It’s dark, cold, wet, and the enemy is getting away. Hail pelts your car all over as you try to make out what’s going on in front of you. Your gaze fixes on the red of the myriad tail lights ahead. His are unmistakeable.
It’s just the two of you here. There are no police. He owns the police. He owns the governments. He owns the corporations. But he doesn’t own you. You dress like a bat. He has the world. You have a 1968 Dodge Charger. But you knew this day was coming. That’s why you bolted a jet engine to the frame.
He mows down victim after victim, ramming and destroying all the cars in his path in his efforts to escape on the crowded, slick, hazy highway. You dodge a flying trailer. You plow through a concrete barrier. You don’t see him anymore in front of you. You don’t even know if he has already gotten away. You just…keep…going…
Serendipity. Your destruction is assured. A twisted triangle of tractor trailers transforms into a black hole of annihilation enveloping your entire field of view. There is nothing to the left. There is nothing to the right. There is a massive explosion. And in that instant, the Almighty God of Heaven, Earth, and All Worlds bounces the bed of one skittering trailer off the side of another, and the girding drops to the ground, and just for one second…you think…maybe…there might be some kind of a bridge in front of you. In just one second, it’s going to be gone. And in one half of a second, if you do nothing, it’s going to kill you.
A choice lies before you. You can hit the brake, or you can go all in. You don’t have time to think. You can’t be sure what’s happening here. You don’t know what’s on the other side of that bridge. You only see darkness, storm, and flame. Drop to second. Pop the clutch. Stomp the gas.
This isn’t something you learned. Nobody told you about this. This isn’t something you’ve seen. This is what you are.
You fly into the storm of midnight fire as your bridge disintigrates beneath you into a mass of molten metal. That instant of divine favor, of impossible perfection within a scene of total carnage, is now a memory. You slam down to earth with a roar of your engine’s thunder, the last horseman of the apocalypse. And you’re bringing hell with you.
You’re afraid of bats. It’s time your enemy feels your dread. Your car slams into his with a kiss of steel death that sends him a thousand feet end over end to his final destination. The enemy has been caught in his own slaughter, trapped in a wreck by the destruction he has caused. You pull to a stop, exit your vehicle, and walk up to him slowly. You’re still here. And he isn’t going anywhere.
“You look a little upside down. I’ll be taking charge now.”
I have one superpower. I never give up.
Bruce Wayne
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
Hebrews 11:1
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