World War III (64 page)
“It’s over,” said Shiloh, watching Cody closely.
Cody could feel life escaping his body, as blood bubbled from his wounds and formed a pool in the snow beneath him. Using both hands to lift his gun, he grinned and was about to pull the trigger, when flame belched from Shiloh’s gun. The bullet tore through Cody’s heart, killing him instantly.
“Oh Shiloh!” Gasped Scarlett, running to his arms.
“Are you alright?” He asked, noticing his six-shooter clenched in her hand. A thin tendril of smoke rose from the pistol’s muzzle.
“Yes, I think so,” she smiled, handing him the gun. “I’ve never shot anyone before.”
“It was him or us. You did the right thing. Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm over her shoulder, “let’s get you back to town.”
They were halfway across the field, when the Firefly flew past with Sampson waving from the backseat. Realizing his radio was turned off, Shiloh powered it on and heard Kye’s voice.
“…the enemy convoy has divided into two separate forces and is forming a blockade around the town. I repeat, the town is surrounded! They’ve got two divisions moving east, with…”
A shell tore through the plane’s wing, breaking it in half and sent the Firefly spiraling out of control. The fighter plummeted toward the ground, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
“Mayday! Mayday! We’ve been hit and we’re going down!”
“Firefly is down! I repeat, Firefly is down!” Ian shouted over the radio, leading a handful of men toward the smoldering plane. After pulling Kye and Sampson from the wreckage, the group headed back to town.
“Need a ride?” Offered Jeremiah, pulling up beside them in the Tiger tank.
“Thanks!” Said Ian, helping Sampson climb onto the tank, before turning to help Kye. When everyone was safely onboard, Jeremiah drove down Main Street and parked in front of the Shady Lady.
“What are we gonna do now?” Bellowed Mayor Sullivan, staring across the battlefield at the enemy blockade. “We’ve used all our tricks and that was against a much smaller force!”
“He’s right,” said Lt. Sawyer. “This army is twice the size.”
“The choice is simple,” said Ian. “We can surrender and hope for mercy, or we can fight to the last man.”
“Either way, we’re likely dead,” replied Sgt. Morgan. “I’d rather die fighting on my feet, than begging on my knees!”
“I agree.” Said Ian. “But everyone needs to make that choice for themselves.”
A deafening roar suddenly erupted from the enemy blockade, as hundreds of tanks and artillery guns fired simultaneously. Everyone scattered in different directions, frantically seeking shelter.
Shiloh grabbed Scarlett by the arm and led her into the Library. With missiles detonating on the streets above, they hunkered in the basement and waited. Dirt fell from the ceiling and the walls shook violently, as the bombardment continued relentlessly. He wrapped his arms around her and covered her head, trying to muffle the sound of explosions. Curling up beside him, she buried her head in his chest.
The shelling lasted for over an hour, before everything suddenly became quiet.
“What do you make of it?” Asked Ian, crouching next to Shiloh and Scarlett.
“I don’t know,” admitted Shiloh, “maybe they want to talk?”
“Yeah,” replied Ian, “or maybe they’re waiting for everyone to come outside, before they start shelling again.”
“It’s possible,” agreed Shiloh. “Ya want me to go check it out?”
“I’ll go with you.” Ian stood up and walked around the room, telling everyone to stay put.
“Wait here,” said Shiloh, looking down into Scarlett’s deep, blue eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry,” she said, softly, not wanting to let go of his hand.
“I will.” He patted her hand gently, before standing up and joining Ian by the stairs.
“Ready?” Asked Ian, holding two assault rifles.
“Yeah,” said Shiloh, accepting one of the guns.
They opened the basement door and closed it behind them, before climbing the stairs to what was left of the library. Books were scattered everywhere, some still smoldering. Holding their rifles ready to fire, they picked their way through the debris.
“Hey!” Whispered Cleo, waving to them from across the street. She was concealed beneath the remnants of the clinic and pointing to the enemy’s forward position. “They’re pulling back!”
“What?” Ian peered through a pair of binoculars, inspecting the army’s movements. “She’s right,” he said, watching the convoy drive away.
“Why would they leave when they’ve won?”
“I don’t know,” replied Ian, glancing around at the bombed out buildings. “Maybe they thought we were dead?”
“I doubt it,” replied Shiloh, before running across the street to Cleo, with Ian following close behind. “What happened?”
“I don’t bloody know,” she said, brushing dirt from her clothes. “They just quit firing and piled into their vehicles.”
“Where’s Mason?” Asked Ian, looking at the pile of rubble behind her.
“We got everyone into the basement before the clinic took a direct hit,” she explained. “Mason’s below with the rest. He’s still unconscious, but the doctor says he should be fine.”
“I still don’t understand why they retreated,” said Shiloh, trying to solve the mystery.
“Perhaps they…” Cleo’s voice became stifled by a strange noise, a sound unlike any other.
Similar to the deep roar of a trumpet, but more mechanical in nature, the echoing hum grew louder, until it was all-encompassing. The ground beneath their feet began to shake, as a strong blast of wind struck from above, forcing them to their knees.
Unable to stand or hear anything above the rumbling vibration, they looked up and saw clouds rolling apart, like pages of a scroll. The sound intensified and the blast grew stronger, as the sky tore open and a ship emerged from out of nowhere. Several miles in diameter, the ship darkened the town and cast an ominous shadow over the valley below.
Shiloh, Ian and Cleo glanced at one another with blank stares, their hands cupped over their ears.
Shiloh could see Cleo’s lips moving, but couldn’t understand a word she was saying. He shook his head and yelled, “I can’t hear you!” The sound caused by the ship’s arrival was so deafening, he couldn’t hear the sound of his own voice.
Cleo tried shouting again, but it was of no use. The ship’s thunderous roar, shattered every sound in its path.
Just as suddenly as it started, the ground quit shaking and the wind stopped blowing. The echoing hum grew softer and softer, until it finally ceased all together.
“Now what in the bloody hell is that?” Asked Cleo, staring up at the underbelly of a spaceship.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” replied Shiloh, glancing at Ian. “What do you make of it?”
Ian gazed up at the unidentified flying object, his mouth dangling open. “I think we’ve been invaded, again!”
To Be Continued…
Thank you for reading the second book in The End of Time Chronicles. I hope you enjoyed World War III and had as much fun reading it, as I did writing. We’d also like to thank all of our readers for your patience and prayers as we worked on the second installment in the series. May the Lord be with you and always protect both you and your loved ones!
The third book, Sons of God, is coming as soon as possible.
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The End of Time Chronicles
Sons of God
Written By
Heath Jannusch
The Arrival – Day Seven
The Dead Sea, Jerusalem
The shrill scream of air raid sirens shattered the peaceful evening, as soldiers ran to the frontline. Standing on the hills of Tzfat, with the Sea of Galilee behind him, Jacob faced the Syrian border to the north. From his position in the reserves, he could see the Israeli advance guard stationed on the fields below. Airstrikes were nothing new and had been a regular occurrence, even before the nation’s discovery of a large gas and oil reserve.
Although he’d just finished cleaning and loading his rifle, Jacob checked it once again. An Israeli’s weapon was his or her lifeline and most people, soldiers and civilians alike, never left home without it. It was not uncommon to see a woman pushing a shopping cart through a grocery store, with her child sitting in the cart in front of her and an assault rifle slung over her shoulder. It’s just the way it was in Israel and had been for a long time.
Jacob watched a battalion of Israeli tanks take the field and form a line, facing the Syrian border. Despite the countless battles he’d fought in, he could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. As a devout Jew, he dropped to his knees and prayed silently to the Hebrew God. The God of his forefathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
“When are you going to realize, He’s already answered your prayers?” Asked Sgt. Adel, looking down at Jacob.
Jacob glanced up at the Sergeant, a fellow Jew who’d converted to Christianity over a year ago. The two men had served together for over a decade and formed a relationship only brothers-in-arms could understand. Ever since becoming a Born Again Christian, the Sergeant had continually tried to convince Jacob that Jesus was in fact the Messiah. A debate that continued to this day.
“Will you never give up?” Asked Jacob, his eyes closed in prayer.
“Would you give up on me?” Asked Sgt. Adel, swinging his rifle over his shoulder.
Jacob finished his prayer and stood. “Did you eat?”
“I was eating dinner when the sirens went off.”
“What do you think it is this time? Missiles or fighters?”
“They hit us with fighters yesterday, so my guess would be missiles. They’ve got to give the pilots a rest,” he laughed.
“You don’t take anything seriously.”
“I wouldn’t be able to get through the day if I did,” said Sgt. Adel. “Once you’ve accepted the fact your body is nothing more than a shell, housing your eternal soul, you look at life and death in a whole other light.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then I’ll go to my grave happy, but I’m not wrong.”
“Only time will tell,” said Jacob, as a platoon of soldiers ran by, headed for the frontline.
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If I suddenly disappear someday, along with countless others, promise me you’ll read the Bible, particularly the New Testament,” said the Sergeant.
“Why?” Asked Jacob. “Where are you planning to go?”
“Heaven,” smiled Sgt. Adel.
A squadron of Israeli fighters flew past, headed for the border.
“Fine,” said Jacob, when the roar of jets subsided, “I promise.”
“Good,” smiled the Sergeant. “If I can’t save your immortal soul while I’m still here, perhaps my disappearance will help.”
The ground beneath their feet began to tremble, as a foreign army appeared on a distant hillside and headed straight for them. Comprised of thousands of tanks and millions of troops, the army descended on the Golan Heights, like a dark cloud covering the land.
Jacob looked up at the night sky and realized the stars had gone dark, blotted out by hundreds of enemy aircraft. He steadied himself, as the earth shook and a rumbling growl resonated from deep within its belly. The mountains rose and fell like waves in a tempest, throwing enemy tanks high into the air. Soldiers screamed in fright, as the ground opened and swallowed them whole.
The clouds parted and jagged bolts of lightning shot down from Heaven, striking planes and missiles and hurtling them to the ground in balls of fire. Meteors fell from the sky and decimated enemy ground troops, before they’d even crossed the border.
“Come on!” Yelled Sgt. Adel, waving to Jacob, as he turned and ran for the frontline.
Jacob was about to follow, when the Sergeant suddenly vanished in a warm, bright light. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring in disbelief. On the ground where Sgt. Adel had been standing, lay the soldier’s uniform and rifle.
Jacob bent down and picked up the Sergeant’s dog tags, as a flash of lightning struck the ground in front of him. The electric bolt sent him flying and he landed on his back a few feet away. He sat up and rubbed his forehead, feeling a mark burned into the flesh.
*******
Jacob awoke with a start and realized he’d been dreaming. He gazed at the ship hovering above and thought back to the day Sgt. Adel disappeared. Although it had been nearly two months since the incident, he remembered it like yesterday and could still feel the warmth from the bright light on his skin.
Lying on a blanket on the northwestern shore of the Dead Sea, he sat up and listened to the Jordan River, flowing into the salty lake. In the distance, he could see clouds of dust from mass burial graves being dug in the east.
Reaching up, he gently touched the scar on his forehead and considered its meaning. After Adel’s disappearance, Jacob kept his promise and began reading the New Testament. He’d read it twice already and was now reading it for the third time.
Although he’d memorized the verse, Jacob picked up the Bible beside him and turned to chapter fourteen in the Book of Revelation. With the moon shinning down as a lantern, he silently read the words…
‘Then I looked, and behold, a Lamb standing on Mount Zion, and with Him one hundred and forty-four thousand, having His Father’s name written on their foreheads.’
“It can’t be,” he said, resting the Bible on his lap and tracing the scar with his finger. “How could I possibly be one of the 144,000?”
Realizing present day events had been prophesied in the Bible, thousands of years ago and watching Sgt. Adel vanish before his eyes, had been more than enough to convert Jacob to Christianity. He now understood what the Sergeant had been trying to tell him and wished his friend was still here. He had so many questions, yet unanswered.
A sudden bolt of lightning flashed down from the sky and struck the sea, illuminating the beach where he lay. Jacob gazed at the water, rippling from the blast and wondered if God was trying to tell him something. The surface of the lake began to stir and foam bubbled to the surface. Stunned by the sight, he rose to his feet and took a step toward the churning water.
Two more lightning bolts flashed from the sky, striking the lake in the exact same spot. Blinded by the light, he stumbled and fell to the ground. He rubbed his eyes before opening them and watched in shock, as the Dead Sea became turbulent and a whirlpool formed at its center. The storm was brief, lasting only a few minutes, before the wind quit blowing and the water stopped churning. As suddenly as it had begun, the lake became still and calm.
Jacob sat watching in disbelief, while the top of a head emerged from beneath the water’s murky surface. Frightened, he reached for his gun and took aim, as a man’s face appeared, followed by his neck and shoulders.
The man walked out of the water and stood naked on the beach, dripping wet. His body seemed translucent and shimmered in the pale moonlight. He turned his head and looked at Jacob, with an evil grin. His eyes were black as coal and his skin sparkled like glitter. He glanced at the Bible lying in the sand at Jacob’s feet, before turning and walking away. The strange man headed up the beach and disappeared into the bushes.
Jacob was about to say something, when he saw the man’s shadow on the sand and closed his mouth. Unable to speak, he felt a chill run down his spine. Instead of having one head, the shadow revealed seven. And on the seven heads were ten horns, a crown upon each. The shadow also exposed the body of a beast, rather than that of a man. With feet of a bear and the body of a leopard, the beast’s mouth was like that of a lion.
Terrified, Jacob tried to swallow and instead felt a dry lump in his throat. He considered following the man, but immediately changed his mind.
His eyes were temporarily blinded, when three more rapid bolts of lightning struck the beach a few feet away. He frantically rubbed them, trying desperately to see. As his vision slowly returned, he noticed the ground was scorched black.
The sand started to move, falling in on itself and creating a sinkhole. With his rifle held ready, he leaned forward and peered into the dark abyss. At first he saw nothing, but then his heart skipped a beat, when a hand shot up from out of the void. Startled, Jacob jumped backward, dropping his rifle in the process. He wanted to turn and run, but his legs failed to respond.
Two lamb horns appeared out of the darkness, as a hideous beast emerged from the hole. Its eyes glowed, fiery red and when it opened its mouth, flame belched from within. Jacob’s mouth dropped open and he watched in awe, as the creature transformed into a man. Although his complexion was darker than the first man’s, they shared the same sparkling skin.
Naked from head-to-toe, the man glanced around and noticed Jacob sitting a few feet away. A wicked smile slowly spread across his face, as he took a step forward.
Jacob glanced at the rifle, lying at his feet and instead reached for the Bible. He held the book in front of him and was about to rebuke the beast in the name of Jesus Christ, when flame shot from its mouth, engulfing the area around him. Feeling the intense heat surround him, he dropped the Bible and covered his head, but miraculously he wasn’t burned.
The fire suddenly subsided and the beast stopped dead in his tracks, staring in disgust at Jacob’s forehead. Without saying a word, he inexplicably turned and walked away, following after the first beast.
Jacob watched until the beast was out of sight, before raising his hand and touching the name engraved on his forehead. So it was true!
*******
“Check this out,” laughed Anthony, gently nudging his buddy awake.
“What is it?” Asked Stephen, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus in the darkness.
“Up ahead,” said Anthony. “On the side of the road.”
Stephen leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. “Are those guys naked?”
“I think so,” chuckled Anthony. “Should we offer them a ride?”
“I guess,” replied Stephen, mildly curious.
Anthony pulled the car to a stop in front of the two men and glanced in the rearview mirror. “They’re coming up on your side,” he said, watching the men approach.
Stephen rolled the window down and stuck his head out. “Do you guys need help?”
The men stopped walking and stood still, staring at Stephen with blank expressions. Their dark eyes sent a cold chill down his spine, making him feel like a gazelle, stalked by a pair of lions.
“I asked if you need help.” He repeated, trying not to appear frightened. Although he and Anthony had been working in Israel for some time, they were still leery of strangers, especially Muslims.
“We could use some assistance,” replied the blonde man, stepping forward and resting his arms on the door. “Are you gentleman from around here?”
“We’re with a group called Doctors Without Borders,” explained Anthony. “We’ve been working out of a refugee camp in Bethlehem.”
“You fellas aren’t Muslims, are ya?” Asked Stephen, the hair on the back of his neck still standing on end.
“Why do you ask?”
“Cause I like my head right where it is,” he replied.
“Forgive my friend,” said Anthony, “we’ve had some bad experiences with Muslims in the area and it never hurts to be cautious. They’ve been kidnapping and beheading anyone who doesn’t share their beliefs.”
“Yeah,” mumbled Stephen. “Despite the fact we help everyone, including Muslims, they still hate us for helping Jews.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to your clothes?”
“Ah yes, we are in need of garments,” said the blonde man, “as well as transportation.”
“Doesn’t your friend speak?” Asked Stephen, watching the dark haired man closely.
“He does when he has something to say,” replied the blonde man.
“I don’t like it,” whispered Stephen, looking at Anthony.
“You don’t have to like it,” smiled the blonde man, as pleasant as before. “You just have to submit, by giving us your car and clothing.”
“Go!” Shouted Stephen, trying to roll the window up.
Anthony slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, but although the engine revved and the tires spun, the car wouldn’t move.
“What’s happening?” Yelled Stephen, struggling with a window that wouldn’t budge. “I said go!”
“I’m trying!” Shouted Anthony, pressing harder on the pedal.
The blonde man stepped away from the car and nodded to his companion, who stepped forward, grinning. Reaching through the passenger window, the dark haired man grabbed Stephen’s head and snapped his neck like a twig.
