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take the profits?
So, what's your stake in this, smarty-pants?
Rayford nearly laughed. Was he back on the playground in fourth grade? How had
he come to a shouting match with a total stranger?
As I said, I made no claim, but my stake now is to be sure nothing happens to
my friend's legacy that he didn't intend to happen.
He intended for me to have it, Ernie said. I told you that!
Ernie, Bo said, stick to your grease-monkeying and keep your nose outta
this, will ya? And wipe that smudge off your forehead. You look like a
snot-nosed rugrat.
Ernie tugged down on his cap and whirled around to busy himself under the hood
again. He was muttering, I'm takin' the stuff he said I could have, I'll tell
you that right now. You're not bullyin' me into giving up what I know is
rightfully mine. No way.
Rayford was disgusted with Ernie's obvious lies but even more so that he was
ashamed of the mark of God.
And then it hit him. Only other believers could see the mark. Was Rayford
arguing with a fellow tribulation saint? He looked quickly at Bo's forehead,
which, because of his haircut and his complexion and the breadth of his face,
had been right in front of Rayford's eyes the whole time.
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Even in the dense smog, Bo's skin was as clear as a baby's.
Buck felt restless. He sat across from Chaim Rosenzweig in the parlor of his
estate and was nearly overcome with compassion for the man. Doctor, he said,
how can you see and know and experience all we have endured" of us, even
all
you" last few years and yet still resist the call of God on your life?
these
Don't be offended. You know I care for you, as does Tsion and my wife and her
father. You told an international audience on TV that Ben-Judah was proven
correct in his interpretations of what is to come. Forgive me for being so
forward, but the time is
growing short.
I confess I haw been troubled, Rosenzweig said, especially since Ben-Judah
stayed with me. You have heard my arguments against God in the past, but no,
not even I can deny he is at work today. It is too plain. But I have to say I
don't understand your God. He seems mean-spirited to me. Why can he not get
people's attention through wonderful miracles, as he did in the Bible? Why
make things worse and worse until a person has no choice? I find myself
resisting being forced into this by the very one who wants my devotion. I want
to come willingly, on my own accord, if at all.
Buck stood and pulled back the drape. The skies were growing darker, and he
heard a low rumble in the distance. Should he stay away from the window? The
weather had not portended rain. What was the noise? He could see no more than
ten feet through the heavy smoke.
Doctor, God has blessed you beyond what any human deserves. If your wealth of
friends, education, knowledge, creativity, challenge, admiration, income, and
comfort do not draw you to him, what else can he do? He is not willing that
any should perish, and so he resorts to judgments that will drive them to him
or away from him forever. We're praying you will choose the former.
Rosenzweig appeared older than his age. Weary, drawn, lonely, he looked like
he needed rest. But life was hard everywhere. Buck knew everything would head
downhill from here. The old man crossed his legs, appeared uncomfortable, and
set his feet flat on the floor again. He seemed distracted, and he and Buck
had to raise their voices to even hear each other.
I must tell you that your praying for me means more than I can s" He furrowed
his brow. What is that noise?
The rumble had become higher pitched and had developed a metallic sound. It's
like chains clanging together, Buck said.
A low-flying craft?
The airports are closed, Doctor.
It's getting louder! And it's darker! It's dark as night out there. Open that
drape all the way, Cameron, please. Oh, my heavens!
The sky was black as pitch and the racket deafening. Buck spun to look at
Chaim, whose face matched Buck's own terror. Metal against metal clanged until
both men covered their ears. Rattling, thumping against the windows now, the
rumble had become a cacophony of piercing, irritating, rattling, jangling that
seemed it would invade the very walls.
Buck stared out the window, and his heart thundered against his ribs. From out
of the smoke came flying creatures"
hideous, ugly, brown and black and yellow
flying monsters. Swarming like locusts, they looked like miniature horses five
or six inches long with tails like those of scorpions. Most horrifying, the
creatures were
attacking, trying to get in. And they looked past Buck as if Chaim was their
target.
The old man stood in the middle of the room. Cameron, they are after me! he
screamed. Tell me I'm dreaming! Tell me it's only a nightmare!
The creatures hovered, beating their wings and driving their heads into the
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window.
I'm sorry, Doctor, Buck said, shuddering, his arms covered with gooseflesh.
This is real. It's the first of the three woes the angels warned about.
What do they want? What will they do?
Tsion teaches that they will not harm any foliage like locusts usually do,
but only those who do not have the seal of God on their foreheads. Chaim
paled, and Buck worried he might collapse. Sit down, sir. Let me open the
window"
No! Keep them out! I can tell they mean to devour me!
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