Fiction - Week 19 - A Fiasco in the Restaurant.

All the characters in this story are fictitious and bear no resemblance to any person, living or dead.

A story based on Biblical truth.

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At a police station in Central London, the officers stood in fear around the lounge table. Clive, the officer who at first laughed at Robert Jones' autism from the cell viewing slot, then suffered a horrible taste in his mouth after turning on the tap, spoke up.

The water tasted ghastly, and its toxicity is certainly fatal. How could a meteorite that struck the Euphrates, thousands of miles away, affect our supplies so effectively?

I think it could be supernatural. Ted replied. There is no physical connection between a river in the Middle East and here in Britain, not to mention the English Channel in between. Yet, our supplies are affected.

Supernatural? Hah! Bill exclaimed, banging his fist on the table. If old Cali hears you talking like that, he'll have us all thrown into the fiery furnace! 

We are all doomed! Ted replied. With no drinkable freshwater available, we can't drink, cook, or wash ourselves. Its only use is to flush the toilet.

I have an idea. Clive chipped in. Why not go out and buy some bottled water? After all. A bottle is a sealed container. How could the contamination affect them?

You're the one with the brains! Bill responded. Anyone up for it?

Clive and Ted left the lounge and exited the station with a couple of sacks. Along the street, they saw a grocery store which was still in business despite the street being thin on traffic and pedestrians. However, they saw nobody inside. But as they approached the scanner at the door, it read the tiny chips each officer had, and the barriers opened.

The two officers rummaged through the shelves, and on one of them was some bottled water. Clive then entered the storage room at the back of the shop. There were several crates of bottled water and some unspoilt food. The two police officers disregarded the law and began to fill their sacks. Then they took a crate of water and hauled everything back to the station. They wondered where the shop owner was. Unknown to them, upstairs in the living room, a lifeless body lay on the sofa. A glass half full of water stood nearby, and flies began to buzz around his forehead, which bore the Clover Leaf mark.

The officers found some bottled water.

We brought back some stuff! Ted announced. Not only to feed us but the prisoners too.

Stuff the prisoners! Bill exclaimed. Why feed them and let ourselves go hungry? I tell you what. The bottled water. Pour out a cup and make them drink. If any drop dead, at least we don't have to execute them.

A great idea. Clive replied. Why not start at cell 8? That arrogant student and his black girlfriend. I'd love to hear her squeal! Are there four in that cell?

No, just three. It was from that cell we killed our first victim. Clive answered.

A bottle was removed from the crate, and three glasses were filled. Then they went to Cell 8 and offered a glass of water to each of us.

Drink! And that's an order! Bill commanded.

As we looked and hesitated, Bill shouted all the louder. DRINK!

We all sipped. Then the sipping turned into full drinking. The water's fine. I said.

Bill and Clive left, but Ted remained behind. Of all the officers, Ted was the least hostile to the prisoners and more inquisitive.

Why do you think all the water from the main supply is toxic while the bottled water remains unaffected? After all, the meteorite struck the Euphrates, thousands of miles away. We are an island nation separated from the Continent. Oddly, our supplies are toxic, but these bottles are drinkable.

Peter answered, I believe that every dark cloud has a silver lining. God in Heaven is now judging this planet, yet amidst the devastation, there is a hint of his mercy. As Peter wrote in his letter, the Lord is patient, not willing that anyone perish, but that all should come to repentance. Hence, God has allowed some water to remain sweet, so your lives are spared.

Repentance. Ted repeated the word. Does that mean feeling sorry for sin or turning from sin to be saved?

No. Peter answered. Repentance in this context means to change your mind from honouring Caligula to believing in Jesus Christ, his Death, Burial, and his Resurrection on the third day after his crucifixion, for your salvation. During these days of tribulation, God is still offering mercy between his judgments.

TED! Bill's voice echoed through the corridor.

The officer lowered his voice and said, I will pretend I never heard that. If my mates find out that I have been concurring with you, I'll be in big trouble, possibly costing my life. I must go.

                                                                 12.

Waterloo Station is not only the terminus of the lines serving the southwest region of England, but a hub of several lines. Waterloo East is a through station on the Southeast main line out of Charing Cross terminus on the North Bank, and it serves mainly Kent. On the Underground, three lines pass through: the Northern, Bakerloo, and Jubilee lines, all linking the South Bank areas to the central city, north of the Thames. 

But since the recent disaster in our oceans and on our freshwater supplies, all the trains have stopped running. With no drinkable water, many are suffering from hunger and thirst, while others have died after swallowing a mouthful of toxic water. Lately, London has become infested with looters who, at first, ignored the plentiful supply of bottled water, believing it could be fatal if consumed.

I, George Bolton, will continue to narrate about my old college mate, Phil Banks, who is now stranded in London. He has taken refuge deep underground on the Northern Line platform. Here, he wasn't alone. He saw others who had the same idea. He also saw that these people weren't followers of Gaius Caligula. None of them bore the Mark, and all spoke of their faith in Jesus Christ. Stacked along the platform were crates of bottled water and food. How they managed to get these supplies down here is anyone's guess.

Phil found refuge at Waterloo Underground station.

But Phil's loyalty to Caligula has waned. The main contributor to his change of mind was Emily, whom he knew was imprisoned with Peter, George, and (as he thought), Robert in a holding cell at an undisclosed police station somewhere in London. While he lived with the group in Egham, Emily showed him a motherly love nobody in his own family ever showed. He knew that she was grieving over her lost son, Richard. In place of her son, her affection was poured out on him, a student of Politics at Royal Holloway, whose childhood was a victim of bullying from a relative, his mother's brother, who was an icon of religious hypocrisy and sadism. Contrary to his own belief, his loyalty to Caligula was more of a kick in his uncle's teeth than any real political conviction.

A young man, about Phil's age, sat with a cooking pot heated by a camping stove in front of him. As Phil approached, he looked up and invited Phil to join him.

My name is Tom. He said. Tom Lawrence. I'm from the University of London. I was staying at my apartment until an earthquake hit London some time ago. Our apartment building was damaged, and I believe it's now condemned. Homeless, I settled here.

Phil asked, What has happened to you? Do you have the Mark?

Can you see any mark on me? Tom asked.

Er, no. Phil answered, looking at his hand and his forehead.

Phil flushed as he felt his own hand itch under the glove. He had found a new friend, and he no longer wanted to hide under deception. He wanted to test to make sure.

Tom, please don't be offended, but I was a sworn atheist, and I really thought that Cali would bring world peace. He was assassinated in Rome, and after he regained his life, we all wondered about him. I really thought that he would bring peace and prosperity. So far, he has failed, and failed badly. I accepted his mark. I am now regretting making that mistake.

Phil peeled off his glove from his right hand and showed the Clover Leaf tattoo. He felt it itching, and he started to scratch. Suddenly, something came out of his skin in the middle, and he subconsciously flicked it away. The wound began to bleed.

Phil realised that the tiny microchip had surfaced. As he swiped it away, it flew across the platform and onto the railway tracks below, and he lost it forever.

That was the microchip! Phil exclaimed. It's gone. Gone forever. Everyone who receives the Mark remains condemned. But I have felt deluded by Cali's string of failures, and I don't feel loyal to him anymore. Tom! Is there any hope I could still be reconciled to God after everything I have done?

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To be Continued.