Siege of the Remnant by Stefne Miller

Author:Stefne Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: futuristic christian fiction, spiritual warfare novel, Christian Fiction Dystopian, christian fiction spiritual warfare, Christian fiction holocaust
Publisher: Stefne Miller
Published: 2020-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

24

Lincoln

Darkness floods the ghetto.

This is the most depressing time of every night. The mall is mostly silent, apart from the usual whimpering and sniffles accompanying the cries of those who have bedded down for the night and have had time to think about the day and remember why they’re here.

I carefully crawl out of the booth so as not to wake Lily, tiptoe down the hall past Chris, Kace and Sofie and take my place on the floor beside the exit doors.

Almost on cue, my new nightly visitor arrives.

Dust and grime collect on my cheek as the skin presses to the tile, but by this point, I’m so covered in filth, the dinginess doesn’t faze me. The dirt granules press into my skin, and a small, jagged stone presses into my temple. The pain is a simple reminder that although I’m looking through one eye out into the free world, I’m still here. Inside. A prisoner for over five months now.

The air is calm and cold. My nose is running because of the wind. If I inspected myself in a mirror, I would imagine the tip of my nose would be blush red. Perhaps the only color on my now pale-white skin. I’d guess my red freckles have faded into obscurity.

“Silent night. Holy night...” the shadow sings. “All is calm. All is bright...”

Tonight, her song isn’t as lively as the ones she’s sung over the last month. Songs about mountains and valleys. Songs about fountains flowing deep and wide. A song about little feet watching where they go.

Tonight, she’s more solemn. “... Holy infant, so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace....”

Her voice lulls me to a near sleep, but suddenly stops and moves closer.

I pull away from the door and watch the shadow grow larger.

I lift my ear from the ground and listen.

Heavy boots run toward the door.

I pull farther away, worried she’s spotted me, and they’ll force me to end my nightly visual escapes outside our prison.

A thin sheet of paper slides under the door and comes to rest under my shoulder. Then another, and another. In a matter of seconds, several sheets puddle below me.

As quickly as the shadow appeared, it disappears and the singing ends. I’m nearly crushed.

I lift myself onto my elbows and make sure nobody witnessed what happened, scoop up the papers, and rush back to the security of the photo booth.

Once inside and situated beside a sleeping Lily, I shut the curtain, shove the papers under my sleeping bag, check outside to ensure nobody is approaching, and remove the first sheet I touch and hold it up to the small amount of light seeping between the floor and the curtain.

The pages are from the holy texts, but I don’t recognize the book. Luke. It’s one I’ve never seen before.

On one side of the page, the heading announces: Birth of Jesus Foretold.

Jesus. A name my parents told me about many years ago.

He’s never mentioned during assembly. All I know about him is he is the son of the Almighty, and he gave up his life to show the Almighty’s love for humanity.

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