Watchers of the Night

by Matthew Keith

Chapter 22

  Opening his eyes to the morning, Paul found himself back in his safe room. The first thing he noticed as he propped himself up on his elbows was that the door was open. The door was blocking his view to the outside, so he couldn’t see if anyone was standing guard, but even if they were it was against protocol. One Sentinel was supposed to stay in the room at all times if there was a Walker present.

  Rolling into a sitting position, he realized the bed wasn’t covered in crackling plastic. That was when it hit him that he was in his own safe room, not Hodge’s. Confused, he got up and padded down the hallway to the lounge area. He found Steven sitting alone on one of the couches watching cartoons.

  “Rise and shine!” Steven greeted him. “How’d it go last night?”

  Confused and disoriented, Paul started to reply, but Hodge walked into the lounge area from his own safe room. He shuffled past with his head turned toward Paul, looking him in the eye the entire time. Paul wouldn’t have thought it possible, but there was even more hatred than he’d ever shown before. Hodge hit the button for the elevator and, without a word, got in, letting the door close behind him.

  “I take it you two didn’t bond much on your first run,” Steven ventured, popping a mini powdered donut into his mouth.

  Sighing, Paul flopped down on the couch next to Steven and sat staring into space for a few moments.

  “Hodge tried to make me fail last night,” he finally said. “I think he might have succeeded. You have white powder all over your mouth.”

  Wiping his mouth with his forearm and smearing most of the powder onto his cheek, Steven said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “How did we get back here?” Paul asked.

  “The helicopter came back and grabbed Hodge’s safe room like an hour after sunset. I thought you knew that was the plan. Sorry, guess we should have clarified that. What do you mean you failed? You couldn’t find the house? You couldn’t get in? What?”

  “I got in fine. Hodge made the guy freak out and leave so that no one was there to answer the phone when the call came.”

  “Son of a…” Steven said angrily, standing up. “That’s crap. Being a prick is one thing, but that’s going too far, man. We got to straighten this out right now.”

  “We have to do something. But I don’t know what yet. Sit down, let me think. I need to think.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Steven flopped down on the couch, glaring at Paul. When he didn’t get any response, he went back to his Scooby-Doo.

  A half an hour later all of the other Walkers had come out of their safe rooms and gone upstairs. Finally, Paul and Steven went up too. They knew everyone would be waiting to hear the results of the mission.

  Sure enough, as soon as they walked into the room it got quiet. The Walkers and their Sentinels were split into the usual two main tables, with Hodge and his gang at one and the rest at another.

  Dr. Abrams, Natasha, Lydia, Gladys, and Dittrich stood clustered together near a third table, so engrossed in conversation that initially they didn’t see Paul and Steven come in the room. From the way they huddled so close and the seriousness of their expressions, it was clear something was not right, which was probably why everyone in the room went quiet at the sight of Paul and Steven.

  “So what’s the play?” asked Steven in a near-whisper.

  Looking across the room at Lisa, Paul tried to get some idea of whether or not anything had been said regarding what Hodge had done last night. With wide, frightened eyes, she gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Did that mean she didn’t want him to say anything about what she’d told him? Did that mean she didn’t want him to say anything about what Hodge had done? Or did it mean that everyone already knew and he was in some sort of trouble?

  Looking at Hodge, Paul got a cold, blank expression in return. Nothing. Not even his usual sneer.

  “I’m still thinking,” he replied to Steven, and walked forward as Dr. Abrams waved the two of them over. Passing his usual table, Liz looked up at him and gave him a smile of encouragement, but all he could offer in return was a thin, tight-lipped attempt at a smile.

  “Good morning,” Paul said to the group surrounding Dr. Abrams, receiving only brief nods from Dittrich and Gladys.

  Looking across the room, Dittrich called over, “Hodge, could you and Rex please join us.”

  “Paul, Hodge,” Dr. Abrams began without preamble once Hodge and Rex had joined them, “it appears there is a fairly serious situation regarding last night’s mission.”

  Everyone in the room was now silent, trying to hear what had happened. Paul looked over at Hodge, but again got nothing—Hodge remained stone-faced—so Paul just nodded instead of saying anything.

  “At the time that you were supposed to obtain the Target,” Dr. Abrams began, addressing Paul, “Where were you?”

  Without hesitation, Paul replied, “I was in the master bedroom of the home that I’d been directed to—per my mission instructions.”

  Steepling his fingers in front of his lips, Dr. Abrams paused before asking, “And how did you gain entry to the home?”

  “Through the front door,” Paul replied. A few snickers came from nearby tables. Not wanting to appear as if he wasn’t taking the situation seriously, Paul clarified, “Using my ability.”

  Dittrich nodded. “And was anyone in the home?”

  There had been when they’d arrived, but he had specifically been asked about the time during which he was supposed to obtain the Target, which was later, so technically he wasn’t lying when he replied, “No, there wasn’t.” He felt Hodge’s eyes on him but didn’t turn to look. He felt awful not telling the entire truth, especially to Dr. Abrams, but he knew he had to be careful.

  Leaning forward intently, Dittrich asked, “Are you sure there was no one there?”

  Narrowing his eyes at Dittrich, as if confused at the reason for repeating the question, Paul said, “Yes, I am sure.”

  No one spoke for a few moments. Finally, Dr. Abrams, Dittrich, Lydia, and Gladys exchanged a look.

  “Paul,” Dr. Abrams began, “at 11:47 last night, you say that there was no one in the house and yet, at that time someone did pick up the telephone.”

  “I can explain that,” Paul supplied.

  “At 11:24 last night,” Dr. Abrams continued as if Paul hadn’t spoken, “the owner of the home, a Mr. Glynhall, struck a telephone pole two miles from his home while driving his Volvo at a speed in excess of one hundred miles per hour and was killed.”

  You could hear a pin drop in the room. Paul turned and looked directly at Hodge, the obvious question in his eyes. Hodge looked back, cleared-eyed and still without expression. Finally, Paul let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and looked back, addressing Dr. Abrams. “That… is awful. What… how did it happen?” Paul felt more than saw Steven go rigid and take a tiny step back.

  “The details are still out of our reach,” Dr. Abrams replied. “But it does put us on somewhat of an alert. It is too much of a coincidence that this man died just twenty minutes before the scheduled time of your first real-world assignment.”

  Standing taller, addressing the entire room in a louder voice, Dr. Abrams announced, “You’ve all just heard what happened last night. It may have been fate or just poor timing for Mr. Glynhall and for us, but we would be remiss if we did not do our due diligence and keep our eyes open.

  “Effective immediately and until further notice, we will remain at minimum lock-down status. All visits by friends and family are to be approved through Lydia or myself. All non-essential excursions, day or night, must also be pre-approved.

  “This may be nothing, people, but it is also possible that someone else has taken notice of Mr. Bennett’s unique skill-set and decided to try and take him for their own use.”

  There was a fair amount of grumbling around the room. In particular, Paul thought he caught James glaring at him, but when he tried to meet James’ eyes, Paul realized it was actu
ally Hodge that was getting the glare.

  “Paul,” Dr. Abrams said, snapping Paul’s attention back to him. “You said you could explain the phone being answered?”

  Paul took a moment to recall what he’d heard last night and recited, “Hello? Is there anyone there? Mr. Glynhall? Mr. Glynhall, if you’re there it is very important that you speak to me. Our arrangement is that you will answer a series of questions at this precise time of the evening. If you do not uphold your end of the bargain, we may be forced to find another arrangement. One that does not involve your services. Mr. Glynhall? I’m hanging up now, sir.”

  A beat of silence and then the entire room began chattering. Dr. Abrams looked at Paul with a smile. “It was you that picked up the phone.”

  “Slapped the receiver out of the cradle, actually,” Paul replied honestly.

  “So you’ve managed to obtain a Target, after all,” Dr. Abrams said with grim pride. “Well done, Paul.” To the room at large, which was still buzzing with conversation, he announced, “Paul’s training will continue without interruption. That is all for now.”

  Giving Paul one last nod, Dr. Abrams and the rest of the administrative group made their exit.

  Hodge turned to face Paul, the blank look he’d been wearing now replaced by a mask of fury. Confirming what Paul had suspected, Hodge whispered fiercely, “You think you just bought a buddy? Think again.” He turned and stalked back to his table.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Steven said. “Why didn’t you bust him out? Everyone is here. There couldn’t have been a better time. You’d think he’d be grateful. He killed that poor bastard.”

  “He’s not grateful, not even close. He wanted me to tell Dr. Abrams what he did. I don’t know what his angle was, but he had a plan last night. And he had a plan this morning if last night’s plan didn’t work out.”

  They both turned and watched Hodge pick his fork back up to finish eating. Steven said wonderingly, “That wily son of a gun.”

  Looking askance at his friend, Paul said, “Wily he may be. But we be wilier than he.”

  “Do we be?”

  “We do indeed.”