TWENTY-EIGHT
I KNEW IT WAS ONLY A matter of time before Faithless came back —maybe even teamed up with Murder —which didn’t help my insomnia one bit. And for the record, I determined to be way more careful about what I let come out of my mouth.
I realized that if being faithless was evil, it had to mean faith was good, but I couldn’t help that I didn’t have anything to put my faith in. The Watchmen hadn’t exactly proven dependable. And God? Even less so.
When I got to school on Tuesday morning, I learned there’d been another suicide. A freshman kid who was in the marching band. Thankfully I hadn’t known him, but I still took the news hard. Another casualty of an invisible war.
I felt like I’d failed him somehow.
As an eerie twist, “number fifteen” was ranked fifteenth in his class.
There was talk about yet another suicide, but it turned out to be a false alarm. A girl was really sick, but rumor somehow had it that she’d hung herself. How the facts can become that twisted is beyond me, but then again, we’re talking about high school.
I saw Meagan in the hallway, and Lance was a distance away with his back to her, talking to someone. I seized the moment.
“Hey, Meagan, how have you been?”
She was Creeper-free, and on top of that, had a cheerful grin on her face. I hadn’t expected that.
“You look . . . better,” I told her.
She grinned bigger.
“Thanks for coming by the other day and talking to me.”
“I just wanted to help.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. “You did, Owen.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that relieved. Had I actually managed to ward off Suicide?
Sure enough, Demise came creeping along the ceiling above our heads, alerted to our conversation through that maddening eavesdropping ability Creepers had. And as if one wasn’t bad enough, there were now two Creepers spying down on us, both named Demise.
Still, Meagan seemed much happier today. Her old self.
I stepped closer to her. “You know if you ever need anything —”
“What’s this?” I hadn’t noticed Lance approaching. “I thought I told you to stay away from us.”
“I was just saying hi.” I cleared my throat. “And reminding her that she’s an awesome person with an amazing future. Lots to look forward to in life.”
Lance looked me over like I had a skin disease, then grinned at Meagan. “I know who’s got my vote for most likely to succeed —at being weird.”
I don’t know if Meagan stood up for me or not —I walked away at that point.
Ray Anne was ecstatic when I told her about Meagan’s improvement.
After that, the day carried on like a sad song. Creepers wrote on everything like psychopaths. There wasn’t a wall, a row of lockers, or a window left untainted by their vicious black words.
I was on my way to fourth period when a refreshing scent blasted through the hallway. I looked but didn’t see anything. I ran up two flights of stairs, stopping halfway to type out a text to Ray Anne: Watchmen are here. I was sure of it.
I stepped onto the second floor by the library, and a blinding light hit the left side of my face. I shielded my eyes, infused with a sense of calm but also giddy with adrenaline the instant I saw them. Five breathtaking, armor-clad Watchmen in a V formation at the end of the hallway. This time they peered out, not up, staring intently at the oblivious students.
I took refuge beside a section of lockers and sneaked peeks at the celestial giants, anticipating that at any second they would charge. Not that I was scared of them. I just didn’t want to get in their way. Neither did the Creepers, apparently —there wasn’t a single fiend in sight.
Minutes later, the bell rang, and the last few students rushed to class. I came out of hiding one slow step at a time, until I stood facing them across the hall, their radiance so powerful I was actually tempted to bow down again, even if it meant triggering a colossal blast.
Suddenly, it happened. In perfect sync, they strode, covering a massive amount of ground with each step. And they opened their mouths, creating what felt to me like a massive wind tunnel as they blew on the lockers, walls, floors —everything in their path. The rotten graffiti shriveled to dust and disintegrated, disappearing into the whirlwind.
As if that wasn’t astonishing enough, the Watchmen plunged their humongous hands into the walls, pulling hissing Creepers out of hiding by their necks, arms —whatever. I hightailed it back to my post beside the lockers as they passed by me, all of them clutching at least three Creepers in each fist, dragging them along. The Creepers thrashed like they feared for their immortal lives. Whined like they were begging for mercy.
The Watchmen made a sharp turn and stormed down the steps, clearing nearly an entire flight of stairs in one stride. My knees were weak, but I managed to follow, watching as they traveled the length of the main downstairs hallway, blasting graffiti into oblivion and snatching more Creepers out of hiding. They stopped at the end of the hall and hurled the life-sucking vipers through a locked set of double doors, out of our school.
One of the Watchmen turned and faced a stairwell down the hall from me. Just stood there, staring down at . . . what?
I took careful steps that way, then spotted her. Ashlyn, slouched over on the bottom step, an anguished expression on her face as she tore through her purse, searching for something.
There was a Creeper behind her, crouched low, as if it could actually hide from the Watchman. “Do it,” I heard the Creeper hiss at her, in perfect English.
Ashlyn pulled a pill bottle out of her purse and eyed it.
“Do it!” The Creeper was more forceful this time. Ashlyn popped the lid off the bottle. I approached her at the same time that the Watchman closed in on the Creeper, pinning it against the stairs by its crooked neck.
Ashlyn looked up at me, and I extended my open hand toward the pill bottle. Her gaze went right back to the pills, longing in her eyes.
“Those are hurting you,” I said. “Not helping.”
The Watchman took a big step back, ripping the Creeper off of Ashlyn’s chain as if the links were made of tissue paper. The thing flailed its arms and legs like a dying cockroach as the Watchman chucked him out of the school.
Ashlyn stood, peering into my face, thinking it was just the two of us in that hallway. I still held my hand out.
She swallowed hard. “Throw these away for me?” Her eyes pooled. Finally she set the bottle in my hand.
“I will.”
I’d suspected it before, but now I was sure: my life’s purpose was to help people. Not just the ones in physical pain but the tons of people hurting on the inside, battling enemies of the soul. Yeah, I had a lot to figure out and learn in order to pull it off, but I was hopeful that if I didn’t give up I’d eventually find answers.
I had to. Nothing else seemed to matter now.
I was so jittery that it was hard to sit, but I managed to slide into my fourth-period chair. Ray Anne had replied to my text: I’m not surprised Watchmen are here. Look at the time.
So?
Then I remembered. Mrs. Greiner’s prayer group. Did that somehow commission the Watchmen? I didn’t know, but I didn’t see any more of the warriors that day, or that week.
I can’t tell you how discouraging it was to watch the Creepers steadily reemerge, staining my school all over again, desecrating the place with their hatred and degrading words.
I needed something to take my mind off things, and I found it. It was finally time to see Ray Anne in that little red dress.