Free Nicolae High by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Page B

know what Christians are called during this period.”
    “You mean tribulation saints?”
    The two looked at each other and smiled. They extended their hands. “John,” the blond said.
    “Mark,” the other said.
    “You’re kidding, right?” Judd said. “John and Mark?”
    “We’re cousins.”
    “But I mean—”
    “We know what you mean. Yeah, we were named after the disciples. Churchgoers all our lives. We lost everybody in our family except one aunt. We’re living with her and going to a church in Arlington Heights. What’s your story?”
    Judd ran it down quickly. Then, “Gotta go, but let’s talk again. We should get our church groups together sometime.”
    “That’s for sure,” John said. “Especially if they’re not going to even let us carry our Bibles to school. Coach Handlesman said we might not even get them back.”
    “What? You’re kidding!”
    They shook their heads.
    “Are we going to be in a police state or what?” Judd said.
    “It’s like martial law,” Mark said.
    Judd waved as he headed toward Current History. “See ya tomorrow.”
    “Yeah,” John called after him, “if we’re still free men.”
    “Not funny, John!” came the gruff voice of Coach Handlesman.
    Judd began to wonder if he and Vicki, and even John and Mark, should be more covert and lie low. It was one thing to be a bold witness, but if they got kicked out or were known as dangerous people to be seen with, what good would they be?
    His history teacher, an old spinster named Miss June, looked as if she had been through a war. Normally tidy and fastidious, today she looked disheveled. Her shoes were scuffed, her blouse wrinkled, her hair pinned in place without much thought. Her fingers trembled, and she sat behind her desk rather than standing as usual.
    “Well, class, I have been through some things in my day, but I never would have dreamed that hearing everyone’s stories would have been nearly as traumatic as experiencing this tragedy one’s self. I’m wondering if you might agree that we have had enough talk on this subject by now, and perhaps we can talk about the rest of the quarter.”
    No one said anything.
    “All right then?” she said.
    “Um, no,” a boy said from the back row. “What’s to talk about? You’re going to streamline the course because of the time we missed, and we’ll start getting assignments tomorrow. What else is there?”
    “We could talk about what we’re going to be studying,” she said.
    “We already know that. Current History is current history. Let’s talk about who’s not coming back to this class.”
    Miss June pursed her lips and gave the boy a disgusted look. She studied her attendance printout, but when she began announcing the names of seven students who were either confirmed disappeared (four), whereabouts unknown (one), and ill (two), her voice broke. Soon she could not continue.
    “What in the world is wrong, Miss June?” a girl said. “How many people did you lose?”
    But she could not speak. She just pressed a hand to her mouth and shook her head.
    “This I’ve got to hear,” the boy behind Judd said, and Judd glared at him.
    “Give her a break,” he said. “If you didn’t lose anybody, at least be sensitive to those of us who did.”
    The boy pantomimed as if playing a violin.
    “Can we talk about it among ourselves?” a girl said. Miss June nodded. “Because I know it wasn’t a religious thing.”
    “We’re not supposed to talk about that!”
    “Oh, who’s going to stop us?” the girl said. “Anyway, I’m saying it wasn’t that. How can they have a problem with that?”
    Judd’s resolve to keep quiet disappeared. “You know it wasn’t a religious thing?” he said.
    “That’s right,” she said. “Not one person in my church disappeared. So what does that tell you?”
    “That you don’t believe in Jesus!” a husky guy in the back called out, and several laughed, including him.
    “But we do!” she said. “We all