The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (388 page)

Rayford noticed a lull in the activity and assumed it was because both Razor and Leah needed Abdullah’s help to load him aboard the big ATV. And Abdullah was fifteen feet or so down the rocky slope with his back to them, on the phone. When it appeared he was finished, he called someone else.

The energy bar, distasteful as it was, had its desired effect, and Rayford was ready to get going. He’d felt better in his day, but despite numerous ailments, he had a renewed sense of purpose and drive.
Let’s go; let’s go!
he thought, but he said nothing.

Presently Abdullah returned. “Many people worry about you, Captain,” he said. “Ree Woo for one, but especially Chaim himself. He wonders what your plans are.”

“My plans? To keep breathing. To survive the trip.”

“He is wondering if you would be up to his visit at your quarters when you arrive.”

“Of course,” Rayford said. “Know what he wants?”

“Again,” Leah said, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? You joke about surviving the trip, and frankly I am quite worried about that. You have no idea how you’ll feel when you arrive. You likely have a broken rib on top of everything else, maybe more than one. It’s nearly impossible to tell without an X-ray or MRI.”

“What’re you saying, Doc?”

“I’m just a nurse, but moving you the way we’re planning is just about the worst possible scenario for you right now.”

“Just about?”

“Staying here would be worse, but at least you’re stable.”

Mac gingerly climbed aboard the biggest, blackest, most powerful horse he had ever seen. It had been years, but he knew enough to plant his left foot firmly in the stirrup before swinging his right leg up and over. If anyone was looking, he might appear to have a clue.

Unfortunately, he was more concerned with mounting than he was with his dangling Uzi, and before he settled firmly in the saddle, the barrel of his weapon poked the horse in the back, just above the saddle horn at the base of the neck. The beast started and stepped about quickly, causing Mac to panic and stiffen. That made the horse rear. Mac pulled on the reins with all his weight, desperate to hang on and not be chucked off onto his head.

As the steed whinnied loudly and reared higher, spooking other horses and riders, Mac slid out of the saddle and the stirrups slackened. Mac pushed his legs straight as hard as he could, tucked his chin to his chest, and held the reins for all he was worth. That pulled the horse’s muzzle down and nearly made him topple backward. Mac was almost upside down, all his weight pulling against the horse, and he could imagine pulling the animal down atop him.

Somehow the horse balanced itself with a few well-placed steps with its back feet, then slammed down to all fours, thrusting Mac hard into the saddle and throwing him forward to where he was now hugging the horse around the neck. The animal still felt unsure beneath him, and Mac knew he had done the opposite of showing it who was in charge. If a message had been sent to the horse, it was that the rider was scared to death and hanging on for dear life.

Mac’s “superior” appeared not to have noticed. He cantered up and pointed to several soldiers, Mac included, directing them to position themselves off the flanks of Carpathia’s horse. Leave it to the potentate to have a monster creature that put the rest to shame. His horse was at least two hands taller and a hundred pounds heavier than the others. It had a spot of white between its eyes and four white feet. Its tail seemed to shoot straight up before the rest of it cascaded down in a smart flow. The mane was somehow longer and thicker as well. Mac had heard of the hound of heaven. This was the horse from hell.

It even seemed to have attitude. It snuffled loudly whenever another horse invaded its space, and it nipped and kicked to keep its place. Carpathia appeared to have been raised around horses, deftly controlling the thing with a light grip and decisive hands, knees, and feet. He rode ahead several feet and turned his horse to face the others.

“Let me remind you all,” he said, “that we are merely feet from an active battleground. The resistance currently holds the Temple Mount, aboveground, and they are capable of firing from atop the wall. Be vigilant. This is not a press junket or a sightseer’s safari. I am most disappointed to tell you that I have just been made aware of an insurgence within our own ranks from both the south in Egypt and below and from the northeast. Ironically, some who pledged their allegiance now call themselves ‘Revitalized Babylon’ and condescend to assert their independence. These uprisings shall be crushed posthaste. As we speak, portions of our more than extravagantly outfitted fighting force will peel off to these locations to lay waste to the pretenders. They will regret their insolence only as long as they have breath, and then they will be trampled and made an example of.

“Meanwhile, we will figuratively set out for Petra. I say figuratively, because I do not plan to waste the hours it would take to actually ride some sixty miles on horseback. The Global Community media will get what it needs as we strike out from here, leave the occupied Muslim Quarter, and head southwest through the Jewish and Armenian Quarters—both also having been easily taken by our forces—and leave the Old City through the Zion Gate. There you will transfer to ground vehicles capable of covering the distance at well over a hundred miles an hour. I will set out a few minutes later with my generals and cabinet in aircraft that will actually transport us and our horses to the area slightly in advance of your arrival.

“We have mounts similar to those you are on now waiting for you outside Petra, and you shall have the privilege of witnessing my leading our troops to victory over what shall by then be one of only two remaining enclaves of opposition to the New World Order. Smile for the cameras!”

Mac finally felt he had control of his horse, but he had no intention of following Carpathia in one of the ground vehicles. If any portion of the security detail was assigned elsewhere, Mac would find a way to join them, and then peel off to his own helicopter. He wouldn’t mind seeing what went down at Petra, though he had been taught that the actual fighting would take place twenty miles north in Buseirah, Jordan—the modern name of the city of Bozrah, ancient capital of Edom—when Messiah chased the Unity Army back toward Jerusalem.

Besides the dizziness that came with trying to stand for the first time in hours, Rayford found himself wholly dependent upon the small but wiry Abdullah Smith and the broader, stronger, and younger Razor. Leah had brought everything, it seemed, but crutches. She did her bit to help too, but she could not support him and mainly directed traffic, trying to keep his most vulnerable injuries isolated.

Rayford could put zero weight on the broken shinbone, splint or not. Hopping was out of the question, so the two men had to bear all his weight as they moved him to the ATV. Even his good foot touching the ground occasionally sent shock waves of pain throughout the rest of his body. The anesthetic in his temple was wearing off, and Leah had decided not to add more.

Straddling the ATV was a delicate operation. Leah rolled up a towel and bunched it under the knee of his broken leg in an attempt to keep his foot from touching the vehicle. That left him able to balance himself only with his good foot and leg, with his painful arms latched tightly to Razor’s waist. Rayford dreaded what he knew was coming. At some point his weight would shift to the broken shinbone side, and he would either have to wrestle Razor the other way or plant that foot to keep from flying off the ATV.

Once he was in place, Leah insisted he just sit there and get his bearings. “You okay?” she said.

“Think so,” he said, already exhausted. He shut his eyes and rolled his neck, hearing it pop and crack. Then he stole a look at the sky. Clouds covered half the visible canopy now, and they were beginning to roil in all different colors. The sun was half below the horizon, wide and flat and at its most burnt orange, painting the clouds in pinks and reds and yellows. Were he not fearing for his life, he’d have thought it one of the most beautiful skies he had ever seen.

Leah had final instructions for Razor. “I’ll lead the way,” she said. “Mr. Smith will follow you, should we have a problem and need to lift Captain Steele again. My machine has a lot of weight on it too, so if I can make it through a certain area, you should be able to as well. I’ll be trying to avoid ruts, bumps, even the smallest rocks, but of course we can’t avoid them all. Try to take the steep areas as slowly as possible, but you’ll need some power and momentum. Rayford, you’ll just have to hang on and grit your teeth. The first fifty yards or so are pretty clear, so I’ll try to keep an eye behind me to make sure you’re both doing okay.”

Rayford had always considered himself a man’s man. Six-four and thickly muscled, he had played sports through pain of all sorts. And since the Rapture, he’d endured his share of serious injuries. But as he sat there, vise-gripping Razor’s belt, he wanted to scream like a baby. Everything hurt. It was as if the pain had a life and mind of its own and threatened to kill him itself. It dug deep, mostly in his temple and shin, and it vibrated, throbbed, prodded.

When Razor so much as fired up the engine, the hum alone flashed through Rayford’s body and made him instantly light-headed. Razor would likely be able to tell if he passed out, just from the change in his grip. But Rayford was determined to gut this out.

Leah slowly pulled ahead, the pair of coolers hanging off the sides of her ATV like mismatched saddlebags. Razor turned his head. “Just say the word, and I stop.”

“Go,” Rayford managed, and the four-wheeler began rolling. “Lord, have mercy.”

“Okay?” Razor called back.

“Don’t ask, son. I’ll let you know. You just keep moving.”

Sebastian was struck by the grandeur of the early evening sun casting its glow over the black-clad enemy. Who’d have thought this evil mass of humanity could be seen in an attractive light? He had been joined by Otto Weser, the German who had maintained a small band of believers inside New Babylon until nearly the end.

“Ever dream you’d have this privilege, Otto?”

“Privilege? This is my definition of the awesome and terrible day of the Lord.”

“But to be standing here, facing Antichrist’s army on the last day of the earth as we know it . . .”

“I’d rather have acted on the truth when I had the chance and be in heaven already, if you want complete honesty.”

“Well, ’course,” Sebastian said, “but given that we missed it, there’s no place I’d rather be right now. I just wish my wife and daughter could be with me.”

“You wouldn’t want them out here,” Otto said, the understatement so obvious that Sebastian could not think of a retort. “You’re not bothered by an enemy close enough to look up our nostrils?”

Sebastian shook his head. “If they wanted to kill us and God allowed it, it would have happened long ago. I’ve been in aircraft that missiles had no business missing. I feel invulnerable standing here. I can’t beat this army, I know that, not on my own. But Dr. Ben-Judah and Dr. Rosenzweig and lots of other teachers have me convinced that this whole fighting force is going to make like the Midianites before Gideon and turn tail and run by the time this night is out. I can’t wait to see that.”