James sat in his car, parked on the street near where the press had gathered outside of Cedars-Sinai. He’d been there as long as they had, for a little more than a day. On the radio, he had listened to coverage of Karen Holloway being admitted to the hospital and speculation on how much the baby would weigh, how long it would be, what color its eyes would be, if it would be born with hair and what color that hair might be, as well as what name the child might be given. This disgusted James. He didn’t understand how the entire world could so quickly be swayed by her tricks, by Satan’s tricks.
James prayed as much as he could in between listening to coverage of the event on the radio, asking God to give him one final sign, some instruction on what was certainly the most important part of the plan. He closed his eyes tight and tried to envision God as he asked him for help. Just then, James’s head lurched forward when a news van pulled in too close behind him and ran into his car. The truck only tapped his bumper, it did no damage, but it was enough to jar James out of his silent meditation to God.
As a camera crew rushed out of the van toward the hospital, a woman with them asked James if he was all right and handed him a business card. She told him to call the news station if he had a claim to file, but she didn’t really have time to stay and deal with it. She had to get to the hospital entrance.
James tossed the business card in the passenger’s seat, and that’s when he saw it: God’s final sign. The news van hadn’t hid his car hard at all, certainly not hard enough for the glove box to pop open, but that’s exactly what happened. The glove box was open, and sitting there inside it was the gun James bought in Arizona. James knew what God was asking of him. Just as Pastor Preston had said, before he was corrupted by Satan: Christians were at war with the forces of Satan, and in war, blood must be shed.
James remembered when he heard God’s voice back in his apartment. God told him that he would be called on to make a great sacrifice. James knew that if he did this, if he did what God was asking, he would be making the greatest sacrifice any person is capable of: sacrificing his own life.
He noticed the group of photographers and press people start to stir. They all looked at the hospital door near where they had been sectioned off. The door opened, and a family emerged, with Karen Holloway at the front, being pushed in a wheelchair holding a baby. The press went into a frenzy, with cameras whirring and reporters shouting things to Karen. The police officers on the scene were doing their best to keep the press at bay, but some of them made their way around the barricades to get microphones closer to Karen. James knew that God had created this confusion specifically for him, specifically to complete his divine purpose.
James opened his car door and casually walked across the street so as not to draw any undue attention to himself. He merged into the throng of reporters and photographers unnoticed, made his way around a barricade, slipped in behind a reporter who was interviewing Karen, removed the Glock 17 from inside his jacket, pointed it at Karen’s baby, and fired seven shots in rapid succession, then dropped the gun, put his hands on his head, and kneeled on the ground.
Paul, Lynn, Robert, and Tanya screamed in horrified shock as the police apprehended James and wrestled him to the ground.