“I can't believe what's going on back there. You guys take off halfway across the country and you don'tâ”
“Whoa, big boy,” Mark interrupted. “Take a breath. What's wrong with you?”
“Nothing's wrong with me. I'm upset about the chances you guys are taking.”
“If you were here, you'd understand. We got a distress call from Iowa and felt like it was worth the risk.”
“And there's at least one believer dead, and maybe more if they catch Pete and this Dekker guy!”
“Judd, calm down. And if you can't, call me back. Do you want us to just sit on our hands until you can help us decide everything? If that's true, we would never have sent The Cube out, and that's been a success beyond our wildest dreams.”
Judd took a breath. He looked in one of the many mirrors in Z-Van's plane and saw that his face had reddened. “Can I talk with Vicki?” Judd finally managed.
“If you're going to be like this, I don't think it's a good idea. Natalie's death really hit her hard. She blamed herself for not getting her out of there.”
“I just ⦠want to talk.”
Judd waited, staring at himself in the mirror. He had known Vicki and the others for three and a half years. God had changed him in many ways, helping knock off the rough edges, but he still had a barrelful of anger inside and he had no idea why.
Vicki awoke from a sound sleep with Shelly standing over her. The girl held out the phone. “Judd's on the line for you.”
Vicki tried to clear her throat, but her voice still sounded groggy when she said, “Judd, what's up?”
“Darrion told us everything that's happened. I wanted to make sure you're all right.”
Judd sounded tense. Vicki scrunched her eyes and sat up. “Things could be better, but we're relatively safe. Just waiting to get back to Wisconsin.”
“I should have gotten in touch with you a long time ago. So much has been going on over here.”
“Any news on when you're coming back?”
Judd told her about their planned trip to Israel. “We want to see Sam and Mr. Stein again and watch Carpathia's next showdown.” Judd paused. “Vick, about this Chad guy ⦔
“What about him?”
Another pause. “I don't know. I guess ⦔
“What?” Vicki said warily.
“I think Z-Van and his crew are headed to the plane. I need to go.”
“Okay, be careful.”
“I will. Good-bye.”
Vicki clicked the Off button, and Shelly came back in the room. The two shared notes about his call, and Shelly said she thought Judd was way out of line.
When Vicki told her that Judd had mentioned Chad, Shelly threw up her hands. “I thought you'd appreciate me stirring up the competitive juices.”
Vicki frowned. “I don't need anybody competing over me. We don't have time for those games.” She lay back and put an arm over her forehead. “Do you remember anyone named Ben or Brad?”
Shelly shook her head. “Why?”
“I went to sleep thinking about Cheryl and her baby. Part of me thinks she should place the child with someone older who will know how to care for it.”
“Like Lenore?” Shelly said.
“Lenore would be perfect. But when I woke up, those two names came to me and I can't figure out why.”
Shelly whistled. “Maybe I can make Judd jealous of them too.”
“Maybe it was too much cinnamon bread last night, but I can't help thinking it means something.”
Judd and Lionel retreated to the back of the plane as Westin raced through warning that Z-Van was near. “You guys stay out of sight and they'll probably never notice you.”
Judd peeked into the main cabin after they were airborne and noticed that Z-Van's manager and his band members now had the mark of Carpathia. They joked and toasted each other.
Z-Van pulled out a piece of paper and asked for quiet. “His Excellency gave me this before we left. He even has a melody picked out for it.”
“He wrote this himself?” one of the band members said.
“Here's how it goes.” Z-Van lifted his head and closed his eyes, as if he were uttering something sacred.
Hail Carpathia, our lord and risen king;
Hail Carpathia, rules o'er everything.
We'll worship him until we die;
He's our beloved Nicolae.
Hail Carpathia, our lord and risen king
.
People in the room clapped and asked Z-Van to sing it again. Soon they all joined in with an off-key version of the hymn to the Antichrist.
Lionel shook his head. “I think we made a big mistake coming with these people.”
Two days later, Vicki and the others joined in the basement hideout as Mark called the kids together. He stood at the computer with an e-mail message opened. “This came on the Web site early this morning.”
Dear Young Tribulation Force
,
I need your help. My name is Claudia Zander. I was Natalie Bishop's roommate. Before she died, she talked with me about God. I didn't want to listen at first, but now that she's gone, I think what she said might be true.
She told me not to take the mark of Carpathia, and I've only got a few more days to comply
.
Please write back
.
Claudia
Mark looked at Vicki. “Did Natalie really have a roommate?”
Vicki nodded. “Natalie said she was a rabid follower of Carpathia.”
“Then it must be a trick,” Conrad said.
Vicki pursed her lips. “What if it isn't? Can we afford to not try and help her?”
Judd and Lionel walked the streets of Tel Aviv, where the GC planned to open the first loyalty mark application site to the public. It was a festive atmosphere, almost like a carnival, as people gawked at the sub-potentates' vehicles on their way to meet with Carpathia.
Judd couldn't wait to get to Jerusalem to see Sam and Mr. Stein, but Westin had convinced them to stay until the whole group went there. “You don't want to miss Z-Van's debut of his new songs, right?”
Judd had rolled his eyes. The thought of more songs devoted to praising Carpathia turned his stomach. What he really wanted to see was the man who would stand up to Carpathia, as foretold in Scripture. Though Judd didn't know for sure, he suspected it would be Tsion Ben-Judah, and he wondered if the man might spare a few moments with him.
The streets were packed with people from all over the world waiting to see the risen potentate in person. People spoke in different languages and were animated about what would happen in Jerusalem. Some said Carpathia would destroy the Judah-ites the same way he had the two prophets, Eli and Moishe. Others said there were massive protests planned by Judah-ites and Orthodox Jews and that a special weapon was being shipped to Jerusalem to annihilate anyone who came against the Global Community's chosen one.
“Why do they need a weapon when they have god himself,” one woman said, “and his right-hand man, the Most High Reverend Fortunato?”
Streets clogged with cars and pedestrians. Judd and Lionel followed the crowds to the seashore, where an amphitheater had been quickly constructed. One area was overrun with people standing in line, and Judd went for a closer look. He wasn't surprised to find it was the site where citizens would take Carpathia's mark.
Judd and Lionel skirted the masses and stood on the shore where they could see the stage and not be hemmed in by the crowds. A few minutes later, a caravan of cars pulled up and the most powerful people in the world walked onto the platform. The crowd went wild.
Nicolae Carpathia thanked everyone for welcoming them so warmly. He talked about the improvements in the world since the Global Community had come into existence and said that he felt a renewed energy for the task ahead.
The crowd laughed when Nicolae attributed his vigor to the “three days of the best sleep I've ever had.” They cheered again when the potentate said there would be a special musical presentation by the most popular entertainer in the world.
First, he introduced Leon Fortunato, head of all Carpathia worship. Leon knelt and kissed Nicolae's hand, then moved to the podium. “Allow me to teach you a new anthem that focuses on the one who died for us and now lives for us.”
“Uh-oh, here it comes.” Lionel sighed.
The crowd quickly picked up the lyrics to “Hail Carpathia, Our Lord and Risen King” and sang along. Judd turned when he noticed a loud droning and saw a sleek aircraft heading over the city toward the site.
“As you can tell,” Carpathia said, taking the podium again, “we have another surprise for you. The plane you see in the distance carries not only the equipment needed for this site, but also a brief display of its capabilities, ably demonstrated by the pilot of my own Phoenix 216, Captain Mac McCullum. Enjoy.”
With that, Carpathia stepped back and was surrounded by the other sub-potentates at the back of the stage. The jet screamed over the crowd, very low and fast, and surged toward the Mediterranean Sea.
“I guess Mac is still employed by the GC,” Lionel whispered. “Wonder when he'll leave?”
The plane flew so low it looked like it skimmed the water, then turned and flew over the stage. Judd noticed that a few of the sub-potentates wanted to duck, but they kept their places, squinting to see the plane speed past.
The plane eventually flew out over the water and shot straight up. When it reached the peak of its climb, it seemed to stop in midair and drift toward the ground.
“Something's not right,” Lionel said.
The nose of the plane turned and plunged toward the water at a frightening speed. People around Judd laughed and pointed, thinking this was part of the show. “Pull out, pull out,” Judd whispered as the plane rocketed toward earth.
But it did not pull out. The plane, a technological marvel of the Global Community, slammed into the beach at hundreds of miles an hour. The shock of seeing the sure death of Mac McCullum and his crew, along with the explosion of the aircraft itself, sent Judd to his knees.
“Please, God, not another death among the Tribulation Force.”