BOOK EXCERPT--The Gleaning Time - Arc One - In The Beginning
ISBN: 1-4241-5410-3
PUBLISHED BY PUBLISHAMERICA, LLLP
www.publishamerica.com
Baltimore, MD
Printed in the United States of America
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 1--ESCAPE
1--ESCAPE
It was a dank, clammy night, made gloomy by the intermittent drizzle that had become steadier as the light of day faded with the sunset. The weather had put a signature on what capped off an extraordinary week that had followed an occurrence that sent the entire globe into total chaos. One day, all over the world, millions of people disappeared, vanished in proverbial thin air as they had gone about their daily rituals of getting up, going to work or school, or attending to the needs of the family. And it, like the irregular path of a tornado, appeared to be totally at random; two would walk together and one would suddenly be gone, a husband would be complaining to his wife one minute and then find that he was talking to empty air.
The strange happening was serving to put a general panic on the populace, who turned to their elected officials to provide the elusive answers. The seasoned politicians were dumbfounded themselves, amazed that they had no inkling as to know what to say to calm their constituents down. And this caused a further frenzy to envelop the people whose emotions at losing loved ones were at a premium.
As always in a time of crisis, there were the usual foxhole conversions that were rampant among those who would not even dream of pleading to a God who was nothing more to them but an expression of disgust, or a curse had the circumstances been different. The local churches were full to overflowing as people seeking answers to their questions came running to the various faiths they had been brought up in and found that the clergy had no more answers then the elected government did. People became terrified as the lives they had all had lived happily came to a sudden, screeching halt.
The global news network was in a frenzy, trying to cover all the incidences with their customary fervor for anything of the bizarre or extraordinary, reporters scattered hither and yon with remotes for eyewitness accounts of the circumstances. The coverage was 24 hours, preempting regular entertainment programming as the repercussions were felt worldwide and nobody was unaffected. Obviously, the governments had their military units on high alert, with curfews for all major cities in place to prevent total chaos. Military vehicles were policing the streets to keep looting and other signs of unrest and mayhem to a minimum. Most all citizens, however, in a state of extreme unease had retired to their homes where they sat, for the most part glued to their televisions, radios, and other media outlets.
The world governments in an attempt to maintain order had met in an emergency council that was named Unified World Council and drew up a set of universal laws and curfews that would keep order among the populace. Led by a charismatic man named Isaac Abram, who had performed miracles where bedlam had reigned, in an unprecedented move they decided to bring the nations of the world together to protect the people from the insidious forces behind the millions of disappearances. As part of that mission and to make sure that no others disappear, they had the top developers of technology create a small chip that was mandatorily implanted in each citizen as a form of identification. Nobody could do anything, including purchasing food and other materials and services vital for life without this chip implanted either on the forehead or right hand. Although most accepted this form of tagging, a small yet growing number had refused, causing further chaos as their defiance in the face of the world was spotlighted. To discourage any further refusals, a decree went out that those refusing the TM chips or The Mark, as it was called, were subject to either being shot on sight or immediate incarceration and after a biased trial designed for appearances, were executed. It was rapidly becoming a controlled bloodbath, a 21st century version of the Third Reich all done for the sake of keeping order in a now tumultuous world.
In a rather deserted area of Brighton, MA the National Guard vehicles commissioned now by the Unified World Force were periodically cruising the streets, shining spotlights in abandoned buildings and alleyways, searching for any curfew violators, refusers of The Mark, and other suspicious persons, determined to keep the precarious peace. Their presence was like the George Orwell novel "1984" made manifest, Big Brother come to life as they used all forms of sophisticated surveillance at their disposal, their intrusiveness justified by the shocking events.
As they passed an alley nestled between a deserted restaurant called Mario’s and a rundown triple decker dwelling they missed a figure hiding behind a large pile of discarded cardboard boxes, stacked on a large green dumpster. When the sweep was completed, a tall, lean yet muscular youth brushed his unruly chestnut curls back and stepped cautiously from behind, his cerulean eyes wary and watchful.
Peter Roccque heaved a sigh of relief as he heard the retreating growl of the vehicle as it headed down the road. Making sure the coast was truly clear, he crept slowly to the end of the alley and scanned the now empty street, the amber glow of the streetlight adding to the surreal scene as a fog blanketed the air. He then went back into the alley to plot his next move, taking a seat on a milk crate. He glanced at his surroundings and idly stared at the bright striped awning over the doorway and fuchsia light from the restaurant sign, glowing garishly on the concrete made damp by the thickening mist. He began wondering if the eatery had temporarily closed due to the worldwide "disaster", as so many other businesses had done.
Peter felt his stomach rumble as hunger gnawed at him along with the underlying current of unease that the confusion of the last week caused. How life for him could have changed so drastically in the stretch of seven days was both sobering and mind-boggling, yet raised as a Christian deep inside he expected it to happen. But having shunned his upbringing like any human with a finite mind and limited understanding he was admitting to a sort of panic. With a concentrated effort he squelched the fear bubbling inside and the pangs of hunger by reaching back and feeling in his back pocket for a well worn black leather bible, which gave him a sense of peace within the well of fear in which he was steeped. He withdrew it and thumbed it open, reading from the gospel of Matthew 24:9
Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name's sake.
There it is. And you knew it all along but you denied it, trying to lull yourself into a sense of false security Peter told himself. But there it was, in black and white, words that had been drummed into his head via countless Sunday school lessons and his father’s many sermons. At the time he heard it and was old enough to understand it, he had scoffed and scorned the words as fairy tales and kid stuff at the ripe old age of 12. The beginning of puberty, he was more interested in getting the pretty blonde girl that sat next to him in homeroom to notice him then in what his father called "the end times." Then at that age, his entire world unraveled as his father Daniel Roccque, the renowned and respected pastor of one of the most dynamic prophecy ministries was caught in the act of committing adultery. His removal from his lofty position and subsequent departure from home further embittered his young son Peter who, having thought his father’s sermons amusing or boring, now saw him as the ultimate hypocrite. He was livid, furious at his father and his anger grew with every tear his mother shed.
His mother. Just the thought of her brought Peter back to the occurrence seven days ago as multitudes were just disappearing. He had been running an errand for her since it was a day without classes for him as he was in his junior year at the university working toward getting a B.A. in sociology. He was trying to figure out his future, but felt obligated to care for his mother the eight years his father had been gone. That day, he was returning from the grocery store as there were suddenly several automobile crashes and they were so numerous it seemed that drivers of the vehicles were in an ice storm in the middle of the winter instead of late spring. He returned home unscathed and was bringing the packages in….
"Hey Mom?" Peter called as he entered the kitchen. "I’m back from the store and I got everything but the peaches, they were out so don’t worry about making the cobbler for me. I’ll probably eat at the SU on campus tonight."
There was no answer so curious, he walked into the empty living room. "Mom?" His summons echoed, bouncing off the walls to give him a sinking feeling that something was not right but being a man of 20 he did not want to resort to the panic of a child looking for a missing parent.
"Mom? Mom!" Peter shouted, fighting the rising sense of fear that something happened. He hurried into her bedroom and came to a dead halt when he saw what was there.
His mother’s bed was made, nothing unusual there since as soon as she woke up, she would make her bed but there on the bedspread was a pile of clothing looking like they were discarded next to her Bible, opened and waiting. On her nightstand, the daily communion, something she had as part of her morning devotional ritual sat a small cup of grape juice and matzo cracker untouched, as if it had just been set up.
Peter approached the bed slowly, as if in a trance to take a closer look at the clothes. They were the outfit his mother had just put on this very morning, the clothes she was wearing before he had left to do the grocery shopping. He knelt down and reached a tentative hand to touch the clothes, his heart pounding.
"Mom," he whispered as he shook his head unbelievingly, feeling as if it was a bad dream.
He rose slowly as it gradually became apparent that what had happened was something that he had known about since he was old enough to understand. But the so-called practical side of him sought further information so he went to the television and turned it on.
The news anchorperson was speaking in a controlled yet incredulous manner totally stunned by the occurrence as he reported on it:
"…and it appears that reports are flooding in to the various local authorities that these mysterious disappearances are quite numerous, affecting all areas. Men, women, boys, and girls of every origin and age have quite literally vanished from the face of the earth..."
Peter turned the TV off, not wanting to hear anymore. He walked back to the bed and sat down then picked up the Bible, to the page that had been his mother’s devotional reading for the day. It was opened to first Thessalonians 5:16-17:
For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.
Peter rose slowly as inside he knew what had taken place was the much anticipated Rapture and that he had been one of the many that had remained, passed over, and as the famous series of novels and videos had touted, had been left behind.
Peter closed his eyes as he fought the bleak feeling of hopelessness, the flesh making its presence known as the spirit filled with the hope of the Word, something he had been sustaining himself on since that fateful day. After discovering his mother’s disappearance and realizing the truth of the situation, he got down on his knees for the first time since he was 10 and asked Jesus into his heart. It was then that he felt peace, a true and real peace amidst the confusion and the building storm. And when the time came for him to have the TM chip implanted, he had refused taking off, making him a fugitive of the law and one of many that the Unified World Force was hunting down....
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