Watcher (The Watcher Series Book 1)

by A. J. Eversley

  Once I was patched up, I made my way down two levels to the mess hall and walked straight to the back kitchen. Theresa was there as usual. She was our only cook, and that’s the way she preferred it, refusing any offer of help. We made do with the garden and a little meat from animals found before the war broke out, but Theresa knew how to work her magic. She barely looked up as she handed me a plate. I was there often enough that she’d become familiar to my routine. Once my plate was full, I took a seat at the small table at the back of the room.

  Theresa brought me a bottle of water.

  “Slow down now. I don’t want to deal with you choking,” she nagged. I slowed down slightly and she smiled.

  “Rough night I take it?” She sat across from me, kneading dough. Does she ever rest?

  “Ran into a Carbon,” I said between bites. “But this one was different, quicker than usual. Adam’s eyepiece nearly got me killed. Stupid old man—”

  “Now you stop that right now! That ‘old man’ has saved your butt more than once with his technology, missy! Show a little respect!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said with indifference, but I knew she was right.

  “Don’t you ‘yeah, yeah’ me! Now wash your plate and get out of here. You’re wasting my precious time.” She waved me off as I planted a light kiss on her forehead.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I winked.

  She replied with a hearty “Bah.”

  On my way out, I snuck a piece of pie. Not for myself but for Adam—as a peace offering.

  I slipped into his office. His back was to me as I put down the pie and turned to leave.

  “That better be blueberry,” he said, not turning around.

  “How did you—” I questioned, but he pointed to the reflection on the cabinet door.

  “I’m not sure what kind it is, but I know Theresa will kill me when she finds out I took it so you’d better just be happy I brought it,” I said.

  He chuckled. My unspoken apology had been accepted. “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with this, my dear,” he said, pointing down to my Eye. “You said it turned green only once the skin was cut?”

  “Yeah, nothing until the microchip was exposed,” I responded, sitting down across from him.

  “How far away did you leave her? Think she’s still there?”

  “About five miles from here, but she was able to call it in before I got to her so she’s likely gone. I can go check though.” I made a move to leave.

  “No, no, just let the other Watchers know to be on high alert in case it happens again.”

  Watchers—the few who were trained to kill the enemy. The few who watched over the base and those inside of it.

  Standing slowly, I nodded my agreement. Exhausted, I walked toward the door. “Thank you,” is all I said before I headed down the hall to my quarters.

  It wasn't far to my room as the Watchers were stationed on the first level, right beside Doc and the command center, in case we needed to spring into action. I knew I should have stopped by Command to report what happened tonight, that was our protocol, but my legs could hardly carry me much farther. I’d report what happened first thing tomorrow in our daily morning meeting. I kind of wanted to see everyone’s reaction when I told them I fought off a Carbon on my own. I reached my room, opened the door, and flopped onto the bed. My shoes didn’t even hit the ground before weariness overcame me and I was fast asleep.

  Chapter 4

  “Okay, Watchers. Gather up, settle down,” Commander Smith called us all to order. He was our leader at base although he wouldn’t say so himself. He refused to give us his real name, using Smith as an alias. The most we knew about him was that he was a part of the military before the war broke out. His tall, thick frame and salt-and-pepper hair belied his age, but he had more experience than most of us sitting here, and we all respected him for that.

  It was 0600, and we were all gathered in the main conference room as we did every morning. The night Watchers were getting in from their shifts, and the rest were getting ready to go out.

  The base was built a long time ago in a decade well before any of our memories. Back when our biggest fears were of a terrorist attack from another country. That was over 150 years ago, distant history to all of us. There weren’t even any other countries for us to fear anymore; only Cytos and Kuros to the east remained. The rest disappeared.

  This base was an underground bunker built for the elite in the city of Cytos, situated on the western coast. Located beneath a seemingly ordinary residential building, now a pile of rubble, it was our hidden haven. The lower levels were built to withstand a nuclear attack, which it did during World War III. Commander Smith was one of few who knew of its existence and brought us all here. I had yet to explore the whole place, but this conference room was showing its age with old technology and worn-down chairs, much like the rest of the place.

  The top five levels of the base were for the Watchers, Doc, Adam and his many assistants, and the Command team—the techy guys who kept an eye on us. These levels also included a training center we had created along with a converted storage warehouse we used as a shooting range. Below that were the main units filled with humans who had survived. They were responsible for cleaning, sewing, and farming, but we were the ones out there fighting so they could live.

  “Report!” Smith yelled.

  “Figueroa Tower saw six Bots, all eliminated,” Kyle spoke first. He was the oldest of all of us at twenty-eight; not that old at all when you think about it, but in this life he’s pretty much a senior. Kyle looked like the typical tough guy. He was thick with muscle, and his gold hair matched his bronzed skin. He wasn’t much taller than me, yet I always seemed to be looking up at him. He was maybe the only one here I’d call a friend. He was my mentor and like a big brother to me for as long as I could remember. He and Smith were the original two to find most of us. He was second in command, but again he would never admit that.

  “Aon Center saw two Bots. Eliminated,” Byron reported from the far corner. He was a quiet kid. He kept to himself and liked to get his report over with right away. You would never suspect this guy was a stone-cold Bot killer by the looks of him; gangly and too tall, glasses constantly slipped down his nose, and one stubborn piece of hair always curled across his brow.

  “Hasting and Arco Tower saw 9 Bots, all eliminated.” Ethan spoke on behalf of himself and his brother, Tenason. Twins who refused to work apart, so they were given a four-mile radius to work together. Both identified best by their bright white hair. None of us have mentioned it before, but we went to First Year together, I was sure they remembered me. I could never forget the white-haired twins. Even then I remembered Ethan as the sarcastic loud one, always watching his brother’s back. Tenason didn’t speak much, at least not to anyone but Ethan. He never really did before either, but after what he’d been through, I didn’t blame him. We’d never heard nor asked his story, but it’s all the same. Family and friends killed in front of you. Everyone and everything gone in an instant. Those who were left felt responsible for their deaths or unworthy to be alive. Why did we make it out, and they didn’t?

  The reports continued; there were fifteen of us in all. All the same. Bots spotted, Bots killed, all clear. Until it was my turn.

  “Sawyer, Report!” Smith bellowed. I was the only female Watcher, but they didn’t treat me like one, and I appreciated that.

  “Twelve Bots eliminated at Bank Tower. And one Carbon eliminated.” All eyes were on me.

  Smith leaned in.

  I instinctively leaned back into my chair.

  “There was a Carbon, and I wasn’t informed?” Smith asked.

  “It was eliminated. What more did you need to know?” I asked smugly.

  “Is that where this wound came from?” He poked the patched-up gash on my forehead. It burned, but I kept my face neutral.

  “Yeah. Small scrape, nothing big,” I shrugged.

  “Your arrogance will get you killed someday so
on,” Smith said. “You’re off-duty today.”

  “What?” I jumped to my feet. “I’m fine!” I argued.

  “Sit down. You are off-duty for your lack of diligence in reporting a Carbon sighting.”

  I sighed but sat down.

  “You are all dismissed.” Smith finished and everyone jumped up and raced to their posts. Kyle took his time leaving, giving me a look that screamed keep your mouth shut, but I of course didn’t listen. Smith was the closest thing I had to a father these days, and despite my logical brain telling me to accept my penance, I was ready to fight back like a stubborn teenager.

  “Sir, I didn’t think it was that important. It won’t happen again.” I chased after him down the hallway, squeezing past Kyle who tried to stop me, “Sir, please reconsider. You need me out there.”

  “Sawyer, I don’t need some arrogant girl who thinks gloating in front of her peers is a better idea than following protocol and informing her superior right away.”

  I was eighteen, yet I felt like a child as he scolded me.

  “You have been here for eight years now. Don’t you think it’s about time you stop treating this like a competition?”

  He walked away as my stomach churned with guilt. I’d lost track of my intentions. I knew it was important, and my ego took precedence over the safety of the rest of the base. My mistake could’ve gotten others killed if another Carbon had been out there last night, and my report could’ve given them warning.

  My mistake!

  I had forgotten to tell the other Watchers about the Eye glitch! I sprinted off to Command as fast as I could.

  I was out of breath by the time I arrived there, having run down a labyrinth of hallways, up and down stairs. I paused before I smashed through the doors.

  “Off-duty means off everything,” Smith growled. How the hell did he get there so fast?

  “Sorry, sorry. I forgot to tell everyone.” I breathed deeply as Smith taped his toe impatiently. “The Eye has a glitch, possibly. Last night, I didn’t see the Carbon light up until I was taking out her chip. Adam said it was all working normally but to inform everyone just in case,” I finished hastily.

  Smith stared at me then turned to Sam beside him. “Inform them,” he commanded.

  Sam frantically typed his code into the computer. We had security cameras everywhere so they could keep watch of us, and with that we had access to all security systems at our main tower posts. Each Watcher was taught that one beep meant there was a message, two beeps was an emergency, and three beeps, hopefully never heard, meant we’re under attack.

  The soft beep, almost inaudible, sounded at each tower, and the Watchers make their way to the security panel on the roof of their buildings. They typed in their access pins and read the heavily coded message. One by one, they received the message and moved back to their posts. A few took off their eyepieces to examine them.

  “Is that all, Sawyer?” Smith brought me back to reality.

  “Yes.”

  “Dismissed,” he ordered, and I left.

  Chapter 5

  I hated the silence. Though it had become my friend for the past ten years, I still couldn't stand the stillness that covered me inside this base. Out on the streets you could feel the wind moving, hear the darkness cover the city, and the silence there was not torture but rather a comfort. But in the privacy of my quarters, I was left to my sobering thoughts. And they were filled with both happy memories and nightmares all the same.

  You would think a day off would be a good thing, but for me it was torture. I wanted to be in the action, not on the sidelines. Sure, we received time off as Watchers, but those days were spent training, not sitting around.

  I plopped down on the small, unyielding bed. Closing my eyes, I let my mind wander where it always did in the quiet moments, back to before the war. Back to a time when we weren’t struggling to survive another day, and when my mom was a Human Aid first responder.

  When rebel groups fought the government, as they often did back then, my mom was first on scene to go through the wreckage. Rebel groups liked to blow things up, not caring who was hurt in the process. My mom would search and rescue any humans who were trapped or injured. She had the assistance of Bots to get through the wreckage, but as she told me once, “Sometimes these situations require a softer touch.”

  She had the softest touch of them all. I could still feel her warm hand against my cheek as she pushed my hair away from my face when it draped down as it often did. As much as she tried to keep me looking cute and lady-like, my rebellious side always poked out, even if just in the form of an unruly piece of hair.

  Her inviting smile would draw you into her safety and put even the most panicked person at ease. She had dark hair like mine, only hers stopped at her shoulders in one perfectly straight line. She was plain and stunning all at the same time. We had the same eyes, sharp and brown with a ring of amber, though hers always looked so gentle and sympathetic; mine have become cold and uninviting. I always admired how her slim body was strong yet comforting. She was in amazing shape; it was mandatory for her job. Her smile is what I remember most. Loving, sympathetic, and understanding; that was my mom.

  I’d watch her as she trained, often asking if I could join and she’d always say, “Not yet but someday.”

  She was always kind. That was how she died in the end. My body flinched as I recall her trying to help a stranger who had fallen on the street as the war broke out around us. I relived it over and over, watching my mother rush to help out the lady as a nearby building exploded and came hurtling down, crushing them both like bugs. I was in my dad’s arms at the time.

  He wasted no time mourning. He ran.

  My dad was always a calculated man. He was a professor at the local robotics university. A tall, lanky man whose hair was gray throughout despite him not even being in his forties. He never smiled, and his eyes weren’t inviting like my mother’s. Yet I remember idolizing him as a child, wishing I could be as smart as Daddy. He wasn’t like my mom in any way. They were complete opposites, which is what made them work so well together. He was always busy, always working, and had little time for emotions or kindness for that matter, yet his unwavering love for my mother and me was evident to even my young mind. I barely saw my dad, barely knew him, to be honest, yet I owe him my life, and not in the strictly biological sense either.

  He was home on the day of the attack, which always struck me as odd. I don’t recall any other time he was home on a weekday besides that day. He said once before he died that he had a feeling something was wrong that day, but I’m sure he didn’t expect this—nobody expected this.

  He came home and told my mom to gather her things and leave. Like a petulant child, I remember complaining about leaving, saying I didn’t want to go anywhere and would rather stay home and play my games. It was my fault. I cost them both their lives. If we’d left earlier, they might still be here with me today.

  Hastily, I wiped away the tears flowing down my cheeks. This was a torment that lived with me daily but wasn’t one I could have the luxury of letting in too often, not if I hoped to survive and keep others alive.

  When the first bomb exploded, we all assumed it was the rebel groups, and many sought refuge with the very things that would kill them. The Bots turned on everyone they served and loved that day. Their switches were flipped, and we were no longer family or friends but enemies. Enemies whose existence must be terminated.

  People were screaming on the streets as buildings blew up around us. It was chaos. Bots patrolled the streets, killing any humans who dared to cross their paths. Within twenty-four hours, half the city disappeared.

  My dad lasted only a few weeks after my mom was killed. We were hiding in an abandoned hotel when they found us. There were so many of them that we didn’t stand a chance. He instructed me to climb out the window and down the long supply cable feeding power to the building. He said the cable would be warm, so he wrapped his sweater around my hands and told me to
go. I didn’t even say goodbye. I assumed he’d be right behind me. But he sacrificed his own life so that I could live, and all I have left of him is the memory and an unspoken promise to one day pay back his life debt to someone else in need.

  I was eight years old when that happened. Eight years old and an orphan. Left to fend for myself in the midst of a war with an unknown enemy. I was alone for two years before I met Smith and Kyle. I had been hiding in the sewers and any small places I could find, venturing out only once a week at night in search of food. I didn’t know whom to trust at the time. By then I’d found out about the Carbons, and I’d already witnessed what they were capable of. I didn’t know who was human anymore so when they found me, I ran. They followed me for miles until my muscles ached, and I couldn’t run any farther. It was a miracle we weren’t heard or seen by anyone else that day. They took me back to the base, and that was when I began my training.

  It took six weeks before anyone took me seriously when I said I wanted to be a Watcher. What could a ten-year-old child do? They laughed at the idea.

  But Kyle took me under his wing. He taught me how to blend in, how to be a shadow, and how to be invisible. He trained me just how he trained himself—hard and unyielding. Within a year, I was given a post. Two years after that and I was one of the best out there. Over the past eight years we have gone through many Watchers, Kyle and I being the only two constants for some time.

  Most sacrificed themselves for the safety of others. We have one rule—don’t get caught. If we’re caught, we have no other choice but to take our lives before the Carbons have a chance to discover where our base is and how many of us there are. They can get inside our heads, read our minds, and then take us all out one by one. This was our Plan B.

  That was why I kept to myself. If you get too close to anyone, you get hurt when they’re gone. I had made this mistake one too many times, I wouldn’t let myself get hurt like that again.

  I nearly fell out of bed when I heard the alarm go off. I was so wrapped up in my memories I nearly forgot where I was for a minute. Two beeps reverberated through the halls—there was an emergency somewhere.