The Watcher

The second chapter of my fledgling story/novella/thing. The plot thickens.

 

The Watcher

 

                   Just before accepting his open hand, I look up in the sky; searching for the odd mosquito-motor sound’s origin. A dark, metallic, beach ball-sized thing with antennas and some sort of eye is hovering in the sky, scanning the area and getting closer every second. I can barely make out some symbol on it's side... But before I can inspect it any further, the Traveler's strong hand grabs my own.

                As soon as our palms touch, it happens again. And even though I have some idea of what to expect, the cork-popping, heart-stopping thing still manages to amaze and bewilder me. Having one’s mind, body, and soul skydive through the time space continuum is an experience like no other. I plummet at ridiculous speed through warmth and light, feeling more than seeing or hearing. This, whatever it is, feels like a rollercoaster missing its harness, speeding up all the time. It shoots through me and at the same time becomes me, is me. Then the interspatial floor falls out from under me and it all stops.

This experience seems to take forever and is all-encompassing. But at the same time, it feels as if I blink and it’s over, having not moved an inch.

That’s because I hadn’t.

With my senses overloaded, it takes me a while to muster up the courage to open my eyes. The last time this happened, the world I knew had been paused aside from myself, which had stunned and amazed me, but nowhere near to the extent of what I now see.

This time I can only look breathlessly at the world that surrounds me. I have no idea how many decades –centuries even, we have traveled, all without moving a single inch.

               What had been a thriving downtown of yesteryear is now a splintering wasteland; smoldering heaps of twisted metal litter the places where shops used to be. The air is thick and foul, and a rusty haze clouds the sky. My greatest surprise comes when I look upwards; my eyebrows brush my hairline and my jaw is left on the dusty ground, drooling itself a river.

              The sun, giver of all life and warmth. I remember it as a yellow/white ball high in the sky. Now it is blood red.

I hear a raspy cough behind me and remember the stranger who brought me to this decrepit future. He is perched atop a rock, wheezing his lungs out with one hand in his vest pocket.

              He pulls out a syringe filled with blue liquid and begins to roll up his right sleeve.

             “What’s wrong?” I ask. He coughs, spits, and shakes his head; wordlessly telling me he’ll answer in a moment.

             Squirting some drops out of the space-age hypodermic needle, he pumps his fist, then jabs it into his exposed vein. The effect is immediate, the coughing ceases He breathes in and out deeply, spits some blood out into the dirt, and puts the now-empty needle back in his vest.

             “Sorry about that” he says, “I have a disease that requires medicine...the curse of the Travelers...”

             “Is it contagious?”

             “No, but you will have it eventually. You've experienced the thrill, wonder, and fright of altering the flow of time, such a thing does not come without side-effects, and other...consequences”.

             He gracefully drops down from his rocky perch, and starts walking down the crumbling downtown street. I instinctively follow.

             Just before opening my mouth to ask what the hell had happened to humanity, he begins to explain.

             “As you can see, much has changed since your time. Power placed in the wrong hands chose greed over peace. And that was just the beginning, war spread across the globe, leaving crumbling economies and famine-ridden husks of nations in their wake. Governments devolved into factions and gangs. After a few generations, humanity forgot the meaning of freedom and choice. And the-”

            A sharp hissing noise stops him mid-sentence.

           “Stay back!” he commands, but too late. Something leaps out of a pile of scrap metal and other junk, landing right on my chest. It's a cockroach. One the size of a dog. It hisses and spits at my face, I try to knock it off, but it's legs are buried into my shirt and tearing my skin.

          A crack of gunfire and the bug is off me in a second, my shirt is torn and wet with blood from the King Kong cockroach.  It hobbles away, but another crack and it stays splattered on the dusty road. It's antennae and legs are still wiggling defiantly, but it's over.

         “Where's Terminex when you need them?” I ask, still shaking from the surprise.

         The Traveler is stone-faced, as always, saying “Let me see your injuries”

         “Oh, it nothing, just some scratches that's all, I'm alr-”

        “Let me see them. With your relative lack of exposure, you could easily get radiation poisoning and die... Slowly.”

Author's Note

your feedback would be much appriciated

Reviews

[WaronIdiocy]

This is great. I'm definitely hooked so get another chapter going quick. Great use of detail and you're imagery is amazing. Definitely something I could get stuck reading for several hours, keep it up.

[Norma J. Jessee]

The plot thickens and my interest intensifies. I am a huge fan of S.F. and an avid reader of such. If I am not captured by the first chapter I generally put the book away, You captured me, and now I'm hooked. I love the details, some writer's have too few, some plaster the page with them, but you're right where you should be. And the cockroach, now that's a plus, I loved the fact that you added that part. Cockroaches are famous for surviving any disaster.They can survive a week without their head.It wouldn't surprise me if one day they adapt and learn how to grow a new one.lol

"A unique spellbinder that captures the reader on the first page."

Please keep me informed. Love it