Left Behind Series - The Remnant Part 68

"I'm telling you, the man is inhuman! He had been outside, sunbathing!"

"Leon . . . " "It's true! He was so hot I could not stand within twenty feet of him! The soles of his shoes were smoking! I saw sparks in his hair, which was bleached white even his eyebrows. His shirt collar and cuffs and tie had been singed as if the dry cleaner had over ironed them, and

the b.u.t.tons on his suit and shirt had melted..

"The man is a G.o.d, impervious to pain. It's as if he prefers being outside in this!"

One day Chang overheard Carpathia call Technical Services. "I would like a telescope set up that would point directly at the sun at noonday."

"I can do that, Your Highness," a man said. "But of course I would have to do it after dark."

"And might it have recording capability?"

"Of course, sir. What would you like to record?"

"Whether the sun has grown and if bursts of flame from its surface would be visible."

The instrument was set up and calibrated that night, and Chang watched the next day as Carpathia hurried outside at noon. He actually peered at the sun through the lens for several minutes.

An hour later the lens had melted, and the entire telescope stood warped and sagging in the heat.

The technician called Carpathia that evening to report that the recording disc had also melted.

"That is all right. I saw what I wanted to see."

"Sir?"

"That was a very nice piece of equipment. It provided me a crystal clear image of the noonday sun, and indeed, I could see the flares dancing from the surface." The techie laughed. "You find that humorous?" Carpathia said.

"Well, you're joking, of course." "I am not." "Sir, forgive me, but your eyeball would be gone. In fact, your brain would have been fried." "Do you realize to whom you are speaking?" Chang was chilled at his tone. "Yes, sir, Potentate," the techie said, his voice shaky. "The sun, moon, and stars bow to me." "Yes, sir. "

"Understand ? " "Yes, sir." "Do you doubt my account?" "No, sir.

Forgive me." Seventeen Weeks Later

Chang was idly monitoring various levels and temperature records at his desk one evening when he realized that the third Bowl Judgment had been lifted. He called Figueroa. "You'll want to see this," he said. Aurelio hurried from his office and stood behind Chang. "Look at this reading." cc 'Boiling water overflowing the Chicago River,"' his boss read quietly. " 'overheated and radiation contaminated.' Nothing new, is it?" "You missed it, Chief."

"Tell me."

"It doesn't say blood. It says water."

Figueroa was trembling as he used Chang's phone to call Akbar.

"Guess what I just discovered?" he said. "The waterways will now heal themselves over time," Chang heard Suhail Akbar tell Carpathia the next day.

Maybe, Chang thought, i f there were decades left.

It seemed to Chang that Carpathia was less concerned about water and heat because neither plague had affected him personally. What occupied most of his time was the failure, particularly in Israel, of his master plan for taking care of the Jewish "problem." In many other countries, the persecutions had had relative success. But of the , evangelists, those a.s.signed to the Holy Land had had tremendous success seeing the undecided become believers. And then, for some reason, they had been able to evade detection. Just when Carpathia and Akbar thought they had devised a sweep to rid the area of Messianic Jews, the sun plague had hit and the GC were incapacitated.

Now, though Carpathia rarely saw Suhail Akbar faceto face during the day, they were constantly in touch. Chang was amazed at how much firepower was still available to Global Community forces after all they had lost and had wasted in many skirmishes with the protected Judah ites. The United African States threatened secession because of what Carpathia had done to their ruling elite, while a rebel group there was secretly scheming with the palace about taking over for the disenfranchised government.

"Suhail," Chang recorded one day from Carpathia's phone, "these plagues have always had their seasons. This one has to end sometime. And when it does, that may be the time for us to pull out the half of our munitions and equipment that we have in reserve. Would you estimate that the confidentiality level on that stockpile remains secure?"

"To the best of my knowledge, Excellency."

"When the sun curse lifts, Director, when you can stand being out in the light of day again, let us be ready to mount the most ma.s.sive offensive in the history of mankind. I have not yet conceded even Petra, but I want the Jews wherever they are. I want them from Israel, particularly Jerusalem. And I will not be distracted or dissuaded by our whining friends in northern Africa. Suhail, if you have ever wanted to please me, ever wanted to impress me, ever wanted to make yourself indispensable to me, give yourself to this task. The planning, the strategy, the use of resources should make every other war strategist in history hang his head in shame. I want you to knock me out, Suhail, and I am telling you that resources monetary and military are limitless."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

"Did you get that, Suhail? Lim it less." Six Years into the Tribulation

Chang arose at dawn, as usual, but he realized immediately that things had changed. He had not been vulnerable to the damage of the sun, but he had been aware of the difference in temperature and humidity. This morning, the air felt different.

He hurried to his computer and checked the weather. Uh oh. Show's over. The temperature in New Babylon was normal.

Chang ate, showered, dressed, and hurried out. The palace was abuzz. Windows were open. People streamed in and out. He even saw smiles, though most of the depleted employee population was overworked, undernourished, and looked pale and sickly.

The bra.s.s announced that the noonday meal would be served picnic style, outside. Little was accomplished that morning as everyone antic.i.p.ated lunchtime. Then the mood was festive and the food plentiful. Many got a peek at Carpathia, striding purposefully about as if he had a new lease on life.

Chang hurried back to his quarters after work that day, eager to check on the rest of the world. The Tribulation Force had trimmed its sails and pulled in its cannons. They were back in hiding, picking their spots, strategizing for returning to an after dark schedule.

Carpathia remained tireless and expected the same of others. He held another high level meeting with the bra.s.s that had spent much of the day moving back to his floor. Even Viv Ivins was invited, and from what Chang could hear, all had been forgiven.

"For the first time in a long time," Nicolae said, "we play on an even field. The waterways are healing themselves, and we have rebuilding to do in the infrastructure. Let us work at getting all our loyal citizens back onto the same page with us. Director Akbar and I have some special surprises in store for dissidents on various levels. We are back in business, people. It is time to recoup our losses and start delivering a few."

The new mood lasted three days. Then the lights went out.

Literally. Everything went dark. Not just the sun, but the moon also, the stars, streetlamps, electric lights, car lights.

Anything anywhere that ever emitted light was now dark. No keypads on telephones, no flashlights, nothing iridescent, nothing glow in the dark. Emergency lights, exit signs, fire signs, alarm signs everything. Pitch black.

The cliche of not being able to see one's hand in front of one's face? Now true. It mattered not what time of day it was; people could see nothing. Not their clocks, watches, not even fire, matches, gas grills, electric grills. It was as if the light had done worse than go out; any vestige of it had been sucked from the universe. People screamed in terror, finding this the worst nightmare of their lives-- and they had many to choose from. They were blind completely, utterly, totally, wholly unable to see anything but blackness twenty four hours a day.

They felt their way around the palace; they pushed their way outdoors. They tried every light and every switch they could remember. They called out to each other to see if it was just them, or if everyone had the same problem. Find a candle! Rub two sticks together! Shuffle on the carpet and create static electricity. Do anything. Anything! Something to allow some vestige of a shadow, a hint, a sliver.

All to no avail.

Chang wanted to laugh. He wanted to howl from his gut. He wished he could tell everyone everywhere that once again G.o.d had meted out a curse, a judgment upon the earth that affected only those who bore the mark of the beast. Chang could see. It was different. He didn't see lights either. He simply saw everything in sepia tone, as if someone had turned down the wattage on a chandelier.

He saw whatever he needed to, including his computer and screen and watch and quarters. His food, his sink, his stove everything.

Best of all, he could tiptoe around the palace in his rubber soled shoes, weaving between his coworkers as they felt their way along.

Within hours, though, something even stranger happened. People were not starving or dying of thirst. They were able to feel their way to food and drink. But they could not work. There was nothing to discuss, nothing to talk about but the cursed darkness. And for some reason, they also began to feel pain.

They itched and so they scratched. They ached and so they rubbed.

They cried out and scratched and rubbed some more. For many the pain grew so intense that all they could do was bend down and feel the ground to make sure there was no hole or stairwell to fall into and then collapse in a heap, writhing, scratching, seeking relief.

The longer it went, the worse it got, and now people swore and cursed G.o.d and chewed their tongues. They crawled about the corridors, looking for weapons, pleading with friends or even strangers to kill them. Many killed themselves. The entire complex became an asylum of screams and moans and guttural wails, as these people became convinced that this, finally, was it the end of the world.

But no such luck. Unless they had the wherewithal, the guts, to do themselves in, they merely suffered. Worse by the hour.

Increasingly bad by the day. This went on and on and on. And in the middle of it, Chang came up with the most brilliant idea of his life.

If ever there was a perfect time for him to escape, it was now.

He would contact Rayford or Mac, anyone willing and able and available to come and get him. It had to be that the rest of the Tribulation Force in fact, all of the sealed and marked believers in the world had the same benefit he did.

Someone would be able to fly a jet and land it right there in New Babylon, and GC personnel would have to run for cover, having no idea who could do such a thing in the utter darkness. As long as no one spoke, they could not be identified. The Force could commandeer planes and weapons, whatever they wanted.

If anyone accosted them or challenged them, what better advantage could the Trib Force have than that they could see? They would have the drop on everyone and everybody. With but a year to go until the Glorious Appearing, Chang thought, the good guys finally had even a better deal than they had when the daylight hours belonged solely to them.