The Remaining (21 page)

Spotlights illuminate the base of the bridge. There are hundreds, even thousands of people moving around, filing into the wharf where tents are set up and vehicles are parked. There are ambulances and semis that are open with supplies in them. Hundreds of cars are crowded around the area, but there are avenues open to the relief workers.

Tommy, Jack, and Sam are moving with the crowd. They see generators working and power
 
—sweet, glorious electricity lighting up this area and providing hope. Providing life.

A nurse stops them and tends Jack’s head wound, cleaning it up and bandaging it for a temporary fix. She tells
them to keep moving down the wharf, where there’s food and other supplies.

“I thought there wasn’t going to be a relief center,” Sam says. “I thought it was too good to be true.”

Tommy nods and agrees with her.

Me too.

Anything that offers a little light and hope seems too good to be true anymore.

The crowd murmurs and sounds a little more lifelike the farther they walk. Someone mentions that they’ve brought in chaplains. Tommy’s not sure what that means. He thinks of Pastor Shay, how he finally believed, and how he also volunteered to give himself up.

What a wonderful thing to do. But then again, the pastor believed he was going to a wonderful place.

A place where his family waited.

Tommy used to think it was a wonderful world. Like the song. He remembers hearing it at the wedding during one of the slow dances. He used to see skies of blue and clouds of white. But nothing is blessed and sacred anymore. Nothing is wonderful and barely anything is left of this world.

He pictures his friends and how they celebrated right before the end. How they smiled and laughed and danced and cheered a new love. A new day. A new life.

But they’re gone now.

The roar of helicopters sounds above their heads as they pass by relief tents to find one that might have room in
it for them. It feels like there’s a war going on and they’re finding shelter after being on the battlefront.

So what side are you on?

The words knock on his heart, working on his soul.

Where are you going and what are you going to do when you get there?

The questions haunt and prick and hurt.

If this is the end why are you still running so fast so far?

The words beat like drums and he breathes in and tries not to have to answer.

Tommy is still here. Still breathing. Still able to move. Still able to battle back.

He doesn’t plan to stop at any point. Yet the darkness sweeping overhead and the dim shadows sucking up his soul make everything so bleak and black and bitter.

They finally reach a tent where they find blankets and food. The smell of vegetable soup fills the air. People sit around, eating, resting, surviving.

It’s temporary hope, but for now, it’s glorious.

For fifteen minutes, the three of them sit with blankets around them while eating cups of hot soup and drinking bottled water. Such simple things
 
—things to bring them warmth and comfort
 
—aren’t taken for granted. Tommy knows the soup in the Styrofoam cup might be the best cup of soup he’s ever had. Ever.

People keep filing in and finding rest around them.
Stories can be heard of the same nightmares over and over again. Most seem too tired to manage anything more than a whisper. There’s a hushed sense of doom hovering over everybody.

“How’s your head?” Sam asks Jack.

“It’s fine.”

“Yeah, you always were hardheaded,” Tommy says.

“Please don’t give any speeches at my funeral,” Jack says with a wry smile.

“I won’t because that’s not going to be happening for a long time.”

Jack gives him a nod for the little bit of encouragement.

Once they’ve finished their soup Sam digs out her phone.

“I need you guys to see something.” It’s the video she tried to show Tommy earlier.

She wiggles between Jack and Tommy and presses Play.

There, on the screen, is Allison.

Beautiful, vibrant Allison, the woman both of the guys watching love. The one in the strapless violet dress and the messy dark hair.

You still looked beautiful even after the world ended.

Tommy knows a part of him doesn’t want to see this. He should just get up and walk away. It’d be better that way. Whatever Allison might be saying is something that might possibly haunt him for the rest of his life. However many years or months or days or hours he has. He thinks this, yet he stays still and silent.

“I need to tell you guys something,” Allison says, speaking directly at the phone. “And I’m saying this now because I’m afraid
 
—I’m afraid there might not be another chance to do this.”

She seems nervous as she takes a breath and steadies herself.

“I was wrong. I realize that now. I’ve spent my whole life telling myself I was spiritual and that was enough. Obviously that didn’t work out too well. But now I’ve found real faith. I made a real commitment. These demons
 
—they are trying to remove the Word of God from what’s left of the world.”

Tears fall down Allison’s cheeks yet she continues to stare at them and continues talking.

She was always strong. Always.

“Don’t you see? It has to be the truth
 
—even they recognize it. God’s words are the only thing that can save us. That’s why they have to destroy them. And they want to destroy us too if God’s Word is in us. It’s their biggest threat. And once we know the truth . . .”

She wipes a hand across her face to get rid of the tears.

“We all have a choice. We either choose to accept and believe and get life like we’ve never known it, or we choose to live our lives selfishly, ignoring God, and end up dying anyway.”

There’s a slight sound fluttering in the background. Allison turns her head around, a startled look on her face.

“We don’t have much time left on this earth,” she says in a hurried voice. “You have to make a decision.”

Now it’s a loud thumping that can be heard. She looks around again.

She knows.

She knows she’s about to die. Yet she’s still talking. She’s still making sure we hear what she has to say.

“I choose God,” Allison says. “What do you choose?”

She closes her eyes, knowing what’s next. Knowing and accepting and feeling strong enough to do so.

Tommy takes the phone and turns it off. He’s seen enough.

Seen enough. Heard enough. Gone through enough.

He doesn’t even hear Jack get up until he notices his friend standing along the side of the tent talking to a chaplain. They’re engrossed in some kind of serious discussion.

“She wanted you guys to see that,” Sam says.

“She always cared about others,” Tommy says. “Even to the very end, that’s what she was worried about. Us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I wasted so much time,” Tommy says.

“With what?”

He shakes his head. “With everything. With Allison. With my dreams. With . . .”

Tommy starts to say his faith but doesn’t. He can’t. He won’t.

Yet he still feels something inside. This restlessness, these voices, this nudging.

No, I’m tired and it’s just . . . It’s everything.

He ignores the feelings inside.

“You think we’re safe here?” Sam asks.

“I hope. Yeah, I think it’s over. I think we’ll be okay.”

He looks outside the opening of the tent. In the background is a massive fire pit. Tommy sees that men are throwing dead bodies into the flames.

As he sips his bottled water, Tommy thinks about the last twenty-four hours and specifically about everything that’s happened since this morning.

Skylar finding a Bible in the library and then being attacked on the street.

Pastor Shay finally praying a real prayer and giving a real sermon and becoming the real pastor he’d always meant to be. And then being killed in the church hallway.

Dan crying out to God. First in anger, then in fear and sadness and acceptance.

And finally Allison. Knowing and realizing and choosing in her last few moments.

All of them snatched and gutted and thrown away by the evil things out there.

Tommy suddenly has an amazing, awful realization that sends goose bumps all over his body and makes him seize up with fear. “They’re drawn to faith,” he says out loud.

“What?” Sam asks.

He looks at her, shaking his head, dumbfounded. “They’re drawn to faith.”

Of course.

Like a light in the darkness attracting moths, faith is the
thing they’re drawn to. Like blood to vampires. Like drugs to addicts. Like innocent souls to monsters.

Tommy looks around the tent again but can’t find Jack.

Oh no.

He can hear the light echo of fluttering again. He wonders if he’s imagining it but he doesn’t think so. “We need to find Jack.”

Can it be that simple? That easy? That one simple act and decision can lead to your demise?

He grabs Sam’s arm as he leads her out of the tent looking for their last remaining friend.

They find another tent, this one with a line of people all waiting to step up to a large, circular tub full of water and then . . .

Be baptized.

The chaplain Jack was talking to is up there and . . .

No no no please no.

It can’t happen this way, this quickly, this suddenly.

The fluttering sounds are getting louder now.

Just like always.

Not again please God no.

Then he sees a figure coming up out of the water, holding his breath, opening his eyes, smiling.

Jack is smiling.

It’s been some time since Tommy’s seen that smile.

“Jack!”

Tommy can’t believe this. It’s crazy. They weave through the crowd as they hear the words of the chaplain.

“Baptism is an outward sign of an inward commitment. It is also like taking the witness stand to declare the truth of the gospel to all who are present.”

The thumping and the high-pitched wailing are followed by sudden screams. Howls of horror from spectators and strangers around them.

Suddenly the chaplain is swatted like a bug and sent flying into the back of the tent. They still can’t see what did it but they can hear those nasty sounds, loud and horrific like massive bugs scampering all around them.

Jack is picked up.

Tommy tries to get to him but the crowd suddenly goes wild and disperses, knocking him down.

When Tommy looks up, Jack is hovering horizontal, several feet off the ground, the water dripping from him, his arms hanging down.

Tommy shouts Jack’s name again but his voice seems to be lost in the chaos. Jack is struggling to get free but can’t move. Something has him. Something is holding him up.

Then Jack’s body folds up like a flip phone. His legs snap right over his chest. There’s a violent, sickly cracking sound and a howling. Jack’s body is shaken for a moment, then thrown into the air over Tommy and everyone.

The whipping sounds cut into the air all around them like machine-gun fire ripping through the night. Tommy knows Jack is dead and knows he and Sam have to get out of here. He grabs her hand and they run.

His head is a gushing waterfall, his gut and soul falling
fragments. Everything races and rushes and nothing feels good.

They run. And they keep running.

The snapping sounds of Jack’s crushing bones and back run with him.

The relief center has now turned into a death zone. Everybody is running with nowhere to run to. Fires are breaking out. The living and the dead have become interchangeable. Any respite is now gone.

Tommy doesn’t let go of Sam’s hand even as she slips and falls. He keeps moving and drags her along. Scared, stampeding people smother them, yet they keep moving.

There’s still a way. There’s still hope.

Yet he knows every single soul around them realizes they’re all doomed.

They’re all going to die.

They’re running back toward the bridge when Sam suddenly stops and pulls Tommy to her.

“Come on,” he screams at her.

He lets go of her hand for a moment as she stands there while a sea of people flow all around them. For some insane reason she’s stopping.

“I can’t,” Sam says. “Not anymore.”

Tommy shakes his head. “What are you doing?”

“There’s only one way, Tommy. We have to make a choice. You know it. Allison did too. Even Jack did.”

Tommy just wants to run. He wants to run and turn his back on all this and keep running.

Like I’ve done my whole life.

“They made the right choice,” Sam says.

Tommy blinks and knows she’s just being honest. He doesn’t have to see anything more to realize it’s the truth.

Sam looks at Tommy while she tries to hold back tears. “The choice is ours, Tommy. It has been all along.”

She offers him a hand.

“There are other believers out there,” she says. “I’m gonna find them. We can find them. Before it’s too late.”

Tommy doesn’t take her hand, however.

He’s still resisting.

Still wanting to do it his way.

Still wanting to control things.

Sam gives him a mournful glance. She begins walking away.

“Don’t go,” he calls out. “We’re safer here. They’re attracted to faith.”

Her body starts to get lost in the crowd.

“Choose God, Tommy. Choose Christ. I choose. I believe. I ask for forgiveness for not believing when I should have.”

The thudding sound of wings surrounds them. There’s wailing and more screaming. The people around him cry out but Tommy can no longer see Sam.

He looks up to the skies.

They’ve begun to glow, turning bloodred. The clouds are parting like two thunderous doors opening.

Then comes the piercing, blaring noise.

It’s another trumpet. Another announcement of doom.

The skies continue to bleed out. Figures
 
—horrible, haunting things
 
—start to fill the sky. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them.

Spilling out.

Coming down.

Rushing down to them.

This is the end.

Tommy is alone now.

He stares at all these people running and cowering around him. All faceless, nameless, meaningless. All those who meant something to him are gone. Even the young, starry-eyed girl who followed him has disappeared.

Everybody is gone.

Why, God?

Why?

Why are You hounding me?

Why do You keep chasing after me?

Dizzy, Tommy wants to just fall down. To sleep. To go away. To make it all go away.

The noise around him begins to fade. The commotion and chaos begin to close down.

But the questions inside continue.

Did You create all of this only to break it?

Did You make something only to mess it all back up?

But the answers come right after the questions.

The answers resound inside. In his mind and his heart.

He hears Allison’s words.

“We either choose to accept and believe and get life or we end up dying anyway.”

Tommy knows God didn’t cause this evil in the world. It was everybody else who did that.

It’s me.

He couldn’t have cared less for God his whole life, and he still wonders. He still doesn’t know. Isn’t sure. Doesn’t quite understand.

After all this carnage and chaos, Tommy still has doubts.

Doubting Thomas. That’s who I am.

But his heart and soul long for something. For some kind of meaning. For something deeper. For the kind of deep love and grace that his friends all found before the end.

He’s afraid of the skies, the ground, the way his heart pounds. Of this pitch-black night and the hovering shadows inside it. His knees fall to the dirt beneath him. His hands feel good clenched as tight as they can be. His eyes are wide open without blinking.

Are You really up there watching? Do You really care?

This tiny place. Is this where it all ends? Or . . .

Is it where it finally begins?

Tommy hears it calling after him. The peace, the love, the hope.

There’s still time. There’s still a chance. You can still choose.

From somewhere, a surge of something begins to fill him.

He’s been running for so long. Trying. Ignoring. Burning. Wondering.

God, is there a place up there for me?

A breath exhaled. Heavy, hurting.

God would You really love me? Have You always loved me?

Tommy no longer feels foolish for praying these prayers. The world has ended and there’s no time and no need to feel ashamed anymore. Pride has been tossed out the broken back window. He still doesn’t know. He’s still not so sure that he can do this. That God will really love him and accept him and . . .

Save me.

But he swallows and feels his dry mouth and he decides to speak his words out loud.

“God, please save me. I’m sorry. For ignoring You. For not listening. For not caring. Please save me. I need You. I can’t
 
—there’s nothing else. Nothing left. I have nothing. I need You.”

Tommy shivers. Closes his eyes and wipes the tears away.

There are more screams now. More running feet and ransacking tents and fires raging all around.

But for Tommy, there’s silence in his soul. A peaceful sort of quiet.

“I need You now.”

His bones ache. He feels something. But more than that, it’s what he
doesn’t
feel. Something leaves. Something
 
—a whole lot of somethings
 
—suddenly leave those legs and shoulders and muscles and bones. The weary world decides to finally depart. The weight clawing at his conscience finally dissolves.

He feels . . .

Free.

For a moment. For just a moment. But it’s okay.

It’s okay.

He knows God does love and does accept him. Yes. Sure. Of course it’s crazy and he doesn’t understand other than knowing that he feels lighter. He feels like someone who can finally stand up. Stand strong.

Stand right.

So he does.

Tommy breathes out a sigh of relief and stands up and sees the nightmare unfolding all around him. But the eyes he looks through are different now.

Sometimes it has seemed like his whole life revolved around watching and waiting. Watching for the right moment, waiting for the right memory to capture.

Hoping for that perfect minute where everything finally comes together.

But Tommy knows now that moment was always there for the taking. He was just too stubborn and stupid and self-satisfied to ever fully embrace it.

Until now.

The pandemonium around him makes him want to run. But he knows he no longer has to.

They’re coming for him. They will soon catch him.

But Tommy’s no longer afraid.