James agrees to shut down everything else at Bethany House so I can use power to have a conference with Aislin and Garai. I don’t tell him the call is also timed so we can hack in on my old lecture in Colorado Springs one last time, and transmit data on the toxin and vaccine.
The conference with the remaining Christian Elders doesn’t start off well, as we discuss what to do with the information that the gene therapy “marks” your DNA.
“What would you have us do? Die?” Garai demands when I suggest that Christians avoid taking the vaccine. “What good is a martyr’s death, if there is nobody left alive to remember it?”
“We’re already looking at losing all the kids who were raised off-grid because they can’t get a dose. You’re basically asking everyone who can legitimately receive a dose to commit suicide,” Aislin adds.
“I’m asking you to have faith,” I reply; “but let’s come back to our personal decisions later. What about the rest of the world? Doesn’t everyone deserve to know that they’re being marked? Even a staunch atheist should be mad about having their DNA rewritten like this. Shouldn’t everyone have a choice?”
“It’s just some junk DNA. If you give them the choice, then every Christian who chooses to take the vaccine in order to live will look like a faithless fool,” Garai says.
“Of course,” I reply. “That’s exactly the choice Henry knew we’d all be forced to make. You’re either dead, or a hypocrite. He can’t lose.”
“Then why are you suggesting playing right into his hands?” Aislin asks.
I’m not playing into Henry’s hands. We’re all playing into God’s hands.
“Because I’m tired of hypocrites. I’m tired of this faithless generation. But most of all, I’m tired of the two of you.”
I end the transmission.
“Ready to hack?” I ask Martha in the control booth, as James enters behind her.
“Karen ‘Talks-a-ton’ is right on schedule in Colorado Springs,” Martha says.
“You wanted to see me?” James asks me.
“Did you and Albert finish?”
“Yes. Everything’s in place and ready to go.”
“I finished the package we discussed,” I say, and carefully hand him a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. “Can you deliver it for me?”
He looks at the package in his hand and I can tell he’s dying to ask what’s in it, but he knows I won’t say. We all agreed that the less he and Albert know, the better.
“You mean right now?”
His eyebrows go up.
“Give me five minutes. We’re starting a hack on my old lecture. It won’t take long. We’re transmitting the data we have on the vaccine and hoping that the information is picked up around the world. Monitor the hack, and go ahead as soon as the data is sent.”
“You got it,” he says, and leaves.
“What’s that all about?” Martha asks, as she brings “Talks-a-ton’s” lecture onto the screen.
“Oh, you know … boys and explosives.”
Martha rolls her eyes.
We break in on the lecture as Talks-a-ton is explaining how the founding fathers were coerced by the church to include freedom of religion in the Constitution.
“Hello, Karen,” I say.
I signal Martha, and she transmits a data stream containing all of the information we’ve gathered on the toxin and the vaccine, including the part about the “tail.”
“Hello, Cephas!”
Karen is bubbling with more arrogance than usual; so I know something unpleasant is about to happen.
“I was hoping you’d drop in again. I have a special guest who wants to teach you the true meaning of sacrifice. Class dismissed.”
There’s a moment of delay as Talks-a-ton speaks with her technical people, which is just enough time for our vaccine data to finish downloading to the world.
“Hello, Cephas.”
Henry Portman’s face appears on the screen.
“This conversation isn’t being broadcast; so class is canceled for your former students today. You, on the other hand, need to learn a lesson.”
I see Martha start to work on her computer.
“Of course, Henry. It’s always such a pleasure.”
He looks away for a moment, as he reads some information on a nearby screen; then gets a look of surprise and disappointment.
“I see you’ve transmitted your discovery that the vaccine contains some harmless extra DNA. It appears that what I think of as a fitting tribute to my family, you call ‘the mark of the beast.’ I’m flattered, but it really is cruel of you, Cephas, don’t you think? Giving people hard choices is cruel by its very nature. They’re so much better off just enjoying their sex, drugs and videos.”
“In the end, the right choice should always be easy to make,” I reply.
“I’m so glad to hear you say that. As it turns out, I’m here specifically to give you an easy choice. There are thousands of baptized believers in McIntosh, South Dakota, including hundreds of well-trained and well-armed members of Four. As much as I’d like to flatten the place, it’s just too useful to show the world dead Corps agents who were killed holding nothing but a stun gun.”
“You know I don’t lead them. What do you want me to do about it?”
“I have the place surrounded. I also control the waterworks. Surrender yourself to me, or McIntosh will be the first spot in North America wiped out by the plague. Sacrificing yourself to save so many others might even earn you sainthood.”
“Don’t do it, Henry.”
The lights in the studio dim; then come back up.
Henry looks to one side, as if someone off-screen has gotten his attention.
“You’re rebroadcasting this conversation on another channel,” he says.
I glance into the control room and see that Martha looks pleased with herself for redirecting Henry’s feed, just as he admitted the plague is due to his toxin rather than a virus. Henry’s feed goes mute for a moment, as he pounds the table in front of him and barks orders at people who’re off-camera.
The lights start to flicker.
“You’ll find I’m full of surprises too. You brought this on yourself. The deaths of everyone in McIntosh are on your head.”
Henry finishes just before the power goes out entirely.
The first puzzle piece is in place.
“What have I done? I’ve killed everyone in McIntosh,” Martha says.
William runs into the studio.
“There was some sort of massive power surge, and then the power was cut entirely. It must be some sort of tracker the Corps is using to find illegal power taps. We’ve got to get out of here.”
The small staff of Bethany House grab essential possessions; then break for the exits. As Martha and I run through the tunnels, I see James and Albert emerge from the area marked with the danger sign. Looking down the tunnel, I see that the power is still on in that area. James gives me a thumbs up; then runs to confirm that everyone is out.
“Ready to make another crater?” I ask Albert.
“It’s the best part of my job,” he says, and picks up a heavy pack. I have no doubt that his most prized possessions include explosives, but I’m surprised to see the curved end of what must be about a two foot metal bar sticking out of the top as well.
With all those explosives, why does he need a crowbar?
When it became clear that we were going to use the time machine, it was also clear that doing so would be the end of Bethany House due to the massive amount of power that would be used. Since that day, Albert found several old airshafts into the ancient mine that we’re walking above. James and I lowered him in so he could explore them and set enough explosives to collapse the mine and take Bethany House down with it.
Albert stops me at the tunnel entrance.
“Get to the meeting point and get a headcount. We’ll be right behind you,” I say to Martha, and she runs off.
“Hold these while I hit the fail-safe,” Albert says, as he drops a dozen small, greenish crystals into my hand.
I raise my eyebrows at him when I see what they are.
“We agreed to destroy these,” I say.
“They might come in handy in the future,” he says; so I stuff them into my pocket.
I can see a remote detonator in his hand, but trust Albert to also install a second mechanism to ensure destruction. Hidden in the shadows - just inside the tunnel entrance - are two small boxes, each containing a simple on/off switch. The boxes are far enough apart that two people are required to activate them.
“Are you sure?” he asks, as he hands me a box.
“There’s no going back now,” I reply.
“No pun intended, I’m sure. Okay then. We need to activate the switches simultaneously. Count down from three,” he says, and I nod. “Three-two-one, go.”
We each click our switches and red lights start to flash on the boxes.
“We can disengage here for the next four minutes. Once we cross that line, it’ll blow a minute later - no matter what,” he says, and we run for the rendezvous point.
Martha and William meet us halfway, and confirm that everyone is accounted for.
“Was all data backed up and sent to another house?” Martha asks.
“I hit the button as I was leaving,” William says. “If there are any houses left to receive it, they’ll have it by now.”
We reach the meeting spot, to find that the group has instinctively formed a small perimeter. Everyone expects to hear government aircraft closing in and to see armed troops creeping through the trees at any time.
“The vaccine sample,” Cindi yells when she sees us. “It wasn’t where I left it, so I assumed Amelia grabbed it, but she doesn’t have it either. I’ve to go back in and get it.”
“Albert?” I ask.
Albert looks at his watch.
“We’ll never make it. We cross the fail-safe line in about ninety seconds.”
“There’s no time to retrieve the vaccine sample that might save every Christian in the world? What fail-safe line? What happens in ninety seconds?” Cindi asks.
“We rigged the house to blow up, just in case we were discovered,” Albert says, “which it’s going to do in just over two minutes. You’ll never make it.”
“But it’s our only sample!” Cindi starts to run towards the tunnel, but only makes a few steps before I catch her arm and stop her.
“Let me go!”
Cindi kicks me in the gut and prepares to throw me with a Judo move, but I hold fast.
“Don’t wait for the fail-safe. Blow it now,” I say.
Albert pushes the button on his remote without hesitation.
We feel the explosions before we hear or see them. They’re sequenced to go off deep underground first and work their way up. The low rumble starts the small house vibrating until all of its ancient glass windows first crack and then shatter. Next, dust pours from the windows like the house is a hot tea kettle releasing steam. We all expect the house itself to blow upwards, but when the rumble stops, the house is still standing.
The staff smile and laugh that their home away from home is not so easily destroyed - until we hear the sound of cracking timbers and the groaning of walls. We watch as the house first falls in on itself in slow motion, and then falls into the hole that two generations of Four members had lovingly burrowed out beneath it. If the detonations worked according to Albert’s designs, the majority of Four’s secrets now lay deep in the ground.
What have I done? Mom? Dad? What have I done?
“I’m sorry, Cuz,” I say to Cindi, and finally release her arm.
But not for the reason you think.
“That was our only sample. Why did you have him blow it early?” Cindi yells.
“Because I knew you’d try to run in for it,” I reply. “We can get another sample, but we can’t spare a single saint.”
I can tell from the looks on their faces that the group needs to mourn the loss of Bethany House. Some of them first visited that house when they were young enough to play hide-and-seek in its tunnels, and are going to have a hard time letting go of the memories. They want to walk to the edge of the hole and grieve, but Albert warns them off, saying the ground may be too unstable to hold their weight.
“Is there anything else we can do to ensure there’s nothing left for Henry to find?” I ask Albert.
Albert is a guy who anticipates multiple ways to destroy things, and produces a red can that I assume is full of some sort of flammable liquid.
“They may not have been Christians, but the Vikings really knew how to throw a funeral,” he says. “There’s enough wood from the house to burn for a while, and if we’re lucky, it’ll work down to some of the coal that was left behind and burn for weeks … maybe even years.”
“I love it,” Martha says. “An eternal flame for Bethany House.”
Heads nod in agreement; so Albert carefully works his way to the edge and empties the contents of the red can into the hole and onto the wooden frame. He waits a moment or two; then tosses in the entire can and a thermal igniter. He barely makes it away from the edge, when a yellow fireball erupts into a small mushroom cloud.
“Trust Albert to send Bethany out with pizzazz,” William says, and everyone cheers.
The cheer doesn’t last for long, as everyone’s thoughts turn to what this place meant and where we’re going to go from here. The exception is my pragmatic cousin, James. James is checking the time and watching the skies for the first appearance of Federal drones.
“We’ve got to go,” James says. “I can’t believe they’re not here already.”
“Go? Where are we supposed to go?” Cindi asks.
“How about away from the explosion, for starters?” James replies to his younger sister as only an older brother can.
I look at the faces of the small flock that remains. They’re trained in high tech espionage and hand-to-hand combat for self-defense; but this is the first time they’ve truly had to run from Federal agents. Living off the grid has made them feel hunted in the virtual electronic world, but not one of them has ever felt hunted like an animal in the real world before, and they’re scared.
Lead them, Cephas.
Splitting up would be the better course, but - without asking - I can see they want to stick together and continue to mourn the loss of Bethany House. They need this time together.
“Break into groups of two or three and follow me in a wedge pattern - keeping the group in front of you in sight at all times. Run when I run, and crawl when I crawl, so we all stay together. I’ll be zigzagging because we need to stay under canopy at all times to avoid the cameras on drones.”
I’m relieved to see their faces change to those of people who have a purpose again.
Without another word, I turn and run, with Martha on my heels and the group following.
We’re six kilometers away, when we hear the first government aircraft circling the smoking remains of our old home. I come to a stop under thick cover at the edge of the tree line. Everyone is breathing hard and needs a rest.
“If they haven’t already, their next action will be to deploy enough drones to start a search pattern,” James says.
I can see the faces going back to concern.
“The backup for Bethany is an abandoned place called Timber Ridge Camp,” William says. “It’s at least ten kilometers from here. Capon Springs is a little closer, but the terrain is tougher and you’ve been leading us the wrong way to go to either place. Did you even know which direction you were running?”
In fact, I didn’t. I just ran in the direction that somehow felt right to me.
“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” I quote Proverbs 16:9.
I look over the faces of the group. They look like rabbits being chased by wolves and here we are, huddled like so many rabbits in a thicket - afraid to move. This thicket is on the edge of a field, where we know Federal drones might spot us as soon as we step out from under the canopy.
“It’s only a few hours until dark, and then their heat sensors will see us right through the canopy,” James says.
Their faces again show that they’re losing hope. As I look at them each in turn, I’m reminded of the perfect love and perfect patience of Jesus Christ. When even His Apostles continuously expressed doubt and unbelief, He found ways to gently guide them and rekindle their faith in Him.
I bow my head and pray, and sense them all doing the same.
“Is everyone ready?” I ask, when I hear their breathing has calmed.
There are nods of recognition. I know they’re still thinking we can’t outrun the aircraft that are searching for us; but they also look at peace. Despite the odds, they’ve placed their trust in the Lord.
“I present to you a temporary safe house that I think we should name ‘The manger.’”
I pull back a limb so those in the front can see the barn that sits beside Bill and Wendy’s house. Wendy is outside feeding her horses, but seems to be watching the tree line more than her work.
How does that woman always seem to know?
“Everyone into the barn - two at a time,” I say, as Martha and I check the sky for drones and send Cindi and James sprinting across the pasture. We hold up the group every time we see anything suspicious in the sky; but soon Martha and I are the only two remaining in the thicket.
“Before we run, I want to know something,” Martha says. “A week ago, when you told me who’s going to save us and the world… did you say ‘I am’ as in Cephas Paulson is going to save the world? Or did you say “I AM” as in “‘tell them that I AM has sent you’ is going to save the world?”
I smile, then grab her hand and run.