Prologue:
An modern American nightmare,
I fervently hope and pray this never becomes more than a bad dream of twisted fantasy. The Gog- Magog war, and the tribulation of the saints are no joking matters.
Some may think that I have taken some liberties, with the standard Biblical apocalyptic references, it has not been my intention or desire to change, distort, or twist GODs word at all, rather, to take things in a more directly literal sense. While partially based upon various Biblical prophecies this is not intended as a prophetic work, this is merely a work of fiction, utilizing elements of the Bible, and Islamic eschatology as well as recent political events as part of the plot structure. This is a great
" What if ? "
What if the apocalypse, tribulation was more horrible than popular writers have conveyed?
What if, the rapture, when the saints are caught up, only happens in the end of tribulation?
What if all the accepted tales, of a pre-tribulation rapture, the source and identity of the Beast/antichrist, were wrong?
What if...
What if there was far more literal meaning in Biblical prophecies than has been interpreted over the last two centuries?
What if good ole unca sugar, uncle sam is not found mentioned in Biblical prophecies simply because, the U.S. Was no longer capable of doing anything because of a non existent economy, storm devastations, solar flare ups, terrible politics, man made viral out breaks, and a military worn down by decades long wars,
What if the U.S. Dissolved, into factions, a brutal circumstance like the Balkans of Europe ( Yugoslavia post Tito) in the 90's, with genocides, revolutions, civil wars, ethnic cleansing, inter cultural warfare. Serbs vs Everyone, Croats, Albanians, Bosnians, and all the rest of the genotypes and cultures known to the region against everyone, one against all , all versus one, enemies amongst enemies, confusion, chaos, evil unleashed.
What if...
What if, we have been sold childlike fantasies, fairy tales to believe, lies that deceive, in a world that is built upon nightmares?
What if, light, can only shine in darkness?
What if the dawn, the promise of light, only follows the darkness of night?
Anyone interested in the facts, I must refer to the Bible, it is there that truth will be found in the Word of GOD.
Do not trust me to get it right, Trust only HIS Word, not fantasy, not distorted visions, to reveal the light.
the Only way out of darkness,
is to follow the SON.
*****++++++++++*****
PROLOGUE:
"I don’t care! It aint about politics, It is about right and wrong!” Spitting on the ground he turned and stalked away crumpling the pepsi can and throwing it into the open back of the blazer as he got in, started it up and drove off. The group of good old boys watched him drive away, baffled by Mikes sudden outburst and reaction. Michael was usually the calm one, reasonable. This was a new face for their friend.
Mike drove down the red clay dirt road, the anger still steaming off him like steam from a kettle. He could not understand why they didn’t get it. The news was filled, night after night with the sickening images from Syria and the atrocities of Daesh the Taliban, and countless other terror regimes. Yet the government seemed intent on doing nothing while giving the least appearance of action. Politics as usual. Politics had nothing to do with wrong or right, only convenience and expediency. Fubar,( f*ck#d up beyond all recognition) the standard state of the world it seemed to him. Most of his friends and neighbors were too wrapped up in the big two-party argument to think for themselves. A country divided within itself, Democrat vs Republican, neither party really cared about right or wrong, all they cared for was the favors and connections needed to acquire and maintain political power. Meanwhile as the world burned, the media served as pack of 21st century Nero’s fiddling while everything burned. Doing their utmost to distract, divide, and confuse the people. The wars of terror and violence, the fear mongering was great for ratings. High ratings led to high profits. High profits motivated both the corrupt political powers and their media mouthpieces. Right, wrong, good and evil meant nothing to these servants of greed.
Shaking his head as he drove back home. Home, where Laura waited. Laura, His wife was the only thing keeping him here in the states. For the thousand and first time he thought about the job offer. The money would be extremely handy, with the wrecked economy and 2 ex-wives constantly crying for more. More and more that was never enough. Neither one of his exes seemed to understand the concept of budget or economy, one of the many reasons both marriages failed. Mike was still trying to figure out an argument that would convince Laura that the job was a good Idea. Laura did not care about the money, all she seemed to be concerned with was Mike being gone for a year. A year spent in the Middle East training the Peshmerga for their fight against Daesh.
The Kurds were the only effective fighting force in the field against Daesh. The armies of Iraq and Syria were in constant retreat. Hell, 20 years in Uncle Sam’s Army Had left Mike with few real world skills. His retirement was completely eaten up in alimony and child support. Leaving Mike with no choice but to scrabble hard to make ends meet. Thirty eight years old, and working dead-end jobs in the economic shambles of post covid America, with only the occasional bounty which were few and far between blessings. Laura did not like it when Mike kitted up and went to work picking up bail skips. Far from a pacifist, Laura was worried for Mikes safety. She hated seeing him shrug into his bullet proof vest, and blue and yellow Bail Enforcement agent jacket. She really hated seeing him with his .357 on his side and shotgun in hand, walking out the door. She was terrified each and every time that he wouldn't come home again, that she would wake up in the middle of the night to a Sheriffs officer at her door telling her Mike wouldn't be coming home. Mike did not know it, but, Laura cried herself to sleep each and every night he was working. She would never let it on to him. She kept that secret far from him. It was her only secret.
Mike pulled into the long gravel driveway, stopping to get out and check the mail. Then driving slowly up to the house.
Laura would be surprised to see him back so soon. Mike had planned on an overnight fishing trip with his friends, and here he was and it wasn’t even dark yet. Mike just couldn't handle listening to the shallow arguments about the war on terror, the war in Syria, the constant bomb them back to the stone age comments. Damn, bombing couldn't work, the problem with that was, most of the problem areas were still in the stone age! Damn fools who had never seen the elephant let alone seen anything firsthand of the third world couldn't understand that. How to explain the reality of most of this sad world to people that had never seen or experienced the madness and horror that most of the world called reality.
In the nineties Mike had been tasked to an “observer” mission in Zaire and Rwanda, He had seen first hand the horrors, and the evil of his fellow-men. After that the missions to the Balkans, the mass graves, the genocides of Africa and the Balkans, the ritual cannibalism of the Hutu’s and Tutsi’s, seeing young girls with their hands and feet cut off, their breasts cut off so they couldn't nurse their babies. Mike had come to understand the depths of evil humans were capable of. The evils of the Balkans were just as bad, if slightly different than Central Africa. Both missions had been pointless as far as Mike was concerned. Both missions achieved nothing other than the scant appearance of doing, something, while watching and doing nothing.
You do not send US Army Rangers to watch. The things that plagued Mike were not a single time he had ever had to kill in battle. The guilt Mike carried came from watching, from not killing the evil bastards committing the evils he had been ordered to watch and submit reports about. And here it was happening all over again, nothing seemed to change. A Democrat controlled government, making noises about human rights while doing nothing other than lining their pockets. Of course, the Republicans were just as bad, merely the flip side of the same political coin.
Mike pulled up next to the cabin, and sat, gathering himself together, tears threatening, he could feel the bitter sting of sorrow mixed with fury burn in his eyes. Breathing deep, he wiped the tears away, composing himself before going inside to Laura. He did not want to worry her, and decided yet again that he had no good argument for what he desperately wanted, what he believed he needed to do. A few steps from the truck, three steps up onto their front porch, and breathing deep, he jerked the front door open, “Hello baby! I am back!”
Laura had heard the old Blazer coming up the driveway, she knew the sound well. Wondering what had brought Mike home so early, she was just stepping into the front room as Mike came through the door, A huge smile on his face as he called to her, seeing her, he swept her up, and hugged her tight burying his face in her long red hair, “ I missed you baby! I love you, let’s go get some barbeque!” She knew something was wrong, but Mike’s infectious grin prevented her from asking, so she just kissed him and smiled back. “It’s all about the pig, has all you can eat ribs tonight!” Laura was sold, It’s all about the pig had the best and most varied Barbecue Laura had ever tasted. The rundown restaurant looked like something out of a bad b movie, but the menu had both mustard as well as hickory sweet sauce plus Texas bbq…not to mention the hushpuppies, Laura’s mouth was already watering.
“So put me down and let me get my shoes on!” she laughed and set about getting herself ready. Mike smiled watching her get ready, knowing it would be a little while, as she primped, checked her makeup and scurried about. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, though she surprised him he had only time for a couple of sips before she announced “Let’s go Darling! The line will be out to parking lot if we don’t hurry!” Putting down his coffee cup, Mike decided to take the classic restored 73 Trans Am tonight. He didn't know it yet, but that was one of the more crucial decisions he had ever made. Would ever make.
It is the little things that matter most. Those small details that mold the future more surely than the big splashy media events could ever lay claim to.
