The Countering Read online

  Was Salvador Romanero there when, without a shred of mercy, the Jews stole their land out from underneath the Palestinians in 1948? No, he wasn’t. Was he there when they’d tried on numerous occasions to reacquire what they felt was rightfully theirs, only to be out-muscled by the much-smaller, yet infinitely mightier, Israeli army? No, he wasn’t. This was their battle, not his!

  Scores of Muslims all over the world joined their Palestinian brothers and sisters, standing side by side denouncing the peace treaty signing. Their goal wasn’t peace for Israel, but to see that corrupt nation, and Jews everywhere for that matter, wiped off the face of the Earth. For good!

  Only then would they rejoice.

  On the other side of the street, Jewish protesters were just as fiery as their Muslim counterparts. Regardless of how beloved Romanero appeared in the eyes and hearts of most citizens, there was something about him that just wasn’t right.

  A growing percentage of Jews, resident and visitor alike, wanted nothing to do with his many promises of peace for their tiny nation. They didn’t trust the man and, as the days passed, they grew more and more skeptical of what they thought to be nothing more than “bogus” promises coming out of his mouth.

  And he wasn’t even a Jew!

  “Our God would never sanction this!” they screamed to high heaven.

  Some appeared on TV talk shows, vehemently denouncing the upcoming event as something coming straight from the pits of hell. Conservative Jews, especially, couldn’t accept that Israel’s leaders would sign a treaty with an outsider, a Gentile.

  They cried, “Only Yahweh God can deliver lasting peace to our long-besieged nation, not some outspoken Gentile! Soon our long-awaited Messiah will rescue us out from underneath the constant fear of annihilation.”

  Most secular Jews, however, graciously welcomed Salvador Romanero and his promise of peace to their tiny nation, even if he wasn’t one of their own.

  Of the three largest groups of protesters, by far, Christians were the most peaceful. Completely mindful that they could do nothing to prevent what was prophesied 3,000 years ago in the Book of Daniel, they were there to warn the many unconverted of what would follow this historic event.

  “Instead of peace on the horizon for all,” they cried in unison, “unspeakable devastation awaits us. Repent and turn to Jesus before it’s too late! Only then will you be able to see through Romanero’s hypnotic lies and have eternal security!”

  Salvador Romanero endured it all without displaying a hint of anger. He even ordered universal peace-keeping soldiers to stand down and let them protest. But inside, his fury superseded even his nauseous stomach. Yet his countenance remained unchanged. He looked like the most peaceful citizen on the planet.

  Upon reaching Khativat Yerushalayim Street/Route 60, the man who quickly and easily rose above the landscape of humanity to find himself in this most venerated position, dismounted his donkey and was escorted back to the King David Hotel by limousine.

  Once there, a group of universal peacekeeping soldiers formed a human wall around Romanero and hurried him inside the vast expanse of the building, careful not to let anyone touch him.

  Once they reached the bank of elevators they dispersed, allowing the Miracle Maker to board a private elevator car to his suite.

  The instant he was inside his room, Romanero raced to the bathroom and vomited the contents inside his stomach. But it did nothing to bring him relief. This hatred of the Jews was nothing new. It was always there.

  But what he felt now, especially when hearing Ha Tikva being played earlier, took his inner rage to a whole new level, easily rivaling the way he felt when looking at a cross or a Christian church.

  Each time he did, it pierced him to the deepest core of his being.

  When the time was right, Romanero would see that every church, mosque and synagogue was burned to the ground. He would also see that the leaders of Iran and Turkey who snubbed him by not sending their soldiers, and the many protesters lining the pathway heckling him, all paid a severe price for their disloyalty and insubordination.

  Thanks to facial and voice recognition technology, all who could be identified would find themselves placed on Romanero’s newly-created “dissident” file.

  Dissident number one was Crown Prince Javier of Spain, for his failed attempt to discredit him in front of the eyes of the world a few months ago.

  Dissidents number two and three were the two men who accompanied Romanero to Brussels, Belgium on behalf of the King of Spain, to spy on him.

  Because the king was in very poor health, Romanero left him off the list. His days were already numbered...

  2

  AS THE MEDIA RECAPITULATED this historic moment, social media sites were abuzz with netizens the world over.

  With the promise of peace thick in the air, there was great cause for optimism. But not everyone was buying what Salvador Romanero was selling. New believers in Christ Jesus were equally inspired to share what the Bible had to say about these times.

  They warned that Romanero was merely deceiving them, that despite his apparent good will, it was nothing but well-crafted lies. Dark, powerful forces were directing his path.

  Now that he’d just announced the signing of the peace treaty for this coming Passover, there could be no doubt that he was the Antichrist of the Bible. Only someone with supernatural powers coming from Satan himself could accomplish what he had in such a short period of time.

  Many new Christians posted Daniel 11:36 on their Facebook walls, “And the king shall do as he wills. He shall exalt himself and magnify himself above every god, shall speak astonishing things against the God of gods. He shall prosper till the indignation is accomplished; for what is decreed shall be done.”

  Their boldness was admirable but certainly not smart. Unlike in Jerusalem where peacekeeping troops were ordered to stand down and let the protests continue, Christians online were constantly harassed and threatened. Some, after being tracked down by their IP addresses, were beaten in the streets and even inside their homes by mere common folks.

  Thanks to the media, who kept comparing Salvador Romanero to Jesus Christ—with Romanero being the hero and Jesus being the villain—anger and hatred toward Christians had steadily risen as the weeks passed. It was reaching the boiling point.

  “Did Jesus ever receive a half-million marriage proposals from men and women when He was alive?” cried one of Romanero’s most staunch supporters on international television.

  She wasn’t the only one aiming fire-tipped arrows of harsh criticism at new Christ followers.

  There were plenty of others.

  “Jesus wasn’t one-tenth the man Salvador Romanero is,” hissed a powerful media mogul. “He would never champion the things Salvador Romanero holds so dear to his heart, including equal rights for all! And that’s because Jesus only cared about the needs and concerns of some, not all!”

  The hatred in his eyes was sobering.

  Another outspoken secret society media mogul from Europe appeared on a TV talk show, for what was advertised a friendly religious debate. It was anything but that.

  Pointing her finger at her Christian opponent, she went off on him, “If Jesus were here, He would order women back to our homes where He thinks we belong! He would also condemn homosexuals everywhere, thus violating one of His supposed ten commandments to ‘love thy neighbor.’

  “This proves Jesus was nothing more than an outdated hypocrite! While your so-called Savior preached unapologetic hate speech, the most-high Salvador Romanero promises to stop at nothing until women, minorities, homosexuals and transgenders everywhere are recognized worldwide as full-fledged equal partners of society. That’s what I call loving thy neighbor!

  “Salvador Romaner
o understands that in order to create a new utopia, everyone must be treated as equals. But did Jesus? No! Nor do His many misguided followers! The fact that my savior chooses to treat all who discriminate against him so lovingly makes me love him all the more!” she proclaimed. “Who else is like him? Surely, he is a god. There can be no other explanation!”

  Before her Christian counterpart could reply, she continued, “And don’t tell me organized religions can’t come together and exist on the same level. There are nearly three billion Buddhists and Hindus among us. Not only do these two groups get along extremely well, the vast majority stand with Salvador Romanero. Like the majority of us, their mantra is, ‘Anything for peace’.

  “Oh, but not you Christians. You think you’re better than the rest of us! How pathetic! The simple truth is you don’t fit in like everyone else. With the wheels of progress turning again, people like you are causing too many bumps in the road to make for a smooth ride.”

  Rising from her chair, she pointed her finger at him again and said, “People like you have kept total harmony and unity from manifesting on Planet Earth for far too long. Because of your unwillingness to change, you don’t deserve to have the favor of Salvador Romanero shining on you.

  “If the choice were mine to make, you would all be wiped off the face of the Earth! If that means hell for me, let me just say that I would rather end up in hell with my savior than spend a single day in homophobic Heaven with yours!”

  The man once again tried voicing his opinion, but it fell on deaf ears when the producer went to commercial break.

  A fuse of violence was lit that quickly engulfed the entire planet. Christ followers were being mocked as closed-minded zealots, bigots, extremists and fundamental fools, who cared nothing for those who weren’t like them.

  Spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ was rapidly becoming the most dangerous thing to do.

  The only people who were as hated were practicing Jews.

  Because of their negative portrayal of Salvador Romanero, and thanks to a few leaks to the media—many spawned from the secret society responsible for elevating the Miracle Maker to such lofty heights—Jews and Christians were beaten in the streets, tortured, raped and sometimes even killed by common citizens.

  Worse, universal peacekeeping forces and state and local officials looked the other way when it was happening. The rule on the streets was to let it continue, inhumane or not.

  These people were the problem. Like cockroaches, they needed to be exterminated so a new enlightened society could finally be realized on Planet Earth.

  The unspoken word in mainstream society was quickly becoming, “What’s one less Christian or Jew? No one will miss ’em when they’re gone!”

  The Salvador Romanero killing machine was just getting fired up, and who could stop it?

  To most Muslims, while opposing much of what Salvador Romanero stood for, they applauded the hatred he kept stirring up against Christians and Jews.

  Why intervene when the infidels were doing their job for them, even setting churches and synagogues ablaze the world over?

  Salvador Romanero sent a tweet to his three billion followers, urging whoever was setting the fires to cease at once. Christians and Jews should remain free to worship in their churches and synagogues. Just because they have no respect for what I’m out to accomplish gives no one the right to burn down their places of worship!”

  Totally blinded to the truth, his growing army of followers praised their leader for extending so much compassion toward those who were clearly unworthy of it. In various polls shown on TV and online, most openly admitted they could never handle those parasites as eloquently as their fearless leader was doing.

  But what was skillfully hidden from public knowledge was that Romanero’s henchmen were the ones behind much of the arson taking place. No one wanted to see the eventual annihilation of all who opposed him more than he did—especially those who chose Jesus over him.

  Unfortunately, for those not belonging to the Most High God, by the time they finally realized who Salvador Romanero really was—the son of Satan—it would be too late.

  3

  BRIAN MULROONEY BOLTED UPRIGHT in his bed, after being jolted from a deep sleep. His T-shirt was soaked with sweat and he trembled with fear, due to a dream he’d just had. It was the same exact dream he’d had the previous two nights.

  This particular invasion into his dream world had nothing to do with last November’s harrowing event, which Mulrooney now knew was the Rapture of Christ’s Church. Nor was it about the just-announced peace treaty signing. And it certainly had nothing to do with his declining relationship with his girlfriend, Renate McCallister, the growing “religious” conflict with his father, or his uncertain future in the hotel business.

  No, this dream was about the religious institution he’d been a member of for most of his life, the Catholic Church. It was more of a vision, really, centered on a man Brian had never met in person, but had spoken to once on the phone.

  At least that’s who Mulrooney thought it was. That lone conversation came the day after the Rapture, when the 33-year-old hotel manager called the local Catholic Church in Ann Arbor, Michigan, requesting an audience with a priest.

  Father Dunleavey called back later saying he only had a few minutes to spare. In that brief time the Catholic clergyman did nothing to assuage Mulrooney’s fear or shed a single strand of light on what had transpired the day before.

  Because of this, Mulrooney was just as confused at the end of that call as he was in the beginning. So why is he haunting my dreams now?

  Though Brian had never seen the man’s face, he felt certain it was him. He ran his fingers through sweaty hair, doing his best to corral his thoughts and make sense of it all.

  In his dream, Father Tom Dunleavey was saying mass to a completely packed church, dressed in his usual religious garb. As he went through the motions of delivering the traditional sermon, preset by the Church itself, everything looked normal enough.

  Just as he was giving the homily, after reading the liturgy of the Word, the strangest thing happened: light smoke protruded through his priestly garments and drifted skyward. At first, Mulrooney thought it was the holy smoke he’d seen on many occasions during Catholic mass, only the priest wasn’t holding a golden censer. His hands were clasped together, as if in prayer.

  Brian must have been floating or levitating because he had an undisturbed bird’s-eye view of the entire church. Peculiarly enough, though only a dream, he could smell the smoke as it rose up toward him. It certainly wasn’t the aromatic sweet-smelling incense that filled his nostrils on occasion at church.

  If anything, it smelled like burning flesh; human flesh to be precise, identical to what he smelled at Michigan Stadium a few short horrific months ago.

  Brian tried warning Father Dunleavey that his garments were smoking, but his voice went unheard. The Catholic clergyman was too focused on the task at hand to be distracted. The more he spoke to the congregation, the more the smoke intensified.

  Yet he remained undeterred, as if in a trance.

  As Mulrooney’s eyes wandered over the congregation, smoke started pouring out of everyone within the sound of the Catholic priest’s voice. Father Dunleavey must have noticed his sheep smoking like a bunch of chimneys, yet he kept on preaching without the slightest concern or hesitation.

  Just as he was about to give the benediction, everyone suddenly burst into flames; the Catholic priest included! Even doused in fire, Father Dunleavey remained undeterred.

  Meanwhile, anguished, distorted screams filled the cathedral as he blessed his sheep by performing the sign of the cross.

  They begged him not to continue; that his words and actions only intensified the agony they felt. Bu
t he kept going until everyone was completely engulfed in flames. Only no one was consumed by it. At least not initially.

  Mulrooney’s vantage point widened more vertically. Above Father Dunleavey he could see the Catholic Church hierarchy protruding through thick flames and smoke; faceless beings, identified only by what they wore, from nuns to priests to cardinals to bishops and so on.

  At the very top of the pyramid was the Pope himself, standing alongside Salvador Romanero.

  In the back of the sanctuary, Brian heard two men taking turns preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Both wore sackcloth robes, sandals, and had long, wiry gray hair and even longer beards. They looked as if they’d been transported by time machine straight out of the Old Testament.

  The only things missing were their camels and staffs. Their deep, scratchy voices boomed throughout the sanctuary. Their message was unmistakable, unwavering: “Repent or burn!”

  Standing side-by-side, one of them said, “Whoever believes in Yeshua is not condemned, but whoever does not believe in Him is condemned already. The only chance of being rescued from the flames of hell is by discarding everything you’ve been taught in this condemned house of idol worship and repent before a just and Holy God before it’s too late!”

  Mulrooney observed in wonderment as some who heard and believed the Message sincerely repented of their sins and placed their complete trust in Christ Jesus. They were plucked out of the fire, thus rescued from eternal damnation.

  Miraculously, there wasn’t a single burn mark found on any of them. It’s as if they were washed white as snow.

  Everyone else screamed in agony begging to be rescued. But since their hearts remained hardened to the true Gospel of Jesus Christ, they were ultimately consumed by fire, and were without hope or excuse.

  Peering through the smoke and flames, Mulrooney saw great confusion on Father Dunleavey’s face. His eyes fearfully volleyed from the Catholic Church hierarchy above him to the two men at the rear of the sanctuary. He was being pulled in both directions like a tug-of-war. The terror on his face was unmistakable.