Apocalypse

Chapter 3

I found it odd that my immediate boss scheduled my meeting with the unidentified VIP at four o'clock in the afternoon. That was only about three hours to sundown, which was cutting it close for curfew. To keep myself oriented, I doubled checked my phone and noted that today was Tuesday. Since I lived in Brooklyn, I'd have to cross the bridge into Manhattan to get to the firm behind Central Park on the upper west side. I took the bus and got off within walking distance. To my surprise, there were a lot of people out, especially at the park. Obviously, some people didn't lose any family members and were treating the work shutdowns like vacation days. They must have believed the military Humvees patrolling the city were there only for their safety, there to keep the peace. I wondered what would happen if the National Guard caught them out past curfew. When a convoy of Hummers had passed the bus on the Brooklyn Bridge going the opposite way, I hadn't gotten a warm feeling. My heart had quickened its pace and my jaw and neck had grown tight as I twisted to watch the vehicles speed by. The military presence got me to thinking about everything as I followed the sidewalk to the firm.

Last night after the news, I had switched off the TV and went to bed, propping up on pillows like I had the previous night. My laptop was sitting on top of my carrying bag, plugged up, charging, work no interest to me. I recalled glancing over at my wife's Bible sitting on the end-table next to her side of the bed. A compulsion to read it had gnawed at me, but I couldn't bring myself to pick up the leather-bound book.

But then I thought of the survival guide.

To my surprise, I had found my feet leading me to the living room faster than expected. I snatched up the little book and returned to bed. The part I had read earlier in the day was an introduction. Chapter one covered the rapture in more detail, fortunately spelling out the Bible verses relating to that event to make it easier. The next chapter, covered something called the Roman Road to Salvation, explaining how faith in Christ made a relationship with God possible.

I had heard Hannah talk about her relationship with God.

As I neared the firm's front entrance and the wide, double glass doors, I wagged my head.

Lying in bed last night, I remembered feeling the need to rethink the disappearances. Before I made any decisions, I had to settle that question once and for all. Had it been God that caused the people to vanish? If so, could I know that with absolute certainty?

The survival guide had been published prior to the disappearances. So, the author had known something like this was going to happen from the verses in the Bible.

Like a wildfire in my mind, I remembered President Raven's words, threatening to arrest anyone spreading the fear of Christianity, charging them with treason. Are you kidding me? Spreading the fear... of Christianity? If other Christians had been like my wife, there was nothing to fear there. She was love inside and out. That made no sense. If other people who claimed to be Christians didn't represent the faith properly, that was a discredit to them and a bad look for the rest of the faithful. But my wife, as far as I knew, was a prime example of a follower of Christ.

Then I recalled what the little book said about persecution coming to America first, the author having predicted it beforehand. And here was the president spewing threats of imprisonment. This was a lot to process in such a short time, but the evidence seemed to suggest...

I remembered turning the page in the survival guide and found a paragraph talking about a prophet named Isaiah. Of course, being Jewish, even though I hadn't grown up religious, I had heard of this guy. The book said he lived seven hundred years before Jesus was born and had predicted how the Messiah would be born and would grow up as a child, maturing into a man who would be rejected, wounded, bruised, and killed. Isaiah chapter 53.