Following the Third War, Christians survived by forming groups of pairs. Worshipping, praising and prayers were all done quietly, because the Christians did not want to attract the attention of the Ruling Armed Militia (RAM). General “Doubting” Thomas, Supreme Leader of the RAM, nicknamed the paired Christians The Doublecrossers.
Every morning as he inspected the RAM troops, General Thomas screamed with loathing hatred, “Them Doublecrossers will pay for their treachery!”
“Yes, sir!” All the men agreed in unison.
“One day they will bow down to me!”
“We will hunt them to every corner of our Territory!
“They will never, never, never escape!”
“Go! Go! Go get them!”
In one accord, a cacophony of shouts rose up from all of RAM, raising their fists and weapons.
My little sister and I wandered the streets, weak from malnutrition and lack of any decent water. A pair of The Doublecrossers risked their lives by protecting us in one of their Safe Houses. We were so thankful for the bags of crumbs they managed to scrape up and sacrifice for us. As we shoved food into our mouths, we heard RAM trucks approaching, echoing down the empty city street. With a rusty squeal, the trucks stopped and three dozen RAM troops disembarked, with weapons at-the-ready. Using hand signals, a dozen RAM troops approached the Safe House.
Immediately The Doublecrossers whisked us into a hidden closet, and motioned us to be absolutely quiet.
One tough RAM militia spoke up, “Last time we were here we found some tracks in the dust.”
“Where did you see this, soldier?”
The old wooden stairs creaked as the RAM soldiers stormed upward.
“First bedroom on the right.”
Crumbs. Dust. Lots of dust. I had to tell them. I whispered, “My sister has allergies.”
“Did you hear that?”
“I think so.”
“Downstairs now, you fools! Go check it out.”
As the stairs crunched again as the RAM soldiers stormed back downstairs, my little sister sneezed again.
“I heard it again.”
“Back there in the kitchen area.”
Silently The Doublecrossers prayed portions of Psalm 91, trusting the Lord would protect them, as He did so many times before.
Instantly one the RAM troops radios blared.
“We got a hot one—a kid running into the alley two blocks down. Get out here now!”
“We need you out here now! We’re in full pursuit.”
As the doors slammed, glass crashed on the floor.
“Achoo! I’m so, so sorry.” My little sister started crying.
“It’s okay, sis. God protected us. What were you praying, anyway?”
Dan The Doublecrosser spoke up. “Psalm 91. Verses 1 through 8.
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.
Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.
He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.
Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;
Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.
Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.
Just as Dan recited the end of Verse 8, a child appeared through the kitchen. “This is David The Doublecrosser. He faces the RAM giants and gets them to chase him. In their hatred and anger, they often follow him into the sewers—or as we call it—the catacombs. Sometimes the RAM troops get lost and do not find their way out.”
Dan The Doublecrosser added, “Starving men are easy to preach to. Many have repented and turned to Christ.”
“That’s amazing. Thank God!” Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Dan. “Is there any hope for General Thomas?”
“As long as there is breath, there is hope. As he shouts his hatred every morning, we’re all praying for his salvation.”
“It’s all about love. Jesus died for General Thomas, too.”
I felt compelled to ask him, “Were you one of the RAM militia, Dan?”
“Yes, I was.”
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