In an America destroyed by war and sunk in depravity, scavenger Paul is rescued by Rebecca, a member of the Believer Tribe, and needs healing in both body and soul. Will she be able to overcome the turmoil about her own path of service as well as her feelings for Paul, and lead him to the truth of the Gospel before his radical ideas disrupt the tribe and threaten their evangelical mission?
Here is a section from the beginning of God’s Tribe. It’s when Paul and Becca first meet:
Paul untied the strip of blanket that kept him warm and from falling out of the tree while asleep.
He shoved it into his pack and yawned. The pink of dawn faded to a gray overcast sky that threatened rain. He could smell it in the air. He’d need to find a better shelter.
A crunch of leaves on the ground warned him someone or something approached, and his senses
pulsed to high alert. He squatted on the balls of his feet, ready to leap and run. With one hand resting on the trunk, he grasped his pack with the other, muscles bunched as he crouched on a large branch. The cover of leaves from the great old oak hid all but glimpses of the surrounding area as a soft breeze stirred the foliage about.
“Hey, are you okay?” A female voice from behind him at the foot of the oak nearly made him
fall off the branch.
He gripped an overhanging limb to steady his balance, his heart hammering in his chest.
“What are you doing up there, sleeping?” A girl, probably in her upper teens, stared at him with
big brown eyes. She wore black leggings, short boots and an olive green coat that came to her thighs.
Her long black hair was pulled into a ponytail and hung to her waist. She moved closer to the trunk, and her gaze ran over him—assessing.
“Go away,” he said in a sharp voice. Was she crazy being out here alone?
“Why?” She placed a hand on the wide trunk, tilting her head to get a better view of him. In her
other hand, she held a walking stick about six feet long. Her clothes were worn but clean, not like
people from the Block.
Confusion clouded his thoughts for a moment. He didn’t know how to respond. What was she
doing out here by herself anyway? She could be killed by one of the crud-filled tribes. Maybe she had others near, and they would attack him. He climbed to a higher branch, straining his neck to peer
“My name’s Rebecca. My friends call me Becca, though.” She hesitated, watching him for a few
moments, then caught hold of a lower branch and swung up to sit on it. She moved gracefully, strong
and sure of her actions. “I always thought of this as my tree. I come here a lot in the mornings before
the dark tribes are out. I like to sit here and think. It’s a great place for that; don’t you agree? Calm and peaceful with the wind making the limbs creak and the leaves rustle.”
He’d never seen anyone like this girl. Everyone he met was afraid, scrounging for food and
shelter, fighting over scraps of clothing. Belonging to a tribe gave some protection, but they also had
too many rules, and for most, their members were more like slaves. Yet, this Rebecca walked around
by herself as confident as if she had a hundred bodyguards. He peered through the branches. She had to have others with her, maybe acting as a decoy to lure him out.
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