came.

The courage he wasn’t so sure about.

He wished he were at a facility with more experience.

Ferdinand had raised the blade to its full height, but as he worked with the elements at the business end of the shaft, he looked tentative and kept peeking up and pulling his fingers back.

I think if that safety lever is set, you’re okay, Steve said.

Oh, sure enough.

Thank you.

Don’t mention it.

You can owe me.

It took Ferdinand a second, but that elicited a wry look.

He set the restraining bar in place, none too easily, then found the release cord and surveyed the whole scene once more.

Kenny was asleep.

Buck sat hunched before the TV, to which he had hooked his phone.

Chang had devised some digital marvel to transmit the images from Colorado.

A TV camera in a corner showed the entire area, and Chloe pointed.

That’s him, Buck.

He’s right there.

Buck’s chest felt heavy and he was short of breath.

Steve was the only one before the guillotine, and a man seemed to be fiddling with it.

Do you have a basket of some sort? Steve said.

Excuse me? Ferdinand said.

A container? Unless you wanted to just chase after my  Yes! Thank you.

One moment.

Steve wanted to say, Happy to be of service.

Ferdinand found a corrugated box that for some reason had been lined with tinfoil.

Steve didn’t even want to think about why.

Now, the man said, looking up, if I can get you to come here.

Steve rolled close.

Can you get down, or 55 I can get myself in there, Steve said, though it seems a little lacking in customer service that I should be expected to  I will get assistance.

No! I will get situated, once I’ve had my say.

Oh yes, your say.

Now is the time.

Feel free.

Will this be recorded? The man nodded.

Well, then .  Steve spun halfway around to face those in line for the mark of loyalty.

Their eyes would not meet his, but he sensed a hunger on their faces for what they clearly felt privileged to soon see.

I don’t expect you to believe me or to agree or to change your minds, he began.

But I want to go on record for my own sake anyway.

I have chosen the guillotine today so that I can be with God.

I am a believer in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the maker of heaven and earth.

I renounce Nicolae Carpathia, the evil one, Satan incarnate.

When you take his mark today, you once and for all forfeit your chance for eternal life in heaven.

You will be bound for hell, and even if you want to change your mind, you will not be able to.

I wish more of my life had been dedicated to the one who gave his for me, and into his hands I commit myself, for the glory of God.

Steve spun back around, launched himself out of the chair and into the guillotine.

Please just do it quickly, Ferdinand, he said.

Buck could not take his eyes from the screen.

Chloe sat next to him, her face buried in her hands.

The picture disappeared, but Buck sat there for almost an hour.

Finally his phone chirped.

It was Chang, who also sounded shaken.

A confidential note was added to the report from personnel at the loyalty center, he said.

It tells Suhail Akbar, `You will no doubt be hearing from the Global Community command center in Colorado, which will need not only a replacement for the deceased Pinkerton Stephens, but also for his second in command, Vasily Medvedev.

The latter was just found in his GC automobile.

Medvedev died of a self inflicted gunshot to the head.

‘ Of course, neither death was reported on the Global Community News Network.

By the time Ming Toy landed in Shanghai after flying all night, she was more than exhausted.

She had made the seemingly interminable flight many times before, but she could not sleep this time because she was getting to know the pilot.

He was an acquaintance, if not a friend, of George Sebastian’s.

And while she had not met George, they had many mutual friends by now.

Her pilot, a South Korean named Ree woo, had been a naturalized American citizen at the time of the Rapture and was stationed at the same base as Sebastian.

Everyone knew George, woo said.

He was the biggest man most of us had ever seen, let alone the biggest on the base.

There was nothing George couldn’t do.

woo had been a pilot trainer specializing in small, fast, maneuverable craft with high fuel capacity and thus long distance capability.

I was unusual for a Korean-American, Mr.

Chow, because I acted more American than Asian, even though I did not move to America until after I was a teenager.

I had no religion.

I would have made a good Chinese.

You grew up atheist, I bet.

I did, Ming said, but Korea, especially South Korea, is about half Christian, half Buddhist, isn’t it? Yes! But I was neither.

I wasn’t really an atheist either.

I was just nothing.

I didn’t think about religion.

My feeling was, there might be a God; I didn’t know and didn’t care, as long as if there was one, he left me alone.

I worshiped me, you know what I mean? Of course.

Didn’t we all? All my friends, we all worshiped ourselves.

We wanted fun, girls, cars, things, money.

You too? I want to hear the rest of your story, Ree, Ming said, but it’s time for me to use my real voice and tell you the truth.

He leaned toward her and squinted in the darkness at the change in her tone.

No, she said.

I never wanted girls.

I wanted boys.

He recoiled, smiling.

Really? It’s not like that, she said.

I am a girl.

In fact, I am a grown woman.

I have been married.

I am a widow.

Now you are putting me on! I’m telling you the truth.

And she told her own story for the next hour or so.

Would you believe I have heard of your brother? Woo said.

No!  It’s true! No one mentions his name, but many in our underground group in San Diego know he is there, inside the palace.

Woo then finished his own story of how scared he was when the disappearances occurred.

I did not know such fear existed.

Nothing ever bothered me before.

I was a daredevil.

That’s why I wanted to fly, and not big commercial jets or helicopters or props.

I wanted to fly the fastest, most dangerous.

I had many close calls, but they only thrilled me and never made me cautious or careful.

I couldn’t wait to live on the edge of danger again.

But when so many people disappeared, I was so scared I could not sleep.

I went to bed with the light on.

Don’t laugh! I did! I knew something terrible and supernatural had happened.

It was as if only an event that huge could have slowed me down and made me think about anything.

Why did these people vanish? Where did they go? Would I be next? I asked everybody I knew, and even many people who were just like me and had never even been inside a church started saying that it was something God did.