Solutions: A Man's Dilemma - James Gerard (popular books to read .txt) 📗

the question came from a body struggling for life.  

 

“Oh my god!” he cried.

 

Weakness overwhelmed Stephen.  The knees buckled to the ground.  He could not believe what he was seeing, but he knew this was no trick from the lack of clear thoughts.  Nothing was disorienting his thoughts.  It was clear as can be.  He knelt at the edge of the rim staring down at the person who screamed for help but now the body appeared lifeless; just a victim that had succumbed to the devious plans of others.  The plan to save humanity came at the expense of humanity.  He knelt on the edge of the pit witnessing the death by fire in the deep smoldering pit.

 

“How could you,” he shouted.  “You are love.  How can you let this happen?”

 

Stephen jumped to his feet as wrathful and hateful thoughts were let loose.  He cursed God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit.  Every imaginable hateful and hurtful word he could dredge up came spewing out his mouth aimed directly at the God who he had thought of as nothing but mercy and love and compassion.  The only God whom by his purpose, his will, and for his glory, the true God who was the all powerful and protected those he willed to protect seemingly failed on his promises.  The scene before his eyes contradicted everything about his Lord he had come to know.  The wicked murders before his eyes broke his Faith and brought in rejection of the God he had loved.

 

Out of anger Stephen raced to the SUV and sped away.  Disgusted and broken, all hope had vanished.

Grumblings from the Dead

 For a few days Stephen spoke nothing but hatred to God and repeated false accusation after false accusation.  He poured out his soul and heart in vile sentiments.  But eventually, drained of the anger and the hate and the misconceptions and the wrong judgments against his God, Stephen fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably asking for forgiveness, begging for understanding and calling for mercy.

 

The thoughts that had plagued his mind drifted away.  He knew God would not do such a thing since He is the Truth, the Word, everything opposite of the lies that he had witnessed: For he knew what was done came by cold and unmerciful directions of those who believed they knew best how to save humanity.  It was so plainly clear to Stephen that their decisions were void of love and respect and compassion and that the directives did not come from the Almighty himself, but rather from the powers and principalities plaguing the minds of men. 

 

Stephen felt drained in the eerie silence of the regional office.  He lay motionless on a sofa staring at the glow of vacant computer screens.  No phones rang.  No one was scurrying in or out or about the room.  He felt alone in the world, abandoned by the men that called him to duty but left him in the dark.  By faith, however, he knew his God was with him.

 

God was on his mind and that was somewhat of a comfort, but what to do became the dilemma he felt no man should confront.  Isolation weighed heavily on his existence.  He wondered if there was anything he could do to stop the reality of the plan from being carried out elsewhere in the states, but it was far too late to defeat the plans of the men; they had seized control. 

 

Morbid curiosity led Stephen to the computers.  Satellites, the only eyes left to witness the carnage below, came to life.  Staring intently at Las Vegas, the view appeared so empty of any activity or movement at all.  The highways and streets became paths to nowhere.  All the casinos and hotels no longer existed.  Those seeking fortune at the gaming tables were long gone.   Houses in the outlaying areas were no more than abandoned property cluttering up the landscape.

 

He directed one satellite’s eye directly to the plume of smoke now slowly diminishing in its thickness. The mangled mess he had witnessed close up haunted him with thoughts of hidden mangled bodies considered useless in the future construction of a new world.  They were sacrificed for what?  Lying below the decision to urgently act to save humanity was a logic he could not understand but to the power they succumbed to he could not conceive.

 

The question was answered in that which was witnessed.  In saving humanity the selected few, the leaders of the crisis center, had ordered the elimination of those no longer useful to a new world needing the strength of the youth.  A world that would eventually emerge would be a world with less workers and much demand from the survivors.  A world occupied by the young would be better suited to build a new society where the mistakes of the past could be replaced with the visions and mandates of the select few.

 

For Stephen, his job finished, the future of his existence escaped from the dark recesses of his mind.  If he could do anything it would be to spread the truth about the survival plan.  He brought to life the satellite view of Phoenix with a light hope that the elimination process had yet to begin, but the hope was torn to rags as he witnessed the plume of smoke rising from the ashes of the dead.  He was not shocked this time: For the plan was clear.

 

Another satellite view showed the rather peaceful and tranquil scene of Los Angeles.  There was no activity on the highways crossing the area in every direction, and there was sparse activity on the streets below.  There were no signs of scorched landscape or of smoke wandering about in the air.  He knew now that everyone who had been selected to occupy the spaces, the ones which at some point would emerge into a brand new world, had been stowed safely and securely inside the concrete havens.

 

South Florida was abuzz in activity, but why he could only guess.  The activity around the plains and mountains witnessed before had vanished.  He did not bother to bring up a satellite view of San Diego since it was apparent the survival plan was near complete.  All that the select few wanted to accomplish had been or was about to be accomplished.  The satellites now were nothing more than blind eyes hovering above the deception below.

 

The sun was shining bright as it looked down from the bright blue sky.  He looked all about and wondered if anyone would be sent to retrieve him, or more appropriately, to escort him to his appointed elimination site.  Then again, he was good as dead amongst the dead where he stood.

 

But an urgent thought tugged at his heart and compelled him to action.  The SUV waited.  Gas stations pumps stood ready to provide ample amounts of fuel.  He knew the way to Los Angeles.  It was just a matter of time.

 

He looked around and found ample gas canisters for the trip in a shed once used by landscapers of a plush hotel casino.  The first gas station available on exiting the city made available the needed fuel.  With no traffic before him Stephen raced down the highway towards the destination of his choosing.  This time for a long time he was acting independently of others.  This time he was choosing his own path rather than the ones that were given to him with deceptive motives.

 

But as fast as the campaign started, it looked as if it were about to end.  Off to the left side of the highway a helicopter came into sight.  It was on a parallel path synchronized with the rate of speed Stephen was travelling down the deserted highway.

 

He did not know what to do but managed to suppress the panic ready to break out into his thoughts.  With cool calculated thoughts he slammed a foot on the brake pedal and jerked the wheel to the right.  The car skidded and stopped pointing in the direction of the city.  The tires screeched and sent him screaming forward.

 

Stephen kept a diligent lookout for the helicopter.  Rapidly turning his attention back and forth, from the left and the right, from forward and behind vigilance guided the search but the chopper was nowhere in sight.  The car skidded to a stop in the middle of the boulevard.  He looked all around for the hunting bird of prey but it was still nowhere in sight.  He raced to the entrance of the nearest empty shell.

 

He quickly thought of a place to hide, somewhere on the ground level would be the best place for a secluded spot in the event they came searching and a quick getaway was needed.  Panic sent him scurrying about the floor looking for just the right spot.  Finally, with the feeling of time quickly lapsing, he ducked behind the front desk of the main lobby.

 

Hands darted about the slots and drawers of the front counter looking for paper and pen to jot down a firsthand account of what was witnessed.  The writing was scribbled down but legible enough for someone to read and understand the truth as it was seen.

 

While scribbling down the thoughts he kept an ear open for the sound of footsteps, voices, any loud sounds from outside that signaled a search was at hand. He kept writing and writing redundantly as to assure the main facts were recorded.

 

His heart raced at the sound of footsteps in the lobby.  A hand covered the mouth to block the sound of fear and anxiety that might spontaneously leak out under the stress.  The footsteps became louder and louder.  He knew they were coming right for him. He figured they had embedded some sort of tracking device somewhere about his body to have already known his exact location in the empty shell.

 

“Stephen,” a familiar voice called out.

 

He remained silent afraid to respond.  Maybe they were just probing, guessing, hoping that he would just give up and save them the time and trouble of having to search the entire building.  He was hoping for just that so he could scurry to yet another building and elude a capture.

 

“Come on Stephen,” a voice prompted in a calm tone.  “You want to be dragged out from behind the desk or do you just want to walk out on your own?”

 

Stephen stood up and saw Robert standing a few feet away with a team of armed men.

 

“I know Robert,” he calmly stated.  “I know the truth now.”

 

“I suppose you do Stephen.  Unfortunately that’s bad news for you.”

 

Stephen put up no resistance as two armed men led him from behind the desk.  The written testimony was left behind atop the front counter. He glanced at it and realized its testimony would erode over time as the wind and sand would continually pummel the empty building; no one would ever know the truth.

 

Now it was just a matter of his execution.  He was now the victim at the wicked discretion of the predators.