Chapter 5: Homeless

"Here you go," the older lady behind the motel front desk says, holding out two key cards.

I take them and smile. I'm happy to finally have a decent bed to sleep in after two nights on a hard sofa in Uncle John's hospital room.

"You're paid up for the rest of the month. If you need your rooms for longer, just let us know."

I nod and walk back out to my car. Aunt Kelly is waiting in her Explorer with Uncle John, who looks asleep and is most likely high on pain meds. She's wiping her eyes.

"Are you okay?" I ask, hoping the concern on my face doesn't reveal how frightened I really am. She doesn't need that extra burden right now.

"Oh, yeah, honey." She quickly hides the Kleenex I already saw. "I just hate that you're having to use your inheritance money." She looks over at Uncle John, then back to me, and whispers, "He doesn't know this, but I managed to put a little money away for emergencies... It's not-"

I interrupt her guilt trip. "Aunt Kelly, this was my choice and I want to help. Besides, you really don't have a choice-my mind's made up." I smile a little wider and watch the hesitation on her face subside. "Here," I hand her their suite card key, "I was able to get a room right next to yours."

After getting Uncle John settled in bed, Aunt Kelly manages to make a quick grocery run before stopping by the house to pick up the salvaged clothes a few of the neighbors gathered from our closets. It was really nice of them and I'm happy to have a few sets of newly washed clothes.

The tiny kitchenette doesn't have an oven but there's a hot plate for stovetop cooking, a microwave, small fridge, and a coffee pot. All the basic essentials needed until we figure out what to do from here. I can afford a lot more but Aunt Kelly insisted on something simple and functional. I know cooking dinner is her attempt at keeping things as normal as possible, and I'm grateful for her all over again.

"I'm gonna grab a shower and go to bed," I say as I take the last bite of my chicken. "Let me help you clean up."

"Nope. I got it, honey, get some rest," Aunt Kelly says, kissing my cheek as she gives me a quick hug.

"Okay, text me if you need me," I whisper, glancing over at Uncle John, still passed out from pain meds, before letting go.

***

My room isn't fancy but it's clean and there's a thick white robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It's too big but that makes it more comforting as I wrap it tightly around my body and slip into bed.

I'm exhausted but the second I close my eyes, horrific images of the past 24 hours slam into my head. I wonder if this is what Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome feels like. Reaching for the remote, I flip through channels, eventually finding an old movie-anything that might help take my mind off today.

But it's no use.

I can't stop thinking about the firefighter. He was the Watchman or wait, Dominic-I need to figure out what the hell to call him. The fact that he miraculously showed up and carried me out of our burning house makes me question everything. How did he know I was in trouble? How was he there at just the right time? I need to find him. I need answers. I have to go back to the graveyard as soon as possible. I know he'll be there.

I can almost feel him.

***

I wake up to a sound I'm not used to and have to think for a second before realizing where I am. A moderately expensive motel where people stay for business trips or family reunions, not because their house burned to the ground-along with everything else they own.

I fumble around for my cell phone, thankful the neighbors found my charger, and plug it in on the table next to me-the one with the touch-on lamp and a Bible tucked inside the drawer. I push the toggle button, but have to squint when the bright screen flashes on. It's nearly two in the morning and I've only been asleep for maybe an hour. No huge surprise. This isn't my bed and these aren't my sheets.

It's starting to feel like my life is spinning out of control.

Again.

Only now I've lost even more. It's like the fire was the universe's final blow in its quest to drive me bat-shit crazy, well on my way back to being borderline suicidal. I can't take much more.

After Zack died and the gravity of losing another family member, not to mention my best friend, actually sunk in, I felt the anxiety and depression creeping up my spine like a snake waiting for the right moment to strike. The same slithering snake, hiding just beneath my already unstable thoughts, seems to be growing. Those thoughts never left, they just became diluted by new chaos, the kind of chaos that not only confuses me but also scares the shit out of me.

The Watchman.

Who is he? Why is he watching me? And hell, is he even human?

All I know is he keeps showing up when I least expect it, like freaking Superman but way bigger and much darker. I'm not sure if it's evil I feel or just his sheer power. He spoke to me. Told me his name. But I need to know more. There's only one way to find out and I'm pretty sure I know where to go. I'll never sleep until I get some answers.

I toss off the covers and touch the base of the lamp. The light is blinding for a second but I manage to find my car keys and slip on my jeans and red sweater without crashing into anything. My heart is practically pounding out of my chest, the thud deafening in my ears. It's so loud I'm grateful only I can hear it as I carefully open the door, completely unaware that my life is about to change forever.

I start the Volvo, checking my phone while I wait for the seat to warm up.

Skylar: Holy shit! Just heard what happened! R U Ok?

Skylar: Kate, where are U?

Skylar: Call me!

I look at the time stamps and realize he's been sending them since yesterday morning.

Shit.

Me: Dude, I'm an orphan AND homeless 2.

I meant to be funny but I'm not sure he'll take it that way so I type "LOL" and hit send.

Ten seconds later my phone chirps, startling me out of my thoughts.

Skylar: Where are U? And why RU up so late?

Me: Holiday Inn Suites on N. Main. Can't sleep.

Skylar: Will you be at school today?

Crap. School hasn't crossed my mind since Friday when I took my physics test. It's the last place I want to be right now.

Me: No, I'm gonna need a couple days. Thx for the reminder. I'll tell Aunt Kelly to excuse me.

Skylar: It's only a half day before Thxgiving break. U won't be missing much.

Thank God.

Skylar: Need anything? I'm available if you want a shoulder to cry on.

He's serious, too, but I know if I take him up on his offer it'll send the wrong message. I adore Skylar, but I don't want to be his girlfriend. I never have. As nice of an offer as it is, it wouldn't help our "situation" any.

Me: I'm okay, THKS, gonna try to sleep. Text ya later.

Skylar: KK. Text me any time day or night.

Whew...another potential problem diverted. I don't need to be the center of attention at school. I can't handle people staring at me with their faces full of pity. Not again.

Check.

I put the Volvo in reverse and pull out of the parking lot, heading straight for the cemetery. The nighttime sky seems darker than usual but it's weirdly comforting, like it's somehow shrouding me. Could all of this just be a bad dream?

God, what I wouldn't give...

I tremble as sharp pins begin poking around in my stomach. I probably shouldn't be doing this-driving to my brother's grave to get answers from a strange man, or whatever he is. I'm not even sure I'll get them. My fingers grip the steering wheel so tightly they start to ache and the further I drive the more nauseated I get. Should I turn around? Should I forget I ever saw him? He saved my life...don't I owe him a thank you? No, that's not even close to the truth. I want to see him and it's not the answers I crave.

It's him...

Who is he?

Where did he come from?

Why me?

I slowly pull through the cemetery gates. I can only see a few headstones just in front, reflecting off my headlights. It's too damn dark to see anything beyond them, so I put the car in park and reach for the flashlight in the glove box. My mother always kept one for emergencies. Not sure this is an emergency but I do know I'll go completely insane if I don't find out what's going on-and soon. I test it and it works...thank God.

The air here is completely different than it was at the hotel. There it was somewhat breezy and dry but now it's the polar opposite. There's zero wind and it's chilly and wet, like rain might be coming.

That's strange.

Shrugging it off, I try to focus on the task at hand. Finding the Watchman.

Gravel under my feet disrupts the quiet night, or, morning, actually. Wait a minute. I don't hear crickets or birds or anything. That's weird. This place is as silent as a padded room.

My heart starts to beat faster and I'm not sure if it's because I'm visiting my brother's grave in the dead of night or I'm just starting to freak out. It doesn't take long for the goosebumps to ripple up my arms. I stop in my tracks when my flashlight finds him crouched down in front of Zack's headstone.

Calm down, Kate. Calm down.

I stand frozen, keeping the light on his back, but he's completely wordless as I stare. Seconds that feel like minutes go by before he finally stands up. I can't see his face but I'm astonished all over again at his enormous size.

"Turn it off," he says, his voice low and deep.

Without a word, I look down and immediately hit the off switch and toss the flashlight to the ground. When I look up, he's facing me, but all I see is the outline of him. He then slowly turns to walk away, looking back as if checking to see if I'm following him.

And I am...