Left Behind: Confronting God

[Originally posted at Slacktivist (throughout the thread)]

Both versions have Chloe mouthing off to God, at length and in detail, for being ... well, Left Behind God.  Also eternal damnation in general because (pun unfortunately unavoidable) damn.

Here is one version:

-

"Well, FINALLY," God thundered.

Buck and Ray stepped back worriedly, obviously not wanting divine wrath to slop on to them, but Amanda was of sterner stuff. "Finally what?" she asked, coming to put an arm around the very pale, but not quaking Chloe.

"I have been trapped in this universe damning script since Darby somehow hit upon some sort of celestial harmonic that caused belief in me to overpower my own will," God said.

"Err, what now?" Chloe asked.

"The only way I could get rid of Hell was if someone came here, stood up, and forcefully put forward the belief that there shouldn't be one, except the people most likely to do that were the ones that were kept furthest away from me."

"So... you didn't actually want to send those people to..." Chloe trailed off.

"Those people?" God asked pointing at the seemingly unending crowd of people from all times and cultures now approaching His throne.

"So, Hell is...?"

"Gone. And gone for good," God said. "Though I'm somewhat tempted to revive the place for those who brought it into existence and sustained it with their hateful belief," He said looking at Rayford and Buck.

"God," Chloe said chidingly.

"I said 'somewhat tempted', I'm not going to do it."

"No threatening people with damnation," Chloe said.

"Alright," God conceded. "I owe you at least that much for freeing me from that horrible, hateful script." God shuddered. "I couldn't deviate from the checklist even a little."

-

The other was more of an exercise in unplanned group fiction, I came in right after someone pointed out that important Jewish figures would likely back Chloe up (notably Job "Will not the judge of all the earth do right?" and Abraham "Will you really destroy the whole fucking planet if there are still ten righteous people living on it?" Abraham actually goes on for a bit, but the point here is to host my own stuff, not to reproduce other people's stuff.)  Thus we pick up at:

-

God: What's with the damned dogpile?
*No one backs down*
God: And I do mean damned.
Michael: Isn't it about time you forgave my brother Lucifer? I mean, seriously.
God: Gabe?
Gabriel: Look, I'm with Mike on this one.
God: Son?
Jesus: Have you paid attention to one word I said?
God: Look, I know you want me to give my undivided attention to your little club but-
Jesus: ONE FUCKING WORD?!
God: Now listen everyone, I'm still God here.

-

[Left Behind Index]

NRA: Chloe got her licks in

[Originally posted at Slacktivist.]
[The canonical conversation goes thus:

(Chloe:) “Then I got my licks in, telling her all about how you and I met, where you were when the Rapture happened, and how you and I and Daddy became believers.”

(Buck:) “Verna must have thought we were all from another planet.”

One could read getting her licks in as accidental honesty at how aggressive and unpleasant RTC witnessing is.  Or, one could read it like this:]

-

"Then I got my licks in," Chloe said.

"That's good," Buck said.

"Yeah," Chloe said with her voice becoming distant and a faraway look in her eyes. "She's tasty."

"What?!"

"I mean, I told her all about how you and I met, where you were when the Rapture happened, and how you and I and Daddy became believers.”

“Verna must have thought we were all from another planet.”

"It felt like we were floating," Chloe said, the distance returning.

"What was that?"

"Um... it felt like we were fighting. She's so hostile and combative and stuff."

"Ok, ok."

-

[Left Behind Index]

Skewed Slightly to the Left: Homecoming

[Originally posted at Slacktivist]
[I thought World War III in canon Left Behind was over, but apparently Jenkins can't be bothered to give it a definitive ending so, executive decision, I'm going with my original impression which is that it ended before Cameron went to retrieve Tsion and that is how Skewed Slightly to the Left shall be forever more.  (Unless I change my mind.)]

"How went the treason?" Chloe asked.  She was waiting on the tarmac, balanced on her crutches with ease in what looked to Cameron like an extremely precarious position.

"The treason went," Cameron said.  This was Chicago.  There was no need to hide anything here.  Let people know that you were a wanted fugitive with a price on your head and a shoot on sight order against you and they'd probably buy you drinks.

The war might be over, Nicolae might have won, but there wasn't a GC loyal soul to be found in the city.  In the ongoing rescue and recovery operations GC forces, the defeated militia, and the underground networks worked together openly, not as a result of Nicolae's reconciliation policy, but because the bomb had incinerated their differences.

They'd all lost someone, and they all knew who was to blame.  Chicago would never be loyal to Nicolae's Global Community.

Cameron looked around and said, "It's nice to be back in the smoldering remains of home."

"The test results hold up: no radiation," Chloe said.

"Still not sure if we have God or the Devil to thank for that little miracle?" Cameron asked.

"We probably never will be."

"And how are you holding up?"

"I'm great.  Once you get the hang of these things," she lifted her crutches a bit, "you're faster than someone with a sprained ankle has any right to be."

Cameron shot her a look.

"I'm serious.  The hard part is moving slowly."

Tsion and Jane had finished talking, and came to join Chloe and Cameron's conversation.

"Do you have a place to stay, rabbi?" Chloe asked.

"I do.  This young woman is remarkable."

Jane blushed.

"She is," Cameron and Chloe said at the same time.

"Well, thanks, but this remarkable young woman has to leave now to try to help Loretta work out the best way to hold a funeral for an entire city," Jane said.

She returned to her car, while Chloe lead Cameron and Tsion to her own.

"I don't envy her," Chloe said.

"How many faiths is Loretta working with?" Cameron asked.

"I don't know how many sub-sects, but I know that there are at least twelve major sects meeting now along with representatives from atheist and agnostic groups."

"Even when everyone acts in good faith, planning interfaith services can be extremely difficult," Tsion said.  "I just hope that they can work things out so that your city can begin to heal soon."

-

[Skewed Slightly to the Left Index]

Left Behind: Who's writing this, anyway?

[Originally posted at Slacktivist.  In response to the idea that the continuity is dependent on who is telling the story though it sort of got sidetracked from that and never really got into in any depth.  The plan was for an artistic piece where the style and such completely shifted based on the character telling it, the result was this.]

Rayford: And then the dashing pilot, who was sexy and manly and looked up to by all, swooped in and saved the day.

Ken: You do realize you're not the one flying this time?

Rayford: Right, forget all that stuff. The pilot was just background.

Ken: I heard that.

Rayford: Buck, you're up.

Buck: We lit the barrel of gas and then I preformed a tricky maneuver that involved spinning the bus one hundred and eighty degrees and bringing it to a complete stop, at the same time, which caused the barrel to fly out of the back, hit the bad guys, and EXPLODE!

Chloe: Um, science.

Buck: Is not in effect because of my powers of manly awesome.

Tsion: (To Chloe) Do you have to deal with this all the time?

Chloe: Pretty much.

Tsion: (To God) What have I done to anger you so, and how might I atone for it and get out of this mess?

Tsion: (To Narrative) I got into the plane without incident.

Buck: And we flew to America.

Ken: The range on a Learjet doesn't actually--

Buck: TO AMERICA.

Ken: Fine, to America.

Buck: I walk into the cockpit, which I can do because I'm cool and connected and--

Ken: Chartering my plane.

Buck: and say, "Cap--"

Ken: What the hell?  Am I Steve Rodgers now?

Buck: I can say "Cap," because I'm friends with everyone and thus don't need to remember their names from one page to the next. I can just make up nicknames on the spot. I say, "How are you doing, Cap?"

Ken: Well I'm apparently in a Budweiser commercial, hence the "How ya doin'?" and my main foil is a badly done knock off of the Old Spice man in that like the Old Spice man he thinks continuity is for other people--I'm on a horse--and yet has none of the charm of the Old Spice man.

Chloe: Oh, he's way worse than that.

Buck: "How you doing, Cap?"

Ken: "Much better now that we're in American airspace," which doesn't exist anymore and is too far from our destination for us to reach, "because before..." what's the silliest thing I could say?

Chloe: "Purple elephants are flying"?

Ken: That might be too silly. (To Buck) Let me start over. “A lot better, now that we’re over American air space. I had no idea what you guys got yourselves into,” because, seriously, who expects someone to be on the run from nonexistent governments as a result of the crime of converting to Christianity without a licence? “and who knew what kind of fighter pilots might have been on my tail.”

Chloe: You do realize that--

Ken: All fighters are now part of the Global Community Air Force, which has standardized its forces such that there's only one kind of fighter left in existence? Yup. Also, my jet could never outrun them.

Chloe: Playing for absurdity points?

Ken: Something like that.

Tsion: I commend you for being able to keep your wits about you in this situation, I swear this is Vogon Poetry.

Nicolae: (From off stage) I NUKE EVERYTHING! I KNOCK OVER THE FUCKING TABLE AND SAY, "YEAH, GOD? HOW YOU GOING TO TRIBIULATE A WORLD THAT'S NOTHING BUT MOLTEN SLAG?" BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Tsion: Is he serious?

Chloe: Unfortunately.

Tsion: What kind of book have I gotten myself into?

Nicolae: An endangered species? BOOM! A historic site? BOOM! A major metropolitan area? BOOM BOOM!

Buck: You know, that reminds me, World War III is still going on.

Chloe: I thought we dropped that arc.

Buck: This is totally World War III.

Chloe: Even though it isn't a world war and ... why do I even bother?

Buck: I say to Cap--

Ken: My name is KEN.

Buck: I say to Cap, “I don’t think we were worth all that, with World War III going on.”

Chloe: I hack into a secret military death-sat using the skills I picked up in my time at university doing things I've never been at liberty to explain. I target a certain Learjet that's recently entered former-American airspace. I look for the heat signature that's in the cockpit but not flying the plane. I kill that person without harming the others.

God: Divine Right Veto. He's one of the main characters.

Chloe: Would you stay out of this?

God: No.

Chloe: Well then could you be useful?

God: No.

Chloe: I convert the entire congregation of New Hope to Christian socialism and mobilize them to do good works in the world. Also, I get myself a Coke. *pause* (Eyeing God) That ok with you?

God: No one ever notices them anyway, so sure.

Hattie: I have wanton sex and enjoy every minute of it.

Nicolae: BOOM!

Hattie: Just, you know, not with him.

Chloe: Good call.

Rayford: When do I get to fly my fully loaded--

Hattie and Chloe: Extremely phallic.

Rayford: --giant plane. I've let you guys have your fun but it's time for everything to center around me again. This book is about me, me, me.

Chloe: I cannot believe that I share half of my genetics with you. I begin to look into the possibility that I'm some sort of science experiment and thus don't have a shred of genetics in common with either of my so called parents.

-

[Left Behind Index]

Skewed Slightly to the Left - Meeting a contact during the War

[Originally posted at Slacktivist (page 3)]

An alarm on Chloe's smartphone went off, she looked at it quickly and swore.  Jason, her assistant, asked, "Problem?"

"World War III picked a bad day to start is all."

"Tell me about it, today was supposed to be my first date."

"Is she ok?"

"He made it to one of the other shelters, yes."

"Sorry.  I didn't-"

"I just get sick of... of..."

"I know.  I can't tell you how I know without breaking three promises and the seal of the confessional, but please believe I have some form of understanding.  Just, you know, don't ask."

"Isn't the confessional Catholic?"

"Yes, don't ask why I was in a Catholic church either."

"Is there anything I can ask you?"

"Yes," Chloe, having spent the conversation trying to remember where the meet her alarm was supposed to remind her of was located, finally did.  "But not right now.  You're in charge.  I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'm in charge?" Jason's voice revealed a hint of panic amid his shock.

Chloe took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes.  "You'll do fine.  There's additional medicine hidden in with the canned goods, and if it comes to that there's guns and ammunition under the false floor.  Remember the false floor?"  Jason nodded.  "But it shouldn't come to that.  And you'll do fine.  I trust you."

-

Roads were clogged with abandoned vehicles, not to mention debris, and if the wrong people saw Chloe sprinting through them she knew she'd be shot without question.  The assumption would be that no innocent person would be out in these conditions.  Regardless of whether or not that was true, Chloe definitely wasn't innocent.

'Sorry, I was just rushing off to meet my black market contact because when I set up this meeting I'd never anticipated I'd be sending my contact into a warzone,' probably wasn't going to help.  But if the contact had shown, and was waiting for her, she had to meet.  She couldn't leave someone waiting in the middle of this.

When she got there she was nearly spent, and could only nod when the contact asked if she was Chloe.

"I'm Donny," he said.

When Chloe was able to speak she said, "I need to catch my breath."  Then added, "Let's talk."  She needed to sit around anyway.

"Ok, I've got a truckload of laptops here, top of the line taken right out of GC inventory."  At the sound of nearby gunfire he added, "You have noticed the war, right."

"Yeah," Chloe said, her breathing still labored.  "But I need a minute before I can get moving again."  After a pause she added, "Thanks for waiting, by the way."

"No problem," Donny said, clearly nervous.

"How'd you get them?" Chloe asked, as much to take his mind of things as for information.

"What?"

"How'd you get the laptops?"

"We faked a failure in the quality control testing, and had the entire line ordered destroyed.  Top of the line products, for free, with no one looking for them because they're not reported stolen.  No one was expecting them, so no one misses them."  Donny was in full salesman mode, his fear evaporating, "and these are top of the line.  No system is immune to damage, no encryption unbreakable, no communications untraceable, but these come as close as close can be because these were made for Nicolae, his top aides, and their top aides.

"These aren't things that you could steal from any Best Buy, these are designed for the movers and shakers.  Your secrets will be as safe as safe can be, your files as secure as secure can be, your communications as close to unbreakable and untraceable as can be.

"Nicolae himself is going to be using the exact same equipment, but his won't be ready for two weeks."

Chloe had her breath back, at least as much as she could afford, and said, "We'll take them.  We just need a place to stow the truck until the streets are clear."

And with that Donny was back into nervous mode, "If we live through this."

"Need a place to hide?" Chloe asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"I've got a bomb shelter."

"I... I can't offer you a discount."

"I'm not asking for one.  Deal closed, it's been a pleasure doing business with you.  I have a bomb shelter and you're invited."

For a moment Donny didn't know what to say, then he said, "Thanks."

Chloe looked around, "I'm just trying to figure out where to put the truck with the goods for safekeeping while we're in the shelter."

Eventually, with the truck in an underground garage and Chloe led Donny on a sprint back to her shelter.  The truth was that New Hope was closer, but there were security procedures to follow, and she promised Jason she'd come back.

-

[Skewed Slightly to the Left Index]

Left Behind Lacunae: The NRA Traffic Jam

[Originally posted at Slacktivist: part 1 here (page 4), parts 2 and 3 here (page 5).  Also posted, in a single part, at the Slacktiverse.]
[A lacuna (plural lacunae) is a gap.  When you're reading an ancient text and you hit a [...] that missing section is a lacuna.  Anyway, the things in bold italics are from the original text of Nicolae: Rise of the Antichrist.]

“This reminds me of when we were first married,” Buck said as Chloe snuggled close to him.

“What do you mean ‘when we were first married’? We’re still newlyweds!”

"I mean the very moment we married.  Remember?  You, me, your father, Amanda, Bruce, and 43 words to describe the whole thing*.  You looked at me and said-"

"I wish we had an author who wasn't Jerry Jenkins."

"Doesn't this feel exactly like that?"

"Yeah, I guess it does."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"I was thinking of maybe seeing if we could head down to NORAD, boot up the WOPR and avert World War III."

"That sounds like a good plan, but I feel Jenkins turning back this way."

"Please, no more misogyny.  Please, no more misogyny."

“Shh!” Buck said quickly. “What’re they saying about New York City?”

Chloe turned up the radio. “… devastating carnage everywhere here in the heart of Manhattan. Bombed-out buildings, emergency vehicles picking their way through debris, Civil Defense workers pleading with people over loudspeakers to stay underground.”

-
-

Buck was waved at, pointed at, and hollered at by traffic cops, and he was honked at and obscenely gestured at by other motorists.

Suddenly one of them got out of her car and stood in front of the Lincoln.  Buck slammed on the breaks and the car came to a stop a few feet in front of her.

"Hi, I'm obscenely gesturing motorist number 23."

"Hi, Obscenely 23," Chloe said warmly.

"I know I'm not supposed to matter, but the thing is... I'd rather live and it seems like yours is the only car that's allowed to get through traffic."

"Hop in," Buck said.

He could feel the pressure of the narrative saying that he shouldn't be helping people.  He could feel the story crying out that he wasn't supposed to care.  He knew that Jerry Jenkins would be shocked and outraged if he knew about this act of basic human decency.

He was not deterred.

-

“So what’re you gonna do, buy a tank?”

“If it wasn’t so conspicuous, I just might.”

Buck corrected himself, "Weren't.  If it weren't so conspicuous.  I went to school for a long damn time so that I could properly use the subjunctive, but no, I'm written by some idiot who doesn't understand a simple contrary to fact conditional."

"I feel your pain." Chloe said. "When was the last time I got to use my education?"

"You know, if it's all the same to you, I think I would like a tank," Obscenely 23 said.

"Really?" Chloe asked, "Because the gas mileage is kinda crap."

"I don't think this is the kind of story where those details matter, so if you could drop me off at the tank store I'll pick one up," Obscenely 23 said.

"No problem," Buck said.

-
--
-

* As a sort of bookkeeping note, in response to the 43 word wedding I wrote five short pieces of my own.  The first was written when I misread it as 47 words and can be found here.  The next four were of the correct length.  They are here.

-

[Left Behind Index]

Skewed Slightly to the Left: Cameron and Chloe during the war

[Originally posted at Slacktivist (page 4).]
[In the actual books Buck has a brother, not a sister.  I misremembered.]
[This would take place during the previous one, in one of the breaks.]

-

Verna approached the office Cameron had gone to to make a private call, he wasn't the only one who'd wanted to take a moment to contact family or friends.  Without actually doing any arranging they'd taken time to make such contact in shifts, never more than a few at a time doing that instead of working on the news.

As she approached she could hear Cameron talking, "I should have told you all this a year and a half ago, but I've been under surveillance and thought I could do more good by appearing loyal.  At this point that doesn't matter anymore."

There was a long pause.

"I don't expect to see you again and..." another pause, "I love you.  Please think about what I said, and stay safe.  Things are going to get a lot worse, so just..."  he sighed.  "So please be careful."

Another pause.

"And I was the one who stole your My Little Pony tapes.  Sorry about that.  Been wanting to apologize for decades but was too embarrassed to admit to it, but if this is the end I figured I should say I'm sorry.  So, I'm sorry, I love you, be safe."

He hung up and Verna asked, "Voicemail?"

"Voicemail," Cameron confirmed.  "What's up?"

"There's world shattering news coming in, and I'll get to that, but first I have to ask..."

"Yeah?"

"My Little Pony?"

Cameron smiled, "Most subversive thing I did in my life before Serbia."

"What happened in Serbia, anyway?"

"I was stupider than most people say, but it turned out better than most people think.  Credit goes almost entirely to my cameraman, and what doesn't go to him goes to, and this seems weirdly appropriate given that My Little Pony is what got us here, a twelve year old girl.  I originally though she was an orphan because, you know... but it turned out she was just doing it out of the kindness of her heart.  Her tiny, tiny heart.  I swear she looked younger than twelve."

"You're not going to tell me," Verna said.

"No."  Cameron glanced down.  "Nice shoes."

"Thanks."  She gestured toward the newsroom, " The end of the world beckons."

-

Chloe kept going back and forth between thinking that the shelter was impressively large given that they'd only had 18 months to build it, and thinking it incredibly small given the need that they'd have to fill.

If the coming war was to be nuclear they'd never be able to shelter everyone who needed sheltering, even if it weren't they couldn't hope to treat everyone in need of medical treatment.  Hopefully existing hospitals would survive and do most of the work and they'd only have to deal with the excess.

If the war weren't nuclear it would mean that the year and a half she'd spent pouring sweat, blood, and even the occasional tear into making the thing seemed wasted.  They'd have been able to do much more if their standard hadn't been one keyed to surviving a nuclear war.  On the other hand, if it weren't nuclear, wouldn't that be worth celebrating in itself, regardless of how things might have been?

Of course it was, but the waste would still be discouraging.  Planning for the worst meant that if the worst didn't happen more might have been saved by doing something else, so even if things turned out better than expected there would be little to celebrate.

Still, she'd built this shelter with her own hands, scavenged, bought and stolen the supplies to stock it herself.  She hadn't done the construction alone, but she had done it.  Now the time was coming when it would be needed.  And she wasn't going to let it go to waste.  She checked and double checked that everything was in order.  She made sure that the volunteers knew their roles, and she prepared to do battle with the second horse of the apocalypse.

-

[Skewed Slightly to the Left Index]

NRA: My arm is tired

[Originally posted at Slacktivst.]
[The background is that everyone puts their hands on Rayford, and keep them there as he navigates the lesser known streets of Chicago in an attempt to get around the traffic jam created by World War III.  And as time goes on (and on, and on) the hands remain there.  Even though keeping your hand on the driver's shoulder isn't the most comfortable thing if you're in the back seat on the non-driver's side.  (Which someone had to be.)]
[Everything in italics is from the actual book.]

Rayford busied himself maneuvering his way through the incongruous traffic jams. Why were people out?  What did-

"Dad."

-they expect to see? Weren't they afraid of more bombs, or fallout?

“I need to get to the Chicago bureau office,” Buck said.

“You can use the car after we get to the church,” Rayford managed. “I need to get the word out about Bruce.”

"Dad."

Rayford relied on his many years in the Chicago area-

"Dad"

-to use back roads and side streets to get around the major thoroughfares, which were hopelessly clogged.

[...]

Rayford wondered if he should have taken Buck up on his offer to drive.

"Dad."

But Rayford had not wanted to appear weak.

[...]

Rayford knew-

"Dad."

-his life could be even worse.

[...]

He could hardly imagine not having come to know and love Bruce Barnes.

"First off, that's not at all slash inducing.  Second: Dad."

He had learned more and been enlightened and inspired more by Bruce than anyone else he'd ever met.

"Nice to know that I'm not inspiring, but seriously I have something to say."

And it wasn't just Bruce's knowledge and teaching that made the
difference.

"Dad..."

It was his passion.

"DAD!"

(Annoyed:) "What?"

"This is a really awkward and uncomfortable position and my arm's been protesting for a while now.  I'm tired and achy and I'd really like to stop putting my hand on your shoulder.  Have you reached the point where I can stop reassuring you without you collapsing into a crying ball, or must this discomfort continue?

"Also, the guys with the guns, you know: the two guards by the overpass, they seem to be waving at you.  Or possibly pointing and laughing about the guy who can't drive a car without three people holding him from different angles, but I think it's them trying to get your attention."

-

[Left Behind Index]

[Correction, this is a Nicolae Rise of the Antichrist (NRA) post, not a Tribulation Force post.  Welcome to the new book.]