Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins
IT WAS ALMOST SEVEN.
Grace and her companions walked out to their car with Paul, who had offered to pick up dinner for the Sapiens group. The mood in the basement room was so buoyant that none wanted to leave, and there was a lot to discuss.
“Grace, your words were a tremendous inspiration,” Paul said. “I know you were nervous about helping us, so thank you.”
“My commitment is real, but my courage is lukewarm,” she said. “When Lois told me what you wanted, it sounded much more dangerous than our Stone Canyon meetings. I still feel pretty new in the faith.”
“I’m new myself,” Paul said. “I was blind—literally—and God restored my sight before I made the leap. Even then it took me a while.”
“It helped that they—” she gestured toward her friends—“were willing to come. They tell me to keep praying.”
After seeing the group off, Paul called Straight to fill him in. He applauded the plan and promised to marshal prayer troops. Then Paul called Tiny’s to tell them not to expect him for dinner. He heard music in the background—inevitably there’d be guests on a Friday night—and Ranold took command of the phone.
“What were you thinking, transferring a criminal from a secure location to a dicey one?”
“He was my prisoner, Ranold. I saw no reason to leave him in army custody. I’ll finish interrogating him in the morning.”
“No, you won’t. He almost escaped.”
Almost?
“So, they caught him, is that what you’re telling me?”
“That’s right, and they made him pay. Appropriately.”
“They already beat him half to death, Dad. What more do you expect to get out of him? I’ll go talk to him.”
“You don’t get it, do you, Paul? He’s not going to be there to talk to. Get yourself back here so I won’t have to suspect you of everything that gets in our way.”
“Suspect me?”
“I told you to check your ego at the door. Balaam was not happy that you took it upon yourself to move her prisoner. She saw it as a direct challenge to her authority. I explained you were a hothead, maybe feeling a little left out—”
“Ranold, what did they do to the guy?”
“Not torture, if that’s what you’re implying. We’re too busy to waste time sweating a leafleteer. That was your job. This afternoon we got a tip that the terrorists are planning something big. So we took the press opportunity your man offered, and that’s that.”
“What does that mean?”
“I said leave it alone, Paul. The last thing you want is more trouble over this. Now are you heading back here?”
Paul gritted his teeth.
“You there, Paul?”
“I’m losing you,” Paul said. And he disconnected.
Paul flipped on the radio and found an all-news station, but it was in the middle of a sports report. Finally came the news he dreaded.
“Late this afternoon, a car believed to be carrying subversive Christian rebel leader Barton James pitched off a cliff on Peace Canyon Road and burst into flames. James had reportedly escaped incarceration at the downtown headquarters of the Sunterra NPO. He was being held on charges of drug and weapons possession and assault on army personnel. Authorities are trying to extinguish the fire on the cliff and have brought in dogs to recover the body. . . .”
Peace Canyon Road. Paul had noticed it on the map when he was driving around to get oriented. There was nothing on those bluffs but dense foliage and coyotes and the few houses still standing after the earthquake. No reason for any official vehicle to choose that route.
Though Paul could hardly imagine eating, he picked up a selection of fast-food staples for the group and headed back to deliver the news about Barton. Carl and Lois looked especially devastated, but everyone was shocked. “It may be utterly the worst time for this,” Paul said, “but maybe the best way to mourn Barton is to keep planning.”
Paul told about his friend Straight spreading the word among underground believers all over the country. “Every believer will be focused on praying for you here. I’m new at this, and even though I believe God spoke to me, my faith will be tested. In spite of all God has miraculously done for me, sometimes I still doubt.”
“That’s not uncommon,” Carl said. “Remember, Jesus said, ‘Anything is possible if a person believes.’ And a man asking His help said, ‘I do believe, but help me not to doubt!’ ”
It seemed to Paul as he spoke that the grieving little band was growing emboldened. Eyes moist and shining, they were clearly ready to believe God would work—to count on Him to answer their prayers.
“I had started working on something while Paul was gone,” Carl said, “and now I’m going to print it out. Then let’s polish this thing till it shines and thank God for all He’s about to do.”
A clanging on the door upstairs made everyone jump. Carl pointed to a young woman. “Rhoda, please see who it is. And be careful.”
The rest prayed, some on their knees, others stretched out on the floor. A minute later fast footsteps descended the stairs. “Excuse me,” Rhoda said, pale and trembling. “It’s—it’s Barton!”
“What?”
“Who?”
“Let him in!”
“Where is he?”
“He’s alive?”
“I’m going up!”
“Me too!”
Half a dozen people rumbled up the stairs. They soon returned with a limping, disheveled, exhausted-looking Barton James. Duct tape stuck to his shirt and pants.
“Is it really you?”
“What happened?”
Paul waited behind Carl for his turn to embrace Barton. “Did you really try to escape, or was that—”
“That what they told you? We never even got downtown. We went the other direction, and I knew something was up.”
“They said you went off a cliff in Peace Canyon.”
“I did,” Barton said, collapsing onto a worn couch. “They unshackled me and put me in an old car. They wound tape around me like a mummy to hold me in the passenger seat, then put cans of gasoline on the floor in the back. They opened them and stopped them up with rags. The old car was all the way across the road from the guardrail. They revved up the motor and lit the rags just before they threw the car into gear. I was praying it wouldn’t hurt bad and that I would be in heaven before I burned too much.
“The car hit the rail at top speed, but I hardly moved because I was taped so tight to the seat. Then the car was airborne, tumbling end over end, and I was choking with the smoke from the gas. When it hit the ground, someone popped my door open, ripped off the tape, and yanked me out. We rolled and rolled together and finally hid in the bushes as the car exploded and cartwheeled down into the canyon.
“The guy told me the tape had saved me, but I would have roasted alive if he hadn’t pulled me out. I lay there half-conscious in the bushes for a while. He disappeared, but I had a good view of what was left of the car. It lay there burning, a deep orange with black smoke. I knew I had to get out of there before they came looking for my body.
“I hiked back up to the main road and kept going till I reached the monorail. I didn’t dare let anyone see me, so I just followed the tracks as far as I could, then stayed in the shadows and took the back way when I got down here.”
“You didn’t!”
“A miracle.”
“That had to be an angel.”
Lois asked for attention and led the group in singing.
Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love:
The fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.
Carl led in a prayer of thanks. He told Barton, “We’ve been planning a counterattack.”
“Tell me!”
Carl summarized what Paul had outlined, and Barton painfully sat up and leaned forward. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Let’s trust God to work.”
Carl handed him a copy of what he had written. “I was just about to read this.”
Paul read Carl’s daring manifesto over Barton’s shoulder. It boldly stated that the Christian men and women of greater Los Angeles were praying that God would dry up the water supply to the city to stop the brutal persecution of believers.
We know that the fervent prayer of the righteous avails much,
and if the killing of the innocents does not immediately cease,
we’re trusting God to answer this prayer and send this judgment
on our tormentors.
If the army does not immediately withdraw and leave us to
worship in peace, we believe this will come to pass. When it
happens—and it will happen—you will know God has acted.
To prevent it, we call on all affected citizens to rise up and
force the powers that be to change their cruel and unjust laws
against people of faith.
We wish to live out our beliefs in public with respect and
love to and from all. Here we stand.
When the drought comes, remember that Jesus said, “If
you are thirsty, come to Me! If you believe in Me, come and
drink! For the Scriptures declare that rivers of living water
will flow out from within.”
“This is great,” Barton said. “I wouldn’t change a word. Get this onto the Internet to all the groups we know and urge them to pass it on to everyone they can. We’ll be laughed at and ridiculed, but God will act; then the laughing—and the killing—will stop.”
He and a few others raced to the computers to start posting the manifesto. Paul was eager to get going, knowing that Ranold was probably waiting, annoyed. “They’ll be done, and we’ll all leave in a few minutes,” Carl said. “But we have a little something for you, friend. You’ve been risking your life for us, and we want you to have this token of our appreciation.”
He presented Paul with a penny, which Paul folded tightly in his palm. He was unable to speak. Carl stepped to him and put a hand on his head. “Jude 1:24-25 says, ‘And now, all glory to God, who is able to keep you from stumbling, and who will bring you into His glorious presence innocent of sin and with great joy. All glory to Him, who alone is God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Yes, glory, majesty, power, and authority belong to Him, in the beginning, now, and forevermore. Amen.’”
Paul mouthed a thank-you and ventured back out into the night.
He drove back toward Beverly Hills thanking God for sparing Barton. “And thank You too for giving me the idea of how You can show Yourself to the people of Sunterra. As I believe, with all my heart, You will.”
Paul was within half a mile of the Allendo mansion when he heard a tone and answered.
“Paul?” It was Jae, and she sounded different.
“Yes! Hi!”
“Did I wake you?”
“No. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Paul. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“You did?”
“And now I want to see you.”
“I don’t know when I’ll be home, Jae,” Paul said, “but I hope you and the kids will be there.”
“I want to see you tonight, Paul.”
“Jae, I would love that. I’ve missed you. But I’m still in L.A. and I am working—”
“I’m at LAX, Paul.”
“Are you serious?”
“Come get me at Helios Air.”