The Hand of God (7 page)

The man at the door was much shorter, and was wiry compared to the Bishop, who was tall and had a commanding presence.  The little man was also wearing a black suit.  I had no idea who this could have been.  Maybe it was some freaky gay encounter big preachers get busted doing.  If that’s the case, then I needed to get my camera ready.  After a few minutes they came out of the motel room, but there were three of them this time.  A taller man with a shaved head was with them. Both men with the Bishop looked like a couple of goons.  Maybe he had bodyguards.  They all got into the Lincoln and began driving again.  This was getting more interesting.

They drove some more as I followed, winding through the downtown area of San Antonio.  After ten minutes they pulled into the parking lot of a small church.  It was an independent Baptist church in a tiny white building.  They walked in through the front door as if they owned the place.  I looked around to see if there was anyone outside who might see me.  When I was sure it was clear, I got out of the Tahoe.

I ran alongside the church and tried my best to look inconspicuous.  Looking sneaky would only draw attention in the broad daylight.  There were some windows along the side of the building.  I looked through each of them until I found what must have been the pastor’s office.  The blinds were partially open, so I could see the man sitting behind a desk.  The Bishop and his men were standing across from him talking.  The Bishop was smiling, but no one else was.  The church pastor was an older man with thick white hair.  He looked more frightened than anything.  The two goons were flanking the Bishop with their arms crossed.  It looked like a shakedown I’d seen in some mafia movie. 

After a few minutes the old man stood up, but the two goons stepped toward him as he talked frantically while pointing his finger.  The short goon took out a Taser and shot the old man with it.  He flopped back into his leather office chair and gyrated before sliding onto the floor.  Short goon walked over and pulled the man back up into his chair.  He looked dazed as he tried to regain his bearings.  His eyes were wide, but he was helpless to move or do anything.  Part of me wanted to intervene, but I couldn’t just yet.  I had to see what the Bishop was about.

The Bishop walked over to the man and placed his hand on his forehead.  He spoke something as the old man began kicking and twitching in his seat.  The Bishop’s grip didn’t look that firm, but the old man was helpless against it.  After a few seconds, the Bishop moved away.  I could see the old man had blood oozing from his eyes and nose as his mouth gaped open.  His bloody eyes stared lifelessly up at the ceiling.  I had no idea what exactly had just happened, but I figured it was time to get out of there. 

Running back to the Tahoe, I managed to pull out before the Bishop and his men came outside.  I had no doubt that the Bishop was the man Davidson had warned me about.  Problem was, I had no idea what to do about it.  It was too much to process at the moment.  It was time to go find Nancy Martinez.  Doing God’s work always helped me clear my head.

Chapter 12

As I drove, I thought back to that night when I was twelve after I killed the dog.  My dad had driven  me to the emergency room.  I was covered in blood that was staining the seats of his car.  He didn’t seem to mind, though.  My dad was never a big car nut.  If I remember right, some of that blood never did come out.

“Son, I’m very proud of you,” he said as he drove.  “You scared me to death.  But I’m still proud of you.”

I sat quietly; I remembered starting to feel really tired all of a sudden.  It was the adrenaline letting loose.  What my dad was saying still registered though. 

“You are?” I asked.

“Of course I am.  There’s something I need to tell you.  We wanted to tell you when you were old enough.  After today, I think you are ready.”

“Tell me what?”

“When you were a baby, you had gotten very sick for a few days.  It started out as just a cough, but it got really bad.  One night we decided to take you to the hospital.  On the way there, you’d stopped breathing.  Your mother was in a complete panic.  It was an awful night, cold and rainy.  I knew we weren’t going to make it on time.  The hospital was still almost ten minutes away.”

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do.  I pulled over, put my hands on you and prayed.  I begged God to save you.  I told him if He saved your life that we would dedicate you to Him.  We’d prepare you for a life doing His work.  After I prayed, you began crying.  The sickness was gone completely.”

I wasn’t even sure what to say.  How does a twelve-year-old respond to being told his life is dedicated to a higher purpose?

“Tonight was proof that God is working in your life.  You’re a warrior son.”

“I am?”

“Just look at yourself.  Of course you are.  Tonight with that vicious dog?  It was like a modern David and Goliath.  That dog should have torn you apart.  Yet you found a way to kill it.  Now no one will ever be hurt by that thing again.”

He had a point.  It was all quite overwhelming.  Dedicated to God, David and Goliath? It was a lot for a kid, but I tried not to get a big head. 

Several years later when I was in high school, I was coming back from Bible study when my car got a flat tire in downtown San Antonio.  It was late at night and I was under an overpass.  I got out and started to change it when I heard a woman scream. 

I ran toward the scream.  It was around the corner from the overpass.  When I got there, a man was standing outside of a parked car.  He had a woman by the hair and was pulling her out through the driver’s side window.  I ran over to try and stop him.

“Hey!” I yelled.  “Get away from her!”

The man turned.  He was wearing a dark jacket and had a diamond stud earring.

“This ain’t none of your business man.  Now get the fuck outta here!”

He went back to pulling on the woman’s hair as if I was just an annoyance.  The woman kept screaming as he yanked her further out of the window.  By then she was almost halfway out.  At a loss for what to do, I ran up and punched him in the stomach.  It didn’t have much effect, but he let go of the woman and turned to me.

“Shit, kid, now you just fucked up.  I’m gonna beat your ass now.”

“No you’re not.” I said.  I was horrified at first.  My hands were shaking as sweat started down my forehead.  The man came toward me and took a swing.  His fist connected with my forehead, knocking me backward.  I fell flat on the ground as he stood over me. 

“Get up bitch!  What you gonna do?”  He kicked me in the side before I could move.  While the punch and kick hurt, I was more stunned than in actual pain.  I climbed to my knees and made it back to my feet.  He stood waiting for me to regain my composure.  I could tell he wanted to fight.  The women had driven off by this time.  Hopefully to get help, but I wasn’t counting on it.

The man swung at me again; this; this time I was ready, and moved out of the way.  I hadn’t had any real training in fighting skills.  He swung again and I side stepped this one.  But he connected on the next blow, right to the side of my face.  I kept to my feet this time though.  I had no doubt that this was a fight to the death.  Just like the dog when I was twelve, here at the age of seventeen, I was in another fight for my life. 

The man swung again, this time, I ducked and swung back, hitting him in the stomach, then followed with a quick upper cut that caught his chin.  He was too big and I knew I couldn’t beat him head-to-head in his kind of fight.  He laughed as the blows connected.

“Oh there you go, little girl.  Now you got some fight in you.” He swung again, hitting me right in the nose.  I felt something pop as blood sprayed everywhere.  Pain shot through my whole body and things got fuzzy.  He hit me in the face again, and again, and again.  I went to my knees, dazed.  He was going to kill me.

“C’mon bitch! I thought you was gonna fight?”  He grabbed the back of my head and slammed me face first into the street.  He did it repeatedly.  I couldn’t believe I was still conscious.  Then something came over me, something hard to explain.  The pain went away, the fear went away, and it was just me and this man.  I flopped to the ground and lie there motionless.  The man kicked me a few more times and then knelt down next to me.  He was about to finish me off.

“You see what happens when you get into other people’s business?  You cost me a piece of ass tonight.  So you gonna die.” He placed his hand on the back of my head again.  This time I grabbed him and struck him in the face with the palm of my hand.  I could see the shock on his face that I was even moving.  The blow itself wasn’t that strong.  The shock went away after a few seconds and I could tell he was about to really go nuts. 

I jumped to my feet and punched him in the face several times.  None of them were very hard, but enough to distract him.  He lunged at me and I stepped out of the way and jumped onto his back.  I locked my arm around his neck in a choke hold as I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on for dear life.  He ran and thrashed about as I sank my grip in tighter and tighter.  After a couple of minutes, he slowed down, barely getting his arms over his head.  Then he went to his knees.  I stayed on my feet but kept the choke hold in place.  His body began to sag and finally went totally limp.  I continued to hold on for another minute to make sure he was gone. 

I let go of his lifeless body and looked down at him.  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel, but I didn’t feel anything other than relief.  It was still dark and I was amazed no one had even driven by.  From there, I wasn’t sure what to do.  So I ran back to my car and drove home.  As I drove home it began to rain.  I realized years later that the rain would have washed away any DNA or evidence I may have left behind.  It was God protecting his warrior. 

That was my first human kill.  Not nearly as neat and tidy as my work now, but you have to start somewhere. 

I was about to reach Nancy Martinez’s house when I saw it; the Bishop’s car sitting across the street from her place.  I kept driving and looped around the block.  This was going to mess up my plans, big time.  That guy was everywhere.

Chapter 13

Not sure what else to do, I sat a block down from Nancy’s house and kept an eye out.  It was the middle of the day, but I was used to keeping a low profile during the day.  The Tahoe had tinted windows so that helped a lot.  The worse thing was nosy neighbors coming up asking what you were doing.  It would be even worse if they were to call the cops to check me out, so I turned the Tahoe off and moved to the backseat where I couldn’t be seen.  It was really too hot to be sitting in a parked car, but this was the kind of sacrifice that came with the territory.
             
After a few minutes, the Bishop came walking out with Nancy Martinez behind him.  In Nancy’s arms was a baby, the same one I had seen her kill.  They all got into his Lincoln and drove off.  This day was quickly becoming unproductive.  Instead of doing more following, I decided to head back to the church.  I figured I needed to check in and see if anything new was going on. 

When I got back to the church, Jeff Garza, my assistant pastor, was standing outside.  He also ran the youth group and was in charge of the worship band.  I sometimes wondered if the church really needed me.  The kids loved Jeff since he was practically still a kid himself.  He was twenty-five, yet looked sixteen.  Even with his shirt and tie on, he looked like a kid who raided his dad’s wardrobe.  He was talking to some ladies from the congregation out front when I pulled up.

“Charlie!  Did you hear?” He yelled as he ran up to me.

“Hear what?”

“The Bishop!  He can raise the dead!”

Oh, here we go.

“Yes I know. I met him.”

“You met him?  Are you serious?” Jeff’s eyes lit up, and the women started bombarding me with questions.  I wasn’t even sure who these ladies were.  I had just seen them around the church a few times.  Regardless, I had too much on my mind to hold a press conference about the Bishop.

“Yes, we had lunch yesterday.  Everything happened yesterday anyway.  I figured everyone heard about it by now.  Or is  there something else going on?”