The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) (14 page)

“You already knew, all of you?  Mike told you?” she asked.  And they nodded
yes
.

“He couldn't keep lying to us,” said Sandra, “It's not something he does easily, so he took a chance that we would understand.  And we did.  It's not good to keep secrets from family.”

Uma had listened to it all, and was calm by the time Mike came back in with the kids carrying things they had made with Brady's help in his workshop.  Brady stood behind Uma, putting his hand on her shoulder to give her comfort.  Cal asked him if he had problems dealing with everyone's beliefs especially in connection with what was going on.

“I've always been a believer,” said Brady, “but I didn't want to say anything because I didn't think Uma would like it.  C'mon, my name's McFarland.  I've been a closet Catholic our whole life together.”

Uma's mouth dropped in disbelief about the same time the kids unveiled their surprises.  Apparently Brady had kept them busy in his workshop for hours.  They had made five wreaths woven from grape vines which had been stripped of leaves and polished to a lovely patina.  On each wreath hung five carved wooden mittens with each of the five children's names and birth dates burnished onto the centers. 

“We are going to make new mittens for every baby born in our families,” said David.  “We couldn't make Jonah's yet because we don't know his birthday.”

“I love it,” said Ruthie, “This explains all those little scraped fingers over the past weeks.”

“I’ going to leave mine out all year,” said Abigail, “This is a great reminder of all of you, and it's so beautifully made.”

The children beamed with pride as comments and praise continued over their workmanship until Cal mentioned that Mass was about to start. 

They gathered in front of the television with all the solemnity as though they were in a church.  Uma dimmed the lights and lit candles throughout the room as she prepared to attend her first ever celebration of Christmas Eve Mass.  They watched the screen as Italian children carried a priceless statue of the infant down the red-carpeted aisle to an exquisite bisque creche in an elaborate procession amidst the grandeur of a papal Mass.  

Claudia placed the wooden baby Jesus carried on a worn throw pillow to a willow stable under the tree decorated with home-made ornaments of pine cones, paper, and bits of cloth.  She did it with every bit of reverence as any celebrant in a grand cathedral.  Uma took her cues from the rest of the family who voiced the prayer responses from memory.  Mike provided her a missal to help her to follow the order of things, but it takes a little time and practice to master the ritual.

She listened to the pope's homily as it was translated into English, while Cal listened to both languages simultaneously.  Every one of them felt as if the Holy Father must have had some prophetic knowledge of the events which were to come.  He spoke of an urgent need for prayer and a serious world crisis of which Christ was our only hope of survival.  Perhaps the topic of the world ending was not one which hadn't been addressed from the pulpit many times before, but on this night it held special meaning, at least for this group in the McFarland living room.   They bowed their heads at the consecration of the bread and wine, and though they could not receive at that time, they opened their hearts to receive him spiritually into their hearts. 

Uma peeked at the screen to see thousands of people bowing in the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome.  They crossed their arms over their hearts during the distribution of communion.  It was amazing to think that she had joined all of them in believing, in becoming a follower of Christ.  Uma had always been an all-or-nothing kind of girl.  Now accepting God, she immediately accepted Christ, along with Catholicism, although she didn't completely understand it.  She cried silent tears of happiness, determined to learn about her new found faith. 

By the end of Mass, the littlest children were asleep and unable to ride their bicycles home.  Uma begged to let them sleep overnight on the couches in her living room.  She covered them with quilts from the cupboard, then took their stockings from the fireplace mantle and placed them beside their make-shift beds so they would see them as soon as they awakened.  Brady promised to watch them ride home first thing in the morning to open presents under their own trees. 

As the group dispersed on the McFarland porch to mount their bikes and head home, their handlebar baskets laden with gifts on the way up the hillside path.  When they reached the turn into their lake community, they saw that they had acquired a vast number of new neighbors during the party.  More than a dozen moving vans were parked at the pre-fabricated homes nearest their encampment, and families were busily unloading furniture and boxes.  These were the families of the servicemen which worked inside the mountain facility. 

As the Edwards and Decker families were settling in for the night, Cal received an urgent phone call from Agent Foley.  An urgent need for his skills had arisen.  The chatter was incessantly coming from multiple sources in varied languages.  Twenty-five nuclear plants had been hit in quick succession beginning at midnight as Christmas Eve parties were being enjoyed by American families all over the east coast.  The power was out over half the nation.  Cal could only imagine the shock and horror for all those families thrown into utter panic on the holiest of nights. 

When Cal arrived at the computer room he went to his station and put on his headphones, but his eyes could not stop watching the giant-screened monitor on the front wall of the room.  Everyone else seemed to be looking at the same thing, though their fingers kept moving on their keyboards.  He gazed up at a ten foot display of the United States of America where nearly half the country showed blackouts.  Twenty-five circles were lit, indicating the nuclear sites that had been lit.  When he stood, he was able to see the twenty-five monitors among the cubicles surrounding him that displayed live-action video of armed combat occurring at each of the plant sites.  Several burst into bright white in fast succession.  Their corresponding circles on the large wall monitor began to flash with bright red lights.  These were ones that had resulted in hydrogen bomb explosions.  The red began to display concentric circles in shades of orange indicating the miles of utter destruction followed by yellow areas representing degrees of damage.

Cal began translating one audio file at a time labeling each by the location of the transmission source.  Dozens of audio files cheered jubilant victory messages, but they were mixed with orders from military leaders, and all would need to be reviewed before sense could be made from the mess.  Cal was working at top speed, but even he could not keep up with the numbers of files that kept pouring in.  He began sorting more common languages to other computer stations.  His work load lessened as some of the feeds went dead.  The ones at plants that had been destroyed, that had become vast blackened holes in the ground.

New York City was gone, as were New Hampshire, Connecticut, Maryland, and New Jersey.    The east quickly became a vast void with no sign of activity.  Where people alive there still?  It was possible if they had been hiding safely away in basements.  But they had not been.  They were celebrating at family gatherings or snuggled in their beds awaiting Christmas morning or staying up late to put the finishing touches on some special surprise.  Cal silently fumed at the thought that they had not been warned, and he could not understand why they hadn't been.

Was our government there amid the emptiness, functioning from some underground safe location?  Did the president, his cabinet members, and the Congress know these details, too?  Were they watching a similar screen in horror?  Were they in communication with headquarters here?  These things he did not know.   He had always performed his work with speed and precision unhampered by emotion.  But now that was difficult to do, imagining the dead and suffering humans represented by the colored circles on his monitor.

Then he saw the light as it began flashing for Las Vegas, and this alarmed him, as it was less than six-hundred-fifty miles away.   He heard sirens as their community was being warned to evacuate for protection against radioactive fallout.  Vehicles were dispatched to meet with the lake residents and bring them to living quarters inside the mountain.  The children would not awake to gifts under their trees.  They would find themselves on cots in a large dormitory with two thousand roommates.  The Edwards, Deckers, and McFarlands as well as the Callahans would be among them.

The three children sleeping at the McFarland lodge were awakened by the sirens and were helped outside to the jeep.  Brady called their parents and agreed to meet them at the facility.  Abigail drove the government van to pick up the families from the RV compound as they only had bikes and Cal had taken her car.  They were illegally seated without enough seat belts, but no one even cared.  The McFarland's had considered staying in their own basement, even offering to try to accommodate the whole group, but they realistically only had room for four—not fourteen.  By now they became one large family and being separated during this crisis was not an option given any thought.  They took their dogs along and were prepared to demand they be permitted to stay with them.  If necessary, all of them were willing to face incarceration rather than be parted from their fur-bearing family members.

They were directed to the dormitory floor by armed guards, which opened onto a sea of beds neatly made and completely unoccupied.  Abigail viewed it for what it appeared to be—a prison—but one that would save them all from the horror of death by radiation poisoning.  

Abigail walked through the corridors created by the rows of beds.  Making her way to the far wall, she moved around the perimeter until she found a large double-doorway.  It was bolted shut, but she could see from the window panel that inside awaited a large cafeteria with ample tables and an entire wall-length of stainless steel serving bays. 
This place had been planned for years,
she thought,
long before the most recent threat.  It might have been a facility left over from the cold war. 

Across the expanse of beds on the opposite wall another set of closed double-doors was being explored by a group of excited children tip-toeing to see inside the glass.  She heard them shrieking with delight about the television and game tables they saw inside.
Is it possible that the government thought of everything?  Even the anxiety of cooped-up children?
  The elevator to her right opened and a familiar face appeared.

“I just learned you'd been brought here,” said Agent Foley.  “This is ridiculous, even if they were following orders.  I can't understand someone bringing you here, knowing who your husband is.  Come with me, Abby.  You can be with Cal as long as you don't interfere with his work.  And the little fluffy thing can come, too,” he said, noticing she clutched the dog firmly against her chest.  “If anyone complains, say I personally gave permission.”

He reached to give Angel that familiar ear-rub which had caused her to love him so quickly.  Abigail decided that he must not be so bad if the dog thought so highly of him.

“All the secrets are out now,” he said as they stepped inside and the doors closed.  “The entire world knows what has happened.”

He took her up to the computer room floor and directed her to where she found Cal in his cubicle.  He twisted in his desk chair and opened his arm for an embrace but was intently listening through headphones to something alarming.  He typed a message quickly then sent it to authorities, flagging it as urgent.  Finally, he whipped off his headgear and turned to face Abigail.

“I know why we've been spared,” he said, “why most of this region has been spared.  They want the natural gas and oil here.  They plan to set up their new nation right here on top of us.”

The all clear chirping noise sounded, and though that normally would have signaled relief in Abigail's ears, she still heard Cal's words clearly inside her head. 
Right here on top of us.

It was good to know that the kids would soon be back in their homes and having Christmas. They would open their gifts, eat their candies, and enjoy what was left of the day, unless another alarm was to sound.

“Does that mean everyone can go home?” asked Abigail, trying not to interfere, only asking when Cal seemed to be at a stopping point.

“The winds shifted,” he said.  “After the strike on Las Vegas, the radiation was headed right for us.  Then without explanation, they turned back towards California.  I guess we know what happened, right Abby?”

“God is protecting us,” she said matter-of-factly, “but what about the people in California?  What about those people?”