Chang had patched the enemy’s radio transmissions to Mac and Rayford and wore an earphone himself so he could stay posted. He sat back and sighed, then stood quickly. It was time to find Naomi and get outside where they belonged.
“Taking the rest of the day off?” she said, taking his hand when Chang found her.
“The rest of my life,” he said.
Mac kept an eye on Sebastian’s vehicle and the hundreds of remnant rebels following him into Petra. “Looks like they’re all safe, Ray,” he reported. “Ever’body’s home and accounted for but you and me.”
“Wish I could be with Kenny right now,” Rayford said. “Priss says he was asking for his dad earlier, and all she could think to tell him was that they’d see him tomorrow.”
“Good thinkin’. Hey, Ray, ol’ Nick’s leaving nothing to chance.”
“How so?”
“He’s got the rest of the troops fanning out to surround the city.”
“I didn’t hear that order, Mac.”
“Musta been something he decided on before we could hear him.”
“The mounted troops must just be in the way. Not to mention all the meteor craters.”
“Some of the trails on this side are navigable. Remember they used to have donkeys bring tourists in.”
“Rally the planes,” Rayford heard. Carpathia’s voice.
“What’s he doing, Mac?”
“I’ll watch, but it looks like he’s bringing everything he’s got in this region.”
“A third of the total, just like the Bible says.”
“He can’t get out from under the prophecies, can he, Ray?”
As Rayford surged up toward Petra in the evil procession, he heard jets screaming. “Fighter-bombers?”
“Nah,” Mac said. “Fighters but not bombers. Guess they know better than that. He’ll have to learn the hard way that the guns don’t work here either.”
When Carpathia’s Humvee reached the last particularly steep stretch, it was nearly pointed to the sky. “Find me a place,” he told the driver, “where I can stand on the roof and see all my troops on this side and can also see the enemy.”
“I believe we’re almost there, Excellency.”
Rayford left the formation and shot right about twenty yards to where he had a good view. He shut down his engine and swung his left leg over the seat, using the ATV as a bench. “Attack, you coward,” he whispered, hoping that would bring Jesus from heaven. Yeah, I know. He’ll be here in His own time.
“How’s this, Your Highness?”
Rayford heard the squeak of Carpathia’s leathers as he moved to look this way and that. “Perfect.”
His door opened and simultaneously generals opened their doors and piled out the back. One held Carpathia’s door and offered his hand so the potentate could mount the hood. But Nicolae ignored him. He leaped onto the front of the truck and stepped atop the roof. The vehicle was at such an angle that he began sliding. He caught himself, loudly drew his sword, and raised it above his head. “Lights!”
A beacon pulled by a Jeep lit him with a harsh, garish beam that cast a one-hundred-foot shadow on the rocks behind him.
“Loyal soldiers of the Global Community Unity Army, observe your commander in chief!”
The singing inside Petra ceased and the people peered down at him.
“You are privileged to be part of the greatest fighting force ever assembled on the face of the earth! You will be lauded for time immemorial for the victory we are about to win. The plan is foolproof, our resources unlimited, your leader divine. Once we have crushed the resistance here, you will occupy the city and enjoy the spoils while I proceed to Jerusalem to lay siege to it.
“And if there really is a God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and if He truly has a Son worthy of facing me in combat, I shall destroy Him too! When I have been informed that all elements are in place and at the ready, be prepared to advance upon Petra on my command. Leave no man, woman, or child alive. The victory is mine, says your living lord and risen king!”
From out of the back of Carpathia’s vehicle stumbled Leon Fortunato, still in his ridiculous regalia. He failed in his first attempt to climb the hood, then finally hiked his skirts and clambered aboard. Stepping onto the windshield to mount the hood, he stepped on the hem of his robe and had to back down and take another run at it.
When he was finally sharing the roof with Carpathia, Leon reached under his robe and produced a small decanter and began sloshing it about. “Praise to the resurrected lord,” he chanted, and then began to sing, “Hail Carpathia, our lord and risen king.”
“Leon, what are you doing?” Carpathia demanded.
“Leading the assembled in worship, Highness.”
“This is a battle, man! And lose the holy water!”
Leon bowed and apologized and loudly stepped down to the hood, then slid off the side onto the ground. “Oh yes!” he said. “Almost forgot. I was to tell you that everyone is in place and at the ready.”
“Get in the car, Leon.”
“By your grace, Excellency.”
As soon as Leon’s door was shut, Carpathia stomped twice on the roof. Nothing happened. He stomped twice again. Still nothing. “Go!” he shouted. “Go!”
“You want me to drive with you on the roof, Potentate?” the driver said. “I thought I was supposed to stay—”
“Go! Now!”
The vehicle’s engine raced, and when it began virtually climbing the wall, it was all Carpathia could do to keep his balance. “Attack!” he screamed. “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
Rayford watched Carpathia’s vehicle bounce up and over while planes let fly their bullets. As far as Rayford could see, the Unity Army surged while the remnant peering over the wall stood in silence, holding hands.
The siege was deafening. Jet engines, Jeeps, cars, trucks, Hummers, transports, armaments, munitions, rifle fire, machine-gun fire, cannons, grenades, rockets—you name it. But when the panoramic cross disappeared from the sky, the world went black again. It reminded Rayford of what he had heard about the darkness that had descended upon New Babylon. The only sound was the clicking of weapons that would not fire. Nothing produced light. No headlights. No matches or lighters.
“Light!” Carpathia screeched. But everything was dark. “Fire!” he raged. Still nothing. “Take the infidels by hand!”
But the soldiers could see nothing and would not know whether their victim was friend or foe. The clicking tapered and then quit. All Rayford heard were frustrated shouts and the nickering of thousands of horses waiting below.
And then, as if God had thrown the switch in heaven, light.
But that wasn’t enough of a word for it. This was not light from above that cast shadows. This was a brightness that invaded every crevice and cranny. Rayford had to shield his eyes, but it did no good, as the light came from everywhere.
It exposed a Unity Army in chaos. On the plains, horses bucked and reared, whinnying and throwing riders. On the hillsides leading to Petra, soldiers examined weapons that did not work. On the border of the city, Carpathia stood exposed atop his personnel carrier, sword at his side, stared at by saints standing side by side.
“You can see them now! Charge! Attack! Kill them!”
But as his petrified, lethargic soldiers slowly turned back to the matter at hand, the brilliant multicolored cloud cover parted and rolled back like a scroll from horizon to horizon. Rayford found himself on his knees on the ground, hands and head lifted.
Heaven opened and there, on a white horse, sat Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the living God.
Rayford could not explain how he could see his Savior so clearly. It was as if He appeared within inches of Rayford, and he knew that had to be the experience of everyone everywhere.
Jesus’ eyes shone with a conviction like a flame of fire, and He held His majestic head high. He wore a robe down to the feet so brilliantly white it was incandescent and bore writing, something in a language wholly unfamiliar
to Rayford and something else he easily understood. On His robe at the thigh a name was written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. Jesus was girded about the chest with a golden band. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow. His feet were like fine brass, as if refined in a furnace.
Jesus had in His right hand seven stars, and His countenance was like the sun shining in its strength.
The armies of heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, followed Him on white horses.
An angel appeared in the light and cried with a loud voice, saying to all the birds in the midst of heaven, “Come and gather together for the supper of the great God, that you may eat the flesh of kings, the flesh of captains, the flesh of mighty men, the flesh of horses and of those who sit on them, and the flesh of all people, free and slave, both small and great.”
“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” Jesus said, “the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End, the Almighty.”
When Rayford first heard the voice of Jesus, he understood what John meant in Revelation when he compared it to both a trumpet and the sound of many waters. It pierced him, reaching to his heart. It was as if he was not hearing with his ears but rather that the voice came alive within him and communicated with his very soul. Rayford was certain every believer on earth heard Jesus in the same way, deep within his or her own being.
This was the One who is and who was and who had finally come, “the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler over the kings of the earth. This was Him who loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has made us kings and priests to His God and Father, to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever.”
And with those very first words, tens of thousands of Unity Army soldiers fell dead, simply dropping where they stood, their bodies ripped open, blood pooling in great masses. “I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of Hades and of Death.”
With that Carpathia scrambled down from his perch and slid in the passenger-side window. “Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!” he shouted, but the driver must have been dead. “Leon, drive! Get this carcass out!” The driver’s door opened and a body flopped out. Soon the vehicle was bouncing down the hill toward the desert.
“I am the Son of Man, the Son of God, the Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of the creation of God. I am the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, the One who prevailed to open the scroll and to loose its seven seals.”
With every word, more and more enemies of God dropped dead, torn to pieces. Horses panicked and bolted. The living screamed in terror and ran about like madmen—some escaping for a time, others falling at the words of the Lord Christ.
“I am the Lamb that was slain and yet who lives. I am the Shepherd who leads His sheep to living fountains of waters. I am the God who will wipe away every tear from your eyes. I am your Salvation and Strength. I am the Christ who has come for the accuser of the brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, the one who has been cast down.”
For miles lay the carcasses of the Unity Army. The manic, crazed survivors ran and staggered and drove over and through them, fleeing for their lives.
“I am the Word of God. I am Jesus. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star.”
It was hard to kneel and look up, but somehow Enoch found a way. And all his parishioners did the same. He couldn’t articulate his feelings, even in the quietness of his own heart and mind. To see Jesus, clad in white, riding the white horse, and speaking with the authority of the ages, and knowing that He was slaying the enemy in the Holy Land at the same time . . . it was just too much to take in.
Enoch believed that Jesus was the lover of his soul, and seeing Him return on the clouds, knowing He was there to set up His thousand-year kingdom reign, completed Enoch somehow. The psalmist said that as a deer pants after water, so the soul pants after God. Enoch somehow knew that his panting was over. His Savior had come.
He was only vaguely aware that neighbors had burst from their homes in terror, screaming and calling to each other. The light blinded them and they ran to and fro, some jumping in cars and careening down the street. Enoch knew that the news the next day—if there would be news—would report hundreds of thousands of employees of the ruler of this world having mysteriously been slain at the time of the phenomenon in the sky.
And the ruler of this world was himself now running for his life.
The all-encompassing, pervasive light that preceded the opening of heaven had fully awakened Kenny Bruce, and Abdullah quickly turned him to face the sky. When Jesus appeared, Abdullah awkwardly knelt, careful not to drop the boy.
“Me too, Uncle Smitty,” Kenny said. And he too knelt, first intertwining his tiny fingers as if to pray, then reaching out to Jesus.
“My Lord and my God,” Abdullah said, and Kenny repeated him.
“Jesus!” Kenny cried, standing and waving. “Jesus!”
Rayford stood atop the seat of his ATV, his attention divided between the Lord on the clouds and the Unity Army breaking for cover across the sandy plains. But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. As the words of Jesus trumpeted throughout the earth, they could not be avoided. He could not be ignored.
Something about Jesus’ appearing struck Rayford so deeply that he was glad no one else was around. He would not have been able to utter a sound. There were no words for the thrill, the magnetism, the overwhelming perfection of the moment. Jesus was the culmination of his whole life, and not just since he had been regenerated. Rayford realized that Jesus was whom his soul had been seeking since he was old enough to think and reason. Jesus was the source and the point of all life.
Rayford knew that somewhere in that heavenly band of white-clad saints behind Jesus were his wife and son, and that his daughter, his second wife, and many friends and loved ones would soon be brought forth to join them. How sweet those reunions would be, and yet how the very thought of them paled next to his fulfilled devotion to Jesus.
As the Global Community minions threw miles-long clouds of dust as they scattered, Jesus continued to speak. And the enemies of God continued to die.
“I am able to save to the uttermost those who come to the Father through Me! I live to make intercession for them. I come from above and am above all. My Father has delivered all things to Me. He put all things under My feet and gave Me to be head over all things. I am the anchor of your soul, sure and steadfast. I am the Lord’s Christ.”
As Rayford slowly made his way down to the desert plains, though he had to concentrate on missing craters and keeping from hitting splayed and filleted bodies of men and women and horses, Jesus still appeared before his eyes—shining, magnificent, powerful, victorious.
And that sword from His mouth, the powerful Word of God itself, continued to slice through the air, reaping the wrath of God’s final judgment. The enemy had been given chance after chance, judgment after judgment to convince and persuade them. To this very minute, God had offered forgiveness, reconciliation, redemption, salvation. But except for that now-tiny remnant of Israel that was seeing for the first time the One they had pierced, it was too late.
“I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is cast out as a branch and is withered; and they gather them and throw them into the fire, and they are burned.
“I am the Apostle and High Priest of your confession, God manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen by angels, preached among the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up in glory.
“I am the Son whom God has appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the worlds; who being the brightness of His glory and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when I had by Myself purged your sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become so much better than the angels, as I
have by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they.”
Rayford saw soldiers kill themselves at the sight of their slain comrades. Others looked like cartoon characters on speed, using any implement they could find to dig holes and bury themselves, trying to hide from the piercing light and convicting words of Christ.
Carpathia was radioing ahead to generals and commanders in the middle of his army that still extended miles from Petra to the north. “Reinforcements! Reinforcements! Spare no expense or equipment! Meet us at Buseirah!”
The royal Humvee, with the ubiquitous Leon at the wheel, far outraced Rayford’s ATV until it ran into the rest of the army trying to flee on horseback and on foot. About half the original caravan trailed the Humvee, minus the munitions carriers that remained inoperative just outside Petra.
Rayford raced up behind the fleeing potentate and his panicked entourage, and turned to see what was happening with the rest of the Unity Army that had been encircling Petra. All he could see for miles were craters; overturned vehicles; clouds of dust; dead and dying soldiers and horses; personnel walking in a daze, running, staggering. And above them great clouds of ravenous birds, getting their fill of man and beast. Strangely, though, the swarming flocks that would have otherwise blocked out the sun cast no shadow on the ground. The light of Christ permeated everything.
“How we doing up there, Mac?”
“Oh, Ray! I can hear every word, and it’s like God’s in the cockpit with me, looking right into my eyes.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Listen, I’m going to head to Buseirah, ’cause that’s where what’s left of the front lines here seem to be headed. From up here it looks like the worst of the damage and casualties is within five miles of Petra. The rest of the one-third is steering toward Buseirah, and farther north the other two-thirds is pretty much intact and trying to regroup.”
One of the women told Enoch, without taking her gaze from the sky, that it seemed “as if Jesus is lookin’ right at me.”
“Me too,” another said, and another.