Apocalypse

Chapter 4

After the meeting with the president, I had to wait an hour for his limo and detail of Chevy Suburbans to line up with a patrol of military Humvees to make his exit from the city. I assumed they would cut a trail to LaGuardia Airport since it was closer than JFK, where Air Force One awaited for the flight back to Washington. But what boggled my mind, besides my private meeting with the president was the fact I had known about the dream without being told about it and knew what it meant. That was beyond comprehension. I was just sitting there, and then boom, the knowledge came to me in an instant. When I had interpreted the dream, the information had spilled from my lips almost as quickly as it had entered my brain. I'd had a revelation from God, on the spot and dead on accurate. I couldn't deny what I had experienced, and it still gave me chills as I exited the bus a few blocks from my apartment.

As I neared a street corner, I caught sight of a group of people standing around listening to someone speak. The closer I got; I began to realize the speaker was a man who was pleading with his audience to believe in Jesus. As he talked, I recognized he was quoting some of the verses I'd read earlier from the Bible. Some people heckled him and told him to shut and go home. Others listened intently because of the things he said about the disappearances being foretold in scripture, relating the missing people to the rapture.

I'd had enough trouble for one today, but I couldn't help being drawn in to hear what else he had to say. After all, my wife and son were among those who had vanished, and any more explanation about what happened could only help me understand better.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only son," the man said, "so that whoever would believe in him would not perish but have everlasting life."

"If he loved me so much," another man replied, "why did he take my family from me?"

"Because he gave us a chance to believe, to be saved from the wrath to come, but not everyone did," the preacher replied. "And when the time came to get those who did believe, he came and got them. And we were left behind."

"How are you saved then?" a woman asked, her tone and expression solemn. "Why didn't God take you too?"

The street preacher lowered head and his eyes grew moist. "Because I put off surrendering my life to Christ. I thought I had enough time." His voice cracked. "But I didn't."

"So, after the rapture happened, how did you get saved?"

"The same way that people did before. By believing in Jesus and asking him to forgive me and save me."

"But I've done a lot of bad things. I've lied and cheated. Stolen things. I've hurt people and even hated them."

"God forgives all who come to him. That's why Jesus came the first time. He didn't come to the world to condemn it; he came to save it. He came to seek and to save that which was lost."

"I lost my twenty-year-old daughter in the disappearances." The woman fell to her knees. "I want to be saved too. I want to see her again."

Others turned away while the preacher kneeled and prayed with the woman, but I watched, mesmerized. After he prayed with her, other people came, and he prayed with them too. I was intrigued. I wanted to approach him, but he was too busy talking and praying with those who sought salvation. He told everyone he worked at a soup kitchen for the homeless a few blocks away, and he invited everyone who wanted to, to come to a service there tomorrow night on Wednesday. The kitchen had a chapel behind it that the owner used for church services. The owner had been taken in the rapture, but the street preacher promised to keep the mission running as long as he could. I knew where it was because it was near a coffee shop I went to a lot.

As the praying came to an end and the people started to disperse, in the dying sunlight, a pair of military Humvees rounded a corner down the street. The vehicles pulled up to the curb and four soldiers exited decked out in sand-colored uniforms, helmets strapped under their chins, and M16 automatic rifles hanging around their necks.