The Watchmen – Chapter 4
Missed chapter three? You can check it out here!
I stand outside for a moment and watch as the cars pass by. Everything moves so much slower here than it does in Dallas. No one seems to be in a rush, or cutting each other off. It really is beautiful and even from here I can make out the mountains in the distance. I will be going back to my place tomorrow. I still have to figure out what I will say to my parents─ what I can possibly say to anyone. Devon’s smile flashes in my mind. I find myself wondering if he will smile at me like that again after my live stream. I think given time, I would have liked to get to know him better. I’m not sure in what way, but I know that I enjoy his company. I certainly don’t want him to die the way everyone did in my visions. No one deserves that. I trudge into my room, set my keycard on the nightstand, and then drop my bag on the floor. Whether I want to or not, I am going to the funeral tomorrow. Not just to show my support to the company, but to talk with a Devon. Maybe Zedd spoke to someone before he passed away or he had confided in someone from our department. I’m not sure of the dynamic between him and his team, but I know that he and Devon seemed comfortable talking to one another. I can worry about that tomorrow.
I pick up my phone and check my messages. Mom has sent me a link to a pie recipe she found and asks if I would like her to make it this year. Leave it to mom to ask something like that a solid three weeks before Thanksgiving. She has always been that way, about as anxious as they come to getting everything in order. Last year she had managed to cook a full traditional Thanksgiving meal and a full vegan one for her sister. Aunt Marie is obsessed over a few things─ her fine wrinkles, the little bit of weight around her tummy, and the horrible meat industry and how they all lobby together to get the public to buy into meat and animal products. I will get a link to a documentary at least a few times a year. Everyone has an agenda she would say. Though, admittedly she probably isn’t wrong about the lobbying. I’m sure it happens in just about every industry. I admire her for it none-the-less, I certainly can’t do it. I tried being a vegetarian for a while and promptly lost my shit. Even my mom had broken her no cursing rule and told me to stop being such a bitch. I still laugh at that from time to time. My mom, miss prim and proper cursing me out and shoving bacon in my face. I guess we all have our limits and I apparently am a real asshole when I don’t eat meat. I open up my work emails and skim through. There are a few messages from corporate about Zedd and a personal email from Devon. It is titled ‘I’m sorry for all of this.’ I immediately open it.
Hey Kate,
I just wanted to say again that I am so sorry your first week happened this way. Zedd was a good friend of mine and to say that I am in total shock is a bit of an understatement. I hope that this hasn’t changed your mind about working for us in any way. I hope to have you on our team for quite some time. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, we’re all going to work half a day and then attend the service. You are more than welcome to join us or head home. You won’t be judged either way.
Take care,
Devon
I reread it and then hit reply.
Devon,
I want you to know that I plan on staying with the company for a long time. In no way is this anyone’s fault and I would never hold you or the company accountable for someone else’s actions. I’m sure that Zedd had a reason for all of this even if we couldn’t understand them. I lost a good friend of mine this way in high school. Just focus on the good times and the time you shared together. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.
Yours,
Kate
I am surprised to find a bit of wetness gathering in my eyes. This stirs memories of my friend James. It would have been eight years ago now. In some ways, he reminds me of Zedd─ quick witted, shy, but very vocal when he was passionate about something. Why is it that some of the best people in the world take their own life? This thought seems to depress me more over the years. I remember taking several psychology courses talking about how some of the most brilliant minds struggled daily with depression. I can believe it. Seeing the world as it really is has to have its downfalls.
I sigh heavily on the bed and then shove my feet into the shoes on the floor. I just want to be done with all of this. It’s killing me knowing that there is nothing that I can do. I’m done with it all, especially feelings. I have a few hours before I head back to Dallas. We are expected to be in tomorrow morning, so I will have to get back to my place in time to shower and dress. I am not sure if I have something appropriate to wear to a funeral. Most of my clothes are very casual and the few dresses I own are sun dresses. I can’t exactly show up in a flowery sundress to a co-worker’s funeral─ jeans just seem disrespectful. After a little bit of searching, I find an online delivery service that will pick up something from a nearby store and deliver it tonight. I quickly browse through some dresses and pantsuits before deciding on a loose pair of slacks and a blouse. Thankfully I have a pair of decent black flats at home just for this sort of occasion. Now I know why my parents had told me to always have a pair of black dress shoes.
I sigh, browsing through the T.V. It has been a long time since I’ve been to a funeral. The last one had been my Nana Genny’s. I remember it being a very cold day. It was the sort that makes you shiver no matter how many layers of clothing you had on. I was still in my teens, old enough to understand death, but still too immature to understand. It hadn’t really hit until grandpa Jay had started dating again. When he remarried, mom stopped talking with him. I’m not sure why she did, after all he was only human. I never hated him for it, he had been with nana for over forty years. It must have been hard to be with someone for so long and then suddenly they are gone. I don’t think I would want to be alone either. I still call him from time to time to check in and see how he is doing. Grandpa Jay had hoped someday mom would come around. I do too. A chill runs along my arms and up through my head. I wonder if maybe I am getting sick from all the stress. I am not sick often, but when I do it normally takes me out for a few days. I had the flu once as a child and I’ll never forget it. It is probably why I get my shot every year and wash my hands like it is some sort of religion. The kids always poked fun of me for it, but guess who never gets sick? Let them laugh, cleanliness always wins and I am the proof.
After wasting some time browsing my phone and trying again for the hundredth time to find these mysterious Watchmen, I decide that a trip to the sauna sounds better. I am pleased to find when I arrive that there is only a family in the pool and an older man in the hot tub. The sauna is people-free. I slip my shoes off and walk into the steamy bliss. The length of my body stretches out on the bench and I wiggle my toes. It feels amazing. The heat stings my lungs a little but I don’t mind. I just want this chill to melt from my bones. I only remember feeling this way once, and it had been the flu. Hopefully I’m not getting sick. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, only focusing on my breath drawing in and then out. I imagine that I am floating in my own ship in the middle of space, staring at the small particles floating by. The sun heats my back as I face out toward the galaxy. Jupiter looms nearby, huge and deadly─ but beautiful. I am mesmerized by the swirling multicolored gas. I bathe in the warm glow of the sun as it kisses my bare skin. I am completely alone. This has been a form of meditation for years. The thought of being completely isolated and floating through space comforts me. I think it would have the opposite effect for most people. To me, it is heaven. Lately I find myself wanting to be alone more and more. I could live by myself with my computer and art. Art has been a way of life for me for as long as I can remember. I would love to sit outside and draw everything I saw, especially people. I have brought my sketchbook along for this very reason. It’s probably time to do something that calms my nerves before the funeral. I also will need to present something at work. We have weekends off but I never stop drawing. It brings me joy to paint and draw more than anything in this world.
I take several long breaths. Don’t think about that now, I say to myself, think about the warmth. I focus on the heat and my breath. Suddenly, my mind wanders to the first night I had experienced this─ the first night that I had experienced Them. Despite the terrifying sensation of another being thriving off of my pain, I am curious about what They are. Their black hoods flash in my mind and I can see nothing but blackness behind them. Their long, thin bodies would disappear into a sort of translucent grey haze. They never move and stand perfectly still. Deathly still. The beings never say anything, they don’t need to. You can just sense them. Sort of like when you were a child and try to sneak up on your parents. No matter how quiet you thought you were being, they would turn around and shout, ‘boo!’ scaring you instead. Only, these things were dense. They press in upon you until you cannot breathe. Your breath becomes shallow, and your chest feels as though you can be crushed alive at any moment. Your heart feels like it is being torn from your chest. And then comes the cloying, damp air as they invade our plane of existence. They stand there merely existing when they shouldn’t. These awful, horrible creatures shouldn’t be allowed to. And yet I feel as if I can get used to that if it were something as simple as being uncomfortable. Nothing compares to the sensation of death after gruesome death. If this is as bad as my visions, I would lay there and suffer until they decide to release me. Death isn’t what scares me, living does. Please let it take me out in a blast of fiery glory. It will be a welcome end to my suffering.
There is a thought that is beginning to sprout with each passing day. Little by little, I water it and entertain the idea. Zedd was right to do what he did, and I think that I will follow suit. Whatever these creatures are, they aren’t going to stop. I just know that I will die as slowly as possible. Besides, even if I can stock up and get the hell out of dodge, what then? It won’t save me from the fallout. The odds of me finding someone with an underground bunker that’s willing to share is slim to none. There has to be a few of them out there, right? That won’t save the human race. Because in the blink of an eye, entire cities will be wiped out. There will be a lull as the survivors try to seek shelter or help, but by then the radiation sickness will start─ and then black rain. The bombs will take people out in the city right away but the ones just outside of it will suffer this horror in tenfold. People like my parents, people’s families. Even if a decent size population somehow makes it, the hospitals won’t be able to keep up. It will take decades to recover from it. I sigh and my eyes open. I stare at the wooden ceiling above me. I want to be helpful. I want to be one of those people that decide that no matter what, humanity can prevail and I can save them. The truth is, no matter how hard I try or what I say, I have zero proof. And proof is all that matters. If it were me listening to someone say that the world would end, I would laugh and roll my eyes and then move on. It shouldn’t matter to me, but it does. It’s frustrating, and maybe we were both crazy but it doesn’t stop me from getting my feelings hurt. Humans are weird, emotional beings and sometimes I hate being in my own skin. All I can do is try and warn them all and then I can leave with a clean conscience. As dumb as this idea is, I will make it my mission for the next five days to do what I can. I don’t want to live in this kind of world but I can help everyone else that will be stuck in it.