The Gatherers
Year One
Episode # 3 - The Remnant

He had nothing left but a rundown trailer and a beat-up, old ford that had seen better days. He himself had seen better days but all of the good days were long gone. The land he owned was a small parcel on a beach facing the Atlantic ocean in a location called the Eastern Prom. The Back Cove was only a few short miles to the east and there was a time when he enjoyed visiting there with the tourists.

Each year the tourists came to the vacation hot spots of Maine. When they went to the Back Cove, they would find an elderly black man there, who walked with a limp and expounded tales from Back Cove‘s history. Whether they were stories of the first settlers of Maine or battles along the coast with pirates and cutthroats, people loved to hear them. Craig Moore could spin quite the yarn. The tourists loved him and the locals enjoyed having him around.

He had been retired from the United States Marine Corp for several years and the rest of his own past he wanted to forget. To help him forget he moved to Maine and surrounded himself with people. Back Cove was especially filled with people from just about every walk of life, so Moore made himself known there. The locals and the regular tourists got to know him so well they began to call him “Pa”. Many of the tourists who visited every year came knowing they might be able to find Moore anywhere along the Cove. Because his personality was so dynamic, they looked forward to seeing their “Pa”.

Something happened one year and it made Moore keep to himself. He stayed in his trailer on the beach, living off his retirement in solitude. The tragedy which happened he kept to himself, telling no one. After all, why should he burden anyone with any of his woes? They didn’t need it. And neither did he. Unfortunately he had it and couldn’t get rid of it. It stayed with him, keeping him awake at nights. It kept him from going to the Back Cove. It stole the joy he once had in his heart.

This night was no different.

Seven days ago, the outside world went silent. The cable went out, except for the local stations. The phone lines were also down. Something was wrong. It could be felt in the air. If a lack of communication outside of town wasn’t disconcerting enough, then hundreds of people vanishing all at once was. No one could stop talking about it.

People vanished from their cars, from their jobs, from taking walks. Pregnant mothers lost their unborn children from their wombs. It was said that there was a cook-out at the Baptist Church near the Back Cove and every single person vanished in the blink of an eye. They were all gone. Not one person was spared and Moore himself had stood on the lawn of that church after he had heard about it. He had wanted to see it for himself. All around him, there were tables with food, chairs around the tables, a volley ball net was set up…but there were no people. There were clothes on the ground where those people had been, however…those people were gone.

No one knew what happened, but they had their theories. Because of some of those theories, there had been three suicides in the local area. On the day the vanishings had occurred Moore had been sitting in a lawn chair on the beach and he could have sworn something had fallen from the sky and gone right into the ocean. It had been a speck when he saw it and didn’t think anything of it until he went into town for some basic staples. The whole town was in an uproar. People screaming and carrying on. Accidents in the streets. After he heard of the vanishings and about planes falling from the sky, he wondered if that was what he had seen.

Then, when the outside world went silent, more horrific theories were invented. Was America being invaded? Was it like War of the Worlds? Did aliens exist? Were creatures coming right out of the Atlantic to wreak havoc?

People were now terrified. For the most part, they stayed in their homes as if expecting something more terrible was about to happen.

Moore couldn't help but wonder if he was the only one in Maine who knew what was happening. He stood on the beach overlooking the ocean and took a deep breath. He didn’t want this kind of responsibility. No one should live with this kind of responsibility because sooner or later, it would bring death. Just like it brought death to the man who was lying on the sofa in Moore’s home.

The man had told him what he had seen and who needed to be told. Now Moore was the only one who could bring the message. Moore didn’t want to do it. He had no desire to be the one who carried this kind of message. It carried no hope for the future. It brought nothing but despair.

Moore let out a weary sigh and shook his head. He knew he had no choice. He realized there was no one who could be the bearer of bad news but himself. It had fallen upon him. This was not a cross he wanted to bear but now he had to find the President of the United States of America and tell him what the dead man had told him.

It had been an extremely busy seven days for Director Darren T. Fuller, but he didn’t mind being busy. It was far better to be doing something - especially in a time of crisis - than it was to be doing nothing at all. He felt they were making some progress. The city of Albany was as safe as it could be from the terrorists attacks. Not only were the local law enforcement agencies in full force, but so were the National Guard who were doing their best to help those in need after the recent attacks.

Safe houses were set up for anyone who came seeking refuge. Hospitals, school gymnasiums and shelters were nearly overcrowded, but no one was turned aside. No one was refused. Dry rations and bottled water were given. The best news of all was that reinforcements would soon be on the way. The worst case scenario would be if they didn’t arrive in a timely manner. There were still pockets of violence throughout the streets. Looters were becoming common and innocent people were being taken advantage of.

People were still in shock. It was bad enough they had been attacked by terrorists in a place where no one ever believed such a thing could be possible. It was also bad enough when loved ones were killed in the streets. But there was that other mystery no one could respond to. Why had some of their loved ones simply vanished? That was the greatest shock of all. Most people didn’t know how to deal with it.

Only a few suspected what really happened. Those few realized they were going to have a hard time convincing some people that God had raptured the true church from the world. Others wouldn’t want to believe that the Tribulation was next and it was only going to get worse before it got better.

The Federal Building on North Pearl Street and Clinton Ave was also a temporary safe place for those who needed it and Fuller was back in his office with his staff in the ATD Center. They were all working overtime to do what they could to restore some semblance of order. Power was still a luxury now due to the EMP attack. Fortunately the Federal Building had some generators shielded by heavy walls of concrete. Those generators had some areas working, although not all. They kept power for the people in the shelters and important areas, like where William Fronk was working his magic on the computer he put together from scratch while they were at Bunker Island.

Another accomplishment going for them, Fuller believed, was the Storm Breaker was fully operational. Seven days ago, he thought Keith LeBeau had had it in working order, yet problems soon developed. With the help of Fronk and a young rookie pilot named Jeremy Bandjough, LeBeau finally managed to get the fully armed gunship off the ground and into the air. LeBeau was eager to shoot at something now that it was up causing Fuller to ground him until the man cooled down. Now Storm Breaker was on the rooftop of the Federal Building in Albany, waiting for a mission.

Others were also waiting for a mission. While Albert Barrington busied himself with helping Fronk, Marc Shiva stayed always by the side of Staci Cohen helping her as she saw to those who needed medical help. He carried whatever she needed and followed her throughout the shelter, marveling at her compassion to those in need. She had wanted to go to Albany Medical, but was cautioned by Barrington not to. When she pressed him on it he told her he had a strong feeling she would not be safe at Albany Medical. There still could be terrorists at large and some of them could be after her. They would know she was a doctor at the hospital where Ishmael Musad had died under her care. She was obviously a target. With those warnings, Staci reluctantly agreed to stay. Shiva gladly volunteered to be her assistant until he was needed elsewhere.

Having visited her latest patient, Staci moved to a nearby wall and leaned her back against it. Without realizing she was doing it, she reached her hand up to touch the necklace she was wearing. It had once been her sisters, but after Nichole vanished in the rapture, the necklace was brought to her by a man who had once wanted to kill her. Now he was her brother in Christ, something she could not help but continue to be amazed at. Taking a deep breath, she let her head fall back. “Marc, I’m soo tired.”

Shiva reached into his pack and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her. “Here. You need to sit down and drink this,” he told her.

Wearily, she took the water and opened it. “Thank you.” As she took a sip, she noticed the approach of Bandjough. The young rookie looked to be excited about something. “Hi, J. Where are you off to?”

“I’m heading for the roof, Doc,” he replied, stopping to look at her with his baby blue eyes. Bandjough was the youngest ATD agent on staff, but it was said of his piloting that he was crazier than LeBeau. “I think we’re heading out soon. ‘Bout time, too. Getting a little stir crazy, ya know?”

“I know. Best to keep yourself busy than so you won’t go crazy. Right?”

Bandjough nodded. “Oh, I was told the Director is looking for you guys.”

Shiva clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. We’ll head on up to see him.”

“You guys seen Knox?”

Shiva glanced at Staci. “Come to think of it…I haven’t seen him since we’ve been here. And we got here three days ago with the others.”

Staci tried to keep herself from frowning. “I think he’s been avoiding me for some reason, but…I haven’t seen him.”

Bandjough snorted. “Why would he want to avoid you? Is he crazy or something?”

Shiva scowled at him. When the scowl didn’t work, he cleared his throat. “Don’t you have somewhere to go?”

The rookie pilot nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, I’m going. Later, Fury. Bye, Doc.” He left them, eager to get to the Storm Breaker and take off. He knew LeBeau would be going through a pre-flight check but he hoped to get up there before he had it completed.

Shiva turned to Staci. “Look, I’m gonna try to find Knox. You go ahead. I’ll see you there.”

Staci nodded.

“And, Doc…”

“Yeah?”

Shiva hesitated. “Look, I don’t think Knox is trying to avoid you. Why would you think he was?”

Staci shrugged. “It isn’t important, Marc.”

“Are you sure? You…seem like it’s bothering you.”

She turned her head and smiled wryly. “Marc, I really can’t afford to be bothered by silly things like this now, can I? There’s far more important things to think about and besides…I’ve got Jesus, so I don’t need anyone else. You know what I mean?”

He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah…but, uhm…No. I’m not sure what you mean.”

She was glad he didn’t. She wasn’t sure she even knew what she meant. Why was it that there were men who had some strange effect on her, even during a crisis? It wasn’t like she knew Michael Lenox anyway. As far as she was concerned, there should be no attraction for him. “Good,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

Leaving Shiva confused Staci headed for the stairwell. She took out her flashlight from her bag and shone it in front of her as she walked into the darkened stairwell. The battery-operated lights had stopped working two days ago. As she tried to keep her head cleared she realized she must have been more exhausted than she had thought. Now she couldn’t get Lenox out of her mind.

He had been avoiding her.

She had tried several times to approach him, but each time she did he made some excuse and went off to only God knew where. She hadn’t even been able to engage in any real conversation with him so it just wasn’t possible she was developing any type of feelings for him.

I am tired, she thought. That must be it.

“God, help me, please,” she prayed softly. “I don’t think there’s time for a relationship with anyone right now anyway. Besides…all I really know about Michael Lenox is he is a womanizer and lost. He needs You…so please help him see You the way I do. Thank You, God. Amen.”

A few moments later, she found her way to Fuller’s office where she found not only Fuller waiting for her, but Barrington as well. They stopped their conversation when she entered through the open doorway. She suddenly felt guilty interrupting them.

“I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly. “I…I was told you needed to see me.”

Fuller reached for the lantern on his desk and raised it above his head so he could get a closer look at her. “I’m sorry, Staci. You must be tired. You have to rest.”

She waved a hand at him dismissively. “No…I’m fine.” She looked from Barrington, then back to Fuller and tried not to look as tired as she felt. “What did you need?”

The two men exchanged glances.

“Come on…Don’t do that. Just tell me.”

Barrington turned to face her. “We need you to come with me…to Maine.”

She blinked. “Maine?” She tried to let it sink in. “Maine…? But…how? And why do you want to get to Maine?” She peered at Fuller. “Darren, I’m needed here. There are injured and sick people who need help.”

“I know someone else who may need your help,” Fuller told her seriously, looking right into her eyes, “and I can’t trust anyone to help him but you.”

Staci was stunned by his commendation. When she was able to speak again, she said, “Who is it?”

Fuller didn’t hesitate. “President Walter J. Ballou.”

She couldn’t believe what she heard. That and everything else she had gone through for the past several days finally caught up with her. Staci collapsed onto the floor and lost consciousness.

Rage.

That was all Michael Lenox felt.

The great eagle had fallen and he wanted to know why. Until he had that answer he so desperately sought for, he would do what was necessary to protect what was left of his pride. Of his country.

He stood on the rooftop of the apartment complex Barrington lived in. As it turned out, Barrington’s neighbor was none other than Dr. Staci Cohen. Another surprising discovery about her was she had been the younger sister to Nichole Parkhurst, who had worked as Director Fuller’s personal assistant. Nichole was said to have been one of the vanishing, but to Lenox, the story was unclear. Staci couldn’t confirm her sister vanished because she hadn’t been there to see it happen. Yet she insisted it was true.

Lenox took a deep breath.

He was missing something.

He searched the area surrounding him for any sign of a clue he thought he was missing. What was he missing? What really happened here on this rooftop a few days ago? He didn’t know, but he suspected Barrington wasn’t telling him everything.

“Strange place to meet, brother.”

Lenox wasn’t surprised to hear the voice coming from behind him. He had not only heard the man come out onto the roof, he had also been expecting him. He didn’t turn around but remained where he was, still searching the area in front of him. He was looking at the surface near to where the ladder of the fire escape led to the landing below the rooftop. That was where Barrington was when he had come out onto the roof. Barrington had been helping Staci up.

Staci, however, had looked down.

She had looked down as if she was looking for something…or maybe at someone. But who?

“Glad you showed up,” Lenox replied.

One of Albany’s finest stepped up beside him, joining him. Randy Groh looked around, trying to determine what the ATD agent was looking for. “You mentioned you might need help with a problem.” He paused. “What kind of problem are you talking about?”

“A loose end kind of problem.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lenox turned his head to regard him. “I don’t like loose ends. They give me a belly ache and I’ve got one now.”

Groh paused. “Gotta be Maalox somewhere around here, I‘m sure. Don‘t you have a friend who lives here? Knock on his door. Maybe he‘s got a bottle.”

The ATD agent slowly approached the edge so he could look down at the fire escape landing on the side of the building. It was approximately nine or ten feet below him. Staci had been lucky not to have hurt herself falling onto it. Then, there was that nagging question. Had someone been there with her to help in taking the full impact of the fall onto that landing?

“Okay. Maalox is out,” Groh commented with a shrug. “You still haven’t told me what you’re looking for.”

“I haven’t worked everything out yet,” Lenox finally said as he straightened and turned to face him. “Something is going on with my partner, and I want to know what it is. I need to know what he’s up to.”

The police officer paused to consider what he was being told. “You think he’s on the take or something like that?”

“I don’t know. He’s been acting crazy lately. Ever since these strange disappearances have happened, his behavior has been out of whack.” He looked around again. “I suspect he was up here with someone other than the doctor, and I just want to know who that was.”

“Well…I can’t do much to help out. I’m just one guy.”

Lenox regarded him. “What about Yorke? Can he help you?”

Groh sighed. “I’ll ask him, brother, but…I have no idea what you expect us to do. I mean, look around. There’s a lot of problems going on down there and not enough manpower to help.”

“This could be important.”

“How important?”

Lenox paused. “It could lead us to one of the men responsible for the attacks.”

Groh glared at him. He thought carefully about what he was being told. “Well, now, brother…that is an altogether whole different ball game. And what does your partner have to do with this?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Is he in on it?”

Lenox shook his head. “No. He’s not in on the attack! I don’t want you going after him.”

“You’re telling me your friend has some kind of connection with a man who may have been deeply involved in the attacks here last weekend! How can I believe he isn’t involved?”

“Albert Barrington is not involved with these attacks. I suspect he knows someone who may be. I don’t know what the motivation is behind my friend’s actions, but I’ll deal with him. You won’t.”

“What were you going to ask me to do?”

“I want you to watch this place. See who comes and goes. And if you do see someone suspicious, don’t do anything until you contact me.”

Groh paused. “Like I said…I can’t take all my time to help out, but with Yorke’s help, we could work something out.” He looked at Lenox. “With cell phones out and no way to contact you, how are we supposed to let you know anything? Would sending smoke rings into the air do? I’m sure we could light a campfire up here on the roof.”

Lenox once more surveyed the area around them. He saw a ventilation unit and moved toward it. Examining it, he discovered he could easily pry the covering on it a few inches apart and stick his hand inside. He showed Groh. “Put a note or something in here. Make sure it doesn’t fall out of reach or I’ll never know you left one.”

Groh frowned. “Sure. How long we gonna do this?”

“As long as it takes.”

“Yeah? Well, just so you know…I’ll go along with you for now, but I can’t promise I’ll pass an opportunity by when it comes to taking any man down who played a part in the attack.”

Lenox glared at him. “I’m looking for someone to trust, Randy. Can I trust you?”

Groh nodded. “You can. The temptation will be hard to ignore. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, resist it. Let’s get our facts before we make a move, but when we do…we’ll both see that justice is done.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Lenox nodded to him. Then, he turned and left Groh alone on the rooftop with his thoughts.

“She fainted?” Fuller inquired as he and Barrington both looked down at her, concern evident on their faces.

She lay on the sofa in his office. With her eyes closed and her breathing steady, Staci looked peacefully content.

Barrington sighed. “No…I think she’s just exhausted. Tired.” He straightened as he turned to regard the Director. “But I suppose we’re all tired. There doesn’t seem to be an end to this nightmare.”

Fuller nodded his head with certainty. “Oh, there’s an end, Al. It may not be a good end for us while on this earth, but where you and I end up will be better than we’ve ever imagined.” He tenderly wiped at Staci’s forehead with a damp cloth. He shook his head, brow furrowed with worry for her. “She’s burning up, Al. I don’t like this.”

“Let her sleep it off.”

“I was hoping to see you guys off within minutes of our meeting.”

“Will it hurt anything if we leave in the morning?”

Fuller pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I suppose it won’t. You’re probably right. You should all get some sleep before you go.” He paused. “I’m just worried about the President.”

“We’ll find him.”

He nodded but fell silent as he looked down at Staci.

Barrington sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and shook his head. “Todd…” He didn’t make it a habit to call the Director by his middle name, but when they were alone and not discussing mission directives he treated him like a friend. Now they were more than friends. They were like brothers. “Can you see a resemblance?”

Fuller knew whom he was referring to. He smiled. “Yeah…There’s some there. Her hair is different, her eyes are green, not brown…but there is a likeness. Some of her mannerisms even remind me of Nichole.”

Barrington grinned. Then, he let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“Knox is gonna throw a fit when he finds out she’s going with us tomorrow.”

“Let him. He throws lots of fits lately. I really need to sit down and have a long talk with that stubborn mule, but now is not the time.” When he was satisfied Staci was alright, he moved to sit behind his desk. He lowered his voice, not because he didn’t want Staci to overhear him, but because he didn’t want to disturb her rest. “I feel kind of awkward…Like we’re trying not to interrupt class while whispering secrets back and forth.”

Barrington nodded. “But you’ve got something on your mind, so spill.”

“I’ve got more than I’d care to have on my mind, Al.” He paused. “While you’re on your mission in Maine, I’ll be on one here.”

“Really? What mission?”

“I’m going up to your apartment to see Darwyn Musad.”

Barrington paused. “I kind of figured you’d get around to that.”

“You’re sure he’s on the level?”

He nodded. “I don’t think he’d throw everything he once believed in away like he did if he wasn’t. He saved Doc’s life. Those two men on the rooftop were there to kill her like they killed the woman in her apartment. If it wasn’t for Darwyn, they would have succeeded.”

Fuller glanced at Staci. “She got lucky then, didn’t she?”

“If God sent Darwyn to her, luck didn’t have a thing to do with it.”

“Amen to that.” Fuller let out a weary sigh as he ran his hands through his hair. “I feel awful. I don’t imagine she thought life would be like this when she was in medical school. I worry about her going on a mission, especially when she isn’t a field agent. In fact, she isn’t an agent at all.”

“She’s a medical doctor. If the President is alive and needs help, she can help him. You’ve said that yourself, and maybe this is what God is leading her to do.”

“We can’t make that decision for her. I told her why I needed her. I just didn’t give her a chance to decline.”

“No. She passed out before that came up.” Barrington nodded thoughtfully. “Something tells me she’ll go with us. Besides, I won’t let anything happen to her and neither will Knox. He won’t like it that she’s going but she’ll be safe with him. You know that.”

Fuller nodded. “Yeah.” He regarded Barrington for a moment. “Yeah. I know Michael will do right on this mission. He’s pig-headed and stubborn, but he always does what needs to be done. That’s what has me worried.”

“What do you mean?”

“Man has a nasty habit of doing what man thinks is right and not what God knows is right. You and I are new believers, Al. We’ll probably have to learn the hard way when to do what we’re supposed to do according to God’s laws, but Michael isn’t a believer. He’ll do what he thinks is the best option without giving God’s laws any consideration. If we don’t get him to see it the way God does, we may lose him forever.”

Barrington nodded slowly. “I’ve had the same thoughts.”

“Have you had a chance to study much about what is next in God’s timeline?”

“Not much. Kate’s Bible, though, has a lot of her notes in the margins. There’s going to be the rise of the Antichrist, and…and I think there’s something in there about hailstones.” He shrugged helplessly. “I wish I had time to study it.”

“Why don’t you get your wife’s Bible and we’ll both look into it.”

Barrington rose to his feet, nodding. “Alright. Yeah, I’ll go get it and be right back.”

“If you see Michael, tell him to catch some sleep before the mission tomorrow.”

“I’d better let Ace and Rookie know. Knowing them, they’ve got the blades turning and are hovering anxiously above the rooftop, expecting us to make a jump for it.” Barrington left the office, taking his flashlight with him. He turned it on and entered into the darkened stairwell. As he entered, he walked right into someone who screamed.

Erin Greye was as pale as a ghost. As her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, she fell back against the wall. The flashlight she had been carrying rolled on the floor and then down the steps she had been walking up. “Oh, Lord…” She took a deep breath. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry, Erin.” Barrington regarded her with concern. “Are you okay?”

She hesitated. “Yes.” She blinked. “No.” She rubbed at her eyes with a shaking hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m tired…I’m still scared. I-I jump at everything.” She swallowed. “I don’t know how much good I’m going to be, Al. How can I be expected to do the job Nichole did? I can’t be her. I can’t even see well enough…Everything’s a blur.”

“You can’t see?”

“I lost my glasses.” She blinked at him. “Somewhere. I…don’t know where. I just lost them.”

Barrington frowned. “I’m sorry. Hey, go see Crazy Man. He’s got a box of glasses in his lair. Maybe there’s a pair that will help you.”

“Yeah…Okay, I’ll find him.”

“Erin…it’s going to be okay.”

She looked up at him, puzzled. “How is it going to be okay?” she whispered, trembling. “We’ve been left behind and the worst is yet to come.” Unexpectedly, she shouted, “And I can’t see without my glasses!”

He put a hand on her shoulder, attempting to reassure her. “You need to rest, that’s all. We’re all tired.”

A sob caught in her throat. “I-I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough. I just can’t…” She began to cry. Embarrassed, she tried to turn away from him.

Barrington took her in his arms and held her close. He kept his own emotional turmoil back as his heart ached for her pain. With his arms around her, she wept on his chest. They stayed like that for a time.

It was what Erin needed. It had helped her let some of the anguish she had been feeling out. It was enough to gain some of her equilibrium. She put her hands on his chest and gently pushed at him. “I’m okay,” she grumbled.

He stepped back, watching her. “Are you sure?”

She straightened, brushed at her eyes, and nodded. “Yes. I…just needed to get that out. Thank you.” She looked at him. “I’m ready for the mission.”

He paused. “Mission?”

She nodded. “Yes. Didn’t you know? I’m going to Maine with you.”

“Oh…No, I didn’t know.”

“Well, I guess you know now.” She cleared her throat nervously. “Guess I’d better find a pair of glasses so I can see what I’m doing. Can’t leave without them.”

Barrington glanced down the stairs where her flashlight had fallen. He handed her his. “Take this. I’m heading downstairs so I’ll take yours.”

She took it from him. “Thank you. Uhm…For the hug, too. I needed that.”

He smiled at her. “Sure. Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded. “Yes.” Then, she said, “Why are you going downstairs? Aren’t we expected to leave soon?”

“We’re leaving in the morning, so…find a quiet corner and catch some sleep. I’ve got to go find Knox.” He started to head downstairs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, I hope you don’t mind the flashlight.”

Puzzled, he looked up at her from the lower steps. “Why wouldn’t I mind it?”

“My flashlight is pink. I don’t know how you would feel moving around in the dark with a pink flashlight.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t hurt my pride and I’ll get it back to you in the morning.”

“Okay.” She returned his smile. “See you in the morning.”

Barrington continued downstairs to the next landing where he found Erin’s pink flashlight. He picked it up. Then, he couldn’t help it. He laughed.

Youmud Musad wanted to believe the attack had been a success. Many Americans had been killed during it and fear had been struck into their hearts. They now cowered in shelters and clustered together in packs like wild animals searching for a place to nest. They kept out of the streets for the most part, except for the National Guard and the police who patrolled without ceasing.

They were trying to maintain order. In some areas, this was being accomplished, but in other areas pockets of violence were breaking out. Those Americans who were not in any shelters and were known as hoodlums amongst the proper authorities were taking advantage of the power outage. They were working as teams. Some caused distractions while others looted specific targets. Some groups attacked the innocent and wreaked havoc just for sport.

That made Youmud’s heart feel gladdened.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not as much damage as he had hoped for had been accomplished. The American agency called the Anti-Terrorist Division had led a successful charge and taken out the cell he had been a part of for many years. It was a cell he, his older brother and his father had led for several years. In that cell, they had methodically planned the fall of the United States of America. Their plan coincided with many other cells throughout America and was meant to go into affect at an appointed time.

It was all planned and timed just right.

It was working so well.

Youmud glared across West Avenue from the shadows. He was glaring with hatred in his eyes at the apartment complex his older brother now cowered in. It was the fault of his older brother that their cell had failed. He wanted to kill him. He had wanted to kill him for even longer than that, yet when he saw Darwyn fall to his knees and saw him beg to the infidel’s God to save him an even greater hatred for him festered in his heart.

Youmud wanted desperately to kill his brother.

He crossed the street and easily entered the building. He went into the stairwell and made his way up in the darkness until he felt his way to the fifth floor landing. There he waited until he was satisfied no one was around. He couldn’t see anyone in the dark and as he strained to listen for any telltale sounds, he couldn’t hear anyone either.

Was someone there?

Youmud stood still and remained silent a moment longer. He raised his head and looked up, though all he could see was darkness. He really had no way of telling if someone were there or not. Anyone could be there as well as not be. One of the agents could be or perhaps that traitorous jackal, James Bollinger. Youmud cared not if anyone was. If he was discovered, he would fight to the death. If he wasn’t, he would continue to be the scourge against America right unto the end.

Deciding he had spent enough time listening to the darkness, he stepped out into the hallway, exiting from the stairwell. The hallway was empty and he was glad. Knowing where he was going he headed for the apartment with determination. He went to door number 55 and without hesitation knocked loudly.

Unknown to him, Groh watched him from the window of the door to the stairwell. The police officer had been standing on the stairs when the terrorist had arrived. It took all he could do not to draw his weapon and kill the man right then and there. But Groh disciplined himself and waited. Now he watched from the darkness as Youmud pounded on the door to number 55. It was to the apartment Albert Barrington lived in.

Groh didn’t know anything about Barrington. Lenox seemed to be on the level, a man dedicated to fighting against terrorism. Groh had fought with the agent out in the streets during the attack. The one thing that bothered him the most was the lack of movement from Barrington during the attack. Barrington never seemed to so much as raise his weapon. In fact, Groh didn’t recall the man ever firing his weapon. He heard that Barrington shot and killed two terrorists on the rooftop, yet did anyone really see it happen?

In his mind, there were too many unanswered questions.

Barrington didn’t seem the type who was willing to fight for his country. That was what Groh had seen of him, so he was forced to come to his own conclusions. Now there was a terrorist knocking on his door.

Groh wanted to take action, but as angry as he was, he cautioned himself. Lenox was right in one thing. He had to get the facts before he took any action. So he willed himself to wait and to watch.

Youmud pounded on the door a third time. “I know you’re in there!” he exclaimed. “You will open this door, brother!” He spat the word “brother” as if it were a curse word.

The door opened and Darwyn Musad stood there. He stood tall and unafraid as he regarded his younger brother. “Have you come to kill me, brother?”

“Spilling your blood would bring me great joy,” Youmud told him, “but it can wait. I must talk to you.”

Darwyn stepped aside. “Come in.”

Youmud glared for a moment. Then he finally stepped into the apartment, allowing his older brother to close the door.

From his hiding place, Groh fought to control the urge to bust into the apartment with his weapons firing.

Darwyn Musad allowed his younger brother to enter into the apartment. He closed the door and followed Youmud into the living room where enough candles were lit to see by. Darwyn stopped in the doorway of the room and simply stood there watching his brother. He decided it was best to let him make the first move. If the man had come to kill him, then so be it. However, Darwyn didn’t believe that was Youmud’s motive for the visit.

Youmud walked into the living room and looked around. His eyes took in everything. The candles. The furniture. The doilies on the furniture. The knick knacks. The framed family photographs on the walls and on the stands. He scowled with disdain as he kept his back to his brother.

Finally, he could take no more. “This place reeks of paganism!”

Darwyn remained where he was. “It is not Christians who are pagans, my brother.”

Youmud turned his head and glared at him. “So…you denounce Allah.”

“I proclaim Jesus Christ.”

The younger man scowled hard and restrained himself from attacking. “Do you not remember the words spoken by Muhammad?! ‘Who relinquishes his faith, kill him. I have been ordered by Allah to fight with people 'till they testify there is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is his messenger.’ You have just declared yourself as my enemy!”

Darwyn looked at him sadly. “Our father has taught you well.”

“And our mother has doomed your soul.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know what you speak of.”

“Don’t I?” Youmud turned fully about and brought himself to stand in front of his brother. “Our mother tried to convert you. Father warned me of this and it was his concern her words to you might have pierced your heart. He ordered me to watch you…to see if you would fall. He was right in that. You were weakened by her words. Father was certain if he had made you watch her execution you would become strong.” He pursed his lips. “Yet he was wrong in that, wasn’t he?”

“It is you who are wrong. We were wrong. I have witnessed the truth in my heart, and-”

“The Quran says to ‘fight and slay the Pagans wherever you find them’!1” Youmud vehemently interrupted. “You are a pagan! You’ll be slaughtered, I promise you this and it shall be by my hand. Your new friends will also be murdered. The doctor whom you’ve protected…the Jewish swine you saved will suffer the most. I’ll personally see to that! She will suffer like Father made our mother suffer because of what you did.”

“You’ll not harm her.”

Youmud shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a fool to think I won’t honor my promise to you.”

“I know you intend to but you’ll fail.”

“Are you going to kill me then? Because that will be the only way you can stop me.” He stood up straight, puffed out his chest and spread his arms wide. “Go ahead, brother! Kill me. Kill me here and now.”

Darwyn just looked at him.

Youmud slapped him hard across the face. “Why won’t you kill me? I intend great harm to the ones you’ve turned to rather than your own flesh and blood.”

Darwyn’s head was pushed to the left from the force of the blow. However, he straightened and looked his brother in the eyes. “If you’ve come to kill me, do it. If you think I’ll turn the other cheek, think again.”

“I haven’t come here to kill you…yet. That day will come, I assure you. I just wanted to see your face one last time before I do anything to exact my revenge upon you. You’ve taken our father’s name and disgraced it.”

“Have you seen enough then?”

Youmud paused. Finally, he nodded. “I have.” He headed for the front door. As he opened it, he stopped and turned to regard his brother. “Our day has come…but you will not share in our victory. You have chosen to turn from the true faith and have accepted to follow a false god.”

Darwyn sadly shook his head. “It’s you, brother, who follow after false teachings. Who is Allah but a god whom no one truly knows? Can we even say if we know whether Allah loves us or not?” He shrugged. “I’ve heard it asked of us many times…even answered in the same way. ‘I don’t know how much he loves me. Only Allah knows.’ Yet if you’ll turn to the scriptures, you will come to discover a God who truly loves us. ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’2 And more scripture tells us that ‘God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.’3 Is Allah any of these things?” Again, he shook his head. “No. Allah is not love because Allah is not God. Do you not see that it’s because of our hatred, which blinds us from the truth? Don’t you want a personal relationship with a God who truly loves you than with a god who cannot be known? Allah is not interested in loving us, but the one true God says to ‘Call unto Me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not.’4 Please, brother, do not harden your heart to the truth.”

Youmud glared at him. “I know the truth. You know a lie. Besides…” A cruel smile began to appear on his face. “I have seen the truth. I have seen…him.”

Darwyn frowned. “You’ve seen who?”

The younger man paused for affect. “Mahdi.”

“Where did you see Mahdi?”

“Why do you care where I’ve seen him? Shouldn’t it be enough that I did and you didn’t? Father has taken me to see him. He’s shared with me more than you could ever know because he feared he would lose you. He confided in me, brother, behind your back.”

“Who is this Mahdi, Youmud?”

“He is the divinely guided one. I’ve heard him speak and believe he is the one who will change everything for everyone.” He paused. “When he comes into power, he will not tolerate Christians or Jews. Nor will he tolerate those who have turned from the faith.”

Darwyn considered his words. “This man of whom you speak…I implore you not to be swayed by his deceit.”

“I am not the one who is swayed. You are.” He turned to leave. “You are no longer my brother. You are dead to me.”

He slammed the door shut as he left.

Darwyn stared at the door and felt as if he had lost a brother.

1 Surah 9:5
2 John 3:16
3 I John 4:16
4 Jeremiah 33:3

With the sun rising in the east, Moore headed down Route 7 in his rusty old Ford. All through Knox County, he saw life stirring as it usually did, although there was a feeling of anxiety in the air. He could feel it in his bones and it made his body ache. He knew more than what occurred than most folk did, at least in this part of Maine. People had power here, but where did that power end?

He knew he was going to find out.

He saw people watching him as he continued to drive north. Some of them seemed to shake their heads as if he were mad to be heading in that direction. It would have been safer to stay where he had been. In his home, locked up with a shotgun on his lap and ready to blast any intruder into eternity should they dare to break in. Unfortunately, Moore had a mission to see to whether he wanted it or not. Some things came to certain men for them to do. He didn’t know if it was God who brought them about or fate. All he did know was at the particular time, it fell upon him to do it.

And he didn’t want to.

When he got to Waldo County using Route 7, he began to see a change. A few vehicles were parked in the road. At first, he thought it was odd. It was like whoever had been driving them just stopped in the middle of the road. When he drove around the vehicles, he saw no one inside them. He wondered what caused people to stop their cars and leave them. There was a police car further ahead. It was off the road and smashed up against a telephone pole.

Concerned, Moore pulled to the side of the road and put the Ford into park. He let the truck idle as he slowly exited from the drivers side. He pulled out his shotgun with him. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The times were evil and he decided not to take any chances.

Looking around, there seemed to be no sign of any movement. There were no cars coming, nor any people walking around. He would have thought the people who owned the vehicles in the road would be around but then again, maybe they simply took off. Maybe they were searching for some kind of refuge. After all, if he had been told the truth about what had occurred, then he wanted to find a safe hole in the ground to hide in, too.

There wasn’t a single building in sight from where he stood, although that wasn’t uncommon on Route 7. Anyone could travel along the route for several miles before coming to any gas stations or a little town. Moore’s plan was to take the road all the way to Piscataquis County until he arrived at the River Reservoir. It was where he had to get to in order to deliver the message given to him by a dead man.

He believed he was looking at another dead man. From where he stood, he thought he saw someone hunched over the steering wheel of the police car. Slowly, he made his way over to the vehicle. He realized for the damage done to the front of the car into the pole, the officer must have been going at a high speed. The pole almost appeared to be coming through the engine. Moore expected to find a dead man behind the wheel, yet when he got to the side of the vehicle he discovered it to be empty.

Moore got closer and peered inside the police car. He was surprised to find clothes in the front seat behind the steering wheel. On the floor was a pair of black shoes.

“Hmm,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I believe there might be a naked lawman running around here. People sure are strange. Hmm.”

He took another look around as he headed back toward his truck. He climbed into it and continued on his way. As he was going through Penobscot County, he saw a group of people standing around the entrance to a gas station. When they saw him coming, they scattered and ducked out of sight. He kept his foot on the accelerator and didn’t slow down at all. The gas station’s windows had been broken up and from what he could see within was a mess. The place had to have been looted.

As he put the gas station behind him, he checked in the rear view mirror. Two of the people he saw before he passed it came out of hiding to stand in the middle of the road, watching him drive away. He didn’t like that. A sense of foreboding came over him and he began to watch the road ahead of him, looking to see if there were any signs of movement anywhere. Even when the gas station was several miles behind and completely out of sight, he refused to drop his guard.

He kept checking his rear view mirror, making certain he wasn’t being followed. He hadn’t seen any other vehicles moving on the road since he left Knox County but that didn’t mean he was the only one who had a working vehicle. There could be others able to get around. If he ran into anyone, he was hoping they would be friendly.

A bend in the road was coming up directly ahead of him. As he approached it, he glanced once more in his rear view mirror. He squinted…certain he saw movement on the road behind him. He began to move the truck around the bend and suddenly slammed on the brakes.

The truck screeched on the pavement, burning rubber as Moore fought to keep control of his truck. He was attempting to avoid the vehicles in the road directly ahead of him but was going too fast. He pressed on the brake as hard as he could and tried to turn the wheel. It was no use. The truck slammed into a dark blue van even as Moore yanked the steering wheel to the left. The force of the crash bounced Moore against the wheel and it pushed the air right out of his lungs.

Trying to suck in a breath, Moore fumbled for the door and pushed it open. He tried to get out of the truck so he could stand and catch his breath. For some reason, he couldn’t breathe. He stumbled against the truck with his back to it and that’s when he saw them.

There were four of them.

They were coming out of the woods, men who looked desperate. One of them held a baseball bat and seemed ready to use it. The others appeared to be ready for anything, too, yet they were watching Moore as if they expected he wouldn’t be any trouble to them. As he continued to try to gasp for air, they moved toward him.

“Easy, fellow,” one of them said, “we just want your truck.”

And I just want to breathe! Moore thought desperately as he sank to his knees beside his truck. His ribs were in pain due to the steering wheel. He reached up and put his hand inside the truck, reaching for the shotgun.

The approaching men assumed he was trying to get back up.

Finally, Moore was able to gasp for air and as he did, he pulled out the shotgun and leveled it toward the nearest man. Taking in air was just what he needed because it was sweet relief. Unfortunately, it strengthened the pain in his ribs. He was certain he must have cracked two of them. Possibly more.

He shook his head. “I will cut you down…if you take one more step.”

The four men stopped.

The one who had spoken glanced back at those with him. “We just want your truck,” he said again.

Moore noticed the vehicles for the first time. There was a dark blue van, a purple volkswagon beetle and a grey buick all out in the middle of the road. Anyone who had a working vehicle driving north would not be able to avoid them. He realized they had been purposefully pushed there to cause the blockade.

“You boys planned this for my truck,” Moore replied. He wasn’t asking a question.

“We just want your truck,” the man said a third time.

The man with the baseball bat glared at Moore menacingly. “You can’t shoot all of us! Go ahead! You pull the trigger, whoever isn’t down will get to you. You’ll wish you were never born.”

Moore regarded the men before him. He thought of what he had recently discovered and about his past, realizing that these foolish young men had no idea what they were doing. He had to get to Piscataquis River Reservoir and he wouldn‘t let them stop him if he could do something about it. “I’m getting into my truck…now that I caught my breath and I’m driving away. Go ahead and stop me if you think you’re manly men. I’ll shoot you down if I have to and run over the rest of you if you don’t back away.”

Something struck the front of his truck, cracking the windshield and sliding across to fall on the road. It startled Moore, causing him to back away from his truck as he anticipated an attack from behind. He saw two more men coming out of the woods from the other side of Route 7. One of them had tossed a good-sized rock and it had made spider web patterns on his windshield. The two men had more rocks and were preparing to throw them.

Movement out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. He turned around and saw the baseball bat swinging toward his head. He didn’t have time to level the shotgun and fire it, so he did the next best thing. He used the shotgun to shield himself from the blow. The baseball bat struck the shotgun Moore was holding up in front of himself. The older man could feel the shock of the blow in his arms, yet he wouldn’t be deterred for fighting to save his own life and carry on with his mission.

The younger man raised the bat over his head, attempting to club Moore directly over his head. Unfortunately for him, Moore proved to be faster. The ex-Marine shoved the butt end of the shotgun into his opponents stomach. The air was pushed right out of the man’s lungs and his eyes widened in shock. He staggered back, dropping the bat.

Moore looked past him and saw another man charging him. Three of the other men had already used the time their friend gave them to take his truck. All three were inside the truck. The man behind the wheel was beginning to back it up.

“Come on!” he shouted out the window.

Moore wanted to shoot at them, but the man who charged at him was trying to take the weapon away from him. Moore twisted the shotgun and pushed him back, trying to make him let go. He had to do it fast because the other man had caught his breath and was reaching for the bat.

“I don’t have time for this,” Moore grumbled. So he head-butted the young man who wouldn’t let go of his shotgun.

The youngster cried out and backed away, holding his nose, which was now bleeding. “You broke my nose!” he cried.

“Come on, guys!” the driver shouted, having turned the truck around. “Let’s get out of here!”

The youngster with the broken nose turned and ran for the truck. He pulled himself up and over, dropping into the back. “Come on, Ross!” he shouted.

Ross stood there glaring angrily at Moore. It was clear he wanted to club Moore to death, yet this time he stayed back because the shotgun was pointed right at his face. It was mere inches away. Looking down the barrel of a shotgun took on a whole new meaning for Ross as his glare slowly began to show fear in his eyes. He blinked, finally meeting Moore’s own glare.

The look in Moore’s eyes said it all. He wasn’t a man who would hesitate to fire if he had to. “I want my truck back.”

Ross didn’t say a word.

“You boys managed to hoodwink a brother, so I’ll give you that, but I want my truck back or you’ll get to go to the great by and by.”

Ross still kept silent.

“Come on, Ross!” the young man in the back of the truck shouted. “Just go for it. He won’t shoot you! If he does, I‘ll shoot him.”

Moore glanced toward the truck and realized the man had a pistol pointed toward him. “That pea-shooter don’t change a thing.”

Ross took that moment to chance it. He turned and made a run for the truck. He got to it and began to pull himself up, even as the driver began to press the accelerator. The young man with the gun straightened his arm and made a face.

Moore realized what was happening. The man was going to pull the trigger. Not taking any chances, it only took him a split second to level his shotgun and fire. The young man with the gun fell back into the truck and out of sight just as Ross also disappeared from view. The truck sped down the road and disappeared around the bend Moore had come from earlier.

Silence descended upon him.

He was standing there with his shotgun. His mind played back what had just happened and he didn’t know if he had killed the young man or not. He hoped he hadn’t. Maybe he should have just given over the truck without a fight.

It was too late.

If he had hit the man and killed him, that would just be one more death on his account. Moore wasn’t certain he could live with any more deaths by his hands.

It was the early rising of the sun through his window which finally broke William Fronk’s attention away from his newly constructed computer. He had been at work on it since the vanishings and the attacks. The computer he named Portals was now fully functional. He believed he had it up and running to his satisfaction. With the power coming from the generators within the building, he could run any program he installed. He just couldn’t get online.

At least not until he was in line with a satellite.

Once he established that link with a working satellite, he would be able to get online to see what the rest of the world was doing. Unfortunately, it was a long game of waiting for him and he hated to play that game. Waiting played tricks on him.

For example, during the night, he thought someone had knocked on his door. Now with the sun beginning to rise, that knock was just registering in his mind. He went over to the door and opened it, but there was no one there.

He came out of his office and yelled, “Helloooooooooo!”

Those working in the ATD center were mostly startled by this. Erin was one of those startled. Moving away from her desk, she slowly approached Fronk. “Hello,” she said.

Fronk blinked at her. “Did you knock on my door?”

“Yes, I did…several hours ago.” She regarded him. “You didn’t answer.”

“Sure, I did.”

“No…you didn’t.”

He paused. “Aren’t I answering now?”

Erin hesitated. “Yes…but I knocked last night and you didn’t then. You must have been sleeping.”

Fronk paused as he looked at her through his thick glasses. As if coming up with a theory, he suddenly reached up and pinched himself on the left arm. “Oww!” he exclaimed. Then, he frowned. “Well, I’m not sleeping now.” Without hesitation, he leaned toward her and pinched her on the left arm.

She pulled away. “Ow! Why’d you do that?”

“To prove a theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you aren’t sleeping either. Now that we both know we’re wide awake, why did you knock on my door?”

Rubbing her arm, she tilted her head back and looked at him suspiciously. “I…Well, I lost my glasses and was told you have a collection of glasses. I thought maybe you could spare one for me.” She paused. “I mean…could I borrow a pair until I get new ones?”

He waved his hand in front of her face. “You can’t see?”

She took a step back. “I…I can’t read, if that’s what you mean. I’m far-sighted.” She took another step back. “Stop that. It's annoying.”

He stopped waving. “I, too, am far-sighted, but I see you as clear as a midnights summer.”

She paused. “Uhm…thank you…I think.”

He stepped aside and waved a hand toward his office. “Step inside and I’ll find a pair that best suits you.”

She hesitated. “Thank you, Bill.”

“You’re welcome…Erin.” He followed her into his office and closed the door. He gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.”

She sat down, glancing around at the clutter in his office. Computer books and magazines were every where she looked. She was amazed at his computer and found herself peering curiously at the wallpaper on the monitor. It was of the USS Minnow beached on the island with the seven stranded cast members of Gilligan’s Island. Their faces, however, were blurred because she couldn’t see them well enough. She wasn’t too familiar with the show anyway and wouldn’t have recognized them if she had seen them clearly.

Fronk went to his closet and began to rummage around in it, searching for his collection of glasses. Finding them, he came out and set a large, heavy storage box onto the desk in front of where she was sitting. He took out his wallet from his back pocket and then extracted a key from it. Putting his wallet back, he opened the storage box after he used the key to unlock it.

Erin looked at him, puzzled. “You collect glasses…and keep them locked in a box?”

He shrugged helplessly. “It’s…what I do.” He waved toward it. “Take a look. Take what you need.”

She moved her chair closer to the desk and leaned over the box for a better look. There were many glasses within the box. Some were in cases. Some were not. She began to look through them. She really couldn’t help it. It was strange to her that someone would actually collect eyeglasses and keep them in a box.

She turned her head to squint at him. “You…you lock them up. Glasses. You…you don’t find that the least bit weird?”

Fronk nodded his head and winked at her. “That’s just it. I do find it weird.”

Erin shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

He nodded again. “I know.”

She regarded him. “But…it makes you weird.”

“Exactly!”

She took a deep breath and decided she was better off thanking the Lord for providing her with glasses. She tried many of them on, yet some were too blurry and others made it seem as if the room were spinning around her. She found a pair of pink, star-rimmed glasses and showed them to Fronk. “You’re kidding, right?” she inquired.

He shook his head. “Ah…no.”

“Would you care to explain why you have a pink pair like these?”

“Let me repeat myself. Ah…no.”

She couldn’t stop the grin, which began to spread on her face. “Okay, but I’ll find out the story behind them one of these days.”

“No, you won’t.”

“How do you know I won’t?”

“Because I buried everybody who knows the story. So give it up, my inquisitive one. Your boots may be for walking, but my lips are sealed forever.” He smiled at her. “Why don’t you try them on?”

She frowned and put them aside. “I think not.” She continued going through his collection. As she tried out more, she said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“I will let you ask two questions,” he replied as he sat behind his computer. “You have one left.” He smiled at her.

She returned the smile. “Thank you.” Her smile began to fade. “Are you in the habit of using humor to hide your fear or are you like this all the time?”

He waved a finger at her. “Tsk, tsk, tsk on you, young lady! That was really two questions within one. Shame on you for trying to pull the wool over my eyes. Nonetheless, I’ll answer your question.” He cleared his throat dramatically. “The answer is…yes.”

She glanced at him. “Yes.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes…to what? Yes, you use it to hide your fear or yes, you’re always like this?”

“Absolutely!”

She shook her head but smiled in spite of herself. “You’re crazy, Bill.”

“That’s what I’m called. Can you see me yet? Did you find a pair that highlights my fabulous features?”

She sighed. “I’m afraid not. Nothing in here helps.”

“Interesting. None of my earlier prescriptions work for you. I’ve also collected a few of them which were laying around. Still, something in there should have been able to help.” He spotted the glasses on the desk next to her and smiled. He pointed. “Did you try them on?”

She looked at them and then shuddered. “You don’t really think I’d be that desperate to wear those, do you?”

He nodded. “Oh, if you would like to see what you’re doing, I think you'll wear them. Besides, you're a star and those glasses simply scream out, ‘I’m Erin Greye and I’m a star!’” He gestured toward them. “Can’t you hear them calling out your name?”

Slowly Erin picked up the pink, star-rimmed glasses. “Oh, God…please help me.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“They probably won’t help.” She frowned. “At least, I hope they don’t.”

“Put them on, girlfriend!”

With a sigh of resignation, Erin closed her eyes and put on the glasses. She took a deep breath, composing herself. Then, she opened her eyes. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She could see clearly and the first thing she saw was Fronk grinning at her like a madman.

“Wow!” he exclaimed, tossing his hands up in the air. “You know…I really gotta say…” He put his hands on his knees and shook his head in wonder. “Yeah, those glasses are definitely, really you. Yep. You bet’cha. Uh huh. Really.”

She glared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Out of all of the glasses you have, this is the only one…the only pair that works for me?”

Fronk snorted. Then, he laughed. “You know, God really does have a sense of humor after all, don’t He?”

“I’ve got a meeting with the Director in a few minutes, Bill. I really can’t go with these on. At least I know I don‘t want to.” She took them off and held them. She turned her head and looked out the window. Finally, she turned and squinted at Fronk. “I…I guess it’s silly being worried about how I look when…when everything is so uncertain now.”

Fronk shrugged. “You’re still you, Erin.” He lowered his voice and pretended to be concentrating his attention on his keyboard. “Don’t ever change who you are and what God has given you because of tragedy. Just let it make you stronger.”

“I’m not that strong.”

He turned away from his computer and looked into her eyes. “You are.”

Puzzled by his conviction about her, she regarded him. “How can you know that?”

“’Because greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.’”1

“No!” she cried. “Let go of me! You can’t…you’re not supposed to be here! Let go!” She tried to reach up and dig her fingernails into his arms. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do it.

Her efforts, however, angered him and he tightened his grip on her. “Trying to get away from me, are you? Fine! If that’s what you want to do, then…Get away from me, you ungrateful wretch!”

With that, he shoved her far from him.

She fell and the floor beneath her suddenly disappeared. She found herself falling helplessly in a dark abyss. The man was gone. The room they had just been standing in was gone. Now there was nothing but darkness and falling. She screamed…

…And bolted right up on the sofa she had been lying on.

Staci took a deep breath, grasping onto the cushion beneath her as tight as she could until she realized she had been dreaming. She blinked. The sun was shining, bringing plenty of light into the office through the windows. She closed her eyes and turned her face toward it, realizing how good it felt to have the sun shining on her. She relaxed her breathing and her grip on the cushion and sat back on the sofa.

“It was a dream, Staci…” she replied softly. She ran her hands nervously through her hair. “Just a…stupid dream.”

“Are you okay?”

She looked up. Director Fuller was standing in the doorway watching her with concern. She smiled wryly. “Yes. I’m okay.” She pursed her lips. “Why do you ask? Did I…uhm, mumble in my sleep or something?”

He stepped into the room, placing a cup of coffee on the stand in front of where she sat. “No, you didn’t mumble. You screamed. In fact, you’re the second person who screamed this morning. From William I should be used to it by now. He‘s a nut case. From you…I become concerned.” He regarded her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine. Probably just…a-a dream, which I don’t really remember anyway.” She quickly picked up the coffee to take a sip in order to hide her lie. She then pulled the coffee away and fanned her hand before her lips. “Oww. It’s hot.”

“Staci…”

“No, really, I’m fine.” She put the coffee back onto the stand. “What, uhm…How long have I been sleeping?”

Fuller sat down in the chair opposite from her. “About nine hours. It’s almost seven o’ clock now.”

“Nine hours? Really?” She paused. “I’m…I’m really not used to sleeping that long.”

“Apparently, you needed it. I can’t blame you, Staci. It’s been a week since any of us had any real sleep.”

“How could you let me sleep so long? I could have helped somebody.”

“You collapsed.”

“I did? When?”

He hesitated. “You don’t remember?”

She frowned. “Well…I remember being with Marc. He was helping me in the shelter.”

“Then, what?”

“I came here, and…” She stopped. “I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember me saying something to you about President Ballou?”

She considered the question. “Wait…yes. I think so.”

“Well, that’s when you passed out. You collapsed and we put you on the sofa where you’ve been sleeping ever since. Do you feel rested?”

“Yes, I…I do. I’m a little hungry. And I could use a nice shower rather than a washcloth and basin for once.”

“There are showers in the gym on the floor below us. With the power out, I’m afraid the only running water we have is cold water.”

“I’m used to cold showers. I used to take them all the time to get my mind off from…” She reached for her coffee again and took a sip. Slower this time so she wouldn’t burn herself.

Fuller watched her. “To keep your mind off from what?”

Staci paused. “Nothing. I’m awake now and…and I don’t intend to blurt anything else out, so please change the subject.” She looked at her coffee. “Thank you for this. Where did you get it?”

“In William’s office. He’s using power from the generators so I borrowed some of it for coffee. There’s food packs there, too. Plenty of granola bars if you like that. If you need to go and freshen up for the day, we’ll discuss our plan of attack in an hour.”

“Plan of attack?”

“Just an expression.” Then, he said, “I’m hoping you and Al both come by before the others do because I need to discuss something important with the two of you.”

“What would that be?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re both present.”

She nodded as she slowly rose to her feet. “Okay. I’ll try not to be too long.”

Taking her coffee, she thanked him one more time and left the office to freshen up. Fuller couldn’t help but wonder what she had been dreaming about and what it had to do with cold showers. Some people had dreams about their past nightmares. Was that what Staci had? He didn’t know and couldn’t know without prying. Since it wasn’t his place to pry, he decided he would find out when and if she wanted him to.

At any rate, he did have only one thing to go on. During the night as he had kicked back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, he had heard her cry out a few times in her sleep. She had cried out three different words he had been able to make out. The rest had been unintelligible. Staci had been exhausted and because of it she had verbally sounded out in her sleep.

The three words were, “no”, “please”, and “Ron”. He didn’t know who Ron was but he seriously thought if he ever met the man, he was going to introduce him to Lenox.

It was less than an hour later when Staci returned to Fuller’s office refreshed and ready to face the next challenge. She needed to continue to keep herself busy otherwise she would fall apart. It was even difficult for her to read the Bible whenever a spare moment did come to her. It was hard to consider going forward when the future was now far more uncertain than it ever was.

And then there was Michael Lenox.

She found herself in the habit of bringing him to her mind when she thought she was going to lose it. At first she fought it. When he continued to fill her thoughts she finally allowed it. She couldn’t understand why she was so fascinated with him. He kept himself away from her. He seemed to be a bit harsh and yet there was something about him that drew her to him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to share what she was feeling.

When she stepped into the office, she was startled to find he was the only one there.

Lenox leaned casually against the desk, a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked toward the door when she entered and his eyes met Staci’s.

Staci just stopped in the doorway. For what seemed to be an eternity, no one spoke. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Hi.”

Lenox said, “Hi,” and then, took a swallow from his coffee.

Hesitantly, Staci entered the office and took a seat on the sofa. Silence descended upon them and she tried to look busy looking anywhere but at him. Lenox had thoughts of his own, which he shared with no one. He recalled many times when he had hit upon Nichole Parkhurst and been turned down each and every time. He was certain he could lay the charm on the younger sister…but for some reason he couldn’t explain, he held back from doing so with her. He knew he could use her vulnerability during the crisis to take advantage of her, yet for the first time in his life he didn’t want to.

Maybe I’m getting soft, he thought to himself as he looked at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem…nervous.”

“What? Me? Nervous?” Staci smiled, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her right ear. “Oh…no. No. I’m not nervous. Why, uhm…why would I be nervous?” She glanced up at him. “Are you nervous?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“See? That…that’s really great. You’re not nervous. And, uhm…I’m not nervous. Nope. None of us are nervous, and that’s good.” She quickly looked away, wondering to herself why she was sounding like a complete babbling idiot. Where is everybody else? Please, someone come in here before I keep making a fool of myself!

As if in answer to her plea, Barrington, Erin and Fuller came into the office. Fuller closed the door behind him as Staci audibly breathed a sigh of relief. Lenox looked at her and she avoided eye contact with him.

Fuller moved around his desk and sat down. “Everyone just take a seat. I want to make this as quick as possible so you can get underway.”

Everyone took a seat. Lenox found himself sitting next to Staci, who tried not to notice.

Fuller regarded the team assembled before him. “To make this short as I can, your mission is simple. Keith and Jeremy will fly you to Maine in the Storm Breaker. You’ll head for a place called Piscataquis River Reservoir where the President has a private ranch. He’s in hiding there. Or at least he was when I last spoke with him. I was informed that’s where he was going. The ranch is set up in much the same way as Bunker Island is. He may be hiding in the shelters below the ranch. I want you to find him and see to his safety.”

Lenox scowled. “All of us?”

“Yes. All of you.”

“Are you serious?”

Fuller turned his full attention on Lenox. “I’m quite serious. You have a problem with it?”

“Yes, I do. Erin and Dr. Cohen aren’t field agents. Dr. Cohen isn’t even an agent. She’s a civilian.”

Staci cleared her throat. “Uhm…you can call me Staci.”

Lenox glanced at her. “Director, there could be terrorists looking for the President. For all we know, they could have him and we may have to fight to get him back. I don’t think I would like to take anyone into this place if they haven’t got the experience. Bear and I would have to watch them as well as our own backs.”

“Michael,” Fuller began patiently, “Staci is going with you because if the President needs any medical attention, she can give it to him. Erin is going because she is qualified in the task I am giving her. She’s as close to a computer expert as William is. If anyone with the President hasn’t jury-rigged a computer from scratch like William has, she can help them with that. So your job may be a bit more challenged, but I believe you’re up to the task. Get to the President and take out any terrorist you come across. Just make certain both Staci and Erin are safe.” He glanced at Barrington. “Do what you have to do. I’m praying we’ll be able to connect through the computers somehow, but of course, that depends upon connecting with a working satellite in space.”

Staci hesitantly raised a hand. “Uhm…I have a question.”

Fuller smiled wryly. “What’s your question?”

“Well…this EMP pulse…thingie…” She leaned forward. “Do we have any idea how far it spreads? I mean, is…is the entire world in a black out?”

Lenox sat back on the sofa and put his right arm over the back, stretching it. With his other hand, he took a drink from his coffee. He didn’t notice Barrington grinning at him.

Fuller shrugged. “We can’t really say for certain how much of the world was affected, but I’m willing to bet for the most part it’s just the United States of America. I’m hoping we’ll know more once William manages to get online.”

“There’s plenty of satellites out in space, Staci,” Barrington replied helpfully. “The EMP may have taken out more than one of them, which explains why Crazy Man hasn’t established a link yet.”

“Well…I’m a little nervous about what’s next, aren’t you?” Staci let out a sigh. “I mean…even if we get power again…if we ever do…Well, doesn’t the Bible say there are worse things coming?”

Lenox rolled his eyes, yet he decided to remain silent.

Fuller noticed. “We’ll talk about that later. In fact, after this meeting and right before you leave, why don’t you and Al stick around for a moment and we’ll answer that for you?”

Staci nodded. “Thank you.” She sat back.

What she didn’t realize was that when she sat back, she didn’t notice Lenox’ arm on the back of the sofa behind her. Barrington, Fuller and Erin did notice, however, and Barrington was trying very hard not to crack a smile. Erin shook her head and tried not to look at them. Lenox realized what was happening and slowly began to move his arm out from behind Staci.

She turned her head. “Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he said.

Duh! she thought to herself. He just had his arm around me and I didn’t notice? What am I thinking? He doesn’t even know you, Lord. And what am I thinking? God, please…help me with my thoughts because they seem to be running away with me. I know I’m only human, but I don’t need this distraction right now.

Fuller paused to see if he had everyone’s attention before he continued. When he was satisfied he did, he reached for his Bible and pulled it toward him. “There’s just one more thing I’d like to do before you go.” He glanced at Lenox. “I know how uncomfortable this makes you, but if you would only indulge me for a moment I would greatly appreciate it.”

Lenox paused. “You’re not going to preach, are you?”

“I’d like to offer a word of encouragement and prayer.”

He nodded slowly. “I see.”

“It’ll only take a moment, but if you’re really that uncomfortable-”

Lenox held up a hand. “Go ahead, Director. I won’t interrupt or spoil it in anyway. Just don’t expect me to accept it.”

Staci turned to look at him. “Why are you fighting so hard against the message of hope?”

“This message of hope is not for me.”

“But…Jesus died for every one, not just for those who accept Him. He died for you, too. My sister had been telling me for years the truth about Him and…and I didn’t get it until she vanished…along with many other people. A man vanished from the rig of his truck and the rig crashed right through the foyer of the building complex I live in! I could have died. Instead, I was given a chance by God to come to Him. He’s giving you a chance, too, if you’ll only take it.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.”

She regarded him. “You’re not fine. Nikki told me about you and she said you hide behind your tough guy, super macho walk because you’re hiding the real you.”

Lenox blinked. “Excuse me…? Nikki…?”

Barrington couldn’t help it. He laughed, as did Erin. Fuller simply smiled. It wasn’t often he was able to watch Lenox’ cage being rattled.

“Nikki. My sister.” Staci tilted her head. “Nichole. You worked with her. Or…or at least she worked in this office. And yes, she warned me all about you, mister, so watch yourself! Just know that I’ll be praying for you until you do get saved, and…and I’m going to ask Him to hound you day and night until you do!” She turned to Fuller. “I’m sorry…I-I interrupted you.”

Fuller smiled. “It’s alright.”

“Yes, it is.” Lenox rose to his feet. “Director, I changed my mind. If you have nothing else for me, I’d like to head up to the rooftop and let Ace and Rookie know we’re leaving.”

Fuller sat back and nodded slowly. “I’ve nothing else.”

Lenox nodded. Then, he headed out of the office, closing the door behind him.

Staci closed her eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. “Oh, I’m so stupid. He was going to stay and listen until I opened my mouth!”

“Knox has always been stubborn,” Barrington assured her. “It’s not your fault.”

“I like your idea of praying for him, Staci,” Erin told her. “I’ll pray the same way.”

“Right now, praying for Michael is all we can do,” Fuller told them. “He’s having his own battles right now and we need to respect that. He’s angry. This attack on our country has really taken a lot of wind from his sail because he never believed this day would ever come. When it did, he wasn’t prepared for it. Everything he believes in has been hit and he’s not happy about it. We’ll all pray for him. God may lead him to a place where he has to make a decision, but ultimately it will still be up to Michael to make the choice. We can’t push him into it. Believe me. If you push him, be prepared to be pushed back.”

He sat back in his chair, put his Bible in his lap and flipped it open to where he had placed a bookmark inside. “I want to offer some encouraging words to you before you go. We believe the days ahead of us are going to be a lot worse than what we’ve already seen. Now I’m not a Bible scholar, but I’ve found something I’d like to share with you because it was encouraging to me. I believe this book will be our greatest strength for us in the days ahead.” He held up the Bible. “There’s a lot I don’t understand. All I know is it is God’s Word and I’m going to take it literally. Before I read, I want to assure you that even though we're in this fight, the battle belongs to the Lord.” He shook his head. “It isn’t ours. It’s His and He’s already won it. We’ve just got to get through this raging war until He returns once again.”

Fuller sat back and looked at the page he had turned to. “I’m reading from I Samuel 17, verses 40 through 50.” He cleared his throat. "‘And he took his staff in his hand, and chose him five smooth stones out of the brook, and put them in a shepherd's bag which he had, even in a scrip; and his sling was in his hand: and he drew near to the Philistine. And the Philistine came on and drew near unto David; and the man that bare the shield went before him. And when the Philistine looked about, and saw David, he disdained him: for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and of a fair countenance. And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves? And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. And the Philistine said to David, Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field. Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the LORD deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this assembly shall know that the LORD saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the LORD's, and he will give you into our hands. And it came to pass, when the Philistine arose, and came, and drew nigh to meet David, that David hastened, and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. And David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth. So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and smote the Philistine, and slew him; but there was no sword in the hand of David.’”

He looked up from the Bible. “As I’ve said, I’m not a scholar. I’m not a teacher or a preacher. I read this and couldn’t help but think of the odds David and all of Israel were facing during that time. Everyone seemed to be worried. King Saul was worried. David’s family was worried. Everyone was worried about the army of the Philistines and they seemed to be afraid of the giant, too. Yet David steps in and says, ‘I’m not afraid. Who are you to stand there and slander the Lord my God with vicious words?’” He shrugged. “Who were they? They were the enemies of God. David knew it didn’t matter in the end because he believed in his God. He knew where the victory already was so he wasn’t afraid.” He paused. “I know it’s hard now. I know I can tell you not to be afraid and it may not be enough. Just stand for God like He is standing for us and then…we’ll be okay. Be of good cheer and know that our God is doing what He set out to do. That should be a comforting thought to us.”

Erin nodded. “It is,” she said softly.

Barrington nodded. “Amen, sister.”

Fuller leaned forward. “We know it’s going to get worse. Now…I don’t exactly know what’s coming but I have some ideas on how we can know and be better prepared. Before I say anything else, I need you all to keep what is said here just between us. Is that understood?”

Staci nodded slowly, trying to comprehend the severity of Fuller’s tone.

Erin and Barrington also agreed.

“William has called us the Gatherers. That includes the four of us, William and Marc. You can add Ken and Keith to that, too. Right now, the three of you and the four I mentioned are the only people I trust. That makes eight of us who are going to be the only ones kept in the loop on what we’re going to be doing.”

Staci shook her head. “Wait…wait a minute…Kept in the loop…on what? I don’t understand. Isn’t Michael one of you?”

Barrington hesitated. “Knox and I have been friends since High School. I love him like a brother, but until he comes to know Christ like we do, we can’t trust him completely.”

“But…but he’s your friend! Are you saying he would…he would what? Turn against you?”

“The Antichrist is coming,” Fuller told her. “I’m afraid Michael could be swayed to his cause and away from the truth. That’s what we have to pray about, Staci. We have to pray that God will open Michael’s eyes before it’s too late. I’m telling you, if anyone begins to follow the Antichrist, they’re going to eventually turn on us and hunt us down like criminals.”

“I don’t want to believe Knox could turn on us,” Barrington said softly, “but we have to be ready if he does.”

Staci regarded him. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

She looked at Erin. Then, she turned to Fuller. “What other things do we have to look forward to?”

Fuller paused. “I’m going to visit Al’s place with Marc while you’re gone.”

Staci exchanged looks with Barrington.

“Yes, I know about Darwyn Musad. First order of business, I want you all to start referring to him as David. If someone hears you talking about Darwyn, they might get suspicious. I’d rather you not speak about him outside of this office unless you have to, but if you do, refer to him as David.”

Staci swallowed. “My…son’s name is David. We…can always say we’re talking about my son.” She didn’t refer to him in the past tense.

Fuller smiled reassuringly at her. “That would be fine.” He paused. “Erin, when you get back, you and William are going to work on that webpage he was talking about. His campaign against the Antichrist. He hinted you might be interested in that.”

Erin smiled like a school girl. “Really?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, yes. I am interested in that. I’d be glad to help, but I’m really not as good as he is.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Director…I have a question.”

He nodded to her, encouraging her to continue.

Erin hesitated. “May I…?” She held out her hand.

Fuller handed her his Bible.

She took it and placed it on her lap. Then, she reached into her pocket and took out the pink-rimmed star glasses. She glanced nervously about as she put them on. “I found this scripture by chance yesterday…” She came to the scripture she wanted and read out loud. “’The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the LORD come. And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the LORD shall be delivered: for in mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the LORD hath said, and in the remnant whom the LORD shall call.’2”

Barrington couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Erin with those glasses on. In spite of them he listened to her.

“When will the sun be turned into darkness?” She took off her glasses as she handed the Bible back to Fuller. “Are we the remnant? Are those who get saved in the tribulation the remnant?”

The Director let out a sigh as he considered the questions. Finally, he said, “I don’t really know, Erin. To be honest, we’re all new at this and have a lot of study to catch up on. I’ll look into it though. As far as the remnant is concerned, I suppose that we’re a remnant of something. I believe I’ve heard there is a remnant in Israel. I’ve heard of a called remnant. We’ll get that studied and answered for you, I promise.“ He turned to Barrington. “Al, along with everything else, we’ll also need other locations to hide people when the time comes. I don’t believe we’ll be able to use Bunker Island. Many know of its existence.”

Barrington nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“Good. Okay, people…That’s all I wanted to discuss with you. Why don’t we pray and then, you can leave?”

The others agreed, and the first official prayer meeting of the Gatherers was just about to conclude.

1 I John 4:4
2 Joel 2:31 & 32

Moore was not only stranded on Route 7 in Penobscot County without transportation, he was also very close to being overcome by guilt at having been forced to fire his shotgun upon another human being. He knew he had shot the young man who had intended to shoot him. Yet it was the uncertainty of not knowing whether the man was alive or dead, which ate away at him the most.

This uncertainty only added to Moore’s dilemma.

He was standing in the middle of the road without his truck. The young men had intentionally placed a blockade on the road causing him to stop and then they had successfully taken his truck from him. One of them may be dead. If that were true, Moore didn’t understand why they didn’t return to end his own life out of a need for revenge. Maybe they weren’t the fighting kind of men. Maybe the young man he had shot wasn’t dead. Maybe they were taking him to some help. Whatever the case was, it still left Moore without transportation.

He had to keep going.

He was the bearer of bad news. A stranger lay dead on the sofa in his home. Another man may have been killed by Moore’s own hands and it didn’t matter to him that it was in self defense. He still had a long way to go yet and it was going to be longer because he just wasn’t as young as he used to be. Walking the rest of the way was not what he had intended on. Shaking his head in frustration, he didn’t believe it could get any worse than it already was. The world as he knew it was coming to an end and nothing could cause his heart to tremor any more than it was.

Or so he thought.

He was proven wrong when he came to the farmhouse.

Before then, he had no other choice before him but to go on. He moved around the blockade in the middle of Route 7 and then began his long walk along the road. The task forced upon him made his heart heavy with despair and all he wanted to do was finish it. Then, he really didn’t care what became of him afterward. He hung onto his shotgun, wishing for a moment that it was long enough to use as a cane or walking stick. He needed it anyway in the event he ran into more trouble. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to use it again.

Unfortunately, the future was even more uncertain now than it ever was before. Every day of his life seemed to add more of a heavy burden to his heart.

He continued to walk onward. The road stretched on for miles ahead of him with no signs of civilization. He hoped it stayed that way. He wasn’t up to meeting anyone else. Now that his truck had been stolen he had nothing but his shotgun and just maybe a small shred of dignity left to his name.

For Moore, time just dragged on. What seemed like an eternity passed. Yet it was only one hour later when he came upon a farmhouse.

At first he didn’t see it. What caught his attention was something he saw above the trees as he walked. It was round and metallic. The sun shone off from it, causing him to shade his eyes. He continued to walk and waited to see what it was when he passed the trees. He finally came to it and stood still, catching his breath.

It was a silo. The barn and silo were back behind a farmhouse, which looked deserted from where he stood. There was a black Ford truck in the driveway, but he doubted it was able to run. Someone else must have decided that as well for the windows had been smashed out and it appeared as if someone had taken a beating to it. As Moore stood there wiping sweat off from his brow, he contemplated his options.

“Well,” he said out loud, “I could go on up there and knock on the door. ‘Hi, nice farmhouse people. It’s just a harmless old, black man passing by with a shotgun. Mind if I come in and sit for a spell? Can I use your bathroom or do you have an outhouse somewhere around the barn? Say, could a brother get a bite to eat or something?’” He shook his head. “Oh, yes…This has the makings of a horror film and I don’t want to be in it.”

He let out a sigh.

Finally, muttering to himself as he shook his head, he made his way to the front door of the farmhouse. He began to wonder if he was making the right choice in asking for help because the closer he got, the worse he felt. Something was very wrong here. Some of the windows in front of the house were broken. When he stepped onto the porch, an odor greeted him. He looked around the porch, realizing that some spots on the floor seemed to be damp.

He lowered himself down and touched a damp spot on the floor with the tips of his fingers. Then, he brought his fingers to his nose and smelled them.

“Gasoline.”

Rising to his full height, he looked at the front door. Someone had poured gasoline onto the porch. For what purpose, he could only imagine. His concern was that the person or persons responsible had to still be around and if he stuck around, he was going to run into them.

If he left, however, then those who lived in the farmhouse were going to be in trouble.

Shaking his head, he slowly moved toward the front door. This time, he held up his shotgun. He was ready to use it if he had to. He had intended to knock on the door at first, but now that there was bound to be trouble he decided on a different approach. He put his hand on the door and tried it.

It was unlocked.

Slowly, he turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.

It creaked as it opened. He waited in the doorway with his shotgun at the ready and searched the living room for any sign of trouble. Nothing moved inside. There wasn’t a sound from within the farmhouse.

There was one thing he did notice right away. The smell of gasoline was stronger inside the house than on the porch. He wrinkled up his nose and stepped inside, listening for any sounds.

There was one.

Something upstairs fell on the floor with an echoed thud. It sounded like someone had dropped an empty gasoline canister. Taking a look around, he noted some of the furniture had been drenched with the deadly liquid. A thought occurred to him. One he really didn’t like. Why would someone pour gasoline from outside the house and then continue into the house if they actually intended to light it up? He had thought this was going to be the work of some vandals like the boys who had stolen his truck, but now realized it could be the actual owner of the place who intended to send up his home in flames.

For a moment, Moore stood still and listened intently for any other sounds from up above him. When he couldn’t hear any, he stepped cautiously into the living room. He saw a set of stairs leading upward and at the bottom of those stairs was a canister. From the way it was laying on the floor with no cap in sight gave him the impression it was now empty and obviously the contents had been gasoline. It had been poured out all over the room around him. He noticed it was a five-gallon container and five gallons could spread out pretty far if someone needed it to.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. He wasn’t at all certain what to expect when he went up there, yet since his heart was pounding in his chest because of fear of the unknown he decided to try a new approach.

“Hey, up there!” he called out. “There’s an old man down here who wandered into your nice, lovely…gasoline scented home, so don’t do anything crazy. Okay?” He listened.

Nothing but silence greeted him.

“Listen, I’m coming up for a visit. It’s okay. I’m not dangerous or anything. Just don’t go lighting any matches!”

Again, there was no response from upstairs.

He shook his head and muttered, “Ooh, Lizzie Borden…I sure hope that ain’t you up there.”

Drawing up some courage, he slowly went up the stairs even though what he really wanted to do was to get out of that house as fast as he could. However, he felt that someone might need his help whether they knew it or not. How could he pass his fellow man up when there was a need? Maybe someday someone would return the kindness to him. That was if he himself lived through this.

At the top of the stairs, he smelled more gasoline. It seemed to him that the gasoline here was simply splattered on the walls and a trail of it led down a corridor. He began to follow the trail.

He didn’t have to.

Standing there in the doorway of a bedroom was a woman holding onto a small container of what he could only assume was more gasoline. There was another empty one on the floor further down the hall. It was the one he had heard from downstairs as it fell onto the floor.

The woman was silently regarding him through her glasses, but appeared not to care about his presence one way or the other.

Moore slowed his pace, which was fine by him because all the walking he had done was taking its toll. He made sure the shotgun was pointed at the floor. He didn’t want to alarm her and realized it was most likely too late for that. By her countenance, she didn’t seem like someone who could be alarmed by anything anymore. It was as if she had seen enough. He also didn’t want to alarm himself any further and moved his finger away from the trigger. If the shotgun fired off now, there would be a catastrophe he wanted very much to avoid. It wasn’t that he didn’t like fire. He just didn’t want to be in one.

As he regarded the woman, he realized she wasn’t bothered by his arrival. He saw that she was already determined to do what she had set out to do, which was to set the entire farmhouse on fire. By the impression he was getting from the way she simply stood there watching him, she intended to light the house on fire while still inside it herself.

“What have you got going here?” Moore inquired, hoping for a way to stop her. “Are we going to have a bonfire? I like bonfires, but I didn’t bring any marshmallows.”

The woman blinked.

It was a reaction anyway, yet she still wouldn’t speak.

He stopped a few feet away from her. “Okay. I know you’re not really making a bonfire. You’re up to something though, aren’t you? I can tell. Now I know you don’t know me, but people call me ‘Pa’ ‘cause I’m the old, black guy named ‘Pa’. And I just want to tell you that you don’t have to do this. I know things are…very bad right now. We just have to find a reason to keep on living. So put that container down and walk away from it.” He shook his head. “Would you do that for me? We can do it together. We can put it down and go outside where the air smells fresher.”

She looked away from him and into the room she was standing in front of.

Moore paused. “What’s your name?”

She didn’t answer.

He scratched his head. “Well, since you’re about to make a fire, I think I’ll just call you…Firewoman. May I call you Firewoman?”

She continued to look into the room.

“What happened here?”

She didn’t answer him, but this time she stepped aside to give him room to look into the bedroom. Hesitantly, Moore stepped beside her to have a look for himself. His eyes widened in amazement at what was before him. The bedroom was lit by several candles. They were cluttered about the vanity dresser, upon the nightstands on either side of the bed and on the window sills.

A young woman lay still on the bed and he assumed she was sleeping. He soon realized she wasn’t sleeping at all. She looked peaceful and content, yet she had passed away.

Moore glanced at the woman beside him. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

The woman nodded her appreciation for his words, but still couldn’t bring herself to talk. She looked down at the small container she held in her hands.

“You’re the only one left, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “Of your family I mean. When the vanishings happened it was just you and…your daughter?”

She cleared her throat and spoke for the first time. “Sabrina.”

“Are you Sabrina? Is that your name?”

She shook her head. “My daughters name is…was Sabrina.” She paused. “She was pregnant. A boy. She was going to have a baby boy.”

Moore turned to look into the room once more at Sabrina lying still on her deathbed. Her stomach appeared to be flat. He assumed the young woman had had a miscarriage. “I don’t know what to say, Firewoman,” he said softly. “I can only offer my condolences, but somehow, I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

Silence descended on them.

After a moment, she said, “That’s okay. I’ll see them both again.”

He watched her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to see them again…in heaven with Jesus.” She paused. “My husband was a Christian, but he’s gone now. I found his clothes in the kitchen where he must have been standing when the rapture happened. As far as I know, all of the family on his side were Christians, too. I think they vanished like he did. My family were also Christians.” She let out a weary sigh. “Well, I thought I was a Christian myself until the rapture happened, but my daughter and I were both left behind. The baby Sabrina was carrying wasn’t. Jesus came for him, too, just like He came for everyone else who knew Him.” She shook her head, still amazed and horrified of that day of the rapture. “My hand was on her belly because she had told me he was kicking. It…it just went flat. Like a balloon losing air in a split second. I thought I had done something wrong because Sabrina just started to scream. And she wouldn’t stop screaming.”

Moore didn’t know what to say so he remained silent.

“I really don’t know what happened then. My daughter just collapsed. I tried to call my husband for help, but he never answered because he had vanished and I didn’t know he did until later. The phones weren’t working either. I finally put her into the truck to take her to the hospital, but it wouldn’t start. So I helped her into her room and tried to make her comfortable. She was in a lot of pain and I had to wonder if it had to do with the baby vanishing from within her, or if there were just…other hidden complications we didn’t yet know about.” She shrugged helplessly. “I just don’t know. Something was wrong with her and I didn’t know what it was. I still don’t. So I mostly stayed by her side, reading to her.”

When she didn’t go on, Moore asked her, “What did you read?”

She nodded her head toward the nightstand on the left side of the bed. “I read her passages from the Bible. Psalms. The Book of Romans. And I read from the Gospel of John.”

“Did it help?”

“It helped us both. We got saved the night after the rapture happened…” She paused. “Better late than never, I guess. Sabrina got saved just in time. She died earlier this morning before the sun came up. I…I just cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.”

Moore nodded and paused. “Then, you went to get some gasoline to start a fire.”

She looked at him. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t stay here. I have no one left because they’re all gone. I just want to go and be with my family.”

“Okay…okay, look. I’m not a Bible scholar or anything, but I don’t think God would be pleased with you if you just go and kill yourself, now would He? I mean, do you really believe He would want you to do that?” He looked at her. “Hold on, now. I have read this book before. Job lost everything he had, didn’t he? I believe he wouldn’t curse God even though he had a reason to. Maybe you have a reason to, too, but just because you have a reason to react doesn’t make it the right thing to do.”

“Are you saved?”

“Saved?” He considered the question. “You mean…did I pray the sinner’s prayer and repent of my sins?” He sighed and shook his head. “No.”

She turned to face him. “Why not? Can’t you see where we are? We’re at the end of the world. We may not be able to survive what’s coming. Wouldn’t you want to be assured of a place in heaven?”

“Well…every man and woman has to reach that place in their lives when they re-evaluate the things they’ve done and the way they‘ve lived. And I’ve done things. Things I’m not proud of I’m sorry to say. Things I’m not sure He could ever forgive me for. But this isn’t about me right now. It’s about you. I think you need to put the container down and live your life the way your family would have wanted you to live it.”

She regarded him. ‘I’ll do that…if you consider one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You must consider that the problem is not about God being unable to forgive you, but it’s you who are unable to forgive yourself.”

He paused as he thought about his life and what he had done as a Marine. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll give it deep consideration for you, Firewoman.”

“Thank you, Pa.”

“Now we have to figure out what to do about your home. I think opening all the windows to air it out just isn’t going to be enough.”

She paused. “I have to burn it.”

“Why?”

“I’ve already had vandals visit three times here. Three different groups of them. The first ones came in and went through looking for whatever they wanted while Sabrina and I hid up in the attic. We hid the second time, too. Heard a lot of laughing and looting.” She sighed. “I thought I’d never see the day.”

“What about the third time?”

“Yesterday afternoon…Sabrina was in bed and unable to move. I stayed with her when they came. I can tell you…We must have had guardian angels at the door of her bedroom.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They wouldn’t come in.”

He looked at her. “They wouldn’t come into the bedroom?”

“Yeah. This tall boy with a baseball bat came right to the doorway and I thought he was going to come in swinging. He looked violent. Like he wanted to use the bat to smash things. To smash us. But he stopped right in the doorway, looked at us, looked around the room…and then, his eyes got as big as saucers. Something scared him and I can’t say what it was. He just abruptly turned and ran off. I heard him running down the stairs, yelling for the others to get out of the house. Then…they were gone.” She paused. “I can’t let anyone else come into this house. I’m just one woman and won’t be able to prevent anymore vandals. And I can’t give my daughter a proper burial.” She shrugged. “The only thing I can do is burn the place up…with Sabrina in it. I can’t leave her like this.”

Moore looked into the room. “Times are hard now, aren’t they?” He sighed. “I’ll help you, but we’ll light the place up from outside so we don’t get stuck in here, alright?”

She nodded.

“Do you want me to take that container and do the rest?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll do it.” She looked at him. “Could you wait outside? I promise…I’ll come out when I’m ready to.”

He regarded her. “Alright. I’ll wait. Just…just don’t pour any of that gasoline onto them candles in there ‘cause that would light up this place prematurely and we wouldn’t want that. Pa will have to come running back in here and he can’t really run as fast as he used to, but it won’t stop him from trying.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Moore nodded his head. Then, he turned and honored her request by going outside to wait. The air was a whole lot fresher outside than in the farmhouse and he breathed in deeply. He walked over to the damaged truck and sat down on the open tailgate. As he waited, he wondered about his next options. The woman was going to have to go with him on his journey because he couldn’t leave her here. There wouldn’t be a place for her to stay after the house caught on fire.

He waited for her and after a time, she came out of the house. She walked off the porch with a rolled up newspaper in her hand. She lit one end of it on fire with a lighter. Then she tossed it onto the porch and took a few hurried steps back. The porch lit up wherever the gasoline had been spilled. As Moore got off from the tailgate and caught up with her, the flames had gone into the house and continued to follow the gasoline trail.

The two of them went into the field beside the farmhouse and moved away from the growing flames. When they were back far enough, they stood in silence to watch. The flames had proven to be hungry or some power they could not explain was now at work. Flames were leaping out through the windows and coming up through the roof. Neither one of them could believe it was all due to what gasoline she had poured out.

“It was an old house,” she finally said.

Moore looked at her. “Was it the right thing to do?”

She nodded. “It was the only thing to do.”

“I’m sorry you had to do this, Firewoman.”

She paused. “My name is Donna Perkins.”

“Well, then I think I’ll call you Donna Perkins. Can I just call you Donna?”

“Yes. Or you can call me Firewoman.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

Then, they were silent and watched the farmhouse burn.

Barrington led the way up the stairwell with his flashlight. He had returned Erin’s pink flashlight to her earlier and she was using it to add light to his as they headed up the stairs. Staci was with them, concerned about the mission before them. She felt overwhelmed. Barrington was a trained field agent, Erin was an assistant to the Director of the Anti-Terrorist Division of the FBI and she was a Medical Doctor. She wasn’t in any agency. She had no idea what was expected of her and feared she might make a mistake.

Lenox had already voiced his strong disapproval of having her joining them on the mission to Maine. He didn’t believe Erin should go either. Staci felt like she was only going to be in the way. She didn’t know how Erin felt about it.

Barrington glanced at her as they continued up the stairs. He knew his friend Lenox could be hard on people because it was just in his nature and even though it wasn’t necessary, he sometimes felt the need to apologize for him. “Staci,” he began, “don’t let what Knox said earlier bother you. He’ll get over it.”

“I’m not,” she assured him. “I mean I won’t.” She shrugged. “It’s not bothering me. I’ve never done this before…so I understand where he’s coming from.”

“It’s just that we don’t know what to expect out there. We may encounter terrorists. We may come across other problems. Just keep your head down and we‘ll protect you. Both of you.”

Staci hesitated. “Do you think we’ll run into trouble?”

“I’m not expecting to. I’m sure Ace and Rookie will take a flight path over unpopulated areas. We’ll probably go over Vermont and New Hampshire and then right into Maine. If we run into any trouble, I imagine it will happen when we get to where we’re going.” He paused. “The Director had thought of asking if either one of you would take a weapon.”

“He did ask me to,” Erin replied.

“You didn’t take one?”

She looked up at him. “Actually, I did. I have a standard Berretta. I’ve been trained to use it…Just never fired at anyone and hope I don’t have to.” She turned to Staci. “The Director didn’t ask me to take it. He ordered me to. He didn’t approach you about a weapon?”

Staci shook her head. “No. I don’t suppose he would approach me either. Not about taking a weapon.”

“Why not?”

“The Hippocratic Oath,” Barrington answered as they reached the eighth landing. They still had twelve more floors to go. “Doctors devote themselves to saving lives, not taking them. The Director probably figured you wouldn’t even consider arming yourself, even if just for protection. Isn‘t that right, Doc?”

“Yes, of course, it is,” Staci told them. “The Oath has changed over the years, but for the most part it’s the same. It‘s all about giving care to those who are in need.” She took a deep breath. “How many floors does this building have?”

“Twenty.” He shone the light upward, trying to see to the very top but unable to. “Since we’ve got a little way to go, can you tell us about the Oath?”

Staci paused. “What about it?”

“Where did it come from? What exactly does it say? Can you quote it?”

“I’ve heard it enough times to have it memorized. I can quote you both the classical and the modern version of it. Why do you want to hear it?”

Barrington shrugged. “It’s something new to me. I’ve heard about the Hippocratic Oath, or at least in name anyway. I’ve never actually had it quoted to me though.”

“Well…okay. The Oath actually came from a man named Hippocrates of Cos, who was an ancient Greek physician. Today, he’s known as ‘the Father of Medicine’. The oath originated from him, so that’s why we have the Hippocratic Oath. And the Oath is this; ’I swear by Apollo Physician and Asclepius and Hygieia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant…’” She shook her head. “Please don’t ask me about those other names. I’m not a Historian.”

She sucked in her lower lip as she thought of the Oath. Then, she continued, “‘To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him a share of mine, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage and to teach them this art - if they desire to learn it - without fee and covenant; to give a share of precepts and oral instruction and all the other learning to my sons and to the sons of him who has instructed me and to pupils who have signed the covenant and have taken an oath according to the medical law, but no one else.’”

Barrington nodded appreciatively. “It sounds like you’re expected to hold your mentors in high regard.”

Staci nodded, but her thoughts briefly went to her own mentor, Dr. Richard Manning. The last time she had seen him, he had disowned her and suspended her license. “We are and in most cases, we do.” Then, she quoted, “‘I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice. I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect. Similarly I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy. In purity and holiness I will guard my life and my art. I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work. Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves. What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself, holding such things shameful to be spoken about. If I fulfill this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.’1”

Erin was impressed. “Wow. There’s really something in the original Hippocratic Oath about not giving an abortion?”

“Yep. But in the modern version, it‘s not mentioned at all. It‘s completely taken out.” She then quoted, “‘I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant: I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow. I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of over-treatment and therapeutic nihilism. I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug. I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery. I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God. I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick. I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure. I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm. If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.’2”

Barrington stopped on the eighteenth landing to regard her. “That’s amazing you remember all that.”

Staci shrugged. “I remember it because I know it. I also believe in it. Well, except for the part about it being in my power to take a life. I’ll never do that. It goes against everything I believe in and I’d rather it were my life instead of someone else’s. Especially now that I know there’s an eternity beyond our deaths.”

They reached the top and Barrington pushed open the door, which led to the roof. The three of them, Barrington, Staci and Erin stepped onto the roof and discovered the black Storm Breaker on the helicopter pad waiting for them. The rotors were moving and Lenox had the side door open, gesturing for them to hurry it up. Barrington and Erin turned off their flashlights. Erin shoved hers into her bag, which she was carrying. The three of them increased their pace and lowered themselves as they got closer to the helicopter.

Lenox reached down as they approached. Staci glanced up and looked at his hand. Then, he took her by the hand and helped her in. When they were all in and ready to go, Lenox closed the door. He signaled to Jeremy, who was watching for it and then, without a word, took his seat beside Staci. She looked at him and noticed he was ready to go into battle. Since they had come out of the stairwell, she noticed Barrington was also wearing Kevlar as his partner was.

To the left of where she sat, there were weapons. She didn‘t know what type of weapons they were for she wasn‘t an expert when it came to such things. She wasn’t in favor of any type of man-made object that could inflict serious harm, even death, to people.

Lenox chose the weapons himself. There were two 9mm MP-5 submachine guns for when they were on the ground, a box of ammo and one other rifle. Lenox had decided to bring along a 50 caliber sniper rifle in the mix just in the event they had to “reach out and touch” a terrorist from above.

Staci understood that they were field agents who were trained for combat and they needed their weapons to do their job, but she didn’t have to like it. Apparently, they had their own oath to live by as she had hers.

Fuller was more than ready to go as he came out of the darkened stairwell and headed through the lobby. He was relieved to see armed ATD and FBI agents positioned at the ready in the event of an attack on the Federal Building. Shiva was waiting at the front doors when the he made his approach.

“You ready?” Fuller asked him.

Shiva shrugged. “Yeah. Where are we heading?”

“Al’s apartment complex.”

The two men walked outside and onto the sidewalk along North Pearl Street. They headed toward Clinton Ave. West Avenue was only a few blocks away and they would get there in a short time.

“Bear just left for Maine,” Shiva reminded him, trying not to show his disappointment at not being able to go. “What’s at his apartment?”

“A terrorist who has changed his convictions.”

Shiva stopped on the sidewalk and stared at him. “What?” Then, he shook his head and pointed. “I knew Bear and Ricochet were talking about something! That has to be what it was. Are you telling me Bear’s harboring a terrorist in his own apartment? Director, how can a terrorist convert?”

“I can’t answer that,” Fuller responded as he stopped to face him. “I can tell you I believe Jesus once said it would be harder for a rich man to get into heaven than it would be for a camel to get through the eye of a needle.” He shrugged. “Maybe that applies in this case.”

“What are you talking about…sir?”

Fuller gestured for him to join him. “Come on. We can talk while we walk.” They continued their walk toward West Avenue. “I don’t really know the exact meaning of the eye in the needle thing, Marc. I only know it’s in there somewhere.”

“That’s in the Bible?” Shiva asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it is. I guess I’ll look into that one, too.” He paused. “I never realized the Bible has so much too learn until a few days ago. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been a lot of time on my hands to get into it.”

“I’m with you there.” Shiva glanced at him. “About this guy we’re going to see…Who is he?”

Fuller gave his question consideration. “Let’s just call him David for now. Okay?”

“But who is he?”

“Marc, don’t ask me anymore questions about who he is. I’m sure you’ll know soon enough, but you’re just going to have to trust me on this. No one must know who he is…so we’ll call him David.”

“David…”

Fuller nodded and smiled. “That’s right. David.”

“Does this David have a last name?”

“I hadn’t thought that out yet.” He gave it some more thought. Fuller realized that the times ahead were going to get worse and they would need all the allies they could get. If Darwyn Musad had truly converted Fuller wanted to include the ex-terrorist as one of the Gatherers.

They made it to the apartment complex on West Avenue and entered without any interruption. They used their flashlights to lead them up to the fifth floor. As they were opening the door, Shiva thought he heard a sound from above, like something scuffing against the floor. He shone his light up toward the sound and peered upward, hoping for a glimpse of whatever caused it.

“What’s wrong?” Fuller asked, pausing in the doorway.

Shiva let out a sigh, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I thought I heard something.” He turned to the Director. “I guess it’s nothing.”

The two men headed out the door, allowing it to close behind them.

Unknown to them, Brian Yorke was on the sixth floor landing. He waited until the door was closed and then he came down and looked out the small square window. He watched as Fuller and Shiva approached the apartment he and Groh had been asked to watch at Lenox’ request. The two men were allowed entrance by a man who very well could be a terrorist. Someone was hiding in the apartment. A terrorist had already paid a visit to apartment #55 when Groh had been on stake out.

As far as Yorke was concerned, he wasn’t sure he would wait to report anything to Lenox. Lenox wasn’t signing his paychecks. If there was any terrorist activity going on in apartment #55, he would find out about it…and act accordingly.

1 Translation from the Greek by Ludwig Edelstein. From The Hippocratic Oath: Text, Translation, and Interpretation, by Ludwig Edelstein. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1943.
2 Written in 1964 by Louis Lasagna, Academic Dean of the School of Medicine at Tufts University, and used in many medical schools today.

For a long time, or what seemed like it, Moore and Donna stood in silence as they watched the farmhouse go up in flames. It was completely engulfed now and the flames reached up for the sky. Neither one of them spoke. Donna kept to her private thoughts and Moore just didn’t want to intrude. He felt he had intruded enough. Donna remained still and reverently held the Bible she had taken from the nightstand before she exited the house.

Moore couldn’t help but wonder what was coming next. If it were the end of the world, it wouldn’t be anything good.

When a neighing sound came from behind them, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. As he and Donna turned around to look for the source of the neighing, they saw a chestnut-colored horse with a white blaze on its face and with four white socks. The horse pranced about in a circle in front of the open doorway of the barn. Every now and then it would look toward them, neigh loudly and bob its head.

“Well,” Donna finally said, watching the horse fondly, “it’s Sir Prize.”

“A lot of surprises are happening today,” Moore told her. “All week long even. Though I can’t really say that seeing a horse on a farm is all that much of a surprise.”

She looked at him. “That’s his name. Sir Prize.”

“Oh. A horse named Sir Prize. How nice.” He nodded his head. “He’s a beautiful animal.”

Donna looked around the barn and out toward the meadow beyond the property. “I don’t see the others. I let them all go because I was going to…” She stopped. “I let them all go, but he came back.”

“Maybe he just don’t like to be anywhere else.”

She nodded. “He’s an American Saddle Bred horse. Sabrina loved him. He’s a…a really good horse. Very docile. Loves to be with people.” She turned to face Moore. “We should go. Are you hungry?”

Moore regarded her. “Firewoman, you’re not thinking of having…” He pointed at the horse.

“No! Why would you think that? Are you crazy?”

“Well, we’re standing outsi