“Dad … I’ve been thinking about our conversation, when I asked if standing up for Jesus is the proudest moment of your life.”
It was on the last day I saw Mom and Dad, before they disappeared.
“I take it you have more questions.”
“It’s more of a thought than a question,” I said. “I’m just wondering if maybe there’s a special place reserved for you in Heaven.”
“I certainly hope not,” he replied. “In fact, I hope that what I did inside the mountain is considered commonplace in Heaven - just another act of faith and sacrifice among countless others.”
“You don’t think there should be any special reward waiting for you?” I asked.
“There is one thing I’d like,” he said. “The next time I see Jesus, there are two words I’d love to hear Him say to me.”
“Just two words? What are they?”
“Well done.”
******
I dream that I’m lying in an old bathtub, and that Jordan and Hannah are dumping bucket after bucket of ice on top of me.
“Scream,” Jordan says.
“It doesn’t hurt that badly,” I reply.
“You can scream now, or save it for the next time you look in a mirror.”
“Jordan! Be nice!” Hannah says. “Jocie looks good with black lines.”
Hannah holds up a mirror. My face is covered with the same black lines that mark old members of The Corps. They also run down my arms and legs.
I try to view them as ugly, but I can’t, because I know that Jesus wouldn’t see them that way. Things like skin, scars, and deformities don’t mean anything, when you can see what’s inside a person’s heart.
I think about the fact that I invented “living scars” to hide the fact that I’m washed from the world, and laugh. To Jesus, we’re all covered with the living scars of our sins.
“This is barbaric,” I hear a voice say, and realize that it’s from outside of the dream. I focus on it until I’ve pushed the dream aside and am sure that I’m awake.
“Just keep the cryo-pads at thirty-seven degrees Celsius,” I hear Dad’s voice say. “Her body is breaking down the toxin at an amazing rate, but she took a massive load. The cold will buy her the time she needs to fight the toxin naturally.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I know that because I read, doctor. The method was first invented in Baltimore over two hundred years ago, after the Final Holy War. It’s called ‘The Angel Protocol.’”
I try to speak, but I can’t because there are tubes down my throat. I’m able to open my eyes just a sliver and can see Dad sitting beside me. He takes my hand and touches it to his face. What I can see of them, my arm and hand are covered with black lines.
Mom and Aunt Cindi enter the room, and Mom takes my other hand.
“Doctor?” Dad says. “Do you think we could have some family time?”
“I’ve sent data and samples to every Four house around the world; so there’s no way for Five-X to contain the antivenin,” Cindi says, once the doctor leaves. “It also means I don’t need Martha acting like my personal bodyguard anymore.”
She looks at Mom.
“You were always there when I needed a bodyguard,” Mom says.
“Actually, I’m beginning to think that I was Jocie’s bodyguard when you were pregnant with her,” Cindi says. “Now I know why.”
“Is it going to work?” Dad asks.
“Perfectly,” Cindi replies. “We could have made an antivenin using the toxin sample, but it might have taken months. Jocie’s unique combination of natural genes, vaccination, and exposure to both the original and modern toxin, created a powerful antivenin within minutes of her drinking the toxin.”
Aunt Cindi looks down at me as if she’s going to cry.
“Jocie really was the cure,” Cindi says. “She’s just like you, Cephas. She was willing to sacrifice herself. I just hope the sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”
“When will the antivenin be ready for distribution?” Mom asks.
“We’ve already shown that we can reproduce it and scale it up. We’ll save a lot of people, but we don’t have years like we did with vaccine distribution. There’s a toxin cloud circling the globe, and there’s just no way to get ahead of it.”
Dad sighs.
“What are the casualty numbers?” he asks. “I haven’t dared to ask.”
“So far, just over a million worldwide are showing the initial signs of toxin poisoning, but there are only a few thousand reported deaths - mostly among people who were already showing sensitivity and extensive prior genetic damage.”
“Only a million worldwide? There should be a billion by now. How can that be?”
Dad? Why can’t you see it? The puzzle pieces are right in front of you.
The sedatives that they gave me for the pain must have a paralytic effect. I try to squeeze first Mom’s hand, and then Dad’s, but I can’t make my muscles work.
“All we can figure is that since it was air detonated, the toxin is taking longer to reach the ground than it did during the Final Holy War,” Mom says. “It might buy us a few days, but our casualty projections are still in the billions in the next week alone. Unfortunately, panic is already setting in. The urban centers closest to the detonations are reporting rushes out of the cities before quarantines are put into place. Once people realize that the toxin is global and there’s nowhere to hide, there’s going to be worldwide chaos.”
“Sooner or later, someone is going to realize Bauer’s involvement. When that happens, the backlash against The Washed could quickly get violent,” Cindi says. “We should quietly warn everyone to be ready to hide.”
“It’s too late for that,” Dad says.
He uses his com to turn on the large screen on the wall. It doesn’t take long before a pre- recorded announcement from Tyrone Bauer comes onto the screen.
“The days in which The Washed will hide are almost over,” he says. “The earth will be cleansed, and a new era of Christianity will begin.”
Dad mutes the sound.
“He explained everything. He couldn’t resist the urge to gloat.”
“We should get out of here,” Aunt Cindi says. “We can take Jocie to a safe house and care for her there.”
Dad silently stares at me.
“No,” Dad says. “We can’t just hide anymore. Our daughter risked everything to save billions of people. She understands the value of spreading hope in a hopeless situation. We owe it to her to do everything we can.”
Thanks Dad, but I’ve got this.
I try again to focus on my hand and make it move, but instead, I slip back into sleep.
The next time I awaken, I’m able to open my eyes a little wider. Mom and Dad haven’t left my side, and the newscast has been left running. Global panic has already set in, and the screen is filled with scenes of chaos and destruction, but Dad is ignoring it and staring at me. I’m still unable to give him any indication that I’m awake.
“Who is this woman?” Dad asks.
“Cephas?” Mom says from somewhere behind him.
“This woman,” he repeats. “She took away my baby girl.”
He continues to stare at me.
“I wish I could have travelled through time with her,” Dad says. “I wish for just one second she could have heard and seen my thoughts, so she could see herself through my eyes. I’d show her her own birth, so she could feel how I felt at that moment, and countless moments since that day.”
“I’ve shared your thoughts and emotions, Cephas,” Mom says. “I think that moment could be overwhelming.
“Overwhelming,” Dad whispers to me. “There’s no better word. I never expected just how overwhelming it would be, to be your father. From the moment you were born, I’ve been working on the puzzle. I had lots of ideas about what I wanted you to become, but instead of giving me what I thought I wanted, the Lord gave me something much better. He gave me you.”
Uncle Cameron comes to the door.
“It’s time,” he says.
Dad kisses me on the forehead, just like he did countless times when tucking me into bed at night.
“It’s time for the world to meet the next Paulson,” he says. “You’ve been a ray of hope once before, Jocie. Let’s see if the Angel of the Zone can do it again.”
When Mom and Dad leave, Uncle Cameron takes up guard duty outside the door. He’s not as ferocious as Mom, or as skilled as Dad, but I’d still take him as my guard over a hundred armed policemen. He only stands there for a few minutes before he looks at his watch, and then comes into the room and sits in the chair next to my bed.
There’s a picture of Dad on the screen, and the newscaster is trying to fill time as he waits for something to happen.
“We’re about to go live to Winchester, Virginia for a surprise interview with Cephas and Martha Paulson. The Paulsons fueled weeks of speculation, when their whereabouts were unknown to even the government, and have promised to shed light on various world events.”
The screen switches to a live shot of Dad. I can see Mom, Aunt Cindi, Austin, and Zera in the background. Dad must have hand-picked the reporter. She’s wearing a modest but classic dress that leaves a small silver cross visible on a necklace. Her clear skin indicates that she’s Washed.
“Cephas, I’d love to feel like I’m digging to the bottom of a story, but the truth is that all anyone seems to know is that the horror of The Final Holy War is back … and this time it was brought down upon us by Christians. In just a few days, we’ve seen power outages, rockets crashing back to earth, and worldwide panic as people start to get sick. So how about if I just give you the floor?”
Dad looks so sad.
I force my eyes open a little wider. Uncle Cameron notices and blocks my view for a moment as he stares into my eyes, and then leaves the room.
“Thanks, Dana,” Dad says. “I’ve given a couple of pretty big speeches and interviews in my life, but I must admit that this one is giving me more pain than I felt when I was inside the mountain.”
He takes a deep breath.
“The unity of the Christian movement didn’t last long after I was rescued. We all worked together to restore the First Amendment and religious freedom, but in other ways, division was with us from the start. As the problems caused by the Mark of the Beast vaccine became apparent, and Washed Christians were driven into hiding for our own protection, those divisions became even more pronounced. I guess you could say that as the Mark of the Beast was eating into The Marked, there was also something eating into many of The Washed.”
Uncle Cameron comes back into my room, followed by a doctor, who shines a light in my eyes.
“From among a few of The Washed, a new Christian organization called Five-X was born, and with it came a new Holy War. You see, the name Five-X refers to the toxin dose needed to kill all of The Marked without affecting The Washed. The organization ‘Four’ was reactivated, and we’ve been fighting Five-X from the shadows for over a decade.”
“She couldn’t possibly be conscious,” the doctor tells Uncle Cameron. “The eyelids opening must be a muscle spasm.”
The doctor leaves.
“You now know that the leader of Five-X is Tyrone Bauer, CEO of Chi-One Corporation. I’m sorry to report that everything he said in his message is true.”
Uncle Cameron snorts at the screen, but he’s been watching me.
“Did you know that both your Aunt Cindi and your mom had kids without taking any pain killers?” he asks me. “They tell me that you’re in more pain than you could possibly bear, but they don’t know the women of our family like I do.”
“We estimate that the rockets from Chi-One Corporation have dropped approximately five hundred and twenty metric tons of toxin over major population centers worldwide,” Dad says. “That is a concentration high enough to slowly kill anyone who took the government vaccine eighteen years ago, and their descendants. The full effects should be felt soon, as the toxin drifts to the ground.”
Uncle Cameron looks at me, and then at the line of fluids being dripped into me. He stands and I hear beeping, as he adjusts the machine.
“Your parents always have something to say, and I’m betting that you do, too. I know you can handle cutting the pain killers by half.”
Thank you, Uncle Cameron … but you need to do one more thing. You need to shut off the cold.
“And I’m tired of looking at blue lips,” he says. “Let’s warm you up.”
“A lot of people are going to die, but I want you to know that there’s still hope,” Dad says. “Scientists from Four have long speculated that it would be possible to create an antivenin against the toxin, much like those that are created for snake bites. I wouldn’t reverse the mark of the beast vaccine, but it would prevent the toxin from doing additional damage. Unfortunately, creating the antivenin required a sample of the original toxin from the Final Holy War was required, and none existed.”
A wave of pain shoots through me.
“The two brief power outages that darkened the eastern seaboard were the result of time travel, to get the necessary sample. The trip was a success, and the antivenin is being produced. We just need time.”
Austin stands and walks up behind Dad.
“The trip wasn’t a complete success,” Austin says. “My sister, Jocie, is the one who travelled back two hundred years to the time of The Final Holy War. She got the toxin sample, but when she got back to this time we were attacked by Five-X. The only way to save the sample and make the antivenin was for her to drink it. She’s upstairs in this hospital, right now, fighting for her life.”
“Austin, I don’t think…” Dad says, before Austin cuts him off.
“I know Jocie’s life seems like a small thing when we’re talking about the entire world, but my sister is the world to me.”
Thanks, little brother.
“Don’t disappoint him, Jocie,” Uncle Cameron says, beside me. “You’re as tough as a McCleod and as smart as a Paulson. You can beat this thing.”
“She willingly sacrificed herself for the Marked. The very people who have hunted us, and kidnapped us, and used us as breeding stock,” Austin continues, then turns to Dad. “Dad, you once said that if you had to die, you wanted to die as a Christian. I think the world needed to hear that if Jocie dies, she’ll have done just that. She humbly placed her life into the hands of the Lord and put the lives of her neighbors above her own.”
Austin walks away from the microphone. I see Zera put an approving hand on his shoulder and they walk out of the shot together.
I’m not dead yet, but I now understand the concept of pain being an eleven out of ten. Something else makes sense too – I understand what Dad meant when he spoke about how reaching the end of your physical endurance makes you finally look inward for strength. I’ve never felt closer to the Holy Spirit than I do right now.
A nurse enters the room.
“Her heart rate has increased,” she says, looking at the equipment.
The paralytic effect of the pain killers is wearing off, so I’m also starting to shake.
“Everything is going to stay just like it is,” Uncle Cameron says and puts himself between the nurse and the equipment.
The nurse hurries out of the room.
“I think the world should see Jocie,” Dana says, in the interview. “Could we send a camera crew to her room?”
Dad looks at Mom, and then nods. As the screen goes to a commercial, Uncle Cameron taps his com and starts directing security personnel.
Austin and Zera arrive first and stand together at the foot of my bed.
They make a cute couple.
“Aunt Cindi estimates she took at least twenty times the usual lethal dose,” Austin says. “How is she still alive?”
“She’s a Paulson,” Zera replies. “Your Dad was on the edge of death inside the mountain, and yet he stood there - standing tall with his arms wide. I’d expect no less from Jocie.”
The camera crew - along with Mom, Dad, and Dana - crowds into the room, forcing Austin and Zera to stand aside. My shaking is worsening and the nurse has returned with a doctor, presumably to freeze and drug me again. I focus all of my energy into my right hand, calming it.
“What’s going on here?” the doctor asks. “Why was the treatment changed?”
Dad puts his hand on the doctor’s shoulder.
“It’s not about the treatment anymore, doctor. It’s no longer in our hands.”
My hand, Austin. Look at my hand!
Dad sits next to me and takes my right hand. I pull it away. I’m able to open my eyes more and stare at Austin. Dad tries to take my hand again. I pull it away a second time and continue to stare at Austin.
“It’s me!” Austin says. “She wants me! We developed a finger motion code for communicating silently.”
Hallelujah!
Austin pushes his way through the people and takes my right hand. I focus my energy into using our hand code.
Austin looks at Dad.
“It doesn’t make any sense. She’s saying ‘2501c.’”
“What do you think that means?” Dana asks.
Whoever Dana is, she’s getting the interview of a lifetime.
That was stupid.
I switch messages.
“She switched it around,” Austin reports. “Now she’s saying 1c 250.’”
Come on Dad! The pieces are all right there. Put it together.
Dad looks at the doctor.
“I want that tube out of her,” Dad says. “Get it out right now.”
“It would kill her,” the doctor says. “I examined her two hours ago and her lungs were filled with cysts.”
“Examine her again.”
The doctor walks over and scans my chest with a device. She looks at the screen, and then scans me again.
“That’s impossible,” the doctor says as she scans me a third time. “Her lungs are almost completely healed.”
“Look at her face,” Austin says. “The black lines are fading.”
“She eats toxin for breakfast,” Dad whispers to himself.
With a simple order from the doctor’s com, the breathing tube starts to withdraw from my throat by itself. When it’s out, everyone seems to lean a little closer. I try to speak normally, but my first attempt comes out sounding like a hiss.
Dad leans in closer, so I can whisper.
He leans down, and I say something into his ear that makes him sit up. Dad looks at me, with his mouth open.
“God has given me some tough puzzles to solve, Jocie,” he says, to me, “but you are truly the most difficult and most wonderful of them all.”
For the first time in my life, I see tears starting to well up in Dad’s eyes.
“We’re not all puzzle solvers,” Mom says. “Can you let the rest of us in on what’s happening?”
“Bauer used the composite formula that the kids left at the safe house before they escaped,” Dad says. “Jocie changed the annealing process to a single heating step of two hundred and fifty degrees.”
“What does that mean?” Cindi asks.
“It means the payloads would have been better heat shielded if Bauer had covered them with peanut brittle. Jocie cooked his entire stockpile of toxin. That’s why so few people are getting sick.”
“Cephas?” Dana interrupts. “Are you saying that the threat has passed?”
Dad won’t stop staring at me. He doesn’t care about the cameras, or the fact that the world is watching. A tear rolls down his cheek.
“I’m saying that one person - with great faith - can change the world.”
I try to smile, but I can feel it fading from my face as my head rolls to the side and I lose consciousness.