Chapter 6

John’s friends had a small antique shop on the corner of Delancey and Allen streets in Manhattan. They had no trouble getting the address, since it was near the Williamsburg Bridge, through which they had entered the district. At that time the store was already open and Dr. Hansen asked David to wait in the car with Joseph, who had already woken up. He entered and immediately a man about seventy years old met him with a wide smile. In the background, and behind a counter, an older woman was also near the cash register. On the other side of the store, an obese woman looked closely a porcelain figure that looked like a horse.

“How can I help you, friend?” asked the man in a soft voice. “We have many old and interesting articles. Many have a particular history, if you like to follow me I would like to show you...”

“I come from Dr. John Moses,” Hansen interrupted him. “I need your help.”

The man, who had turned around thinking that the client would follow him, turned to see him again, surprised.

“We haven’t seen Dr. Moses for many years,” said the old man after a pause, and smiled again. “How is he?”

“Look, I’m here because I need your help. Dr. Moses told me you could help me because you have family in South America. I need to leave the country.”

The old man looked at him strangely again. He ran a trembling hand over his head, as if combing the little gray hair he had left.

“Yes, it’s true,” he said. “Our daughter lives in Argentina with her husband and son for several years. If John Moses sent you to me it’s because it must be something serious.”

“He told me to remind you what he did for your cousin Debbie.”

This time the old man seemed to reflect, narrowing his eyes. He immediately motioned for him to follow. Hansen walked behind him and they got to where the old woman was, who also gave him a wide smile.

“I need to talk to this gentleman in the back,” said the old man. The woman nodded, and after making another sign to Hansen to follow him, he led him to a door hidden behind a curtain, the old man opened it and entered what looked like a kind of office, with a computer on a desk in the middle of it, a phone, and other things like notebooks, pencil holders and various documents. Hansen watched everything for a few seconds, while the man sat behind the desk. He pointed to a chair and asked him to sit down.

“How can I help you?”

Outside, Joseph watched people on the street in silence. David was looking at him in the rearview mirror. In his mind he still didn’t assimilate the idea that this child was a clone of Jesus of Nazareth. He saw him like any other child, with nothing special, but with a little curiosity. He thought that if he really had the body of Jesus then he would be able to perform miracles like those He did in his time, but he immediately dismissed the idea, since he still wouldn’t have enough maturity to understand his condition, much less what he would be able to do if he wanted to. Somehow he was still curious, and for the first time since he left the Special Forces felt desire to approaching someone, even if he was that little boy who had recently saved his life. He made an effort to speak to him.

“How do you feel, buddy?” He asked, and immediately thought it was not the best way to start a conversation with a child.

Joseph turned to look at him. David turned to see him also directly, and met his big brown eyes. They were really beautiful, he thought, and that strange feeling immediately invaded him again.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Although I’m hungry.”

The sensation left David’s body, and he felt good again.

“I’m hungry too. As soon as the doctor arrives we'll eat something. Okay?”

Joseph nodded. David also began to look at people on the street, thinking.

“I’m very sorry for what you saw in the house of your father’s friend. Those things shouldn’t be seen by children.”

Joseph looked down.

“Dad says knives and guns are bad.”

“And he’s right. You should never take a gun. The knives are safer if you know how to use them.”

Suddenly, Joseph turned back to see the street on his left. On the sidewalk a man dressed in suit and tie passed by watching the front page of the New York Times and suddenly stopped, his eyes stopped seeing the newspaper and looked at the floor. David looked around for what Joseph saw and watched the guy, motionless. Slowly the man turned to look at them and this time his gaze met Joseph’s, who slowly approached to the window, put his left hand on the glass and kept looking at that man. When David was going to say something, the man rolled his eyes and fell to the floor, shivering violently as if he were suffering a seizure. A man who walked by with a briefcase came to see what was wrong, another also did the same and a woman took her cell phone out of her bag saying she will call to 911. The men tried to hold him, while one of them looked in his mouth for the tongue to hold it so he wouldn’t swallow it and drown, he said. He must be a doctor or something, because he knew what he was doing. Suddenly the man began to utter incomprehensible words and sat on the sidewalk, with a violent thrust he threw those who held him about three meters away. He kept saying incomprehensible words as he pointed towards the Dodge Charger parked a few meters from him. Suddenly he put his arms on his head and uttered a cry of pain that terrified the frightened passersby, and collapsed again, unconscious.

David watched surprised all that, and left the car to check on that man. The men holding him approaching again, examining him to see if he was okay, while David joined them, as did a few more people who had seen what happened. Little by little the man regained consciousness, and when he was aware of his reality began asking where he was and how he had got there. David turned to the car and his gaze met Joseph’s. He felt a hand on his right shoulder and when he turned to see who it was he met Dr. Hansen.

“We have to go,” he said.

Mark and Doris had arrived at the Mercy hospital to interrogate the survivor of the massacre at the scientist`s house. The doctor on duty told them he was ready to leave, because his arm wound didn’t merit a long hospital stay. The room was guarded by two uniformed police officers, stationed on both sides of the door, who entered with them. Inside, the man had his left arm handcuffed to the bed and his right bandaged. He was watching the TV on the opposite wall, and when he saw them enter he made a gesture of annoyance.

“Yes, I know we are a nuisance to you criminals,” Mark said. “We come to take you to the station and to a comfortable shared cell.”

Doris put her right hand on the holster of her gun on her belt while Mark took off him the handcuffs. The police officers at the entrance held him and escorted him to the door. The man did not bother to look at them or speak, he did everything he was told without resistance. When they left the hospital, a grin of a smile was drawn on his lips, Doris realized.

“We'll see if you`re still smiling at the station,” she said.

Outside, they put the man in the back of the patrol of the two police officers and they entered their car, a black Impala. They set off for the police station. Mark, who was behind the wheel, occasionally saw the patrol car in the rearview mirror, a few meters behind them. He was anxious to interrogate the detainee.

At the entrance of the hospital a man saw when they put another one in the back of a patrol car and immediately took his cell phone and dialed a number.

“They’re already moving him,” he said. “What do we do?”

He listened for a few seconds to whom he spoke.

“Okay,” he said. “I already tell the number sixteen to proceed.”

He hung up and immediately dialed another number. A few blocks away, a bearded man aboard a concrete mixer truck answered his cell phone.

“Are you ready?” asked the one at the hospital. “We have green light.”

“It took me a bit to get the truck,” said the bearded man, “but I’m ready. I’m on my way.”

He started the truck’s engine and started it, went to the exit of the construction of a building where he was and when he approached the checkpoint at the guardhouse he ignored the order of the guards to stop and stepped on the accelerator. He rammed the entrance bar and the strength of the impact threw it several meters forward into the street, hitting a passing car and had barely dodged the fast-moving truck. The driver of the truck turned to his right and immediately at the next intersection turned to the left, traveled several meters until he reached an intersection and a traffic light, which had changed from green to yellow. A car in front of him was stopping at the imminence of the red light, and he stepped on the accelerator again. The strong impact caused the car to be shot violently to the left, hitting another that was on that side stopped at the traffic light. The truck continued straight ahead and didn’t slow down.

The policemen in the patrol car and Mark and Doris in their car heard on the radio that a concrete mixer truck had been stolen from a building five streets from where they were and had caused a crash in its flight. The dispatcher requested that nearby units heed the call, but they didn’t pay much attention to it because they were on something that already had them busy. They reached a red light and stopped.

“Who would want to steal a concrete truck?” Doris asked.

Mark smiled. The traffic light changed to green and they started again. When Mark was about to say something he saw a shadow sidelong that rapidly approached to his left and he turned around. It was the mixer truck, which was quickly meeting them, but at the last moment the driver turned the steering wheel and then furiously rammed to the patrol car behind them. The truck dragged the car about thirty meters before turning it over and hitting a few vehicles lined up in the opposite direction by the red light of the traffic light. Mark stopped the car and went with Doris to check on the occupants of the police car, turned upside down. The truck moved a few meters ahead and hit several vehicles parked on its right before stopping completely. In patrol car, the policeman who was co-pilot was trying to get out, but he was so stunned by the blow he couldn’t without help. Mark checked the detainee’s status while Doris checked the driver. Both were unconscious, they had received the full impact and had bloody heads. Mark immediately ran to the truck. When he arrived, the driver opened the door, stepped out and falling to the floor. He was also stunned and tried to get up awkwardly. By the same route which truck had appeared, the sirens of several patrols began to be heard. Despite everything that happened, Mark thought what that driver had not caused all that disaster on purpose, however, and given the fact that the truck had been stolen, he would treat him like a criminal. He pulled out his gun.

“Stay on the floor and put your hands on your head!” He ordered him while aiming him.

The man had staggered to his feet and faces him. A thread of blood flowed from his forehead that covered part of his face and beard. He smiled mockingly as he searched for something with his right hand in the back of his jean.

“Hands up!” Mark shouted. “And throw yourself on the floor!”

The man had taken out a short-barrel revolver and when he was going to point it at him, Mark fired his gun. He aimed at one leg and the armed arm, one shot in each. Mark was a good shooter; he had been the best sniper of his unit in the army when he served his military. The man fell to the floor heavily. Mark approached cautiously, when he was close to him, the man raised his arm again and pointed at him shakily, and Mark had no choice but to shoot again. This time the shot hit him in the chest. He had killed the man.

“Damn it!” He swore under his breath, he didn’t want to kill him.

Doris had helped out the policeman who was conscious and left him on the floor, telling him not to get up and wait for emergency services. She walked over to Mark and joined him.

“The driver is very bad,” she said, “but I can’t say the same about our detainee. He’s dead.”

Mark looked at her for a few seconds, then at the dead bearded man at their feet. In his head the idea that man hadn’t wanted to ram the patrol car on purpose began to fade. Now he thought otherwise.

“You won’t be thinking what I think you're thinking,” Doris told him.

Mark holstered his weapon.

“You know me well, mate. I don’t think it was a coincidence that our friend here has caused so much disaster just for having stolen a truck.”

They had traveled just a few meters when Joseph told his father he was hungry. Dr. Hansen was happy, they already had a place to arrive in South America, and they just had to find a way out of the country making sure that those satanic men and religious fanatics don’t follow them. He told David to stop at a cafe later for breakfast. When they entered it was almost empty, they sat at one of the tables next to one of the windows near the door. A waitress approached them with some cups of coffee, put it on the table and fill it. She didn’t even bother to ask if they wanted coffee.

“And for the little gentleman, what do I bring?” She asked with a smile, referring to Joseph.

“Orange juice, please,” Joseph said.

“Right away. And for eat? Our chef is very good at making scrambled eggs with bacon.”

“That will be fine,” said Hansen.

The waitress withdrew. A few minutes later she brought the orange juice and put it in front of Joseph, gave him a kind smile and withdrew again. David occasionally looked at Joseph, who was entertaining, looking out the street through the window. Dr. Hansen realized David’s looks.

“You’re wondering what happened there, right?”

David took a sip of coffee, nodding slightly.

“This is the third time I’ve seen him doing that,” Dr. Hansen also took a sip of coffee. “The first time was with a teacher at his school, and the second time with a security systems vendor who went to our house to try to sell us one. It’s as if he somehow takes out the demons inside.”

David was thoughtful for a few seconds, watching Joseph.

“But I understand that demons make the person a human breakdown; this guy looked like a successful businessman, and I imagine that the other ones you saw also seemed normal.”

“Believe me, I’ve also been surprised by what I’ve seen,” Hansen said. “And the strangest thing is that he seems not conscious of doing that.”

“They looked black, and this man too,” Joseph said, looking away from the street and looking at him. “I already told you, Dad, I was scared to see them like that and I just wanted those people stop being black. Like the Canaanite woman’s daughter. Now they are white.”

“Canaanite woman?” Hansen asked. “What woman is that, Joseph?”

“The one I saw in my dreams. The people called her a Canaanite woman. She said her daughter was surrounded by many black things because she fed her dogs or something like that. Then she said they left.”

Hansen was thoughtful. David also thought for a few seconds, one of his adoptive families was very religious and he remembered they loved reading the Bible and going to church on Sundays. He remembered the story of the Canaanite woman and a slight shudder ran through his body. How was it possible for that child to mention a Bible story without even knowing about it? Or maybe he didn’t know about it and Dr. Hansen taught him, recalling that passage of it. He said he had dreamed it, but what if it was a vision? He looked at Joseph and again he felt a mixture of emotions he couldn’t explain.

“Have you told him about the Bible?” He asked Hansen.

He shook his head emphatically.

“I am scientist,” he said, “the Bible and I have our differences regarding the origin of man.”

“And yet you did what you did,” David looked at him questioningly.

Hansen was partly ashamed; to say that the Bible is wrong and to clone Jesus of Nazareth was like saying that witches don’t exist, but that they fly, they fly.

“It’s a passage from the Bible,” said David. “When Jesus arrived to the region of Tire and Sidon, a Canaanite woman approached him asking him to free her daughter of the many demons that tormented her. Jesus rebuked her for taking the food from her mouth and giving it to the dogs, or something like that, I don’t remember well. The truth is she showed a lot of faith at that time and Jesus freed the daughter of demons in the distance.”

Hansen looked at him, stunned, and then at Joseph, who took a sip of his juice. After drinking, he asked:

“Is it bad to take black from people, Dad? I don’t like to see them like that.”

“It’s all right, Joseph,” Hansen told him. “I told you not to worry about those things. You haven’t done anything wrong”.

“Do you know what a demon is?” David asked him.

Joseph shook his head.

“It’s that black you see in people.”

Joseph thought for a few seconds, watching the glass of juice in front of him and which he had just taken a drink.

“Then it’s bad. I just wish that black to leave people. Somehow I manage to do that, and I turn them white.”

“That’s because you're a special being,” David said to him, then looked at Dr. Hansen, seeking his approval.

“Special? Joseph asked. “Am I special, Dad?”

“I don’t think you understand some things now,” he said. “You’re very young and I’ll find a way to explain to you what is that special to what our friend refers here.”

David realized that perhaps had said too much, since it was clear that Joseph was still too young to understand certain things. He was beginning to believe that, in fact, that child in front of him could be a special being, perhaps Jesus himself brought back by the man sitting next to him. At times he was invaded by a strange feeling of serenity and peace he had not felt for a long time, despite the violent episode that had just happened in the house of Dr. Hansen’s friend. The annoying sensation he felt a few hours ago when they left that house had gone. He saw Joseph and he was immediately invaded by calm and tranquility. He felt good in his company, and he thought if that boy made him feel that way, then it was worth defending him from those who wanted to see him dead precisely because he was that special.

Yes, he would defend him at all costs, at the least until he left the country.

The waitress came over with the plates of food, and Joseph began to eat animatedly. So did David and Hansen. When they were about to finish, they didn’t notice the four men who had entered the cafeteria. Two stayed next to the entrance door, and two approached them. When he felt them next to him, it was when Dr. Hansen noticed them and looked up. One of them was smiling at him; he looked in his fifties, with long hair up to his shoulders, and a thick mustache. The other one was a little behind and didn’t smile. He wore his hair shorter and with an incipient beard and mustache. Hansen recognized the man who was smiling at him, and paled immediately.

“I see you remember me, dear friend,” the man said, still smiling. David was sitting in front of Joseph and Hansen, and the man pushed him a little towards the window, making room and sitting next to him. He looked at Joseph carefully.

“Cute!” He said, then looked back at Hansen. “We are still very hurt by what you did to us, especially Karen, who has not stopped crying for a single day for her son.”

The latter was said stopping smiling.

“Look, Tommy,” Hansen said, hesitating a little, “the boy doesn’t know anything about all this. We could discuss this quietly and elsewhere.”

“Unless you had come to bring us to the child, I don’t think we have anything to discuss. You came to do that, right?”

“Who is this guy?” David asked Dr. Hansen. The man turned to David and gave him a contemptuous look.

“And who are you?” He asked in turn. “You better stay out of this. The doctor here and I have issues to discuss.”

“He’s the leader of The Second Coming group,” Hansen said. “His name is Tommy Sanders. Look, Tommy, right now we must fix some issues, then we can discuss this. If you want we go to your home or headquarters of the group once I have done what I have to do. Okay?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, or what?” Tommy raised his voice; there was anger in his gaze. “Four years ago you made fun of us and you took the child! You knew he was ours and you took him, and now that he is back we won’t let him go from our hands again!”

“Listen, Tommy, a while ago two crazy groups, one of them called The Blessed Ones, tried to kill us, especially the boy. If you take him, they’ll find him and kill him, and kill you too. Our only chance to stay alive is to get him out of the country as soon as possible.”

Hansen saw Tommy’s face paled, but he didn’t flinch.

“Don’t think you’re going to fool us again, Hansen,” he said, then looked at the boy. “You and this moron can go wherever you want, we will take the child. We have big plans for him.”

Joseph clung to Hansen. He was scared. Tommy got up from the table and tried to grab Joseph, but he felt David’s left hand on his arm.

“I won’t let that happen,” he said. Tommy looked at David and chuckled.

“And how do you plan to prevent it? We are four, and unless the doctor has learned boxing or something, I don’t think you can with us.”

“So, you aren’t armed,” David said. “Even better.”

That said, he got up quickly, pulled Tommy to him and punched him right in the nose, throwing him against his companion, who almost fell backwards. The other two men at the entrance ran towards them and the first to reach, David hit him hard in the stomach, falling to his knees with a rictus of pain on his face. The second threw a punch but David dodged it, with his left hand he threw a hook to the liver and with the other right to the face. The guy fell on his back complaining of pain in his right side. The man who was with Tommy managed to surprise him from behind and hit him with his right fist in the lower back, where the kidneys are. David turned and faced him, the guy managed to throw another punch that hit him fully in the mouth and made him stagger, but then David managed to recover and with a kick in the groin he ended up with him. Tommy was recovering leaning against a table, and Hansen and Joseph watched everything from their seats. The rest of the few diners and cafeteria workers watched dumbfounded everything. David approached Tommy and grabbed him by the shirt flap, he was about to hit him again when Tommy raised his open hands.

“Wait! Wait! It is obvious that we aren’t fighting people.”

“And then why did you fight?” David asked.

“We had to try, right? We just want the child! It’s ours and he stole him!”

Dr. Hansen got up from his chair, with Joseph at his side.

“Who knows what kind of life you would have given him!” Hansen said. “That’s why I took him! Besides, he’s a child, not a God. Look! Scared by what is happening. Even some people tried to kill him today! I kept him hidden so as not to risk his life, but apparently wasn’t enough. How you found out where we were?”

Tommy laughed briefly.

“We have people where you least imagine, doctor. And if it’s true that they tried to kill him with more reason you must to give him us. We will protect him.”

Joseph clung more to Dr. Hansen.

“Why do they want to take me, Dad?” He asked with a trembling voice, about to cry. “I’m scared; I don’t want to be separated from you...”

Hansen held onto him more.

“Take it easy, son,” he said. “Nobody is going to take you away from me. No one.”

Dr. Hansen ran to the door with Joseph holding hands. David gave Tommy and followed him. The three men who accompanied Tommy were reincorporating slowly, still stunned. He claimed them not to make a greater effort to remove the child from Hansen, and ordered them to follow him, leaving also, as the waitress asked them who would pay the bill. Outside, as they walked to the car, Dr. Hansen saw from the other side of the street as another car stopped and four men descended from it, one of them Thomas, the dark visitor several hours at his friend’s house. David also saw them and told them to get into the car quickly, which they did. Tommy and his companions also saw the newcomers and paralyzed on the spot. Tommy knew well Thomas and knew what he was capable of. The Dodge Charger started violently and joined the traffic. The four men had taken their guns but didn’t give them time to shoot, so they returned to their car and also got underway.

“We have to lose them!” Hansen shouted at David, who was going to the wheel. “We must arrive at the airport to leave the country!”

David took the next avenue on his right and tried again to reach the Williamsburg Bridge to take the highway to the John F. Kennedy airport. Fortunately traffic at that time of the morning was fluid and managed to reach the bridge without major setback. David watched in the rearview mirror how the vehicle was getting closer to them and he stepped on the accelerator, feeling the power of the Charger engine. He passed three more cars and left the bridge without noticing which route they were taking. A few minutes later they found the highway and the road to the airport. David accelerated more. The rearview mirror on his door disappeared violently. They were shooting. The rear windshield cracked, letting a bullet pass and also exploding into pieces the rearview mirror in front of David. Fortunately no piece of glass hit him in the face. Dr. Hansen was shouting at Joseph to stay down in the seat and he began to sob, frightened. David had already thought about he was going to do.

“Hold on tight!” He told them, turned to look back and a bullet whistled close to his face, piercing the windshield. He saw that the car in the rear approached a little more and stepped on the brake; the Charger blocked the four wheels leaving a trail of burned tire smoke and pavement markings. The driver of the other vehicle did not have time to react and violently struck the Charger from behind; the strong impact caused the airbags of the steering wheel and dashboard will be activated, taking visibility away from the driver and causing him to brake violently and get off the highway on the right. The car skidded on the ground out of control and finally stopped in the opposite direction to the channel where they came from. Inside, Thomas, the driver and his two companions in the backseat were stunned. However, Thomas managed to remove the air bag and leave the car within a few seconds. When he scanned the highway looking for the Charger, it had already disappeared from his sight.