Free Hunted by Jerry B. Jenkins

staring at him.
    Sam resisted the urge to scream, but his eyes widened and his heart raced furiously. Sam was sure he had never seen this stranger. He wore sandals, a long, flowing robe, had a short beard and piercing eyes. He had no mark, either of the true believer or of Carpathia.
    Sam kept his eyes on the man and sat up. “Is it time for us to go?” he whispered.
    â€œYes.” The man’s voice was deep, and something about it made Sam want to trust him.
    â€œAre you taking us to the transport?”
    The man shook his head.
    â€œThen why are you here?”
    â€œI come in the name of the Lord our God. He is strong and mighty to save. Though the evil one is set on the destruction of the people of God, he will not touch you. There are many praying for you and your friends.”
    Sam wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He fell out of bed and onto his knees. Tears streaked his cheeks. “I’m not worthy for the Lord to take such an interest in me. Others have died. Why should I be saved?”
    Sam felt a hand touch his face, lifting him up. The angel stood next to him, the cell door still closed. “Write these things as an encouragement to those around the world, young one. Tell of the Lord’s mighty deeds and give praise to the one who lifts those who are weary of heart.”
    â€œYou mean my diary—yes, I will.” The angel’s touch ignited a fire inside Sam, and he couldn’t wait to tell Judd and the others. Sam looked at the cell door. They still had to get away from the jail without any guards noticing. And how would they tell Mac about needing a ride without the cell phone?
    â€œDo not let your heart be troubled,” the angel said. “Trust in God and the one he has sent to protect you.”
    Sam nodded weakly. He recalled the story of the apostle Peter being set free by an angel while Peter was chained to two sleeping guards. If God could do that, surely he could help Sam and the others escape.
    â€œAwaken your friend and I will get the others,” the angel said. “We must leave quickly.”
    Sam put a hand on Mr. Stein’s shoulder and shook him gently. He opened his eyes and gave Sam a startled look. “Have they come for us?”
    â€œYes,” Sam said, “but not the guards. God has sent someone to rescue us.” He pointed at the man who had moved to Aron’s cell. There was a metal clank on the floor as handcuffs fell from his wrists.
    Aron rubbed his wrists and stood. The angel spoke from the hall and without moving so much as a finger, the door swung open and Aron stepped outside.
    Sam reached for their cell door, and it unlatched as if someone had flipped a switch in another room. Mr. Stein and Sam moved into the hall as the angel awakened the other believers and motioned to them to get up. Sam and Mr. Stein edged as close to the angel as they could as he approached the main door. In spite of the noise of the six inmates walking out of their cells, the others kept snoring.
    The main door opened as noiselessly as the cell doors. Sam walked into a holding area, where a guard sat slumped in a chair and another leaned forward on a desk, his hat covering his face. The angel pointed to a shelf above the sleeping guards, and Sam spotted their cell phone in a plastic bag. The angel nodded, and Sam grabbed it.
    Each door opened for them as if it were automatic. When they reached the street, they found a sleek minivan parked in front. Sabir got out, smiling, and welcomed the six. Sam turned to thank the angel, but he had vanished like a vapor.
    Sam couldn’t hold back his praise. “We thank you, O God, for your protection and your love for us,” he said, his arms outstretched toward heaven.
    â€œCome,” Mr. Stein said. “We will thank God once we are on our way.”
    Sabir explained that he had been awakened from a dead sleep and told to come to the GC station. “I got in