down onto the inner floor. It was rather dark, the quarter moon and slightly clouded sky, shined a dim bit of light to illuminate the hall I had broken into. I didn’t see any lights on the second floor as I quietly made my way to the stairs that led to the warehouse floor. The stairs were on one side on an overhanging walkway, and had open railings. I went over to the railings and surveyed the floor and side offices. The floor was empty except for a few discarded crates and debris. I made my way down the steel stairs, keeping my progress subdued and cautious. At the bottom of the stairs I saw a dim light in a back, side office, barely more illuminated than that light coming from the overhead ceiling windows. Looking at the front of the building, I noticed a quick silhouette sneak a look by one of our gang took to see my progression. I made my way across the floor, suppressing a sneeze as I inadvertently kicked up the thick settled dust. I leaned my back against the wall when I neared the office. I eased my way to an office window and looked in. I saw what could be Alain, hunched over a desk, with his rifle leaned up next to him against the desk. I eased the door open, hoping it would not creak from rust. As I stuck my gun hand in, a surprise broomstick knocked my arm down and the gun clattered to the floor. Alain quickly used the broomstick to snake around my neck and spun me inside the room and kicked the door shut. He placed his left index finger to his lips in the universal shut up signal, and waved the gun in his right hand, which replaced the dropped broomstick, to signify I take the seat next to the dummy at the desk. “I don’t know you,” he stated in low tones, “but you will be my captive audience until I am gunned down by your compatriots.” “Sh, don’t talk just listen, I don’t have much time left.” He interrupted my attempt to comment with a commanding poke of his gun. “I know I failed the assassination task and this sentenced me to death, especially when I caused Louis to be captured. “I knew it would only be a matter of time before you caught up to me and killed me.” He reached down and picked up my gun from the floor. He set it close to me on the desk, just out of convenient reach.” “But my soul needs to give testimony; I need to make a public confession of my faith before I meet my maker, Lord Jesus, which you will hasten.” I was stunned; I could not believe what I was hearing. This man was a multiple murderer and his last act on earth was to tell me he ached to talk religion? “I know you cannot believe what I am telling you, but the Spirit of God has told me to tell you my story and testimony. “I had a loving mother and father, both who were killed in a ferry sinking during a violent storm. My brother, sisters and I were with them and rescued, but I was only thirteen and devastated. How could the loving God I heard about in church take both of my parents and leave us kids. My brother and sisters and I were taken to my grandfather on his farm. He was alone, for our grandmother had died the year before. One spring day, not three months from the tragedy of the loss of our parents, a sudden thunderstorm caught us out in the field. We ran back to the barn to return our tools when the lightening that flashed all over the heavens between humongous black clouds cracked a loud boom and ignited the hay loft and roof. We were all knocked to the ground. My grandfather struck his head on the anvil and it split open. We were panicked and ran to the door, but the fire had exploded some barrels stored in the loft. Burning oil poured over the door and my brother as he tried to open it. The lightening strike had broken the main rafter and contorted the doorway so that the door was jammed. My sisters screamed as I tried to put him out by tearing off my shirt, knocking him down and covering him. The fire had engulfed the entire barn. The burning loft fell on my sisters who had pulled back when I was rolling my burning brother on the ground. It was then that my grandfather’s hired hand who had been working a farther field broke open the door from the outside with the pick axe he had been working with. He was able to pull me by my pant legs, my shirt stuck under my brother who lay unconscious on the floor. Before he could return to attempt a rescue, the blazing roof collapsed and covered the body. My sisters were not only buried under the loft, but the roof on top of that. With another thunderous boom, lightening struck an ancient oak and split it down the center. At the same instance the clouds unleashed a torrent of rain. It slowly put out the barn that was a roaring inferno. But the deluge did not save my brother or my sisters. I cursed the God who took my parents and shortly robbed me of the rest of my family. He controlled the winds and clouds. Storms had taken all of my family. My grandfather’s farm was mortgaged to the hilt, and I was left destitute.