Watched (The Watched Series)

by Cindy M. Hogan

  Then I smelled it. The sweet, sticky smell of blood. It seemed to fill my lungs and make it impossible for me to breathe. I gasped, looking around, I was surrounded by dead bodies, one of which was staring right back at me, Sam. I pushed past Rick, then Summer, and finally bored past Jeremy into the cold night air. I fell to my knees, only to scream out in pain, trying to get air into my lungs. No air came, I threw up violently. Jeremy kneeled beside me and whispered, “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

  Someone gently held my hair back until I fell to my side, unable to puke anymore. I could hear someone else wretch, too. I shook all over.

  “Can we get some blankets over here, please.” Jeremy yelled. “I think she’s in shock.”

  Bundling up in the blankets felt heavenly.

  Soon, I was tucked away in a warm ambulance on a nice, comfy gurney. Rick held my hand and lay on the bench next to me. I couldn’t find words to tell him what I wanted to say.

  I wanted to apologize for my behavior with Alex, for the gala—for everything, but it didn’t seem to be the right time. Maybe I just wanted to hear what he intended to say on the roof before Jeremy interrupted him, before I bore my soul again.

  After a short while, I thought I could actually sleep. Marybeth was safe, we were safe, and the terrorists were gone. I dreamt about walking hand in hand with Rick toward a black sunset when the slide door of the ambulance slid open and Jeremy pushed past Rick to me saying, “We’ve got to go!” He grabbed my hand away from Rick’s and pulled me out from under the covers into the night air. I stumbled, feeling the pain and stiffness in my knees.

  “I know your knees are killing you, but you’ve got to push through it if you want to live.”

  Shock ran through me as he tugged me forward, dulling the pain. I looked back, the sounds of running and shouting filling my ears. Thanks to the lights from the safehouse, I could make out dark, shadowy figures running about in chaos until the sounds of shooting overtook them.

  I saw Rick being led off into the woods in a different direction than we were headed. Then the trees fell in behind us, blocking my view. I kept my ears open for the sounds of pursuit. My pulse pounded in my head. Branches whipped at my face. I tried to hold my hand up for protection, but found I needed it to keep my balance being pulled by Jeremy.

  “Faster, Christy, faster.”

  Flames licked my throat for want of water and air. Then I heard them; footsteps, lots of them, closing in on us. Jeremy must have heard them too, because he propelled me in front of him, whipping his arm to the side to pull me ahead. I ran faster, hearing only the hard footsteps pursuing me and my own ragged breath. Shots rang through the air, making my body scream to keep running. Faster and faster still.

  I could feel Jeremy only inches behind me. When suddenly, his body pushed into mine. He fell hard into me with a gasp and the small amount of breath left in me flew out as we slammed into the ground, leaving me to suffocate beneath him, his body heavy and limp. I struggled to free myself; to get the air I desperately needed.

  But, I found I had no strength. I couldn’t budge him. I tried to shift my head to the side to find an opening to get some air. I could feel the raw cuts in my face burn as they scraped the forest floor until a coolness hit my lips. I pulled hard on the fresh air. My lungs ached as they filled, which interestingly enough, made it harder to get the air I needed. Someone pushed on Jeremy, and I instinctively froze.

  Should I play dead or fight? I needed to wake Jeremy. I pinched him, trying to rouse him. I felt a wetness on my fingers and wiped it away. A sickening feeling overtook me. Duh! Jeremy didn’t move because he’d been shot. I wanted to cry, my stomach lurching into my throat. Into my heart came a pounding focus. I needed to live. Jeremy’s words boiled over in my mind.

  “You are the key to saving the country.”

  As Jeremy’s body began to rise, I struggled to make myself stay hidden under him. I got a glimpse of the man’s shoes and it somehow gave me more strength to push further under Jeremy.

  After hearing several loud shots, the man turning Jeremy fell sideways with a thud. Jeremy’s body slumped back onto mine. Only seconds passed before I felt his body being lifted again. I shifted, trying to stay hidden, but it proved impossible. His body flipped quickly, revealing the only face I hoped to see—Nathan’s. He brought his hand up to his mouth and rubbed it tightly down his face and neck, revealing a panicked expression that slowly dissolved into a look of relief and sadness.

  I gasped, pulling in all the air I could, watching Nathan’s attention turn to Jeremy. Everything started moving in slow motion.

  I could hear Nathan, but it was like I was in a fog.

  “Quick, get help. We need a paramedic,” he yelled.

  Nathan touched his neck. “Come on, stay with us, Jeremy. Stay with us.”

  My eyes fixed on Jeremy, my insides thrashed in agony. He ripped Jeremy’s coat open, sending buttons flying and exposed his vest, tugging at the Velcro straps on its sides to free it from him. He started breathing for Jeremy and other agents swarmed around.

  This wasn’t happening. Live, Jeremy. Live. I prayed a more honest prayer than I had ever remembered praying. Please, let him live. Take my life, not his.

  One of the other agents dropped to his knees to give compressions between Nathan’s breathing. Two other agents appeared and grabbed at my arms. I yanked myself away.

  “No, no,” I cried. “I have to stay. Please, let me stay.”

  “You don’t need to see this, dear,” a woman said.

  The voice was oddly familiar, and I looked up to see the large woman from the pizzeria looking down at me.

  “She’s bleeding. Get her to the ambulance.”

  “No, no,” I said, shaking my head. The jacket she now wore didn’t say DEA, it said FBI.

  “That agent in the Pizzeria—”

  “He’s just fine, dear. He’s just fine. Just like this agent will be.”

  “His name is Jeremy,” I yelled, as they tried to pull me away. “His name is Jeremy and he has to live, he just has to. He saved me. Save him, please, save him.”

  I planted my feet hard, but was no match for the two agents pulling me away. They dragged me all the way back to the ambulance, and I screamed for Jeremy the whole way.

  Behind the closed doors of the ambulance, I pressed my eyes shut and sobbed. I sobbed for all the people who would be notified today that their mom or dad would not be coming home. I cried for Rick, and Summer, who would have this memory of death forever. I cried for myself, wondering why I had to be a part of this and cursing my wish for change and adventure. I cried in relief that I was still alive. And I also cried for feeling relieved. And finally, I cried for Jeremy. As I did, I felt my heart break until a torrent of anger unleashed inside me, and I screamed until no more sound would come. My despair consumed me until a man in a paramedic’s uniform climbed into the ambulance with me. My eyes burned as I looked at him. He lifted my shirt and looked at my side, wiping it with a wet pad that stung me.

  “Oww!” I said.

  “Sorry about that,” the paramedic said. “You’ll be okay. It’s only a scratch.”

  “Jeremy,” I said. “Jeremy.”

  “He’ll be okay.”

  “No. He won’t and it’s my fault. I have to go to him.”

  I struggled to sit up, but they had already strapped me in. I pulled at the straps that held me there. The gurney moved and I felt a prick in my arm, a sedative. My worries disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Feeling someone’s warm touch on my hand woke me up. White surrounded me. I couldn’t seem to focus. I was in a bed in what looked like a hospital room or a prison, and I wanted to sit up, but couldn’t find the strength. My throat too dry to scream, allowed only a raspy whisper to escape.

  “Christy. Christy. It’s okay to wake up,” a voice said.

  Where was I? Help me! Someone help me. I remembered being in a forest running. Run. Run. Scary memories filled my mind.r />
  “Christy, it’s me, Rick. You’re safe.”

  Rick? My heart slowed its thundering pace, and I could finally make out splashes of color around the room. I took long, deep breaths.

  “Jeremy?” I rasped, looking straight at Rick.

  “No, it’s Rick. You’re safe.” He handed me some water, and I gulped it down.

  “Where’s Jeremy?” I said, looking around the room for him but finding Summer sitting on a chair in the corner instead. A part of me felt relieved. Summer was okay. Rick was okay. But was Jeremy okay? “Is he all right?”

  “Jeremy’s here, in the hospital,” Rick answered.

  “He’s alive?” I gasped.

  “Yes, he’s alive.” When he said this, he looked at Summer and her eyes rolled, telling me there was more to the story, and it wasn’t good.

  “I have to see him,” I said, trying to sit up again, only to be overcome with dizziness, and having to lie back down. I was scared. It must be bad if they wouldn’t tell me.

  I heard a door open and a tall, thin woman with hair pulled back into a low ponytail, walked straight toward me. Her face was soft and kind, not a wrinkle anywhere. Her wide eyes never looked away from me. Rick moved aside to let her get close to me.

  “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I got a bit concerned when you didn’t wake up right after taking you off the sedative this morning. But, better late than never.” She looked in my eyes and then gently moved her fingers over my face.

  “Who are you?” I asked. My face felt stiff.

  “Sorry, Christy. I’m doctor Eisen. I’ve been taking care of you since you got here.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you had a pretty nasty fall. You had some deep cuts on your face and arms. Luckily, we were able to get a plastic surgeon here quickly enough to patch you up so that you’ll have minimal scarring.”

  “Scarring?” My mind raced. I remembered the trees slapping my face and then my face scraping along the forest floor as I tried to get air. I gulped and touched my face. It felt rough and bandaged.

  “I have this antibiotic ointment that you’ll need to use on all your cuts and scrapes until they heal. To help them heal, I also got you some cream to go on after the antibiotic ointment. Use it twice a day. If you do this, you will likely have no scarring.” She handed me the two tubes of medicine and smiled. “Do you have any questions?”

  I said, “No,” but wanted to ask a million.

  “I’m going to do a few tests to make sure you are able to travel.”

  She poked and prodded and asked me questions as well as had me do certain movements with my body.

  “Ouch!” I said, as she touched a particularly tender spot on my side.

  “Make sure you get ointment on that graze, Christy. It could get infected.”

  “Graze?” I tried to twist and look at what she was talking about.

  “Don’t you remember how you got these injuries?” Dr. Eisen asked.

  “I remember getting whipped by tree branches and falling hard onto the ground, but I don’t remember any grazing.”

  “A bullet grazed your side. You are one lucky girl. You also have three very large, nasty bruises on your body, but you are so young, you will heal nicely.”

  “Okay.”

  “That doesn’t mean that you won’t have to go see your doctor when you get home. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Everything I just went over, as well as my private number, is here in your discharge papers. If your doctor at home has questions for me, he must contact me directly. I am the only one who has worked on you, besides the plastic surgeon, and no one knows you are here, except me. The plastic surgeon’s private line is also listed here.” She pointed to a spot on some papers she was holding.

  “Now, a shower will make you feel better. Be careful with your face. Don’t’ get it wet for another few days. We would have liked to have kept you here for those few days, but the FBI is insisting that you get home today. I suppose it will be nice to be surrounded by your family while you heal. Your injuries are hardly life-threatening, but still.”

  “How long have I been here, anyway?” I asked

  “Two days.”

  “Two days?”

  “Well, we chose to sedate you, to up the chances that your face would heal correctly.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Would I be a monster?

  “I’ll be calling you tomorrow to make sure you go see your doctor.”

  “Okay.” Did my parents know what had happened?

  “Great. Now you go right ahead and shower. Get yourself ready, but take your time. Don’t let the FBI rush you too much—I wish you all the best. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “’Kay.” Something about her made me feel comfortable and that comfort left when she walked out the door.

  “Tell me about Jeremy.” I shot at Rick. A horrible feeling gnawed at me.

  “We’ll go see him. But first, you need to shower and get dressed,” he said.

  “No…Take me to him now…Please.”

  Summer chuckled and said, “Yeah. I’m sure he wants to see your blindingly white butt peek through that hospital gown. Let’s go. I’m always up for a good laugh.”

  Unfortunately, she was right. The insanely thin, short and breezy hospital gown I had on revealed much too much. I gasped, my face burning, wondering what Rick might have seen already. The warm fuzzies I’d been feeling knowing Summer was alive began to fade quickly.

  Glaring at Summer, I swung my legs around to get off the bed. Every part of my body felt bruised and every move hurt. I stifled a moan.

  “I know,” Rick said. “You must be totally stiff and sore. There are some clothes for you in the bathroom. Take your time.” He turned away from me as my feet hit the ground.

  I wasn’t going to take my time. I was going to be as fast as I could so that I could get to Jeremy. Once inside, I took my clothes off gingerly and noticed the three dark purple, black, gray and yellow bruises the doctor had told me about. The one on my right hip was the deepest shade of black, my right collar bone was not far behind and my left shoulder was a bit lighter gray. I looked in the mirror above the sink and was shocked. My face had a bunch of white strips of tape on it, some exposed long scratches and my left cheek was scraped, red and swollen. I pulled back in surprise, hitting my body into the door, causing a rush of pain from all the bruises.

  “You okay in there?” Rick asked.

  “Fine,” I said, looking at my bruised and battered body one more time. I covered my mouth, remembering Jeremy’s body falling onto mine, landing on big roots sticking out of the ground and watching Nathan perform CPR.

  I had to see Jeremy.

  In the shower, each stream of water stung. I clenched my teeth and worked as fast as I could manage to clean myself. Stepping out of the shower sent stabs of pain in my knees. It did feel good to be clean, though.

  I examined my face again after drying off. It looked like I was an actor, playing a part in a horror movie. The only thing I didn’t have was black eyes. I wondered how well I would heal. Would I be scarred? Maybe I deserved some scars for causing so many people so much pain.

  I didn’t have any makeup to hide the mass of scrapes, cuts and stitches and didn’t think it would do any good, anyway. I used the antibiotic ointment and then the anti-scarring lotion liberally and kept my hair down, in an effort to hide my face. Mercifully, the clothes they gave me were sweats—fashionable sweats, but sweats nonetheless. Marybeth would die, but I had no choice. I wished she was here.

  I took a deep breath before opening the door, giving me courage to face the others. Now I knew what they’d seen when they were looking at me, and it scared me to death.

  They sat, watching TV. Rick stood abruptly and said, “How do you feel?”

  “Much better, thanks.” I looked at the floor, trying to hide my face.

  “Good,” he said. “Let’s go.” He walked to me and took my hand. I was
sure it was hard for him to look at me—heck, it was hard for me to look at me. But, to his credit, he never flinched when he did.

  “Where to?” I asked.

  “We’re going to see Jeremy,” Rick said, grabbing my little hospital bag and opening the door. Two FBI agents stepped in front of the door.

  “We’re ready,” Rick said to them.

  One agent started walking down the hall, and we followed. The other fell in behind us.

  “So, what happened, Rick?” I asked in a whisper.

  “We don’t have to talk about it, Christy. Really.”

  “I want to know, I mean, if you can tell me.”

  “Well, remember the guys Jeremy saw at the end of that tunnel he led us down? You know the one under the pool table in the game room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “After the house had been cleared by the FBI and we were in the ambulance, those people who were outside the tunnel ambushed us.”

  “No way!”

  “There were about twenty of them and they went after us.”

  “Don’t you mean they went after Christy?” Summer interrupted. “No one came after any of us—only her.”

  “Thanks a lot Summer,” Rick said, seeing my eyes fill with tears.

  “Well, it’s true, and I’m just saying…” Summer continued.

  “Well, stop saying it,” Rick hissed. “She’s been through enough. This isn’t your fault, Christy. Don’t forget that.” He leaned over and whispered, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  I leaned into him, unable to speak. Had he forgiven me?

  “Yeah, we are all really glad you’re safe,” Summer hissed. “We can’t wait to go home. The FBI wouldn’t let us go home until you could. Thanks a lot! And we have to lie and say we were in a bus crash. We can’t even tell our families the truth.”

  A bus crash. A good explanation. An easy excuse.

  Outside Jeremy’s room stood two more guards, who hesitantly let us inside. The agents who were outside our hospital room joined them. Jeremy, lying on his bed, looked at me, smiling. I ran to him and hugged him hard, crying.