The Remnant

Should I stay or should I go

The next morning a very tired, very beat-up Peter broke through the doors of their house, carrying Abigail in his arms. His eyes were filled with distress as he looked over to his mother, whose face was filled with shock.

“Mom . . . she's not waking up.”

Linda, Peter's mother, did not ask any questions. She told him where to place Abigail and instantly got to work on her, aided by her eldest daughter, Rachel.

David, hearing his brother return, raced down the steps and gasped at the sight of him. He looked as if had rolled in the dirt and then some. His face was pale, and his eyes were red as if he had been crying. Their eyes met and David slowly approached him. He rested his arm on Peter's shoulder, but he just shrugged it off and glared at his older brother, who had refused to lend him a hand. If he had, maybe everything that had transpired last night might not have happened.

Peter stormed off towards the wreckage. He needed to blow off steam, but more importantly, he needed to be alone.

David stood still, feeling the coldness of his brother's exit. He glanced over to where the very battered Abigail now lay face up on the long stretched out couch. Both his mother and sister were aiding her in whatever way they knew how.

Regardless of this incident, David needed to speak with Peter – needed to tell him what Juda had mentioned to him the previous night. He glanced over at his mother, ensuring that she saw him leave, and then he was off. He jogged casually until the figure of Peter could be seen in the distance. He was leaning against one of the split gum trees, head resting against the trunk, eyes shut. David slowed down, aware of what his brother was doing and not wanting to interrupt him.

David sat down right where he was standing and simply looked towards the ground. It had been a long time since he had prayed. Nights after the earthquake he prayed that he would find his father. He prayed that Gwen and her family would be okay but God hadn't seemed to have heard him – that is, until last night, when Gwen proved that she was still alive.

But from what Juda had said he wasn't sure for how much longer. He brushed his hands through his hair as he breathed out deeply, trying to piece together everything that his older brother had said to him the night before.

“Get them out of here,” he remembered him saying very seriously. “Head to the mountains; you'll be safe there.” With that Juda had left, and David hadn't seen him since, although that had only been a few hours ago.

“What are you doing?”

He heard Peter's cold gruff voice as he towered over looking down. David soon got to his feet and dusted off the sand from his pants.

“Peter, I've got – ” he began, but his younger brother was quick to cut him off.

“Why didn't you come with?” His tone was not an angry one but one of despair. “If you did maybe . . . ” He had to stop as he could feel tears welling up inside of him.

David could see his pain and tried to comfort him. “Peter, I'm sorry,” was all he could say. Then he noticed it. There was a mark on his brother's arm – a mark that almost looked like the tattoo of a symbol. It had the appearance of a cross with an ‘X’ through it. Surrounding it were four small dots.

“What's that?” he inquired curiously.

Peter gasped at the sight of it– it was evident that he was not aware of it ’till now. “It's nothing,” he murmured vaguely.

Suddenly a question hit David, a question that he had not thought of asking until now. “What exactly happened last night?”

He saw his brother's eyes darken as he brushed past him, apparently determined to leave the past in the past, but that just wasn't good enough.

“Peter!” David called, keeping up the pace. “Where did you find Abigail? Why is she unconscious?”

He finally placed his hand on Peter's shoulder, causing him to stop instantly. It was then that David noticed the tears streaming down his face. He was shocked by it. It had been years since he had seen his younger brother cry; usually Peter was much more of a man than he ever was.

“I saw it,” he heard Peter say weakly as he brushed the tears out of his face.

“What did you see?” David said, reaffirming his statement.

There was a long period of silence before he answered, “I think I saw a vision.” He took in a deep breath. “David, something's coming. I saw it last night. Abigail had been taken by Dean.”

“Dean!” David almost shouted, his mouth wide with shock.

Peter just shook his head. “Yeah, it's a long story, but we managed to get away. On the walk home, I saw a light that started glowing from behind the mountain range. It swept over the mountain and eventually consumed both Abigail and me.”

He stopped again, rubbing his forehead as if trying to remember a dream. “I can't tell you what happened from there but I heard a voice speaking to me.” His tone was soft and full of questions. “It said something like, ‘Find them. Find the Elect.”

David was now engrossed in his brother's statement and felt it was the time he knew.

“Gwen called last night.”

Suddenly Peter's eyes flew open wide as he gazed intently at David, urging him to go on.

“She said something about ‘They’re coming, looking for someone. Run, kill, and Pine’.”

David could see Peter’s brain was trying to piece it together when he blurted out, “Pine Gap!”

There was a long silence between the two. Peter could see that David had already heard this information.

“I know; Juda made that connection as well. He told me to round up the others and hide.”

“Where’s he now?” Peter asked, befuddled.

David just dropped his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve not seen him since last night. He told me he had things he needed to finish. He told me to go home and warn the others.”

“Well, have you?” Peter questioned almost immediately.

He shrugged. “And tell them what? Are we being hunted? Some unknown villain is looking for us? Oh, and let’s just throw in the conspiracy theory of Pine Gap, why don’t we? That will make it all the more believable.” David was clearly being sarcastic.

Peter nodded his head. He couldn’t see the folks back home taking kindly to the idea of leaving the home that they had all just settled into. Nevertheless, in the pit of his stomach, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were not meant to just stay there and wait for everything to sort itself out.

"So the voice that spoke to you." David began asking. "Did you recognize it?" There was a long pause as he could see his brother thinking deeply with a look of both befuddlement and insight all at the same time.

"To be truthful, I did. But for the life of me, I couldn't tell you whose voice it was." Peter said disappointedly as he lowered his head. "It said something else," Peter said after a long pause before continuing. "It said something about remembering it all."

"Remembering what?" David questioned as he placed a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. Peter merely shrugged it off and turned his eyes towards the mountain ranges where he said he had seen the light come from.

"Remeber....." yet before he could continue there was a thud and the ground shook slightly, followed by a slight mechanical clanking. Both boys’ eyes met as a fear coursed through them – it was coming from the home. They raced and darted in the direction of the cabin only to stop several meters away. In front of them was what appeared to be a spaceship, but was, in fact, an advanced high-tech helicopter.

David gently placed his hand on Peter’s arm, knowing his younger, hot-headed brother would want to be the hero and dash in, not noticing the revolvers that the men who now encircled their home carried.

But Peter was aware. His heart was pounding as he tried to see through the windows. He was looking for his family, his friends . . . Abigail, but there seemed to be no movement.

“Who are they?” Peter whispered, glancing over at David. He could see he was taking everything in, bit by bit. Yes, David was the analyst in the family; he was the one who remembered everything, down to the smallest detail. Often it annoyed Peter, but at times like these, it was a trait he found invaluable.

“Government?” David replied, shrugging, very unsure of his answer.

They both continue to watch as the men seemed to be going in and out of the cabin at will. There was no movement from inside, and that very fact caused both young men’s hearts to pound violently in fear.

Then they saw it. First, it was one. Then there was a second one, followed by four others. They were bodies – unconscious or dead, the boys could not tell. Each one was carried onto the aircraft up to the ramp on stretchers. The bodies were covered with a white sheet, so identification was impossible. Then the men finished loading up the helicopter, and both boys ducked behind a nearby shrub as it took off in an eastbound direction, for the mountain range.

They sat still without saying a word until the helicopter was out of sight, both knowing what was on the other’s mind. Then with one accord they darted up from their hiding place and sprinted towards the cabin. On nearing it they came to a slow stop. Peering through the open door they could see their home had been ransacked. Everything was broken. Furniture had been toppled. Even several dishes had been smashed on the kitchen floor, but there was one thing that both saw, and that filled them with dread – blood.

“I feel like we just walked into a movie,” Peter commented gruffly, slouching down on the couch where Abigail had just laid. He covered his face with his hands.

David just stood there as Juda’s words ran through his mind over and over, “Get them out of here.” Well, he hadn’t. He had been held back by his fear and weakness and because of him, everyone left that he cared for were now on a plane, headed for goodness knows where.

He soon joined Peter’s side as he continued to look around, finding everything hard to comprehend. Suddenly both boys sat up with a jolt, hearing footsteps along the side of the house. David grabbed a broom that had been left lying on the floor and Peter grabbed a poker from the fireplace. Standing on either side of the door, they made eye contact, counting silently.

1 . . . 2 . . . 3

They leaped out, weapons raised, but to their surprise, they heard a very familiar scream. Peter’s heart leaped with joy as David dropped the broom with a very apologetic look on his face.

“Abigail!” they both gasped, seeing the small, brown-skinned girl staring at them with a look of utter horror and bewilderment on her face. She leaped into Peter’s arms and hugged him tightly as tears streamed down her face.

“I thought they had taken you,” was all he could mutter as he held her tightly.

“Hey, Abby’s not the only one left,” a young man’s playful voice called as Caleb, Priscilla, and the three little kids walked in.

“Where were you, boys?” Priscilla sounded rather annoyed and happy at the same time.

David and Peter started to tell them everything that had happened. David told Abigail, Caleb, and Priscilla about the phone call he had received that night, whilst Peter often interjected with what had happened to him and Abigail. Their stories left the group with eyes filled with wonderment.

Once both boys had finished their tales, Abigail and Priscilla started bouncing off each other with the tale of how they had escaped.

“We heard the helicopter coming” Priscilla started, glancing over at Abigail for confirmation.

Abigail nodded thoughtfully. “I woke up at about that time. My head certainly hurt, but I heard the aircraft.”

Priscilla continued, “Mom jostled us into the basement with Jonathan, Elizabeth, and Hannah, telling us to take care of them. We found a tunnel that led to the barn and hid out there. We watched while they took Mom and all the adults away.”

Finally, Caleb, who had remained silent all this time, spoke. “They were from the Base.”

His small statement caught the attention of all present as they looked at the young man in astonishment.

“I’ve seen that helicopter before. I was out with my family not long before the earthquake struck and we saw it flying overhead. My father recognized it and said they were from Pine Gap. He would know – he did work there.”

Caleb looked down rather nervously, unsure of how to word what he was going to say next. David placed his hand on the young lad’s shoulder, urging him to continue.

“He muttered something about finding the Elect – he wasn’t really making much sense.”

His words instantly caught Peter’s attention, and he cautiously looked over to Abigail, who returned the gaze with a puzzled expression. David’s eyes were now on his brother, waiting for him to explain what he had told him only moments ago.

“I heard that too,” he finally declared, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He then proceeded to tell them about the vision he had seen whilst he was carrying Abigail back from the mountain.

When he had finished Abigail laid a hand gently on his arm and asked, “What happened after that?”

Peter just sighed. “I woke up on the ground not far from the house, with you beside me. Do you recall anything?”

Abigail looked at the ground and shook her head disappointedly. “The last thing I remember was jumping in front of Dean.”

“Dean!” Priscilla spat out in disgust before looking at Peter curiously. “Speaking of the devil, you never told us how you escaped,” she prompted.

A pang of regret stabbed Peter in the heart as the traumatic events of the previous night flashed before his eyes – the demented look on the would-be killer’s face, the feel of the shotgun in his hands, the echo of the bullet being blasted, the sound of the limp body falling to the ground like a coat from a rack. He could still see Dean’s cold dead expression gazing up at him, mocking him. He could not tell them what he had done. None of them would understand, especially Abigail. She would be horrified at the idea that he had actually killed a man, even if it was in self-defense.

“Peter?”

He suddenly snapped back to reality as Abigail’s concerned voice pierced his thoughts. He realized that everyone was watching him, waiting for an answer.

“I just hit him hard and ran,” he said, forcing a chuckle to shrug off suspicion.

Obviously, this answer was satisfactory, for the issue was dropped. The group then started debating the meaning of recent events and what they were going to do next.

Peter threw in his two cent’s worth here and there but he noticed it. David had that look in his eyes and was staring straight through his younger brother. He knew.

~~~

After long hours of discussion that reached past midnight, it was unanimously agreed that the small group of teens would not just sit around and wait for another welcoming part to attack and abduct them. Instead, they would proceed on to Pine Gap, whereupon they would come up with a plan of attack.

Obviously to Priscilla’s dismay, David and Peter agreed to leave her and Caleb in charge of the children. There was no way they would drag them anywhere nearer this battle.

Unfortunately for Peter, Abigail was just too stubborn to play babysitter. It was not that she didn’t care for the little kids, but she knew that Caleb and Priscilla would be able to keep them safe and hidden. She refused to leave the last person she desperately loved, and she certainly wasn’t going to lose him.

The group of three – David, Peter, and Abigail – started their long trek towards the western MacDonald Ranges several hours before dawn. Being long past nightfall, the howls of dingos could be heard cascading against the cold rocky walls of the mountain range on their right. The utter vastness of the wilderness reflected the utter solitude of the desert. The moon hung its rays down upon the weary travelers while millions of stars twinkled softly in a brilliant display of light.

The silence was broken by Peter’s blunt question, “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” His tone was subtly sarcastic and evidently doubtful of his older brother’s navigational skills.

David shook his head, trying to remain calm and let his brother’s insulting tone wash over him. He did not even bother to look back as he replied, “I know where I’m going.” His voice was sharp but very monotonous and compliant. He did not really want to pick a fight; not tonight, not at all this and especially not with Peter.

David used to be a very respectful young man. On the outside, he had all the appearance of a perfectly behaved robot, with occasional sparks of emotion. But the earthquake had shattered that facade. The loss of loved ones had doused the flame and all that was left was a lamp with no fire, going through the motions. Utterly desolate, he rarely responded to emotional attacks.

To Abigail, the seemingly interminable walk became something of a nightmare. Stumbling over rocks, dirt mounds, and spinifex, it was all she could do not to complain. Although – contrary to her usual talkative self – she had not said much, her mind was racing uncontrollably. Images of Dean still plagued her memory. Sounds of gunfire rang in her ears, and she could not shake the odd feeling that Peter was keeping something from her. And their mysterious arrival back at camp? Could it really have been as bizarre as he made it all out to be?

And what of that bright light? Although she had said she recalled nothing there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach where she hadn't been completely truthful. In fact, she blatantly lied. She did remember something, something that Isaac apparently hadn't experienced. "Remember" was the only word she could remember a familiar but foreign voice that filled her ears in her unconsiousness. And when she had awoken in their homestead, in a moment of privacy she noticed an odd marking on the inside of her right wrist. No one had noticed due to the fact she often wore sleeves over her wrists.

Now she decided to keep it quite, she didn't want to add it to the pile of drama's that had already occurred. Before the earthquake she would have been mouthing off her concerns, complaining about her own life, and would probably have thrown in a few racist remarks about her own ethnicity. She always jested about her own color of skin as a joke to lighten the mood, but after the earthquake, that quirky, fun-loving girl had died and had been quickly replaced by a cold and concealed young woman.

“Are you okay?”

Peter’s soft tone rested in the air as she looked up at him. He was concerned. He could see she was hurt, and he could tell she was thinking. He never really liked it when she shut herself off. What worried him most was when she refused to open up to him and remained a vault. He could understand why – losing her family and everything she once held dear, and now just trying to survive with no hope. Nevertheless, it killed him on the inside to see the girl he loved the most like this. It also frightened him. With only a small handful of people left, he suddenly felt burdened with an obligation to protect everyone; he was weighed down with the responsibility of ensuring their success and it felt too great of a burden to bear. After all, although he might come off as independent, Peter was only just a boy becoming a man, faced with a cold cruel world that expected him to know what to do and act like a grown man.

“I’ll be alright,” Abigail replied, using her classic line as she relinquished her grip on his arm.

“We’re nearing the Base; I can see the lights,” David called over his shoulder, drawing to a halt. Peter and Abigail joined him. They looked their strategist in the eyes, considering their next move. It was already odd that Pine Gap managed to still retain access to electricity but that only added to the suspicion that there was something larger afoot.

“So I guess you plan on just waltzing in there, introducing yourself, and demanding to be told everything that’s going on?” Peter suggested sarcastically, tossing a glance over at his older brother.

“No, I intend to formulate a plan – one that does not involve hot-headedness and rash ideas,” retorted David.

And so the battle began as the two Ward boys continued to contentiously argue, insulting one another and only occasionally proposing ideas of infiltration.

Abigail, on the other hand, tired of their fighting, simply wandered several meters away and lowered herself down onto a rock, staring off at the bright beams of light emanating from behind the next mountain range. With her elbows on her knees and her head slouched in the palm of her hands, she let out a deep heartfelt sigh. She couldn’t help but wonder if any of her family were staring up at the same sky as her.

Suddenly a rustling in the nearby bushes caught her attention. Instantly she was on her feet, peering timidly into the darkness, her hands balled into fists. Images of gunmen, rapists, and grotesquely disfigured criminals flashed through her mind. She looked back to the boys, but their voices had died down and almost became indistinguishable in comparison to the footsteps that were now swiftly approaching. Although fear coursed through her veins she refused to move. She could almost picture herself as a comic book character, waiting to face a long dreaded foe. She wasn’t backing down.

“You’re not listening to me!” David cried, trying not to raise his voice as his hands flew wide open in frustration. “It’s a suicide mission, Peter! Going in there . . . with what? How many more people close to you do you want to get killed?”

That comment hit Peter right between the eyes as his mouth was left agape. He recoiled and calmed himself down, running his hands through his disheveled hair.

David sat on the ground, arms folded, shaking his head. “Face it, bro; we can’t win this one. It’s not like a movie. This is real life, and these are real people’s lives we’re risking.”

Peter sat down beside his brother and placed his hand on David’s shoulders, unable to get the words past his throat. “I know you miss her, David. I know it’s hard.” He could feel himself straining for words as he battled the waves of emotions that were flooding in. “But we can’t sit around arguing when the enemy is out there. I need you . . . on my side.” He shifted his hand off David’s shoulder and looked down embarrassedly. He wasn’t good with words. He was not good at consolation either, but he knew that neither of them could bear this burden alone.

David glanced up with a weak smile on his face as he playfully punched his brother beside him, getting his attention.

“What was that for?” Peter asked.

David just shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he replied, extending a hand of friendship.

“We’re brothers,” Peter said, getting to his feet. He clasped his older brother’s hand to pull him up. “It’s an occupational hazard to want to rip your head off, but I don’t.”

The boys chuckled a little, lightening the mood. Then David became serious again.

“I know what you did.”

Peter’s eyes flared in defense as he looked at David, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Peter, you were protecting both yourself and her. It was done in self-defense.”

He could see David cringe as he said it. His brother was not for killing. He hated murder, but for him to take his younger brother’s side meant the world to Peter.

“They won’t see it that way,” contended Peter. “Abigail won’t. If I tell her, she’ll be terrified of me.”

David just shook his head. “Peter, as long as you know why you do what you do, you are not a monster. And as long as it is you wielding the gun you will be in control.” His tone was grim but Peter took in every word. “Besides, even the Israelites, when threatened by other armies, went to war on God’s instruction, and the Lord gave them victory.”

The boys chuckled before David continued "You also didn't mention you're newly found marking." Peter rolled up his sleeve at the mention of it to ensure that it was still there and wasn't a figment of his imagination.

“Boys!”

Abigail’s voice broke the moment as they both suddenly noticed that she was no longer there. They bolted in the direction of her voice. Peter was just about to frantically call out her name when she came into sight. The sigh of relief that passed through his lips was followed immediately by a gasp as his eyes were drawn to who was standing beside her.