Bang! A single gunshot broke into the night.
The women screamed and the men groaned with disbelief while Jay watched Tom push his head back against the carriage wall. He was biting his bottom lip, looking as if he was praying.
The woman at the front was screaming. “Larry, Larry…”
Then Tom began muttering to himself. “It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.
A half-hour passed. The guard, who had left the train, had come back on board, but the hostage was no longer with him. Jay suspected his body had been dragged somewhere and perhaps a call made to the feds. ‘This is what we do to those who don’t comply with our demands’…or something to that effect. He looked at Tom. The kid was sitting with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his mop of black unruly hair. Jay kicked his foot. “You okay?” He kicked his foot again. “Hey, Tom…buddy!”
He looked up at Jay like a little kid lost. His eyes were glazed and his nose was red and moist. “It’s my fault. I’m responsible for that man’s death. If I hadn’t have stopped the train…I’m never going to be able to forgive myself.”
Jay felt a surge of compassion. Yes, the idiot had got them into that mess, but…well, he was just a kid. Jay started to blame himself. He shouldn’t have let Tom get so carried away. He should have seen it coming. Now the kid needed a little encouragement. “Nah, it probably would have happened anyway. You saw how they were behaving before the train stopped. They had already picked the guy out. The only difference is they shot him outside, instead of inside the train. At least his wife and the rest of us never got to see that.”
A yell from one of the hostages.
“What’s going on?” Tom whispered.
They looked around the back of the seat to the far end of the carriage.
The guards were gone!
Jay leaned across the aisle to an elderly guy sitting nearby. “Where are they?”
“They left the train.” He looked as baffled as everyone else. “And they left their weapons.”
Jay raised himself from the floor and peered through the crowd to the three rifles, now discarded on the floor at the end of the carriage. They had simply been abandoned. He crawled over to the window, cupped his hands over his eyes and looked through the glass, where he could just make out the silhouettes of the five terrorists walking towards the trees in the forest next to the track.
Tom tugged on his jacket. He had that familiar look of excitement in his eyes. “Come on.”
Just like a kid, Jay thought. He was over it already. “What? Come on where?”
“It’s the Watchers. They’re here.”
With fortitude in his step, Tom barged his way through the mass of people crammed into the carriage, some of them now straining to see out of the windows to the darkness of the night. He reached the end as Jay followed, both of them heading for the open door. Tom put his foot on the step outside and jumped off, landing with a thud on the rough terrain at the side of the track. He looked back to see the faces of the hostages peering out from the brightly lit carriage, until he turned and ran towards the trees, into the forest and onto the trail of the terrorists.
Jay was just behind him when Tom came to a stop next to a tree. They were both out of breath and panting for air. It was the altitude, he guessed. That or they were both nervous as hell. “I can hardly see anything,” Tom whispered.
“Me neither.”
"It's strange, though," Tom said as if a revelation had just hit him. "I don't know how, but I think I know where I'm going. It's weird."
“Well. I’m right behind you, kid. And if you’re correct, which I hope you are -otherwise we’re toast-you’re going to see your Angels one more time.”
“Yeah, cool.”
“Got your camera ready?”
“Oh, yeah!” He was grinning like it was his wedding day.
“Right, let’s go.”
They both ran ahead, keeping out of sight by ducking behind trees en-route, and darting among bushes. A clearing twenty meters in the distance stopped them in their tracks as Tom pulled Jay behind a tree out of sight. He signalled for him to move forward towards the edge of the area. There, they halted and fell to the ground on their shaking knees.
A feeling of Deja-vu hit him. Only last night, they had hidden near a similar clearing in central park. Ahead was a wooden picnic table and a large hollow log, lying at an angle on the hard earth. The moon was up on that side of the forest, lighting the clearing as if a single spotlight had lit up an arena where a battle was about to begin.
There they were; the five terrorists, inside the void of a circle of seven Angels. Two of the Iranians were crouched on the ground praying to Allah, and the others were standing, shouting undetectable words of abuse at the Watchers who were silent as they formed a circle about them.
The beings were magnificent. The power behind the strains of their muscles was boundless. Their legs were slightly parted like great towers of vacuum-packed meat, and their rippling stomachs were unyielding beneath chests protruding forth. The moon lit their features and as shadows became sucked into the hollow of their eyes, their expressions became even more haunting and terrifying.
As two Watchers stood to one side with their wings half erect, the other Angels each took a frightened man by his shoulder as if they were glued together. Five Watchers pinned five terrorists against five separate trees. The Iranians were hostages now and as each stood up against the trunk of an elm only meters apart, their faces leaned against the bark where the Angels stood behind them, their wings gradually rising as the mood of the occasion increased.
The five Iranian hostages began screaming for their lives.
The Watchers stepped forward and as their wings reached their peak, they become wrapped around the bodies of the men and around the width of the trees. The screaming peaked as the Angels resembled bats curled around a branch as the muscles in their backs and calves intensified. They were literally crushing the life out of the terrorists until they were no more.
An owl hooted from somewhere in the distance as a cloud of bats ascended into the moonlit sky.
Tom and Jay both gasped as they saw the Watchers step backwards, leaving nothing against the tree other than a mound of grey coloured dust worked into the grooves of the bark.
Then like icing crumbling from a cake, the dust fell to the ground.
Each Angel used the heels to grind the ashes into the dirt below the tree. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the men who had terrorised the people of America had been sent back to the earth from whence they came.
Sarah
South of England
Ted Barrow was afraid. Adrenaline was coursing through his body at the same time as the sound of his heart beating inside his eardrums.
Sarah’s frantic moans were muffled by the tape around her mouth, allowing only her eyes to demonstrate her fear. Ted had told her to be still, like a good girl, but again she had disobeyed him.
His plan had been to take her in his truck to a place where he could hide her for a little while longer, in a small part of the woods adjacent to his property. It was a small shed, which he had once owned before he started selling off his land piece by piece. But now, with the police about to descend on him, he knew he had no choice but to make a dash for it, taking little Sarah with him.
It was lucky he had been in the barn when the police had crept up the lane in their squad car towards the farmhouse. They had even dimmed their lights. He had to chuckle. They’d have to get up earlier than that if they wanted to catch out ol’ Ted Barrow.
Before they got closer, he had taken Sarah's hand and pulled her through the back entrance of the barn and into the field beyond. Despite his age, he found strength in his limbs to pull her along, trundling over rough dark meadows. He had to stop when they were confronted by a hedge of knotted brambles, but Ted knew there was a wooden stye within the thicket somewhere.
He found it.
He moved some of the foliage and uncovered a wo
oden step, telling Sarah to climb over. And as he followed, stepping through the hedge to the other side, there was another open field with a small babbling brook at its side.
Sarah was whimpering as he pulled her down the embankment, and as his feet splashed into the cold water, he pulled her along, until the water covered her soiled white socks up to her scratched and bruised knees.
Ted was panting as he splashed his way along the tiny stream and even though he knew there wasn’t much further to go, he suddenly gave up as his energy became so cruelly spent.
It saddened him, the revelation of being unable to take her to the place where she would be safe. He had only wanted a few more days with her. Just a few more days!
He stopped and stepped out of the cold water, falling against the rough grass verge, realising he couldn't go on. He dragged Sarah down next to him and as she struggled, he pushed her face away, so he didn't have to look into her eyes. He pulled a plastic bag from his coat pocket. With a pain in his heart, he swiftly covered her head and secured the opening around her neck so that no air could enter to give her life. She was kicking and squirming until her small limbs gradually flailed. Within seconds, her arms went limp as she finally gave up the fight.
Ted saw their reflection in the babbling brook. It was no surprise. He had already sensed they were there long before then. They were giving him instructions. He had no choice but to lay Sarah’s head gently against the soil on the grassy bank.
Then he stood up to face them.
The watchers were waiting on both sides of the stream as the water ran through the centre of their circle like a silver arrow. Ted walked into the middle, listening to their words, unable to disobey and as he waded he watched the water cover his legs to his knees.
The Angels closed in. They were formidable, yet they were fluid and graceful, and as they neared him, cutting through the water with purposeful strides, they embraced him within the folds of their wings until Ted Barrow knew no more.
They crushed him until the remnants of his old, tired body dropped away in a cloud of dust to the water beneath their feet. His ashes floated along the stream in a darkened frenzy, where the water caressed the earth and swallowed him under its gushing tide.
Uriel moved to the side of the bank as his brothers waited. He stooped down and picked up the child, Sarah, into his strong, gentle arms. He took the bag from her head and rolled it into a tiny ball within his clenched fist until there was nothing left of it to litter the land. He locked his powerful lips to hers, so soft and yielding, and then he breathed gently into her mouth, slackened in near death.
She did not stir, but he could feel her tiny heart beating under her sodden clothes. Uriel lifted her up and carried her back to the place they called home; to Caer Sidi.
And as the earth around them settled back to its natural calm, one more sound in the distance broke the silence of the night. It was the sound of Ted Barrow’s one hundred pigeons, taking flight as they were released from their rotting confines.
End of Part One
Part Two
"Perfect is my seat in Caer Sidi
Neither plague nor age harms him who
dwells within.
Manawydan and Pryderi know it.
Three organs play before it about a fire.
And around its corners are ocean's currents.
Above it the fertile fountain,
And sweeter than white wine is the
drink therein."
Chapter 15
London
Keri Rains closed her office door and went back to her desk. She needed some privacy. The Prime Minister’s ‘open-door’ policy was becoming awkward for her and many other members of the house. In Keri’s opinion, the PM was trying too hard. Alice Burton wasn’t the first lady Prime Minister. She didn’t have to prove her worth by promoting herself as the people’s choice, not when she had already taken the majority in the election.
Alice Burton was already a week into her second term in office and again the walls were rattling under the weight of her reign. ‘A people person’ she called herself, but everyone who knew her, knew she was not. Just as she had in her first term, she was keen to try new policies, new housekeeping regimes and new staff incentives. She wanted to prove to the country she was all about people, ready to stand by the population of Great Britain and to turn the country around, to make it great again.
Keri sat down in her revolving leather chair as she picked up the phone. She dialled Harry’s number at work. “Harry Rains, please.” They put her through almost immediately.
“Hiya, kiddo.”
“How are you?”
“I’m okay. You?”
“You know.” They both knew exactly what each other meant. It was going to be Elizabeth’s birthday next week. And as they had both suffered the loss of their daughter, the upcoming event was on both their minds, as it was every year. “Yeah, I know.” There was a long uncomfortable pause before Harry spoke. “Look, Keri. This probably isn’t the right time...”
Somehow she knew what he was going to say. She and Harry had separated over a year ago. Their marriage hadn't survived the loss of their girl. They'd tried at the beginning, but eventually, they knew it was never going to be the same again. "What is it?"
“I’ve met someone.” He was cautious with his words, knowing what her reaction was going to be.
She wasn’t completely surprised. “Don’t, Harry…You need to think about Elizabeth here. What is she going to say when she comes home and sees you with someone else? She won’t understand.” Keri attempted to catch her breath, but her non-filtered emotions were spilling out of her mouth now. “We’ve got to try and keep things as they are, Harry. We talked about it, remember? We agreed.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”
“You can. You can help it, for God’s sake.”
“Keri, it’s all right for you. You have enough faith in her coming home for the two of us. I can’t be as optimistic as you.”
“Bull.”
“Keri…”
“Are you coming next week or not?”
“I’m sorry…I’m not.”
“Fine. I’ll go alone.”
“Keri!”
She could hear in his voice the discomfort he felt. Good! “Don’t worry about it, Harry. It’s only her twelfth birthday. Nothing special!”
“Look, stay in town. We can have dinner, celebr...I mean, just be together in a restaurant, like normal bloody people.”
“Normal?” She wanted to slam the phone down so hard he’d go deaf. “What’s so normal about celebrating our child’s birthday, when we don’t know if she’s dead or alive?”
Keri could feel her voice breaking. She wiped a tear from the side of her eye. She wasn’t going to cry. She was too angry. “Look, Harry, don’t decide now. We’ve got a few more days. But, if you don’t come, I am going alone. Elizabeth was born on the solstice and so that’s where I’m going to be, just like we’ve always gone for her past two birthdays.” She took a breath. “And when that sun comes up over Stonehenge, I’m going to be praying for the both of us, because you won’t be there with me.”
Son-of-a… she thought as she slammed down the phone.
Chapter 16
Wiltshire, England
On the 1st June 2026, Mia was once more at Stonehenge. It wasn’t so much a duty, but more like she knew she just had to be there. It had been a week since she last saw the Watchers; a week since Tom had emerged safely from the siege in New York City; and it had been a week since she’d begun her quest to seek out the Watchers so that she could see their world, maybe even stay there with them. If they’d let her. The only person she’d told about her decision was Tom. As far as her parents knew, she was off glamping with her friends from school. She’d asked Tom to go with her, but he wouldn’t entertain it. ‘But I’ve told you all I know,’ Mia wrote when she’d messaged him. ‘How can you not want to come with me? How could you not want to get away from thi
s crazy existence in this crazy world? How could you not want to be with them? How can you not want that?’ She didn’t get it.
His response was flippant, but that was just Tom. ‘What, live on a cloud or something? I don’t think so. I’d miss my X-box.” She’d imagined him grinning at his own senseless wit.
He irritated her beyond belief. He wouldn’t take her seriously. Yes, not many people would just up and leave their family and their normal existence to go live with Angels. It was weird, but that was what she was prepared to do. She couldn't fight it. She didn't want to fight it. She just wanted to be with them. When she'd sat with Uriel and he'd told her about the Watchers and where they lived, she was breathless with excitement. Their world sounded pure and beautiful, not of this place, a dimension that no one could access unless the Watchers wanted them to. ‘It’s not like that. It would be more…spiritual…like heaven or something,’ she wrote.
‘So, wait until you’re dead. You’ll see it then won’t you?’
‘I don’t want to wait that long.’
‘You could get run over by a bus tomorrow, then you’ll be happy, eh?’
She knew he was cross at her. He was lashing out because he wanted her to want to be with him, just as she’d always said she’d wanted. ‘Well, I don’t care what you say. I’m going…if they’ll let me.’
‘How are you going to get them to do that? You know what they said. They will contact you when the time is right. You’ve been at Stonehenge every night for a week and they still haven’t responded to your vibes.’
He’d highlighted ‘vibes’ with inverted commas. Sarcastic idiot! ‘They’re not vibes. I use a dousing rod to communicate through the ley-lines. It’s how I told you, Tom.’
‘Look, hun, I’ve gotta go. Speak tomorrow, okay?’
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