The Hand of God

by Miller, Tim

  “What the hell are you?” Stanton asked. “Did you kill him?”

  “Not exactly. I’ll explain later.” We waited a few minutes, hoping someone would come back out. No one returned. After almost fifteen minutes, the sky began to turn black. It shouldn’t have been nightfall for a few more hours. Yet, the sky turned black as night. Stanton and I watched, thinking it might be some kind of storm. Something like a shooting star came down and struck the street, causing a small explosion. Then there was another, and another. Fire was falling from the sky. Stanton and I ran for cover. Balls of fire exploded around us as we hit the street. I did my best to keep my head down, but as I looked around I could see it was happening all over the city. It wasn’t rain, but it was fire and brimstone falling from the sky.

  We ran a few hundred feet from the gate and across the street. There was an old gas station there with a large box truck parked outside. We dove underneath the box truck hoping nothing big enough would hit it. From what I saw, the brimstone was about the size of baseballs. We could hear some hitting the top of the truck, but it was thick enough they didn’t burn through. At least not yet anyway.

  “This truck isn’t going to last forever in this,” Stanton said.

  “I know, but neither will we.”

  “What is going on?”

  Before I could answer, we saw the gate open at the Bishop’s mansion. The Bishop himself came strolling out followed by a news crew of all things. He walked out to the middle of the street, looking up at the sky. The fire and brimstone didn’t come near him or the film crew, as if they had some protective shield around them. He held his arms out to his sides, looking up the sky and spoke.

  “Peace, be still.” He said. No sooner did he finish speaking that the bombardment stopped. He looked around, smiled, and went back inside.

  “Jesus Christ,” Stanton said. “Did you see that?”

  “Of course I saw it.”

  “What the hell is going on with you two?” We both climbed out from under the truck, looking around. The air smelled like burnt sulfur as people came out of their houses to assess the damage. Sirens blared in the background as well.

  “I guess you need to know at this point.” I went on to tell him everything.

  Chapter 35

  Stanton stood there staring at me speechless as I explained everything to him. Well, almost everything. I left out the parts about me nailing people to crosses and cutting them to pieces. If he thought I was crazy before tonight, he was sure of it now.

  “Wow Pastor Charlie, that’s quite a story.”

  “You just saw what I saw, right?”

  “That I did,” he nodded. “And I saw what you did to that guy at the gate. I’ve always been an atheist. Now I’m not sure what to think. I should just arrest you know for whatever that was you did.”

  “If you arrest me, you’ll take the one person out who has a chance at stopping him.”

  “That is, if he can even be stopped. He made it rain fire for God’s sake.” Stanton said. “So what does all this mean? What does he want?”

  “It means he wants to exert some sort of control over the city, maybe more. He was just on national TV the other day doing one of his tricks. Who knows?”

  “But why?” I couldn’t tell if Stanton was just that skeptical or if he was that slow.

  “Why does anyone do anything? Money? Power? Both? Either way, we have to do something.”

  “Well I’m not sure what, if the guy just made fire fall from the sky. Speaking of which, I need to get back to the station and see what damage has been done.”

  We walked back toward my Tahoe. As we looked around, there were dozens of small craters burned into the street. Houses were burning, both nearby and in the distance. We reached my Tahoe to see it full of holes and on fire. Stanton took out his cell phone and called his department for a ride. After a half hour or so, another detective came to pick us up.

  He drove me back to the church, since I needed to see what was going on back there. On the ride back, I could see the damage through the city. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was enough. The Bishop’s plan for this was probably simple. He caused the disaster, then came out on TV and stopped it so he looked like the hero. Once we reached the church, I got out of the car. Stanton told me to call him once I found out more, or before I did anything else.

  People were gathered outside the church. It had sustained a decent amount of damage, but nothing that couldn’t be repaired. There were holes on the roof and burns along the front and sides. Several people ran up to me as they saw me arrive. The questions came fast; I couldn’t even tell who was asking what. The main thing people wanted to know was if it was from God and was it some sort of sign. I didn’t have an answer for either. I wanted to be cautious in my words about him anyway. Though I knew how dangerous he was, some in my church had bought into his game completely.

  As we were gathering, a black Lincoln pulled up. It wasn’t the Bishop though. A tall man in a suit got out of the driver’s side. This guy had hair at least, and shook my hand.

  “Hello Pastor Charlie, how are you?” He asked. His hair was black and combed straight back. His teeth were a little too white.

  “I’m okay under the circumstances.”

  “Very good. Bishop Hoover has sent us out among the local churches. My name is Peter Kemper. He would like me to speak to God’s people about what happened tonight and to offer our assistance.”

  “Well sure, that would be fine. I’m sure all of us could use some reassurance.” I said and stepped away from the door. It was against my better judgment but I was curious what he’d say. I also found it interesting that the Bishop was sending goons out to churches, like disciples. I figured this was another chance for him to pull people into his fold. Everyone filed into the church while Peter took his place at the pulpit. I went up front to introduce him.

  “Good evening everyone. Thank you for coming out tonight. I’m glad to see everyone is safe after tonight’s events. We have a special guest tonight; Peter Kemper is here to discuss with us what happened.”

  “Thank you Pastor Charlie,” he began. “Bishop Hoover sent me here tonight. As some of you know, he stood among the fire and brimstone that rained down from the sky and rebuked the storm raining from the sky. The Lord heard his cry and saved our city from further judgment, such has not been seen since Sodom and Gomorrah,” he said in his southern drawl.

  He paused, looking around at the stunned faces in the church.

  “What happened tonight was nothing less than judgment from Almighty God! Judgment for our sins, and judgment for the wolves in sheep’s clothing we have allowed among us. Even here in your little church, there is a wolf, seeking to devour all of God’s sheep.”

  There was a collective gasp as people began looking around, trying to figure out who the wolf was among them. I knew he was talking about me. I wondered if he would call me out by name.

  “God knows who this man is. The Bishop knows too and this man will be dealt with under God’s entire wrath. He will become a vessel of God’s destruction. All false prophets will be dealt with as the Bishop prepares the way for the day of the Lord!”

  People began to shout “Amen!” while some were crying. Others walked up front and began praying as Peter quietly stepped down and knelt at the altar in prayer. I knew what he was doing. Creating panic and dissention in my church, probably other churches too, that way the Bishop can slide right in and take over. It was a good plan; I’d have done the same thing. As people went forward to pray, I walked into the church foyer to get a drink of water. As I bent down over the fountain, there was a voice from behind me.

  “You’re not doing a very good job of stopping the Bishop.” It said. I turned around and saw it was David Davidson.

  Chapter 36

  I had to restrain myself from jumping on Davidson and tearing his face off.

  “You’re not giving me much help,” I said. “You show up, give some vague hints, and the
n tell me to stop him. As he gets stronger and builds this entire enterprise, you all get mad over how I go about stopping him. What am I supposed to do with all that? Then he goes and makes it rain fire and brimstone?”

  David looked toward the sanctuary where everyone began singing A Mighty Fortress is our God.

  “Yes, that was him. It’s all him. God has put him on a long leash for some reason. I don’t know why, nor do I know why he chose you to go after him. But he has, so you need to quit standing around and do something.”

  This was starting to piss me off. One thing I hated more than anything was a Monday morning quarterback. You see it a lot in churches. People who don’t lift a finger to get involved with anything, but they do nothing but critique the ones who do. Unfortunately, Christians are notorious for it. Apparently angels aren’t exempt from it, either. I didn’t want to talk in the foyer any longer, so I stepped outside for some air. Davidson followed me without a word.

  “So why don’t you do something Mr. Angel?” I asked. “Bust the Bishop in the face with your harp or something. I can’t even get close to him unless I’m tied to a chair or something. You could drop right in and zap him.”

  “I’m under orders not to. You remember the last time an angel disobeyed God don’t you?”

  He was talking about Lucifer of course. For anyone who hasn’t heard the story, Lucifer was a beautiful angel who led others in worship. He became jealous of God and tried to rise up against him. God cast him out of heaven long with one third of the angelic host. He now roams the earth, better known as Satan or the Devil. His fellow fallen ones are demons. David’s reference to Lucifer made me wonder just where he was in all of this, unless the Bishop was Lucifer, or worked for him perhaps.

  “You know what David,” I said. “I think I’m about done taking orders from you. The Bishop could have killed me several times, but hasn’t for whatever reason.”

  “He’s toying with you.”

  “How do I even know God sent you? How do I know the Bishop isn’t for real for that matter?’ I hated second guessing myself but I felt like I had my back against the wall. The Bishop’s little display tonight showed all of us that he could wipe us all out in an instant if he chose to, and God apparently wasn’t going to do anything about it.

  “You don’t know Charlie, that’s what faith is about.”

  “You know what, fuck faith. I’m done. You’ve toyed with me way more than the Bishop.” I turned and began walking.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” David said.

  “Why? What are you gonna do?”

  He stared at me for a moment, so I turned and began walking again.

  “Charlie, stop right now.” He yelled.

  “Whatever happened to free will?” I yelled back.

  I heard footsteps coming up on me. I spun around and saw David running toward me, but as he ran his body began to change. His head morphed into something that looked like a wolf, except with no hair. Huge wings protruded from his back, except they didn’t look like angels wings. They were large, black and leathery, like what you’d see on a bat. He grew several inches as he bore his teeth, spread his wings and stood before me.

  I turned again, but this time I took off running. In seconds, he soared through the air and took me down, landing on my back as I face planted into the concrete. I struggled to get my breath as the thing’s hot breath snorted on the back of my neck.

  “You’re not really an angel are you?” I grunted.

  “And you’re not very bright, pastor.” The thing growled. I tried to move, but its huge talons were pinning me down. “Someone wants to talk to you,” it said. As he spoke, there was a loud explosion and a plume of smoke came from the ground a few feet in front of me. The smoke swirled and slowly cleared, revealing a man.

  “It’s okay my friend.” The man said to the thing on top of me. “You can let him up.” The thing stepped off of me, letting out a growl for good measure. I sat up and looked at the visitor. He was slightly taller than me, had dark hair and a beard, both neatly trimmed. The man was wearing blue jeans and a dark sport coat. He came toward me and held out his hand to help me stand.

  “Hi Charlie,” he said. “I’m Lucifer. We need to talk.”

  Chapter 37

  The man who called himself Lucifer looked me up and down for a moment as I got to my feet. It had been warm and humid just a few moments before, but it felt as if the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees in the last couple minutes. I looked at the thing that used to be Davidson and saw he had turned back into himself. He gave me a wink as I glanced at him; I was back to wanting to rip his face off.

  “So Lucifer,” I began. “What the hell?” Not the most profound thing I could think of, but I was at a loss for words at the moment.

  “Yeah, I imagine you’re a bit confused. Sorry about that.”

  “So you and your guy here had me thinking God wanted me to stop the bishop, and it was you all along? And you expect me to believe you’re actually the devil?”

  “I don’t expect you to believe anything. But I am the devil, as you like to say. Lucifer isn’t even my real name, but that’s what everyone knows me by.”

  “So what is your real name?”

  “You couldn’t pronounce it in your language, so Lucifer is fine for now.”

  “Why did you and your guy here lie to me?” I asked.

  “I’m the devil. I’m known to do that.” He shrugged.

  “Right.”

  “Okay, Charlie, here’s the thing.” He took out a cigarette and lit it. “You’re a man of the Book, so you know the score here.”

  He was referring to the Bible of course.

  “Since when does the devil smoke?”

  He glanced at his cigarette and took a drag.

  “Eh, nervous habit when I’m appearing to you mortals.”

  “Nice. And yes, I think I do know the score. At least I thought I did. Not sure what the score is now, or what game we’re even playing.”

  “Indeed. Just so you know, I didn’t entirely lie to you. The best lies are ninety percent truth you know.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “This one was maybe ninety-nine percent.” He nodded toward Davidson. “Ezrael there is an angel, a fallen one, but an angel no less. You might call him a demon. You are really descended from the Nephilim, all that stuff is true. The part I lied about was God sending Ezrael.”

  “Yeah, I figured that part was a lie. So, why all the theatrics? The Bishop is obviously shady. I figured he’d be right up your alley.”

  “Well, that’s just it, Chuck.”

  “Charlie.”

  “Whatever.” He dropped off some ashes and took another drag.

  “So what? The Bishop is some kind of rogue demon who got out of hand so you want me to stop him or something?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s nothing that simple.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Well,” he looked down for a moment as if he was searching for words. Who would have thought the devil himself could be bashful. “God kind of sent him.”

  “Kind of sent him?” I didn’t like where this was going.

  “Okay, he did send him, and then some.”

  “Are you capable of spitting out the truth? Why should I believe anything you say? You’re the great deceiver!”

  He shook his head, laughing.

  “Charlie, I got a really bad rap in that book. It’s too bad us celestial beings can’t sue for libel.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Okay, I mean, I did do some bad stuff. But they blame everything on me in there. If only people knew the truth.”

  “And just what is that?”

  “Okay, enough games. The Bishop. You might know him as the Christ, Jesus type.” He let that hang for a second. When I didn’t react he repeated it. “Jesus Christ, also known as Yeshua, the Son of God, The Lamb, Son of David, Son of man, all that good stuff. He is the Bishop. This is his second coming. You
there?”

  I apparently wasn’t since he had to practically shout at me before I responded. The Bishop was Jesus? That made no sense whatsoever. Then again, neither had anything else up till this point. Very little of anything the Bishop had done so far matched up with the life of Jesus in the Gospels. Even in the Gospels, Jesus warned of false Christs.

  “How do I know this isn’t more lies?” I asked.

  “Well first off, look at the crap he’s done. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I can’t make fire fall from the sky.”

  “Okay, so, say you are telling the truth. What could I do about it? You think I could stop God? Why would I want to anyway? I’m a man of God.”

  He shook his head again, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  “Charlie, God doesn’t want you. You are an abomination, a mistake. Your ancestors are demons. You think he wants anything to do with you?”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but he had a point. The mere thought made me want to throw up. All my life, I’d tried to serve God with every fiber of my being, and it’s all been a lie.

  “For God’s sake Charlie. You butcher people you think are sinners and say it’s because God told you to? You’re more like me than Him my friend.”

  Deep down, I felt he was telling the truth, yet I wanted to hit him, to lash out and cut him wide open. I wanted to see if the devil could bleed and die like a person. I imagined him hanging from my cross as I sliced him to pieces.

  “Don’t you touch me,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “You can help me Charlie. We can work together to stop this. You can help me rule this stupid little planet. These mortals have nothing on you; you’re far superior to any of them. You’ve always known it.”

  I pulled away from him and stepped back. I knew I couldn’t take him in a head-on fight. He had a few more years’ experience in this sort of thing.