Fallen Watcher

CHAPTER 2-2

Jonathan was now in an alley. He took in his surroundings, making sure no one had seen him, when something caught his attention. As he would soon learn, he had retained his keen sense of hearing as well as his ability to read the thoughts of someone near him. He walked toward the street and saw a woman pass by, walking alone. Perhaps she had just left work and was hurrying to get home in this weather. Her thoughts, though, were what caught his attention—all jumbled and on top of each other. Jonathan could see a nervousness all about her, something he couldn’t shake. Then he saw two men walking behind her, their pace a bit quicker than hers, like predators stalking their prey.

Jonathan crossed to the other side of the street, behind the two men. The young woman turned the corner and the two men followed. In an instant they were out of his sight. Quickening his own pace, Jonathan turned the corner only to find they had disappeared. Scanning the empty street as it was being blanketed by rain, he couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, a scream pierced the night. He followed it to an alley and rushed over to find the two men had cornered the woman. She was doing her best to fight them off. One was behind her, holding her, while the other man was in front of her, tearing her purse from her hands.

“Please, stop, I don’t have anything valuable!”

“Oh, sure, like we’ve never heard that before,” one of them sneered at her as he held her by her arms. “You have something that’s better than cash.”

The other man began rummaging through the contents of the purse. He pulled the wallet out and tossed the purse aside. “Bingo,” he said, opening it. Finding no cash, just cards, he cursed under his breath and closed in on the woman, “No cash, so it looks like we’re going hungry. You’ll have to pay for that.” He bared his ugly, stained teeth. “Hold her still, Joe, I’m first.” The woman screamed, but the man behind her put one of his hands over her mouth. “Let her yell, Joe. I like it when they yell.”

“Stop it now, before you do something you’ll regret.”

The man turned abruptly to see Jonathan behind him. He was significantly bigger and taller than either man. “Whoa, what kind of a freak are you?”

“You two can still walk away from this, but let her go, or I’ll make you do it myself,” Jonathan said coolly.

“Get a load of this huge freak, thinking he’s gonna get a taste of our catch,” Joe said. “We aren’t playing, you big freak. You know the saying, ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ Get him, Mike, mess him up good.”

The other man pushed the woman aside and pulled out a knife. “Let’s go, big man. You wanna play?”

“Yes, I do want to play,” Jonathan said as he walked toward him. “You see, it’s been a bad day. It might cheer me up to teach you two some manners.” He showed no sign of fear at the knife being waved back and forth in front of him.

Mike lunged at Jonathan with the knife, but Jonathan caught the man’s wrist and snapped it with one quick movement, causing his fingers to go limp as the knife fell to the ground. Still gripping the man’s wrist, Jonathan gave him a direct punch to the throat. The man dropped to his knees, grasping his neck.

Jonathan then turned his attention to Joe.

“Enough of this,” the second robber said as he reached behind him and pulled out a handgun. Before he could squeeze the trigger, Jonathan was upon him, taking his weapon and pitching it to the side. He held Joe’s head in the palm of his hand and slammed it against the wall. As Jonathan released his hold, the man fell limp at his feet.

Jonathan then turned around to see if he could help the woman, but she had grabbed something from her purse and sprayed him in the face with it. Sticking his hand up to block the spray from his mouth he looked at her dumbly. “Miss, are you okay?”

Still aiming the can at Jonathan, she had a look of pure terror on her face. She stared at the spray can and then dropped it. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” she said, her voice trembling. “Take whatever you want, but please don’t hurt me. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Jonathan replied. “I’m simply here to help. My name is Jonathan, and I promise I won’t hurt you.” He wiped at his eyes to get whatever solution she sprayed into them out of his vision. A bitter aftertaste followed, causing him to perform an act that he’d never done before. Spitting several times to be rid of the solution that had gotten into his mouth, satisfied that most of the bitterness had dissipated, Jonathan spoke.

“There’s a hospital not far from here. If you like, I’ll take you there so that you can be checked out.”

The woman, still shaking and trembling, put her hands over her face and began to sob. Not knowing if he should approach her, Jonathan turned his attention to the woman’s belongings. He gathered them up and put them back in her purse. Jonathan then stood, walked over to the gun and knife, and picked them up. Lastly, he walked over to one of the assailants still lying on the ground and shook his head at him in pity.

“I can tell you that you and your friend are traveling down a path that only leads to hurt, torment, and pain. All the wrongs you have done in your life will be nothing compared to the fires of Hell that will one day nip at you. There will only be more torment for you unless you take up a new path.”

“Please—I don’t want to die; please don’t kill me!” the man begged. Jonathan crouched down until he was face-to-face with the man and gave him an icy stare. He showed him the gun in his hand, and the man began to beg for his life. “Oh no, please, don’t do this! I’m sorry!”

“The things that I have seen would cause you to soil yourself,” Jonathan replied. “You cannot imagine what I could do to you. Turn yourself into the cops, own up for your bad deeds, and I won’t come back for you.”

Jonathan closed his hand around the gun and squeezed. He opened his palm and revealed nothing more than a twisted, misshapen piece of metal and dropped it on the ground. He then bent the blade of the knife back on itself, rendering it useless. “I’m not joking. Turn yourself in and choose a new path. Seek refuge in the Lord our Savior. And know that if I wanted you dead, I would have done it by now.” And with that, Jonathan stood and turned to walk away.

“Who are you?” the man called out.

“My name is Jonathan. Remember what I have told you.”

Walking over to the woman, still not knowing how to comfort her, he simply offered her the purse. Not looking at him, she took the purse. “Thank you,” she offered in a small, nervous voice.

“May I accompany you to the hospital?”

Looking up at him, new tears began to well in her eyes. “Okay, yes, thank you.”

“You are very welcome.” Jonathan offered her his arm. She shied away.

“Not to be rude, but, um . . . you smell like pepper spray.”

“Pepper spray,” Jonathan said, running his tongue along his mouth and then looking down at his coat and pants, and then back at the woman, with a puzzled expression. She shrugged her shoulders, and her mouth relaxed into a small smile, revealing an attractive young woman, whom Jonathan guessed to be in her early thirties. She wore a business suit under her now dripping wet overcoat.

“Most people,” she said, “are not immune to pepper spray as you seem to be.”

“Oh,” he said. “I see. Well, I’m not immune to it—it must be the rain—it’s washing it away.

“I’m so sorry.”

Jonathan led her out of the alley. “Don’t give it another thought, Miss. I’m just glad we both came out of this alive.”

“My name is Allison,” she said. “Well, my actual name is Mary, but everyone calls me Allison. But my parents and a few friends sometimes call me Mags since it’s my initials.”

Jonathan suddenly stopped. He felt the sting of that name, his beloved he had failed. The person he had watched night and day her entire life. What he wouldn’t give to hear her laugh again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Hoping the shock he felt wasn’t registering on his face, Jonathan quickly composed himself. “No, nothing is wrong; just this weather sure will take it out of you, and it seems to be doing that to me. I must be getting old. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

She chuckled. “You, old? Please, you can’t be more than thirty.” The light conversation continued all the way to the hospital. Once there, Jonathan asked Allison if there was anything else that he could do to help.

“You’re not coming in?” she gave him a queer look. “I figured you’d need to be checked out as well.”

Jonathan tried to think of an excuse as to why he didn’t want to walk back into the building where his sweet girl lay dead. “No, there are other young women I must rescue,” he said, giving her a small smile. He started to extend his hand, but then remembered the pepper spray and pulled it back. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. While looking up at him, her eyes started to tear up.

“Words will never be able to express how grateful I am for you. Thank you, so much.” Releasing his hand, she dug inside her purse and took out a card. “This is my business card. If you ever need anything from me, please call.” He hesitated, not sure what to say, so she took the initiative and put the card inside his top right jacket pocket.

With that, she turned and walked away, and then called over her shoulder. “Seriously, if you ever need anything . . . job, help, money, or just a friend, please call me.” With that, she walked into the hospital and disappeared.

Reaching inside his jacket pocket and pulling the card out, he looked down to find her name, Mary Allison Gregory. Underneath the name read, CEO of Gregory Portal Provider with two phone numbers. He placed it back inside his pocket.