The Watchers

by Reakes, Wendy

  Life twer sweet with ne'er a vrown,

  Oh let us bide on Imber Downe”

  Anon.

  Chapter 49

  Harry Rains was expected.He arrived at Downing Street at exactly 18.00 hours and went straight in. Alice Burton was behind her desk, stacking papers she had just signed. “Harry. I’m glad to see you here. What do you make of all this business with Keri, for heaven’s sake?”

  The door closed softly behind Harry as he stepped further into the room. He sat down on the seat on the other side of Alice Burton’s desk. “I’m here to take you down there as soon as you’re ready.”

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Now hang on a minute, Harry. I’ve got some serious issues going on here and I certainly don’t have time to go off on some wild goose-chase just because your wife gets hysterical on the phone.”

  "Actually, she wasn't hysterical. She was pretty calm, Prime Minister. And I realise of course, that it all sounds farfetched, but Keri's not one for fantasy." Harry coughed, which allowed him a moment to change his tone. It wasn't easy talking to Alice Burton. She was the P.M but she was also an old friend. "How much did she tell you?"

  “It was all so rushed.” She leaned forward on her desk as her lower arms propped her up. “I wanted to know where she’d been and what the hell she was thinking going off like that when I’ve got so much on my hands…” Alice was moving her eyes from one side to the other, recalling Keri’s garbled message. “She said the Watchers wanted to meet me…The Watchers, for god’s sake, Harry. As if I would meet with those murderous thugs. Besides, I’m not sure they even exist...All the stories about them are wildly speculative…all this talk about them coming from some divine place and now they’re trying to save us from ourselves…I mean, come on!”

  “Many believe they do exist.”

  “Conspiracy theorists. Science-fiction fanatics. People who have got nothing better to do than spread silly rumours.”

  “I don’t believe Keri would make all this up, Prime Minister. Especially when she’s also saying she’s found our little girl.” His voice croaked.

  Alice Burton’s eyes softened. “To be honest, Harry, it was that little revelation, which made me think Keri had become unhinged. I mean, Elizabeth…somewhere surreal…being kept hostage by the Angels. Now, I can understand what you’re feeling here, Harry. I really can, but it all sounds so ridiculous. You must see it from my point of view.”

  Harry nodded and looked to the floor. “So, what are you going to do? Keri says it’s a matter of life or death. Our daughter’s life is at stake here.”

  He watched Alice Burton nod her head while she moved some papers on her desk. She was thinking and she was playing for time. “All right, Harry. People will call me crazy, but I will go. The thing is, I’ve been meaning to go down to Wiltshire anyway to check out…well, never mind, but it will give me a chance to deal with something else, so I suppose I can go tonight.”

  Harry released an audible sigh. He had started to wonder if she’d ever agree to the meeting. “You have to be there at midnight.”

  “Yes, so I understand. It’s a strange place to meet. I’ll have to take some security.”

  “Keri said to come alone. Just you and me.”

  “Well, despite what your wife says, I am the Prime Minister and my team would never allow that and frankly, neither would I. That place is spooky at the best of times, without going there in the dead of night, alone. No, I will need protection…I won’t do it otherwise.”

  “Okay, but I’ll tell her we’re coming alone. I don’t want her more upset than she already is.”

  “You do that, Harry. You do that.”

  The village of Imber was deserted, but at that time of night, Alice Burton would have expected little else, since nothing much changed at that place, not even in the day.

  She had been there once before. It was over four years ago when she'd accompanied the previous Prime Minister on a field trip. They were there to discuss the feasibility of additional space for the enormous quantities of priceless art, artefacts, rare books, and so on, which they would need to store when the time came. It had been a productive visit. The plans had been agreed and finalised, the funds put in place -under the radar-and the work set in motion for completion by early 2023. Now the steel door impenetrable chambers were completed and already some precious artefacts had been stored.

  Imber was an isolated village on Salisbury plain, which had been requisitioned by the War Office one week before Christmas in 1943. They had moved the villagers out with the assurance they could return after the war. They never kept their promise and the ghostly town had remained void of normal life ever since. The ruins of the once industrious town had remained standing all those years and even though the residents were now all dead, the deeds still held their names. For all the good it did. Any claim on the properties were no good to man or beast. They were worthless now and they always will be.

  “What is this place?” Harry looked out of the car window at the deserted buildings ahead of them. He saw what Alice saw; a ghost town surrounded by unkempt, tangled grass threatening to cover the road like a spreading virus. “I’m half expecting to see tumbleweeds blowing past us. It’s like the wild west out here.”

  Alice remained silent. She could see the first building as the car slowed down. The driver had already turned the lights on full beam since there had been no other light when they’d turned off the main drag. In front of them was the old pub with the sign ‘The Bell Inn’ still hanging and blowing in a non-existent breeze, like ghostly fingers were rocking it back and forth.

  Once filled with forties life, offering a smile to its thirsty inhabitants, The Bell Inn was now a shell with no doors or windows, black inside with an eeriness that cast no welcome for Alice Burton and her entourage.

  “We use the site for arms practice and strategic development. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it. It’s certainly no secret.” Alice was tired. She’d had little rest since they left London.

  Harry shook his head. "No, I've never heard of it. Ever!"

  Alice could hear speculation in his voice. It was the usual alarmist reaction she got from civilians. The public was always suspicious of their government, conspiracy theories commonplace. Nothing ever changed.

  “I have heard that Salisbury plain has a network of disused subterranean tunnels, but I never believed it.”

  "Of course, they exist. That's no secret either. They were used for arms storage during the war. Most of the tunnels have been filled in now, and the entrances blocked off…for security reasons."

  “Security reasons?”

  “The public like to explore. It’s been cordoned off for their own protection.” She turned her head to look at his puzzled expression. “There’s no conspiracy here, Harry.” Alice thought about the cages and armoured walls now lining the tunnels, already filled with art that would make a collector fall to his knees and weep. Some of the reproductions, now hanging on the walls of the National Art Gallery had been displayed long before they’d begun the campaign four years ago. Fortunately, the curators already had copies of their most priceless pieces, so that loans could be made with other galleries around the world. Not that it mattered any more. Not since they closed all the city's tourist attractions, including the Tate art gallery. The rest of the items now stored below ground had never been on public display anyway. Other locations across London, like Buckingham palace and St James's, were left with bare walls and a sign, ‘removed for restoration', allowing them to transfer the treasures without too much disruption. Even the royal family didn’t know about it.

  Alice thought about the vault which would eventually house the crown jewels. That vault and many others, now containing rare documents and manuscripts, had been designed like the system at The Vatican archives. It was impenetrable and indestructible, a place that could remain unmanned and where the items would stay intact for many years into the future. It had cost £700 million to install and
worth every penny in Alice’s opinion.

  “What time is it, Harry?” She always asked the time, even though she was never without a watch.

  He tugged his cuff and pressed a button on the side of his Rolex. It was a gift from Keri, a year before they’d lost their little girl. The light from the watch lit the interior of the car. “It’s nearly time.”

  Alice pressed a button on her phone and held it to her ear. “Let’s get everyone into position,” she said. “I want to be ready when those monsters get here and I don’t want any surprises.” She ended the call and kept the phone in her hand. She was trembling a little when she spoke to Harry one last time. “You’d better wait here. The Watchers don’t know you and frankly, you’re a civilian.”

  "Now wait a minute, Alice. My wife will be here too, any minute now and I intend to be waiting for her. You're not going to stop me."

  The Prime Minister shrugged. “Suit yourself, but stay out of the way.” She turned her body towards him. “When the Angels come, -if they come-this whole thing is going to kick off and I don’t need you getting hurt.”

  Harry stared out of the window. “I’ve got news for you, Alice,” he said pointing towards the windscreen. “They’re already here!”

  Chapter 50

  Mia turned right and took the road towards Imber. They had almost got lost since there weren’t any road signs to guide them. It was as if the village on Salisbury Plain didn’t even exist.

  Earlier, back at the house, while Keri had made more phone calls, she and Tom had taken her father’s car and driven back to the fields opposite Stonehenge. It was a familiar sight as they pulled along the side of the road. It was early morning on the eve of the solstice and the place was packed with die-hard pagan worshippers.

  After they'd parked and demobilised the car, they'd walked through the masses of shelters and camps, where they eventually located the spot where Mia had pitched her tent. It was hard to believe that it had only been twenty-four hours before when they had all sat in a circle at the side of the stones and found the entrance to the Watcher's otherworld. Now it seemed like time had stood still, but judging by the disarray of her camp, it looked as if she'd been away for a whole week. Her equipment had been taken and her tent commandeered by two couples cuddling beneath it with their heads and torsos concealed from the chill of the night, with their eight feet poking out still clad in dirty hiking boots. Mia decided that retrieving her gear was more hassle than it was worth, so without disturbing her squatters, she happily donated her kit to the solstice cause.

  Tom took a set of keys from the pockets of his jeans. Jesus had requested Tom retrieve his van and to keep all his belongings and the research inside for posterity. Tom had laughed at the time and while Jesus looked confused by his amusement, Mia had struck Tom’s shin with her foot. “We’ll get your van, Jesus,” she’d assured him. “Maybe someday you’ll need it.”

  She recalled the look in his eyes when he'd responded. "No. I am completely certain I will never need it again," he said before they left him there in the Watcher's world.

  Tom was looking around at the crowds as they stood next to the van. “How are we going to get it out of here?”

  “Just toot your horn and edge through. Believe me! No one here is going to argue with the Scooby-Doo van.”

  Mia watched him get in and start up the engine. It failed to start so he tried it again. Finally, he had it ticking over. Tom stuck his head out of the window. “There’s not much gas,” he said. “And I hope you know I haven’t got a licence.”

  “Does it really matter, Tom?”

  “I guess not. Not if it’s the end of the world and all.”

  Mia rolled her eyes and headed back through the crowds towards her parked car. She waited for Tom to catch up and when he pulled up alongside her, he stretched his hand through the window of the van to give her something. It was the picture of Shanna; Jesus’ beloved wife. She wished she was able to give it to him.

  On the way back, Tom had a near miss with a red Sierra speeding along at eighty miles per hour. It was the same car Jay had hired at the airport and he could have sworn he saw him in the driving seat. Tom decided to let it go. That couldn’t be Jay, not with another woman sitting in the front.

  Tom parked the van on the driveway at the front of the house. Mia had left a note for her parents telling them not to worry and that she was looking after the van for a friend. She felt good about preserving Jesus' home, even though he probably wouldn't need it anymore.

  Tom and Mia, Keri and Sarah left the house at nine o’clock and after sleeping for a couple of hours in a lay-by somewhere, they carried on their journey at midnight, down an unlit road leading towards the ghost town of Imber.

  Mia drove while Tom navigated, with Keri and Sarah huddled together on the back seat. Keri broke the silence as they coasted along, stroking Sarah’s hair away from her face. The little girl still hadn’t spoken. “I have agreed with the Prime Minister that we would hand Sarah over when we meet up. They will inform her parents in the morning and arrange a reunion.”

  Mia strained her neck to look into the rear view mirror to see Sarah in the back looking small and vulnerable wrapped in Keri’s arms. “How about that, Sarah? Soon you’ll be with your mum and dad again.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Imber loomed ahead. Mia scouted the deserted landscape as the car’s headlights shone on their ghostly facades of the ruined buildings.

  “There are some cars in front,” Tom whispered. He was pointing to two black SUV’s parked one in front of the other.

  The vehicle in front had its lights switched on, shining across the deserted road towards the old disused pub. Four burly men dressed in black were getting out of the rear car, walking towards the one in front.

  Mia pulled up behind them and turned off the ignition. “What’s happening?” She strained her neck to see beyond the cars.

  “It looks like we’re the last to arrive.”

  Suddenly, Keri pushed open the back door and ran down the side of the road towards the people alighting from the car in front.

  “Harry,” Keri screamed. “Harry.”

  Chapter 51

  Sometime around eight O’clock that night, Jay Pullman drove out of the village of Avebury in his leased red Sierra. Just as he was silently wishing he had never met Maggie, the car almost collided with a van that looked like it had come straight out of a Scooby-Doo cartoon.

  “Will you watch where you’re going?” Maggie yelled from the passenger seat.

  “Idiot,” Jay yelled at the retreating vehicle.

  “You’re the idiot, American boy. These are English roads remember.”

  “Yeah well I don’t care which side you guys drive, as long as you stay on that side. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Hmmm. I’ve been meaning to ask you all day, what side of the bed did you get out of?”

  “That’s just it Maggie, sweetheart.” The affectionate term rolled off his tongue like tires burning the sidewalk. “I haven’t been to bed. In fact, I haven’t seen my bed for over two days, ever since I met you. I’m dog tired now, I can tell you. In fact, I’ve had enough and I’m going home...to my bed.”

  “It’s not your bed. It’s the hotels.”

  Jay sucked in his breath. Maggie could rattle him like he'd never been rattled before. Now he needed the time-out.

  “Besides,” she went on. “You can’t go back to Glastonbury. It’s the solstice at 4.48am. There’s no point in going back and then coming here again to watch the sunrise.”

  “Who says I’m coming back?” He was snarling now. He couldn’t let go of the curl of his lip. Maggie put it there.

  "You have to. Otherwise, all of this would have been a waste of time."

  “It has been a waste of time. I should have known better. I’m a sucker for getting talked into things by females. I always have been. Why did I even come here?” he spat.

  Maggie had talked him into spending hours at Aveb
ury trying to decipher some of her theories. They had walked up the avenue of sarsen stones to the two incomplete stone circles within the rounded area that was the village. It was surrounded by a deep grassy ditch, no more than twenty feet deep in places, but when it was first built -Maggie told him-it had reached a depth of around thirty-three feet. It was the inner part Maggie was interested in. “Hey, come and look at this,” she’d called when they strolled through the ancient stones. She was pointing to a stone with a piece that looked like a woman’s… “It’s called the vulva stone,” she said.

  Jay reddened. He hated talking about women’s bits.

  “Any recognition here?” Maggie asked like she was some sort of goddamn teacher.

  “Yes, I get it. It’s the Mandorla.”

  “Good boy. Now you’re learning.” She pointed to a modern concrete marker. “There should have been an obelisk there in the centre of the southern stone circle. It was removed but it was recorded by Sir John Lubbock, the first Lord Avebury, as resembling a male’s member. That’s probably why it was taken away.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “Broken up, probably. Some of these stones were used to build the houses you see around here.” Maggie shook her head. “Criminal!”

  “So what’s on your mind?” Jay just wanted to go back to his hotel and get a nice cool shower.”

  “I think there’s something here…No, I know there’s something here. I can feel it. This is the entrance to the otherworld. This is where we can find Fran. I just know it.”

  “You said that about Swallowhead Springs.” He pulled his cell from his pocket to check his messages. Still nothing from Fran or Tom. Where the hell were they? “Come on, Maggie, time to go.”

  Now as they tore down the dual carriageway towards Glastonbury, Maggie was adamant they would return in a few hours to witness the summer solstice and to finally discover the entrance to a world that Jay was sure didn’t exist.