Soon (36 page)

“So,” Juliet Peters said, as the waiters came around with dessert, “have we all been sufficiently warned of the judgment of God?”

She smiled and sipped water from her glass.

The others laughed.

“Yes,” Ranold said, sounding on the verge of a guffaw, “better stock up on water!”

“Indeed,” Allendo said. “I bought extra-long straws so we can drink out of the pool if necessary.”

Paul could hear the rush of the fountain from the front of the house, which showed high above the roof, and the splashing of the young women in the pool.
Spare us,
he prayed.

Bia Balaam locked eyes with Paul, but he tore his gaze away, fearing she could read his thoughts. As if sensing his anxiety, Jae grabbed Paul’s hand under the table.

Juliet Peters coughed. Someone cried out, and Paul looked up just in time to see one of the women at the pool plunge down a slide and slam into the dry bottom with a sickening thud. Her friends screamed.

The fountain had ceased.

The water glasses on the table were not only empty but also dry. Even the sweat on the glass serving pitchers was gone.

Tiny Allendo jumped up so quickly his chair pitched backward. He stared at the pool, then whirled and looked at the fountain.

Paul studied the table. Even the liquid in the food had evaporated. The fruit tart had shriveled. The sorbet was colored powder. The wineglasses held a gooey residue.

Tiny’s voice sounded weak and timid. “Bottled water!” he croaked.

Waiters ran into the house, then came out, looking stricken. “The bottles are unopened, sir, but empty.”

Paul looked at the grass on the beautiful sprawling lawn under the lights. It was withering. By tomorrow it would be brown.

Balaam was on her feet, tottering out to her vehicle in her heels. Ranold stood, fingers fluttering, lips trembling. Tiny called out to his people, “Get to the store! Bring back all the water you can!”

But Paul knew what they would find. More empty bottles. God had more than answered the prayers of the faithful. He had done more than shut off the water supply to Los Angeles.

The mighty Lord and Creator of the universe had withdrawn every drop of water in the wicked city. The word would spread throughout the land, and underground believers would rise up with confidence and strength, boldly proclaiming the message of faith. The powers that be would stop killing the people of God, or they would all wither like the grass and die.

The miracle would be known around the world within minutes. To those aboveground, it marked the beginning of what would become known as the Christian Guerilla War. To those underground, this was clearly the beginning of the end, the mark of what—and who—would be coming.

Soon.