The Mark

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

"Exactly. No mark, no chip. No chip, no money. No money, no food, gas, or utilities. So... I am curious." Durbin made his way back to his empty chair and stood in front of it. "You men are leaders in your respective churches, and Thomas, you're a good friend. I have visited most of your places of worship and I have noticed that your congregations are following your lead on this. Much of Creston is marked up and ready to go. I would love to hear what you all have planned, because in eighteen days, you are all going to find your selves in a real bind."

Durbin added just enough sincerity to his tone that he was pretty sure the men were not completely offended by his words. Then he sat and waited for an answer.

"We've been telling our congregants to stock up on supplies." Rabbi Stone gave the first answer, and a few of the other men nodded

as if that was their plan as well. "Hmmm, supplies. Do you mean food?"

"Yes," Stone answered.

"And gas? What about gas?"

Stone sat quietly.

"How long will your people live on these supplies? A week? A month? A year? Five years? That would be quite a supply closet."

Reverend Blackmore cleared his throat. "Mayor Durbin, may I remind you of our meeting the night Hitler revealed himself. The religious community voiced our concerns of aligning with this man. That night you told us you would try to work out something for us, so that those of us with religious objections could still function. What have you provided for us, may I ask?"

Durbin leaned forward and rested on his forearms, fingers clasped in front of him. "The world has completely changed since that night, Reverend. Some things are no longer negotiable here in America. In the past, religious objections protected you from certain things, like vaccinations or even attending public schools. But this is not some thing you can avoid. No mark, no ability to function."

A pastor next to Blackmore spoke up. "We believe what we are seeing in the world is of prophetic significance. We believe it is a pre cursor to the return of Jesus Christ. So, our congregants are gather ing supplies that will last until His return."

"And when exactly will that happen?" Durbin asked out of sheer curiosity.

"Well... probably sooner than later... I guess. But being a proph ecy, we can't... exactly be sure of the day... but still, it shouldn't be longer than, say... umm... a few months or so... maybe a year or two..." The pastor was drowning at the table and Durbin was amazed that no life preservers were being tossed his way.

Thomas finally spoke. "Wayne, you know we're in a bind."

"So am I," Durbin shot back, not willing to go into the end of the world discussion he and Thomas had already had half a dozen times. "I know you all are devout believers, but you're missing the point here, We are talking about life and death. And it's not just you that this af. fects. You all have children and you all have congregations." Durbin stood again. As a small man, he found that when he needed to drive home a point, standing was usually more effective. "Let me make myself clear. In two weeks, buses are coming into town and if you don't have a mark on your head, you will be ushered onto the buses and taken away. Your wives will be taken to a women's facility with your children who eventually will be separated from their mothers. You will all sit in class, day after day, being educated in the benefits of joining the system. But it won't go on forever. A day will come where if you don't take the mark, you will not be allowed to return."

"Exterminated, you mean." Thomas's voice shot across the table. "It's your choice." He ignored Thomas's comment, sat again, then softened his tone. "Someone explain this to me. All you have to do is put a little number on your head and you get a chip. Now life returns to normal and no wait, it's better than normal because now you have afforded your children a future and an education. Your obedi ence has just afforded more jobs in our town and more jobs equate to a better economy. You can travel all over the world, you have a per sonal accountant who will balance your checkbook at the touch of a button. But for some reason you all think you'll burn in hell if you take it. You're willing to give up your homes and families because of it. I just don't get it. I really don't." Durbin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

The men looked around at each other. The silence in the room spoke volumes, as Durbin assumed that his point was finally sinking in.

"What about the idol? Are you saying we don't need an idol in our homes?" asked the priest.

"As far as I know, there's no 'idol police.' Do what you want in your homes, just get a number so that you can access your bank ac counts, feed your families, and get on with your lives."

Thomas leaned forward. "So we don't need idols. That's what you're saying?"

"What's the big deal with the idols? I have a picture of Hitler on my fridge. I don't pray to it or worship it, but it does remind me that the sooner my town gets marked up, the sooner I can access funds to update and improve our town. And you people are keeping Creston from receiving what we need because you won't mark up and tell your congregations to follow suit."

Silence again.

"Listen, guys," Durbin continued, "this really isn't a discussion. There's nothing to be negotiated. I just want you all to know what is right around the corner for you all. I would think being God-fear ing men that you would want your congregations to provide for their families. Isn't being responsible pleasing to God?"

Pastor Richwell stood and excused himself. "Thank you for the information. I need to get going, however." He walked away from the table and Durbin called out to him.

"Eighteen days and the decision will be made for you. Consider yourself warned."

The meeting was over. The message was clearly given and there was no need for further clarification. One by one the men stood and left the room. Durbin sat with a disgusted look on his face. Thomas also stayed at the table. Once the room was empty, Thomas spoke.

"I told you not to take the mark. You're going to hell now, but I'm not following you there."

"What about Robin? Do you want to see her in an orange jump suit? She's probably smart enough to get the mark for herself and the girls once she gets away from you."

Thomas stood. "You're just being nasty, now."

"But I'm the one going to hell." Durbin raised his eyebrow and clearly made his point. "Wayne, our allegiance is with Jesus Christ and He warned us

about this time. We're not marking up and we may just disappear."

"There's nowhere to run, friend," Durbin said, as Thomas walked to the door alone. "A day is coming where you'll stick out like a sore thumb without a mark and everyone will consider you the enemy. They'll shoot to kill out there. At least here we'll take you, feed you, train you, and put you back in your homes. Outside of Indiana, you'll be on your own."

"We'll never take the mark."

"Our training camps have a way of being pretty persuasive."

"It won't matter."

"And you think your little girls will feel the same way?" Thomas stopped in the doorway and turned back to Durbin.

"What has happened to you? How can a system be good if it will kill to have its own way?"

"For centuries man has killed for the good of society. We've done it here in America, too. Take the Civil War, for example. We were will ing to kill our own citizens for the rights of slaves. In the end, it was a much better place to live. Once this time of adjustment is over, this world will be a much better place for all."

"Nothing is going to get better. It's only going to get worse, Wayne. Famine will become more severe and life is going to become nearly impossible to manage. Mark my words."

Thomas slammed the door behind him and Durbin sat alone in the conference room at Creston City Hall.

Thomas had been such a big help to him during the campaign. A true friend and supporter. Even when he expressed anger, Durbin still liked Thomas. He took a pen from his shirt pocket and jotted a note to himself. By next week he would finish his outline for the sys tematic identification of nonmarkers. Thomas lived on the west side of town, so to buy his friend some time, Durbin decided to start the inventory on the east side of town and work his way west. The plan was to send law enforcement workers with last year's

census data to interview each household. Initially, a record of those with jobs in a given household would be taken-marked versus un marked. Obviously, the unmarked would no longer receive income, so logically, all employed residents would have to be marked. Any unmarked resident who held a job would be taken into custody. After a short stay in the county jail, they would be offered a free-of-charge marking service. If they still refused, they would be loaded onto a state bus and taken to the nearest training camp, which was about an hour southeast of Creston. Any other members of a household who were unmarked would be noted for a later round of arrests. Initially, the shock of a father being taken from a home, or a mother for that matter, should solve the issue of other law-breaking activity in any given household.

Durbin knew the plan wasn't perfect, but he had no choice. He had to get his citizens marked. Period. Once marked, the financial floodgates opened and his town would become a city. Or maybe a metropolis. And who knows, if a citizen or two slipped through the system, how would the FWP find out anyways? He'd do the best he could, show a respectable effort, and move on with life.

Durbin walked over to the sideboard and eyed the untouched Everyone loves Starbuck muffins. You'd have to be crazy not to

muffins.

take one of these babies.

He picked up a sugar-encrusted blueberry muffin and lifted it to his nose. He took a deep whiff and let the fresh-baked aroma fill his nostrils.

This should be my insanity test. Have a plate of muffins sit out and when I meet with someone, offer them a muffin. If they refuse, I'll know I'm dealing with a lunatic.

Durbin pulled the paper away from the side of the muffin and took a bite. Crumbs fell on his chest and he brushed them away. He had about an hour before his meeting with the bronze caster. The life-sized statue of Hitler was complete and the caster was personally delivering it to City Hall that afternoon. Durbin had a stone pedestal made to hold the statue, and it would be placed in the center of the town, in Memorial Park. For decades the city council argued about who to commemorate in bronze for that park, and in a matter of mere minutes, he was able to convince them of the necessity of agreeing on the Hitler statue. It was definitely not permanent, and if the FWP did not come through with their promises, it could be replaced. But in order to access financial help for its citizens, Creston would have to prove compliance with Hitler's demands. Thus the statue. Eight "ayes" and one abstention, and it was done.