Chapter 30
Thousands of people kept watch near the tomb of my cloned Jesus. The sounds of the birds alerted them to the closeness of the rising sun. I tried to dial it in on TV but no local stations carried the scene. It wasn’t because they didn’t feel it was newsworthy but because the Prophet Thompson declared it an exclusive media event for his network of cable stations. Everyone else was locked out. I switched to one of his stations and sat down to watch.
When I saw this something went off in my head. I was sure there was an event about to happen. Thompson could smell ratings and I couldn’t even imagine what advertising time cost.
I was watching the cameras trained on the tomb when suddenly into the screen stepped the Prophet himself. “The Prophet,” I yelled. “That’s it. There was the beast, the Antichrist and the False Prophet. My God, we are really watching the beginning of the end.”
Then Thompson spoke. “My dearly beloved flock, my heart is a mixture of intense emotions. Only a few short days ago I watched as the Prince of Peace, the leader of the world, the messiah, Jesus, our lord, was shot to death. A gaping hole in his head allowed his life blood to pour out. The scriptures saith, “Without the shedding of blood there could be no peace in the world.”
I flipped open my Bible and went to the Concordance in the back. I found a verse similar to the one he quoted but the reason Jesus shed His blood wasn't for world peace but for the forgiveness of sins.
“And I stand here like you would like to be,” Thompson continued. “I stand here prayerfully hoping that the glorious sunrise will bring with it a new day, a new dawn, a new era, a new peace, a new government, a new world leader—the risen Jesus.
“We are only moments away. Could you all pray with me?” He paused then began to pray in his preacher prayer voice. “Even now, come Lord Jesus!”
BLINDING LIGHT filled the television. I could hear screams and Thompson was trying to talk. The lens readjusted to the light and I could see that the stone had rolled away from the front of the tomb. I breathlessly waited like all those watching around the world. Through the mist and early morning fog, a figure stepped from the rocky tomb. He was arrayed in gleaming white and there seemed to be a backlit glow to his presence.
The cameras tightened onto his face. It was Jesus. It was definitely him. But he looked so much younger. So much healthier.
Thompson was watched by millions as he raced from his news reporter position and fell at the feet of Jesus. The messiah pulled him up from the ground and spoke.
“I am risen. I have returned from the grave to rightfully take my place as the ruler of this world. I anoint the Rev. Thompson as my Prophet. His word is my word. I also anoint the Archbishop Russo as the successor to Peter, the head of my church, the Pontifex Maximus.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. In a one minute's time Jesus rises from the dead, makes Thompson’s word law for the whole world and appoints Russo as the Pope. My head dropped into my hands. I had just seen the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Book of Revelation. And I was the cause. I brought about the end of the world. I wept. I wept bitter and hard tears for several hours.
In Israel the worshipers fell at his feet wherever he walked. They clamored to touch him in hopes that their diseases would be healed. Lame people were walking away whole. Blind people could see. I would have believed it if I hadn’t seen the faces on a few of those miracle receivers. They were longtime Thompson employees. Planted for the effect. Something stunk about what I was seeing. Only I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I sat and watched television most of the day until I heard a car pull into the driveway. I ran to the table where I had left the gun and grabbed it. I walked slowly to the window and peered out. It was Beth, Cari and the kids.
I raced out to them and gave them all kisses. The soldiers ushered them into the house and opened special issue bags for each of them and gave instructions. Our new identities were in place and we were in our hiding place.
After they left I sat with my family and relayed the stories of my trip across Pennsylvania. Beth told me about Mary Grace’s heroic act and how they were protected by the dissenting churches. She finished up with the tale of their trip to California.
Afterward, we ate and then Cari caught me alone and asked, “Dad, I’m really confused about this Jesus. If he is really not the true Jesus then how did he resurrect from the dead? Not only did he resurrect but he looks years younger. How? Why? Are we doing the right thing? Shouldn’t you just give your self up to the Pope?”
“Cari, the clone's resurrection has me totally confused. I’ll research my notes. I know there is something in them that will shed some light on this. As far as turning myself in, well, you know what they did to Mary Grace, Father Fred and Professor Grant. They would do the same to me, your mother, you and your kids. We’ll be safe here as long as I don’t release any more information. After all, Russo has the world’s churches to run and Thompson has the world to run. I’ll soon be forgotten.”
And we were. For months we lived in peace as we watched the world move at a break neck speed towards its own destruction. Diseases, famines and plagues were gripping nation after nation. Each of them had to come to the messiah clone and declare their allegiance and worship of him before their country could live in peace. I still felt safe in our little mountain top corner of the world. That was until the earthquakes came.
The one that has me presently trapped under the rubble of my former safe house came only hours after I called Hesidence’s direct number. You see, I had finally discovered something that was tucked deep back in my memory and in my earliest notebooks. When I discovered it, I realized that I had the hidden secret that could end the madness of the false messiah who controlled the world.
It was like a bolt of lightening hit me. The whole conversation and scene came flowing back to me.
“Doctor MacDonald, I’d like you to do one extra little thing for me,” asked Father Russo. It was only days after I had successfully cloned the egg that became the messiah.
“What is it, Father?” I asked.
“I have this great fear that I’m going to foul up this wonderful moment for the both the religious and scientific world. If for some reason the egg is rejected by its surrogate mother then we are fools before the world. I would like a little insurance against my own stupidity.”
“You’re right. We better have a contingency plan,” I agreed.
“Please, make me a second egg. We will freeze it and if there is a need for it then we can move quickly. If there isn’t then I will destroy it right away,” Father Russo promised.
A second egg. A frozen second egg that could be used to impregnate another surrogate mother a few years down the road. That Jesus could be brought up in total seclusion. And finally used at the most opportune moment. They had planned the assassination of the first clone all along. My news only made them quicken the pace of their plans.
Our new messiah was simply a younger clone of my first Jesus. He wasn’t resurrected. He wasn’t rejuvenated. He wasn’t even the Jesus clone that I knew. He was simply a carbon copy. I supposed that he was trained in seclusion for this moment as well. His arrogance and aggressiveness were untypical of even his predecessor.
My news would completely set Russo, Thompson and their second clone back on their heels. No wonder he wanted me dead. I was still the only thing on earth that could stop them.
I had called Hesidence then the quake hit our area. My only hope is that he will find these pages when he arrives. I don’t expect that he’ll find me alive. I can feel the last of my life-force starting to slowing leave me.
I need to add one more thing. I did finally discover what the real Jesus meant when he said that he didn’t come to condemn the world but to save it. I finally figured out how he saved it. It was that verse that Thompson quoted on his pre-resurrection show. “Without the shedding of blood there could be no forgiveness of sins.” That’s why he came. He came to die on the cross. His blood paid for my sins. I can go in peace knowing that in a few moments I’ll be rejoined with my family and be in the presence of the real Messiah, Jesus Christ.
I’ll put my pen down now. I hear something. It’s the sound of shoes moving over the rubble along our street. I can’t see who it is but it sounds like there is more than one. I was right. There are two rescuers coming my way. I can see them now. They’re getting closer. I can see their faces.
Oh my Lord! It’s Russo’s assassins. If they find my notes they’ll destroy any chance of the world being saved. They see me. Soteri is smiling as he moves right down to the opening where I am watching him from.
“What’s up, doc? I bet you thought that you would never see us again. Well, since we ran out of friends and relatives to kill we thought we might as well do you now. Say bye bye.”
I heard a shot then another. I expected to open my eyes and see myself in heaven but I was still in my rubble prison but the two bodies of my would-be assassins lay bleeding from powerful head wounds. Someone had ended their lives.
“Sorry, it took me so long, Matthew but the roads are a little torn up. But I made it in time to save your life,” Hesidence said with a grim smile.
“Jack, I’m not going to make it much longer but I’ve put everything you need to know in this manuscript. Take it and try to stop the madness I started.”