halos form on each of its sides. I proclaim to the silhouettes, “I’m here to help you.” The entity grabs my sleeve and pulls me quickly inside.
My eyes adjust to the light filling this cave as my ear’s
fill with, “Who are you, and what do you want?” I sense the
fear in her voice while observing her draw the two tattered Angels close. This beautiful dirty woman commands, “We will not take the brand no matter what you do to us!” My spirit forces me to stand motionless at attention in reverence to her amazing courage. My soul romantically utters a firm soft, “God bless you.” A deathly embrace follows as her joyfully squeezing forces the air out of me. She whispers in my ear “You’re really here to help!” I reply, “Yes, I am.” She responds, “You used the word God.” She abruptly reseals the entrance door now that she feels completely safe.
I look around as she moves back. She hurries to remove the clutter hiding her dining table with one arm, as the other waves towards me to come and sit. Her face turns back to sadness with worry. I stare around this one large room resembling a sort of home. I shift my way over and around the clutter, and then sit as she commanded. She sniffles out, “My husband went to look for food two days ago. I don’t know what happened to him?” I sit unresponsive thinking I don’t dare inquirer about him. I realize now he may have been the man being dragged away. I don’t think revealing this news would help either of us in any way.
“My name is Joey. Believe it or not, a little bird told me where to find you.” Her hands begin fumbling with their fingernails, as a slight smile makes a disbelieving “Uhnt uhnt” sound. “I’m Katie. This is Jordan, my big boy-who’s five, and my darling Hanna-three. We moved in here three years ago. This used to be the supply room for my husband’s garage.” She continues to volunteer all aspects of her daily life as a secure feeling comforts the children enough to begin playing.
I ask her how they get their electricity for the lights. Katie explains how her husband installed several wind
generators that he hid in the trees behind the garage. This underground store room seems to have been protected from the EMP burst, and where he got the supplies needed for his electrical project. This system utilizes auto generators,
batteries, wire, and PVC pipe. He ingenuously cut some fan
blades from some PVC pipe he found in the building, and
then hooked it all together to make small electrical producing “windmill” generators. Her husband also made artificial light bulbs to light the interior. They’re simply clear plastic two liter soda bottles filled with water to magnify the sunlight. The bottles are angled downward and stick through the tops of the wall on the sunny side of the building. I ask her, “How is the light inside hid from being seen outside; especially at night?” Her husband used the black removable stands that came on the bottom of the bottles and cut them in half. She tells me that he hung it just under the exterior part of the protruding bottle. This hides any escaping light from this chamber while hiding the bottle from the line of sight of anyone outside. Light comes in, but it doesn’t go out. They even have a table top garden inside that utilizes the pumped in light. This also helps make fresh air at the same time. He seems like my kind of guy.
After several minutes sharing information I ask Katie if she was a Christ follower. She tells me she is not, but she wants to know all about Him. Katie explains, “I’ve seen the evil in “Trinity,” so I know there must be good somewhere. She reminds me, “You can’t have one without the other. I always ask my husband to find a Bible on his food missions.” I pull the spare I brought and hand it to her. I
My eyes adjust to the light filling this cave as my ear’s
fill with, “Who are you, and what do you want?” I sense the
fear in her voice while observing her draw the two tattered Angels close. This beautiful dirty woman commands, “We will not take the brand no matter what you do to us!” My spirit forces me to stand motionless at attention in reverence to her amazing courage. My soul romantically utters a firm soft, “God bless you.” A deathly embrace follows as her joyfully squeezing forces the air out of me. She whispers in my ear “You’re really here to help!” I reply, “Yes, I am.” She responds, “You used the word God.” She abruptly reseals the entrance door now that she feels completely safe.
I look around as she moves back. She hurries to remove the clutter hiding her dining table with one arm, as the other waves towards me to come and sit. Her face turns back to sadness with worry. I stare around this one large room resembling a sort of home. I shift my way over and around the clutter, and then sit as she commanded. She sniffles out, “My husband went to look for food two days ago. I don’t know what happened to him?” I sit unresponsive thinking I don’t dare inquirer about him. I realize now he may have been the man being dragged away. I don’t think revealing this news would help either of us in any way.
“My name is Joey. Believe it or not, a little bird told me where to find you.” Her hands begin fumbling with their fingernails, as a slight smile makes a disbelieving “Uhnt uhnt” sound. “I’m Katie. This is Jordan, my big boy-who’s five, and my darling Hanna-three. We moved in here three years ago. This used to be the supply room for my husband’s garage.” She continues to volunteer all aspects of her daily life as a secure feeling comforts the children enough to begin playing.
I ask her how they get their electricity for the lights. Katie explains how her husband installed several wind
generators that he hid in the trees behind the garage. This underground store room seems to have been protected from the EMP burst, and where he got the supplies needed for his electrical project. This system utilizes auto generators,
batteries, wire, and PVC pipe. He ingenuously cut some fan
blades from some PVC pipe he found in the building, and
then hooked it all together to make small electrical producing “windmill” generators. Her husband also made artificial light bulbs to light the interior. They’re simply clear plastic two liter soda bottles filled with water to magnify the sunlight. The bottles are angled downward and stick through the tops of the wall on the sunny side of the building. I ask her, “How is the light inside hid from being seen outside; especially at night?” Her husband used the black removable stands that came on the bottom of the bottles and cut them in half. She tells me that he hung it just under the exterior part of the protruding bottle. This hides any escaping light from this chamber while hiding the bottle from the line of sight of anyone outside. Light comes in, but it doesn’t go out. They even have a table top garden inside that utilizes the pumped in light. This also helps make fresh air at the same time. He seems like my kind of guy.
After several minutes sharing information I ask Katie if she was a Christ follower. She tells me she is not, but she wants to know all about Him. Katie explains, “I’ve seen the evil in “Trinity,” so I know there must be good somewhere. She reminds me, “You can’t have one without the other. I always ask my husband to find a Bible on his food missions.” I pull the spare I brought and hand it to her. I
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