Watcher (The Watcher Series Book 1)

by A. J. Eversley

  “We’re here. Open the doors, Sam,” I said into my comm.

  “Roger that,” he chimed back as the doors open.

  We were greeted by Smith who looked as if he hadn’t slept all night. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

  “Getting Kyle’s medication, of course.” I tried a smile; it didn’t work.

  “Don’t be smart with me, Sawyer. What took you so long, and what the hell is on your back?” he yelled.

  “A tunnel collapsed, blocking our route back, so we had to take the long way around,” I responded. “And this is Chevy.” Chevy barked his hello, making Smith jump back. I chuckled.

  “Just get to Doc, now.” Smith shook his head and moved aside.

  ~

  Doc was ready for us when we arrived.

  “How is he?” I asked as Kenzie handed him everything we had collected.

  “Worse. I’ve set up an IV in hopes that—yes! You found more fluids, thank God.” Doc rushed back to Kyle, setting up the fluids and injecting the new medication we brought. “We won’t know for about twenty-four hours if it worked. There’s nothing more we can do now but wait.”

  Exhaustion washed over me, but I couldn’t move. I stared through the glass at Kyle’s pale face, praying he could hold on a little longer.

  “Now you, little buddy, need a bath and a good brushing,” Doc said.

  “What? I can bathe myself, thank you very much.” I was taken aback.

  “No, not you, silly girl. Him.” He pointed to Chevy, still strapped to my back.

  “Oh.” I blushed. “Right, that makes more sense.” Kenzie was laughing at me, and I punched his arm playfully. He helped me get Chevy out and handed him to Doc.

  “I’ll have him cleaned and checked out. You guys should probably get some sleep. I’ll be sure to let you know about Kyle’s progress.” Doc smiled down at Chevy who licked his face excitedly.

  He was right. I was exhausted. My eyes were heavy as he spoke. As we walked back to our quarters, I stopped Kenzie. “Thanks, for helping me. For helping Kyle.” I squeezed his arm.

  “You’re welcome, Sawyer. I’m happy I could help.” Kenzie patted my hand before he walked to his quarters. As I opened the door and plopped down onto my bed, I couldn’t help realizing I was trusting Kenzie more than I usually would for someone I just met. He was still holding in secrets, but weren’t we all?

  I closed my eyes, and for the next nine hours, I was dead to the world.

  Chapter 19

  The sound of soft panting woke me from a deep sleep. I squinted one eye open and saw Chevy’s nose right in my face. He snuck in one big lick across my face before I pushed him back. I heard a soft chuckle from the door and turned to see Kenzie leaning against the doorframe.

  “What the hell is he doing here? He’s your dog!” I said as Chevy laid his thick head across my chest and sighed.

  “He chose his owner the minute he met you. Good luck getting him to leave your side.” Kenzie smiled again.

  I laid my head back down on my pillow and sighed. “Great,” I mumbled and looked him over. “What is he anyway?” I asked, reluctantly petting his smooth short hair, which I could see was dark charcoal, now that all the dirt had been cleaned off. His silver eyes shined brightly against the dark coat.

  “Doc thinks he’s a pit bull of some sort. Probably a runt or mix of some kind, he figures, because he’s quite small,” Kenzie explained, sitting down at the foot of my bed.

  “How does he know about dogs?” I wondered aloud. People hadn’t had pets in a long time. Most dogs were street scavengers that were nearly extinct even before the war began.

  “I have no idea.” Kenzie shrugged.

  Stretching out my arms over my head, I sat up, still yawning despite sleeping for so long. Chevy mimicked my movements as he stretched, letting out a wide yawn.

  “Any word yet on Kyle?” I asked.

  “None,” he said. “I mainly came here to let you know that it’s past supper time, but Theresa put aside a plate for you. You should probably eat.”

  He was right. My tummy growled as if knowing what we were talking about. I swung my legs over the edge and put my shoes on. I was so exhausted when I had arrived I didn’t even change.

  We walked to the mess hall, and not surprisingly, there was a steady pitter-patter right beside me.

  Theresa had a plate of food on the back table in the kitchen waiting for me when we arrived. It was still warm.

  “Oh no,” she demanded, looking down at Chevy. “I have enough mouths to feed without having to worry about a little mutt like you.” She wagged her finger at him. He whined softly and tilted his head to the right. “No, don’t give me that cute little stare. No puppy eyes from you will make me change my mind.” She turned her back to him, and he moved around to face her, sitting down right at her feet. He looked up at her, licking his chops.

  She broke. “Oh, all right then, but you’re only getting the scraps.” She filled a little bowl for Chevy and set it down in front of him. “Go on then.” She waved her hand toward the food, and he devoured the contents of the bowl, licking it spotless.

  ~

  After we ate, I decided I needed to blow off a little steam. A nervous energy was building up inside of me as I waited to see if the medication would work.

  I headed to the gun range, and Kenzie, sensing I needed a little space, left me alone. Chevy on the other hand had taken up the role as my personal shadow. Placing a set of earmuffs over his ears, I grabbed my gun. He curled up for a little nap, not bothered by the noise.

  After a few hours, I decided that was enough and headed off to check on Kyle. It had only been about twelve hours since we returned, but I was hoping for any news that might show the meds were working.

  “Any change?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” Doc said, wiping at his tired eyes.

  “Have you slept recently?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah, like three days ago, I think. I’m fine,” he said as he tried to stifle a yawn.

  “I can watch Kyle while you get some rest,” I suggested. He looked ready to argue, but another yawn caught him mid-way.

  “Oh, all right, you’ve convinced me. I’ll just take the cot in the back, in case you need me,” he said.

  Within minutes of him lying down, I heard his soft snoring. Chevy joined him, curling up behind his legs.

  Plopping down in the chair nearby, I stretched my legs. I rested my feet on the table as I watched Kyle. His breathing was methodical and slow. No change in his vital signs on the screen.

  I must have dozed off as I was woken up by a soft beep from the monitor. “Doc!” I yelled, fearing the worst. He jumped up so quickly that he rolled himself and Chevy right off the cot, toppling in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. After a few moments to untangle himself, he was on his feet and standing over my shoulder.

  “What? What happened?” he asked.

  “It beeped!” I said, pointing to the screen.

  Doc checked out the monitor. Looked from Kyle to the screen and back again.

  “Well?” I asked impatiently.

  “His fever broke,” he said. “The medication is doing its job.” He smiled, and so did I.

  “Oh, thank god!” I sat back down. Kyle was going to be okay.

  ~

  It took Kyle another week to recover enough to eat solid food. He looked a little more like himself, minus the thirty pounds he’d lost, but at least he wasn’t so pale anymore.

  Training continued with Kenzie, and I let him work with some of the other guys. Tenason marveled at Kenzie’s long-range accuracy, and I was happy to see him open up to someone, even if just for a moment before going back to his silent, solemn state. He hadn’t smiled since he lost his brother. He did, however, beat Kenzie every time in a long-range competition, but at least he had a little competition.

  “Do you practice in your sleep or something?” Kenzie teased him as he accepted defeat for the third time in a row.


  Tenason smiled with a slight shrug.

  “Okay, well if we’re going to erect a monument in your name one day as Greatest Shooter of All Time, maybe we should shorten your name. Tenason is a bit of a mouth full, maybe Tenny or T?” Kenzie said.

  Tenason flinched at the nickname his brother used to give him.

  “Tenason is fine. Sounds distinguished,” I chimed in, trying my best to defuse the awkward moment.

  Tenason gave me a knowing smile that silently said “thanks.”

  “Sir Tenason, it is.” Kenzie winked, and I saw Tenason’s body ease up. It was nice to see Kenzie trying his best to get Tenason back to normal. Slowly, Tenason was coming into his own, learning how to live as just one body.

  Byron taught Kenzie about cables and how to use them to travel across rooftops from building to building unseen. They rappelled down the stairwells and slid across the training room with ease. Kenzie was oddly good at every task we gave him, and I couldn’t help feeling he was still holding back. It still felt like he was hiding something.

  ~

  I set up a competition between the guys as we were all getting stir-crazy. Curiosity had me wondering how Kenzie would respond to something a little more realistic than our training sessions.

  One by one, the guys were matched up in a battle of hand-to-hand combat. Each round they either moved on, or they were out.

  I paired Kenzie with the toughest opponents. Each match, they’d compete in a best-of-five, hand-to-hand competition where they were scored based on knockouts, submissions, or tap outs. They didn’t end until one of them had won three rounds.

  First up was Byron. He wasn’t known for being a big tough guy, but his speed and lanky arms gave him an advantage that most didn’t realize.

  The two stood in the middle of the mat, ready to fight. “Okay, you have five rounds, no rules just fight. Ready? Begin!” I waved them in as Kenzie and Byron stepped back and got into position.

  Byron started off in a low stance, his gangly arms covering his face and leaving little room for Kenzie to advance. The two circled each other, assessing where they might see an opening or weak spot.

  Kenzie advanced first, moving in for Byron’s leg with a wide sweep, but he stepped easily out of the way and clipped Kenzie in the temple with a long, boney hand. Kenzie wobbled as he struggled to regain his footing, and Byron took advantage, aiming two jabs to the chin and one more to Kenzie’s side. Kenzie fell hard, and Byron had the first round.

  In the second round, Kenzie stayed back, realizing that Byron’s reach was more than Kenzie anticipated. He didn’t want to get caught like he did last time. The boys circled the mat, causing boos and jeers from an anxious crowd waiting for their turns.

  Kenzie stepped in, placing a tentative kick to the side of Byron’s leg which connected, but Kenzie exposed himself too much as he entered Byron’s space and narrowly ducked a left. Kenzie used this momentum to drive forward and take Byron down at the waist. The two sprawled onto the mat in a heap. Kenzie easily out muscled Byron, grabbing a hold of Byron’s exposed neck, causing him to tap out to avoid passing out.

  Kenzie had found his stride. He’d found Byron’s weakness and shot for his legs, bringing him down. Byron tried desperately to keep Kenzie at bay, but Kenzie grabbed Byron’s flailing arm and wrenched it back, causing Byron once again to tap out.

  Byron climbed up, shook out his arms and gasped for breath. Kenzie, on the other hand, looked no worse for wear. He advanced once again, going for Byron’s legs. Byron jumped out of the way, but Kenzie barely grabbed onto his ankle causing him to go down. Kenzie held on to his leg and twisted back, threatening to break the limb in half, forcing Byron to tap out one last time. Kenzie won the match.

  Two more guys lined up as Kenzie took a break. He slyly leaned against the wall beside me as he took a sip of his water. “Any tips for me, coach?” He smirked.

  “Don’t lose?” I shrugged, trying to avoid his stare.

  He leaned in way too close, and I had to stop myself from flinching back. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  Kenzie’s second match up was less of a challenge than I had hoped. Tenason made it to round two in the tournament, despite not being that great of a fighter. Kenzie proved this fast, beating him easily in only three rounds. He gave Tenason a forgiving smile as he helped him off the mat. Kenzie tried to go easy on him, but that wouldn’t matter with Tenason as he didn’t stand a chance regardless.

  In the last round, Kenzie was up against Brent, one of the strongest—albeit not the fastest—Watchers we had, aside from Kyle. Whoever won this match won the competition.

  It was a tough match for Kenzie as Brent was known for his fighting skills. Brent proved that right off the start as he hit first, right to Kenzie’s face. I heard a sickening crack and was certain Kenzie’s nose was broken as blood poured out, but he didn’t let that stop him at all.

  Kenzie dove under Brent’s next attack and slid to the right, aiming a jab to the ribs. He wasn’t going to win by trading punches.

  Kenzie kicked at Brent’s leg and it wobbled. A bright red welt had already formed on his thigh. Brent hit Kenzie again, clipping his chin which made Kenzie falter back. Brent went in for the finish, but Kenzie recovered fast. As Brent swung wildly forward, Kenzie reached for Brent’s arm and then swept his feet out from under him. In one swift move, Kenzie had Brent’s arm stretched out behind him, winching it back. Brent was forced to tap out before his shoulder dislocated.

  Kenzie won the first round.

  The second round was much quicker. Brent came out guns blazing. He was upset he lost the first round. Kenzie, however, had already figured out his tells and easily sidestepped an uppercut. Kenzie aimed a punch to Brent’s midsection.

  He heaved over, winded, and Kenzie jumped behind him, one arm tight around his throat, and the other holding it in place. Once again, Brent was forced to tap out before he passed out. He stepped back with a grunt of frustration. His eyes were lit with anger. He shook out his arms and stepped back in front of Kenzie. Brent knew this was his last chance. He had to come out hard to even have a chance of winning.

  Kenzie, however, was as calm as ever. Aside from the blood under his nose, he looked no worse for wear.

  Round three began in a flurry of fists. Brent was more strategic this time as he kept his hands up but moved into attack. He landed a few punches to Kenzie’s side and a kick to the same side. Kenzie kicked at the same leg over and over, and I winced at the sight, knowing Brent wouldn’t be able to walk on it tomorrow.

  Determination filled Kenzie’s eyes as he stepped forward, shifted his weight back, and aimed a left punch to Brent’s face. Brent wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way, and Kenzie’s fist connected with his head savagely. Brent swayed before he dropped to the mat. The lights went out behind his eyes. He was knocked out cold.

  Kenzie won all three rounds.

  There was a roar of cheers and whistles as the rest of the men ran up to Kenzie to congratulate him. Tenason checked on Brent, who was getting up.

  “That was brilliant, man,” Byron said, all smiles.

  “You did well, but I want a rematch.” Brent clapped Kenzie on the back as he swayed where he stood, Tenason under one shoulder for support.

  Kenzie caught my eye from across the room where I stood leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. He smiled and gave me a wink, causing those stupid butterflies to wake up in my stomach. I shook my head, but despite myself I was smiling too.

  Chapter 20

  “So what’s my prize?” Kenzie asked once we were alone, walking down the hallway toward the mess hall. “Day off? Do I get a trophy? Is it a pie? Do I get a pie?” His eyes were wide with excitement, and I couldn’t help laughing at him.

  “Definitely not pie.”

  He grumbled.

  “You get the satisfaction of knowing every guy here is now gunning for you,” I said.

  He looked me in the eyes. “And what about the girls?”

 
I laughed. “The only girl here knows you are no real competition at all.”

  “Yeah, right. Were you even watching? Brent had no chance against me, and that last stage is geared for him,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not Brent,” I said smugly with a smile.

  “Prove it!” He stopped, shoulders squared to face me.

  “What? Come on, I’m pretty sure you’ve got a broken nose, and you’ve probably got a slight concussion or something because you’ve clearly lost it. I’d hate for you to use that as an excuse for losing.” I tried to step around him, but he blocked my path.

  “I’m perfectly fine. Fit as a fiddle.” He swung his arms around, showing he wasn’t injured or sore in the least. In fact, he didn’t look like he had a scratch on him. I swore he had a black eye starting earlier that day, but he looked like he’d just woken up from a restful nap. I looked him once over.

  “You’re delusional. We should take you to Doc to check you out.” I suggested.

  “So pick something else if you’re so worried about me. Shooting? Archery? Who can outrun who?” He smiled eagerly, hoping he’d convinced me.

  I remembered our first baton lesson and smiled slyly at him. “Okay,” I purred, leaning into him, “I’ve got something.”

  He swallowed hard, and I saw him wondering what he’d put himself into, but he didn’t back down. Brushing past him, I walked into the training room and tossed him a baton. “First one to get three takedowns wins,” I said, stepping onto the mat.

  He smiled and nodded He took up a defensive stance on the other side.

  I unzipped my jacket and stretched out. I grabbed my baton and moved toward him. My baton struck first, connecting with his right shoulder before he could block it, but he was ready for the second swing as I spun around, aiming for his head. The baton whispered in my hands as I wielded it with perfect precision. He ducked in time.