Chapter 4: Watched
1151 Words
The cameras went up overnight.
Alex saw them the instant he got off the bus Monday morning. Black domes on every hallway ceiling, lenses along the courtyard walls, one hidden high in the branches of the old oak tree. Red indicator lights blinked steadily. A crew was still finishing installations near the gym and entrances, the whine of drills carrying across the grounds. By second period the group chats were alive with photos: students waving at the new lenses, hunting for any remaining blind spots.
The intercom announcement came during lunch. Enhanced security system now fully operational across campus. Every corridor, stairwell, courtyard corner, parking lot, and gate covered in real time. Monitored live. For student safety. Bathrooms stayed private, but everywhere else belonged to the cameras now. Everyone understood the real trigger: the fights, the videos, the pressure to regain control.
Alex stayed disciplined. Classes, fast lunch alone, straight to Academic Decathlon practice. The lacrosse team kept their distance. Trent’s looks were poisonous but short-lived under the red lights.
That evening The Anchor was quiet. A few regulars watched a silent game on the television. Dad worked behind the bar with his usual calm rhythm, restocking, polishing. Mia finished homework early and came down to help wipe tables. When the last customer left, Richard locked the door, turned the sign to Closed, and they sat together at the counter.
Dad poured himself a small glass of red wine. Mia took a soda. Alex had water. The red neon outside bathed the room in its familiar hue.
Mia started immediately. “The cameras are everywhere. Every hallway, every courtyard corner, even the vending alcoves. It’s like we can’t move without being watched.”
Richard sipped his wine. “Cameras in every corner will help stop the bullies. No more hidden places to gang up on someone. Everything gets recorded. Proof when it matters.”
Alex looked at him. “You think it’ll work?”
Richard nodded. “Most bullies need darkness to feel brave. Take that away, and much of it ends.” His voice dropped slightly. “And if it doesn’t end, there’s evidence. Clear and undeniable. That protects the ones who need protecting.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Still creepy.”
Richard offered a small smile and tugged her ponytail gently. “Better watched than hurt. Off to bed. Happy birthday in advance little princess.”
Mia sighed dramatically, grabbed her soda, and headed upstairs. Alex followed a minute later, helping stack the last chairs before saying goodnight. He climbed the narrow stairs, shut his bedroom door, changed, and scrolled his phone until sleep took him.
Downstairs, alone in the empty bar, Richard waited until both doors above clicked shut.
Only then did he step into the small office behind the stockroom, open the safe hidden beneath the bottom shelf, and retrieve the black phone. No contacts, no photos, only one app.
He unlocked it and opened the icon.
The screen divided into a perfect grid of live feeds. Crestwood Academy in flawless detail. Every new camera he had paid for through an anonymous donation to the security upgrade, routed through a trusted shell company and the board. Direct access, no intermediaries. His gift to the school. His eyes on his children .
He scrolled slowly, checking the courtyard, the gates, the path Alex took each afternoon. Rain speckled some exterior lenses. Everything quiet.
He locked the phone, returned it to the safe, and turned off the bar lights. The red neon outside held steady.
The week passed in wary peace. Cameras caught small infractions daily: a deliberate trip in the hall, a stolen lunch tray. Detentions followed fast. The bigger threats stayed silent. Alex kept to his corners, dominated quiz practice, ignored lingering stares.
Emma Valenti joined Academic Decathlon mid-week. She claimed a seat across the table, answered every question perfectly. Alex sat three seats away. They never spoke, never acknowledged each other. She was simply another competitor.
Thursday the sky was heavy with rain. Final bell rang. Alex left the library last, notes packed. Mia had an early dismissal that day for a dentist appointment, so they had arranged to meet at the side gate and walk the two blocks to the city bus stop together. She was waiting for him just outside the gate, backpack slung over one shoulder, earbuds in but music low.
They started down the tree-lined residential sidewalk side by side, the school fading behind them. The city had no cameras on this quiet stretch. A known blank spot.
They were halfway down the first block when the black SUV pulled up beside them, tires hissing on wet asphalt.
Rear door opened. Two men in dark jackets stepped out fast.
Alex reacted instantly.
He shoved Mia hard toward the opposite sidewalk. “Run! Call the police! Or Dad! Now!”
Mia stumbled, eyes wide with shock, but she turned and sprinted back toward the school gate, phone already in her hand.
Alex dropped his backpack and fought.
He swung first, landing a solid jab to the nearer man’s jaw. The guy reeled. Alex followed with a knee to the second man’s thigh, feeling the impact jar his leg.
They were professionals. They recovered fast.
One twisted his arm behind his back. Alex stomped on the instep, elbowed the first in the nose. Blood sprayed. He broke free, putting himself between the men and the direction Mia had run.
A soft pop.
Sharp sting in his neck.
He slapped at it, fingers closing on a small dart. Vision swam immediately. Limbs grew heavy, the world tilting.
Tranquilizer.
He staggered forward two steps, trying to keep his feet, trying to buy Mia more time. The men caught him as he swayed, dragging him toward the open door.
His last glimpse was Mia reaching the gate, disappearing through it, safe inside camera range.
Then everything went black.
They loaded him into the back seat. Door slammed. The SUV accelerated away, turning the corner smoothly. Rain poured harder, washing the sidewalk.
No school cameras reached this far. No city cameras covered the block. Perfect blank spot.
Miles away, in the locked office of The Anchor, the burner phone stayed silent.
Richard had watched Alex and Mia leave the gate together on the final campus feed, step onto the sidewalk, vanish from view.
Now there was only Mia running back in fear, bursting through the gate alone, tears streaming as she dialed 911 on her phone, voice breaking as she reported the k********g to the police.
Afraid to call their father, terrified the news would shatter him.
Not knowing he already saw everything.
He stared at the frozen frame of Mia’s terrified face under the gate camera, his own expression carved from stone.
Then he closed the app, picked up a different phone, and started making calls.
The valley was about to remember who he really was.
- Writer
