The Watchers

by Reakes, Wendy

  New York

  Tom and Jay remained silentas they peered out of the nook to see the hostages still sitting on the platform floor in a tight group. From the recess of a doorway, they heard the terrorists issuing orders, telling the people to stay quiet or be killed. A woman was sobbing. A man requested toilet breaks. A child screamed for its mother. The Iranians were yelling, sounding like they were losing control.

  “So where are they…the Watchers?” Jay whispered vehemently. Suffice to say the kid’s theory had holes.

  “I don’t know. They’ll come. I just know they will.”

  Jay could tell that Tom Stone’s confidence was waning. “Kid! The siege has been going on for four hours. We’ve already been here sixty minutes, and still…nothing!” He looked for a glimmer of optimism in Tom’s eyes, something he could hold on to. But there was none.

  “There are no trains coming through,” Tom said.

  “Sure, that makes sense. The feds won’t meet these people’s demands easily. If at all! From what we’ve heard, they’ve requested their own train to take them out of the city. Our guys won’t do that.”

  “But the hostages! They’ve threatened to kill them. There are children...”

  Jay saw fear in the boy’s eyes. “Well, welcome to the real world, kid. What? You thought you could just get us down here and watch some sort of shoot-out where nobody gets hurt? You thought the Angels would come and kill the terrorists and then you’d get your little pictures and everyone would go home? You have no idea how these things work, kid. Not a damn clue.”

  “All right. All right. I get it, okay?!”

  A sound from along the track made them stop. One of the terrorists was talking on a cell phone demanding a train to take them out. He was threatening to shoot the hostages one-by-one if the authorities didn’t meet their demands. Jay could feel a bead of sweat trickling past his eye. He swiped it away with his handkerchief.

  Tom spoke under his breath. “What are we going to do?”

  Jay couldn’t answer. As far as he was concerned they were sitting ducks. The Watchers weren’t coming. Ever!

  Ten minutes later a train screeched to a stop alongside the platform. “They’re giving them a train,” Tom whispered excitedly. “They’re going to let them out. It’s over.” He rested the back of his head against the wall. The relief! Yes, he had been reckless, crazy even, thinking he could get away with a plan like that. Jay’s right to be pissed with him. But now it’s over. Thank God! A few more minutes and the terrorists would be gone and then they can get out of there. Okay, he didn’t have any shots of the Watchers, but at least they were alive, right!

  The train ground to a halt as the terrorists shouted instructions to the hostages. Sounds of voices filled the station as everyone's temper and fear increased. Tom peered out of the recess. The hostages were standing and he could see one of the terrorists with a rifle in his hand, forcing the prisoners onto the train.

  “Damn.”

  Jay pulled Tom back into the cover of the recess. “What?”

  “They’re making the hostages get onto the train.”

  Jay bit his bottom lip. “It makes sense. They won’t trust the feds,” he whispered. “The hostages are their insurance policy. Maybe they’ve promised to release them when they are far enough away from the city.”

  Tom was about to dart out of the alcove. “Come on.”

  Jay pulled him back. “What are you doing, you crazy…?”

  “We have to do something. They don’t know about us. They’ve taken everyone’s belongings from them. We’re the only ones with a cell. We can help the feds catch these bastards.

  “Really! You’re on a suicide mission, kid and I’m not getting involved. Not this time. No way. Besides, how can you afford phone time on a cell phone?”

  Tom took hold of Jay’s lapel. “Don’t you get it? The Watchers have let us down.” He looked once more around the corner of the alcove. “These guys need a hero and Stoney here is gonna save the day.”

  Jay shook his head and got up on his haunches, ready to make a dash for it. “I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”

  Tom grinned. “Nah. Not one bit.”

  Running with their bodies arched towards the ground, Tom Stone and Jay Pullman raced towards the end carriage of the train and placed themselves amongst the hostages, hidden from sight, as they boarded in an orderly fashion.

  Chapter 10

  Stonehenge, Wiltshire, England

  They had been talking for an hour amid the ruins of the Henge. The life the Watchers led was way beyond Mia’s comprehension; their culture, their survival, their history, aspirations…everything! None of it seemed real, and yet, without reservation, she believed every word Uriel had told her and she trusted him as she would trust the word of a lifelong friend.

  “We live a simple life in a place no human has seen and returned from,” Uriel said. “We worship our father and we live to sustain the mother earth, offering her our spirit and our strength of mind and body.”

  “Mother Earth!”

  He nodded. She sustains us too. We are all one spirit. She is everything we see and touch; every tree, every mountain and every cloud in the sky. She never leaves us. She feeds us and gives us her protection.”

  Mia nodded her understanding. It was a respectful and solemn response.

  “Why do you move in numbers? Is it to protect yourselves?”

  “We are bound by the blood in our veins. We cannot survive without each other. If one of us should die, the other six die.” Solemnly, he turned his head to look at the Angels standing beneath the stones. “We are brothers. We were born at the same time, on the morning of Earth’s winter solstice. We cannot function without each other.”

  “How do you know about the siege in the States? Is it through our technology?”

  “We learn a lot through your technology, but for the incident in America, we have communicated with our brothers. They have spoken to us as they often speak to us when they are troubled.”

  Mia imagined the great distance. “How do you communicate?”

  “Through the ley lines!”

  “Lay what?”

  "Currents of energy. Geographical alignments covering our planet. Our ancestors built monuments connecting them. This megalith…" Uriel raised his head, and swept his eyes over the stones, "was built on ley lines connecting sites of great importance to our culture and our existence; places like Avebury and Old Sarum."

  “You…I mean, the Watchers made these monuments?”

  “Of course…among many others around the planet. In a small window of time, our ancestors worked alongside your people. You call them the Druids, but to us they were Kudos. They were at one with us until your people worked to destroy them, sometimes by burning them alive or forcing them underground.”

  “The Druids?” Mia gasped. Pagans, worshippers of false gods…They were Kudos.

  “The ley lines are natural lifelines created as a guide for our people and for yours. They form links like veins, pumping life through the planet, circulating a spiritual supply. Your people dismiss them as myth.”

  She nodded. She had a crazy aunt who worshipped Angels. She always said she felt their presence when she prayed, like they were wrapping their arms around her to comfort her. Maybe her aunt wasn’t so crazy after all. “You said your brothers in America were troubled.” Mia’s questions had no order. She simply took whatever was in her head and ran with it. Uriel was unfazed by her erratic interrogation technique.

  He bowed his head. “They cannot reach the innocents who have been apprehended today. The structure has prevented them from connecting with the humans.”

  “But surely there are many things happening every day across our planet that you can’t help with. Why are you so distressed about this one incident? Aren’t you used to it by now?”

  She could see him smile. “We will never be used to it. It hurts us. It is an atrocity against our being. We cannot absorb or tolerate the hatred th
at breathes like waves through your culture. This is our weakness.”

  “And is this our strength?”

  He stared into her eyes as if he was never going to look away. "No! No, it is not."

  Chapter 11

  New York

  The three-carriage train moved slowly through the tunnel of Penn station, out into the open. The stowaways were at the end of the last carriage where some of the hostages were on seats and some on the floor of the aisle. Tom and Jay were crouched on the floor behind the back row of seats. No one had noticed them. Their presence had been lost among the crowd.

  An Iranian terrorist stood guard at the front with his rifle pointing at the people, ready to shoot anyone who gave them trouble. Permanent beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and ran down the side of his face. Someone said they could be ISIS, which meant big trouble for all of them.

  “So, what’s next, kid?” Jay whispered as he kept one eye on the guard at the other end of the carriage.

  Tom pulled his cell from his back pocket and pressed the on button. He’d turned it off just before he let off the firecracker in the station. He was pleased that he’d thought of everything. Not that anyone rang him anymore, but if they had, he wouldn’t have wanted it to ring and give them away. “I’m going to phone the feds.”

  Jay reached out and grabbed his hand, covering it with his own. “If you’ve got messages waiting, it’ll ring you. Then we’ve had it.”

  He quickly turned it off again. Jay had a point. "Okay. I've got a couple of seconds before it rings. I'll go straight into set-up and turn the sound off…put it on vibrate."

  “Well, you’d better make it quick, kid. I don’t fancy getting fried by these bastards.”

  Tom nodded and once more turned on the phone. As the display came up, he moved his fingers expertly, going to the correct call mode to change the ring to vibrate only.

  As an afterthought, Jay spoke. "Hey, why didn't you just turn the volume down on the side?"

  Tom stared at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t think of it.”

  “Man! Here I am…a sittin’ duck with a friggin’ technology expert.”

  Tom glowered. “This is new for me too, you know. I can’t think of everything.”

  Jay cast a glance at the guard with the gun. “Just get on with it.” He looked back and saw Tom pausing. “What’s wrong now?”

  “What’s the number for the Feds?”

  “For god’s sake. Just dial 911.”

  Chapter 12

  Downing Street, London

  When Alice burton made a privatecall to The President of the United States, it had been simply to offer encouragement. As it turned out, the call took nearly an hour, the longest she’d ever spoken to him since she’d taken office.

  Alice,” he said when the call was put through. She imagined him sitting in the oval office behind his desk, rocking in his chair as she too rocked in her chair. Alice had never been to the White House and so far, she hadn’t been asked. Maybe now, with her second term in office, he’d see fit to extend an invitation.

  “Good evening, Mr President,” Alice said. “I wanted to ring and offer my support during this awful time.”

  “That’s very good of you, Alice. We’re working through it.”

  “I’m told you have six different sieges across America.”

  “That’s right, ma’am. Five of them in main train stations; New York, Los Angeles Union, Union Station Chicago, Cincinnati Union Terminal and right here in Washington DC.”

  “Terrible.”

  “Yes, ma’am. The latest has come from our airport in Jacksonville, Florida. We have a lot of cleaning up to do.”

  “Of course. If there is anything I can do.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  “ISIS is spinning out of control.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But my people aren’t sure they’re ISIS.”

  “Oh!?”

  “Iranian extremists we fear, but we’ll have more news on that later. In the meantime, we’re trying to contain each location. The hostages…”

  “Anyone important?”

  “No, thank God,” he guffawed. She knew what he meant. If they were average citizens they were expendable, but someone with a high profile…now that was a different matter altogether.

  “While I have you, Mr President, our other matter…” Alice looked towards the closed door of her office. The ‘other matter’ was as classified as any matter could get.

  “I’m not sure if I have the time…perhaps we could reschedule another call.”

  “Yes, of course. Perhaps tomorrow.

  “Yes, tomorrow.” Then he hung up.

  Alice empathised with the Americans. They were going through an even rougher time than Britain and the rest of Europe. She was confident the UK could never get as bad as the States, but frankly, it may not even matter anymore. She recalled a story she heard once about the Great Fire of London. The city had become so rat and plague infested, so disgustingly unliveable, the royal society conspired to have it burned to the ground. It had been the only way to wipe out the stench and the disease. By destroying it, they had something to build on, but first, sacrifices had to be made.

  A bit like the sacrifices the people would be making in 2028, if everything went according to plan.

  Chapter 13

  Wiltshire

  One hour after her meetingwith the watchers, Mia was soaking in a hot bath thinking about the most spiritually defining moment of her entire life.

  After sitting on the damp grass for a whole hour, she’d requested they stand. She’d watched Uriel lift himself off the ground, using just the muscles in his legs as if he was weightless, or an athlete, fit, strong and healthy. He’d offered her his hand. She paused only briefly before she reached out, and then she gasped as their fingers connected. His skin was smooth and warm, his touch gentle and loving as if his fingers were caressing hers like a lover’s touch. He pulled her to her feet as if she was weightless.

  Mia shook away her fantastical emotions; like she was in love with him, as if she had been seduced. Was that the way of the Angels, to love? And was that the way of humans; to misinterpret that love? She didn’t know. She just knew she was confused. She stretched her legs and then bent down to brush the grass off the back of her jeans. “Earlier, you said your mother had left messages for us. What did you mean? What sort of messages?”

  Uriel moved away from her and walked to one of the great stones supporting the giant lintel above it. He lifted his hand and touched it, as if it was a living breathing thing. “There are messages all over the planet, etched by her. Have you heard of the drawings on the Nazca Plains?” He turned to face her.

  "Yes…I mean…kind of." She recalled a coffee-table book she'd seen at her aunt's. It showed giant drawings etched upon the rocky plains in Peru, in an area of about 37 miles long. An assortment of perfectly straight lines, many running parallel, as others intersected, formed a grand geometric form. In and around the lines were strange symbols and pictures of birds and beasts all etched on a giant scale, which could only be appreciated from the sky. They weren't widely known until the 1930's when an aircraft spotted them and claimed a striking resemblance to a modern airport. They had been constructed around 200 BC. “What is the message?”

  “Simply that the Angels were there to protect the earth, man and every living creature upon it. The central image depicts a primitive drawing of an Angel, but the explorers labelled it a condor.”

  “Incredible.”

  “The most modern messages are the crop circles your people call fake. They are created by the mother. Her message there is clear, yet your people do not see. They complicate the simplicity that is before their eyes. Man is blind.”

  “What are the messages?”

  He turned back towards her. “You can see for yourself. That is why we chose you.”

  “You chose me? Why?”

  “You have great psychic energy. You are one with the Earth. You can prosper and flo
urish when you walk the lines…the ley lines. You are one of many, but tonight this meeting is for you. There will be no other until we send for you.”

  She was about to speak. She couldn’t bear not to see them again.

  He stopped her. “You won’t know when or where, but when we send for you, you must come. The moment is imminent.”

  “I want more than anything to know more and to be with you again, even though I can’t imagine why you chose…”

  “Not you. One other. A woman. She can help us.”

  “Who is she?”

  “You will know soon.”

  “Can I contact you?”

  “It is possible, but it would be rare for us to respond. Many have tried and failed. We are not to be used for your purpose. What we do, we do of our own accord. We answer to no man.”

  “But how could I contact you…if I wanted to? Just as a matter of interest.”

  “Use the ley lines as others have. Find a dousing rod, a stick that has fallen to the ground. You may not tear it from the tree. Concentrate your mind on your message and we may connect with it. Or we may not.”

  Uriel pulled back from her as the Watchers under the lintels stepped further away into the blackness. The meeting was over.

  “Wait.”

  “You have one more question.”

  “Yes.”

  “You want to know the message of the stones. This place you call Stonehenge.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “It was built to collect the Kudos?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It is one thing to look farther than you see, but it is another to look too far.” He regarded the stones at the side of his magnificent form. “Your people are either too blind, or you read more into things than is required. This is a symbol of that. The Henge marks the place between life and death, what is real and what is not. It is the middle ground, infinity; it is nothing. It is everything.”

  “Please…” she stepped forward two paces. “Tell me what is going to happen? What were the messages for? Is it the end for us…?”