The Fifth Watcher

By Melissa Barker-Simpson

At the moment of Audrey Montgomery’s birth a new world came into existence. It is a barren place, a catalyst for the darkness spreading through the multidimensional system. The shift in power makes Audrey an invaluable pawn in a war between those who want to protect her and those who will go to extraordinary lengths to eliminate her.
As a result, she has spent her life on the run, unaware of her true origins. When her father dies and leaves her with a shocking legacy, her life is irrevocably changed. If she has any hope of surviving, Audrey must embrace her new reality and trust a man who is as dark and uncertain as the future itself.
Lieutenant Keith Delany, an Interdimensional Officer of the Law (IDOL), is tasked with bringing her in. It is an assignment his entire team is invested in, having spent years searching for her. As a senior member of the squad, Keith is charged with protecting her, with showing her the truth about her past, and with preparing her for an unknown future. As an IDOL he is responsible for every life, for every traveller who navigates the system. But his connection to Audrey is unprecedented, and he soon discovers she alone holds the power to prevent the continuum’s collapse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melissa Barker-Simpson
• Release date: Nov 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311241337

Melissa Barker-Simpson

I've been writing since, well...since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I often look back on those earlier stories, and apart from laughing at the heavy-handed drama, or cringing at my inexperience, I am reminded that I have always lived in other worlds. My first novel was published in 2008, and I love nothing more than working on a new project. The voices inside my head invariably pull me in different directions, so although I try to work on one thing at a time, those who know me would tell you it doesn't always work! I have a full-time job which, though does not involve writing per se, incorporates my love of language. As a British Sign Language Interpreter, I get to translate information between two languages which is (mostly) fun. I have two beautiful daughters who bring me great joy. They also keep me grounded, because otherwise I would have my head in the clouds permanently!

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The Fifth Watcher

Copyright 2014 Melissa Barker-Simpson

Published by Melissa Barker-Simpson at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For you, Dad. I miss you.

Acknowledgements

Since beginning this journey, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting some incredible people; those who have become friends along the way. I feel extremely fortunate to belong to an online community of writers, who offer their support and guidance each and every day.

I would like to thank Renee Scattergood, Silvia Curry, Patricia Lynne, and David Burton for the input. Their advice has proved invaluable and I am truly grateful for the time and consideration.

Chapter One

Audrey

AG-61

I was five years old when they came for me. I don’t recall everything that happened, and perhaps I never will. But I know there were four of them.

They were dressed completely in black, blending into the shadows of my bedroom like wraiths in the night.

I couldn’t scream, couldn’t even move. I was frozen in a cocoon of fear, incapable of defending myself.

What happened after is a muddy web of confusion. I recall being bound and driven away from my home. It was dark inside the van. The only light came from the front, as we travelled beneath a series of streetlamps. They cast an unnatural glow, distorting my surroundings and feeding the fear.

I remember squeezing my eyes shut and wishing for home, praying with all my heart to be free of the nightmare. Then, nothing. Nothing except being alone in a foreign land.

How I got there, why I was there, I couldn’t answer, though I asked myself time and time again. It is a place I tried to forget, and for the most part, I succeeded. But now my memories are tangled with the fear of that night and the dreams that lingered behind.

I can tell you it was cold. So cold it went bone deep. I wanted to curl into myself and disappear. But I didn’t. For a while, I wandered around, lost and disorientated. Though I’m not sure how much of it is real, and how much is just my mind filling in the blanks.

In my dreams the landscape is unrecognisable; a cold, barren place, as foreign as another country. I often wake with a heavy chest, a kind of sensory memory which scares me more than the place itself.

When my parents found me, I was unconscious. I know that because my father told me.

But there are a lot of things he didn’t tell me, not then. Things I discovered when he was gone, torn from my life when I needed him the most.

‘I’m still here, sweetheart,’ he said in my head, his words an echo of the man.

Turning from the window I glanced at his frozen image on my TV monitor. I had watched the tape over and over, and still I questioned his reasons for keeping me in the dark.

But you’re not here, I said into the empty room. You left me and now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

‘I taught you all you need to know.’

Staring into his face, I imagined him filling the space as he once had. That he was in the room with me, and could help me understand the new reality he had left me with.

He had been a handsome man, though the image didn’t do him justice. His sandy hair had been thick and soft, enviably so. On the screen, it hung limp and lifeless. He had been a soldier, and his tall, strong physique still bore the discipline of that life. His dark blue eyes didn’t shine as they had in life, and the illusion hurt a little.

I feel like my whole life is a lie, I whispered, reaching for the remote because I could no longer hear him in my head.

My darling, Audrey, he began. "If you’re watching this, it means we’ve been compromised, and you don’t have much time.

I wish with all of my heart I could have protected you, but believe me when I say, if my keeping you safe has failed, and you’re watching this, I’m truly sorry for what you are about to face.

You could never fail me, Dad, I said, because I couldn’t watch him struggle for breath. That was the hardest part, seeing how much the disease had taken from him, from all of us.

We had moved so many times in the last twenty years I had lost count. We never stayed in one place for longer than six months, not until the cancer.

On the screen he was talking again, but I zoned out, watching for the fire in his eyes. This was the man I remembered, full of spirit and determination. Whatever else the cancer had taken, it couldn't take that.

I’ve had so many opportunities to tell you the truth, opportunities I squandered because of my own cowardice. When we lost your mother, and then years later when I met Ann and we became a family again. I should have told you then. It haunts me knowing how much I failed you. All the hours we spent together, preparing you for this, and not once did I share the truth about your heritage.

You should have told me, I said, remembering our long conversations. But then I had had opportunities too. Times when I could have pushed for the answers.

It was easy to pretend it didn’t matter. After the abduction our lives had changed, and at least for a while, I was caught up in that.

He had been different back then, before he gave in to his fear of losing me. I still remembered his sunny smile and easy-going temperament. The way he would call me his little miracle and make jokes about how I would conquer the world.

That part of him shifted overnight, and to a young girl, the change had been terrifying.

He took longer to laugh, his eyes were troubled, and his face was tense. He embraced the soldier in him and forgot about the man.

Am I still your little miracle, Dad? I said, trying to concentrate on his words. I could recite them by heart now.

Do you remember the stories I told you when you were a little girl? The tales of other worlds and of the travellers who frequented them? he asked from the television.

I remember.

You loved to hear about their adventures, of what they would find in new lands, and the ways in which they would share their knowledge. There was even a time you believed it. I wish I could go back and tell you what I'm about to tell you now. By accepting the truth of your birth, you would be able to face the rest.

It’s all true, sweetheart. All of it, I echoed his words.

I’ve never been good at opening up. Not in this reality. But there are others, different versions of me who are far better at this sort of thing. I share a connection with all of them, and in some ways, so do you.

I zoned out again, knowing what came next. How he pleaded with me not to blame Ann, my mom, for her part in the deception. But how could I? She didn’t decide my fate, or convince me a lie was better than the truth.

As far as secrets went - it was a doozy. Ours is not the only universe; well, didn’t that just fill you with confidence?

I thought of the masked men, and wondered if they had travelled from another dimension. It didn’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things, but I found I really wanted to know. They came because I was valuable, or at least that’s what my father had said. In a roundabout way.

"It began with Cassidy. Not your mother, but another version of her. The one who rightly belongs in this dimension.

We grew up together, and shared the kind of relationship you had with Nathaniel. If I had accepted our fate, accepted the friendship she offered, then our lives might have been different.

How do you fit an entire lifetime into a ten minute video clip? I wondered, listening again. I knew very little about the man he described.

It was easy to imagine. I had loved Nathaniel like a brother. We were instant friends, almost ready-made. My father liked to say we came as a package.

It had little to do with my ability to relate to people. The friendships I developed were fleeting. Our lifestyle taught me the danger of attachments.

With Nathaniel it was different, and losing him had been one of the hardest things I had faced. Until my father’s death.

Why did the Rileys come with us? I asked aloud, thinking of Nathaniel’s family.

That first time, when my father had uprooted us from our lives, the Rileys travelled with us. Nathaniel’s parents were still with us.

I frowned, bothered by the question, and listened for his next words. Not because I thought he would say something unexpected, but because this was the crux of it.

"I was foolish. I believed myself in love, and I even convinced Cassidy for a while. But eventually I lost her, because it was too hard to live a lie.

"I went a little crazy, I think. I travelled more than I should, using other versions of myself as a host so I could be with her again.

I didn’t find what I was looking for, not until I met your mother.

"For weeks I lived in fear. I was convinced she would disappear, dismissing my affections as those of a man obsessed with another. I thought she would see herself as a substitute, a carbon copy of the woman I had once loved. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The Cassidy I’d been searching for, the one I thought I’d loved and lost, was the replica: the one who would prepare me for the real thing.

How foolish I was, and how grateful when I realised my fears were unfounded. She felt it too, your mother, and we were so much in love.

My father’s words blurred, like his face through my tears, as I remembered my mother.

She’d broken her vows by making a home here. It should have been simple. As an interdimensional officer of the law, an IDOL, she had been sent to sanction my father for his careless behaviour. By travelling in excess he had endangered - not only his life, but the lives of his hosts. Instead she had fallen in love with him and turned her back on everything she knew.

That woman is a stranger to me. Yet I understand her reasons. Above all else my mother was honest. She was also passionate, strong, and loved us with everything she had. Her inherent need for justice - and I see it now - was a result of her old life. One I wasn’t part of.

The knock on my bedroom door startled me, and I turned guiltily towards Ann as she peered inside. Are you packed? she asked.

I nodded towards my suitcase by the bed. When it came to gathering my things in a hurry, I was an old hat.

On the TV my father’s monologue continued, stealing our attention.

We didn’t think about the consequences, not then. It was only later that we understood what our union meant. Your birth caused an imbalance and another world was born the instant you came into our lives.

Why do you torture yourself? Ann asked, walking into the room. If you have questions, you need only ask.

The person I needed to hear it from wasn’t here, but I didn’t say that. I know. I just… miss him, I guess.

She nodded and turned towards the screen. Her pretty face was pinched in an effort not to cry. Again.

I pointed the remote at the screen.

No, Ann said, as my finger hovered over the pause button. Just one minute.

I knew which part she wanted to hear. My eyes burned as I continued to watch her face.

Her pale blonde curls were straighter than usual, a biological result of her grief. It happened when she was ill too, as though the bounce of her personality, the way she felt, was tied directly to the curl.

Sensing my scrutiny she turned and met my eyes. Hers were a rich and vibrant green, though right now the haunted tint in them dulled the effect.

We both turned as my father began to speak of my mother’s death.

"I was devastated when she died. I don’t know how I would have survived if not for Ann. She protected us, kept our secret, and gave me the kind of love I’m not sure I deserve. And oh, how she loves you. You are