The Watchers Read Online Free PDF Page A

apartment, Jay's was interesting. It was an open space bare brick loft, once desirable on the property market, but not anymore. Now, it just looked like the owner of the building couldn't afford to put plaster on the walls. Still…Tom liked it. The spaces were divided by bookcases and screens; some Japanese, some French, and some just curious, like the one filled with old photographs of female nudes, a collage of exquisite nudity in art form; not porn. Tom scrutinised them with a self-proclaimed expert eye. The photographs were good, but they weren't the work of Jay Pullman's.
    Tom could hear water running behind a wall fashioned from several old glass doors with peeling paint. Since Jay was in the shower, Tom decided to make himself comfortable. In the far corner was Jay’s bed; the base a foot off the floor held up by stacks of old coffee table books. A black sheet was twisted into a knot in the middle of the mattress next to a single black pillow while the other three lay on the floor along with discarded jeans, a crumpled T-shirt and some black sneakers. In the far corner, a seating area displaying an old leather couch and two unmatched easy chairs. A brand new 60" wide flat screen TV dominated the centre (rightly so) and a scratched nineties coffee table held a game's console, two empty Budweiser bottles, a wallet, a cell phone and a set of keys. Tom threw himself onto the couch and picked up the remote to turn on the TV. He placed his feet on the coffee table and surfed the channels while he recalled the night before when they had seen the Watchers in action. Today, it all seemed so surreal, as if it had never happened.
    The Angels were stunning specimens. They were immeasurably strong but Tom thought they also had an unthreatening and serene quality about them too, which wouldn't have been the opinion of the people inside the void. Even though they had destroyed human life they seemed to know who was dangerous and who was not. The dark skinned youth, saved from certain death, had shuffled along the dirt floor when one of the Angels had turned to him, crouched down on his haunches and released the wires from around his wrists as if they were threads of cotton. The rope around his neck took one touch for it to melt away, allowing the boy to rise to his feet and flee.
    Tom and Jay had watched it all. The whole thing had been mesmerising and while he had remained transfixed on the events going on in the clearing, he'd abandoned his natural instincts to aim his camera and click. Instead, he had not one photograph - nada - not one shot to mark an event that could have potentially changed his life. Not one shot! A paparazzi nightmare!
    When it was all over, the one who seemed in charge had looked across the clearing to where Tom and Jay had been hiding behind a tree, as if he knew they were there. Then the seven Angels expanded their wings and like great birds taking flight, they rose up into the sky and disappeared into the night. The scene had been spectacular on every level. Tom considered it to be a monumental life experience, and Tom was all about life experiences.
    “Hey, kid.” Jay was walking out of the bathroom through one of the doors. He was freshly showered, wearing a towel around his waist and rubbing his short hair dry so that it stuck up in points over his scalp. He was clean shaven now, unlike his appearance the night before when his five o’clock shadow threatened to grow wild at midnight.
    Tom figured he was about thirty-five, but he could have been older considering the worry lines on his forehead. Judging by his apartment, he was single, with no wife, no kids, and no dog. He was medium height with a bit of a pot-belly, no doubt the result of many a midnight takeout and he had a tattoo on his upper arm with Carpe Diem etched onto a scroll. Seize the day . He also wore a gold wedding band on his pinky. Divorced, Tom deduced. “Your apartment is too cool, man,” Tom said.
    “Thanks.” Jay went to the