Story #346 - Watchers

Watchers

“They’ve been there for weeks.” Aaron Sandol’s voice was strained, and he struggled to keep it low even in the dark of his living room. Both hands had begun to ache from gripping his binoculars for so long, but he needed to know what they were doing – needed to know if they moved.

“And?” Andy’s said loudly. The larger man didn’t have much tact, but Aaron had hoped he would at least appreciate the gravity of the situation. “They’re repairmen. I see them on my street all the time – phone lines, or some bull.”

“Really?” Acid churned in Aaron’s belly. “You see these men? These exact two?”

“No –“ His friend started, but Aaron cut him off.

“Exactly! You have no idea. So either help find out why they’re spying on me or get the hell out.” It was harsh, but he couldn’t have anyone around that wasn’t onboard, that didn’t understand what was really happening.

“Aaron,” Andy said as he took a step back, “I’m sorry, man, but I’ve got a wife and kids to look after – I’m already missing an afternoon of work for this. Getting involved in another one of your schemes isn’t something I can do.”

Anger flared; just because a few plans had gone awry and conspirators escaped justice was no reason to be so cowardly.

“Fine,” Aaron grated. “Leave. But don’t come crawling back when you want to know what I’ve uncovered!”

“You take care, Aaron,” his friend said, moving back toward the front door. “I’ll be in touch.” There was a long pause. “So, have you been taking your meds?”

“Get out!” He bellowed, and heard the door creak open, then slam shut. Andy should have known better than to ask – the drugs doctors prescribed him were an attempt to dull his senses, make him less sensitive to the world around him and what was truly going on. He couldn’t afford to be handicapped.

Once he was sure Andy was gone, a quick check of the premises confirmed that no spies had slipped in while the door was open or when Aaron had been distracted by their argument. Back at his post in the living room, he could see that the so-called “repairmen” had opened the same panel they’d been working on the day before; Aaron made a quick note in his log about the oddity. No repair or upgrade job should take so long, nor should it involve repetition of the same action each and every day. Calls to the power company had gotten Aaron nowhere – he had been politely “redirected” each time he was connected and never given any useful information.

He checked the food supply he’d secured; another three days of constant vigil were possible before he’d have to leave his post again. Perhaps something useful would finally come to light.

…

Aaron came awake to the sound of knocking at his door, and as consciousness returned it was difficult to understand how he’d lost it in the first place. A strict diet of energy drinks and nutrition-packs had kept him up for days – apparently his body had finally failed.

Without his faculties fully in place, he was at the front entrance before he realized exactly what he’d done. The door was halfway open when real fear for his safety kicked in, but it was too late.

“Hello sir,” the familiar man in coveralls said in a soft voice. “I’m with the Amitor Power Company. I need to examine your power junction box.”

“What?” Aaron’s eyes were everywhere, searching for the other “workman” he’d seen. “What are you talking about?”

“Your junction box, sir,” the man said with a smile, holding up a laminated ID badge. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

“Come in,” Aaron heard himself say, part of his mind recoiling at the thought of his stalker roaming the house, while another, deeper part assured him that nothing was wrong – that an opportunity had suddenly been presented.

“My partner is just outside,” the man went on, “checking on your wall box. We’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“Thank you,” Aaron replied, leading the way. “I appreciate the quick work. It’s just down here,” he pulled open the basement door and gestured forward. “I’ll be up here if you need me.”

The man disappeared down the stairs and Aaron was moving, sweeping into the kitchen to grab a large butcher knife. Scenarios were spinning out in his head, crazy ideas about how to deal with the men who were clearly out to kill him.

It seemed as though no time elapsed between thought and action, craze and reality when Aaron found himself behind the supposed power company employee, knife raised and ready to strike.

“Sir,” the man said, turning as he heard shifting feet. His eyes widened at the sight of bared steel, and his lips drew back in fear. “Wait!” He cried, throwing up his hands. “Please don’t kill me – I know you’ve been watching us, but we haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Ha!” Aaron snorted out a laugh. “Nice try, spy. I know you’ve been watching me. I know you’ve been looking.”

“Yeah, but that’s it!” The man’s voice was hoarse. “We were told to keep an eye on you – our instructions were to watch for any signs you still had programming left. This was the final part of job – get inside your house and make sure you were ‘normal’”. He dropped to his knees. “Please, don’t kill me! I’ll tell them you’re fine! I swear!”

Fragmented memories came back, shards of a life unlived, controlled by shadowy figures. Personality tried to sweep over programming, tried to assert itself and wrest back control from what had been installed.

The repairman was down before Aaron had time for a second thought, and his grip on the knife tightened. One more remained, one skulking outside that had to be disposed of in order to ensure his privacy.

He scowled and stomped up the stairs. Watching was no longer an option.


- D