Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins,Tim LaHaye
Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian
At least,
Judd thought,
she knows the truth now.
L
IONEL
Washington could barely breathe as he sneaked up to the driveway at the side of his own house. He peered into the basement window where he and his uncle André had shared the foldout couch just two nights before, the night of the vanishings all over the world.
Someone appeared to be setting up housekeeping down there. Lionel saw boxes of food, piles of strange clothes, a fan, a clock, a small bedside stand. Who thought they were free to move into his house, just because the rest of his family was gone? He thought he would find people taking stuff away, not moving stuff in.
Two men about Lionel’s uncle’s age burst from the door in a trot, heading toward the van. Lionel was startled but scampered back to behind the corner of the house before they noticed him. “This is going to be great,” one
of them said. “This is a good way for André to work off his debt.”
“You gonna let him stay here?”
The other laughed. “He’s the one who put us onto this place, man! ’Course he can stay here. Long as he behaves himself.”
They were both laughing now as the door slapped shut behind them. While they were busy in the van, Lionel slipped into the house and up the stairs. Three or four other people were inside, but they ignored him. What was this, anyway?
Clearly, these people were moving in, taking over the house as if it were their own. The piles of clothes that had been the only remaining evidence of the other members of Lionel’s family had already been gathered up and put somewhere. Lionel bounded down the stairs to see if his father’s pajamas and robe and slippers were gone too.
At the bottom of the stairs he was met by the two who had gone out to the van. He recognized them as André’s so-called friends, the ones he said he owed money. “Well, if it ain’t the nephew!” the taller one said. “What’s your name again?”
Lionel was not as brave as he tried to sound. “My name’s Washington, and this is my house.”
“Is it now? You own this place?”
“My family does.”
“But your family is gone, ain’t it?”
“So what?”
“So you need someone to look out for you and take care of the place, and that’s what we’re going to do for you. And no charge.”
“Says who?”
“Says us, punk, so watch your mouth. André told us everybody but you disappeared from this place. He’s got seniority in the family now.”
“What’s that mean?”
“That means of the only two people left who can claim this place, he’s the oldest. I mean, he is older than you, ain’t he?”
“’Course.”
“Well, there you go.”
“So where
is
my uncle André?”
“He’s around.”
“How do you know?”
“He owes us money, that’s how we know. He’ll show up here, and he’ll let us stay until he pays. We know he’ll never pay. Why should he? This is the best deal for him and for us.”
Lionel wanted to ask them what they would say if he told them André was dead. But he didn’t want to give that away yet. When he said nothing, the shorter guy said, “Don’t worry, little dude. You can stay here
too. Just stay out of our way and keep your mouth shut.”
“In my own house?”
“You’d better get used to the fact that this is not your house anymore, kid.”
“What if I call the police?”
“You think the police have time to worry about you right now? We could kill you and bury you and leave a pile of your clothes on a chair, and they’d believe you were one of those people who disappeared. Trust me, boy, you’re better off with a place to stay. We’ll even let you eat, maybe teach you the business.”
“The business?”
“The business of makin’ money, son.”
“Crime, you mean?”
“To some people. To us it’s business. You can get in on the ground floor. What do you say?”
Lionel was afraid of what they might do if he tried to kick them out. He didn’t want them to know he had no intention of staying with them. He just shrugged and trotted back upstairs. He filled his dad’s old canvas duffel bag with everything—and more than—he thought he’d ever need, and he lugged it downstairs.
“Pick your own place to crash, dude,” the taller one said. “After all, this
was
your house.”
“It still is!” Lionel yelled as he ran past them and out the door. He was shocked that they ignored him. No one even tried to catch him as he raced down the driveway, into the alley, and back toward the bikes, where he hoped Ryan was standing guard. The bikes were there. Ryan wasn’t.
“Wait here, please,” Vicki Byrne told Judd. She stepped out of the car and stood staring at the pile of rubble that had once been her home. She was puzzled at her own reaction. How she had once hated this place! It was too small, too dingy. It told the world she was poor, that her family was of little account, that she was trailer trash.
That very trailer had made her resent people who lived in normal homes, let alone rich people who lived in large houses. She had assumed all kinds of evil things about people who seemed above her in society. She didn’t know if it was true that they were mean and nasty and selfish, but it made her feel a little better to think they were not worthy of whatever they had and she didn’t.
But now, as she stood in the cool of the morning, staring at the slowly rising smoke
and smelling the acrid fumes, she was overcome with a longing for that little trailer house. She remembered how it looked, how it smelled, how it creaked when she walked through it. She had even learned where to step to keep from making noise when she tried to sneak in after curfew.
That seemed so long ago now, but it had been just two nights before that she thought she had gotten away with something. She had sneaked in late and thought her parents were asleep. Only later did she realize that they and her little sister and her big brother in Michigan had been among those who had disappeared before midnight Chicago time.
Was it only her realization that they had been right about God that made her feel sentimental toward a place she used to hate? Or was it just her fatigue and grief over the loss of her family that put them in a new light? She knew it was all that and more. She had finally come to see that she had been wrong about God. She knew she had been a sinner and that she needed him. And when she had committed her life to him, he began right away to change how she felt about things. She saw what a fool she had been, what an ungrateful rebel. How could she have been so blind? What had been her problem?
She had not wanted to admit that her par
ents had really changed, but it was obvious to everyone, herself included. She had been so determined to hang on, to control her own life, that she refused to let anyone know she even noticed the difference. That was what hurt her the most as she gazed at the remains of everything she owned except the clothes she was wearing.
What a strange feeling that was, knowing she would have to start over from scratch. No clothes. No belongings. No nothing.
She turned slowly and moved back toward Judd’s car. She had never hung with anyone who drove such a nice car, certainly not a sixteen-year-old. So far Judd had seemed to fit the rich-kid mold she had imagined, but there were good and nice and kind parts to him too. And like he had said, they were now brother and sister in Christ. She’d better learn to like and trust him, she decided. With not a possession to her name, she was probably going to have to depend on him for a while.
“Are you all right?” he asked when she slid back into the car.
She shrugged. “I guess. I’m not sure what else can go wrong.”
“You’re going to have to stay with me, you know,” he said.
“Oh, Judd, I couldn’t expect you to do that for me.”
“I’d give you your privacy and everything. I mean, I wouldn’t take advantage or do anything wrong or—”
“I know. But I just couldn’t—”
“Sure you could. You have no choice.”
“Someone here will give me a place to stay.”
“No, no I insist. I have money and credit cards. My dad has some bank accounts, and I know he’d want me to use them to survive.”
“Judd, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course it does. You need clothes, stuff, a place to live, food.”
“But why should I expect that from you?”
“You think God is going to take care of you?”
“Now’s the best time to find out,” she said.
“Well, I’m how he’s going to do it.” Judd pulled slowly out of the trailer park.
“You’re what? And where are you going?”
“I’m what God will use to take care of you. You’re a Christian now, and he’s going to watch over you and make sure you’re taken care of. He’s going to use me to do that.”
“So you’re God’s guy now, his right hand man?”
“You could say that.”
“So, where are we going?”
“To my house.”
“Judd!”
“Just let me do this, Vicki. I really think God wants me to, and I’ll feel like I’m letting him down if I don’t.”
Vicki found that hard to argue with. Maybe she
was
supposed to let Judd do this. Maybe this really
was
God’s way of providing for her. “But if we stay in the same house, won’t we get tired of each other and start hating each other?”
“I doubt it,” Judd said, and Vicki was surprised. She really wasn’t sure what she thought of this guy. He was not her type, and she probably never would have given him a second glance before. But he was being nice now. And that had been a nice thing to say, that he doubted he would get tired of her.
But he didn’t know her either. He didn’t know how she could be. She was independent and crabby and grouchy and self- centered. At least she
had
been that way. Could it be that those were things God would start to change in her? Or would she have the same personality and character, but just be a Christian now? She wasn’t sure how it all worked, but she knew her parents had seemed different almost overnight.
She felt different; she knew that. Even with the fear and the dread of having lost everyone close to her in an instant, she found herself thinking of other people. Not every
second, and not every time. But in just the few short hours she had lived since deciding to become a Christian, she noticed some changes.
“I’ll check it out,” she told Judd. “I’ll see where you live and see if it would work for a short time. But I don’t plan on being in your way for long. And I can’t be sure it would work out at all.”
Judd nodded. Vicki could tell he wanted it to work. But maybe he was just afraid to be alone. That was all right. So was she. It would be good to have someone to talk to.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” she said, as Judd drove toward his house, “I’m starving and I’m exhausted. If you’ve got any food and a place for me to sleep, I’ll take it.”
“Coming right up,” Judd said.
Ryan Daley had panicked. He had stayed close enough to keep an eye on Lionel until Lionel had sneaked into the house. Ryan was sure Lionel would get himself kidnapped or shot or something, and then what would Ryan do? He felt like such a coward, trying to get out of doing anything dangerous. But he had just
lost his parents. How was he supposed to feel brave all of a sudden?
Ryan had crouched behind a neighbor’s garage with his and Lionel’s bikes. He didn’t know what he would do if Lionel called for help, but he stayed out of sight and ready anyway. He was startled when Lionel went in the house when the two older guys came out to get something from the van. When they went back in, Ryan was sure Lionel was in big trouble. When he didn’t come out for a while—and neither did the older two—Ryan was convinced something awful had happened.