The Lord opened the fourth seal dramatically in the gloriousness of heaven from the divinely inspired prophecy Book there. The wonders of it all beyond the imaginations of mankind. The effects upon the inhabitants of the desolate earth were immediate.

      The world moved into another phase of worldwide Tribulation where twenty five percent of the global population perishes by starvation, by violence, by wild beasts and by a combination of troubles, there were so many troubles everywhere in those days; no writer could tell you them all without fogging up the big picture.

      "PRAY ALWAYS, YOU MAY BE ACCOUNTED WORTHY TO ESCAPE ALL THINGS TO COME TO PASS," Joed told the great congregation of survivalists with all of the underground running smoothly again, but bitter memories of weeks of candlelight in unheated caverns inside Granite Peak took their toll. The Seer could see those gathered were in a foul mood.

      He finished speaking of "dangers they could possibly face in the Fourth Seal as the world empire gained greater control of resources to carry out diabolical purposes."

      The Seer turned the the state of the art underground stage over to Jeremiah Jones smoothly to discourse on the present security situation when a cry arose from the audience. "Resign." "Turn in your badge!" "We spent two weeks in hell cause of you." "You should have brought those three insurrectionists back to make sure nothing went wrong!" "We want more information." "We want a full investigationi." "We want another Security Chief!"

      Jeremiah was speechless. He knew he blundered, but it did not occur to him how upset the underground population was over it. Many of them were suffering from flu and pnemonia. Their underground crops died. A flood of water leaked from the shut down food storage freezer turning to ice in housing corridors. Several injured in falls. Research and Development idle. They lived on crackers, milk, cold cereals, and dried fruits mixed with nuts for two weeks. It was so cold in every corner of the Granite Peak underground no-one could bare to look outside of their blankets for more than a few seconds to do anything.

      A newborn baby died in freezing temperatures below zero before good news finally came to so many disgruntled inside Granite Peak.

      The Secret Police post at the Summit Camp was destroyed. The generators were back on. They had light and heat again. They could go back to work. Their children could go back to school. They could relax their anxieties.

      Joed stood to speak with his hands raised for calm. The audience hushed its temper til all was quiet again. "We will do as you say if you provide a suitable replacement for Security Chief. Who do you think can do the job here?"

      Jeremiah stood behind blue splashed white theatre curtins listening. He was hurting inside as Whitey ganged up on him again. So it seemed as several hands raised high in the audience. Each one seeking to put him out of his prized role as an underground Network leader.

      Three men and a woman joined Joed on stage where he asked them. "Do you believe in drawing lots to see who the candidate is?"

      They nodded their consent. The audience was polite as Joed held out his fist with four straws. Each one took a straw. "Okay," Joed told them in a gentle but firm voice, "the three of you with straws of the same length can return to your seats. The one with the odd straw will have a tough assignment to carry out to prove his ability to rule as one of the twelve, but remember; God works in mysterious ways.

      Carl Holland was left standing. One of Doctor Weinstein's better researchers in the Spy Devices Department. Zealous and knowledgeable. Single and studious of the Bible. He was medium built at five foot eight. A weight lifter who ran back corridors faster than others who exercised zealously underground. He could press three hundred and fifty pounds. Built like a bull. Broad shouldered with thick legs. His neck twice that of ordinary men. The people had great confidence in him. They rose to their feet cheering!!!

      When they settled down, Joed smiled in the joy of the Lord toward Carl. "We will need proof of your capabilities to wear the Security Chief badge. Are you ready to go on a dangerous top secret mission?"

      Carl Holland did not hesitate to accept. There was a sense of destiny in the way his life had taken a sudden turn to a different course. He was not numbered among complainers nor had he coveted Jeremiah Jones badge of authority. Joed smiled in a fatherly manner saying to Carl ever so softly so the audience could barely hear him. "You have three hours to get your affairs in order for a long journey. Can you do it?"

      "I'm ready now." Carl replied mightily with a broad smile on a big face. He was no different than other survivalists hiding in Granite Peak. He would gladly risk his life for the cause to go upstairs where hurricane wind blows ice into a man's beard and rotten rocks crumble under foot. Where the unfortunate fell to their deaths from the narrow ten foot bridge of snow into the rocky toothed mouth of death far below on either side. He would rather give up the comfort and safety of underground living to withstand another attack from eagles who strafed climbers on Granite Peak like Regime jets with claws. Carl was starving to inhale a sunrise even if nuclear clouds hung in the gallery of divinely inspired art. He was ready to feast on a sunset even if packs of frenzied animals hunted for flesh to eat. He yearned to listen to an orchestra of birds in a tree singing even if Regime sirens interupted it. The mighty man was ready to die to go back into the world again.

      They exited. Two men climbing into a dark world of shadows while the sun disappeared over the vast horizon from on top of the world. There was an occasional glimpse of the vast panorama as they wrested with Granite Peak in their arms. Mystic Lake far below lit up their descent with moonlight reflecting up toward the cloudless peak.

      The mighty mountain held them to his bosom as two ant like men rapelled skillfully down his rocky iced chest.

      They rapelled below the killer snow bridge where three rebels fell to their deaths trying to climb back to the futuristic underground they fled thinking life might be better outside.

      Jim Li' surprised Carl Holland as they rapelled steadily down Granite Peak together to Freeze to Death Plateau where they stored the rapel equipment. The prophet was thin bodied. He didn't look like a man's man. But looks can be deceiving.

      They kept on going past Freeze to Death Plateau under the cover of darkness. When they reached Summit Camp, they shined flashlights onto the ashes of the building the Regime set their antenna on for communications. Charred bodies were visible.

      Carl went to their vehicle and found keys in the ignition. He started the four wheeled drive and turned on the heater. Ice was already melting from his gear while Jim Li' scraped a Jack Frost masterpiece from the windows.

      They made their way down the washboard road. Their headlights piercing through black darkness. "Scatterings of pine trees and no sign of life," Carl told Jim Li' as the Hummer fought from one rut in the road to another. A few minutes later they came upon a bull moose standing in the middle of the road. "Hey, he must weigh close to a thousand pounds." Carl declared.

      "Try turning off your lights." Li' suggested humbly. "He might be able to find an exit out of our way."

      Carl turned off the lights and the bull moose ambled off into the forest.

      "Should we kill him for meat?" He asked his Asian American companion.

      "No, his meat is too dry to eat." Jim Li' replied matter of factly as he looked over in the shadows of the vehicle. He's good for bone soup. And his heart would cook up into a meal. God uses moose to feed on trees so forests don't get too dense."

      Carl laughed. Jim Li's perception of life was unique. He was Security for a very important person in the kingdom of God.

      Morning dawned as they drove North to Fishtail with an occasional mobile home or single family dwelling in sight. They were in white man country. Barren. Windblown. Isolated.

      There was starvation everywhere as the two drove slowly through town. People were like scarecrows walking dead. The small town gas station was abandoned except by a dying old man who told them in a whisper. "The Regime controls gasoline. See for yourself," he whispered gasping for breath. "There ain't no vehicles out heah runnin' on fuel. An there ain't no food cause they all got paid to grow nothing."

      "It's hard to eat nothing partner?" Carl told the old man as he leaned over with an energy bar and a fruit drink. A meal fit for a king in a famine. The old man's eyes lit up. He was barely able to hold them in feeble hands as his benefactor thanked God high above him like a skyscraper. Praising God for the ability to love his neighbor.

      The dying old man's faith was renewed. He had strength to die in peace now.

      "This vehicle will only be good as long as we can refuel it," Carl advised Jim Li' as he climbed back in.

      "No." Jim Li' noted wisely. "We have contact with a Network of resources. A Skyhorse can land anywhere with fuel. This is an all terrain survivalist vehicle. It can plough through sand and water and climb over rocks. It's also a shelter out of the storms. Let's not take lightly what God provided."

      Carl drove out of town in the Hummer embarassed into silence. "When will I learn to think things through before speaking?" he berated himself.

      There was a riot of dogs down the shattered street. They were blocking the way. Carl stepped on it. The Hummer picked up speed. He turned sirens and flashing lights on. The pack of mad dogs thought a more ferocious appetite than theirs had arrived as they fled back from their prey with snarls of warning.

      Carl was not ready for what he saw in front of the Hummer. A human skeleton bloody red with a few pieces of meat dangling deliciously on its bones to frenzied dog eyes. Carl accelerated through the scattering pack in flying dust of disgust scattering them.

      They drove on Montana backroads heading North for Route 90 West. "If I can't take care of a prophet, I'm not qualified to take care of a National Network." Carl advised himself meditatively as exhaustion began to take over his mind.

      Jim Li' looked up from a deep sleep. "Need me to take over the wheel."

      "No. I'm looking for a place to camp for the night."

      "We will go straight through to Reno, our mission target. Pull over so I can drive."

      Carl looked over with mighty tired eyes. He realized for the first time he was not in charge.

      He was too tired to think. He pulled over on a two lane country road cutting its way through a barren land. No other vehicles had been seen except for a farmer with cows pulling the welded out frame of a motorized vehicle. He fell asleep thinking, "Oh my God. We are going for a drive in a stone Age world."

      Jim Li' drove with the two way radio on. He remembered the number it was set on before Carl confused dials searcing for what he might find.

      Regime Command came on.

      He heard Sammy Kane's world famous voice saying.

      "This is Regime Secret Police: Speaking to the driver of the Regime Hummer turning West on Route 90 in Montana. Identify yourself or I will blast you off the earth!"

      Jim Li' pulled over. There was a Global Positioning Device somewhere on the vehicle. He looked inside the engine. Nothing. Carl was up. He stumbled out rubbing sleep from his eyes drunk with fatigue.

      "I'm looking for a GPS wire to their satellites. We need to disconnect it." Jim Li' told his exhaused mission companion.

      Carl found wire cutters in the glove box and cut the wire sticking up in the vent system of the dashboard.

      Sammy Kane was informed immediately inside Secret Police Offices in the Castle of the Prince of California. "They cut GPS to hide from us." He marched from his offices to the throneroom inside a beautifully pillared building on the other side of marvelously designed pools of water.

      The Prince sent three of the fastest jets in the world to destroy any Hummer found on Route 90 with the sun going down. The pilots had to hurry or the enemy could escape.

      They strafed a Hummer on the road on the way to Greycliff. It burst into a flaming blaze of materialism killing the two occupants. Sammy's Gestapo landed on Route 90 to look at the charred ruins a few minutes later.

      "Vel. It looks like dey don't steal Regime Vehicles agin." The German pilot told his navigator. "Ve got dem good!"

      "Ya. Das ist richtig. Deuschland uber allas. Ve got dem good." The German navigator replied. World dominion was in their blood.

      AntiChrist was greatly pleased to hear the war against Joed was going well in California. Renown Christian leaders were being paraded into houses of worship in many parts of the world where those who stood up for holy faith in God were given what to say by the holy Ghost and were sentenced to death as heretics. The plan to eradicate the people of God was moving forward with great haste.

      A door creaked open in a dark makeshift prison cell on the east coast of the shattered superpower. Johnny was awakened by the bright shining light of his prison warden coming in with the sun behind him blinding in all its brightness. The poor weary minded jokester looked up hungry from not eating for days.

      "Got some food fer ya'." Lem told him stomping in to the wretched table against the wall to set down a plate of cold waste products not fit for pigs.

      "Why are keeping me locked up here?" Johnny groaned in disbelief. "What have I done to you?"

      "My Pa don't like your Mormon jokes." Lem told him. "You may as well git used to where you're at. You're gonna be heah a long time."

      "Could I at least have a Bible to read?" the jokester pleaded as he sat up in the flea infested bunk.

      "No Sireee, they's illegal, ya' know. Don't want ta'git caught wit one of them books these days."

      "What'll they do if they catch someone?" Johnny asked as he eyed the plate suspiciously.

      "They'll kill ya' fer sure."

      Johnny could not believe this was happening to him. The door creaked shut. The rattling of the lock outside told him he was still a prisoner in solitary confinement in a tool shed with barely enough space to stand up and sit in the only chair. The light bulb hanging from the ceiling gave him headaches when he looked at it. An icy cold breeze seeped through the cracks of uninsulated wood walls. Spiders were his companions. He had nothing to do but watch them and pray, but making supplications to the LORD did not come easy for the hard hearted. He was more inclined to complain to God about the unjust treatment he was receiving.

      The underground Sebastian delivered food to was hungry again. A spirit of anarchy took over while Tony Cruz was working on Skyhorse to make ready to go out again. Teams were already outside searching the countryside for something to eat against Sebastian's counsel. He informed them as soon as he arrived, there was nothing but ashes for thirty miles. "If you allow teams to go out scavaging, you'll probably lose the right of evacuation." He explained to an angry group of hot tempered North Carolina Christians in their vastly inferior underground. "Joed will not risk capture to evacuate an underground already giving itself away."

      "That's your advice to Joed! Ain't it?" One Southerner declared loudly. "You'll tell him it ain't safe to come here when it is."

      "I told you the Regime almost took us out with a heat seeking missile on the way here. It's more dangerous outside than you've ever experienced in your lives."

      "It's more dangerous because ya'all led them to us!" Another man accused him angrily. "Now yer sayin' we cain't git no help."

      "I can't make food deliveries to you on a regular basis. You eat up what I delivered in three days." " Sebastian replied calmly. "Every vehicle moving about is exciting suspicion all along the way. The Regime is not the only danger above ground. If you people had waited, there yet remains hope the blackout at headquarters can be lifted."

      "Do you know how long it takes to starve to death?" One of the women shouted from the back of the crowd gathered deep inside the mountains above Cadres Cove, North Carolina. She was cradling a sleeping baby in her arms. "My milk has dried up."

      "Joed taught against having children in the Tribulation long before you had your baby." Sebastian replied calmly again. "We cannot afford to risk a hundred and twenty five adults for your baby. She is actually more expendable than them. They can carry something out of here if we have to abandon this underground, but she has to be carried."

      The woman exploded into hysterics at the power of Sebastian's words. She turned to the man she had the child with out of wedlock and handed him the baby. "Heah, ya'all kin have her to take care of. I am afraid I will kill her for something to eat!" She rushed out of the room and the woman's husband came over to get his baby looking wide eyed at the other man.

      A fight broke out as he hit the adulterer with his fist steeled. The bloodied man went down with the baby in his arms. Chairs crashed. Men took sides. Sebastian hurried Amber Evening by the shoulder pulling her toward the door. They exited into an adjacent cave where Tony had Skyhorse ready as a survival van. He fired the jet engines.

      They roared out of the side of the mountain as the rioters ran into the cavern. "Ohhhh." One of them declared down on his knees. "We'll never see them again."

      The entire underground lost hope. Their trust in God shattered. They had helped build the Network from the bottom up while Joed built it from the top down. They felt betrayed. Hunger gnawed at their minds. They were glad everyone was growing to weak to fight anymore. A calm soberness fell over them all.

      In the morning they did what the hungry do. They struggled out of the underground thinking there had to be something to eat where the sun still shines. To their uttermost amazement there were boxes of dehydrated foods everywhere like manna outside their underground. They had water and fuel and the privacy to cook underground. They feasted that night in North Carolina somewhere deep in the Smoky Mountains.

      Joed stood with Jeremiah Jones in the Spiritual War Room inside Granite Peak. The hulking African American warrier listening attentively. He was not under house arrest nor was he in the prisoner's tank, but he was ready for the worst. It looked like the people had given Joed a mandate to punish him.

      "Jeremiah. You have the same access to the Spiritual War Room and the same freedom of speech you exercised with me ever so wisely through the years." Jones face lit up. Joed went on. "Put Security to work setting up an executive suite for Carl Holland's safe return. In this way, you will soften their hearts by serving their will as you continue to rule over them in the same way we established before your role in the underground became an issue."

      Joed had spoken to Jeremiahs' fears. He had been tormented by the thought of going to work in the coal mines, though he was ready to do it to attain to Christ through the cross. When God saw he was willing to be despised and rejected he spoke through Joed to keep him in a command position.

      A Skyhorse was coming in. The men in the Spiritual War Room got down to the business at hand.

      Demons rode eagles like jockeys on thoroughbred horses in the sky as princes of the power of the air. The eagles were turned to see Sebastian approaching the mountain like a missile as it opened its great mouth to swallow the prize of a successful mission into the bosom of its heart.

      The eagles were flown by invisible jockeys to the air space over its great mouth to meet Skyhorse in its supernaturalized descent.

      A collision took place. Eagle feathers flying into the air. The big birds fell to their deaths. Skyhorse spiraled out of control. Radio contact was lost. Emergency buzzers sounded in the underground.

      The mouth of Granite Mountain remained open as three Skyhorse helicopters came out of the mountain. Each carrying fire retardants to drop onto the flames should they find Sebastian's Skyhorse burning.

      Sebastian's Skyhorse met them in the air over Granite Peak to their astonishment. The veteran Marine pilot did it again. He flew a plane into the jaws of death and survived.

      There was great joy in underheadquarters. Bob Ford and his staff of twenty prepared a feast. "Great good follows great evil, and great evil follows great good," as the Seer previously taught them. After two weeks of extreme misery, they were hoping for two weeks of extreme happiness in the underground.

      Joed commanded the door to Morgan Sharp's prison suite to open by voice activation and the former financier was surprised as he looked up from studying the Bible to see the man of God standing there.

      "May I come in?" The Seer asked politely.

      "Of course," Morgan answered hastily. It had been two years since they had conversed. "Come on in and make yourself comfortable."

      Joed walked in looking about at the suite. Morgan kept it clean and orderly.

      "I hope you're able to stay a while." Morgan pleaded without any sign of bitterness for being imprisoned by the man he financed. "I'm trapped. I've gained an abundance of knowledge from the Word of God these past two years, but I haven't been able to put it to use to integrate it into a new creature in Christ."

      "You've been putting the most important part of the new man to use in hiding the Word of God in your heart so you might not sin against the LORD." The Seer explained with a smile of confidence radiating enlightenment. "I came to help you become a disciple of Jesus Christ in your monk's cell if you are ready to draw closer to God than you have ever done."

      "The Bible is the great mystery of godliness in writing," Morgan replied hastily at so awesome an offer. He sat up energized in his office chair focusing on the hypnotic eye of the Seer. "I think you're a Steward of Mysteries hid in the Spirit of God."

      "Good! I'm glad I came." Joed strode out leaving his prisoner speechless.

      "What did I do wrong?" Morgan asked himself glumly. He hurried to the door to look out of the small window in the door of his prison suite. The corridors were empty.

      Morgan threw himself onto the sofa to think and found the secret of the Lord. Security could hear him praising God from his suite.

      The entire Granite Peak underground was in a holy Ghost revival.

      Joed presided over holy Communion. Breaking bread with them in the state of art underground dining room. They drank from the corporate cup common to all but Morgan's private chalice arrived a few weeks later after he learned to balance the pearl of great price into his life.

      It soon became evident Morgan Sharp was becoming a Saint as they monitored his prison suite daily from the Spiritual War Room watching him pray and praise continually. His was one of the eight big screens encircling the War Room.

      Morgan Sharp saw visions and dreams. These he told to Security when they came. He was so excited about what God Almighty was doing in his life, any suggestion he might wish to be released from the prison of his monastic cell was rejected. So great was his desire to continue in strict privacy unto the LORD God of all Reality.

      There Morgan Sharp saw visions beyond anything Hollywood could put on film. Felt the ecstacies of pleasure so often absent from his previous successes as a billionaire. Saw beauties of holiness pouring out of his mouth like rivers of living waters praising God. Was amazed as anything he needed to get into the anointing was delivered to his suite before he knew he needed it. The new man emerging saw things differently in growing depths in the Spirit of truth.

      Morgan Sharp's captivity turned to his advantage. He had more time to seek the Lord than anyone in the underground.

      A crowd of men armed with rifles marched on to the elephant seal sanctuary a little north of Hearst Castle crazed with hunger. "You have thousands of elephant seals. We haven't eaten a solid meal in six weeks and are almost dead. Give us a seal to eat!"

      The spokesman's head was shot off like a watermelon exploding onto the crowd standing behind him trembling for their lives.

      "This is the King's meat." The Commander of the guards told them in a gruff voice. "If one elephant seal is missing, the Prince of California will hang us. You need to go somewhere else for food."

      The Prince was having elephant seal in the Hearst Castle Palace when Duke Willy came with his royal entourage. The famine was hard in Death Valley. They suffered from contaminated water, crazed animals, and famine with violence of every kind. Ethnic gangs came and went into the vastness of Death Valley with enough fire power to outgun the Duke. He soon found it necessary to put men of every color on his staff to speak to racial warlords for him.

      The Duke was ready to offer a prisoner in chains for favor. This was no ordinary criminal he paraded in front of his entourage in chains.

      The German Prince was a bull with sharp horns. Sammy Kane came out with ruby handled guns in either hand pointed at the prisoner's head.

      "The Duke says you have information for us concerning Joed."

      "I am a member of his underground." The dim witted Californian humbled by circumstances replied in desperation without fearing for his life. He thought the Bible said he was to obey your government no matter what.

      "Where?"

      "I cannot say."

      "What does he look like?"

      "He has a long beard. He's tall. Walks straight up. Is the wisest man I have ever known."

      "Tell him the location of the underground!" Duke Willy growled like a provoked bear.

      Sammy Kane cocked the pistols in his hands pointed at the prisoner's head.

      The man was silent. He was dim witted but his faith was stedfast. He could not focus on the prince sitting majestically before him, and the cocking of pistols in his ears simultanously. Slow mindedness caused him to focus on only one thing at a time. He could not come to decisions as fast as normal men, but by centering his focus on only one thing he was able to eventually come to a conclusion.

Sammy was infuriated at the slowness of the man who did not seem slow minded to him. He slapped him across the face. "Wake up. You are in the king's palace. The Prince does not have time to waste."

The Prince continued cutting elephant seal meat on his plate while Sammy Kane harassed the poor man. When he was done chewing, he declared to all there.

      "Enough! Put him in da' dungeon and torture da' truth out of him. "If he's dumb enough to tell us der's an underground in Death Valley, you vill be able to get valuable information from him."

Sammy Kane's ruby handled pistols were hostered as he stood by the Prince staring at the fat Duke of Death Valley who came forward to kneel upon the royal pillow before the throne. "I brought you gifts worthy of a great Prince and the prisoner you requested with many promises of enlargement." He announced with his hands outstretched in submission. "We hope you can provide meat. The famine is severe in Death Valley."

The Prince signaled for Duke Willy to rise. "Bring da' other gifts."

He was greatly pleased as he continued to eat steaming elephant seal meat with his personal staff of waiters standing by holding trays laden with wonders of food preparation expertise.

He looked up keen eyed as Germans are inclined to do, in the strict discipline their race of white men practices.

"It vill be no problem to feed your entourage. Ve have plenty meat for long time so long da herd keeps producing. So long da'hungry don't put it in der belly. It vas a beeg fabor, the American police dis'arm da' people before ve came here or dey vould have eaten dem all."

The prince paused to drink wine from a silver chalice given him when they crowned him in "the great city which reigns over the Kings of the earth."

"Ve ration vat ve have due to de'mand my forces vant to keep up da' good vork subdu'in'g dis kingdom to its form'er pros'per'i'ty." he told Duke Willey.

Duke Willy understood what the Prince said in broken English. He would be lucky to carry back an old worn out elephant bull much less the fleet of refrigerated vans he brought with him to carry fresh meat.

Duke Willy's entourage brought a red wood box filled with gold and silver coins and jewels as an offering to his majesty. The Prince was pleased and told him so. He was all the more pleased however with the prisoner who had wandered from the underground in the Panamint mountains where he was captured.

The Prince sent Duke Willy North with his entourage to load his fleet of refrigeration trucks with elephant seal and penguin meat from the Ano Nuevo Island preserve. The Duke also departed to his Death Valley domain with several armoured vehicles to help him deal with racist warlords passing through his domain. His pride and joy was an Abrams tank with twenty five nuclear tipped shells riding on a flatbed truck. The Duke was excited. He was going up the success lader rapidly achieving wealth and power beyond anything he ever imagined.

The Prince of California offered Willy an armed escort back to Death Valley but the Duke felt the fifty armed men with him were more than enough and he did not wish to seem weak nor did he want to share the command of his convoy.

The paved highway over the Panamint Mountains west of Death Valley was blocked by ethnic warlords fighting for control of it, something the Prince was inclined to let them do in the hope they would kill each other off. So the Duke decided to take a single lane road south of Wildrose and Emigrant Canyons crossing the Panamint Mountains through Mengel Pass at 4,328'. There the oiled dirt road looks smooth, but is not. It has sudden curves when least expected. What was a five and a half hour ride for a jeep became an entirely different journey for Duke Willy's convoy. The sun was setting in the West when they began and the Duke's brother in law driving the armor vehicle in front led them into a canyon where the road dead ended. Willy was furious. Turning the convoy around took hours after Willy had them unload the Abrams tank thinking it better able to climb the mountain than the flatbed truck which he sent back to the Prince who lent it to him.

Willy climbed in to drive it and discovered to his embarrassment it was not so easy to drive. "I can drive it," his brother in law confided. "I'm a heavy equipment operator. I'll adjust to it in a few minutes."

The convoy was off again as Duke Willy puffed on a cigar inside his jeep. This time he took the lead to make sure they didn't get lost again.

He had no problem finding Goler Canyon Road. A hard packed single lane road winding over the mountains. The going was slow. They were surround by the darkness of a black night on all sides. The Duke knew only a few people lived up this way. He thought maybe he might get lucky and find more of Joed's survivalists. But the headlights of his convoy gave him away.

Willy's jeep struggled over ruts in the road where he almost turned his over. He was in a temper again. They passed an old rotted vintgage dump truck and abandoned mines. And a little further along the dirt road were more vehicles abandoned long ago. It was there Willy saw tracer fire coming from automatic weapons. Several vehicles immediately behind exploded He turned his lights out and stepped on it. In a few minutes with lights on again, he looked back to find no-one following.

      The Duke stepped on the accelerator leaving a trail of dust. He soon found himself alone in the black wilderness. His rear view mirror reflecting flames further and further behind him. He realized now how stupid was for bringing a convoy over a mountain road. His vehicles couldn't turn around or go forward. He reached the summit where a crescent moon hung over his dark domain. There was the usual cloudless sky. A few lights flickered in the valley beneath.

      Guards on the hills around Scottie's where the Duke's operation was situated, shot off guns to signal all was well as he drove like a tornado into the compound. The womenfolk made a terrible wailing when he drank himself drunk. By the time he awakened, the attackers were no longer to be found. A few refrigeration trucks with tires shot out minus their precious cargo of seal meat remained with burned out hulks of blown up vehicles. Armed Cobra helicopters searched the mountains with no success. The attackers had apparently disappeared into the maze of Southern California city wrecks.

      The Prince stormed in his castle when the Cobra Commander returned. "Da armored vehicles and da artillery I gave him vill find us. Don't you vorry." "Dat stupid svine in Death Valley helps enemies of da'state. He feeds dem seal meat and arms dem vit nuclear shells."

      A Hummer with Regime insignias on its doors was passing through a small town in Idaho seemingly untouched by global disasters except every church building was burned to the ground.

      The two men pulled over to examine a burned out church building a little more closely and were startled to find the charred bodies of a congregation lying in its ashes. An old man in farmer's overalls wandered up to the window of the driver's side. "What kin we do for the Regime?" He asked the Oriental American as they pondered the situation.

      Jim Li' turned quickly saying: "It looks like you already did it." He was quickened by the Spirit dwelling within his mortal body.

      "Yep, we burned em' alive." The old farmer boasted with his thumbs behind his suspenders now and his chest puffed out. "Been wantin' ta'do it fer a long time."

      "They do you evil?" Jim Li' asked calmly looking at the wrinkled up countenance of the old farmer.

      "Nope. Matter of fact, most of them did me nothin' but good. We jus got good and tired of all thet God talk here in town."

      "Well," Jim Li' replied firmly in perfect frankness. "If you do evil to those who do you good, evil will not depart from your house. When you return home, bad news will greet you at the door."

      The Regime Hummer moved on down the road while the farmer hurried home to find out his oldest son was dead. Killed in the truck taken from one of the Christian families burned alive in the church. Somebody else thought they did more to earn the truck than him.

      The farmer's heart failed him at the door. He fell into a hot place where there was only blackness of darkness. He called out for help but his tongue was scorched like scalding hot coffee was poured onto it. He screamed in agony and his tongue was stabbed through with pain as though someone drove a knife through it. He was afraid to move for the longest time. Finally he groped in the dark without feeling anything or anyone but thought someone close had said, "Is that you Dad?" Where was he? He had to get out. The place was on fire. But it was not illuminating the black darkness. He didn't want to die. Where? Where was the exit? "Somebody answer! Somebody help me!" His tongue exploded with pain in his mouth. He was silenced. Now he understood why it was so quiet. He was in hell.

      The Regime Hummer roared west. The noise of wind against its windows was loud. The two men could hardly hear themselves speak. There were no speed limits in those troubled days. They were doing a hundred where the highway was undamaged.

      They approached the city limits of Boise, Idaho as darkness fell without any difficulty in seeing it. The city was in flames from racial strife. A looted tractor-trailer lay wrecked along the side of the road in the light of the city. The driver dead behind the wheel.

      Jim Li' pulled over. "The gas gage is on empty. Check the gas tanks on the truck Carl."

      The driver's side tank was empty. It made a hollow sound as Carl patted it with his hand. "It's empty!" He called back.

      "Check the other side for another gas tank!"

      Carl, realizing his error, hurried around the cab of the truck. "This one's full!" He called out. as he checked the passenger side tank. "Apparently the looters were in a big hurry to get out of here."

      "We'd better hurry too." Jim Li' cautioned. "The Regime might want to hang someone for the murder of the driver."

      "We'd better go around Boise." Carl shot back excitedly as he grabbed a piece of hose they collected along with a bucket to catch the fuel. "We can make Nevada by Midnight if we don't get snared in this city's troubles."

      The next morning Amber Evening walked into the young children's classroom in all her loveliness wearing her sky jump uniform with her swooper pack.

      "Are you ready children to learn how to jump into the sky?"

      "Yeah!!!" They all called out with one voice. "We'll do anything to go outside."

      "I'm here to teach you how to skydive if we have to leave our home here. But we can't go outside to practice."

      "Ohhhhhhhh!!!" They answered with one voice.

      "If you know how to jump out of a Skyhorse, you might have a better chance of staying alive. It will give you two ways of getting out of the sky once you go up."

      "Yay!!!" They called out with one voice again. "We're ready!!!"

      "Okay. Who's the best survival student in this class?"

      "Reno!" "Reno!" "Reno!"

      "Okay. You can come up here Reno." Amber invited her sweetly. "We have a parachute rigged to the ceiling so you can learn how to pull the strings to tell it where to take you.

      "Have you ever jumped from a plane Reno?"

      The little eight year old shook her head no. She was still embarrassed at how much attention she was getting for surviving the Reno underground disaster.

      Amber turned to the children with her hand on Reno's shoulder. "You know children. When you jump, you cannot be afraid. You have to think you are having a good time. Some people get so afraid they cannot think. I have jumped out of planes 7,000 times and I'm still alive. You 'll fall fast, but fear is the only thing you have to be afraid of. I will tell you how to outsmart your fears so you can have fun. Reno outsmarted her fears and she's still alive. Were you afraid when the bad men came into your underground Reno?"

      "Yes." The little girl admitted humbly.

      "What did you do?"

      "I…I remember what Daddy… said I was small enough to climb into the ventilation system and close the vent door behind me. So I climbed onto his desk and opened the vent. I was inside before they found candles to light."

      The class knew the story. It was an ice cream cone. They wanted more, especially when an adult survivalist of Amber Evening's stature heard it too. The Reno adults were dead, but someone their age was still alive from a major disaster.

      Reno was a bright shining star among her classmates wherever she was in the skyscraper inside Granite Peak. Someone who could win against evil forces destroying the world they lived in. The students believed fervently in the Lord they could feel with hands lifted in worship praising him, and they believed in the skinny brown haired girl they could see and touch. Her new parents cautioned daily to not let the adulation of fellow students steal glory belonging to God for her deliverance. She knew she was nothing. God was the beginning and end of everything.

      Amber Evening walked Reno to her seat saying to her privately as though the class was privy to a secret. "You know the closer to the ground you fall, the faster you think you're going."

      "Yes, we guide our parachute away from dangers as soon as we jump into the big picture."

      "You mean to tell me," Amber stood back surprised, "you are going to look down when you jump into the sky???"

      "Oh sure. I want to see the ground far below my jump like a game of chess I never played. I want to work with God in finding where He wants to put me on his chessboard to fight against evil."

      The children underground were all skillful at chess with so much time on their hands.

      "How do we overcome evil?" Amber Evening asked her.

      The little girl hero hesitated.

      She knew today was anointed in underground headquarters while the world above them was starving to death. She answered in humility smiling up toward the lovely young woman towering over her: "I must overcome my flesh in the Spirit."

      Her teachers sitting in the back of the classroom were amazed. Amber Evening had brought out the best in Reno. The class applauded as she sat in her seat. Amber exited the classroom for the day.

      Sammy Kane's male secretary entered into his quarters to speak to him in offices next to the Prince of California's throne room. "Sire. Our men in the Reno underground are trapped. They cannot open the manhole cover to get out of their underground bunker."

      "What's stopping them?" Kane cursed!

      His male secretary answered quietly in the voice of a man who in no way came to interrupt his master's thoughts. "Sire. It's difficult to be sure from surveillance photography but it looks like there is a Hummer parked over the manhole cover there."

      Sammy Kane leaped up from his desk wide eyed! "Get my private jet ready!"

      "It's ready Sire. The runway is clear. Your servant set two coolers full of ready to eat food and drink by your seat in the jet." He smiled with a bow while the butler rushed in to help his master into gear needed for the flight. His servants followed with it in their arms. His guards stood calmly outside thick large wood doors, assault weapons at attention. Familiar servants hurried past into the princely palace bedroom and out. The guards could kill Sammy Kane in the blink of an eye, yet they feared what would happen to them were they to try. They didn't think of assassination. Their survival depended upon fanatical loyalty to the Chief of Secret Police.

      Sammy's jet roared in the sky. An hour later, he climbed onto the highway his pilot landed on and was greeted by a team of agents from the Nevada area ready to drive him into the desert where they found the Regime Hummer sitting unattended with keys in the ignition. It had been left running to burn up the fuel. Sammy Kane flew into a rage. "Joed destroyed our Granite Peak operation. Now he parked our own Regime Hummer on top of the manhole cover to tell us mockingly, he knows we're here." Sammy shook a clenched fist in the air threateningly. "I will get you Joed. I will tear the flesh off of your bones!!!"

      The agents pushed the Hummer away from the manhole cover and were greeted by trapped team members from underground. "You three will be reassigned. I want this underground sealed tight so no one can get into it. You're going back to Reno headquarters. Your vacation is over." Kane was raging. He paced the desert floor while his men worked.

      The power of the Regime was growing like killer weeds in a luscious garden, their roots stealing life from the ground people walked on. Johnny Jokester heard the clanging lock on the door of the dilapidated tool shed he shared with cockroaches and spiders. He had not washed in two months. The wretchedness he felt was indescribable. His clothing was full of putrid sweat. Every pore on his body screamed for air.

      The Mormon farmer's son, Lemmie; opened the storage bin door glaring into the lighted tool shed. "Here's a bucket of water an' soap with a brush. You'll make do. I ain't your water boy."

      The door to the tool shed slammed. Johnny could hear the chains and locks outside on the other side rattling a few moments. Lemmie's footsteps got further away.

      Johnny looked at the clear water in the bucket for a long minute. This was the first time in his life he ever stopped to appreciate water. He reached in his hands for a drink and muddied the water. "Oh my God. I forgot how dirty I am."

      The Jokester fell to his knees drinking out of the bucket like an animal without dirtying it further with his filthy hands.

      There was nothing in the tool shed but a lice ridden bunk, a wobbly chair and table with a blinding light hanging from the ceiling. Johnny wanted to break the shining light, but where would he get another. There was no light switch to turn it off and on. He was tormented by past, present and future. His stomach exploded. The floor was carpeted with vomit. He hung his head like a foolish man condemning himself for wasting water so desperately needed.

      He picked up the bucket and poured it over himself and when he realized his clothes could not come clean, he pulled them off and hung them out on the miserable furniture of his own private hell.

      Lemmie opened the tool-shed door again. "Good! You already have your clothes off. Put your hands behind your back. The gun in his left hand was hard to argue with.

      Lemmie took the Jokester down into the slime of his worst imaginations where Johnny hung onto his life by a thread. For days afterwards he could not move.

      The zero insulation tool shed boiled in the heat of day and froze in the dark night of his soul. Johnny awakened to a spider hanging from a line he lowered from the ceiling in artificial sunlight day and night.

      Johnny had no-where to go, so he moved not at all to avoid the miniature visitor. The spider did amazing things on his face few men have ever experienced. He marveled at the incredible creature climbing his rappel thread up to the ceiling.

      Johnny did not know he was a becoming a disciple. The tool shed was his monk's cell. He recited the two commandments the perfect Laws of God are hung upon. "Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and your neighbor as much as you love yourself. "

      Lemmie came in irregardless of the former jokester's condition til Johnny convinced his assaulter of the need to keep him in good health for his wicked purposes. Lemmie brought much in the way of supplies with him in the future. Life became a little more bearable for the prisoner.

      Whoredoms multiplied worldwide.

      Inside the Spiritual War Room, Joed was speaking with Carl Holland with Jeremiah Jones standing by. "Carl. Do you think you are qualified to rule over Network Security or just over Security in this underground?" Carl is pensive before answering. "Joed. After being with a knowledgeable prophet like Jim Li' where I was able to measure my shortcomings against a man of his stature, I would prefer to be Security Chief just for this underground."

      "Okay." Joed replied. "I will need your help convincing the people that Jeremiah Jones will remain Network Security Chief and you will be under his authority."

      Carl became pensive again.

      "That will work." He told Joed. "If Jeremiah understands the people want me to handle any fugitive situations concerning this underground."

      "I understand you will be in charge of any Security operation relating to this underground." Jeremiah smiled at the knowledge Whitey in no way intended to dump him. "The gray area is your ability to accept Joed or I overruling you if we see a greater risk you might not be aware of in a crisis situation. We have a much greater capacity for information gathering here in the Spiritual War Room than you do outside of our underground."

      "I'm sure the people will be pleased with the new arrangement." Carl replied. "Will I have access to the Spiritual War Room?"

      "No." Jeremiah Jones answered softly, unless there is a situation requiring it. We are managing the Network here and cannot afford to have it become the business of the people in this underground. "

      Carl stood before the gathering of the underground in the state of the art theatre. "I have accepted the role of Underground Security Chief here as you wished and will be in charge of daily security as well as any security problem developing outside on the mountain. You have my pledge I will never leave deserters behind to tell the enemy our hiding place. Jeremiah Jones has much more experience in law enforcement, in investigating murders as a detective for more than two decades, in dealing with gangs, in forensics, in the use of spy equipment and many other things pertaining to security. He will continue as Network Security Chief under Joed. I hope you are pleased with the new arrangements."

      Three thousand survivalists stood to their feet applauding. Subconsciously, they had feared a growing police state underground and asserted themselves in demanding a replacement for Jeremiah Jones after his foolish error in leaving two nearly frozen to death fugitives alive on Freeze to Death Plateau. Now they felt their voice was heard. The claustrophobic oppression of living underground was lessoned. They no longer felt like prisoners of Joed, but were becoming more aware they were prisoners of the Lord in a dying world.

      Jim Li' walked into the throne room of the Prince of California unannounced. The Prince looked up from his jeweled throne surrounded by attendants, guards and guests from all over the world, and could not believe his eyes. The Prince stood to his feet declaring: "Who are you? Vat are you doing here? How did you get in dis place?"

      "I walked in." Jim Li' answered as he continued to walk toward the Prince. The guards turned their guns on him fearful he might be armed with explosives.

      "Dats impossible. My 127-acre compound has da twelve feet high, four foot tick walls wit five hundred armed guards. Dis building alone has ten guards vith two at da doors."

      Jim Li' stopped upright before the Prince within twenty feet. He was silent.

      The Prince was provoked. "Answer me! I vant to know da' truth."

      "I came to see you about the survivalist you are about to execute."

      "But I vant ta' know how you get in here."

      "I did not come to discuss your security, oh Prince. The prisoner is dim witted and cannot defend himself. It is unjust to execute him."

      "Vait a minute. Vait a minute! You are wit Joed."

      "I am obviously not with Joed." Jim Li' answered in a dark saying to confuse the mind of the Prince. "The prisoner is innocent. I am here to defend him before you."

      "Dis is a crime. Your coming in dis' palace vitout permission. Guards! Arrest dat man. Take him to da' dungeon and torture him to tell ver Joed is."

      "Git me Duke Villy on da' line." The Prince ordered one of his attendants. "I vant to know ven he is coming to pay me for da' armored vehicles he gave to da' enemy."

      A few minutes later, the attendant informed the Prince in his throne room that Duke Willy could not be reached directly in Death Valley. "He is searching the Cashier's mine for Joed and cell phones do not work there."

      "How dey' contact him den?" The Prince wanted to know.

      "They use CB's."

      "Okay. Dey vill tell him and he vill let me know soon. I know dat man vell. He vants more power. He vill vork for it."

      The sun was going down on another day in the battle between good and evil in the world, an opportune time for survivalists in Titus Canyon across the border from Death Valley to take care of their business. They lost the slow minded man the Prince of California was going to execute, on this kind of a night walk. They were searching for him again.

      The laughter of a flock of crows echoed in the canyon.

      "Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw."

      Coyotes were calling one another to the hunt from one mountaintop to another. Every creature hearing it, returned to safety deep inside their hiding places. Coyotes were experts at digging out their prey. It would be another long night.

      Seven men came out of a narrow separation between the rock walls of the canyon. Night vision goggles developed by Weinstein helped them see further into the night than an eagle owl. There was no talking. The crunch under their feet was muffled by soft rubber soles on their hiking boots. Each man was armed with a silent communication device operating off of their own satellites twenty five thousand miles above the earth.

      The Prince of California's Secret Police had the slow minded brother's device but did not know how to activate it, neither would the prisoner tell them anything of value while they tortured him. He was greatly encouraged when he discovered Jim Li' came to die with him. The flesh was melting off of their bones.

      Titus Canyon is a barren land except for a few springs of water recognizable by green growth and infestations around its wells. The canyon did not invite wildlife to come and feed or drink inside its rock walls reaching toward the sky. The dirt road into it was one lane. No fun if you meet someone going the other way in a vehicle. It was also a dangerous footpath for the eight as they hiked into the darkness the canyon magnified by blocking the little bit of light the moon reflected from the night sky.

      A mountain lion greeted them hungrily snarling as he leaped onto the back of the last man passing beneath a gigantic boulder. He was crazed with hunger and fatigue. It was him or the man. He ripped and tore at the man's pack, but could not get to the neck. The man was down on his knees with his arms around his head. Other men came running. The beast heard them and fled into the canyon. They knew he would be a threat on their return hike. They also knew the canyon was game starved. The wild beast was trapped. Predators did not retain strength long in Titus Canyon.

      The men heard winds whistling in the narrow rock canyon wall it roared through during days when summer heat escaped through canyon alley, the name they gave the one-way road. The canyon was an echo chamber. It was a long hike. Their ears tuned to every sound. They finally came to the narrowing of canyon ally where the creek bed running alongside the road merged into one. The creek bed was a product of flash floods. Anytime there was serious rainfall above Titus Canyon, there were flash floods to carry off the run off from such a great mountain. God help any man caught in one.

      They approached Red Pass, the open door into their choice of survivalist territory. The night was black. They could hear the wind howling above the sound of their footsteps. They were at peace with God. The Lord kept them safe this far into worldwide Tribulation. The plan was simple. They had an old beat up pick up truck stored in a cave just outside of Titus Canyon. If no-one had bothered it, two of the older well known men to Death Valley inhabitants would drive it to Stovepipe Wells for supplies. It fired up fine. And the two drove off into the dark night. There was a full moon. God hung a lamp over the vastness of the desert.

      Morning dawned spectacularly as the two climbed out of sleeping bags in the back of the pickup. It had been an exceptionally cold night. They were glad the general store was opening up early as usual. The first thing they wanted was a hot cup of coffee to warm themselves. The wife of the owner brought two steaming cups out from their quarters in the back.

      The local proprietor of the general store never gave it a second thought when the two familiar fellows bought enough supplies to keep themselves going for a long time. Locals oftentimes carried off huge purchases. His store was too far to drive for perishables so they put several cases of milk on ice in the bed of the pickup. They also bought dozens of cases of 12 ounce canned meat at a hundred dollars a can in Euros. Those cans contained already cooked Hereford roast beef. Great for hikes. The can was the pan many a hiker used to heat the meat over a campfire.

      They never looked like they owned much. But prospectors had come in in the old days looking dirt poor with gold dust in bags they poured on his counter to pay for supplies good for a year. The world was in famine. The price for food outrageous. Thieves killed for a loaf of bread. He warned them. "Hope ya'fellas brought yer guns. There's thieves everywhere these days."

      "Nope. Don't wanna kill nobody." Hank told him.

      "He has a hard enuff time killin' a pesky fly." Clem added with a corncob pipe in his mouth. "But he hates snakes. I keep on tellin' em' we ain't in the garden of Eden."

      The proprietor laughed. "It's yer hide. You kin do with it what ya' want. They say Duke Willy's bringin' in tanks an armor vehicles ta' police the desert."

      "Wouldn't surprise me none." Clem answered as he paid the bill in a stack of European dollars. "The day'll come when every thief is cleaned out of this here territory."

      The proprietor didn't answer. He knew what Clem was getting' at. They counted Duke Willy as a thief and a murderer, but no-one dared say it.

      Clem drove the loaded pickup up to the Titus Canyon cave where they kept the old pickup truck. Demon winds howled hard above them. Hank gave a voice command and the back wall of rock opened wide. They were greeted by crowds of survivalists in a tither of anxieties beyond imagination. The five men hiking out of the canyon were missing. Contact with them went unanswered.

      Supplies were unloaded and the rock returned to its place with a loud "clank."

      Things were sinking bad to worse. Underground leaders from Titus Canyon contacted Joed. "We would like to be evacuated as an underground. Presuming Duke Willy has captured the five men who are missing to torture them, we reckon one of them's gonna tell where we're at to save their hide."

      The Prince of California was delighted. Five more prisoners were added to those already starving in the dungeons below his throne. The price of food was so high in the famine, his guards were carrying off their rations to sell outside of castle walls.

      Jim Li' was in a cell next to the slow minded brother speaking to him through the iron bars. "Listen to the Lord." He said. "The Devil will throw some into prison for ten days. Endure to the end and you shall receive a crown of Life."

      The slow minded brother could barely sit up from his prison bed of hard wood. "How …many days …have I… been here?"

      Jim Li' could be heard praising God unceasingly in his cell even though he eat nothing for days. Other prisoners could see he wasn't famished while they melted away. They were unable to sing in the beauties of holiness like the Saint and when they tried, guards who tortured them daily beat them into submission in their cells. Yet, the same wicked guards did nothing to stop Jim Li' from singing more beautifully than they ever had heard a man sing.

      Bob Ford was vexed by the sudden arrival of a 123 survivalists from Titus Canyon. He was Food Chief and immediately saw the need to come up with an additional 134,785 meals a year to feed them. "Granite Mountain is barren of food outside Joed and our food production capacity is inflexible. If we intend to supply our underground population for the remainder of the worldwide Tribulation, you will need to find another home for the newcomers."

      "If we put them on one meal a day rations to discourage them from desiring to stay here, how many meals must we feed them in a year?" Joed asked his Food Chief who was always armed with numbers and facts.

      "That'll cost 44,895 meals." Bob Ford replied with a concerned look on his face.

      "Okay. Put them on one meal a day while they're here. We'll move as quickly as we can to find God's will for them individually. Meanwhile they will be confined to quarters so they don't burn up the fuel you are feeding them, that is, unless they want to work in the coal mines. They'll eat what you feed the miners."

      Bob Ford was satisfied. He returned to the 20,000 square foot of underground food production he managed with a sure knowledge of how the situation was going to be handled. He came up with a nutritious menu for his guests. The food they brought with them in the evacuation was matched by what they carried away a few weeks later to one of several vacant undergrounds built for such an emergency.

      The five prisoners of the Titus Canyon underground came to understand from their interrogator's questions how Jim Li' came to defend their slow minded brother before the Prince. They were baffled too. They could not explain it.

      They were faint and weak from hunger and torture while Jim Li' praised God day and night in his cell without sleeping. Even when he rested on his hard wood bunk he praised God. One of the survivalists struggled to the bars of the cell for a word with him.

      "Jim Li'."

      The Saint continued praising God softly as though he had not heard the weak voice at the steel bars of his cell.

      "Jim Li."

      The prisoner felt small when the man of God did not respond to him.

      "Jim Li'." He called out pleadingly.

      "Yes." The Oriental American replied sitting up in his bunk.

      He did not stop praising God to answer the man struggling to hold himself up by the iron bars of the cell.

      "How …is it you are not faint …and weak like us?"

      "In weakness his Strength is perfected."

      "I…I…don't understand."

      "The Word says the Devil will throw some of you into prison for ten days. He who overcomes will receive a Crown of Life."

      The prisoner struggled to hold onto cold prison bars. The climax of conquering this world over the evil flesh they wore was near. All hope was already gone of ever being healthy again. The torturers had damaged their wonderfully made bodies. Cold Northern Californian winds chilled them as they raced through dungeons like howling demons. Insects and rats attacked them bodily when they tried to sleep. Moldy bread came with buckets of water to keep them alive longer while guards robbed them of the little the global Regime provided. He was clearly distressed.

      "Oh my God. Ohhhhh My God." He groaned. "But …why did you walk into the palace when you knew the Prince would starve and torture you too?"

      "It is written: Open your mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction. Open your mouth, judge righteously and plead the cause of the poor and needy."

      "Oh my God. Ohhhh…my God." The prisoner replied in awe. "You are a holy man. A holy…man. But it didn't do any good. We're all going to die anyway." "

      "You look upon the appearance of things, but God looks upon the heart." Jim Li' replied as he laid back down on his hard bunk continuing to praise the Lord as though the man were not there clinging to the bars of the cell.

      At that moment, the Admiral of a fleet of destroyers off of the coast aimed the big guns of his flagship at Hearst Castle. "Get ready to fire. We will teach the Prince why he needs to share his seal meat with us!"

      The prisoners were killed instantly as shells exploded inside the palace buildings. The Prince stared wide eyed in disbelief as he stood in the gardens of the palace with Duke Willy who back in favor with him for bringing in the five survivalist prisoners. They first thought it was Joed until the cell phone in the Prince's pocket sang its tune. "Vat is it?" He answered abruptly.

      "Your majesty. Would you like to supply us with seal meat now or would you prefer to have your palace blown off of the face of the earth?"

      The Prince immediately realized it was the Admiral of the European fleet. "Take vot you need from der Nuevo Ano Island." He replied quickly.

      Meanwhile, the guards saw a figure walking in the smoking mist of destruction, but did not yet know they had been shelled. The fear of the Lord was upon them. All their instincts were screaming it was judgment for the evils the Regime was perpetuating. They watched the man of God descend down the slopes toward the coast highway and did nothing, thinking perhaps he had brought fire down from heaven upon them.

      The Prince was so concerned with damage to his palace and his injured royal pride, he did not find out till late evening when his prison warden dared approach him. "All of the prisoners are dead Sire and Jim Li' is unaccounted for."

      "Vat do you mean by dat? Ver is he?"

      "We do not know Sire. We are still digging into the ruins. Perhaps he is buried in the rubble or he might have escaped in the confusion after the attack. We are already searching the hillsides along the coast highway, but he has not been sighted." The prophet had work to do for God.



. ..........................eye ball id illustration for eyeball recognition camera in the voice recognition doors of the underground. Having difficulty locating an entry into one of the undergrounds so I can put the illustration to use.

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