The guard threw down his weapon as if it had burnt him and along with the two other men, they all stepped into a straight line. They were moving as if they had no choice. Surrender was the only way open to them now. They looked dazed, their eyes staring straight ahead before they halted and stood in front of the Watchers.
Suddenly there was quiet. The drill had stopped. No more grinding, no more violation of the earth. Two Angels took flight and soared to the top of the mast. They perched like birds on the rig and as they took hold of the mast in their unforgiving grip, they rocked the metal structure as if they were frolicking on a child’s see-saw. The sight from the ground was a sight to behold and that was a massive understatement.
Suddenly as the Angels in front of her stood their ground, their wings outstretched, a creaking sound fractured the night, echoing across the land. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear Charlie barking, as she suddenly wished she hadn't left him, or at least tethered him.
As she trembled, Mia saw the tower tremble. The two Watchers remained unmoving, simply looking at the rig with their wings fluttering, telling of their anguish and pain. The structure toppled and as the Angels on the see-saw took flight, as if in slow motion the rig crashed to the ground, stirring the dust into a frenzy. As calm ensued, Mia saw vehicles enter the compound, their lights flashing as their frantic engines broke the silence of the night, their screeching tyres whipping up the dirt around the fallen rig.
When she turned around, the Watchers had gone.
At nine am, Mia awoke to the sound of birds singing and the sun streaming through the gap in her pink floral curtains. It was early, her parents were still asleep, but she needed to speak to Tom in New York. Like now! She put her feet over the side of the bed and brushed away a lock of hair. Charlie rose from his slumber and jumped onto her bed as he always did, rolling onto his back for her to stroke his stomach. She shook her head. What a night.
It was late afternoon In New York right now. She crossed the carpeted floor in bare feet and sat upon her revolving baby-blue computer chair. She stabbed at the switch on her Dell stack and waited a couple of seconds for the PC to fire up. Windows 12 was running updates. Goddamn it! Not now! She decided to let it run. Give her time to think about what Tom was going to say when she told him that not only had she seen the Watchers last night, but that she’d also witnessed first-hand an event that would surely change the perception of fracking. The Watchers didn’t want it, so now it was all the people needed to use as an objection to future drilling. How was Tom going to react when he found out she had seen them before him? Would he totally freak when she told him the rest?
She smiled as she swung around in her chair and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Her reflection in the mirror above the sink made her blink. She looked terrible, with dark patches under her eyes. She grabbed a neatly folded pink towel with Princess Mia embroidered on the front, a relic from her early childhood. She patted her cheeks and then threw the towel back over the rail where it fell to the floor. She left it there and tugged the cord to shut off the light as she went back to her desk in the corner.
The screen on the PC was still on timer. She did a quick calculation. “Come on, come on.” Her eyes became fixed on the blue rotating circle as she pondered the events of the night before.
When she thought they had gone, she’d turned about and ran back from where she’d entered the compound and where she could hear Charlie whining and barking. Before she’d reached the fence she’d been forced to stop abruptly as the Watchers stood in front of her blocking her way. For a moment she thought her heart was going to explode through her chest until the Angel that seemed to be leading them, spoke to her in a soothing gentle voice.
He was beautifully handsome. His dark green eyes seemed alight with passion, looking at her as if he was her lover. She felt a stirring inside her she hadn’t expected. She couldn’t help herself, he was practically naked apart from the silken leather-looking fabric covering his lower body like a second skin. His chest was rounded and muscled, covered in scars, like war wounds, and his bulging shoulders and arms revealed beautiful black scrolled tattoos of lettering and symbols. His face was enchanting, sculptured and bronzed like a roman statue carved by Michelangelo himself. Above his eyes and fine nose, his eyebrows were almost joined in the middle. His mouth was mesmerizing, inviting her to kiss it. ‘Do you want to know more…to see more?’ he asked.
Mia pondered his exact meaning. To see more of him…? “Yes…Yes I would like to.”
He nodded. “Go to the place you call Stonehenge. Tomorrow at midnight. We will be waiting.”
Then they left as quickly as they came.
The computer jolted Mia back to the place she was now, in her bedroom, at home. She looked at the screen. An IMS came straight through. ‘Mia,’ Tom had typed.
She pulled herself up to the screen with a grunt of satisfaction. She began to type. ‘About time. Where’ve you been?’
‘You’ll never believe it,’ Stoney wrote. ‘I saw them…I saw the Watchers.’
She paused. That was supposed to be her line. Was it true? Had they both seen the Watchers on different sides of the planet, eight hours apart? It was surely a crazy coincidence unless the Angels knew exactly what they were doing? She typed her response. ‘Me too.’ She left it at that and tried to imagine the look on his face.
‘No way!?’
Mia was nodding. ‘Seriously.’
‘Tell me everything.’
‘No, can't now. It'll take too long. Text me offline and I'll text you back. If we swap stories, we can save it for posterity, like a diary of sightings'. She liked the idea.
His words formed in the IMS box. ‘Cool’.
She puckered her lips. Now she was going to blow him away. ‘Not just that…I’ve got another rendezvous lined-up…’
‘?’
‘You heard me, Yankee boy. I got me a date with my very own Angel and it’s gonna happen tonight. Beat that!’
‘Respect! Xoxo’
Chapter 7
New York
Jay switched channels. He was perched on the edge of the couch, flicking the remote, until he picked up the only news channel that existed. Tom Stone was slouching on the cushion at the other end of the couch texting his girlfriend on his I-phone. Jay sat down and leaned back against a threadbare blue velvet cushion, one he’d picked up from a flea market a few years back. He placed his feet onto the nineties-style coffee table as he gave the kid one more disapproving glance before he set his mind to Fran. So she’s gone. It was just a matter of time before she left him. She’d been talking about it for long enough.
He'd met Fran Shriver at a bowling alley six years ago before the place got closed down. He'd been there with a client to discuss business while they played a few lanes. Jay recalled holding the ball below his chin, aiming at the pins, just as he caught sight of Fran out of the corner of his eye. To say his heart missed a beat was an understatement. The ball catapulted from his featherweight grip and trickled down the gutter until it dropped off the end, out of sight.
Fran had been doing a photo shoot for a magazine, modelling fashion on the lanes, draping her body over the skittle bars, dressed in a short skirt with a bowling ball between her long, smooth legs.
“Hey, Jay, buddy. Are we bowling today?” the client had shouted.
"Uh, sure." Jay picked up his ball. With his eyes on the girl posing on the next lane, he inserted his fingers into the holes. He stepped forward to roll, just as she bent away from him and straddled the gulley in five-inch heels. Jay pulled back his arm and fixed his aim on the pins in front of him. Then he drove that ball home to a strike.
When he straightened his back and watched her turn, their eyes had met. He fell for her there and then. Just like that! She said yes when he asked her out and they'd dated for a week before they slept together. When another week had passed, she moved in. They were so into each other he had stopped working for a while since all he was
interested in was seeing Fran.
Then one day she picked up an assignment in California and everything fell apart. He had been jealous as hell. He knew her job meant social events and rendezvous with all types of people, but for Jay, the thought of her seeing someone else just made him crazy. To counter his Neanderthal attitude, he hid his feelings and pretended he didn't care. It didn't work out so good. She moved out just after she put her latch-key into the garbage disposal and turned it on. It had never worked since…the garbage disposal.
Jay looked at Tom, at ease on the other side of the couch. He was still stabbing the touch screen. His phone was one of those old models from 2019. No one could afford the new ones anymore, only the wealthy and privileged got access to those. "What are you doing here?"
“Huh?” He didn’t even look up.
Jay poked his arm. “You. What are you doing here?”
Tom slipped his cell into his pocket. “Where better to formulate our plan?”
Jay tried to recall a conversation he must surely have forgotten. “What plan?”
“The plan for our next sighting. How we’re going to find them again.”
“Find whom?”
Tom had an incredulous expression on his face. “The Watchers. Who do you think I’m talking about?”
Jay pointed the remote at the TV and turned the volume down. “Listen, kid…”
“Wait…Shush.” Tom leaned towards the TV trying to listen to the news flash on the screen. “Turn the sound back up.”
“…so far the hostages have not been named and the Iranian terrorists have not yet confirmed their demands…This is Sue Menzie, Sky news at Pennsylvania Station, New York. Back to the studio for the latest breaking news…”
“That’s it. That’s where we’ll find them.” Tom stood up and slammed his soda can down on the table. “Well. What are you waiting for? Come on.
Tom Stone and Jay Pullman walked into Penn Station through the 8th Avenue front entrance. They arrived at the bottom of the escalator on the main concourse without being stopped, despite several notices of restricted access. The cops were everywhere, along with security people, paramedics, news crews and a smattering of military. On the far side, areas were cordoned off with yellow tape and emergency crash barriers. People were being held in groups, giving statements, pointing, asking questions, speculating. The overhead intercom was functioning as if there was nothing untoward happening. ‘Trains leaving from platform 13, 14 and 15…normal service will be resuming shortly.’
It was a rare day for Jay to be caught anywhere near a train station, the New York lines were renown for terrorist attacks and the crime was heavy stuff; the drugs dealing, knife attacks, shootings…they were everywhere, which is why most sensible people avoided them; like the damn plague. Penn Station in itself was a sad sight. It was dilapidated and dirty and while the electronic advertising boards still ran, it was like being in an oppressive cave with coloured lights.
Jay looked at the kid at his side. He was handling a press I.D card, checking out the areas he could gain access to, the ones off-limit to the general public. “Tell me two things,” Jay said, “What are we doing here and why have you got a stupid smug expression on your baby-smooth face?”
“Smug! Moi? I’ve got a plan, my friend.”
“We’re not friends. I keep trying to tell you that.”
A voice behind them made them stop. A cop. “ID, sir!”
Sir! The respectful term was part of the new clean-up-the-streets culture; to make sure the cops are polite before they blow your brains out.
With a ridiculously confident demeanour, Tom handed over his press card. The cop scrutinised it and gave it back. "And you, sir?" Jay pulled out his driving license from the inner pocket of his jacket. It showed a mug shot of him from three years back. Jay Pullman, Private Investigator.
The cop compared the likeness in the photo to the man standing in front of him. “Why would they send a PI down here?”
“City Hall requested me. I…I’m a hostage expert. They want me as a consultant during the crisis.” Any minute now he was going to get arrested for conspiring to defraud.
The officer nodded his approval. “Okay, go through.”
Jay couldn’t believe it. As he walked past the barriers with the kid at his side, he looked back with his mouth agape. “That cop should lose his badge. This is why we feel vulnerable!” They ducked under crime scene tape and entered the terminal, going virtually unnoticed by the people swarming around the place. “Why are we even here? I must be crazy listening to you.”
“Don’t you want to see them again?”
Jay grabbed Tom’s arm and pulled him to a stop. Now he could look at him face on. “Look, kid…Tom. I admit last night was kinda special. You don’t see things like that every day… but, kid, you’ve got to get over it. Do you hear me?” Jay wondered if he was even listening. “The Watchers can’t be found just like that. You think no one’s ever tried? If they don’t wanna be found, they aint gonna get found. End of!”
Tom wasn’t listening. He was looking around the terminal. “We’ll see! I have to try, man. I’ve been waiting a long time to catch the Watchers on film. We saw what happened last night and I didn’t get one shot. Not one goddamn shot!”
The passion in the kid’s voice made Jay soften for a moment. “‘Goddamn’ is it now?” Tom’s eyes were glassing over and he was smiling a secret smile. “What’s so amusing?”
The kid shook his head. “Just thinking about a friend of mine.”
“Well, if we’re going to get out of this alive, you gonna have to man up, kid.”
Tom was checking-out the waiting area on the concourse, staring at a newspaper stand, closed and covered with shutters. He grabbed the fabric of Jay’s thin cotton jacket and pulled him along towards the side of the booth. “Come on.”
Jay shrugged him off. “Don’t touch.”
“In a minute, when I say, head for that escalator.” He indicated a stationary staircase leading to platform 13 on the lower level. The mechanism had been turned off, allowing no one to travel up or down. Tom dug his hand into his pocket and pulled something out. He kept it in his closed hand while he scanned the station from left to right. “Go down as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Are you crazy? Have you seen the security around here? They’ll stop us before we get past the second step.”
“Not if they’re distracted they won’t.”
“And what’s going to make that happen?”
The kid opened his fingers to reveal a single micro-dynamite firecracker and a small box of matches cradled in the palm of his hand. The action reminded Jay of his early college days when one of his buddies smuggled a reefer into the dorm. As Jay watched, unable to stop whatever it was he was going to do, the kid crouched at the side of the booth and struck a match. He held it to the firecracker until it began to burn. As they both backed off, and just before they turned to run, they heard it go off with a bang, like a single gunshot.
As mayhem erupted in Pennsylvania Station below Madison Square Garden’s, Tom and Jay ran for the escalator as if their lives depended on it. Down to platform 13 they went, where armed Middle Eastern terrorists were holding American hostages. It doesn’t get any crazier than this, Jay Pullman thought.
Tom’s firecracker/fake gunshot distraction had worked perfectly despite Jay’s doubts. The crowds, already sensitive to the slightest noise, scattered like ants racing from the heel of a shoe. The cops rallied around and pulled out their guns. Some kneeled on the floor and aimed while they scoured the concourse. Some of the people from the press kept their cameras rolling and their mics in place, their eyes darting everywhere, looking for a scoop.
And then there were those who didn’t go for it, the ones who’d heard a gunshot before and hadn’t equated the two. They remained standing, watching the crowds disperse from the area around the booth where a burnt out firecracker lay discarded on the floor.
In the meantime,
in those split seconds, Tom and Jay had made their escape and as they reached the bottom of the escalator, they heard a yell from someone at the top. “Hey…hey you two…” Despite their obvious contempt of the law, Tom and Jay kept on running and they didn’t look back.
They went quickly to platform 13 where the hostages were being held. They dodged pillars, and benches as they moved nearer to the people sitting huddled together on the deck with the Iranians standing over them watching and waiting for trouble. When they were close enough, Tom pushed Jay into the recess of a doorway where they crouched down and remained hidden. “I must be crazy listening to you,” Jay spat with his voice levelled to a whisper. “Why did I let you drag me into this? You’re a mental case.”
Tom grinned, "Neat huh?!"
Jay shook his head. What was the point in trying to reason with the guy? It was Tom Stone’s world and everyone else just lived in it. “So what’s the plan now? Got your little water pistol ready?”
“Nope, we’re not going to need any weapons.” His arrogance left Jay reeling. “The Watchers will come and they’ll take them out.” He tapped his camera in the bag hanging across his back. “And that’s when this little baby will get the shot of a lifetime. And when I sell it to the highest bidder, it’s goodbye lower-east-side and hello Manhattan and an apartment overlooking the park.”
Jay rolled his eyes. "Got it all worked out, huh!" Tom didn't answer. He didn't have to. There was no doubt in his mind that he knew what he was doing, and even if he didn't, nothing was going to stop him from getting that picture. If the situation wasn't so crazy, Jay may have admired him for his positive outlook on life, but that notion only lasted a microsecond, since Jay had seen it all and then some. What Jay knew, that the kid didn't, was that life didn't give you what you expected. It just didn't work that way. And he should know. "So what now, oh crazy one?"
The Watchers Page 4