Rise of the Faithful

By D. S. Edwards

When America is attacked by an ancient enemy, society is left in ruins. The once great cities filled with entertainment, art, and every desire of man are turned into devastated neighborhoods ruled by the gangs that once roamed their ghetto streets. Soon, the gang's resources begin to run dry. With no knowledge of how to produce food, obtain water, or live independently, they begin raiding the countryside to take from those who do.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9780991032358

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CHAPTER 1

Amish Country

Lancaster County, Pennsylvania

2:00 P.M., Monday, July 28

SARAH BEILER INCHED her way forward, belly crawling through black Pennsylvania mud, carefully choosing her path to avoid twigs, leaves, acorns, and anything else that could give away her position. The seventeen-year-old’s long, gray dress was caked with mud, and her greasy, strawberry-blonde hair had begun to fall out of her bonnet. With each movement, she paused long enough to shift her granddaddy’s double-barrel shotgun an arm’s length in front of her. The stench of decaying vegetation filled her nostrils. Sweat dripped from her head, a bead occasionally snaking down her temple and into the corner of an eye. It stung like peroxide dumped into an open wound.

In the distance, a hen turkey yelped. It was answered immediately by several sharp peeps from its young. Sarah paused, raised her head slowly, and looked over her right shoulder. The field’s grass, eight inches high, swayed gently in the breeze. Sarah pulled a turkey wing bone call from the pocket of her dress and gave a short series of hen yelps. She was answered by turkey sounds from fifty yards away. Sarah crawled another ten feet before pausing at the edge of the shallow draw in front of her. She slowly parted the grass and looked intently up and down the path that wound its way through the twists and turns of the canyon. She watched and listened for several minutes, then sent another signal with her turkey wing bone.

A minute later, a young man on the other side of the draw rose up on his elbows, removed a backpack, and placed it on the ground in front of him. He rested his beat-up model 94 .30-.30 on the pack, its barrel pointing up the canyon.

Sarah placed her granddaddy’s shotgun on the ground in front of her and waited. Her breathing was steady in spite of the talons of fear clawing at her stomach. Sarah shut her eyes tight and prayed. She wasn’t sure if God would forgive her for what she had done, or what she was about to do. Dark memories swirled in her mind. Blood, so much blood. Cold, lifeless eyes staring blankly up at her as dirt was thrown over them. The smell of stomach acid and half-digested roast beef as it gushed from her mouth. The ear-piercing moans of anguish, her moans of anguish, echoing through the oak trees.

Sarah opened her eyes, and the memories scurried back into the dark places of her subconscious. A man’s voice floated down the canyon.

Hurry up! he shouted. I thought you Amish was stronger than this. If you can’t handle the load, then we don’t need ya. Maybe we should just cap ya n’ haul it ourselves. Sarah’s friend Kevin Hummel, eighteen years old, his sister Naomi, only thirteen, and two men came into view. Kevin was harnessed up like a mule, pulling a cart loaded with raw vegetables, home-canned foods, and two large slabs of beef. Naomi walked at his heels. The two strangers walked ten feet behind, their rifles trained on their captives. They were seventy yards away and moving closer.

Kevin’s boot caught on a rock. He fell to his knees. Naomi bent down to help him. One of the men, a red scar running down the full length of his face, rushed forward, grabbed her by the hair, and jerked her backwards. The other man came forward and raised his hand to slap her. His companion caught his arm just before it made contact.

Not in the face, Hanson! If we bring her in all marked up, Randy gonna cap us both!

Hanson withdrew his hand. Scarface grabbed Naomi by the hair again and dragged her out of the way. Hanson took a step forward and kicked Kevin in the ribs. Kevin doubled over and curled up on the ground in a ball.

Sarah gritted her teeth and fought the urge to jump up and shoot Hanson in the face. They were too far away. If she acted too soon, there was a chance one of them could escape and bring more men than she and her companion could handle.

Usually, when the bad men came to the village, they took what they wanted and quickly left. This time they had stayed four days, lounging around and eating as much as they could. They had also raped three of Sarah’s friends.

The extra time had strengthened her hate. Now that hate was starting to consume her. The only way to feed it was to focus it on these men.

Scarface bent down and yelled in Kevin’s ear: Get up!

Kevin moaned and made no effort to get up.

We have orders to bring this n’ your pretty lil’ sister, with no marks. Scarface walked back, grabbed Naomi by the forearm, dragged her next to Kevin, and threw her on the ground.

Our orders said no marks. Randy didn’t say nothin’ bout a little trainin’. Maybe we can just wait here for a while. You can catch your breath, n’ I can have a lil’ fun with sissy. Maybe break her in a little. Scarface tore open the front of Naomi’s dress, exposing her breasts. Naomi screamed and tried to crawl away. He grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her back. He pinned her arms down with his knees, then grabbed a handful of breast with dirty fingers.

I’m up! Kevin shouted as he got to his feet. I’m up.

Kevin’s muscles strained and he grunted as he pushed forward, dragging the heavy cart down the path. Scarface let Naomi up. Red faced and sobbing, she held the front of her dress closed and trotted after her brother.

That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Scarface said and the two men followed, laughing, twenty yards behind.

When the foursome was still forty yards from Sarah, Scarface stopped them to take a rest. Kevin let the harness fall from his sagging shoulders and sat down hard in the dirt. Naomi sat beside him and buried her face in the folds of his shirt.

Sarah slipped her finger into the trigger guard of her shotgun and placed her other hand under the forestock. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears. Her breathing, steady just minutes before, now came in short, ragged gasps. A sliver of doubt wedged into her thoughts. Could she go through this again? She knew what she was about to do was wrong. She knew it as sure as she knew it would condemn her to the fires of Hell. Why had God allowed the world to become so dark and violent? Why didn’t he protect his people from the anguish and torment? Life had been so simple, so innocent, before the bad people began invading their home, taking what they pleased by force. She just wanted to go back. Back to the way it used to be.

Sarah closed her eyes. Her mind drifted to an afternoon just a month before. She was standing with her father, mother, sister Amity, Grandpa Vernon, and Grandma Grace in the Yoders’ barn on a warm morning. Her father held The Ausbund hymnal open as they all leaned in close to read the words. The voices of her family and friends rang out loud and in perfect harmony as they sang Lob Lied. Soft breezes carried the scent of horse manure and Summersweet bushes through the open doors of the barn.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder and caught the deep blue eyes of Jakob Miller staring back at her from the back bench. He really was quite hand-some—six feet two inches tall, with coarse, brick-red hair, his boyish face and a smattering of freckles on his cheekbones making him look younger than his nineteen years. The rest of him, though, was definitely all grown up: broad, well-muscled shoulders and long, sinewy arms hardened by many hours behind a plow and from swinging a heavy sickle.

When Jakob grinned and winked, impure thoughts nearly overwhelmed Sarah. She quickly averted her eyes. Her mother caught the exchange out of the corner of her eye, smiled at Sarah, and tilted her head toward Sarah’s father. Sarah mustered the most innocent look she could and smiled back at her mother. Sarah had always been a daddy’s girl. In her eyes he was the greatest man alive. But her mother understood her and had been her best friend as long as she could remember.

After the weekly service ended, Sarah joined her friends just outside and waited for the women of the village to transform the barn from a church into a meal and fellowship hall. There was much talking and laughing among the girls, but Sarah paid little attention. Instead, she positioned herself near the small doorway so she could watch Jakob visit with the rest of the village men. After the men finished their meal, Sarah got in line with the other women and girls to dish up her own food.

Suddenly, the double barn doors burst open. Four men in tattered clothing ran inside. Three of them pointed rifles at the village men. They swept the muzzles of the rifles side to side, sometimes stopping for a few seconds in front of a bearded face. Children scrambled under the dresses of their mothers, who also cowered in fear.

The man in charge of the group shouted out orders, then walked through the barn, studying the faces of the young men. Sarah tried to keep her head down like the rest of her people, but she couldn’t help glancing up. The leader of the invaders was at least six feet tall, his head shaved. Sarah thought he was ugly. He walked with a limp and had thin, red lips set below a gaunt face. Despite the circumstances, part of Sarah felt sorry for him—he obviously hadn’t been eating well. She had never known true hunger and had always taken it for granted that her people would have all they needed.

Sarah’s father squared his shoulders, walked to the middle of the barn, and addressed everyone in his deep, commanding voice: Everyone stay calm. These people have come to us for help once again. Let’s all cooperate with them and share what God has provided.

Sarah trembled with a mixture of fear and anger. She knew she was supposed to turn the other cheek and forgive these men for all they had done and would possibly do in the future. She’d done it each time they’d come, but every time it got harder.

When the leader stopped in front of Jakob, Sarah’s heart stopped. She screamed, knowing what was about to happen, and started to rush forward. Her father grabbed her around the waist, clamping a hand over her mouth. Sarah kicked, clawed at her father’s hands, and screamed against his palm as Jakob was led outside. Before she knew it, he was gone.

Half an hour later, Sarah was still shaking and sobbing. Her father had carried her to their house and laid her in her bed. He’d spent a half an hour praying with her, then walked out gently, closing the door behind him.

Sarah sat up in bed, wiped her eyes, and bit her lip, drawing blood. Oh, Jakob! How could her father do nothing? Why did he allow these men to keep tormenting them? Her mind kept replaying the image of Jakob’s strong back disappearing as the evil men led him away.

A hen turkey call interrupted Sarah’s anguish. She opened her eyes. Kevin and Naomi had already passed by. Scarface was now directly below her. If she’d daydreamed any longer, these men would have been gone and she would have never seen her friend Naomi again.

In one motion, Sarah rose to a knee, slammed the butt of the shotgun to her shoulder, took a bead on Scarface’s forehead, and squeezed both triggers. Flames shot from the barrels. The top of the man’s head peeled back and came to rest on the back of his neck, hair side down. He stood stiff-legged for a moment, a look of surprise on his face, then crumpled to the ground.

Hanson dropped his gun, dove to the dirt, and began crawling toward the brush just off the trail. To Sarah’s right, a young man’s .30-.30 barked. Hanson screamed in pain as the .30-caliber bullet tore through the middle of his back and blew out his spine. He clawed the mud desperately, trying to pull himself into the brush, dragging his lifeless legs behind him and moaning in terror. The young man slid down the bank and slowly walked toward Hanson. Ten feet from the man, he raised his rifle, shoved the barrel against Hanson’s skull, and fired again.

Sarah half ran, half slid down the side of the draw. Dirt filled her shoes and stickers poked holes in her black tights. Jakob Miller stood over the man he’d just killed. Sarah slipped up beside him and took his hand in hers.

It doesn’t get any easier, he said. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.

Sarah raised a trembling hand and cupped Jakob’s chin, turning his face toward hers. His eyes were red, his face twisted up. A single tear slid down his cheek.

Sarah had loved this boy since she was a child. Seeing him in so much anguish tore at her insides.

We had no choice, she whispered. "We can’t let those that serve the Devil hurt our people. It’s not right to stand by and do nothing while our friends, neighbors, and even family are taken from us to be enslaved or killed. I’m sorry, but I think the elders are wrong to not fight back. I know in my heart that we’re doing the only thing we can to stop this. Is it wrong? Probably. No. It is wrong. It’s just…we have no choice."

But we’re killing people, Sarah. Jakob protested. The Almighty commands us to not kill. That is nonnegotiable according to the Ten Commandments.

Sarah let go of Jakob’s hand. Flecks of spittle sprayed from between her lips as she hissed her response.

"It also says in the commandments, ‘Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them.’ In Psalm 82:4, it tells us to ‘Rescue the weak and needy; Deliver them out of the hand of the wicked.’ I’m not going to get in an argument with you about the finer points of God’s Word, she said. But I want you to look at them."

Sarah grabbed Jakob’s chin and jerked his head toward the two young people they’d just rescued. Naomi sat in the dirt, her knees pulled up under her chin, her head rocking back and forth. Kevin knelt next to his sister, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Both were crying.

That’s why we do this! Sarah snapped. We do it for them, and everyone who is like them. We do it for their families. We do it so no one else has to die at the hands of evil. As long as I have breath in me, I will continue to do that. Sarah gestured toward the man she had killed. I know this will not be the last time I take a life. I know it, just as sure as I know I will be damned for what I have done. I also know that if I don’t do what needs to be done, more of our friends and family will die.

Before Jakob could protest again, Sarah walked behind him, reached into his backpack, took out a small folding shovel, and pushed him hard between the shoulders. She turned and walked off the trail, into the thick trees.

She chose a clear spot surrounded by dense brush and began to dig. After a few minutes, Jakob joined her with the second shovel. Silently, they tore into the soft, rich soil. In thirty minutes, they dug two holes, each four feet by eight feet and four feet deep. They retrieved Scarface’s body and dropped it into the first fresh grave. Before the body was covered, Kevin and Naomi joined them, dragging the other gangster. No one spoke as they covered the last body and hid the freshly disturbed earth with brush and leaves. Sarah couldn’t stop wondering if the men’s blood was crying out from the ground to God’s ears as Abel’s blood had when Cain slew him.

When the task was completed, they gathered around the food cart. Kevin broke the silence.

I’m glad they’re dead. I know I shouldn’t be. I know how I’m expected to feel and act, turn the other cheek and all, but I am glad. If I could have, I would have done it myself for what they did to Naomi. May God forgive me for my sinful thoughts, but I would have.

Naomi began to cry again. Kevin held her close.

Now it was Sarah’s turn to speak. You know you can’t tell anyone what happened here today. No one in the village must ever fin—

You can’t expect us to lie, Naomi interrupted, a squeak in her voice. People will want to know how we escaped, and how we got the food and supplies back. I can’t lie to them, especially Papa.

I can’t force you to lie, Naomi. Sarah said. But you need to decide right now whether or not what you just went through is something you want anyone else to have to face. What if the next time it’s your little sister? If the elders find out what we’re doing, they will try to stop us. When these wicked men come to the village again—and mark my words, they will come—there will be no one to stand up to them. How would you feel if you are the reason the next girl gets raped or killed? Can you live with that?

Naomi looked stunned. Sarah could see the inner struggle reflected in her eyes. She felt guilty for putting Naomi in that position, but it was the same position she’d been in the first time she had fought back. Over time, Sarah had justified what she was doing by telling herself it was for the good of her people. She hoped Naomi would agree with her thinking.

Maybe you don’t lie, said Sarah. Maybe you just don’t tell them anything. Maybe the events of today are too painful for you to speak about. Maybe you tell them that. I doubt if they will push you into saying something that would cause you further pain.

Naomi wiped her eyes. How long have you been … I mean, how many times have you … Her words trailed off. She gestured toward the woods where they had just buried the men.

Sarah took a deep breath and stared at the trees around the graves before answering. When Carla didn’t come back after the first raid, I cried. I cried for days. I was angry at Bishop Springer, and every other man in the village, including my father. They just stood there and did nothing while she was drug away, being groped and pawed at by animals. The only thing the braaave men of our village did is bow their heads in prayer.

Sarah bit her lip. My Father, the deacon, protector of our people, just stood there with his hands at his sides. We could still hear Carla’s screams as they took her away. I was so angry. No one made a move to go after her.

Sarah clenched her fists at her sides before continuing. The second time they came, Isaac and Julia were the ones to be dragged off. Sacrificed by the cowards in charge of our village. The time after that, Jakob was drug away.

Sarah paused, looked at Jakob, and swallowed hard.

"Later that evening, I grabbed Granddaddy’s shotgun, and slipped out of the village while everyone slept. I followed them for two days. I watched them kick, punch, and nearly kill him the entire journey. When we got close to Pittsburgh, I decided I would let them go no further. I ran through the woods and got in front of them. I hid behind an old rotten log and waited. Just as the sun went down, they came into view. Jakob could hardly walk. He was bruised and bleeding from cuts on his face. I imagined the men were deer, and I was hunting. I slowly parted the brush in front of the log and placed the barrel through the opening. When they came into range, I froze. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t stand the thought of taking a life. I just watched them pass by no more than fifteen feet away.

Then they stopped. One of the men laughed at Jakob. He said they were nearly through with him, and told Jakob that he wasn’t going to go home. He spit on him, cussed at him, called him a worthless cracker, and cursed the name of God. The anger exploded inside of me. Before I knew what was happening, I was spinning around, the barrel of the shotgun was coming up, and my finger was on the front trigger. It was like I was watching myself from a distance. I had no control over my body. The next memory I have is of Jakob holding me and somebody screaming. I realized it was me.

Sarah couldn’t hold back her emotions anymore. Tears streamed down her face. She turned away from the group. A gentle hand on her shoulder turned her around. She looked into the face of Naomi, and the two embraced. Their tears mixed as their cheeks pressed together.

I’m so sorry, Naomi sobbed.

They held each other for several minutes before Sarah pushed her away.

I have to do this, whispered Sarah. There is no other option. Like it or not, our world has changed. We can no longer hide away. We’ve always had to make sacrifices and put up with hurts from the Englishmen’s world in order to live out our faith. But the days of the biggest hurt being someone pointing at us and laughing or saying mean things are over. This is life or death, and I choose to live. I’m not ready to go before the Father and face judgment. I want to have children. I want to be loved by someone, and know what it’s like to lay in the arms of the one I love and feel his skin on my skin. Sarah glanced at Jakob. He averted his eyes and his cheeks turned bright red.

Sarah turned back to Naomi and set her jaw. You need to choose right now, Naomi. Do you want to live? Will evil win and rob you of the life God has planned for you?

Naomi didn’t answer, but Sarah could see resolve in her eyes. She knew she might not decide right away, but she was certain now that Naomi would fight alongside her and Jakob.

Sarah and her companions moved back up the trail. By this time the sun’s shadows were growing long. Sarah knew there was no way they would make it back to the warmth and comfort of Amish life that day. Kevin and Naomi were both exhausted and battered from their captivity. The best thing they could do was find a secluded spot off the trail, warm themselves by a roaring fire, and rest up for the remainder of the journey.

I am so tired, Sarah said, doing her best to keep Naomi and Kevin from feeling bad about slowing them down. And for the last mile I have been practically drooling, thinking about cracking open that jar of Mrs. Bontrager’s apricot preserves and eating it like pudding.

Naomi smiled up at Sarah.

I swear, Sarah Beiler, Jakob said. I ain’t never met a girl that could eat like you. You put every boy I know to shame.

Half an hour later, they were all seated around a large campfire. Their bellies were full, and they reminisced about their childhoods and growing up Amish.

Wait! Wait! I got one, Naomi said. You guys remember when Mark Yoder ran into the middle of supper after the Lengachers’ barn raising, all covered with skunk juice?

Sarah laughed heartily. She looked at Jakob, who had again turned a dark shade of crimson. If I remember correctly, she said, that whole thing was your fault, Jakob.

He shrugged his shoulders and forced an innocent smile. It wasn’t my fault. Mark should’ve known better than to crawl headfirst into a brush pile just because I told him to. The fact that me and Elmer Stoltzfus had just chased the foul creature in there is completely irrelevant.

This time they all laughed. Sarah understood that they needed the distraction from the world they now found themselves in, a world that had drifted away from the one they’d known before.

The temporary levity was shattered by Naomi’s next words: I really miss Mark.

Silence blanketed the small camp as each of them stared into the firelight and recalled the day Mark was taken from them. It was the same day they lost Julia.

The gang had rushed into the village without warning and begun randomly shooting at farmhouses. Mark’s father came out of his house and tried to reason with them, but all he managed was to make them angry. They cracked him over the head with a gun barrel and kicked him up and down his body until he quit moving. Mark ran from the house toward his beaten father. They shot him in the head before he cleared the front porch. Sarah could hear the screams of his mother and sister as he lay bleeding out on the whitewashed stairs.

Sarah closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory. With each shake of her head, a happy memory rushed into her mind: barn raisings, Christmas dinners at her grandmother’s table, afternoons spent leaning over her needlepoint, late summer evenings watching her father as he milked the cows and fed the hogs, family prayers and devotions. Amish life was hard, but it was a way of life she truly loved. She had learned to love peace, and to be charitable above all else. Now, in this new world, those lessons no longer seemed to apply.

I don’t know about the rest of you, Sarah said, but I’m beat down. If we want to get started early in the morning, we should probably get some sleep.

She lay on her side, settled into a pile of leaves, and stared into the dying flames of the fire. As long as she could remember, she had never needed anything from the outside world. But when the Englishmen’s world came crumbling down, it seemed the Heavenly Father had removed his hand of divine providence from her life, and their corrupt world had spilled into hers. Now she was torn between both worlds. She still believed in the Father and the strength of tradition, but she was being dragged into the violence and death that had once been America. It filled her with fear. Would she have to choose between the worlds one day? If anyone from her village found out what she had done, she knew that choice would be made for her.

CHAPTER 2

Silent Run Road

Pittsburgh

8:30 A.M., Thursday, July 31

FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD JULIA LAPP positioned the stainless steel bucket under the cow’s udders and began to pull and squeeze on the teats in a steady rhythm. With each pull, a stream of milk squirted into the bucket and a sharp pain shot from Julia’s ribs.

Randy had been especially rough on her the night before when the two men he had sent out for supplies didn’t return when expected. Every time something didn’t go exactly the way he thought it should, he took out his frustrations by knocking her around. Then he raped her. When his stress was relieved, he usually fell asleep, and Julia would carefully slip out of bed and retreat to her small bedroom in the basement of the huge Fox Chapel mansion. But last night, Randy had not been asleep. He’d flown into a rage when she attempted to get out of bed. He grabbed her by the hair with his left hand, jerked her head back, and slapped her cheek with the other hand. He threw her back onto the bed, knelt over her, and worked his way down her ninety-five-pound frame with his fists. When he had exhausted his rage, he tossed her to the floor, kicked her once in the ribs, and walked over to the gilded liquor cabinet. He pulled a bottle of sixty-year-old Speyside single malt whiskey from a shelf, took a long hard pull from the bottle, and walked out, leaving her to cry on the cold marble floor.

Julia finished milking the cow and carried the bucket to the concrete pool shed where she would let it cool while the cream