FINDER
I love the idea of using the Greek word for Finder as the main character’s name… maybe that could even work into the title?
The headlines are talking. They say that there are only an estimated 6000 Followers left worldwide and about 10 percent of them may be found in North America. China claims to have wiped them out altogether, while India believes that they can be rehabilitated. Those headlines were from two days ago blaring through my Blue Tooth and YAHWEH alone knows how many of us are left.
But after 80 - 100 years of persecution, since the Government’s war on the Followers, we’ve learned how to hide in plain sight. It takes a lot more money living in The Cities than in the communes where I was raised. But after they found our camp, about forty people strong, maybe 34 of us all told were BORNAGAINSAVED. The others were people we’d find on the road hungry, alone, broken; designated appointments from YAHWEH – well after they found our camp . . . well, I’ve been living in cities since then. They called us something else then, but the name has been lost. Now they just call us walking dead or religious trash. Either way it’s all the same. If they catch us, then it’s the Big Show: no ifs, ands, or but’s. Even on the news feeds, we’re “they,” or “suspects,” or “fanatics” and never our names. We’re the nameless ones.
That’s how we can tell true Followers from the government plants they keep sending us. You can tell by the scars we carry. Many of us grow our hairs (why is this plural? Is there a reason?) long to hide our missing ears. We also wear the new, stylish fashion masks to hide our missing noses, or our missing lips. (Why are these missing? There should be an explanation at some point.)The whole world is tolerant -except to those who follow The Way. I remember being a FOLLOWEROFTHEWAY. I remember being theophilos my father, Peter, leader of the Church of Sacramento. Then it all turns into mist and fog and wind.
Now I am a FINDER. (or just plain “Finder” – in Greek?)
I don’t exactly remember how I ended up living in The City. But I fit in. I don’t say much (“let your yay be yay . . . your nay, nay.”), but I listen. And I have this knack. This ability to silence my . . . I don’t know… Let’s call it the soul. I have this ability to silence my soul and get it pointed towards the thing you are looking for. I live in The City, so I don’t come cheap. And let me tell you, to buy the kind of freedom I can afford, I had to build a reputation. If you haven’t heard, I never fail. Whether you like it or not, I will find you the thing whatever it is that you are looking for.
Now here I sit treated worse than a Gypsey (they were allowed to vote last year by President Chin). Handcuffs too tight and needing a toilet. Eight years in The City and I’ve been here only three times. For a FOLLOWEROFTHEWAY that’s a miracle. But here in The City it’s my reputation that protects me. I’ve had no need of YAHWEHs’ protection since the camps; since before The City. But for me, three times is too many!
And as always, I sit in front of Officer Sotto’s desk.
“. . . and if you’re gonna pretend that you’re from The City, maybe you should work a lil’ harder on that accent of yours’.” Usually I listen, but he’d been going on for a while, like he was talking to one of his kids or something. Now he’s pointing his pen at me, “If you think you’re protected than you’ve got another thing coming.”
Now he’s got my attention. “You know dat I’m listening. I‘m always listen so there no reason por trets (if he can’t make a “th” sound here, he can’t make it there either. Consistency.) Joe.” I show him my handcuffed wrist, “Now why you bring me in like dis? You know all you gotta do is call me. So, you please take dees op?”
He waves his pen towards my wrist and ‘snick!’ the handcuffs drop onto my lap. “You know, some people say that you’re one of them; the nameless ones. You don’t look like a nameless one theo.” Looking around the squad room, it’s all the same. Interactive 3D Hollos that had everybody Googled into Facebook Digital Securities. (I love your Facebook and Google tie ins, that is so cool!) Like every other City, if you weren’t Facebooked, you didn’t exist. If you weren’t Facebooked you were destitute with no way to buy or sell, no way to work or to get paid. If you weren’t Facebooked, you were probably a Follower. There were cameras all over the ceilings and Detective Sotto had one of those tiny little point of view cameras perched almost hidden by his left temple. All these cameras reminding me of the Big Brother my father preached about. (Big Brother was always capitalized – to show how ominous is was in 1984!)
“You could heb called. I always answer, ya?” He nods at me. “So why da hard sell? I’m regular at dat place. I eat der ebery day. All you heb to do was Googel me and all dis would heb been unnecessary.” With the word “Google” random cameras turn towards me as the closest interactive screen turns in the direction of my voice waiting on the wings of a question. Like the THIRDSPIRIT hovering over my shoulder ready to translate my words to YAHWEH’s ears’. “Now can I please use a batroom?” He nods. As I get up and walk toward an aisle(“isle” = island) between desks I say “Googel Men’s Batroom” and an interactive pegs and maps me towards the hall to the right.
In the restroom was peace and privacy. The only place the constitution still stands. I needed to think, to get my bearings. Ever since I picked up this new consumer looking for a Finder: Ever since the currency was transferred to my existing balance weird things have (keep your tenses consistent, either past or present, if he’s in the present, talk present, etc.) been happening. Since I first picked up this assignment, this case, I’ve been unable to find the silence within me. That silence that helps point me towards the thing you seek. It felt as if I were surrounded by static that would charge the silence with electricity like the Trans (if this is like BART, then you want to capitalize all of it or at least the T – otherwise it just looks like a misspelling of trains – or put quotation marks around it to show that it’s an abreviation) that moved people downtown.
After washing my face and dampening my hair, I was ready. As ready as I was going to be. There was no way around this but the truth. I dried my hands in one of those outdated Dyson Blades’ which meant that I had to dry my hands on my shirt. You’d think with the Fraternal Order of Police owning all firearm sales that they’d be able to afford a real HydroVac instead of these antiquated Blades. I wondered if the officers used a different lavatory.
As I returned to Joes’ desk, I noticed that he has (tense) company. She was petite, about 5’6” with silver platinum curls that hung to her shoulders. She had a fashion mask colored to match her hair. The whiskers on the mask were USB antennae’s that fed information to a screen on the eye guards. I noticed a POV camera disguised as an emerald on the center of the masks’ forehead. The mask was top-of-the –line Android Tech. The girl was loaded with currency, and I don’t mean just digital. She was wearing real leather boots which means that she had money to spend outside of North America. Real money, the kind you folded up and counted and carried around with you. Real money instead of Google currency.
The kinds of money the PayPal Banks are still killing people over. I felt the static ebb and silence whisper loudly to me, like wind from east to west, moving me towards the desk, guiding me to my chair, channeling the words into my mouth, affecting my sight and feelings. I began to see like “scales falling from my eyes.” She was just a girl. Her wealth hid how lost she was. I could see the sadness like heat waves radiating from her. The image of her heart held in both hands was super imposed over her and behind her was a radiance that surrounded her like a halo. Joe just looked at me, stared.
“Took you long enough theophilos. Now that you’re all pretty, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. I’d like you to help her.” This admission of need must have killed him a little inside. “Look, I know that you’re protected from some past by something from your past. You must’ve done some work for some real important people theo, but if I put my full weight on looking into your past, what d’ya think I’ll find?” At this he smiled.
I turned from watching the girl and gave him my full attention. “You’ll pind whateber you pind. It is what it is.” His smile widened at this. “That’s the kind of answer a Follower would make. She needs your help theophilos. I couldn’t think of anyone but you.” The girl looked at me and smiled. The radiance behind her swelled to nova bright – bright enough to nearly hurt.
“Joe Sotto say’s that you’re a FINDER. He says that you’re the best . . .” I raise an eyebrow at Joe, “Is that true Mr. theophilos? Because I’ll pay anything . . . in money or currency, whichever you wish.” Again the smile. I wondered to myself whether the smile was enhanced by pheromones or whether she was born with it. The nova went super once more.
I turn and face detective Sotto, “Listen Joe, I hebent pinished my last commission and he’s already transperred currency. I can’t take anader case. Not wid-out returning currency and I’b already spent hap op it.”
Without missing a beat he says, “She’ll pay the refund, and she’ll pay for you to take up that assignment again. I know how you pride yourself in finding – to – finish. I know how you Finders’ are. Your reputation will remain intact. I’ll contact your current consumer and inform him of the need of the police for your services.”
“Please Mr. theophilos” she pleads. And I felt the silence speak through me.
“Ip you can get my current consumer to gib up his case till I’m done here, den I agree. You can Googel my terms and agree to da contract when he’s conceded.”
“I agree to your terms Mr. theophilos.” And with that I acquired a new consumer. I tossed the cuffs on detectives Sotto’s desk and we left together. He smiles and adjusts’ his POV, turns to his monitor to contact the replaced consumer with the proper authorized print out and he soon forgets about the FINDER.

LOST
The parking garage was the usual stacks of vehicles rising up both sides of the epoxy walkway. I walk up to the auto-teller and slide my card into the slot. After being Googled, the currency was deducted from my account. Google made sure I was Facebooked which then approved the PayPal transaction. Once approved, they extracted my KIA from its designation and the car pulls automatically to a stop in front of us. “Nice” she says. With the fashion mask on, her voice was transmitted through a set of BOSS implanted on the surface of the mask hidden by whisker antennae. Just by looking at me, the mask translates my face and compares it to all Facebook accounts and transmits my BIO for her to read. Right now, she knew more about me than I did about her. I rarely wore those fashion masks.
Seated in my car, we wait for the seats to mold to our forms as the engine comes silently to life. “Where to?”
“I can give Guidance the address if you want” she says reaching for the keyboard.
“Are you hungry” I ask.
“A little.” I reach for the keyboard and type in ‘Manila Grill’ and press enter. Guidance pegs us and lights up the forward windows with directions, seemingly painting the street green in the direction recommended by Guidance. Yellow streets mean slower traffic, and red streets meant that the particular road is on the way out of Guidance’s grid. Old roads and streets that existed underneath the infrastructure of these current cities. Today’s cities are built on top of the bones of those that existed before them. We kept on the green-line.
Love it!
Love it!
“Good,” I say, “I’m starbing. Maybe I can pinish dis meal widout interruption. Do you like Pilipino pood? Dis place is da real deal. Dey make MokoLoco wid real SPAM.” If I could’ve sped up without Google docking currency, I would have. As it was, I planned to use the time to get to know my new consumer.
“No, I’ve never had Filipino food. I thought there were no more Filipinos?
I look out the front window, pretending to be reading Guidance. “Der are no more Catolic Pilipinos. All dat are lept are Morros and Serbants of ALLAH. Dey are still Pilipinos, and dey serb otentic Pilipino pood. I promise you’ll like it. I tink. Just remember . . .”
“. . . not to ask what I’m eating” she finished. “I know theo. I’ve never had any, but I’m sure I can Google whatever I’m eating.” I can tell by her eyes that she’s smiling. I wish she’d take off the mask but like they say, “Fashion B4 Comfort.” I see that sticker all over. I’ve never bought into that one.
I Googled up some music, the Classics like Mariah Carey, Rolling Stones and the Police. I was still young when I remember my father listening to this music. It brought back good memories, these classics. She didn’t seem to care one way or the other. I figured her for one of those people who listen to the sounds picked up from space as music. That wasn’t music to me. Just a bunch of noise blaring. They say that it’s the music that ALLAH listens to. If it’s not classic, than it’s just noise to me. But she seemed to be enjoying herself as she looks out the window. I relax as I slowly guide the car to our destination as the music drifts out the window, forever lost.

LUCK
It seems like the driving sequence gets lost in the middle of the restaurant sequence… would it be better kept together with the driving sequence above? It seems to break up the storyline in the restaurant….
The meal was good, and authentic, with those little boy’s in short-shorts, and those little flat-chested girls too afraid to look you in the eye. I progressed through the meal without thinking. I was paying attention to my consumer.
“Prudence.”
“What” she says looking at me, putting her “authentic plastic spork” down on her” authentic styrophome plate”. “Are you Facebooking or were you talking to me?”
I lean forward and touched the tip of her nose with my spork, crossing her eyes “Dat’s your name, Prudence.”
“No it’s not . . .” she begins, but I interrupt her. “Its da name dat you are going to go by. I will get to know da real you. Prom now on, where eber I take you, you’ll be known as Prudence, ya?”
“Yes.” She began to reach for her fashion mask when I touched her hand shaking my head. “Not right now, okay. Let’s pinish our meal. The Pilipino’s believe dat you should be able to see your meal companions while you converse. I tink they would find it impolite.”
“But they won’t say anything will they? I didn’t think they were that forward.” She says looking around at our servers.
“It’s still impolite . . .” I mumble around my food, watching her watching the servers, her hand hovering over her mask. I could feel the pull of her search; the thing she is needing, but it was still lost to me – just out of reach and trying harder was not possible. I can’t make it happen. Either it comes or it doesn’t and there is no trying about it.
As one of the servers walk by, he taps my table twice and casually looks over his shoulder by the door. This wasn’t good. It meant that we (or I) had been followed. And should anyone take a real close look, they might realize just how much “REAL” money was sitting here eating SPAM with an “authentic plastic spork.” I may have to do some killing if I don’t watch our step closely. I turn casually and follow his gaze and spot the tail. I hated killing. “Why are you being pallowed?” I try to ask casually. She looks around, but I don’t worry. She’s been looking around like that since I took her down to lil’ Makati, the Filipino part of town. They say that the Philippines was the last bastion of the FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY before they succumbed to the Morros and Servants of ALLAH. Right here is a slice of that culture.
I think that they were once called the ‘silent minority’. There’s no place on this earth where you won’t find them. In the kitchens of homes and restaurants; in the hospitals of veterans and the wealthy; in the tent clinics and abortion services; they’re clerks, and servants, and waiters and janitors. They’re teachers and body guards and cooks and secretaries and translators. They’re everywhere but you never see them unless you know what to look for. But here in lil Makati, they speak their dialects to each other, and they dress in their short-shorts and their PBA t-shirts, laughing and singing. Here they can be themselves.
Manila Town attracts some very rough people. And yet, the real attraction in lil’ Makati is that anyone can come here and not stand out. On this little piece of Gaia, anyone is free to act the fool and no one even bats an eye. I have always felt so at home here. Where technology is about 10-15 years behind the rest of the ecosphere. There are no street surveillance or hoover (unless they’re made by the vacuum cleaner company...) cams. About 3 miles from lil’ Makati, Guidance starts pegging the streets red. 2 miles from lil’ Makati and Guidance turns over control of the KIA and I had to drive it in manually. Prudence was amazed at this particular function of the vehicle. She’d never known that all vehicles carry this driving option. Most people don’t even know what manual piloting is. You see them in the old 8mm and seedeez from the past. But most people don’t realize that all vehicles still have them. The new KIA’s have the best auto & manual handling and the most current Bluetooth and Android tech. I love driving manual but it makes everyone else who rides with me nervous.
From one of the mirrors on the far wall, I see another man (similarly dressed as the first man), you can use the parenthesis to explain the clothing similarities (less awkward that way), but if you use one comma you also want to use the other.)sit down with him. As a waiter walks up to their table, I see them wave the man away and I notice them look out the front window at another one (unnecessary, “another” = one) of their men. I begin to wonder how many I was going to have to kill to get Prudence out of Manila Town when I see a little boy about ten years old walk in with his tray of cigarettes and “panty roses”. The cigarettes are considered illegal and the only two places to buy it them are: Manila Town in Santa Cruz California, or lil’ (lil’ is the abbreviation for little) Honduras which is in the Florida Keys. I waved the boy over to our table. He nods, smiles and comes over.
“So how exactly does this finding stuff works? When can we get started?” she asks’ (no apostrophe here)giving me her full attention when I needed it the least. When she focused her attention on me I could feel her need pulling at me when I needed my concentration the most. It was hard to pull out of the silence and back into focus.
“Not right now, Prudence,” I tell her as I turn my attention to the boy and the tails sitting down by the entrance pretending not to watch us. I pretended not to notice them as I smiled at the boy. “Magkano ang cigarillo ninyo?” Inquiring about the prices of his cigarettes, I hand him my card asking him his name . . . “Ano ang pangalan mo?”
“Miguel . . .” he says. Confirmation!
“Do you heb any real money on you?” I ask Prudence.
“I didn’t know you spoke their language. What did you say to him?” she says as she searches through the purse hidden on her belt. “How much do you need?”
“Whateber you heb. Real money is so rare now; eben a twenty will get you more dan currency can. And you can’t pallo real money.” She hands me a hundred. This much genuine money would be able to feed a family of four for a month and a half here in the Central Coast.
I show the boy $100 in real money and pull it away as the boy begins to reach for it. “Ibibigay ko ito sa iyo, pero kailangan ko ang tulong mo,” and I point to the two by the door with my lips. “Nakakaintindi ba tayo?” I ask. I point to the two tails, seeing if he understood this old dialect. He nods.
“Oh sige kuya. PBA block pare.” he says as he reaches for the money. I let him take it and signal Prudence to gather her things. “Just wait por it. When I get up to go, I want you stuck to me. I’ll need my hands pree but I want you to stick bery close, dis might get dicey. Do you understand?”
She nods assent just as Miguel walks up to their table and begins talking to them despite their waving him away.
Since I’m a regular here, they keep an account open for me when I bring my consumers or other business into their establishment. I spend a lot of time here and believe it or not, this is not the first time that I’ve had to leave my meal in a hurry and unfinished.
I watch as Miguel begins emptying his box of miscellaneous cigarettes onto the pair’s table. I watch as their agitation increases and other bugoys, or kids who roam the streets selling anything they could get their hands on to anyone with something to trade, come up to the table and began trying to sell their wares as well.
As one of the tails, the largest one with the stupid look on his face, gets up to push the street kids away. The owner and some waiters come out to investigate the commotion. A crowd starts to form and I nod to Prudence as I get up from the table and walk into the restaurant. I look over my shoulder to make sure she was following and to confirm that the tails were distracted. They were.
So we moved, and we moved fast.
I was amazed at how close she stuck to me. While Miguel, the manager and the wait staff surrounded them, we moved. We headed x out towards the patio on the side; the overflow, that’s where we walked toward: (redundant, they were already walking towards it…) quickly. (by moving “quickly” here, the sentence flows more understandably). Okay let me try this… now I’m getting confused here (sigh…): We headed quickly through the side “overflow” area and out onto the patio.
You’re going to have to settle on which tense you want to speak in… If you switch tenses, you have to switch paragraphs, or create a transition between past, present and future tenses.
You’re going to have to settle on which tense you want to speak in… If you switch tenses, you have to switch paragraphs, or create a transition between past, present and future tenses.
I heard the voices fade as we came out into the side patio and out (you don’t want to use “out” twice in the same sentence)onto the street when , but I could see that we were spotted by the driver. I took us down the side their car was parked and I watched the driver watching us in the side mirror. He casually got out if his car and came around to our side and watched ing us.
I pretended to ignore him as I walked toward him. I timed it . . . as his eyes darted towards the restaurant, my hand came up and with my arm outstretched, fingers extended and stiff, I jabbed with all my 160 lbs. into his Adams apple. I watched him buckle onto the cement sidewalk as he grabs grabbed (tense) for his throat. I reached in, pretending to help him and take took his gun from his holster, stick . I stuck it in my belt and pushed Prudence toward the passenger side of his car, “Time to get going.”
She nods, opens the passenger door and crawls in. I try to casually enter the driver’s side when one of the tails in (in or from? Has he come outside now, or is he still inside the restaurant?) the restaurant spots me and begins to reach into his coat. Out comes the gun that just got tucked away and I let off two shots without even looking where I was aiming. I was shooting over the restaurant and not at it. I was hoping that they would not be able to discern the difference,
I watch as the tails duck behind the short wall surrounding the patio. I enter the driver’s side door, keeping the weapon pointed in their direction. The ignition engages as soon as my weight is distributed on the seat and the doors to their YARUS all-terrain begin to come down and seal us in silence.
On the touch screen on the dashboard is a flashing icon screaming “Evade” and when my fingers make contact with the screen, the front and side windows begin to come to life. Everything was labeled from the vehicles, to the people, to the building. I think that even the litter was somehow marked.
At the driver’s side window, as I looked out, I spotted the tails with green icons above them labeling them as “AGENT” and I mark them by touching their images on the driver side window. I whisper “Engage” and watch as crosshairs center on their images in the window. I hear two clicking sounds and feel the vehicle rock slightly, as though someone were pushing on the YARUS. I watch as their labels disappear and their image is nowhere to be found.
“Reberse – Ebade – Escape!” I say, much louder than the whisper of my original command. “Escape – Elude – Red Streets – Nort / Nort-Eest” I say to the dash as I begin to maneuver icons around, double checking the rearview icons at the top – left of the front windshield to make sure that there were no more “AGENT” or whatever following us.
When I was sure that there was no pursuit chasing us, I placed the vehicle on manual and took over control. This was a good vehicle. The YARUS AL or all terrain was a favorite of government agents and their proxies. They’re the top of the line as far as Urban Assault Vehicles are concerned. And they’re their on board computers carry some of the most versatile interactive motherboards by DELL Securities. I was wondering where I learned to handle the vehicle, let alone where I learned to handle the touch screens program.
Prudence touches my arm soliciting attention. “What just happened?” she asks’.
“I tink dat dey were goberment agents, but I’m not sure. I believe dat dis is a goberment behicel.” I tell her. I continue to keep on the red streets as guidance probes the skies for some kind of signal which would inform the vehicle of which direction to go. No such luck.

RIGHT

I wake Prudence and point her attention out her window. I had pulled over when the scene had first revealed itself. I remember reading stories from books and hearing descriptions from my father. I think this cemetery had to have been over 100 years old.
I open the door and as the seat rotates toward the door, the ignition turns off as soon as my rear (body) loses contact with the seat. “I’ll be right back,” I say as I make my way toward a towering gate that was tilted in and partially open. I hear the passenger door disengaging and swinging up so I waited for her.
“Where are we going theo?”
I stop and look at her. I make tThat is my only response because I didn’t have an answer. I did not know where we were going. I should be driving. If those guys were agents, then they were probably not far behind us; but somewhere in front of us, through that gate, like static electricity charging itself, was the silence calling to me.
Just as I enter the gate, because of the quiet of the night, I’m able hear a door shutting and it seems to originate from a tiny structure at the center of the cemetery. I begin making my way toward the building, slowing my pace slightly to allow Prudence time to catch up. I look at some of the headstones as we pass and notice that every third or fourth one would have some kind of six-spoked wheel and this, for some reason, began to jar a memory I never had of being underground with ancient bodies laying in the dark beyond rotting.
The memory of dust in every breath fades and I am twenty yards from the building when I become aware of a man sitting on the steps of the small porch. The man looks very old and very clean and he was glaring; looking me right in the eyes. “Kilala ba kita?” I ask, “Do I know you?”
“I know you BELOVED and from here you will be directed by others where to go to find HIM.” He says as he walks toward me. He reaches behind him on the little patio which connected the structure to the walkway, (what patio? Or is it a porch connected to the little house?) and picks up a real leather back pack, a three gallon jug of water, and a rolled piece of paper that looked slightly discolored.
“Pind who,” I inquire gently. “Who is it dat we are supposed to pind?”
He reaches his full arms to me and directs his gaze on Prudence. As I step forward protectively, he somehow transfers the items into my arms and says, “Just follow the map and trust the FINDER little girl. And if you get lost, HE will find you.”
I take a step sideways and place myself in front of him again. “Who is him dat we are supposed to be pinding, old man?” He stops and looks me in the eyes and it is no longer a glare. I know him from somewhere, yet I don’t know anybody over 25. He turns and begins to walk back up towards the building.
“What just happened?” Prudence asks, and when I’m done looking at her blankly and turn back to the old man, he’s already entering the structure and so I follow him hurriedly. The lights in the window seem to give the place a warmth that the old man’s glare checked. It cast a convivial glow as we approached and Prudence opened the door and I entered into darkness and dust and a sparseness that indicated a long vacancy.
I step back outside into darkness and look at her questioningly. “What just happened?” she asks again and I shrug. My arms still full of stuff from an old man who we(whom we had) just imagined. I dropped everything and pulled out the pistol I’d taken from the agent and began clearing the building. It took 38 seconds as there was nowhere for anyone to hide. The footprints left on the dusty floor were mine and mine alone. There was no one else here.
I step outside and when I look at Prudence, her mouth opening for a question and I say, “don’t ask it again, ya?! I don’t know what happened here and I didn’t pind da old man. I tink we should leeb now bepore more weird tings happen again, ya.
I grab the backpack from the ground and she picks up the rolled up piece of paper and we head for the vehicle. “I should neber heb stopped. We need to get going right away.”
“No. I think that this was significant theophilos.” She says, casting weary glances behind headstones and up into trees as we make our way back to the YARUS.
I pull the vehicle out manually and after double checking the rearview icons to make sure that we were still safe, we drive down red pegged streets until the moon had established itself above us. We needed to find a safe place to rest and go over events. I felt the silence calling from just over the horizon and I needed a safe place to be quiet and to spend time with my soul. This is something that I’ve never done in any ones else’s presence.
I needed to figure out who these agents were and how do I, or Prudence fit in. I needed to go over events in the silence. I needed to turn to the silence and reconcile the death of a living soul. A soul I sent home today without knowing why. I hated killing.
I needed to go through the backpack and see what the old man had left me and I needed to see what the roll ed up piece of paper was. And I needed to plan my next move. I can’t get any of these things done unless I FIND a safe place; that’s what I needed most right now, a safe place to retreat into and come up with some kind of strategy.
I was absolutely in the dark; but I’m comfortable there. That’s when FINDing works the best, when I don’t know what I need. Like the wind, I follow a path I do not see and am moved by hands that are invisible. I do not know what we are looking for, but I will recognize it when I see it. That’s how it’s always worked, as I feel the wind in me working now.
A slight smile creases my face as I feel the familiar excitement of the FINDing. The comforting pull of the unknown on my soul, directing me, guiding and whispering words to my soul that my mind does not understand, but which my soul translates easily and clearly. I allow my hands to drive, relaxing my shoulders and loosening my wrists, trying to relax my grip on the steering mechanism, a vertical bar with horizontal grips on each end.
I command the windows down and feel the evening air blowing into the car as we slowly cruise down unused streets. The smell coming into the vehicle from the outside smelled different than the air I was used to in The City. Where City air always carried with it the wasted breath and smells of a population, the air coming in from the outside smelled fresh and unused, as though I were the first person to have ever breathed in this air. And for all I know, this could be the truth.
I begin to try and Google what was ahead of us, moving icons on the screen this way and that, trying to make sense of the desolation that’s was being painted on the windshields and windows as we pass by the barrenness in front of us, beneath us, around us. But no matter what I do, or how I work the dash, there’s no getting around it. Out here, there is no guidance, or Facebook or any connections to the Ethernet. It’s just the car, a road and me. I know how the seedees and videos portray it but right now, right here it feels scary to me. Scary and right.

TOWER

As the night quietly surrenders to Sol, the desolation of ruined buildings and crumbling streets gradually gives way to beauty. After some fidgeting around with the touch screen, I was able to reprogram the YARUS for automatic steering. Despite the lack of Guidance – control, all these vehicles carry the original programming from YAHOO auto pilot. As they were the pioneers of self-guiding programs for all vehicles, the original kernel still exists and somehow I was able to give control over to the vehicle and catch up on some needed sleep. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t know where to begin and I chalked this up to exhaustion.
The panorama that greeted me when I woke was amazing. The sky was bluer than I’ve ever remembered and the clouds were so white and thick. We seemed to be on a dirt road but I could see old asphalt peeking through the dirt. The windshield and windows were displaying nothing. The road that we were currently on was labeled “HWY 101 N” and I did not know what that meant (or: I had no idea what that meant). At present the windshield pegs for the road we’re were on were all a diffused orange. I did not know what that color signified. (or: I’d never seen that before)
The landscape was immense and overpowering. Outside the passenger window was a countryside rising up to quiet hills punctuated by steep cliffs lined with boulders. There were also boulders strewn along on the roadway. I thought about taking back control of the YARUS but the vehicles seemed to be piloting the obstacles competently and I wanted to be able to take in the panorama without interruption.
Distributed on the hillside were amazingly tall trees so tall, and as well as short bushy little trees whose bark was a gnarled, dark brown, leathery looking thing. I’ve been living in The City too long and the names of these trees escape me. (or: I no longer remember the names of these trees.)
On the driver’s side of the vehicle was the ocean; water almost as blue as the sky, white capped waves attacking the beaches with a ferocity that I found comforting. It looked nothing like the oceans in Santa Cruz. As compared with the coastline of The City, this beach seemed immense. It seemed more alive and vibrant then the beaches and boardwalks and wharfs of The City. Even San Francisco’s bay seemed dull and polluted as compared to this body of water I was visiting (or: seeing) for the first time. tense tense
I was overwhelmed and astounded, overcome with the certainty that over the next horizon will would be the thing that needs ed to be found. Confident that over the next vista will be the thing I came to FIND. I felt a comfort and reassurance that I had never experience before. I felt The silent wind was pulling, calling, whispering to me; drawing deep unto deep.
My attention was diverted from the view as Prudence stirs and her seat self-adjusts as her shoulders begin to rise and loose contact with the seat back. It begins to rise and reform itself into a safety seat. She takes note of her surroundings and just stares out her window without saying anything. After about ten or fifteen minutes she whispers to herself, “We’re going the right way . . .”
I look squarely at her and ask, “What?!”
She looks at me and replies while pointing at the screen, “What does that red blinking light mean?”
I look. “I don’t know”, I say and begin moving icons around until the touch screen finally responds and 7889 (what is this?)tells me that the battery was almost depleted. Most of its power was had been used searching for a connection with Guidance, or from when I had been piloting the vehicle manually through different obstacles and impediments that were scattered on the road we were currently driving on. Again I move icons around until I realize that there is no Guidance, which means that there are no directional layouts on the touch screen. We were literally cut off from civilization. I look up and spot a small structure by the edge of a low hanging cliff on the ocean’s edge. It was a low one story building with what looked like a tall minaret or tower on the side of the house closest to the ocean’s boundary.
“Do you see dat building?” I ask and point toward the structure until Prudence sees it. She nods and I point down the road in front of us. “We’ll hide da car by da bushes and make our way to dat building ober der. I need to wash up and pee, and I need to stretch my legs. We’ll stay here por a couple op hours and head out later on dis apternoon, ya?” She nods and I slowly direct the YARUS toward the stand of short looking trees on the edge of the road that was bordering the beach, parked the car and exposed the solar panels as I set it to recharge. Then we covered the vehicle with whatever debris we could find and threw some dirt over it for good measure.
Not the best (greatest or most effective) camouflage job but it’s the best we could do considering our circumstances. Then off we went toward the antiquated structure with its tall tower.

Don’t use the same word twice in one sentence.
Don’t use the same word twice in one sentence.

BREATHING

“entered”
“entered”
We head out on foot toward the tall (redundant) tower and its adjoining building with the backpack, the water jug and the rolled up of paper that I thought resembled a map, but a kind that I’d never seen before. Our progress was unhindered and we came upon the one-story up to the building and entered the unlocked door that the gravel path led us to. (or: . Our progress was unhindered as we walked up the gravel path to the unlocked door.) We found It was deserted and dusty. It was definitely appeared to have been abandoned long ago.
We entered into what looked like a kitchen with a timeworn table. It was circular and had one chair by it and two more lying on the floor. One chair was by the window, and the other lay next to a counter, also obscured by dust; years of it. I made my way to the table as Prudence picks up the chair by the counter and sets it by the table as I place the backpack on it, raising dust as I do so.
Great room ?
Great room ?
“Now what,?” she asks as I pull out the confiscated pistol and begin walking down the hallway. “Perst I check to make sure dat we’re da only ones here. Stay put and I will be right back. Keep checking da rode until I come back here.” She disappears as I enter into the dim hallway and come to the first room on the right. I stop to listen, then enter the room quickly. It was unoccupied and dust was everywhere. I retreated and approached the next room, also on the right side. I repeated this process through two more bedrooms, a large bathroom and a smaller lavatory (or: ½ bath), next to what looked like an office with an antiquated rollup desk, kicking up dust the whole time. (or: kicking up dust as I walked)
As I come back out to what we decided was the kitchen and dining room and living room put together, I see Prudence pulling things out of the backpack next to what I thought was a the map, which she’d spread out on the table. Other items were distributed around the map.
I brush off the chair and sit down, coughing on from the dust as I do. “So, what did you pind in da bakpak, is der anyting op use?” She sets a 13” hunting knife next to what I labeled as the map and began to rummage through the bag and pulled out an old leather bound book with the owner’s name in the front; James it was, and he must have been some kind of king.
Confusing sentence, you’re restating the same point… so it feels redundant.
Confusing sentence, you’re restating the same point… so it feels redundant.
You know, I really think it’ll read a lot smoother if you just stay in the past tense. Speaking in present tense always feels a little awkward. Past tense feels like your “natural voice.”
You know, I really think it’ll read a lot smoother if you just stay in the past tense. Speaking in present tense always feels a little awkward. Past tense feels like your “natural voice.”
The big hunting knife was made from metal instead of the usual ceramics that I was used to seeing. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the sheath itself was made from animal skin. I picked it up and handed it to Prudence. “What am I supposed to do with that?” she says, stepping back slightly as if to avoid the touch of the hard leather. “I need you to clip it on your belt. I need to know dat you heb some kind op weapon on you. You won’t heb to use it. It’s jest in case U need help and I’m not der to help.” She takes the sheathed knife reluctantly and begins looking for a comfortable place to clip it when I notice flashes of light coming from the direction of the ocean.
I gather everything together again as I get up and make my way to the window with the view of that looked out towards the ocean. And now I feel the silence that comes before the FINDING, which precedes it the FINDING. It’s in this silence that I FIND the thing that is needed most. It’s in the silence inside me that I receive direction and as I bolt for the door, I grab everything and stick it into the backpack as I grab it up. “We heb to leeb now Prudence. Pallow me and don’t make any noise. I’b a peeling dat dey don’t know dat we’re here. Come on!”
We quietly make our way through the house toward the back where one of the windows reached all the way to the floor and formed a kind of door. I cut through the screen that seemed to be blocking our escape when I notice that this too rolled back like the big window, which rolled quietly open. We quickly duck outside and again I look toward the ocean. I wanted to make our way back to the YARUS but the silence was stopping me. So for the moment I was at a loss of what to do next.
Getting messy… try something like this: Lights reflected off the clouds of dust being stirred up by the hover craft’s airfoils. Through the dust cloud we could barely make out the shadows of people leaving the vehicle.

Getting messy… try something like this: Lights reflected off the clouds of dust being stirred up by the hover craft’s airfoils. Through the dust cloud we could barely make out the shadows of people leaving the vehicle.

I head inland, across the road and up the hill into the stunted trees and hit the ground. I hear Prudence hit the ground with a grunt and follow me as a begin crawling forward quickly and quietly. The darkness embraced us and we crawled quietly up the slope. Trying to crawl soundlessly, to breathe soundlessly, to look softly; to quiet the heart, the and breath. I tried to look around and I felt the adrenalin coursing through me. Trying to stand me up and get me running & it took almost all my willpower to stay down. To keep still and quiet.
I felt Prudence crawl up beside me and nudge me with her shoulder. Looking through the bushes on the exposed hill, I watched as saw that they (what did, the bushes?) formed an “LZ” or landing zone. The lights revealed of the a hover craft began that was creating clouds from the of dust of from the airfoils; obscuring the occupants who were disembarking. Across the road, in the direction that we were originally headed toward, a flash of light blazed where our YARUS was hidden. Milliseconds later, the concussion which flattened us on the ground was followed by the sound of the vehicle’s detonation.
We stayed put, unmoving. It was all I could think of doing. We haven’t hadn’t been spotted, but I could think of no other way to escape. As we lay there, I watched as they began to assemble and erect one of those SONIC® fences they invented during the occupation at the Vatican. An oldie but a goodie.
There was nothing to do but to be still and stay put. And to hope against hope that the bushes and tall grass would be enough to keep us hidden until an opportunity arose for an escape. There was nothing to do but relax and slow the breathing . . . slow the breathing . . . slow the breathing . . .

HILL

The forests was silent and as we paused on the well-worn trail, listening and smelling and feeling the air and the currents flowing through the forests. I adjusted my arrows and short bow that were slung over my shoulder. I adjusted the nitevision® goggles on my head and watched the sun rise above the redwoods that surrounded the valley that we’d all grown up in.
This is our valley, and of those before us. It waits to be seen whether ADONAI will allow this valley to transfer to the hands of those who come after us. ADONAI alone knows what the future has in store for us; Salvation and persecution were the things that we were promised. Boldness and courage will be our sustenance and THE SPIRIT of ADONAI will work in and through us to fulfill his literal WORD. These were some of our beliefs. The conversations which knit the community together always came back to the will of ADONAI. Which was permissive, and which were essential? Always we were trying to understand; to interpret correctly; to understand rightly; to live well. Sometimes I wondered into what sickness was I born into. Because I loved ADONAI and I worshiped HIS spoken and written word. I believed in HIS will for me and myrelations. Yet disobedience called to me; to leave the body; to be alone and cleave to those of this earth, to Gaia.
The BODY, Pilgrims, FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY; man, that last was old. Or is it more derogatory? Do City Folk still call us that? It’s been four years since the last time that I was in The City. Graduation. Even growing up, we all knew that we were to be taken away for discipleship, but when it came I wasn’t ready. Now four years with the BODY and I find myself questioning my convictions. Not the existence of ADONAI, but of the convictions from my religious training which I’ve lived my whole life by.
The BODY knew of my doubts and accepted it them. Even from in the best ones that they’ve raised up will doubt be found. The SIN is not in the doubting, but in the actions which is harvested when doubt is nourished with ignorance and self-will. Doubt is not sin. Disbelief is where we find sin cradled. We believe ADONAI; help our unbelief.
Seventeen seasons I’ve walked ADONAI’s creation. Not yet old enough to be raised up or Turned, but in those seventeen years, despite what we’ve done, or how we do it, humanity has been unable to destroy the handiwork of my beloved ADONAI. Our primary mission; our original mandate to take care of His Creation and everything in it continues, and all of us who serve must serve of our own free will. We all accept our doubts. We all accept the doubts of those who serve beside us. But we also accept what is His Word and those things He’s covenanted with us/with man.
Those parts which are in the realm of ADONAI is are for Him to dispense, they are His Will. Those in the realm of US will be for us our responsibility to interpret, we must determine what is the Will of ADONAI is, and how to go about implementing His Will. it.
? Satellites picking up equipment? Satellites, by definition, are orbiting senders and receivers of signals only
You’re talking about some sort of hover crane, correct?
? Satellites picking up equipment? Satellites, by definition, are orbiting senders and receivers of signals only
You’re talking about some sort of hover crane, correct?
“Itz too quiet . . .” Lynn whisper’s in my ear. Like the buzzing of moth wings, almost missed. I turn to her and nod. We both wait for ADONAI’s hand to quietly move us. I quickly peer through the trees, looking for silent aircrafts hovering, or chopping through the air silently with invisible blades. All I see are the small satellites which pick up incoming shipments of ore and gold and precious metals the fallen find necessary to live, coming in from the inner belt. The biggest curse ever alleviated from Gaia’s back was the shifting of mining her surfaces to mining asteroids. When the idea was first proposed the governments laughed, and now those governments are employed by those they mocked. A beautiful living proverb. The same hand that devised that proverb was the same hand we waited patiently on.
There was no way to rush ADONAI into revealing His Will. We long ago learned how to shape our lives and live according to the terms set by ADONAI. Our circumstance does nothing for the terms of our contract with ADONAI. It neither takes away from, nor adds to the terms and conditions of the contract. It is circumstance ADONAI uses as a chisel to shape us into a more perfect created immortal.
“You think too much. Stop thinking and start listening… with your heart.” I turn to her and nod as she gently cups my hand in hers and bows her head for ADONAI. I quietly turn my eyes to the sky and listen. And for a while that’s what we did. We listened.
When Adonai began speaking we were ready. We were led to stand up and together we moved quietly through the forest in a slight crouch. Turning as Adonai moved us. And we followed obediently as he directed; as we always have and always will.
When Adonai speaks, there is no voice; no nudging’s or urgings. There is no murmuring or pictures in my head or any of those superstitious monkeyshines. The reality of Adonai is in us. Tattooed on our hearts in the same way HIS words are tattooed on our skin. When HE speaks to us, there is a knowing; a clarity of what is, of what to do, of what to say. When Adonai speaks, HE speaks to HIS own nature inside us and our obedience comes from deep calling unto deep. There are no words. There is just the knowing of what to do, or where to go, or what to say. And so we followed.
I have appealed silently to Adonai to hold back the chisel, but there are no guarantees; live on life’s terms. But we both felt it. As I watched Lynn at point, moving silently through the forest, turning to see where I was, I knew that I reflected the same uneasiness and tension that was on her face. We both felt in our inner selves; in our chi or spirit. There was no fear or tension. There was just the knowing that we were being led to war and we obeyed.
It was clear that we were no longer hunting for food but for something else. We are not helpless in our obedience. Adonai reveals His will only after we obey, and so despite the fact that our adrenalin was beginning to spike and the sounds of the forest beginning to separate into individual sounds that we’d long ago learned to interpret and act on. And act we did. I slowly drew an arrow and set it close to my short bow, ready to shoot. I watched as Lynn loaded her own cross bow with one of her short weighted arrows. Incomplete thought… what about it?
We followed as Adonai led, and inside our chest we could feel a thrumming sound that was not a sound. A deep bass barely perceptible. We continued ascending up a slight hill covered in thick brush with the trees close together.
Now we could hear it; a low deep drone, a sound that did not belong in the forest. A vibration that was barely perceptible, but with the adrenal spike we were able to divorce it from the sounds of the woodlands. As we got closer to where we were being led I began to recognize the sound of machinery. Not the kind we use at camp; these this sound was the sound of The City. And this sound did not belong here.
Slinking through the low bushes lining the crest of a hill we slowly made our way. I watched as Lynn moved from a hunting crouch to all fours, hugging the ground with her body and becoming one with the foliage. She seemed to disappear into the ground with only her head barely evident to anyone looking. Still in a hunting crouch; still hidden behind the apex of the hill, I began to examine the sky and noticed a government drone circling a figure eight in the sky, which probably covered several miles of reconnaissance.
Dropping to the ground, I emulated Lynn and crawled toward the summit of the hill and peered over. There seemed to be an encampment with what looked to be trained soldiers working inside and around a perimeter that was enclosed by a SONIC®fence. I turned to Lynn and instead of seeing the same confusion mirrored on her face she seemed to be smiling.
With HandTalk, she pointed out other groups spread out in the surrounding forests. About sixty yards below and to the left were a crew of four from the Hagana. These guys were trained guerrillas and very deadly in hand to hand. But out here in the forests, we were the real killers. This forest belongs to the people of Adonai and these soldiers were not welcome. I began wondering if the Hagana were the reason for these soldiers being here. Lynn signals “calm” with her hands as if she could read my mind. I signed back an affirmative and began breathing slowly.
I turned my attention to the encampment, watching and filing away what I was seeing. I watched as what I assumed was a patrol vehicle exited the fenced area. Every one of those soldiers were armed and the vehicle itself was equipped with what looked like those small rocket propelled missiles that Homeland Security uses to subdue rebellions throughout United Socialist’ of the Americas.
Movement to my right caught my attention and as I began to turn, Lynn nudges my shoulder and pointing, spots two people hiding in the tree line about a hundred yards from the fencing which bordered the campsite. These two were definitely out of place. They were both wearing City clothes, and the girl had on leather shoes, something rarely seen among City folk. The man with her had long hair which was not a fashion that men in The City exhibited. That was a fashion reserved for the ‘Nameless.’
Turning my attention back to my right, I notice another pair of hunters dressed similarly to us. They both had arrows slung over their shoulders. Once my attention was back on the two of them I receive a nod at my direction. I turn back to Lynn as she signs for me to make my way to the Hagana crew while she makes her way to our Sisters crouched away from us. It seems that she’d seen the pair of Sisters before I did. I nod and watch her disappear into the brush and make my way silently down the hill.

LEADING

I lost sight of Lynn as soon as she went into the brush. Trusting in her abilities, I quickly and quietly edge my way toward the Hagana crew. Crawling silently through the underbrush, trusting Adonai to lead me to them unseen.
I came silently upon them and listened to their whispered conversation. The people of the Diaspora where tough. Like the FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY, they were considered terrorists’ and enemies of the US of the A. They were the first to feel the “Big Change” when it came. From childhood we were taught and after we were raised up we understood that it started with those from the diaspora, when the Servants of ALLAH chased them from their lands and into the sea. As minorities immigrating from country to country, slowly being slaughtered, they were turned away until there were almost none left.
The world watched quietly as world governments turned their backs on the Diaspora while the Servants slowly exterminated them. The world ignored them until those same people came after their religions and their children and their women. By then it was too late to do anything. No more Catholics except for those who live underground. No more Diaspora or FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY except for those who live in silent exile, outside of the communities and cities where the Servants exist. In the US of the A, that means we live in hidden communities where the government and their agents can’t find us. But now here we hide in the bushes while the government was establishing a staging point in our forests’.
“How much longer do we stay here Yosef? What else do we need to see? If we move back about a mile and a half we could take them out with one low yield strike and they would never see it coming.” They all had their backs toward me so I was unable to make out their faces. I made out the person who was speaking, but was unable to work out whom he was speaking to. His remark was met by silence. I waited several more minutes, pausing to see if more intelligence was forthcoming but the silence continued.
“Did they follow your team into our forests?” I ask as I come into their little group. All but one of the men was startled by my sudden appearance, but they remained silent and unseen. “No. We followed them here. We believe that they are pursuing those two hiding in the bushes.” The person speaking was the one person who was unsurprised by my entrance. His head was covered and he had long sideburns hanging almost to his chin. He seemed to be suppressing a hidden mirth. “We’ve been watching, wondering why they don’t move. We don’t think those soldiers even know that they’re there.” The other men continued to watch the campsite nodding.

“We saw a government vehicle park about a quarter mile from one of our safe houses and those two walk right into it like they belonged there. We thought this required some observation. In less than an hour, a Homeland Security manned assault hover craft appears out of nowhere and blows up the car. We followed them as they ran up this hill right into their LZ. Now the sky is full of drones and those two are trying to get a tan in your forest. What will your people do?”
“You’re talking about that light house by the highway? How’d they get this far?” I ask looking again at the two people hiding below us, as if seeing them for the first time. They traveled over five miles without getting caught. With all the technology that Homeland Security possessed, it’s a miracle that they still remained undetected.
“Mostly, they crawled.” The man speaking was the same man who suggested a tactical strike. He was much younger though they were dressed almost the same, except he had no sideburns and his hair was very short, the way they wore it in The City.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask them.
“We plan to stay and observe. I would like to understand what is going on here. There are no coincidences with JEHOVAH.”
“That might not be a smart idea Yosef . . .” I say and he looks at me. The hidden mirth was gone from him. He gives me a nod and a smile which never touches his eyes. “I saw one low flying drone, which means that there are probably two cruising much higher than the one I saw, which means that there’s a chance that they saw you.”
“No. No chance of that. The necklace we wear takes light and bends it around us so that if any surveillance equipment is being used on us, we appear invisible. Even FLIR. It bends the light so that even our body heat is dispersed. So no chance of that young man.” I look up to the sky nervously and when I turn my thoughts back to him, I noticed the mirth had returned. I transfer my attention back to the two rabbits below us when I hear slight movement behind us. I begin to turn, pulling out my long knife when Lynn & our two Sisters crawl into view. We all three nod at each other.
“Yosef.” I say nodding at the older gentleman. To him I say, “These are my Sisters. Treat them with care.” We exchange glances before focusing back on the camp, the soldiers and the two hidden rabbits.
“They spotted two drones and eventually followed it here.” Lynn says gesturing to the two women with her. Well, a woman and a young girl. “They recognized it as government owned and decided to see where they came from.” The younger of the two continued to scrutinize the skies while the older one examined the crew of four.
“We have three other teams scouting out here Lynn. If I spotted the drones, you know they saw it too.” Lynn nods to the older woman and points with her chin toward the encampment. “We need to rescue those two.”
“That would be foolish.” Yosef whispered quietly. “We would be spotted immediately.”
“No Yosef, you would be spotted.” Lynn whispers , “Can you and Fiducia get those two without being seen Jude? If the government wants them, than we don’t want them to get those two. If we can’t leave with them, we kill them.”
“We’ll get them Lynn. They’re not the enemy. We only kill the enemy . . . no innocents die today if we can help it.” I look to Fiducia and at her nod we begin making our way towards my two little rabbits.
The descent was slow, but uneventful. Our Adonai would move us where He wanted. We ducked when He said duck, and we’d crawl when moved to. It was slow going and every move measured. I was moved to look up “NOW!” and so I did. Forming tight circles several hundred feet above us were two drones. Hissing to Fiducia, I flatten myself onto the ground and beginning to disappear. I watch Fiducia slowly conceal herself against the tree she was standing by. Just two feet away from each other and I could barely make her out.
“Who are they, Jude?” I hear her whisper to me. Unmoving and keeping one eye on the drones, I consider her question.
“The soldiers or those little rabbits hiding in those bushes?” I ask, knowing what her answer would be. I did not know how to explain to someone who has never been to The City or any of the other conurbations established by the Servants of ALLAH. Someone raised in the peacefulness of the forest and the safety of the BODY. Where the only deaths come from accidents, or old age; or the deaths of animals on the hunt.
“Those strange looking people you were talking to up the slope. They looked like serious trouble Jude. So who were they?”
The youngest of these three Sisters, Fiducia was considered to have the Gift of Wisdom and so she was kept in the safety of the BODY. Veiling the truth in any way would be wrong and to veil the truth to her would be considered the same as hiding the truth from THIRDSPIRIT. I did not know how to speak to her.
“The truth please, Jude.”
“They are Hagana, Fiducia. Zealots from the People of the Book. The fact that they’re in our forest is not good news. Now those four we may have to send home.” I was still working on how to tell her of the beginning when Adonai moved me to speak as the Teacher, which is the gift Adonai has lent to me.
“It all started with the People of the Book. When it seemed as though all the nations had turned against them, spurred on by the Servants of ALLAH they were almost over run. Their nation vanished almost overnight. Their sacred places were razed to the ground and their farms and properties were confiscated. Those that were left; those who survived were allowed to leave with what they had on.”
“What does this have to do with my question Jude?” she asks, revealing herself somewhat in her agitation.
“The Hagana are real terrorists Fiducia. If they are here, than they brought the soldiers with them.” The drones were lifting slowly; their spiral’s taking them higher. “Listen Fiducia, you were never educated outside of the forest. You’ve never been away from the Body and there are certain things you need to learn.” I slowly begin turning over onto my back. A feat that would take about six minutes to complete if I wanted to remain unseen. I wanted to keep my eyes on the drones and trusting her to keep her eyes on our surroundings, I continued my story.
“During the original Diaspora; that’s where it all began, Fiducia. They lost their land and were forced to flee to any country that would take them. Many countries took them in only to turn them back to the Servants. Once the Diaspora learned this, they would come into a country and disappear. Taking the false identities of those sent home before them. Slowly they gave birth to another generation and another. Always in hiding. Always underground. They split into three ideologies’ and Hagana is the militant part of the Diaspora. Terrorist who kill innocents and hide among innocents.” Laying on my back, I could feel the hum of the Sonic®fence intensely. The drones where widening their search and lifting slowly higher.
“Must we send them home early, Jude?” She whispers quietly, her youth apparent in her trembling voice.
“You hold Wisdom, Sister. I simply remember the past.”
“Please, continue Jude.”
I watch the drones lift higher and silently listen for Adonai. “Our discipline. . . the discipline that the Body is under stems from our desertion of the people of the Diaspora. Our forefathers believed that if they kept quiet it would pass. And since we remained free from persecution, what business was it of ours?”
One of the drones flew south and the other continued to circle. Slowly lifting higher. There was still time. “They came for us later on. Through legislation of Sharia Law we were slowly marginalized. By the time my great grandfather was killed, they had already begun sending some of us home early, but they could not exterminate us fast enough. That’s what they called it Fiducia, extermination, as though we were vermin. Those who were considered the most tolerant of everyone were unable to tolerate those who were worshippers of the True God.”
“I guess extermination is as good a word as any. We were hunted down like rats. Wherever there were Servants, there was intolerance and death. Any Servant who was tolerant of Catholics, FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY or those of the Diaspora, they were considered one of us; they were treated as one of us. And so the fate we tried to avoid had now come upon us. We thought that by our silence and compliance we might avoid the persecution. Instead we find that we had expedited it by our amenability. By our own reticence we had convicted ourselves to share the same fate with The People of the Book, or the Diaspora as they call themselves. It was them who first called us the ‘invisible ones’ because when we came upon one of them being persecuted we pretended to disappear.”
“And now it’s one of our talents. It’s not a gift from Adonai . . . ?”
“It is Fiducia, a gift and a chisel; a reminder of the burden we bear. It was the People of the Book who taught us how to hide among them, and we did for a while. But there were others among us who obeyed Adonai and came out here, to the wilderness. We live inside the mountains and underground and above the ground now, but it wasn’t always like this. But when the silent exodus came we were ready. We stole away in the night until every follower had migrated silently to the wilderness communities.”
“The Hegiras . . .”
“Yes, the ‘hegiras.’ That’s the word the Servants used. It means to run from danger; also a flight to somewhere more desirable. I think the word fits, don’t you, Fiducia? The drones are gone, we should get moving.” I tell her as I get back up to my knees. “Our little rabbits can’t possibly stay hidden much longer.”
I watch as she separates herself from the tree and gets down on one knee to peer down the slope at our targets. They were barely discernible from our vantage point, but the camp was still clearly visible. With the all-clear, we began making our way to them, listening for Adonai’s leading.

WORDS

As we descended slowly down the incline; making use of every boulder, tree or brush, we crept deliberately towards our objective. They were looking well-worn and a little threadbare. They were covered in dust and dirt. Noticeable from this distance were the cuts and scrapes sustained, I assumed, from their flight into the forest. With Adonai calming my doubts I resumed my progress toward them.
The feel of the enclosure was getting stronger, the sonic effect of the fence beginning to affect my senses, causing pain in my sinus. I could feel a headache forming at the base of my skull and moving up the back of my head. How they endured the barrier is beyond me. They were so much closer to the enclosure’s perimeter than we were, yet they continued to advance up the hill, unnoticed by the soldiers in the camp.
We progressed slowly in the same direction and waited in a small cavity created by the trees and bushes. The grass made a cool carpet that we rested on. A pleasant change from the rocks and dirt we’d been scrambling over. The affects of the fence seemed to be reduced here and so we waited, tracking their progress unseen. Adonai whispered what to my spirit was translating “beneficial.”
Fiducia and I sat on our haunches, buttock resting on our heels, arms resting on our knees, crossbow in her hand and the long knife in mine. The rustling of the bushes was getting louder and it was followed by the sound of scrabbling.
When they broke through into our little hollow, the petite girl began to scream but was restrained by the long haired . . . “hunter” . . . this was the translation of the description that Adonai sent me. I make a note of this word when I notice Fiducia mouthing the same word in silence.
I tell myself to breath - “breathe . . .
I signal for silence to the ‘hunter’ as Fiducia gently takes hold of the girls hand and putting finger to lips signals the same. The long haired man looked death at us but made no sound. I signal for both of them to follow and the ‘hunter’ nods, nudging his companion to follow.
Back up the hill we went. Progress was slow and arduous but the two kept up easily enough. As we traveled farther from the fence, its influence was weakened and my thoughts came much easier to me. Looking back, I see the tension departing like a ghost off the companies’ shoulders. I notice Fiducia’s eyes and know that she was petitioning Adonai as they followed me. She looks at me and with her eyes inquires my agreement. I signal an ‘amen.’
As we approached the rise where Lynn and the others were hiding, I spot movement above and to the right of our location in the tree line above us. Before I could signal a stop, I notice the ‘hunter’ grab at the girls belt and pull her down to her knees. He points to the tree line and I slap his hand down. I shake my head in response to the look he gives me. I look to the point where I first saw movement and watch patiently. I breath and watch, breath and watch. I felt no impatience from our two little rabbits and I was beginning to think that “rabbit” was not the right description for them.
Patience pays off and I register movement in the tree. Continuing to watch, I recognize the forest attire with short arrows strapped to the thigh. She was barely discernible perched on a branch in the tree. Her partner was unseen. She nods in my direction then fades back into the foliage. “Sisters.” I whisper, looking at Fiducia. She nods calmly and signals me to continue as she gently takes hold of the girl’s hand.
I begin heading towards where we left our two other Sisters and the men from the Diaspora when I was redirected by Adonai. The change in direction was subtle and almost went unnoticed until the third ‘suggestion’ when I realized that we were being directed toward the area we’d first started out from before running into the Hagana.
With this realization I began jogging slowly while still in a crouch toward the line of trees where I last saw one of our Sisters. The others followed behind and I was surprised at how little noise the other two were making. But it was still noise. Fiducia, I felt more than saw. I could feel her right behind me and to the left. When I turned to look, I saw concentration and calm on her expression as she considered the almost invisible path that we were on.
Sprinkled throughout the forest were pathways that the animals and the Body used to move around this old forest. We never used a path to the point of widening. Once human presence started becoming obvious we would cease using it. We’d find different trails that the Body had stopped using for years and it would be a new adventure.
The footpath that we were currently on seemed to disappear around a tree and I slowed down. It was never wise to go rushing into a blind turn. I was on one knee, peering around the tree, when the others caught up to me. I look to Fiducia and point out the Hagana. She in turn signs toward a tree shaded boulder where four Sisters rested. Lynn was with the group who seemed to be relaxing in the shade after a hunt. I rise up and approach the Sisters and soon felt the tension leave me. Fiducia and I approach the tree and see the Sisters smile in greeting at us. I embraced a Sister I did not know and received the welcome with a brotherly kiss.
“Your little group is growing Lynn. Do we know what we must do?” The speaker, the older lady who came with Fiducia earlier, was named Grace. She was older than Lynn by at least a decade, yet beside her, Lynn’s beauty faded to handsomeness. True to her name, she was unaware of her beauty and considered it her personal chisel; her personal discipline from Adonai to keep her humble and open to His voice. We all had one.
She was looking directly at Lynn while at the same time holding Fiducia at arm’s length, inspecting her for injuries. Lynn’s Reply was as direct as the question.
“She holds Wisdom, Grace. I was simply called to lead. Events seem to be transpiring that may be beyond my abilities to lead. What would you suggest, Sister?”
With that question, we all seemed to turn as one toward my two rabbits whom I thought were still following us. As we watched, I saw Yosef walk up to the young girl and take her hand. We could not hear the words as they were spoken in a whisper, but the body language was evident. As she shakes her head and tries to pull away, the younger man with Yosef reaches around him for the girl. Then it happened quicker than we could react.
The younger man, Mattathias, I think, never laid hands on the young woman. The ‘hunter’, whose name I later found out was theophilos, grabbed the young man by his fingers and with a slight twist, snapped the forearm. Another twist and Mattathias was thrown into the air, and before he hit the ground, the ‘hunter’ had already turned and planted his knee in Yosef’s groin.
He sidestepped around Yosef’s buckling form and as one, the Body moved. “Those two come with us,” I heard Fiducia say. “We give those men a chance to choose.”
The ‘hunter’ was drawing a concealed weapon; the other two Hagana were drawing theirs and with time running out, the Body drew weapons and fired first. Three arrows were shot and guns dropped silently to the ground before anyone could fire a shot. For a split second, time stopped.
Then we were upon them. My lead arm shoots for theos’ throat knowing it would be blocked; I turn my hips bringing my rear legs around for a sweep as I bob under his block of my initial faint. As his legs are swept from under him and his head is swept back, I strike his exposed jugular and the neck muscles around it with the edge of my open hand. I watched his eyes as he goes out and his upper body collides with the ground. The Sisters have the others subdued. Of everyone we’d brought with us, only the girl from the City remained standing and conscious.
“We wait for your wisdom Fiducia. How should we proceed?” Lydia asks’ as she straightens up from inspecting the hands of one of the Hagana. Her expression said that the man would live. I’d just finished checking the ‘hunter’ for more concealed weapons and was just beginning to examine his hand for any breakages from the blunt arrow used for disarming weapons. Part of our creed is to cause no unnecessary harm. To never raise a hand to defend ourselves; to always turn the other cheek. But we never stand aside when others are in harm’s way.
“The two that you wished us to save are alive”, I say looking up at Fiducia. “We should leave before the others wake.” We may never kill to save ourselves. But when you see the weak threatened by the strong, it is incumbent on the Body to act. The burden of our ‘discipline’ stems from the inaction of those who walked before us. Now we who are left lay our lives in the hands of Adonai with the knowledge that one day we would all be called to lay down our lives. We swore never again to turn away the weak or the lost. And to defend the orphans and widows.
Fiducia looks first to Grace and with her nod, turns to Lynn and says, “We take them all. Go and signal the others. We must leave nothing for the soldiers to find. We must take them to the Body.”
This was followed by a short silence and when I spoke, I barely heard myself. “No one comes to the Body who is not from the Body.” I heard Lynn as she whispered the same thing. I turn to her. “What do we do Lynn, you lead here . . .?”
“She holds wisdom and yes, Jude, I lead. We all carry a body and their gear with us. Sisters will spot us as we get closer. I feel an urgency to move quickly. Administer an inhaler to your charge then we’ll load and go.” And so we moved.
I administered the inhaler to the ‘hunter’, which is a general sedative we use on ourselves or other wounded to rest them for transport. I watched the lighter than air vapors as he breathes it in. I watch as his breathings slows and steadies. Everyone loads their charges and stands up.
At Lynn’s nod I take point and begin the slow jog up the hidden trail, always up and deeper into the tree line. Knees bent and crouched slightly with the weight of our load distributed out from our shoulders and down our backs. We concentrate on where the next foot is laid, or how to move through the tree’s without leaving any signs.
Time flowed by and the shadows grew longer as we traversed the forest. As we came around one tight bend in the trail, we were met by six other Sisters and exchanged loads. They went ahead of us and took their charges as we rested and drank from canteens supplied by the others.
Two Sisters approached us from around the bend we just came from and both squated down in front of Lynn, “We see no one following Sister, and no drones are visible.”
Lynn, looking at the two Sisters signals me over with her hand. “And . . .what else do you and Apokata ‘Not See,’ Hope?”
Hope glances my way as I sit down on my haunches beside them. “We do not know how much was visible from the skies. This seems like a serendipitous occurrence where the Exilarch of the Diaspora and a FINDER from The City walk into our forests’ with a girl who has more currency and money than the Jobs family.”
“Have we acted wrongly . . . hastily? We followed the wisdom that was available to us.” I say loudly. Louder than was necessary. Was Lynn being blamed for all that’s ensued recently?
“No Jude. It is what it is. We live life on life’s terms and let the chisel fall where they may. We believe that the Body acted rightly. We need to make our way to the Body and seek the counsel of communion.” Apokata rarely spoke, but when she did I always listened. The musical sound of her voice always took away the sharpness of her word.

UP

I watched as the four men and theo were carried off into the forest. Their gear was carried off with them as well. The leather back pack and knife were still with me. I held the strap with one hand and rested my other hand on the hilt of my knife on my belted purse. I seem to have been forgotten for the time being. I noticed as two other women arrive. They seemed to materialize from the direction we’d just come, and I watched as the only man from this particular group comes up to listen to the conversation. I use this time to absorb what has just transpired in the past thirty-two hours. The FINDER accomplished more than I would ever have hoped, or dreamed. These people of the forest were more than likely FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY; and the thought that those four, dressed like People of the Book – terrorists’ whom no one ever saw. It was almost too much to believe.
I’ve read all the material on the FOLLOWERS and as much as has been written on the People. I’ve never seen or read anything like this. Most of the data on the FOLLOWERS were written about eighty or ninety years after the Big Change. The writings describe the followers as ignorant louts. Caricatures of them with their giant bibles chained to their ankles. Big ears and beady eyes, stooped over with the weight of their sins. Descriptions of their bloody sacraments and services where orgies and drunken revelry were the norm. If a person Google’s the word followers, you would see imageries of people with their hands raised, some with tears in their eyes; all had the drugged look of the addict as his high is achieved.
Much of history has been unable to trace the origins of this Son worship, but all scholars agree that their religion originated from the Father religion of the People of the book. All are in agreement that the People of the Book are the more dangerous and militant of the two. Is this proof of the origins of the Son worship of the FOLLOWERS? But purely from observation, I would consider these people from the forest – if they are followers – to be much more dangerous than those terrorist. And the ease with which they dispatched my FINDER was terrifying.
And if these people are FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY than they’re nothing like the notepads say they are. Most research would state that there’s less than 50,000 of them left worldwide. They’ve been marginalized to the point where the only place to buy food, or clothes or toiletries are from government subsidized service stores.
If these people where FOLLOWERS, then everything I’ve been taught needs to be revised. These people were remarkable in their appearance. They moved with an effortlessness that I’d only seen with wild creatures. Every step, every turn and look and shrug were done with more ease and assurance than on any other human I’d known. There was only certainty in every look given; in every word spoken or step taken.
These people, who reminded me of a holstered weapon, moved and talked around me and yet I barely heard them shift through shrub and trees. I was unable to point to a single person as ‘the leader’. Each time I thought I’d placed their leader; someone else would take the reins and give orders that were obeyed instantly.
I look up as I hear the man questioning one of the women who’d just arrived. He seemed distraught and no one noticed as I stopped pacing to listen. Did the woman just mention the Exilarch? Was she talking of the ‘Prince’ of the Diaspora? The authorities believed that the terrorists’ have had no one to lead them in the past thirteen years. Or if they did have anyone directing them, it would be someone hiding underground and very limited in the amount of communication they’d be able to receive and send out. If he truly is the Exilarch, than events might be unraveling faster than expected. I needed to contact Trump Industries and get a message to Intelligence. I began wondering where these people got their information, and considering our present location, whether I’d be able to plug into my mask and download all the video that my visor has been recording and send it home. I’d set it to document everything when I took it off at the restaurant. It seems like weeks since I and my FINDER left the City. As if the forest was all I’d known, when in reality we’d probably been running for the past thirty hours or so. I never imagined the Gov. Agents would be on us so fast. I thought I’d at least have a day or two.
As one, they seemed to rise; they gathered their equipment and Fiducia turns to me and smiles. She gently takes my hands in hers and tenderly escorts me along. I re-secure my pack and adjust the long knife hanging on my hip. My twelve thousand cred belted purse was fastened and the weight of the long knife seemed to fortify me.
I allowed Fiducia to lead me along. They were elegant and dexterous with all their movements. I watched and tried to emulate them as they passed through the forest almost unnoticed. Beside them, I felt like a clumsy, club-footed puppy.
They were beautiful. They seemed to communicate with each other without words. I’ve watched them use their sign language with each other . . . that’s not what I’m talking about. It was in the looks they exchanged, or a nod one to another. It seemed as if so much information was passed between these people. They exchanged leadership in the same, seamless way they moved. With a simple look or a nod.
It seemed to me as though one of the new arrivals had taken charge of the party of three women, a man and I. Fiducia smiles at Lynn who responds in kind. I look to Grace who was now pacing me gently on my right. She too was smiling. “We travel in pairs as recommended by Adonai. Our ‘Fearless Lynn’ here has a penchant of attracting the kind of news that makes her hunting parties tend to get . . . bigger.” Now it was Graces’ turn to hold my hand. She wedged her fingers between mine, with our palm pressed together. Her hands felt cool and strong. Her grip was firm, but it conveyed a protective friendliness – if that were possible. She pulled me down gently to my knees and put a finger over her lips. The others were stooping down beside us except for the one they called Jude. I know that the name was supposed to register, but with the lack of input from my fashion mask, I had to rely on my memory. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I drew a blank. I watched as this long haired man, with the confidence of a lion and with the same total lack of self-consciousness. I watched as he casually stood there. He seemed to me to be the most dangerous person I’d ever met. And, oh – ya, I’ve met some very scary individuals, but as he stood there coolly looking into the forest, there was an alertness in his eyes; in all their eyes. They all had that same quality. He was maybe the scariest person I’d ever met.
He looks feral, I thought to myself. Like a panther, or a jaguar, completely at home in this environment. He catches me watching him and smiles. It changed his demeanor completely; the most open and vulnerable face I’d ever seen, than it’s gone as his attention moves on. How I wish I had access to the ‘net’ right now. It would only take seconds for me to plug into Facebook and match that face. Can’t hide that face.
The five Sisters that I knelt with seemed to be exchanging looks before one of the new arrivals addressed me. “My name is Apokata, girl, and I need you to listen. What we are about to do has never been done. You will speak to no one, and you must always stay with one of us.” She sounded calm, as though explaining something to a child, but her body language spoke different. They all seemed alert, as if preparing for a fight. “It will be well girl,” Grace says beside me, still holding my hand. “We will not leave your side.”
“Why?” I ask looking around. Watching them as they tried to hold their apprehension in. I figured I’d try a different angle. “What’s going to happen ladies? Am I going to be fed to your people in one of your communion sacrament’s?” I was smiling as I asked this but their reaction was definitely unexpected. The woman who first spoke to me blushed and looked down the path we’d just come, as if wishing she’d never seen me. Grace gave my hand a squeeze and smiled at Apokata, nodding as if in encouragement. Fiducia was smiling as well and she followed the woman’s gaze . . . “Life’s terms’ Apokata,” she said. “Life’s terms. Has the chisel begun to fall . . . already?”
Jude squats down beside Apokata, seeming to repress a smile, he puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her one of the most tender pecks on the cheek that I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been on the receiving end of many a kiss. There was nothing sexual or flirtatious about this kiss. It was the most affectionate and loving act I’d seen displayed in my short life. It tugged on my heart . . . a wish for love that I’d long ago forgotten.
He remains leaning on her, head to head, whispering in her ear. When they part, I see that the tension seems to have left the party. He looks at me, the smile making his face seem much younger. “We are going to bring you into one of our OutTowns, girl. For the FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY this is almost home. We have never brought the ‘lifeless’ into our camps, but Wisdom has spoken.” He was still smiling, but his eyes were very serious. “This has never been done, so we do not know what to expect. Just stick with Grace, or Fiducia. Otherwise, try not to stand out.” He chuckles as he rises to his feet and pats Apokata on the shoulder. It struck me as a very fatherly motion coming from such a young man. She seemed to accept the gesture as she looks to Jude and rose to her feet. There was much to be learned here. I watch as Jude walks away chuckling, looking down and head shaking from side to side. The last thing I heard from him as he disappeared down the trail was his chuckling voice whispering “. . . try not to stand out . . .”

Grace pulls me onto my feet and releases my hand. “Just stay beside me girl, and try to relax. You’re with friends.” We followed Apokata and Fiducia as they trailed after Jude. The path, which was not very wide to begin with and at times disappeared completely, seemed to be getting wider. And the sounds of the jungle began to quiet. “They probably saw us coming hours ago and they’ve already carried the others you were with inside. They’re not going to be a problem. I think your being awake and walking in with us on your own, I think that may be a problem . . . I just don’t know. We’ve never done this before.”
Waking with Grace down the well-worn path, I was surprised to see four little girls, between ten and twelve tossing a wooden disk among themselves. One of the girls tosses the toy to one of the others and turns to watch as we approach. “Your clothes look funny.” She says, walking up to Grace and me.
I watch as Grace goes down to one knee and kisses the little girl on the cheek. “Stop staring little Sister,” Grace says to her. “She’s my guest.”
To my shock, the little girl turns to me and says, “It’s nice to have made your acquaintance Phoenix . . .”
I grab her by her shoulders and ask, “How did you know my name!” My real name, the one I’d been born with. The name on my passport was the name the Company gave me. The name that this girl used was the name my family gave to me. She should not know this name.
She smiles at me. “Adonai knows every bird in every tree. He knows you too. He sees into your heart and soul. You are very dear to Him.” She was looking at me solemnly, and as I released her and stepped back, Grace says, “Peace girl. You are with friends.” To the little one she says, “Go play with your friends and stop staring at my guest.” The last was delivered playfully.
“But she’s wearing moccasins . . .” says the tallest of her friends.
“And she’s lifeless . . .” says her redheaded friend.
Grace takes a threatening step toward them and they all break for the trees; she turns and makes her way back to me smiling. “Welcome to camp shade, OutTown two.” She said, gesturing to her left and up.

SLEEP

It was beautiful. There was enough opening at the treetops to allow Sol’s light to reach the ground and to light the children’s activities. But there was enough shade to hide us from the sky and as I look up at the trees, I begin to make out structures. The trees seemed to hold structures inside them. I mean that when I looked through the branches and leaves . . . the trees seemed to embrace buildings and houses inside its limbs and boughs.
And the more I stared, the more I seemed to notice people walking around up in the trees. They were hard to spot. And besides the children playing together, there really were no adults visible on the ground level besides us.
“Come with me girl.” Grace says kindly to me and began a slow pace through the trees. There were kids and children running and playing all over. There were people my age and younger. Some as young as four or five. Even the youngest looking ones were able to converse. I see Fiducia up a ways speaking with a boy who looked a couple of years younger than me, maybe seventeen or sixteen. It was hard to put an age on the Followers. She’s gesturing frantically as he laughs, watching her intently.
There were groups gathered together, singing as one or two of them played those ancient wooden guitars. I didn’t know that people still played these antiquated instruments. I’ve heard them played in museums and strummed on YOUTube . . . but it never sounded like this. I’d never heard music like this; unsynthesized and alive. Without enhancements or amplification, the notes seemed to hang in the air pure and clear. Each note hanging vibrant and distinct, yet forming a harmony and coherence that pulled at my heart.
But even as I watched these groups of singers, as I listened to their harmony, I longed to be a part of them; of their group . . . I did not understand what I was feeling. I did not know these people, yet I desired to be known by them; to be like them in their confidence and poise. In the self-assurance and coolness that even their children seemed to possess. What kind of brainwashing is this . . . ? Then I felt a soothing hand on my shoulder and I turn to see Grace’s smiling face.
“What you’re feeling is their Worship. Where two or more of Us gather, Adonai’s presence abides. The pull you feel is ‘deep calling unto deep’.” She takes me by the hand and begins to lead me toward Fiducia and her friend. “There are no coincidences with Adonai. You were brought here and we need to know how the Body may help you. I see him knocking on the door of your heart, but will a deaf man hear a knock on his door?”
I heard her words and I understood her words, but I could not seem to understand what she was saying. I mean I understood what she was saying but it wouldn’t make sense to me no matter how hard I concentrated. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Grace. What exactly are you saying?”

Upon reaching Fiducia and her friend, they both turn to us with smiles still dancing in their eyes, “Welcome to Camp Shade girl, and this is my friend Steophin.” The boy . . . man, that she gestured to was taller than the three of us, and was definitely taller than my finder. “Welcome to OutTown Two.” He turns to Fiducia and shows a lopsided grin. “How’s an all loving, all knowing God allow such occurrences, eh?” He turns and walks away smiling. He raises a hand as he retreats saying, “I need to find Apokata before the meal. Maybe you should take her to get a good meal which means taking her into the trees. Can’t wait to hear about it. Peace, ladies.”
“He’s right,” Grace says to me, “We need to get you fed and lodged. You should be able to stay with Fiducia and me. I’ll find out the arrangements while you’re getting fed. Please follow Fiducia while I arrange your stay.” At this I detected an edginess in her voice and body language. I noticed her square her shoulders and lift her chin as she makes her way to what seemed like the center of the forest.
“I think that this will be fun girl. We’ll go find some food down here, then we’ll go sit in on one of the lesson’s or worship . . . we’ll find something to do.” Fiducia turns and waves for me to follow as she goes the opposite direction than Grace. “Let me introduce you to some of my friends.” She kept a quick pace considering how quiet she was. Not a sound.
I followed willingly, completely amazed by what I was seeing. We seemed to be entering into the shaded part of the trees, or what seemed like trees. But as we got closer, I was able to get a better look at the structures that we were approaching. They were trees all right, but very different from how we think of trees. There seemed to be a set of stairs that wrapped around the large trunks of these trees, but they were made of wood. No, that’s wrong. It wasn’t constructed or nailed or screwed together. It seemed more like branches that were plaited and interlaced together to create a structure from a living tree without cutting or killing the actual tree.
The branches and leaves seemed to be draped over each other, or maybe more like the branches were enfolded and bound; interwoven and knitted together, and as I looked up, I saw the branches merge together into a laced canopy over our heads. They would direct the growth of each branch until the trees themselves would encircle the light PVC frames that were the skeletons of their dwellings. Over time, and with a lot or patience, the tree would enclose and incase the frame into a living structure that was concealed from prying eyes.
Secreted among the trees were the FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY. The trees screened them from aerial observation, as well as shrouding them from any casual observer who happened to be walking by. And any observer would have been spotted miles before they made it to the OutTowns.
I heard laughter, lots of that, and music. And the smell of food. That’s when I realized just how hungry I was. I think I smelled ‘real’ meat. I heard activity all around me, but there didn’t seem to be enough people around to account for it.
We approached a canopy over a small fire pit where people seemed to be gathering. There were children there and others around me and Fiducia’s age. They smiled a greeting at us and several of them rose and placed their lips on her forehead or cheeks. “We heard news about Lynn’s party that just arrived. She seems to have the best adventures of all of us.” A strawberry blonde teen of about sixteen was directing her comments at Fiducia. I remained silent and observed.
“THIRDSPIRIT is moving through our forests today.” She says smiling at everyone. Putting her hand on my shoulder and bringing me into the conversation. “This is my friend Pheo. . . Prudence. She’ll be staying with me and Grace until the situation is clarified.” She held her smile bravely. “We were going to go and find something to eat. What are you guys making?” she says looking over the girls shoulders.
The girl with the strawberry red hair smiles at me and puts her open palm over her heart, “Nice to meet you Prudence, I’m Mary,” then puts her open palm on my heart. “Peace to you and yours.” She says smiling. And I think that I did feel it, this peace, which seemed to embrace me. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling. “Have a seat, please. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to anyone from the City. However did Adonai bring you to us?”
I look around for a place to sit and realized that even down here at ground level their interweaving of branches and leaves was apparent. They were all sitting on logs and tree stumps that curved to their bodies. The unmistakable handiwork that I glimpsed up in the trees was evident down here as well. I sat down on what seemed like a wide bench which bent and adjusted itself as it distributed my weight out comfortably.
I was comfortable for the first time in days (it seemed like years).
The smell coming from the fire pit initiated a ravenous hunger that I was unaware of. Whatever they were cooking smelled scrumptious and my mouth began to water. My stomach began rumbling and the child beside me smiles and offers me a large leaf with some meat and fruit. It smelled delectable and I gladly took the leaf of food. “I’m Adrian,” she says to me as she gets off our bench and walks to the fire. I turn to Fiducia as I begin to bring the food to my mouth. She gestures to me and says, “Not until we give thanks to Adonai Prudence. He supplies our stores so we might use it to feed others. So we thank Him knowing He will continue to supply our stores . . .”
“Lock Shields.” Says Mary and everyone gets up and holds hands, interlocking their fingers and facing the sky with their eyes closed. I was watching and was startled when she began to sing . . .
Come THIRDSPIRIT-
Fall afresh on me.
The voices of the others as they all joined in filled the air with crystal clear harmony. I seemed to see their words floating up into the trees and up into the sky. I must’ve been delirious from hunger. . .
Fill me with your power.
Satisfy my need.
Only YOU can make me whole –
Give me strength to make me grow.
Come THIRDSPIRIT- and fall afresh on me.
This was not what the text books claimed. Videos of the prayers of the FOLLOWERS were nothing like this. I’ve seen vidz of them babbling like chickens, or running around the aisles. Vidz of them laying down in rows like pictures of the dead in Islamabad, or possessed by siezures. But not this; there was a sacredness and inviolability in what they just did. There was a clarity and pureness in their actions which divorced them from the banality of their ordinary activities. All these months of studying and prep-work and I come to find out that nothing I’ve been taught was even close to the truth.
We released our hold on one another and began to look for our seats. Fiducia took the spot beside me on the bench and everyone launched into their food. The only word I could come up with for the meal, of which I went up to the fire two more times, was “YUMMY!” The meat (real meat!) was so tender and came off the bone easily. There was a texture and a greasiness that you can’t duplicate with the Cities processed meats. I’ve been all over the world and tasted foods from many different countries, but this was something else. I was full after the first serving I was handed, but I got up twice more simply because the food was so ‘yummy(!).’
I found myself captivated by these people. During the whole meal, there was laughter and good conversation and I was carried along as they talked about their lives, and the day to day business of living. There was an openness and sincerity in their conversations and always they spoke of this Adonai. Whether talking about their laundry, or animal traps, they would mention Adonai’s hand in all their goings-on. All seemed well with the world.
“Where is this Adonai?” I ask, and everyone stops talking and as one turn toward me.
“That is the truth of the question,” Fiducia replies. “Where? But, let me posit this question to you Prudence. Where is Adonai not?” This question was asked with a tilt of her head.
“He’s not in the Cities. He’s not in the mosques. He’s not in the gutters of San Francisco . . .” I answer, knowing how petulant I was beginning to sound. I know too much and have seen too much and done too much to believe the fairytale that the FOLLWERS espouse. Not about to fall for it.
“Listen,” says Fiducia, “It’s real simple, but at the same time it may seem hard. It all depends on which side of the coin you stand on. You see these children around you, they are taught to question what they see and hear. At a very young age girl, they are taught to think rightly. They never ask wasted questions like, ‘why me?’ or all the ‘gimme-gimmees’ that people assume that God is concerned with.”
I understood the words, but I didn’t understand what she was saying. I’ve always prided myself on my reasoning abilities. No matter where the Company sent me, it was my reasoning abilities and my knowledge that always gave me the edge. With these people I felt like I had a wet towel wrapped around my brain. “I don’t even know how to answer that Fiducia.” I answered blandly.
“Of course you don’t Phoenix,” she says, using the name that might get her throat cut. “Your ‘gimmees’ are quite different from the average person’s. And your training disqualifies you from the needs that other people require. Yet never once has it occurred to you that all your training, all your education is for the promotion of your employers dreams while you place yours on a shelf. In fact you’ve never had any dreams of your own . . .”
“You don’t know a thing about me Fiducia. So what is it exactly you think God is concerned about?” I ask with venom in my voice.
“Why, our salvation of course.” She says, smiling, as though it were the most obvious thing that there was. “He will put our salvation ahead of our happiness. The discipline that humanity is undergoing is due to our own ignorance and choices. We succeed or fail by our choices and our choices are shaped by our relationship with Adonai.” Now her expression changes, seeming to see into me.
“This is some kind of THIRDSPIRIT set-up Fiducia.” The almost red-head says.
“You guys don’t know a thing about me!” I say petulantly, wanting to walk away but knowing how foolish I would look, since I had nowhere to stomp off to.
“Yes, you are right. I know nothing about you,” she says, surprising me with her sincerity. “But he saw you when you were still hiding in the gutters and levies of Sacramento Phoenix, and He chose to put your salvation ahead of your happiness.”
With that, she turns and begins asking a brunette behind her whether Steophin has been seeing anyone while she was out on the hunt. Obviously the ‘hunt’ required extended periods of time away from the OutTowns. I turned toward the fire wondering if there was any food left after that feast. I was much hungrier than I had thought. I sat down on the bench I’d recently vacated and the little girl returned with a kind of pudding made from rice, maybe corn . . . I didn’t know what it was. I’m from the City. I eat processed food. It was wrapped in leaves and it was warm. I took a tentative bite and found it warm and sweet and very filling. I turned to thank her but she’d already left, but I found two more of these wrapped desserts on the bench beside me.
I leaned back on the bench, making myself comfortable, and peeled open another of those succulent desserts and ate it much slower than the first one. There was an opening in the trees toward the direction we’d come from and I watched the stars make their appearance one by one. She knew that when Luna made her transit, she’d be able to see the lights of XinXu City, first actual city founded on Luna’s surface. Well, actually it’s built partially above ground, but most of the complex was underground. The light that was seen from earth were all the machinery and equipment needed for mining and shipping material.
The apparatus for mining Luna were sent first, and the facilities were built while the Chinese lived in their little capsules. It took almost a year before they were able to move into one of those living compartments. They lost four people that first year but they persevered, and now they’re the main source of lunar diamonds and gold. And that crap that can only be found on the moon, but it’s some kind of mineral necessary to run our computers and smart tech. I don’t know what it’s called and I don’t care.
If I still had any family left, that’s where they would be. Slavery is still illegal in the US of the A, but bond servitude is not. For a while there, people were just walking away from their bills and claiming bankruptcy. They walked away from their car payments, and house payments, and student loans. Even those who claimed to be children of the LIVINGGOD made excuses for why it was acceptable to act like the world. My great grandfather, who was an ironworker, walked away and claimed bankruptcy as well. They came for him later on.
When Sharia Law was instituted, it became illegal to not pay your bills. If you owed too much and were unable to pay, the offended party is able to take you to court where your property is confiscated for resale at auction, and the person is apprehended for re-education, where they are taught how to work the technology for mining Luna. They are then sent there to work off any debt incurred. So basically, PayPal confiscates your property and sells it and pays your debt. They take you, re-educate you, then they send you to the moon to work for the Chinese Solar Mining Industries, who currently owns the debt after paying your debt with PayPal. It was big business for China, and more cheap labor, and its easy money for PayPal. That’s where they would be if I still had family. But Trump Industries does not know if they’re still alive. And if they did know, they’d inform me. I believed and trusted them with my life, literally.
I allowed myself to dose off slightly. All around me were the sounds of laughter, conversations and children at play. The air was swathed with the aroma of food and sprinkled throughout the darkened forests were spots of light where different groups had started their own small blaze underneath a protective canopy of leaves.
And almost concealed throughout all the activity was the music. It seemed to move in and out of the forest, mingling into conversations, and laughter and activities. I felt the evening’s first cool breeze and I felt more at peace than in any time in my life.
Then I think that this is where fatigue finally caught up to me as I felt my chin rest on my chest and I succumb to sleep.

OutTowns / FOLLOWERSOFTHEWAY / * Accentuate the architecture in the trees * Bridges & platforms disguised by live vines and branches * Platforms & structures are designed by bending and growing the branches over the years to make the frames for walls * Leaves & branches are bent, grown, cut & grafted into shape to protect from the rain and from Sol. * You can’t make them out, but if you look closely; I mean really look, you realize just how many structures were in the trees. A whole city disguised in leaves. * On the ground, younger adults & kids * In groups worshiping w/ music * Having fun / always happy * Teaching each other * Helping each other