CHAPTER 8

Monica raised her hand. "No, he didn't!" She placed a calming hand on the seething Richard. "Lester sometimes got his numbers wrong when he was giving them to people. He did that once today, while we were inventorying his food."

Gloria set her gleaming china coffee cup on the table, then rose to her feet. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I'll find the right combination." She trotted out the drawing-room entrance. The others followed her.

"How can you find it?" Richard demanded, as they re-entered the cellar. The golden light still permeated the room; Richard had left the light on.

"Gloria has the mind of a computer. Don't worry; she will find the right combination," Monica assured him.

In rapid strides, Gloria made her way toward the safe. Peering down at the iron padlock, she cradled it in her palm for a long moment. She was determined to find the right combination. She felt confident that she'd be able to do so.

"It's probably not very different from the sequence of digits he gave us," she said. "It's just a matter of determining which digits he gave us incorrectly. And the correct directions to move the combination in."

For the next two minutes, silence descended throughout the cellar as Gloria focused on the padlock combination. At last, a broad smile spread across her face. "I got it!" she announced. "I got the right combination!"

Swiftly, she turned the combination one way, then the other, then the first way again. When she stopped it on the final number, she jerked it open and removed the padlock. "Voila!" She swung the safe door open. The others cheered and clapped.

Turning to Richard, she whipped a small spiral notebook out of her pocket and wrote the combination on a sheet of paper. "Here." She tore the sheet out of the notebook and handed it to Richard. "This is the combination, so keep it."

Smiling his thanks, Richard folded the paper and stuffed it into his pants pocket. Flipping on the switch, Tess entered the safe and took out four boxes of Tuna Helper and four cans of tuna. She stuck two packages of powdered nonfat milk under her arm. "We'd better make lunch right now," she ordered, "because we're about to have company, and our visitors are going to be starving."

"Company?" Mark and Richard exchanged puzzled glances.

"Yes." Leaving the safe, Tess stopped in front of them. "Even as I speak, some angels are bringing some neighbors here, and we need to prepare some food for them. So let's get back upstairs and get started. Since this will be your first time distributing food and since you're as hungry as our visitors, I'll cook supper for you all."

She turned the light inside the safe off, then marched toward the stairs. The others followed.

Sure enough, back in the kitchen, as Tess opened the fourth box of Tuna Helper, the doorbell in the foyer jangled. The supervisor angel had already mixed a pitcher of nonfat milk; it stood open on the counter.

"I'll get it," Monica said. "You come with me, Mark."

The two of them hurried down the hall toward the foyer and opened the front door. A group of men, women, and toddlers stood on the porch, all of them skinny and stick-limbed. Their eyes looked too big in their sunken faces. One of the children, evidently two, had a thumb in her mouth. The other toddlers leaned on their parent's shoulders. The angels had evidently left them as soon as they'd brought the visitors to the porch.

"May we help you?" A warm smile of welcome spread on Monica's face.

One of the men gestured toward the others, then pointed at himself. "We don't know exactly why we're here, but some angels came to see us and told us to come to Lester Larson's mansion. They brought us here, too."

Mark and Monica exchanged a glance. "Lester Larson just died," Mark said, "but he's bequeathed his home to my brother and me. Come on in; we know why you're here."

"Yes." Monica's smile looked kind and comforting. "God has brought you here, so you can have something to eat. You haven't eaten in days, have you?" Grimacing, the people shook their heads.

Mark nodded agreement. "Come on in. Lunch is not ready yet, but it will be, before long."

Minutes later, gleaming china plates of steaming hot Tuna Helper lined up the long table in the spacious dining room. Crystal glasses of nonfat dry milk stood next to the plates. Gloria had covered the table with a glistening white tablecloth and set vases of flowers in its middle. Mark, Richard, and their visitors took their places, bowing their heads while Tess asked the blessing.

"I'm only giving you all small portions, this time," Tess told them. "You're suffering from malnutrition, so you must be careful of what you choose to eat. Don't worry, you won't return to your homes still starving. This first meal is only the beginning."

For the next half-hour, talk gave way to chewing; only the toddlers broke that silence with their jabber. The long-standing ache and emptiness in Richard's and Mark's stomachs gave way to a satisfying sense of fullness.

When everyone had enjoyed their fill, Richard and Mark rose to their feet and approached the angels. "This is the first time in a long time we've been able to eat much of anything," Richard said, in a low voice. "We want to thank you."

"We sure do." A grateful smile spread across Mark's face as he brushed his hair out of his eyes. "You've saved us from starvation, and for that, we thank you. You're an answer to prayer, if there ever was one!"

"God always answers prayer, Mark." Monica touched his shoulder. Her pearl earrings shone in the overhead light illuminating the dining room. "He will always see you through trials and tribulation, no matter how bad they get. And the trials you and Richard are facing are going to get much worse before they get better." She clasped her hands in front of her waist.

"That's right." Tess turned to Richard. "Now's the time to turn your life over to God, Richard. Has Mark ever instructed you on how to do that?"

"Yeah." Richard grimaced. "He wasted no time sharing it all with me, as soon as he became a Christian. A little over three-and-a-half years ago." He sighed, then shook his head. "I didn't want to hear it, though—I told him to leave me alone."

He glanced at his brother, then frowned. "Is it true what he said, back then? About—about this being a seven-year Tribulation? He—he tried to tell me it was, but I didn't want to believe it." He bit his lower lip. "I'm not sure I want to now."

"Well, you will have to believe it, because he's right. Yes, it is true, Richard." Tess' voice grew somber, her face solemn. She folded her arms across her chest. "And the vast majority of people are going to die while it's in progress. Those who accept the new chip implant and worship Puccini's image will have no hope of salvation, but will be doomed to Hell. And they will die physically, either while the Tribulation's in progress or when Jesus comes back." She paused. "Enforcement of the implant hasn't come to this area yet, but it will. Already, no one can buy or sell without it; soon, you won't be able to pay your utility bills without it either. Lester was able to bribe the local utility company into continuing his service—and yours—by giving bars of gold to certain employees in that company. Soon, though, it will take more than his gold to keep it going. Your electricity and gas will be cut off when that happens."

Mark and Richard exchanged apprehensive glances as she spoke. Tess shook her head, sadness in her eyes.

"A numberless multitude of Tribulation believers will be executed for refusing to take it. Their souls will be safe, however. And their bodies will be resurrected when Jesus returns. Those who refuse to turn to Him for mercy, though, will die in under three-and-a-half years or less. They will go to Hell, then they will be cast into the Lake of Fire, totally separated from God forever."

"I see." Richard bit his lower lip. "All that sounds terrible." Tess nodded agreement. "In a way, though, that enforcement you speak of has come." He shook his head. "Already, as you said, Tess, none of us can buy or sell without that stupid implant. I know we wouldn't have been able to keep our utilities going this long, either, if it hadn't been for Lester's arrangement with the local utility company. Guess I'm a stubborn coot—I'd rather take my chances than take that implant. Even when I'm starving. My wife preferred that, too."

"You're a wise man to see it that way." Tess' eyes softened, then grew warm with evident approval. For a second, she glanced at Gloria, standing near the dining table, ready to refill someone's glass or plate. She turned back to Richard. "That, however, is not enough. God wants you to become His child, by receiving His Son into your heart." She fixed her gaze on him. "Are you ready to do that?"

END OF CHAPTER 8

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