The following is an excerpt from the beginning of the book. To read the full novel, visit this page here.
When the dust had
settled and everyone had been accounted for, our Organization began providing
us with the details we needed to take our first steps into the New World.
Atlanta, the city I had lived in during
the decade leading up to Armageddon, was mostly ruins. What hadn’t burned to
the ground was hardly fit to live in; and besides, no one was eager to stay in
a crumbling city that reeked of death and decay. The suburbs that rubbed
shoulders with the city hub, on the other hand, were mostly in livable
condition, and many of our friends ‘upgraded’ to these areas, usually moving in
with groups (and in some cases whole congregations) of other Witnesses.
The passing of the Old World, however,
brought a sense of adventure for those who weren’t ready to settle, including
many who’d previously been in full time service. Theirs was the idea that The
world was so big and so full of possibility, and Why the rush to
settle? After all, the Organization had put out a call for volunteers who
were willing to travel.
For a guy like me, who had always wanted
to be a part of the action (but was too busy), this was the perfect
opportunity. I had no sales quota to fret over, no family responsibilities, no
mortgage on a house I could barely pay for. I was ready to go. The Resurrection
was decades off, we’d been told, and I wanted some sort of legacy to pass on to
my family when I saw them again.
So I grabbed my old hiking backpack
from what remained of our attic, stuffed it with a few essentials, and headed
to the local recruiting area, a sprawling Wal-Mart parking lot not far from my
neighborhood. There were still a dozen or so parked cars in various spaces.
Cars from before the Great Day. Cars that would never be driven again.
At the far end of the parking lot, next
to the Home & Gardening sign, a small throng of volunteers had
gathered. Many had already helped themselves to folding cots and camping chairs
from inside the store and were sitting in the shade of the carport, waiting. A
folding table had been set up in the entrance to the store, with several brothers
working busily behind it.
At exactly 10 o’clock, one of the
brothers, whom I recognized from a nearby congregation, stood up with a
bullhorn.
“Brothers and sisters, could we please
have you attention. In the next few minutes we’ll be going over a few items and
if you could all gather around we can answer your questions and get you all
signed up.” The bullhorn clicked off and the friends shuffled towards the
table.
A few minutes passed. There were over a
hundred of us there waiting in a knot of anticipation.
“Ok, first of all, congratulations. You
have all made it through the Great Tribulation, meaning that you are the Great
Crowd. We all had to face a lot to be here today, and the brothers want to
express how happy we are to see all of your faces.”
A thunderous round of cheering and
applause shot through the crowd. It was a kind of release, making all that
noise, a way to express the many emotions that had been roiling inside us.
Excitement. Relief. Joy. Trepidation?
“Of course, Jehovah has given us work
to do, and through his Organization, he’s directing that work one step at a
time. Now, it’s still very early, so we don’t have all the details; however, we
do know that the Organization has formed several new Regional Committees to
spearhead the cleanup work. You probably all heard about this through the
letter that was read in your congregation meeting two weeks ago, but just as a
refresher, we now have a Regional Salvaging Committee, a Regional Demolition
Committee, and a Regional Transit Committee.
“The RSC is in charge of collecting as
many usable goods as possible from homes, stores, shopping malls, warehouses,
and so forth. These goods will be catalogued and stored for everyone’s use
until we can get production underway for our own goods. The RDC will be in
charge of the heavy cleanup, meaning wrecking balls, bulldozers, and
explosives...” A few chuckles of approval rippled through the crowd around me.
“The RTC will be in charge of communications and shipping logistics, meaning
lots of travel between cities carrying goods and mail and so on.”
”Now, we don’t know how long each of
these crews will be out there, and we’re only asking for as much as you’re
willing to give. If you want to volunteer for a year, five years, ten, it’s
completely up to you. Of course, if you decide not to sign up, you’ll be
involved in more or less the same work anyway, but it’ll be a little less
specialized, more local cleanup. The RC’s are going to be on the move
constantly. If you stick with one of the crews, there’s a good chance you’ll
get to travel to other cities and possibly, down the line, even other
countries.“ There was a nudge on the brother’s shoulder and he pulled back for
a moment while someone whispered in his ear.
”Oh, sorry, not countries. Other regions,“
the brother said with a smirk. ”Any questions?“
Several dozen hands poked up above the
sea of heads.
”Can families sign up?“ Asked a brother
who held a small child in his arms.
”The direction from the branch is that
‘mature young ones who are capable of strenuous physical labor’ are welcome to
join with their families. If a child is eighteen or older, he can join
independent of his parents. If it’s a young child, though, it’s probably best
to wait until the child is a little older. Like I said, there will be plenty of
local work to do...“
The brother with the child nodded and
withdrew quietly from the crowd. I heard his son say, ”Daddy, are we going home
now?“ as they walked away.
”Any age restrictions for the elderly?“
Asked a white haired sister in jeans and work boots. Her hands were on her hips
and she had a serious look.
”Nothing here about that. We’re all
getting younger, after all.“ The sister nodded, satisfied.
”What about tools? My house is gone, I
have nothing,“ said another voice.
”Not a problem. Tools will be provided
by the committees you are assigned to. All you need is a couple changes of
clothes. Anyone else?“
”Any word yet on the Resurrection?“ It
was an elderly brother. He was wringing a baseball cap in his knobby hands.
”I’m sorry, brother, but we have no
information on that yet.“
The questions were endless, but if
anyone was feeling impatient, they didn’t show it. Rather, the crowd seemed to
be paying rapt attention, not wanting to miss a detail. Finally, the brother with
the bullhorn said, ”All right, if you’ll now please line up and fill out some
papers, we can get you assigned.“
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