The Watchers

by Reakes, Wendy

  There was a pause the other end of the phone. He was thinking about it. Well, she’d give him ten seconds and then maybe she should mention the special bonus she’d given him last year.

  When the whole Sous Llyndum incident had gone wrong and Colonel Geoffrey Barnes was regrettably killed, Harry Rains had cleared up the mess. It was Harry who’d arranged the seizure of Barnes’ papers and it was Harry who had sifted through the lot and destroyed every piece of paper, which could have acted as incriminating evidence if it had gotten into the wrong hands. Once everything had been taken care of, Colonel Geoffrey Barnes was given a military funeral befitting his rank and his devoted service to his country. The clear up had been Harry Rains best work.

  “She’s in Wiltshire…Stonehenge,” Harry said.

  “Stone..? What’s she doing there, for god’s sake?”

  “It’s the solstice…our daughter’s birthday.” His voice drifted off.

  “So?”

  There was another pause. “Many go there on the solstice. It’s the new dawn….”

  “I know what the solstice is Harry. What I don’t know is why on earth Keri has gone there. What? She’s some sort of new-age traveller now, is she?” Alice would laugh if she didn’t feel so stressed out.

  “I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon. She’ll probably pick up her messages shortly.”

  "Well, I hope so, Harry. There's some stuff going on here and I need my people around me. Get hold of her as soon as you can. As soon as you can, Harry. Do you hear me?"

  Alice heard the line go dead. They must have been cut off. Damn ancient phone system, she grumbled.

  Chapter 29

  Jay Pullman sat in a pavement café on a hill in Glastonbury town centre. The Tor was in the distance, with the tower at the top looking as if it was mocking him, like a single finger, erect! He turned his attention to the daily newspaper resting on the table next to his empty coffee cup. The English tabloid featured a picture of a bare-breasted girl on the inside page. Jay was contemplating the feasibility of her boobs being real, or not, when his interest went to a headline on page four.

  Afghanistan's resources could make it the richest mining region on Earth.

  Afghanistan, often dismissed in the West as an impoverished and failed state, is sitting on $1.5 trillion of untapped minerals, according to new calculations from surveys conducted jointly by the Pentagon and the US Geological Survey.

  The sheer size of the deposits – including copper, gold, iron and cobalt as well as vast amounts of lithium, a key component in batteries of Western lifestyle staples, such as laptops and cell phones – holds out the possibility that Afghanistan, ravaged by decades of conflict, might become one of the most important and lucrative centres of mining in the world.

  In Washington, a Pentagon spokesman told reporters that the economic value of the deposits may be even higher. ’There's an indication that even the $1.5 trillion figure underestimates what the true potential might be,’ he said.

  The people in Iraq are maintaining that the US and British-led invasion of their country was in order to control the oil wealth, Afghans can often be heard griping that the West is after its "hidden" natural treasures.

  Last night the Prime Minster, Alice Burton, commented "The natural resources of Afghanistan will play a magnificent role in Afghanistan's economic growth. This is a cause for rejoicing. There is nothing to worry about."

  Jay whistled. “One and a half trillion dollars plus! Nothing to worry about. Yeah, right.”

  He closed the newspaper and turned it to the crossword on the back page as he pulled out his pen.

  Last night in the bar, he’d decided over a glass of beer or two, that if he didn’t locate Fran within the next twenty-four hours, he was going to go to Stonehenge, find the kid, and get the hell out of that cold bitch-of-a-country and back to New York where he belonged. He stabbed the crossword with his pen. One across, four letters: Missing. He didn’t hesitate when he wrote the answer into the grid: Lost. “Yeah, aren’t I, though?” he muttered to himself as he searched for one down.

  Chapter 30

  “This is impossible,” Keri said.“I’m dreaming.” No one responded, least of all Tom. They all remained in stunned silence, gaping at the landscape, trying to digest the scene and the details within the scene. It was more than any of them were prepared for, more wondrous and exotic than any of them could have imagined. As far as Tom was concerned, the fabric of the world, which lay out before them was simply inexplicable.

  A white cloud was coming towards them in the distance. The air-spirits were back. Their weightless forms mingling with the air above the quiet sea, as dark blue as a fresh water lagoon.

  Tom and the others watched as two of the maidens separated and flew down towards the terrace they were standing on. They were heading straight for him. His hair and his clothes blew about when they got closer as if he was caught-up in a wind-tunnel. The two maidens reached out their gentle arms and wrapped their whole spirited bodies around his. Then, as he screamed, they lifted him from the ground as if he was a feather floating on a gentle breeze.

  The scream escaped his lips like a high-pitched squeal. The height of his carriage over the sea was vast and terrifying and he felt that any minute now they would realise he was too heavy and they would release him into the depths of the ocean where he would surely break his neck. But, as he orientated himself, he saw their faces smiling their reassurances, allowing him to put his trust in them as they glided with unfaltering grace across the water towards land.

  They played with him for a while. They swooped like gulls and rose again as they laughed at the noises involuntarily escaping his lips. They were teasing him until he had no choice but to pray they would soon realise that now wasn't the time for kidding around. He took a peek over his shoulder and saw Keri being carried away in the same fashion by another two nymphs. She looked stricken with terror and as her hair lashed her eyes, she closed them tightly, comforted by her temporary blindness.

  Behind her, another two spirits had gathered up Mia as she held onto Charlie like a mother and her baby. They swept them up into the sky.

  Jesus was the only one left on the ledge with a lone maiden hovering over his head like a ghostly halo. He appeared abandoned as he watched the spectacle of his human companions flying over the underworld’s landscape, wrapped in, what looked like from a distance, a gust of air blown in by Neptune himself.

  Tom was finally released onto the shoreline, where the two spirits left him to go back for Jesus. His land-legs gave out, and he fell to his knees while his body trembled as if it would never stop. He was on a beach made of the finest sand he had ever seen and as he raked his fingers over it, it cascaded through them like the delicate sands of time. He did it again, enjoying the texture of it caressing his skin. Then, as it sieved back onto the beach, a single white stone was left in the palm of his hand. He knew what it was. It was a diamond; lusterless and priceless. He dragged his fingers through the sand once more and found another. They were everywhere; raw, uncut diamonds, scattered like common pebbles on a beach.

  In the arms of the air spirits, Mia felt herself gliding to the shore where Tom and Keri were now standing. She landed on the white sand as Tom took hold of her to anchor her to the ground. They all stayed to watch Jesus make his descent. He was laughing, looking as if he was remembering a time when he was a boy and what it was like to ride a wave.

  When he was released upon the shore, a voice addressed them all. “They like to give you fun on your first flight.”

  Mia spun around and saw Uriel standing on the shore behind them, alongside six Angels. She took a tentative step forward. “Is it you?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he answered without moving his lips.

  “It was you who brought us here?”

  “Yes.”

  "Is it because you were answering my prayers?" She suddenly felt childlike, as if she was like a little girl unsure of what to say to strangers. Not because of
her small size against his formidable stature, but because she felt blessed to be on their territory as if she was a newcomer to heaven itself.

  “You can leave your dog, here. He will be cared for.”

  "Well, I…" Mia didn't want to let Charlie go until she saw him chasing a crab along the beach.

  “We have matters to discuss, but we don’t have much time.” He waved his hand for them to follow. “Come,” he said.

  Keri Rains was thinking about Harry, wishing he was there. She was out of her depth, weak and vulnerable, and pretty much useless down there in that strange world. The others seemed to understand what was going on, but she didn’t. She didn’t understand it at all.

  They were the Watchers; she could see that. She had seen some illustrations in the newspaper even though they really did no justice to the real thing. No, the illustrations did nothing for the strength of their bodies nor their great beauty…and their magnificent wings.

  And the underworld place! She had no idea how they would ever find their way back to civilisation. If what they were saying about the Kudos was true, that they were the chosen ones, then why was she there? She'd never seen a Watcher, nor spoken to one and if their criteria were for people who were true of heart, she most of all, could never satisfy that requirement, not after the evil thoughts she'd pondered over time and time again, condemning the men who took her child.

  Now, as she followed the group across the beach, she looked back one last time to the terrace protruding from the sheer cliff of the mountain, and she wondered that if she wanted to, could she go back?

  Tom stared at the wonders of that place underground, wonders he was finding difficult to comprehend. He had his hand upon his camera case. It was strapped to his back and it dangled behind his arm as a constant reminder that it was there. And like an addict yearning for a fix, he wished he could take a few shots to mark their arrival in that blessed place. He put his hand on the button to release the cover on his pack.

  Just a couple of shots….

  He could see Mia walking in front of him, at the side of the Angel called Uriel. Tom remembered how cross she had been in the past few days when he’d tried shooting everything in sight. Now, he took his hand away from his bag and hitched it onto his shoulder. Maybe later, he thought. Maybe later.

  Jesus had removed his shoes, walking across the sand with his bare feet. He could see the tattoos on his toes, which he had etched himself in the seventies with blue ink and blood. LOVE was scribed on the right, and HATE on the left, with the H on his big toe under a sprig of wild grey hair.

  His toes gripped the sand as he paced behind Mia, feeling like he was walking on sifted flour. The sensation made him feel euphoric, as if every step he took, his old tired feet were being caressed by the healing power of the sand.

  Jesus was in Heaven there in that strange land. Somehow he had always known that was where his destiny lay. His future was there in that place underground, with those perfect beings and the scenery of indescribable beauty. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to leave that place now, and if they’d have him, he meant to stay, forever!

  Chapter 31

  The Watchers led them down paths of random size stones patterned with sea shells. It was the only unnatural feature Mia had seen so far. The rest of the world seemed as if it had always existed, even before time began. Clearly, the Watchers had created the winding paths, just as a human would plant a garden and adorn it with decorative slabs.

  Mia stopped walking and crouched down so that she could see the detail. Embedded in the stones and bordering the shells, were shimmering pearls, looking like an eternal precious necklace. The questions that Mia had running through her head were making her lose concentration. She was tired, exhausted even, as if she had been drained of all energy. She stood up and looked at Uriel as he walked on ahead. “How long have you lived in this place?” she said. The group stopped and waited for his reply and Mia could see Tom up ahead using the toe of his shoe to inspect the pearls along the path.

  “We have always inhabited Caer Sidi. Mother Earth created it for us, a very long time ago. We needed somewhere to place ourselves while here on earth. Many underground worlds have been created for us across the planet. Some have even been discovered by man, but they don’t know what they were before they intruded. They call them lost cities.”

  Mia went closer so that she could see his expression. "I'm surprised it's so bright here, so light and…airy."

  “It is our life-source. We could never survive in darkness. We are creatures of light.

  “Then why do you only appear at night up there?” Her eyes went up towards the vast cavernous ceiling.

  “We have to be protected by the cover of darkness, but we can’t tolerate it for very long. We are reinvigorated in our own habitat.”

  They continued moving along the path until they came upon some cave-dwellings, each one fixed to the next and stacked one above the other and side-by-side, unsystematic and varied in shape and size. The entrances, void of doors, were startlingly random. They looked as if they had been made with a sledgehammer, forcefully smashed like broken egg shells. The primitive apartments stretched over hills at the edge of the chequered fields towards the back rock wall of that incredibly mammoth cavern. There were no lights inside, only blackness. Everything she saw seemed to contradict all that was said about the place the Angels resided.

  In the distance not far from the dwellings, Mia could see a waterfall cascading into a lagoon. The white frothing water charged over a giant face looking as it had been carved into the rock, but when she looked again, she saw it was a natural feature, resembling a human face. She recalled the mask on the door of Jesus’ van and equated the two. She called out to him as he trailed behind. “Jesus, look.” She pointed to the rock and Jesus stopped dead in his tracks. His expression turned into a grimace as he fell to the ground on his knees. She ran back and knelt beside him. “What is it? Are you ill, Jesus? What’s wrong?” She knew then what he meant to her, that without him there at her side, she would be utterly lost.

  She could see his hands shaking as he ran them over his wrinkled eyelids. “No, I’m alright. I’m sorry…It’s all too much.” He looked again towards the rock and the waterfall rushing over the face. Around it, green tufts of grass and other foliage decorated the features like hair. “Everyone says the green man is a fable. I didn’t expect to see anything like that here. It’s too much at once!”

  She kneeled beside him. "But this is what you've been working towards. You've been praying you'd visit the Watcher's world and you said yourself it was inevitable we would find the answers to myths and legends here. You said that was how folklore started; from something real."

  He nodded as he averted his eyes to the backs of his hands. His fingernails were yellow and black, from years of smoking and his skin was covered in permanent lines. “Yes, and now I am simply overwhelmed. This is like heaven to me.”

  Tom returned from his place in the lead. He was now standing next to Jesus as he crouched on the floor with Mia. He leaned down and placed his hand under Jesus' arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on," he said with a tenderness Mia didn't recognise from him.

  Jesus took a greying handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. Then he inhaled deeply and said. “Thank you, Tom. I am all right now.”

  Up ahead, Uriel spoke as they continued walking along the path. “Prepare yourselves,” he said. “There is more, and you must be ready.”

  Chapter 32

  Jay discarded the newspaper on the table and paid the bill in cash. Ten pounds for a cup of weak coffee and a rubber sandwich. That was…what, twenty-five bucks? Extortionate! He was beginning to wonder what on earth he’d been thinking, going off to England like that, trying to find a woman who clearly didn’t want to be found.

  He tugged his jacket from the back of the chair, thinking all the while that maybe he should just forget about Fran Shriver…find a different girl, settle down, have kids…when, ju
st behind him, to his left, he heard a voice.

  “Are you the American looking for a girl called Fran?”

  The woman was dressed in dark robes, like some sort of Celtic witch. She looked about fifty or more, shorter than he, maybe 5'6". She was putting all her weight on one side, leaning on a cane covered in metal badges, emblems and symbols. At the top, she clutched the horns of a gazelle between her fingers of her right hand. Her dark blue embroidered dress draped from a square neckline down to her feet, where one set of toes seemed to be adorned with silver rings. The other foot was bare under her brown sandal but it didn't look like the other, nor moved like the other. Then it occurred to him it was artificial. Jay couldn't help staring. A flesh coloured plastic foot with barely defined toes.

  He looked up at her face and was momentarily embarrassed for staring at her feet. Coloured beads hung from her neck; her arms were covered in bangles; her hands were encrusted with bejewelled rings, and her ears held hoops of silver and studs of yellow and pink stones. Her long untamed black hair mixed with strands of grey was tied back with a purple fringed scarf, allowing the curls to cascade down the back of her neck. Her face was tanned and wrinkled from too much sun, and her teeth, all her own, were straight, but they were shaded yellow.

  Jay thought she may have been quite a looker when she was younger. She still had attractive features under the aged skin of her face and her eyes were still a piercing green, made more striking against the darkness of her attire. “Excuse me,” he said. “You are?”

  “Name’s Maggie.”

  Jay slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t know what else to do with them. He still hadn’t got used to the strange people who roamed Glastonbury. It was like a Mecca for weirdoes. “You have some information about Fran?” He felt a tinge of optimism.