Tori shared a glance with Brianna. “Just like the Scripture says.”
The scene changed to a crowded freeway where cars and trucks crept along, bumper to bumper. Honking horns, loud mufflers, and shouts filled the air as they inched along. People with suitcases and backpacks slogged along the sides of the roads, some with small children in tow.
“Why are they leaving?” Thomas asked.
Tori glanced over her shoulder. “They are realizing who Aali really is, that he is the Antichrist and not their real Messiah.”
Huffing, Thomas took a sip of his soup, hoping it would stay down. A longing ripped through him to be back in the game with Aali in Jerusalem, to be one of the power-players in the Global Government. Instead of sitting here with a sleeping child in the worst slums he could imagine. Starving. Miserable. With nothing to his name.What had he done?
The soup soured in his stomach, and he nearly vomited it back up. Setting the mug on the floor, he continued watching the TV, where torrential rains made it difficult to see the cars anymore.
The male reporter stood beneath a large umbrella. “Odd, but it was sunny just a moment ago, and now this downpour came out of nowhere. Never saw it rain this hard in Israel.”
Sara moaned and Brianna knelt and placed a cool cloth on her head. “Now the flood will happen.”
Tori smiled. “Yeah, but God’s got this.”
What the heck were they talking about? Thomas sighed and rubbed his temples, hoping to alleviate the pain.
The rain continued, and the newscasters switched to other news as Tori and Brianna attended Sara, managing this time to get her on her feet.
Thomas attempted to get up to help, but the little girl in his arms snuggled closer and his head pounded stronger. Reaching for his soup, he drank more, and then some more, his stomach finally accepting the food.
An hour or two passed, or maybe it just seemed that long. Sara was now sitting up, blinking and breathing heavily, but more alert than he’d ever seen her. Long dark hair, streaked in bright blue highlights fell past her shoulders, while a sleeve of ink decorated her entire right arm. Thomas couldn’t tell what the tattoo pictured, if anything, though he wasn’t a fan of so much ink on a woman’s nice skin.
The same two reporters appeared on the TV again, this time at a different location, much higher up than before, and both wearing rain garb.
“Oh my God, it’s a flash flood!” the woman shouted, turning from looking behind her to the camera. “It’s going to swallow up all those poor people on the freeway!”
The scene was filled with the same highway as before, crowded with people and cars, but then the camera zeroed in on a giant wall of water several feet high heading straight for them.
Tori gripped Brianna’s hand as they stared at the screen. Thomas thought he heard them praying.
“Nearly five inches of rain has fallen in the past hour,” the male reporter said, “overflowing the Jordan and creating this rushing flood of deadly debris that will surely kill all those innocent people!”
Thomas had never seen anything like it. Did they intend to show the massacre on TV? Yet he could hardly tear his gaze away.
The reporters said nothing more as the horrifying scene filled the screen.
The water was nearly on the people now. Cars had stopped, Passengers were getting out to stare at the incoming flood. Thomas could not imagine the terror they were experiencing.
The scene shook violently back and forth for several seconds before the screen went blank. Finally, a voice, aterrifiedvoice came through the speakers. “We’ve had an earthquake. Eitan, get the camera back on.”
Muffled voices, shouting, a scream, and deep breaths emerged from the speakers.
Scenes flashed across the TV before it went dark again. After several seconds, it flicked on. The woman reporter, hair askew and with a terrified look in her eyes, held the mic to her lips. “I don’t know the intensity of the quake, but it was a huge one.” She pressed her ear, then glanced behind her. “Look! The people are still alive. The highway is intact, and the cars and people are still there. Pan in on where the wave was before the quake, Eitan.”
The scene zoomed in on the location beside the freeway. A massive rift etched across the earth parallel to the freeway. Steam rose from the fissure as what was left of the flood trickled over the side and disappeared.
???
Zarall glanced at his friend, Arithem, dressed in his military best, complete with a white robe that hung to his knees, a gold sash displaying his various medals, and a brass-plated belt into which were strapped his favorite weapons, including his red laser sword. Tall leather boots laced in gold, and a helmet bearing the insignia of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies completed the ensemble. “I’ve never seen you look so good, Arithem.”
Arithem glanced his way. “Noryoulook so nervous.”
“’Tis not every day we are summoned to the throne room.” In truth, Zarall had only been called individually before the Commander once before. Shifting his shoulders, he felt uncomfortable in his dress uniform, for he normally wore his battle attire. He hated leaving his ward, especially in the dire straits in which she currently found herself. He glanced around the outer chamber of the throne room, what the Hebrews called the Court of the Gentiles. In heaven, ’twas where those with an appointment to see the King waited.
Several other angels stood behind them, friends he’d known for millennia. Redeemed saints, now blessed to be in their glorified bodies, also waited for an audience with the Lord, though He oft walked through the city to spend time with each one.
