The Unveiling, page 7
part #3 of Chaos Series
Thanks to Salvador Romanero, nearly a half-million people who’d converged on Ann Arbor, to participate in the vigil, had to be turned away. There simply wasn’t enough space for everyone.
In order to make room for those fortunate enough to get inside the college town, stadium gates were opened hours before the vigil even began, to help absorb the onslaught of participants.
This caused an immediate outcry from those whose loved ones’ dead corpses still lay on the frozen turf waiting to be collected for burial. Friends and relatives of the deceased were assured that no one would be allowed anywhere near the bodies.
Massive blue tarps covered the body bags, just in case.
This provided little comfort. Nothing more.
Knowing what lay beneath the massive blue tarps, many inside Michigan Stadium did their best to simply ignore them. Their eyes remained glued on the huge jumbo-tron screen. Seeing 200,000 of their fellow survivors form a thick wall around the stadium was the most amazing sensation. It’s like they were being given a massive group hug. They bathed in it.
With so many signs being held—inside the stadium and out—every single one of them thanking Romanero for orchestrating this world-healing moment, it looked more like a Michigan tailgate party or a political campaign rally than a vigil.
Is he the Antichrist? When Mulrooney woke this morning, after brewing a pot of coffee and throwing some waffles in the toaster, he fingered through the New Testament and stumbled upon a sub title found in 2 Thessalonians, chapter 2: The Man of Lawlessness. Just as he was reading it, Romanero’s image appeared on his TV screen. Could it be?
Brian was intrigued and wanted to keep reading. Then Renate arrived, and he quickly closed the Bible. Up until then, the airwaves were flooded with religious leaders from all faiths and denominations, voicing various opinions while defending the faith groups they represented.
Suddenly their faces were replaced by this rising superstar from Spain. Romanero’s face was literally seen on every channel. Brian and Renate watched everything unfolding in Brussels and were dumbfounded.
Who is this man? They both wondered.
With Renate gone, Mulrooney opened his Bible to 2 Thessalonians, chapter 2, and reread verses 3-12. His eyes shifted from the TV screen to the Bible in his hands. 3 Let no one deceive you in any way. For that day will not come, unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of destruction, 4 who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God. 5 Do you not remember that when I was still with you I told you these things? 6 And you know what is restraining him now so that he may be revealed in his time. 7 For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work. Only he who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way. 8 And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will kill with the breath of his mouth and bring to nothing by the appearance of his coming. 9 The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan with all power and false signs and wonders, 10 and with all wicked deception for those who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. 11 Therefore God sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe what is false, 12 in order that all may be condemned who did not believe the truth but had pleasure in unrighteousness.
Is this man somehow connected to these verses? Mulrooney did not know.
A lump rose in his throat when a reporter on TV interviewed a man whose sister’s body was hidden under a blue tarp on the football field. “Couldn’t they have at least moved the bodies first?” he cried, brushing tears from his eyes. He was holding a photograph of his deceased sister in his hand. “What about respect for the dead? This is totally tasteless.”
“I can only imagine how you must feel,” said the reporter, thoughtfully.
I hope Jacquelyn’s not watching. One way to find out! Brian called her.
“Hi, Brian. Are you at Michigan Stadium?”
“No. Renate went, but I had no interest in joining her. Anyway, sorry for calling so late. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Good as can be expected. Why didn’t you go with her?”
“I’m in no hurry to go back to that place.”
“Likewise. Wish they hadn’t opened the stadium to the public,” Jacquelyn said softly. “Tom’s body’s still there...” She wanted to say more, but no words came out.
Not knowing what to say, Brian changed the subject, “I just got off the phone with an Amtrak ticket agent. After two hours of waiting and pleading, I was finally able to exchange my plane ticket for a train ticket to New York. I leave in the morning. Could’ve taken a train out of Ann Arbor, but had I done that, I’d have to travel west to Chicago first, only to head back east again.”
Brian knew he was babbling, but the goal was to get Jacquelyn’s mind off Michigan Stadium. He went on, “I’m taking a bus to Toledo instead, then catching the eastbound train to Pittsburgh, before connecting to New York. This’ll save me five-hundred miles of traveling.”
“I see.” Jacquelyn knew what he was doing. She appreciated it.
Oddly enough, this inconvenience had nothing to do with what happened last Saturday. When the aviation industry flourished in the mid-1900s, traveling by train suddenly seemed old-fashioned, outdated, second-class travel at best.
As a result, demand for locomotive service slowly plummeted, and any and all plans of laying new tracks and creating new train routes were shelved. At that time, the switch from railroad to aviation travel was one of the greatest paradigm shifts the world had ever known.
“Be safe traveling tomorrow, Brian.”
“Thanks.” Brian rubbed his chin trying to think of what to say next. “What do you think about this Salvador Romanero fellow?”
Jacquelyn replied, “Handsome or not, he gives me the creeps.”
“Yeah, something about him just isn’t right. I mean, a thirty-year-old suddenly thrust onto the world stage practically overnight? Apparently, he even predicts the weather. So far, no rain or snow has fallen anywhere in the world, just as he promised, at least not during the vigil.”
It was time to level with Jacquelyn, “Just before calling you, I read in the Bible about the coming of a lawless one who will be empowered by Satan to create false signs and wonders. Could Romanero be the one?”
“Can’t help you there, sorry,” Jacquelyn said. “Too many other things on my mind.”
Just as Brian was about to say something, he heard the key unlocking the front door. He panicked. “Renate’s here. I gotta go. I’ll call you on the train tomorrow.”
Brian ended the call and hid the Bible he was reading under the cushion he was seated on.
“Hi, honey,” Renate McCallister said, closing the door behind her. There was a certain energy in her voice that wasn’t there earlier.
Brian looked at his cell phone screen. It was 1:45 a.m. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon with all those people there,” he said, un-muting the TV. “Were you able to get inside the stadium?”
Renate kissed Brian on the cheek. Her nose and cheeks felt icy cold on his skin. “It took a lot of pushing and shoving, but yes. It was incredible seeing everyone circling the stadium holding hands. Only reason we left is because Megan could no longer take the cold. But Rachel and I are going back to watch the sun rise with many others. She went home to grab a few blankets. She should be back in a few minutes.”
Renate paused when Brian gave her a sideways look. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”
“No. Go enjoy yourself.”
Hmm, Renate thought. Without even a protest. Where’s the jealous man I fell in love with five years ago? She had to remind herself that Brian still wasn’t right. “I feel so at peace right now. Going there was like having a religious experience or something. Wish you would’ve joined us. Might have done you some good.”
Brian ignored her ranting, “See anyone you know?”
Renate shrugged her shoulders, “Just some distant friends. Oh, and Steve the bartender from Chili’s was there with his girlfriend. Both were stoned, but at least they’re still alive. Steve’s girlfriend held up a sign begging Salvador Romanero to be our next President. She was even interviewed on TV.”
“What do you think of him?” asked Brian.
“Who, Romanero?”
Brian nodded yes.
“What can I say? He’s amazing! If he ran for President, I’d vote for him in a heartbeat. Who else could have brought everyone together like this? He’s doing so much good in the world. And to think he’s our age. I find him fascinating.”
“I don’t know what to make of the man. Personally, he sends chills up my spine.”
Renate saw the concern on her boyfriend’s face. “Really? In what way?”
“I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something about him just isn’t right.”
Renate winced. Her brow furrowed. You can’t be serious!”
“I am.”
Wait till Rachel hears this, Renate thought. Part of her wanted to defend this charismatic man from Spain she knew nothing about, but already felt incredibly connected to. But knowing Brian still wasn’t right, she saw no need to ruffle his feathers any more.
Once he came back to his senses, he would see for himself just how incredible Salvador Romanero really was. Surely, he would be the next Nobel Peace Prize recipient.
It was time to change the topic. “Did you get a reservation?”
Brian half-smiled. “Yes, thank God. I leave in the morning. Since you’ll be awake anyway, could you swing by in the morning and take me to the station?”
“Of course, honey. I’m really gonna miss you.” There was sadness on Renate’s face, but beneath it was an elation she couldn’t suppress. At least Jacquelyn Swindell won’t be in New York! “Can I help you pack your things?”
“Sure, if you want.”
Twenty minutes later, as they were still packing, Renate’s cell phone buzzed. It was a text message from Rachel Stein: I’m outside. Renate replied: OK.
“Rachel’s outside. Gotta go, honey. See you in the morning.”
“Be careful out there. And stay warm.”
“I will. One thing I won’t need is an umbrella, right?”
“Right,” Brian said, with a sigh. If Renate only knew the thoughts swimming in his head about this Salvador Romanero fellow, she might leave him and never return.
At any rate, Brian was anxious to leave Michigan. For someone who hated driving more than two hours at a time, he looked forward to a long train ride. A ten-hour trip would give him time to think things through and perhaps read the Bible without his girlfriend monitoring his every move.
Renate saw her boyfriend’s posture change and knew he was a million miles away again. She wanted to comfort him but was in too much of a hurry. She kissed her boyfriend and left.
As soon as they pulled away Brian called Jacquelyn Swindell.
The bereaved woman was holding her cell phone in her hand when it rang. With visions of her encounter with Renate still fresh in her mind, she let it go to voice mail. This was the last thing she needed. Jacquelyn put the phone on the night stand next to her bed, rolled onto her side and cried herself to sleep. Again...
Brian left a voice message, “Hi, Jacquelyn. It’s Brian Mulrooney again. I know this will be a difficult night for you. But just know I’m only a phone call away if you need me. So please don’t hesitate. Bye for now.”
Mulrooney climbed into bed. It was late, and he had to wake early for his trip. But he left his phone on just in case Jacquelyn decided to call him.
She never did.
12
WEDNESDAY…THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING
AS PER PRESIDENT JEFFERSON Danforth’s strict orders, and to the chagrin of so many regulators, after receiving confirmation from Secretary of Transportation Joel Weintraub that everything was set to go—at least as passable as they could make it—travel commenced as scheduled.
Prior to the Phenomenon, America had become a nation full of rules and regulations. So much so that it nearly paralyzed most small business owners from conducting business on a day-to-day basis.
Regulators were trained to look for one thing: what was wrong. And much like attorneys, whenever they spoke, whether or not you liked what they had to say mattered not; you usually got billed.
Except they didn’t call it a bill like attorneys did. They called it a fine. It had gotten so bad that if small business owners were fortunate to show a small profit at the end of the year, it was a minor miracle.
In normal times, there was no way any bureaucratic regulator would allow an airplane to take off under such dicey conditions. It would be unthinkable. But they were barred from showing up today, clipboards in hand, red flags flying and whistles blowing, looking for something petty to complain about.
President Danforth gave the green light for travel to commence and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Work crews toiled around the clock the past few days removing airplane debris off the nation’s many tarmacs and runways and repairing heavily damaged runways to the best of their ability to make travel possible. Damages sustained inside terminals weren’t considered top priorities at this time, only runways were. Workers were told to focus on one runway at a time at each major airport.
Ten-percent of all commercial aircraft diverted to various American cities last Saturday were flown back to their original destinations and made ready for flight.
Railroad work crews labored just as hard all week clearing tree limbs and downed wires from thousands of miles of tracks. To ensure overall safety, every inch of track to be used was first inspected—via test cars—to make sure they were safe for travel. Everything seemed fine on all operational routes.
With only a skeleton workforce in place, only 20 percent of the world’s airports, train stations and bus depots would be operational. Many transportation hubs suffered too much damage and would remain closed indefinitely. Some would never reopen.
Even so, this was a big step in the right direction to jump-starting the presently, completely paralyzed, transportation industry.
In America, the day before Thanksgiving was always one of the busiest travel days of the year. But not this year. Those who didn’t have to leave their homes were urged to remain there. The overwhelming majority had no problem obeying that order. Some were still too afraid to look outside their windows let alone go outside.
The National Transportation Safety Bureau (NTSB) urged all passengers traveling to arrive at airports, train stations and bus terminals at least three hours before departure time. Those flying were advised to bypass all main terminals and follow the signs to designated areas at each airport, luggage in hand. From there, they’d be screened and checked-in by airline employees, then bused directly to the runway so they could board their planes.
With so few planes in the sky and limited passenger loads—planes were 30 percent full on average—flight arrivals were expected to improve considerably, some by nearly half the time it took prior to the disappearances.
Before last Saturday, the demand for flying was such that more planes were being built to accommodate the added flights being booked solid with passengers. The problem was they didn’t build enough new runways to support such exponential growth.
The end result was that runways had become so overcrowded with airplanes. Gridlock had become the order of the day worldwide. Flight delays had reached epidemic proportions. What normally took two hours had gotten to the point that it nearly took four.
That all changed last weekend.
Secretary of Transportation, Joel Weintraub, sternly warned American travelers that under such adverse conditions, they could be putting their lives at risk.
“In short,” Weintraub warned, “if you want to travel today, it’s entirely up to you. But you’re on your own. Completely.”
The first flight to take off on American soil was American Airlines flight #1185. It left Washington’s Ronald Reagan National Airport at 6:00 a.m. without a glitch, en route to Dallas, Texas.
The plane was approximately 50 percent full, mostly with Washington bureaucrats. The President had suggested this to help rebuild confidence in air travel again.
Much like all other scheduled departures, flight #1185 was loaded with as many coffins as the underbelly of the plane would allow. The same would be true with train and ship transportation. Hearses were lined up one after another outside airport terminals, train stations, shipping docks and warehouses to collect the dead.
But the majority of coffins and body bags would be delivered in the backs of refrigerated 18-wheeler trucks in the coming days. Thousands of freight truck drivers that had been grounded all week would crisscross the nation transporting dead bodies back to their home cities for burial.
Until now, they were piled high atop one another in morgues, hospitals, and inside commercial-sized walk-in freezers.
Throughout history, the only other time scores of dead bodies were buried within days of each other was during wartime, the aftereffects of a natural disaster, mass starvation, widespread disease (the Smallpox outbreak and the Spanish flu virus of 1918-19 combined, claimed nearly 100,000,000 lives), or when evil was permitted to flourish in the hearts of diabolical dictators: Stalin, Lenin, Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, Pol Pot and Idi Amin, Kim Il-jung, topping the list of relatively recent blood-thirsty dictators.
