The parousia effect

Chapter 8

One of the bullets had also reached the engine and it began to fail. They were still far from the airport. David took the next exit and found himself again in the suburbs of New York. Dr. Hansen looked upset, he needed to leave the country and things were getting complicated. David parked the car on a little busy street; he didn’t need to turn off the engine since it had done it only because of the failure.

“We’ll need another car,” he said. “Do you have someone else to help you?”

Dr. Hansen thought for a moment.

“We can go back to Dr. Moses’ friends to see if they have one.”

“Okay. We must go. I don’t know this city well. Are we close?

Dr. Hansen glanced around. He knew the area.

“We’re a little far, about seven blocks away.”

“Then we must hurry.”

They got out of the car and started up. New York was a big city; it took just over thirty minutes to reach Delancey with Allen again. The business of Dr. Moses’ friend had hung on the door inside a notice that said it was closed.

“Closed in the middle of the morning?” He wondered aloud Dr. Hansen. He pushed the door and it was unlocked. He knocked twice and asked if there was anyone inside. He got no answer. David motioned them to wait there at the door and entered. He toured the space between the entrance to the counter and saw no one. He saw a door ajar at the back and heard voices, sneaked up and through it he could see an older man and woman tied to chairs in front of a desk. The woman cried nonstop. The man too, but he had a wound on his left temple from which blood flowed and his left eye swollen, almost closed. In front of them a man asked them something, and to the right of him, closer to the door, was another man.

"Who is capable of harming a helpless old man?" David wondered, feeling anger and indignation. At the time he was in Afghanistan he witnessed how men, women and children were used as human bombs to attack the occupation forces, most of the time against their will. He didn’t justify an action of such magnitude nor religious fanaticism with which it was done, which several times aroused his anger and frustration at not being able to help these poor people. Now he was in a similar situation: two elders suffering perhaps for a religious cause, or perhaps for a vulgar robbery, and he felt he had to do something; at least at that moment he could, and he decided that he would. He saw the assailants were not armed, or at least they had no weapons in their hands. He pushed the door gently and when it opened a slight squeak of the hinges caused the two men to turn.

“Leave those elders alone,” he ordered. The men confronted him.

“Who are you?” The one who was closest to the elders asked. This isn’t your business.”

“If I see that someone helpless is suffering, it’s my business. So I repeat: leave those elders alone and go. I won't call the police if you guys leave now.” The men looked at each other and let out a mocking giggle. David knew very well what he was capable of doing, and even though he was angry at the time, he was perfectly capable of controlling himself and not letting that emotion take control of his mind. The Special Forces training taught him how to defend himself and how to neutralize an enemy, as well as kill in many ways, either with his hands, with weapons or any object that can be used as a weapon. He learned to be ready in unexpected situations, and as in the cafeteria a few hours earlier, he was ready to defend himself. The two men stopped laughing. The one next to the elders looked at his partner and he immediately threw David a surprise punch, which he couldn’t dodge, hitting him squarely in the jaw. David staggered a little but didn’t lose his balance, the man had thrown another punch but this time he could dodge it. David took the opportunity to give him one on the left side, and he felt one or two ribs brake. The man fell heavily to the floor with a groan of pain.

Seeing how his partner was out of combat, the other man also pounced on David looking for a way to hit him, but a quick karate kick in the face stopped him short; he felt a tooth loosen in his mouth, his legs faltered and he also fell to the floor. Everything was spinning to him. David approached him and grabbed him by the shirt, the man looked at him surprised and pained.

“Who are you, and what do you want with these elders?”

The man tried to focus David’s face better but couldn’t, at the least not for the moment.

“We’re just looking for a scientist and a child,” he said. “This morning some people saw them come in here and we wanted to know where they went.”

“And so you had to hit that man wildly?”

“They weren’t… collaborating.”

David released him.

“Well, I have news for you. They are with me and I won’t let you reach them. Tell your boss. If you keep trying to kill the child then I will have no choice but to go for you and finish you all.”

“It’s an abomination and should not live!” The man shouted.

David looked at him for a few seconds, and then said:

“He’s a child, and also a very special being. If I have to give my life to defend him, I’ll give it.”

After a while the two men were the ones tied to the chairs. Dr. Hansen healed the wound in the old man’s temple and apologized to him for what happened. He explained that the help he had asked for earlier was precisely to flee people like those, religious fanatics who don’t support science. The old man, who had heard what David and that man had spoken, asked him why the boy was so special and why those men called him an abomination.

“Maybe you won’t believe me if I tell you,” Hansen replied, “but I can tell you that this child is very, very special. And the less the world knows about him, the better.”

Dr. Hansen told the elders of Joseph’s origin and how special he was, and they felt excited to meet him, because they were very religious and were convinced that Jesus would return to the world, even that way. An hour later they were about to leave the store; in the parking lot of the building where their business was, they had rebuilt two-door Chevelle parked that belonged to the old man and that had not returned to driving regularly for many years. It was a very colorful scarlet red classic with two black stripes along the trunk, roof and hood, which catch the eye when the people see it.

“I haven’t driven it as before for five years,” the old man said. “I’m afraid it’s very powerful for me and I can’t control it. I just move it to fill the tank.”

David was practically hypnotized with the car. He knew about classics thanks to his last adoptive family, where the father owned a totally 69-rebuilt Mustang, and it was his spoiled child. He remembered how the man loved his car and felt passion for the classics, teaching him something about it and its engines.

“It’s a beauty,” he said. “My stepfather had a Mustang, just as beautiful as this Chevelle. Can I see the engine?”

“Go ahead,” said the old man.

David opened the door and sat behind the wheel. The upholstery was black leather and immaculate. It really was a beauty. It was manual transmission and the gear lever was chrome and shorter than normal, almost flush with the thigh, which facilitated the changes with just stretching the arm. He pulled the lever and opened the hood. When he looked at the engine his admiration increased.

“It’s an eight-cylinder 305 turbo charged 6.1 liters,” the old man said proudly. “Pure power.”

“I have no words,” said David, visibly moved. At that time Dr. Hansen joined them with the company of Joseph and the old woman.

“It will be my contribution to the child’s welfare,” he said, looking at Joseph with excited eyes and stroking his head. “After what you told me you will need this monster to keep those crazy people away from him, at least until you manage to leave the country. When you have arrived at the airport, you will let me know and I’ll send for it.”

“¡Wow!” Hansen said when he saw the Chevelle. “This is a lot for us. We will attract attention and it does not suit us.”

“Don’t worry, doctor,” said the old man. “If our boy here knows how to drive, it won’t matter if you attract attention or not.”

“What will you do with our friends moored?” David asked.

“Don’t worry about that either. I have some friends who will lend me a hand to take them to another site.”

That said, he pointed to the entrance to the parking lot and they saw a group of about five or six elderly people approaching them, one of them with a cane. The one in the front was wearing a Mets cap and had a short white beard. They greeted the old man as soldiers do to a superior.

“Here we are, Henry,” said the one with the cap and the beard to the old man, which was his name. “Those ruffians will regret have messed with one of ours. Where are they?”

“Inside, in the office.”

The speaker looked at David and Hansen.

“And these?” He asked. “Can we trust them? Won’t they give us away?”

Henry raised his hand solemnly.

“They’re legit. The boy here was the one who quickly disabled them.”

The one with the cane came forward.

“I was that handsome at his age,” he said. “I was raining all kind of girls and I had lots of condoms. Now only nurses and colored pills rain down.”

“You better go,” said the one in the cap again. “What will happen here will not be very nice to say.”

With a firm step the elders continued on their way to the store. David looked at them funny.

“What are they going to do?” Hansen asked, worried.

Henry giggled.

“They just want to give the impression they are very bad. It’s the only thing they have left, in addition to many diseases. They will just have a little fun.”

“I hope they don’t overdo it,” said David, smiling.

An hour later the two men were left on the banks of a road, totally n***d and tied up. The car that left them quickly started, it was convertible and showed a set of heads with white and gray hair fluttering with the breeze, except one, wearing a cap. One of them asked if they would finally go to Las Vegas this time.

 Mark and Doris arrived at the motel where Moses stayed that night. Next to the door of the room were two police officers sitting in chairs and chatting animatedly. They identified and knocked on the door. Margaret’s small figure appeared after a few seconds.

“We want to know what Dr. Julius Hansen was doing at your home,” Mark told them once they entered. “And why a group of religious fanatics and a satanic sect attacked them.”

Mark took one of the chairs in the makeshift dining room and sat in front of them, who were sitting on the bed. Margaret looked at John and took one of his hands between hers. He understood that he could no longer continue giving advantage to his friend with the authorities, and even more with those two detectives so close to knowing everything, sooner or later. Other than that, he thought that perhaps with the police on their side Hansen and Joseph could have greater protection and security, which is what would matter most at that time, despite the faults his friend has committed. He sighed deeply before beginning to speak.

“Sooner or later you will found out, detectives,” he paused. “Five years ago, when Dr. Hansen managed to clone a human organ, he not only made a progress in the field of medicine and the perspective of healing many diseases, but also opened up the possibility of cloning human beings. He told me that he was obsessed with the idea for a while, but he finally decided to put it aside because he didn’t want the international scientific community to condemn his work and appeal to ethics to stop it.”

“And why did he disappear?” Doris asked. “Did he do it to continue his studies in hiding?”

“Shortly after announcing to the world his success with cloning of human organs, a religious group called The Second Coming contacted him and asked him to go ahead with his project of human cloning, offering him the genetic material of the very Jesus of Nazareth.”

John paused, watching the reaction of the detectives.

“So?” Mark asked. “Don’t tell me he accepted...”

“Julius was not going to do it,” John continued, “but in those days some things happened that made him decide: on the one hand he learned it was tried to steal the Sudarium kept in the Cathedral of San Salvador in Oviedo, Spain, missing a small piece of it, which was a scandal for that country for being the guardian and custodian; and on the other The Second Coming assured him that they had managed to obtain the DNA of Jesus of Nazareth, so he decided and accepted.”

“And he succeeded in cloning?” Doris asked.

“He worked hard on it, until he succeeded. They offered him a virgin woman who was fertilized and gave birth to the clone of Jesus. He was very happy with his work, but one day he heard a conversation between several members of the group and fell into a reality he had not considered: the child was going to be used for unknown purposes and, of course, that it was just a kid. So he decided to take the boy when he turned the year and so disappeared. He was in hiding in Europe with the child and with another identity, until today, when he came to my house with the child, saying they had been located and were being persecuted. You already know the rest of the story. “Wow!” Mark exclaimed. “It really is a hard story to believe. What doesn’t fit me in all this area the dead at home. Did Hansen kill them? He didn’t seem like the kind of man capable of so much”

Mark deliberately omitted the presence of David Cranston, to see if the scientist mentions him.

“A group of armed men commanded by a certain Thomas came to my house from the back and surprised us. He told us that they were part of a satanic sect and had found out that a scientist had managed to clone Jesus, so they should kill him, so he doesn’t revolutionize the world as he did at that time more than two thousand years ago, if it really was him."  “And that was when our other friend intervened, the former Marine who served in Afghanistan with your son, and charged them all, didn’t he?”  Doris said.

Mark was a little obfuscated by Doris’ intervention mentioning David. John shook his head, watching his hand between Margaret’s.

“The boy had come to bring us a letter from our son. He was in the right place at the right time and intervened only at the last moment,” he looked up again, looking at Mark and Doris. “When they were ready to kill us, another group of armed men shot them through the window of the main entrance and killed them all, except for the so-called Thomas, who managed to flee. I think there were only two, because when they entered, the boy grabbed one and stabbed him in the neck, then used him as a shield against the other and managed to knock him down. I think I heard that they were from a group called The Blessed Ones or something like it. I imagine the survivor will have told you that they attacked my house for the child as well.”

“He didn’t have time,” said Mark. “He was killed with a concrete truck. I imagine so that he didn’t speak.”

“Then the situation is more dangerous than you think, detective. These groups are willing to kill Julius and the child and won’t stop until they succeed. You must protect them. I know that Julius has committed several faults for what he did, but that doesn’t justify they want to take his life, just like the child, who is an innocent creature and isn’t to blame for everything that happens around him.”

Mark and Doris remained silent for a few seconds, thinking.

“Do you have any way to communicate with him?” Mark asked finally. “You must convince him to surrender. It’s the only way to protect them.”

“No, we don’t have it, sorry. It all happened very fast.”

Then Margaret intervened for the first time in the conversation:

“But we sent them with some friends of ours to help them. Maybe they know something else.”

“Yes!” John exclaimed. “They have a small business in Manhattan. Too bad I left the cards with the address in the house.”

“Tell me their names and the name of the business,” said Mark, smiling. “Don’t forget we are detectives.”

John told him the name of the elders and the business they had. Before leaving, Mark remembered something.

“You said Hansen had another identity. Do you remember if he told you what it was?

John nodded.

“His name is Andrew Farnsworth. And the boy’s name is Joseph.”

Mark wrote down the names. Half an hour later they were on their way to Manhattan.