Hunted (6 page)

“What were they doing there?” Sam said.

“Hiding. They had not taken the mark of Carpathia and had just become believers a few days earlier. Some people had discovered their hiding place, and they were afraid the GC was coming the next morning. I got them to a safe place before the sun rose.”

Mr. Stein patted Sabir's arm. “God has you where he wants you for now, but if you feel in danger, please let us know.”

Sabir gave Sam and Mr. Stein final directions and drove away. The sun had set as the two walked through alleys and narrow walkways. A poster caught Sam's eye, and he stopped to examine it. “See the Miraculous Power of Orcus!” The poster gave the date and time, and Sam realized the performance would be that very night.

“I don't like the looks of that,” Mr. Stein said, glancing at his watch. “Come on, we only have a few minutes.”

Sam was shocked at the difference between the safety he felt in Petra and the evil he sensed in Tel Aviv. The few people they saw in darkened alleys and walkways moved with heads down, fear etched on their faces.

When they reached the meeting place, a public park, Sam and Mr. Stein waited until the correct time and gingerly moved into the open. A block away a stage had been set up with lasers flashing and music blaring. Sam guessed that Aron Ben-Eliezar had picked this place because of the crowds. It would be easier to blend in with thousands than to meet in a private place.

Mr. Stein motioned toward a small fountain, and they sat on a bench, studying the growing mob swarming toward the stage. In the distance, young people whooped and hollered, chanting Carpathia's name and falling in front of a statue suspended above the crowd.

“Aron should be here by now,” Sam whispered.

Something beeped to Sam's right, and he noticed a small mound covered by leaves and grass. Sam shoved the debris away and found a walkie-talkie on the ground.

“Okay, pick up the radio and move to your right,” a scratchy voice said.

Sam picked up the walkie-talkie and walked toward the street with Mr. Stein. Hundreds made their way toward the stage, and Sam pulled his hat low and tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Stop there,” the voice said when they reached the edge of the sidewalk. “Look up.”

Sam tilted his head and saw a curtain flutter on the third floor of the building in front of them. “Go to the back entrance and take the stairs. Don't let anyone see you come in.”

Sam and Mr. Stein followed the directions. The stairwell had a huge crack in the wall, and plaster was falling onto the steps. When they entered a hallway, a door opened at the other end. Mr. Stein whispered a prayer as they walked toward the open door. Once inside, the door closed and a thin man with a beard stepped forward. He had a bandage on his forehead, but there was no mark of Carpathia on his right hand.

Sam introduced himself and Mr. Stein, and the man stared at them. “I didn't know you were a kid.” The man looked at Mr. Stein. “You really know my parents are safe in Petra?”

“Rabbi Ben-Eliezar accompanied us to Masada before going on to Petra,” Mr. Stein said. “We have not told them we made contact with you. Are you Aron or Joel?”

“Joel.”

“Where is your brother?”

Joel moved to the front window and opened the curtain a few inches. “Don't worry about him. Tell me about my parents.”

Mr. Stein told him how he had met the Ben-Eliezars, their concern about their sons, and how they had tried repeatedly to contact them. Joel bit his lip as he listened, his eyes turning to the window.

When Mr. Stein carefully described how they had believed in the message about Jesus, Joel shook his head. “That is the part I can't accept.”

“It is true. It is why we have come all this way at such personal risk. We want to tell you the truth about God.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “I have no need to believe in God. There is a scientific explanation for all the questions we have.”

“Even with everything that's happened?” Sam said. “The disappearances, the earthquake, the—”

“People believe in God because they've been told to. They have an emotional attachment to their faith because it helps them get through. It helps them deal with their pain. I rely on myself and hard work. If a crisis comes, like an earthquake or another natural disaster, I try harder.”

“And what if all your efforts are striving after wind?” Mr. Stein said. “What if you come to the end and find you cannot try harder?”

Joel glared at Mr. Stein. “The only comfort we have in life is to know we have done something worthwhile. We've tried to think independently and struggled to improve the world.”

“What happens after you die?” Sam said.

“Nothing. It's over. You get one chance to make a difference and that's it.”

“With everything going on in the world, and with Nicolae executing people without his mark,” Mr. Stein said, “does it not make you consider placing your faith in the true God?”

“I have faith in myself that I can improve the world. Outside of that, I have no use for faith.”

The door opened and a man who looked slightly younger than Joel came in, breathless. “It's about to start.”

Joel introduced his brother, and Aron shook hands with Mr. Stein and Sam. Sam studied his face and hand and didn't see any sign of Carpathia's mark. Mr. Stein repeated the information about his parents, but Joel stopped him. “I want to see how they begin this. Go in the next room.”

The window of the shabby apartment faced the stage. Joel grabbed binoculars and watched the introduction of guests as Sam and Mr. Stein went into the bedroom with Aron.

Aron paced as Mr. Stein and Sam sat. “My parents are all right?” he said.

Sam nodded. “Why haven't you answered them?”

“Things have been happening. I came to live with my brother here in Tel Aviv shortly after the Global Community went after those people in the desert. We have tried to exist since then, but my brother, he is not well… .”

“Are you open to hearing the truth we have discovered?” Mr. Stein said.

“Perhaps,” Aron said. He turned and leaned against the wall. “Ever since Joel took the mark, he has regretted the decision.”

Mr. Stein stood. “He took the mark of Carpathia?”

“Yes, though he didn't worship the image.”

“Listen to me carefully,” Mr. Stein said. “Your soul is at stake. Your brother has made a decision he will regret for eternity. Why haven't you taken the mark?”

“I was hungry. You need it to buy anything. But something seemed wrong about it—not just taking an identification number, but actually identifying yourself with Carpathia.”

“You were right not to take it. Now let me tell you why.”

Mr. Stein began with an overview of how sin began in the perfect world God had created. The evil one tempted humans, and they chose against God's way. “Throughout the Bible, Satan has opposed God. Now, in these last days, Satan is trying to destroy, just like he has always done. Nicolae Carpathia is the ultimate evil and will stop at nothing to thwart God's plan for good.”

“What is that plan?” Aron said.

“To save people from their sins. God sent his own Son to die as a sacrifice for you and me. If we put our trust in Jesus, the Messiah, and ask him to forgive us from our sins, God will do that. Those who were taken in the disappearances, like your sister, Meira, were ones who believed the truth about Jesus. But there is still time to choose—”

“Come and see this,” Joel yelled from the next room. “Hurry!”

Sam rushed to the front window and squinted. In the distance a huge monitor showed two men wielding swords that were as long as Sam was tall. The fight seemed staged, but the sound of the steel blades striking each other was real. Finally, one of the men ducked and made a move to his left, avoiding the razor-sharp blade by inches, and struck a blow to the other man's right arm. The crowd gasped as the first man staggered, his severed arm dropping to the stage with a sickening thud.

Blood gushed from the wound, and people near the stage fell back, screaming. The injured man's sword fell, and he slipped to his knees, trying to stop the fatal flow of blood. His opponent held up his sword with both hands and the crowd cheered, encouraging him to finish the injured man.

“It's like watching the Roman gladiators,” Sam muttered.

Suddenly a curtain parted, and a man stepped forward. He wore normal-looking clothes, and his hair reached his shoulders. Sam noticed his eyes, which seemed to bore into the man with the severed arm. The long-haired man stooped and picked up the limb from the stage.

The crowd hushed. The hero worship for the winner turned to silence as the man placed the severed arm back in place, grasped it with both hands at the point of the injury, and said, “I have been given power by the potentate. Therefore, under the authority of the risen lord, Nicolae Carpathia, I pronounce this wound healed.”

The injured man lifted his once-severed arm and raised a bloody fist above his head. “It's back! He healed my arm!”

6

DID
they do that with mirrors?” Sam said, his mouth still open at what he had just seen.

“It has to be a trick,” Aron said.

Mr. Stein shook his head. “It is real power, but not the power of God. It is the power of the evil one.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “You mean Bible hocus-pocus?”

“Do not be deceived. You're seeing Scripture come to life. Leon Fortunato calls down fire from heaven by the power of Nicolae. This faker may attempt other miracles tonight to mock God.”

The man with the healed arm picked up his sword and raised it in triumph with his new arm. People near the stage fell to their knees and worshiped the miracle worker.

“Do not praise me, for I am only one sent by god,” Orcus said as he pointed to the statue of Nicolae. “I am simply his servant. Turn your affection to the one who has the power of life and death and who lives to serve you.”

“Praise lord Carpathia!” the healed man said.

“Praise him!” the crowd shouted.

Smoke billowed from the image hovering over the crowd, and everyone lay down before it. Muffled praise rose from the people, and some began singing “Hail Carpathia.”

When Orcus raised a hand, everyone quieted. “Your praise has been heard, and I assure you, lord Carpathia appreciates your reverence tonight. And to show you how much he loves you—” he swept his hand forward—“let there be light!”

A great flash of white light bathed the audience. Instead of night, it seemed like day. Sam shielded his eyes and studied the lasers backstage. The light wasn't coming from them but from overhead.

Joel rubbed his forehead so hard that the bandage came off. Sam saw the mark of Carpathia beside scratches and blotched skin. “I've tried to get this off with sandpaper, even tried to cut the skin. But maybe Orcus is right. If he can do these things by the power of Nicolae …”

“I need to talk to you now,” Mr. Stein whispered to Aron.

Sam followed and Mr. Stein closed the door. “Your father and mother did not want to believe what I told them about God. But after I explained what the Bible says and they heard Dr. Ben-Judah, their eyes were opened. They understood God wanted a relationship with them and that the only way to escape the judgment coming upon this world was to receive the gift of Jesus Christ.”

Aron sat and ran a hand through his hair. “I've wanted these past three years to be a bad dream. When you wrote, I thought you were mistaken. My parents could never turn their backs on their Jewish faith—”

“They haven't. Jesus came to fulfill everything the Bible predicted.”

With that, Mr. Stein walked Aron through the many prophecies foretelling the coming Messiah. These showed clearly that Jesus had uniquely fulfilled each prophecy and was truly the Son of God. Aron focused on Mr. Stein's words and nodded, asking questions and listening carefully. “If what you're saying is true, my brother has no hope.”

“You are right. Once a person voluntarily takes the mark, their eternity is sealed.”

“Even if he took it to help me?”

Mr. Stein knelt before Aron. “Don't let your brother's choice affect your destiny. You will not be called to account for his decision. Accept the gift God is offering now.”

“Look at this!” Joel shouted from the other room.

Sam ran into the other room with the others and looked out the window. The miracle worker had moved into the crowd and held both swords high above his head. The crowd parted as he walked. “Don't imagine that I have come to bring a sword to divide people. No, like Nicolae, I have come to bring peace.”

Instantly, the swords turned into doves, which flew over the crowd. People
ooh
ed and
ahh
ed as the birds circled Orcus. “The enemies of our god want us to war and fight with each other. They are like snakes in our midst.” The man clapped, and the birds stopped flapping and fell, quickly turning into long, hissing snakes. The miracle worker caught both snakes and held them high so everyone could see. People moved back, some shrieking and fainting.

“There are snakes among us, but our god has helped us identify them. Anyone without the mark of loyalty to the potentate is an enemy of peace. Look around you now and make sure there are no snakes here.”

“Over there!” someone screamed. Spotlights swung wildly and stopped on a woman cowering next to a tree. Suddenly, the miracle worker was next to her, both snakes hissing in his hands.

“How did he get over there so fast?” Sam mumbled.

“Are you an enemy of the most high god?” the miracle worker screamed.

The woman trembled and people around her scattered, forming a thirty-foot human ring. Orcus held the snakes higher and asked again if she was an enemy, waving the snakes violently until they became swords again.

“I am Jewish,” the woman said, her voice shaking. “I'm not against peace, but I don't want—”