Apocalypse Burning (54 page)

Seconds later, Goose was packed into the belly of the fleeing Mi-8 with the other Rangers, listening to Base’s report that the Syrian air force was pulling back in an effort to return to the main camp and help with the attack there that was proving devastating.

Goose gazed down at the battlefield. The fuel would burn for a while, as would the armored cav. As he watched, another T-55 blew up, then broke apart as the ammo touched off as well.

The mission was a success. They’d cost the Syrian army dearly and reminded them who they were facing. Five Rangers, including Fieldstone, had fallen. Six others were wounded.

As Goose sat on the bare metal floor of the helo’s cargo area, he watched as two of the medical corpsmen handed the women blankets and water and offered them food. Watching them, Goose remembered who they were fighting for and why.

But was the 75th going to be strong enough to stand up against whatever the Tribulation was going to throw at them?

He settled back against the metal wall and tried to relax, but images of Fieldstone getting killed just inches from him wouldn’t go away. Fieldstone had been young, too young to die.

How many young men were going to be required to make those kinds of sacrifices during the next seven years? And in the end, would they be able to make a difference?

Thinking about differences also made Goose think about Captain Cal Remington. He didn’t like the thoughts that came to his mind or the knowledge that whatever was going on in Sanliurfa was pulling them apart.

EPILOGUE

Church of the Word
Marbury, Alabama
Local Time 1847 Hours

Delroy Harte drove the tractor through the dense undergrowth that had filled the acreage behind the Church of the Word. A small stream still ran through it, and he’d uncovered most of it with the brush-hog attachment. Here and there, lines in the earth showed where it had once been tilled. He remembered picking snap beans and sugar peas with his mother, waiting till the strawberries ripened in May and June, digging potatoes and sweet potatoes and onions with his daddy to put into the root cellar.

He found the frayed gray rope of what might have been a tire swing. He’d even found the pitcher’s mound his daddy had made almost fifty years ago when he’d taught Delroy how to throw and catch and bat.

While mowing, Delroy imagined the voices and laughter of dozens, maybe even hundreds, of baseball games played in the back of the field as part of the church functions, and—a lot of times—just when a bunch of kids had gathered with their bats and gloves. When someone had gotten a new baseball, all shiny and white, that usually guaranteed a game that day.

Delroy guessed there were at least a million memories of his family and growing up here, and as he mowed, he also mined them. He’d even brought Terrence out to this field a few times to pitch and hit, but it just hadn’t been the same. Delroy had kept looking for his daddy, thinking how grand it would have been if they could have all played baseball together.

Maybe some other time,
he thought.
God willing, there will be a time when we can all play together.

He took out more of the undergrowth, pleased with the ripsaw sound of the brush hog as it brought civilization back into the neighborhood. Other members of the congregation had offered to do the work, but Delroy wanted to do it himself, wanted to feel how it was to work the land again. He had accepted the loan of a pair of bib overalls because he didn’t have any.

Several members of the congregation still labored on the church, cleaning and painting and retooling woodwork that hadn’t been touched in years. A group of them had even started sanding the pews down one by one, then putting new lacquer on them.

As he backed the tractor up, Delroy saw Glenda standing only a short distance away. She carried a big picnic basket under her arm.

Delroy had to smile. The wooden picnic basket had been one of their first extravagances as a married couple.

He switched off the engine, sat with his arms wrapped around the steering wheel, and looked at her. She still had the power to take his breath away.

Glenda shaded her eyes. “Hey, sailor. Looking for a good time?”

“Oh, and listen to you,” Delroy said with a grin. “All that brave talk from way over there.”

“I’m not walking out there in all those brambles. I don’t have to.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’ve got fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, green beans, and buttermilk rolls in this basket.”

“It’s tempting,” Delroy said.

“Better than that,” Glenda said. “It’s homemade. So is the deepdish apple pie I made for dessert. I also made a jug of tea, sweet and dark, with some fresh lemon.”

“That’ll close the deal.” Delroy climbed down from the tractor, surprised at how stiff he’d gotten from just a few hours of work. He crossed over to her and gave her a brief hug.

Even though she’d come to the revival yesterday and stayed late at the church, Delroy spent the night again at the Purcell home. After nearly five years of absence, more than the times they’d been apart while he’d been at sea, Delroy knew they were going to have to move slowly to rekindle everything they’d once had.

If that was even possible.

After five years of being more or less alone, both of them had changed in some ways, grown more independent.

Phyllis, however, had been willing to bet they’d be back together before another six months were gone. But she didn’t know that what Delroy planned would put even more strain on an already strained relationship.

“Where do you want to sit?” Glenda asked.

“I found the old stream again,” Delroy said.

Together, they walked toward it and found a comfortable shaded spot. Evening was starting to stretch the shadows long and thin.

Glenda wore slacks and a blouse, but she’d brought a sweater against the evening’s chill.

Delroy helped her spread out the red-and-white-checked blanket, then put out the food. They ate and talked about the memories they shared, about Terrence, and even a little about the things that had happened in the past five years.

But they stayed away from the topic of the future. That subject was still too unsettling, and that was before any of the threats of the Tribulation were thrown in.

Until Glenda looked at Delroy, while he was taking his time with the deepdish apple pie, and said, “You’re not staying, are you?”

Delroy finished chewing the bite he had, giving himself a little more time to think about how handle that question.

“You don’t have to beat around the bush, Delroy,” Glenda said. “I knew that you couldn’t stay here. Not yet anyway.”

“No, ma’am,” Delroy said. “I’ve still got a ship out there that’s wrapped up in a war.” He hesitated. “I’ve got to wrap up some things before I try taking on anything new.”

Glenda drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m not going to act like I’m not disappointed.”

“I figured you’d be more relieved to find out,” Delroy said.

Glenda laughed. “Maybe there’s a little of that too.” She looked sad. “It’s been such a long time since it’s been just you and me.”

“I know.” Delroy ate another bite of pie. “I’ve spent five years with those men, Glenda, and I haven’t given them everything I was supposed to. I want to go back and do it right.”

“That’s fine. I understand.”

“Then there’s the Tribulation. Most people, they’re not ready to believe that this is the end, that there’s only seven more years left of this world. And so many people aren’t going to last that long.” Delroy looked at her. “I feel like I’m supposed to be part of this—part of whatever it is, whatever it takes to save what we can of the folks who just don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know. I heard you speak yesterday. I heard your message. It made me think a lot of your daddy. And when I saw you with Clarence Floyd? How you brought even him to Jesus like you did?” Glenda reached out and stroked his face. “You’re ready, Delroy. You’re a warrior, and this is going to be your fight.” She frowned a little. “I’ll worry about you, and I’ll pray for you, and I’ll miss you. But I want you to know that I’m going to wait on you. Till you get back home or we are together again in the hereafter. Whatever it takes.”

Delroy captured Glenda’s hand in his, seeing how small hers was against his. He kissed her fingers and said, “Thank you.” There was nothing else to say. Their hearts knew each other—always had, and always would.

United States of America
Fort Benning, Georgia
Local Time 2223 Hours

“I found her,” Doug Benbow said on the other end of the phone line.

“Where is she?” Megan juggled her cell phone and the sack of groceries she’d just bought in the commissary to take home to Camp Gander. She crossed the packed parking lot to Goose’s pickup truck.

“Saint Francis Hospital,” Benbow said.

“They have phones there,” Megan pointed out. “She could have called.”

“Megan, I know. I tried to put a call through to her father’s room, but nobody answers.”

“Did you call the floor nurse?”

“Yeah. She says that a young woman who fits Jenny’s description is there.”

“Did you try to get her to give Jenny a message? Let her know we’ve been trying to get in touch with her and that we care?” Megan knew she sounded tired.

Yesterday’s trial had taken nearly everything out of her. Then returning to Camp Gander without Jenny’s help, the additional worrying about Jenny, and fending off media people who wanted to interview the woman who seemed to have set the military on its ear by inspiring them to come forward and declare that there is a God had stranded Megan in a world that seemed too fuzzy and too far away to be real.

“Don’t you think sending the nurse in there is a little invasive?” Benbow asked.

“You’re right,” Megan said. “I can swing by there in twenty minutes and check on her myself. I’ll feel better if I can see her.” She dug her keys out of her purse. “Did you find out about her dad?”

“Traffic accident. He was drinking. One-car accident.” Benbow hesitated. “The nurse I talked to and convinced that I was a family member told me they don’t think he’s going to pull through.”

Megan felt horrible. In spite of everything yesterday, things were still going wrong. She didn’t know if she would be allowed to continue her job as counselor for the teens. For the moment she was still providing room and board for many of them, but she was afraid General Braddock would try to phase her out. She didn’t know what she would do if that happened.

“You’re going out there?” Benbow asked.

“Yes.”

“Tonight?”

“Right now.”

“Want company?”

“This might be more girl time, Doug. No offense.”

“Oh, none taken. Trust me. I can use the sleep. Call me if you need anything. Or if Jenny needs anything.”

Megan said she would, then punched End on the cell phone. Only when she was standing beside Goose’s pickup did she realize the passenger-side window was broken out. She started to back away.

Then Joey poked his head out of the shadows. He was scared and his face was horribly bruised. “Mom,” he said in a quavering voice. “I’m in trouble. I’m in
real
trouble.”