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Chapter 8: Always on Watch

Author: Leslie Fear

"Go back to the motel, Kate." He reaches around me and opens the driver's side door.

I know he's not going to elaborate because he's practically shoving me in the car, but I can't stop myself. "Wait, if you're my protector, why are you letting me drive alone? Hell, why are you letting me do anything alone?"

His lips curl up slowly, as if he's genuinely amused. "You are never alone."

I shoot up my arm so he can't shut the door. "What? Do you magically appear in my bedroom or something?"

I meet his gaze, watching the slight smile he had only seconds ago completely fade. "I am everywhere you are."

Gulp.

Our eyes stay glued for another second; he looks away first. I'm still trying to grasp what he just said when I hear a faint scream. Or maybe it was a high-pitched growl, I can't be sure. Whatever it was now has the Watchman's full attention. He pushes my shoulder all the way inside the car and slams the door, then disappears right in front of me.

Disappears.

Into thin air.

My hands shake as I try to start the engine. Light from the console catches my eye and when I look down I see it's my iPhone, in the same place I left it.  It's a text from Skylar, asking where I am.

Wait, Skylar and I already had this conversation.

Oh.

My.

God.

I tap the toggle and see that it's 2:16 in the morning. The exact same moment he originally sent the text. Or I should say, the only time. The Watchman told me that time would somehow be back to normal. Clearly, I dismissed it, or more likely, I didn't believe it. Until now.

Shifting into drive, I hit the gas a little harder than intended. Gravel tumbles underneath the tires, keeping me from moving for a second before the Volvo takes off. I manage to turn around, easing up on the gas and finally hitting pavement to pass the cemetery gates. It's still pitch black outside but I'm beyond positive it shouldn't be. I've been gone for hours.

This is insane. Nothing makes sense.

The Watchman.

My dead brother-at least I think it's him-back from the dead.

Things vanishing before my eyes and now this, time standing still. Or I should say, reversing.

How can any of this be real?

What's even more insane is I'm no closer to understanding any of it. And why is that? Why are they keeping me from the truth? Zack said he was targeted. Hell, even said that our parents were too. But why? By who? Last time I checked none of us has superpowers. The Watchman talked about me having my brother's bloodline. But isn't that kind of obvious?

In what seems like seconds instead of minutes, I'm turning into the Holiday Inn parking lot and sure enough, it looks exactly the way it did when I left.

The lighting, the cars, the night sky.

I pull into the same parking space as an intense, warm sensation floods my body. I turn off the engine and I catch something black out of the corner of my eye. I know exactly who it is.

The Watchman.

Incredibly, I actually felt him before I saw him and now I have no doubt he can feel it too.

This is crazy.

Tapping the key fob, I hear the car doors lock as I sprint up the stairs to my room. I know the Watchman's eyes are on me but I've never been able to feel him until now. The only place I've ever seen him is at the cemetery, except when the house was on fire. Is it because I'm becoming more aware of him, or did something change? I definitely feel different, even safer somehow, especially knowing someone else or maybe, some thing else is after me, which is a huge relief after everything that's happened. Or wait, a few things that now haven't. The Watchman even changed that too. Hours of my life have been wiped away and I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around all of it. Surreal doesn't even cover it because this seems way more like a dream. A crazy, scary, and yes, somewhat amazing dream.

I push the door open, closing it as quickly as I can before attaching the chain lock. Which is funny, because I know it'll work on everyone but him.

The Watchman disappeared right in front of me and a stupid little chain isn't going to stop him. I'm sure of that now. I'm sure of a lot of things I never thought were even possible. What he can do defies all comprehension and reasoning, and just thinking about it frightens me.

I need to refocus and somehow shut off my brain. I've been so consumed by the chaos, the Watchman, and the impossible. I'm pretty sure my mind is beginning to unravel. Yet, had I not witnessed the insanity of it all with my own eyes, I'd laugh at the person trying to convince me otherwise.

My mouth is dry and when I try to swallow I realize I'm thirsty as hell. It feels like days since I've eaten a proper meal and the more I think about it, the hungrier I get. Before I do anything I have to shower and wash away some of the madness. Then I'll check out the mini bar. Yes, eating and drinking sound fantastic right now.

I'm practically blinded by the brightness of the sterile motel bathroom and slam my foot against the small empty trash can with a curse.

Holy crap, where do they buy these ridiculously intense bulbs?

I keep my hand under the flow until the water gets warm. The tiny rivers soothe my mind as they stream down my skin. I need to keep it together and stop obsessing over everything.

For now anyway.

After a quick blow dry, I pull my hair into a messy bun and slip on the fluffy white robe I left hanging behind the bathroom door. I'm too lazy to rummage through the washed, yet slightly smoke-infested clothes the neighbors managed to salvage for a pair of pajamas, so this will have to do.

The mini-fridge turns out to be nothing but a stack of protein bars and assorted soft drinks. Not exactly what I had in mind for dinner, but definitely better than nothing. Aunt Kelly's meatloaf sounds pretty fantastic right now. Grabbing two bars and a Diet Coke, I take a seat in a chair next to the tiny table and pick up my phone. No new text messages except for the one from Skylar I haven't answered yet-the one asking if I'm okay. I don't want to send him a reply and get stuck texting for ten minutes like before.

Wait. I can change what happens. Today is a half-day at school because of Thanksgiving break. Skylar and I have already had that conversation. Well, he hasn't yet, and never will now. Shit, this is weird, but could be pretty helpful in the future.

I devour the first protein bar in only three bites. The more I chew, the hungrier I get and now I understand why they call tiny foods an appetizer. This little bar would definitely be classified as one.

My phone starts to chirp and I look down, realizing it's at 10% power so I reach over and plug in the charger. After the second protein bar, I feel less confused and shaky. Probably not a bad thing since I'll most likely be processing what I should do next. Should I go back to the cemetery and find Zack? He knows I want answers. Thoughts of the Watchman instantly pop back in my head. Not my parents, or even Aunt Kelly and Uncle John. Is it because I can feel him close by? Could we have formed some kind of bond, or is it in my head? I'm clearly attracted to him and now even he knows that.

God, why did I tell him? Could I humiliate myself a little more?

His reaction was strange, like he couldn't, or maybe didn't, want to believe me. I know he wasn't expecting it, that's for sure. I mean, he can't be much older than me-maybe three to five years at the very max. And he admitted something else that was weird. He said, "It's forbidden." What's forbidden? Is dating frowned upon or something? I know he's not exactly like the guys I talk to at school. Hell, he's nothing like anyone I've ever met, but why did he give me that repulsed look? Is he so disgusted by me? The first guy I've liked in what feels like forever and he can't stand the sight of me.

After another few minutes of serious contemplation and self-doubt, I finally convince myself to stop obsessing about the Watchman because I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm beyond exhausted and need go to get some sleep. Besides, the mental escape is something I'm looking forward to. If I can actually fall asleep and stay asleep, maybe I'll just stay in bed for a couple of days.

Silencing my phone, I leave it face down on the table to charge. I pull back the covers, turning off the lamp before slipping in. I'm still wearing the robe because it's cold as hell in here, but that's how I like it. I hate being hot; I haven't even turned the on heater in the room. Lately I sleep way better when I can feel the weight of blankets over me. Tonight is no exception. Everything will look better tomorrow.

It has to.

***

I awaken to sunlight streaming in from the window and glance around the room, not entirely sure where I am. Oh yeah, a motel room with an adjoining door to Aunt Kelly and Uncle John's room. The same motel we're staying at because our house was completely destroyed by a fire. I have no doubt it's going take a while to figure out what our next move will be. It's like life has sucker punched each of us in the gut. Uncle John almost lost his life. Not that I would have been overly devastated, since he's an asshole, but I don't want him to die. I'm also not sure how much more Aunt Kelly can take. She's always been strong, especially when Zack and I needed her after Mom and Dad died. But now, when I look at her, I see a frail, thirty-five-year-old woman who, in the past ten years, buried her sister, brother-in-law, nephew, and son. She seriously can't take much more so I'll have to keep everything a secret. The Watchman, Zack, the crazy, unbelievable things I can't explain-all of it. I refuse to cause her any more stress. I care about her too much.

It's already 8:30. Crap, I didn't mean to sleep this late.

Pushing back the covers so quickly to get to the table, I grab my phone, nearly tripping when I reach for it. Four missed calls and seven new text messages.

Shit.

Three from Skylar and four from Aunt Kelly.

Aunt Kelly: Morning. I'm grabbing breakfast for John and me. U hungry?

My stomach begins to rumble the second my thumbs start typing back, "Starving."

Almost immediately the three dots appear-she's texting.

Aunt Kelly: I'm at Mickey D's. Want pancakes?

Me: Yes. And hash browns. TY.

Aunt Kelly: K. Be back in ten.

I smile because it feels good to have some semblance of my normal, boring life back. Even for a little while. No more insanity. No more uncertainty. Hell, could it have all just been a bad dream? Or a very vivid nightmare? I'd love to think so, but when I look down at Skylar's messages I know none of it was a dream. Needles poke at my stomach and suddenly I'm no longer hungry.

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