The Fanatics
The Fanatics
By
Nishoni Lynn Harvey
Copyright 2013 by Nishoni Harvey
All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
©2012 Nishoni Lynn Harvey
Cover art by George Nuhrah
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Meet the Author
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my pastor, Eric T. Pittman, who held a Prophecy Conference at Hope Baptist Church. During this conference, Dr. Tom Sooter took a portion of time to expound on the probable future of Christianity in America. This conference sparked the idea for this book, which I hope you find as enjoyable to read as I found it to write.
Chapter 1
“Breaking news,” blared the radio reporter excitedly. “Just in: The 2018 Hate Crimes Bill has just been amended again. It is now illegal and punishable by death to believe and press those beliefs on anyone else, including your children, that there is only one true Bible, that there is an afterlife or only one way to reach it, that there is only one true and right religion, that there is only one God, or that any certain thing allowable by law is a ‘sin’. The authorities in our government have termed these people as menaces to society and dangerous to our children’s delicate psyches. They have also stated that these people are murderers, causing nearly every suicide there has been in this country, due to their imposing false guilt upon the children of America. This Bill was followed up by an announcement just minutes ago that anyone reporting the whereabouts of these, what the government is terming, ‘Fanatics’ to the law will be handsomely rewarded. The number to call if you wish to report a ‘Fanatic’ is 1-555-2Report; that’s 1-555-273-7678.”
Lydia coiled at the announcement like she had just been belted across her delicate chin. What would they ever do? She gazed at her three small children as the panic began to rise within her chest. They had to teach them about Jesus, there was no way around it. Her children would not go to Hell because of a law. No, she would not, could not, allow that, but… surely God did not expect them to give their lives to tell other people about the Gospel… and only God knows what would happen to the children if they were caught!
Lydia glanced toward her husband, realizing that he had been thoughtfully studying her worried countenance. She would not even have to tell him what had been running through her head. He was very observant. He would know exactly what she had been thinking.
She loved staring into Clyde’s emerald green eyes. She always found the confidence there that she lacked. How could he always have such solid faith in every circumstance? Even with the dreadful announcement they had just heard, he still had a peace about him that was beyond her comprehension. The faith her man held in the Heavenly Father was absolutely remarkable! That is the thing she had always loved most about him… his wonderful, unshakable faith in God. Oh how she wished she could have just a little bit of the faith he had, but it seems there is always a worrier in every family, and in this family, she was the prime candidate.
She looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. “We’re not going to stop telling others about Jesus… are we?” she asked, already knowing his answer.
“No,” he answered slowly, shaking his head. She loved the way his red hair captured the light. He often told her that her long, curly, black hair captured the light as well, sometimes making it appear blue.
“No,” he said again. “How can we stop obeying God? Christ gave His life for us. How can we do any less for Him?” He paused briefly to ponder his words, as was his custom. He rubbed his chin with a work calloused hand in a nervous gesture, as if he were trying to rub off some of his many freckles. “If it is God’s will to keep us safe from harm, then He will, but if He wills that we be martyrs for Him, we must count it a privilege and honor to have served Him as He sees fit.” He looked deep into Lydia’s blue eyes. “I love you, Lydia.”
“I love you too, Clyde. I just pray that I can be as strong as you if and when that time comes.”
“I have faith in you, Dear. Have faith in yourself… More importantly, have faith in God.”
“Sometimes, Clyde, you are remarkable. I don’t know how you do it. I’ll try. God will have to do the rest. Oftentimes, faith is a big word that is much easier said than done.”
“I know, Dear. I know.” They united in a long, endearing embrace.
Clyde knew he had to be strong for his wife, but deep inside he was uncertain as well. He too hoped God would help him be strong if the worst was to happen. Growing up in a home where his parents drank and cussed incessantly, he had no knowledge of Christ or His sacrifice on Calvary until he was twenty-three years old. A small group of men had come to the jail, where he was being held for violating yet another law, to preach to the inmates. When he decided to sit in on a service just for something to do, he had no idea the effect it would have in his life. He had never heard of this man called Jesus. He could not comprehend a selfless love, for all he had known was hate, but Jesus accepted him just as he was when he saw himself as a worthless sinner and begged God’s forgiveness so he could be free from a devil’s Hell. From that day forward, he was a changed man. He was hungry for anything about God that he could get his hands on. He grew very quickly in the things of God and never stopped growing. That was fifteen years ago, and he was still going strong on the unshakable foundation of Jesus Christ. What a great God he serves!
* * *
Clyde shot straight up in bed. Yes, there it was again, an unmistakable pounding at the door. Who could that be… and at this time of night? He peered again at the clock to be sure he had read it right the first time. Yes, 3:30 am. He crawled groggily out of bed. “Just a minute, I’m coming,” he yelled, throwing caution to the wind. If the pounding on the door had not awakened the children, then they would sleep through anything! As he opened the door, Lydia peeked around the corner.
“Who is it, Honey,” she asked wearily. Clyde did not reply, nor did he have to, for an armored S.W.A.T. team followed by uniformed police officers were forcing their way into the living room. Clyde tried to run toward the back of the house to protect his wife and children, but was stopped by a bullet in his back. Lydia jumped back and rushed towards the children’s room. She had to get to her precious children; they must be terrified! She did not get far, however, before she was wrestled to the floor and handcuffed.
Grace, the oldest of the three children, had the other two huddled with her in a dark corner. They had all heard the pounding on the door and were immediately awakened. They were all making their way toward their bedroom door to satisfy their curiosity when they heard the outside door bang open, and lots of people, including their daddy, shouting. By the time the gun was fired, they were all already hiding. Grace tried to keep her sister and brother quiet so they would not be found, but they were both crying uncontrollably, after all, they were only two and a half and four years old.
“I’ll be back,” she said, rubbing their heads.
“No,” they cried. “Don’t leave us!”
“I have to. I have to get help,” she whispered. “Just stay here and be quiet and you’ll be okay. I’ll be back, I promise.” She quietly slipped away from their death grips and crawled out the bedroom window. She did not even look back as she sprinted into the woods. She did not know where she was going. She had no idea. All she
knew was that she had to find help… fast. God would lead her to the right person. God would take care of everything. He had to. After all, He loved her, didn’t He? Tears began to spill down Grace’s face. She did not want to cry, she had to have a clear head, had to see where she was going, but she could not stop. The further she ran, the harder she cried. Did God love her? How could He love her and her family and still allow them to suffer? Then she remembered a verse Daddy had drilled into all their heads over and over again, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.” No, it was not God’s fault. Yes, He allowed it, but He had a purpose. It would be okay; yet, she could not stop crying.
Chapter 2
21 years later
The large crowd stirred restlessly. Things were not going very well. They had spent countless hours battling the “Fanatics”, and to no avail. The small group seemed to grow despite the opposition. It was almost like the opposition they were providing to this sect was making them grow, like it was fertilizing their movement! …But how could that be so? Something more had to be done… and soon! This could not go on any longer.
It was Bob Parker’s turn to speak. He approached the podium with confidence and ease, his large body swaying back and forth as he walked in his usual nonchalant pace. His manner seemed to help everyone else relax a little bit. “The Fanatics are growing more and more violent,” Bob said. “Be weary of your surroundings. Do not allow yourself to be caught alone. They are everywhere… waiting for a chance to strike.” Bob Parker paused, sensing the temperature of the crowd. “In fact, one our own men, Jonathon Zoner, was attacked by a group of them last night while on patrol duty.” A gasp swept across the crowd. Bob Parker held up his hand in comfort. “Not to worry,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Jonathon is just fine. In fact, he is here tonight to tell us exactly what happened.”
Jonathon Zoner approached the podium quietly. It was evident to most in the crowd that he was nervous, but who wouldn’t be? His long, lanky legs allowed him to take long strides to the platform. His bushy black hair bounced on top of his head with every step. He soon reached his destination behind the wooden podium. It completely shielded his skinny body from view where Bob Parker’s had protruded in many directions just seconds before. Jonathon, or Jon, as many affectionately called him, gripped the top of the podium with such fervency that his knuckles began to turn white. He stared nervously at his hands. “Lord, please help me,” he prayed silently to himself. Then he looked boldly at the crowd and began to tell his story.
“Last night, around 11:30 pm, I rounded a corner on my patrol shift to find an older man, probably in his sixties, accompanied by a beautiful young lady around twenty-six or twenty-seven years old.” A snicker passed through the crowd as they saw Jon blush at his admission of attraction to this unknown woman. “At first, I was startled, as they came up on me so suddenly, but I believe they were just as surprised to meet someone around the corner as I was.” Jon paused to contemplate his next words.
“Is that when they attacked you?” Someone asked too loudly. A murmur swept over the crowd.
“I wasn’t attacked per se, just confronted. They asked me a very simple question. ‘If you were to die this very instant, where would you spend eternity?’”
“So they did threaten you, then!” Another person spoke out blatantly.
“No,” Jon said. “They did not threaten me. When they asked me the question, I could tell they really cared about my soul. They told me how Jesus died on the cross because we are all sinners and cannot get to Heaven on our own. Then they told me that all I have to do is believe that Jesus is God and that He died and arose from the dead, and I can go to Heaven. I was in no way attacked.” Jon smiled shyly as he finished. He turned to walk away from the platform.
Everyone sat in shocked silence. “He’s one of them,” someone whispered from somewhere in the middle of the crowd.
“He’s one of them!” someone else yelled out for all to hear. “Get him! Don’t let him leave! He’s a Fanatic too!” With that, everyone rushed toward Jon, but he escaped through the back door and across a field into the darkness. One of the uniformed police officers shot his firearm into the darkness, but it was too late. The fugitive had escaped.
“It’s too dark to find him tonight,” Bob Parker said, “especially with all these woods around. Let’s all go home and get a good night sleep. We’ll track him down in the morning. With any luck, he’ll think that we gave up, and his trail will lead us right to the others.” Everyone agreed to the plan, and then everyone except Bob separated toward their homes. He had to stay at the compound for a few moments longer to finish a few things up.
After walking back inside the building, he finally found himself alone. Now he could think about what he had to do next. This was no easy thing. Thoughts whirled around inside his mind like a tornado had been let loose in his brain. This assignment would not be as easy as just tracking down any other Fanatic. This would be different, but what else could he do? He had to detach himself from his feelings. Somehow he had to forget the impossible and focus on the job at hand. Yes, he was angry about the occurrence. Very angry, but Jon was… He couldn’t let anyone else know how he felt. He had to hide it… to masquerade… his re-election hinged on him being strong. If he faltered in this, he knew any chance of him being re-elected in two months was out the window. He had to figure this out, to focus.
“Why didn’t you do something?” The voice came from the front row of metal fold-up chairs in the room where the meeting had just taken place. He knew that voice. It was his granddaughter, Kellie.
“What are you talking about, Dear?” He asked.
“You know what I am talking about, Grandpa. Why didn’t you stop them from trying to hurt Jon? You are the Police Chief. You could have stopped them. Instead, you encouraged it. You encouraged a hunting party for tomorrow… for him to be hunted down, like a common… animal.”
“He’s one of them, Kellie. He’s a Fanatic. You know the law. It’s my job to uphold the law.”
“But he’s your grandson!” she yelled in frustration. “He’s my only brother! You could have stopped it!”
Bob tightened his jaw. “He’s no relation of mine. I refuse to be known as the grandfather of a defector. I am American—born and bred. And if you know what’s good for you, you will disown him too. He’s nothing but trouble now that he is one of them.”
Kellie defiantly stood to her full height of five foot 4½ inches. “He is my brother, the only person in my family I have left besides you,” she spat out. “I am not going to give up on him… not this easy.”
“Kellie, after you join them, there is no turning back! It’s a life of exile or imprisonment! You choose to be loyal either to your brother or your country. Jon is a fugitive now. Do what’s right!” Bob was trying to talk some sense into the beautiful blond haired, blue-eyed girl, but he knew that she was going to be stubborn, just like always.
“I am doing what is right,” she said defiantly, “with or without your help,” then she spun on her heel and marched away from her grandfather… probably forever.
Chapter 3
The long prayer meeting was about to draw to a close. The small group of Baptist believers had met—just like always—in the small church building on Pastor Jack Sander’s property. His home was out in the middle of nowhere, miles from civilization, and would be difficult for government officials to find. He had known from studying the prophecy in the Scriptures that hard times were coming for Christians, and he had dutifully bought two thousand acres of property under the false name of John Matthews and had secretly built a small community in the very center of the heavily wooded acreage with the help of a few carefully chosen individuals. They had wisely dug a deep well, bought farm animals such as chickens for their eggs, goats for the milk, horses, and beef cattle. They had also stock-piled food, guns, ammunition, clothing, garden tools, plenty of seeds for two year’s
worth of home-grown food that would reproduce with the replanting of dried seeds, and other essentials. This was to be a safe haven for those who loved God and sought for the much-needed protection from the laws of the land.
Pastor Sanders was slowly walking to the pulpit, his worn King James Bible in his hand, as was normal for him. His very presence demanded attention and awe from his parish. This had nothing to do with his height of six foot two or his broad muscular shoulders from years of working hard on “The Haven of Rest” as he affectionately named his property. Instead, this deep respect for the man of God stemmed from the fact that he was the very reason that many of his parishioners were still free to live out their lives in peace… at least for the time being.
“For most, it is a very scary world we live in. Our rights have been stripped from us one by one. First they took our right to pray or mention the name of God in the schools, then they stripped us of our right to bear arms, then it became a crime to preach against Sodomy and fornication as the good old King James demands of us,” Pastor Sanders waved his beloved Bible in the air to emphasize the point. “The Bible says we are not to shun to declare all the counsel of God in Acts 20:27. Then they tried to bar us from witnessing and telling others of Christ, labeling it harassment. Now, it is illegal to be a Christian at all. True, we have a safe haven to live in, a safe place for our children to be, but we must not stop obeying the Word of God. We must continue to tell others of Christ! God commanded us to go into all the world and preach the Gospel. His command does not become null and void just because the law says it’s illegal! Acts 5:29 says, ‘We ought to obey God rather than men.’ Do be careful. Pray about whom to approach. God will lead you to the right people. The most important thing any of us can do right now is to pray, and the right prayer is always, ‘Thy will be done’.”