It wasn't her. No, it had to be the little-miss-perfect-in-every-way that every man went for. Judd did not love Nada. Instead, he loved Vicki Elizabeth Byrne.
And Nada was upset. Not because he loved Vicki - the sweet, beautiful, Christlike, charismatic, patient, gentle, loving Vicki...okay, maybe she was a little jealous. But that wasn't why she was upset. Nada was angry at herself for believing a lie, a fairy tale that she would be swept off her feet by a man, that he would love her back, that she would live happily ever after.
The irony of it all made her laugh.
Here she was, not going to live ever after, let alone happily ever after. She was about to die. The man that had swept her off her feet was in love with someone else, and the fairy tale was so screwed up that she wanted to cry.
Nada, being her normal stubborn self, had decided to not keep Judd and Vicki apart, but instead, she had been arrested, beaten, verbally abused, and threatened by the Global Community. Judd, Lionel, and two other men - Conrad and Mark - had tried to rescue her and Natalie. Natalie had been an inside contact for believers from inside the GC. After being caught on video helping believers to escape, she herself had been imprisoned, and she refused to yield to the devil's advocates.
When the men came for a rescue, they had only managed to spring Natalie before the guards came running. The other men sent Judd with Natalie, promising to make it back to Wisconsin. Nada laughed bitterly, her face pressed between the cell bars. She knew it wasn't a promise that could be kept.
Nada paced her cell on the brink of insanity, and then she heard her saving grace: boot heels clacking against the linoleum floor.
A bulky man stopped in front of her cell and opened the door. "Judah-ite," the guard said, handcuffing her, "you ready to face the blade?"
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Mark leaned against the wall of his extremely uncomfortable and stuffy 7'4" cell he shared with Conrad and Lionel. He had looked for any way to escape. After he was first arrested, he rendered the guard unconscious, jumped out the already smashed window, and broke his leg upon impact. The prison doctors just gave him a tourniquet to help the bleeding. And as he kept thinking, every thought, every word came back to her. And he couldn't stop.
"I love her," he thought aloud.
Both Conrad and Lionel looked up. "Who?" Conrad asked, standing up.
Mark, still thinking, hadn't even heard Conrad's question. "Vicki. I love Vicki."
Conrad and Lionel exchanged glances.
Mark, realizing what he had just said and not thought, began explaining himself. "I know she loves Judd. I have known it since the first day I met them. And you'd think-" Mark shook his head and laughed bitterly. "You'd think I would respect that. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't mean that I am not in love with Vick. It doesn't matter that Judd is one of my best friends! If I see Vicki show a sliver of less love than she had for him before, I will gladly swoop in on my white horse and take her away." Mark scratched his ear. "But I know she won't. Which is why..." Mark clenched his jaw.
"Which is why you sent Judd on ahead instead of yourself," Lionel finished. "Because even if Judd did die, Vicki wouldn't look for another man to take his place. She would just wait until the Glorious Appearing."
Mark nodded.
Conrad placed a hand on Mark's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man." Conrad thought it was worse to be in love with someone who was not in love with you than to love someone who was dead. Of course, he refrained from saying it out loud because he knew it was not the little ray of sunshine Mark needed.
There was a bang on the cell door, and all three men jumped. The guard's chubby red face (Mark couldn't tell if it was because he was still pissed at Mark for knocking him unconscious or if it just was normally like that) looked in. "Mark Eisman?"
Mark's face went pale, his knees went weak, his mouth went dry, and he was 100% positive that he was going to be beheaded. "Yes, sir?"
"We have been informed of your release."
Mark let out a huge breath of air, and now his knees were weak out of relief.
"Your friends, however..."
Mark's voice was tight. "What?"
The guard flipped the page, smiled, and looked up with a smug smirk. "Looks like they'll be getting the blade."
/////////////////////////////////////////
Conrad stared at the back of Nada's head. Darrion, whom he thought of as his little sister, had begged him not to do this, but he had just ignored her. She had been right. Again.
Conrad was tired of this war he had been waging since the day he had accepted Christ. Friends, dead. Homes, lost. Jobs, unavailable.
The love of his life: murdered in front of him.
He was sick of it. He didn't want to fight anymore.
For a brief moment, Conrad thought about giving it all up. Renouncing the name of God. God was what had made his life so hard in the first place, wasn't it? He didn't want to hide in the shadows. He wanted to just stop running.
"Then come," a voice echoed in his head. The moment of doubt passed, and Conrad looked up.
He was ready to lay down his life for Christ.
/////////////////////////////////////////
Lionel was led to the guillotine first. "Shame," Fulcire, the head officer of the United North American States, said. "You seemed like a charming fellow."
"Huh, so did you."
Fulcire huffed and rolled his eyes. "Going to heaven with your precious Jesus." He laughed. "Send me a postcard."
Just wait a year, and you will get a good one, Lionel thought. Thousands of other replies ran through his head. Instead of the sarcastic comments, he sang. "There are no strangers, there are no outcasts, there are no orphans of God! So many fallen, but halleluiah..."
"Good Lord, I hate Judah-ites." Fulcire tripped the lever.
Lionel saw a blinding light.
And he was in the presence of God.
/////////////////////////////////////////
Judd sat with Vicki, watching the deaths of some of his best friends. Some people (namely Chad) blamed Judd for their deaths. Only Vicki remained silent.
When Lionel was beheaded, Vicki cried into his already soaked shirt. Judd didn't want to watch anyone else die, let alone his ex-girlfriend. But something told him to watch.
"This charade is over," Fulcire said as Nada was led to the guillotine.
Conrad struggled against the guard holding him. "This is your god! Killing innocent people for not believing what they do? You support that? You support the killing of innocent people? You can kill any number of us you please, but we will never yield to Lucifer and his advocates!"
"Just shut up," Fulcire said.
Judd very desperately wanted to punch Fulcire within an inch of his life, but instead, he watched Nada's look of peace as she mentally prepared herself to die.
"Any last words?"
Nada looked down, mumbling a prayer in Hebrew. She looked up, tears staining her dirty cheeks. "I'll make it because He carries me."
Fulcire laughed hard at that. "Putting your blind faith into a blind God didn't work out so well for you, sweetheart."
The blade plummeted down.
All Judd could do was watch.
////////////////////////////////////////
Darrion watched as the man she considered her older brother defied the Global Community. "Do you not see what they do? Do you not see that they are sadistic, cruel tyrants? You bastards don't understand what you've done by swearing allegiance to him! You support the devil! And you won't ever stop! Are you honestly that sick?"
////////////////////////////////////////
Fulcire swore and unholstered his pistol. "The blade won't kill him fast enough."
"Shoot," Conrad dared. "I have a God to see."
Fulcire cursed again and cocked his pistol. "Shut up for once!"
Conrad lifted his chin and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Carpathia is not God! He is the devil himself!"
"Good riddance," Fulcire said, squeezing the trigger.
Conrad's head snapped back. Pain shot through every inch of his body. Memories flashed through his head:
Laughing with his brother.
Kissing his love.
Teasing Darrion.
Accepting Christ.
Holding little Ryan Victor.
He collapsed.
A hand was pulling him out of this world and into another.
That hand was God's.