Hunted (8 page)

Sam sat in the cell with Mr. Stein, surprised they had been shoved along a corridor to a processing center instead of to the guillotine. The man at the front had asked their names and Sam and Mr. Stein gave them. There was no sense trying to fool the GC about their identities. Neither of them had Nicolae's mark, which was punishable by death.

“Are you Jewish?” the man said.

Mr. Stein nodded. “Both of us.”

The Peacekeeper had smirked and shook his head. “Two more for the transport in the morning.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Stein said. “You're sending us—”

The Peacekeeper had backhanded Mr. Stein so hard that Sam thought his friend would fall to the ground. Sam tried to steady him with his body.

“Take them away,” the man said to a guard.

“It's okay,” Sam whispered when Mr. Stein regained his balance. “Let's go.”

The guard had led them to a long line of cells, taken off their cuffs, and shoved them into the last room. Mr. Stein wiped blood from his lip. Sam tried to turn on water from a tiny faucet in the corner, but nothing came out. The toilet in the room smelled hideous.

“What did he mean about the transport?” Sam said.

Mr. Stein shrugged.

A man across the hall slid to the front of his cell. “Are you a Jew?”

“Yes,” Sam said.

“They're kicking all of us out of here. They said the guillotine was too good for us, so they're shipping us off to camps.”

“Do you know how long you can live without food and water?” another man said from a cell farther away.

“No,” Sam said innocently.

“You're about to find out,” he said. “They want to torture us for not taking Carpathia's mark. We're traitors and enemies of the risen potentate. Others get a quick drop of the blade, but we get weeks, maybe months, of starvation and mistreatment.”

“I knew this would happen,” Mr. Stein whispered, “but I never dreamed I would see it with my own eyes.”

The main door opened, and a guard pushed Aron through. Aron fell face-first on the concrete floor. The Peacekeeper jerked him up and threw him into an empty cell at the front and locked the door.

Sam counted seventeen others. A few with the mark of Carpathia who had no doubt broken some law, but most of them were Jews who had not taken the mark. He and Mr. Stein were the only believers.

Mr. Stein called to Aron, but the man didn't move. When Mr. Stein shouted louder, several others told him to be quiet.

“He's either knocked out or dead, so shut up!” a man with Carpathia's mark said.

Mr. Stein and Sam sat on a cot and prayed quietly for Aron.

Vicki and the others gathered in the main cabin in Wisconsin and prayed for Sam Goldberg and Mr. Stein. Though most in the group had never met them, they spoke as if they were close friends.

“Please don't let the GC get to them,” Charlie prayed in his simple way. “And if they do, get them out of there. You know they were trying to help others come to know you, so please help them. Amen.”

Sam watched for any sign of movement from Aron but saw none. He and Mr. Stein continued to pray, then sang a few choruses, even though some inmates seemed angered by their voices.

Mr. Stein walked to the front of the cell. “Gentlemen, I know not all of you can understand me, but I have been sent here to tell you good news—”

“Why do you think we can't understand you?” a graying old man said. “You're speaking perfect Hebrew.”

Mr. Stein turned and winked at Sam. “For those of you without the mark of Carpathia, I say this. On behalf of the true King of kings and Lord of lords, you have a chance to turn from your sin and your rejection of God and begin a relationship with him.”

Most of the men turned over on their bunks, but a few seemed to listen. Mr. Stein was careful not to talk too loud and bring in the guards, but he explained plainly how the men could receive Jesus Christ. When he was finished, Sam noticed Aron moving slightly. Sam called for him and Aron stood.

“If you are ready to pray, do it now before it is too late,” Mr. Stein said. “O God, I know that I am a sinner and that I deserve to be punished for my sin. But right now I reach out to you in faith and ask you to take away that sin through the blood of your Son, Jesus. I believe he died on the cross in my place, took my punishment, and rose again three days later, a victor over death. I give my life to you now. Lead me in the paths you desire. Save me from my sin. And I pray all this in the name of Jesus, the Messiah. Amen.”

Sam kept his eyes shut tightly as Mr. Stein prayed. He prayed for each of the men and that the guards wouldn't break in during Mr. Stein's prayer. When Mr. Stein finished, Sam looked first at Aron, but the man was again on the floor.

Of the seventeen men, three had the mark of the true believer on their foreheads. Mr. Stein pointed to them, and the three were amazed he could tell they had believed. He explained the mark of God and how everyone who prayed received one.

Finally, Aron stood and Sam was overcome with emotion. The man had the mark of the true believer as well.

“We may not know where they are taking us,” Mr. Stein said through tears, “but we know our eternal destination. Our home in heaven has been sealed, and one day we will walk there because of the grace and love of our God.”

Mr. Stein asked the three their names and encouraged them with words from the Scriptures. Guards arrived to quiet everyone and turn out the lights.

“Better get some sleep, Jews,” one of the Peacekeepers snarled. “You'll be leaving before daylight.”

The men grumbled, but Sam settled onto his bunk. Mr. Stein got the attention of one of the guards. “This young man is still a teenager. Tell me you won't have compassion on one so young.”

“He's old enough to make his own decisions,” the man said. “He didn't take the mark, and he's a Jew. He'll ride with the rest of you.”

Sam closed his eyes and thought about Petra. He wished he could be there once more to climb the rock formations and say good-bye to the people he loved. He thought of Naomi. Though she didn't feel the same way he felt for her, she had shown him kindness.

Sam wondered if Judd and the others in the Young Tribulation Force would ever find out what had happened to him.
They will
, Sam thought,
when they get to heaven
.

Sam didn't think he could get to sleep. He imagined the ride to some sickening camp where the GC would put them to work until they dropped. He almost preferred the quick ending of the guillotine to what his mind conjured up.

Later Sam fell into a deep sleep and dreamed of writing a final edition of his Petra Diaries and sending it to everyone in the Young Tribulation Force. In the dream, Dr. Tsion Ben-Judah put Sam's writings on the screen above Petra so everyone could read it.

Sam awakened, smiling. The main door opened and a bright light shone in his face. It was time to leave.

8

SAM
stirred, sitting up on his bunk and watching the guard at the door. The men inside breathed heavily in their sleep and a few snored. Mr. Stein slept soundly, and Sam hated to awaken him.

After the light went out, Sam wondered if the guard was simply checking on them. He glanced at Aron's cell and saw the man was sleeping or unconscious. Sam lay down quietly and waited.

The guard moved slowly past the sleeping prisoners, his footsteps quiet. It was 4:00 A.M. If they were going to be taken before sunup, they would probably be roused in the next hour, but this seemed too early.

Sam listened carefully and was convinced the man had gone, so he settled back on his pillow and sighed deeply. Before he closed his eyes he glanced at his cell door. A man stood there staring at him.

Sam resisted the urge to scream, but his eyes widened and his heart raced furiously. Sam was sure he had never seen this stranger. He wore sandals, a long, flowing robe, had a short beard and piercing eyes. He had no mark, either of the true believer or of Carpathia.

Sam kept his eyes on the man and sat up. “Is it time for us to go?” he whispered.

“Yes.” The man's voice was deep, and something about it made Sam want to trust him.

“Are you taking us to the transport?”

The man shook his head.

“Then why are you here?”

“I come in the name of the Lord our God. He is strong and mighty to save. Though the evil one is set on the destruction of the people of God, he will not touch you. There are many praying for you and your friends.”

Sam wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He fell out of bed and onto his knees. Tears streaked his cheeks. “I'm not worthy for the Lord to take such an interest in me. Others have died. Why should I be saved?”

Sam felt a hand touch his face, lifting him up. The angel stood next to him, the cell door still closed. “Write these things as an encouragement to those around the world, young one. Tell of the Lord's mighty deeds and give praise to the one who lifts those who are weary of heart.”

“You mean my diary—yes, I will.” The angel's touch ignited a fire inside Sam, and he couldn't wait to tell Judd and the others. Sam looked at the cell door. They still had to get away from the jail without any guards noticing. And how would they tell Mac about needing a ride without the cell phone?

“Do not let your heart be troubled,” the angel said. “Trust in God and the one he has sent to protect you.”

Sam nodded weakly. He recalled the story of the apostle Peter being set free by an angel while Peter was chained to two sleeping guards. If God could do that, surely he could help Sam and the others escape.

“Awaken your friend and I will get the others,” the angel said. “We must leave quickly.”

Sam put a hand on Mr. Stein's shoulder and shook him gently. He opened his eyes and gave Sam a startled look. “Have they come for us?”

“Yes,” Sam said, “but not the guards. God has sent someone to rescue us.” He pointed at the man who had moved to Aron's cell. There was a metal clank on the floor as handcuffs fell from his wrists.

Aron rubbed his wrists and stood. The angel spoke from the hall and without moving so much as a finger, the door swung open and Aron stepped outside.

Sam reached for their cell door, and it unlatched as if someone had flipped a switch in another room. Mr. Stein and Sam moved into the hall as the angel awakened the other believers and motioned to them to get up. Sam and Mr. Stein edged as close to the angel as they could as he approached the main door. In spite of the noise of the six inmates walking out of their cells, the others kept snoring.

The main door opened as noiselessly as the cell doors. Sam walked into a holding area, where a guard sat slumped in a chair and another leaned forward on a desk, his hat covering his face. The angel pointed to a shelf above the sleeping guards, and Sam spotted their cell phone in a plastic bag. The angel nodded, and Sam grabbed it.

Each door opened for them as if it were automatic. When they reached the street, they found a sleek minivan parked in front. Sabir got out, smiling, and welcomed the six. Sam turned to thank the angel, but he had vanished like a vapor.

Sam couldn't hold back his praise. “We thank you, O God, for your protection and your love for us,” he said, his arms outstretched toward heaven.

“Come,” Mr. Stein said. “We will thank God once we are on our way.”

Sabir explained that he had been awakened from a dead sleep and told to come to the GC station. “I got in my little car and a man stood before me, shaking his head. He pointed to this vehicle, and I found the keys in the ignition. If I had brought the small one, we never would have been able to fit all of you in.”

“Where are we going?” Mr. Stein said.

“To the airport,” Sabir said. “My instructions were very clear. I should accompany you on the flight.”

“You're going to see your wife!” Sam said.

“I suppose many prayers will be answered tonight. I said I would stay until God directed me, and now he has.”