The Hastings Watchman 3: The Freak That Washed Ashore

The Vancity Vigilante is back, fighting his strongest foe yet–The Freak! With triple the action! Triple the thrills! If you’re a superhero nerd, this is an episode you don’t want to miss!

Written by Gregory Patrick Travers

Where do I start? This story doesn’t really have a beginning because the last story never really had an ending. They’re sewn together, like some sort of conjoined literary fetus, unable to exist without the other. So I guess the best place to start would be where we last left off, with me at the Conservative Party campaign wrap-up dinner, standing behind the Hipster with a gun in my hand, pulling the trigger, saving the girl and killing the bad guy.

Only I didn’t kill the bad guy, did I? Despite putting a fucking bullet in his head, the Hipster got away. The powers he gained from injecting himself with Rejuvicell made a bullet wound to the head the equivalent of scraping your knee on the pavement.

But, despite his escape, we stopped the Hipsters plan to infect the Conservative Party leaders with a vile of toxic radiation. Not only that, I got the exclusive eye witness account of the whole thing…and pictures to boot. The Sun ran the story on page one, with a headline that read, “The Watchman Returns!” and below that was one of the pictures I managed to snap off while the Watchman was battling the Hipsters goons.

Papers were flying off the shelves with people wanting to get a look at a real live superhero in their city. They never gave a fuck when he was out there saving homeless people, but rescuing a politician like Georgio Mochella made him an overnight celebrity. And I became his spokesperson. I was invited on several local news and talk programs, talk radio shows, I even got interviewed by Audrey Mason on Channel 5. And all of them asked the same questions, like, “Who was he?” “How did he get his powers?” and “What’s the deal with those sonic blasters?”

Of course, I knew all the answers to those questions…but I wasn’t about to reveal the Watchman’s identity on live television. Not when Susan still didn’t know. I couldn’t tell them that the Watchman was really Dr.Stewart Drake, Susan’s father, a pharmaceutical engineer for Axel Industries who was presumed to have died in a massive fire years before. Instead, I told them what they wanted to hear; cheesy shit that would sell more papers and ad spots. I said he never told me his true identity, but based on his advanced technology and his super-human healing abilities, I assumed he had come from another planet and was here to protect the human race.

And they ate it up.

They didn’t know that his powers of healing really came from a serum he created called Rejuvicell. A serum he administered on himself in the midst of the fire to save his life–and make him the Watchman!

And they wouldn’t ever know, because the Watchman swore to blow my head off if Susan ever found out. He preferred that she continue to believe he was dead and remember him for the man he was, not the scarred “freak” he had become. But it is hard to keep a secret from the one you love. Especially one that you know would mean the world to her.

“I wonder what he would think of this whole Watchman thing…” she said one night as we were out for dinner.

“Who?” I asked.

“My dad, silly.”

When she said that I nearly choked on my salmon.

“Why would you wonder something like that?” I asked.

“Well, he was a doctor and a very curious mind. He discovered Rejuvicell! The Watchman battled the Hipster, sure…but he was really fighting the Rejuvicell. I wonder what he would think about his creation being used for such evil purposes.”

“I don’t know,” I said, hoping the topic would go away.

“Sorry I keep bringing him up,” She said. “It’s his birthday today.”

I laughed, “It’s the Watchman’s birthday today?”

“No, my dad’s. He would have been 43.”

“Oh, of course,” I said, covering my slip.

Just then my phone rang which, believe me, I was grateful for. Anything that got us off the topic of her father and the Watchman was okay with me. It was a private number, but I picked it up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jake,” said the voice on the other end. “It’s Jonah, the intern.”

Jonah, the intern. Ever since that night at the Pacific Rim, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He’d always find me in the office and let me know, in a joking way, that I stole the Hipster story from him. Because I took his press pass and sent him home. He was a ballsy little fuck…I might have respected him if he wasn’t so awkward and annoying.

“Oh, hey Jonah,” I sighed. “What’s going on? I’m just on date night with the girlfriend…Why are you calling me from a private number?”

“You never answer when I call from my phone,” he said.

That was true. He had me there.

“I’m a busy guy, Jonah. Can I help you with something or can I get back to my dinner? I have a very beautiful woman sitting across the table from me.”

Susan brushed her blonde bangs out of her face and smiled.

“I was just calling to let you know that I’m not mad at you for stealing the Hipster story anymore,” Jonah said, through the phone. “After tonight I’ll have my own headline story and I’ll be famous just like you. We’ll be equals, you and I.”

“What headline story?” I asked, pulling my eyes of Susan.

“Axel Industries is dumping drums of radiation waste from Fukushima into the pacific ocean.”

He officially had my attention.

“Okay, you got me,” I said. “Tell me more.”

“I looked into their books and I saw a high deposits from a toy company in Japan called ToTo Enterprise. It struck me as odd that Axel Industries would have a Japanese toy company on their client list…you know, reporter’s instinct.”

“So? What’s your point?”

“So I looked into it further and To To Enterprise is owned by Eiji Zao, brother of Akira Zao–a head adviser on the Fukushima Nuclear Clean-Up committee. Akira has been paying Axel Industries to help dispose of nuclear waste from the 2011 meltdown and using To To Enterprise as a dummy company to launder the money.”

“Can you prove any of this?”

“I have all my sources and documents on a USB Stick in my inside pocket,” Jonah replied. “And after tonight I’ll have video. I followed the dump trucks to the docks. They’re starting to load the boats as we speak and I’m going to get it all on film.”

Jonah was right. This was a huge fucking story.

A big black cock of a story.

It was a chance to catch that son-of-a-bitch Axel Benjamin red handed and finally put him away for good, locked up in a cell with his old bodyguard Jeremy Stands, a.k.a. The Hooded Killer.

“Where are you right now?” I asked.

I wrote the address he gave me on a napkin and hung up the phone.

“What was that all about?” asked Susan.

I signaled the waiter for the bill, “I gotta go.”

“Go? What? Why?” she said as the waiter came over. I slapped a few twenties on his tray hurriedly.

“Big story,” I said. “Huge story.”

Susan was starting to get annoyed, “Can you please slow down and talk to me? What’s going on, Jake?”

I dropped my napkin on my half eaten salmon and got up from my seat, “Axel Industries has been dumping nuclear waste from Fukushima off the shores of Vancouver.”

She put her hand over her mouth, “Oh my god…Go. You have to go.”

But I was already out of my seat and on my way.

*******************************************

I met Jonah at the docks at the address he had given me. I parked a few blocks down the road so as not to have my civic spotted. When I got there I saw him fiddling with the zoom lens on his camera that he had attached to a small tripod  facing three bright lights over the water in the distance.He smiled wide as he saw me approach.

“Here,” he said, tilting the camera in my direction, “Take a look.”

I looked into the lens and saw the boats he was talking about. They were filled with oil drums, the last of which were being brought on by a dolly by some large men dressed in black.

“And you’re for sure that’s nuclear waste in those drums?” I asked, tilting the camera back to him.

“How could it not be? The deposits from ToTo Enterprise, the relationship of the Zao brothers…All the pieces fit! It has to be nuclear waste!”

“Sssh!” I scolded, “Will you shut up? They’ll hear us.”

Then from behind me I hard a man say, “Too late.” And before I could blink, Jonah fell to the floor, knocked out from a blow to the head. I spun around to see one of the boatmen who had been loading the oil drums pointing a gun at me, showing his crooked teeth as he smiled.

“You fucked up,” he said.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” I told him.

From behind him came a high pitched whistle, followed immediately by a deep rumble like that of a sub-woofer in a night club. Then, a flash of blinding light appeared and before my attacker could turn around to see what was going on, a powerful sonic beam from the Watchman’s wrist blasters ripped him from where he stood and launched him over the railing, twenty feet into the ocean as if he were a rag doll. I had seen those sonic blasters at work the night the Watchman took on the Hipster’s goons and I was pretty certain that guy wasn’t going to be swimming back to surface anytime soon.

“I saw you coming up behind him,” I told the Watchman as he stood there in his shoulder-spiked leather jacket, his black bandanna blowing softly in the night breeze, “You’re getting sloppy in your old age. Happy birthday, Stewie.”

The Watchman switched off his orbs and the night became quiet once again, with the exception of the waves under us softly crashing as the tide rolled in and out. “Don’t call me that,” he said. “Not if your fond of your face.”

In the distance I could see more boatmen running up the docks toward us, armed with guns. If they hadn’t heard the sonic boom or the screams, they definitely saw the light show. Those sonic blasters Axel Benjamin gave to him lit up the sky like fucking fireworks. I pointed down the dock at them and said, “I don’t think we’re out of the woods yet!”

“What are we dealing with?” asked the Watchman.

“You don’t wanna know,” I said.

He turned his head to me, “Really? We’ve fought a Hooded Killer murdering the homeless and a Hipster who tried to give the Conservative Party cancer…How bad could this be?”

“Axel’s dumping nuclear waste from Fukushima in our waters!”

The Watchman turned back to the oncoming boatmen. “Shit…That’s bad. Take your friend and get out of here…I’ll take care of these guys.”

I didn’t ask questions. I threw Jonah over my shoulder and took off up the dock as fast as I could. Behind me I could hear the chaos of sonic booms and bullets crackling like fireworks. We made it back out onto the main street and, when I felt we were safe, I let Jonah off from my shoulder and laid him flat on the ground. I reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out the USB stick he was telling me about on the phone.

I felt bad that I was about to swindle the kid out of another story, but I had to. Call it a personal vendetta, call it revenge, call it whatever–I had to be the one that brought down Axel Benjamin. I had to be the one who showed the world what kind of a monster he really was. Not for the fame or the money, but so that I could look him dead in the eye as they walk him into court and say, “I got you, you slick fuck!”

So, regrettably, I left Jonah there and I went back home to check the files. It took me about two hours of sifting through documents, account transfers and shit like that, but I got through it. There was enough to make a case, but it wouldn’t be a rock solid one. I was kicking myself in the ass for not grabbing Jonah’s camera when I grabbed him. The video footage would have been a big help.

Then, as if some fairy godmother had heard my calls, there was a tapping on my window next to the fire escape. I jumped up from my seat and rushed over, expecting to see the Watchman…but he was no where to be seen. There, tied to the railing by the neck strap, in all its glory, was Jonah’s camera.

The next day I got to the Sun Tower early to unload what I, or Jonah rather, had discovered to Mr.Dennis. Between the pictures, the account transfers and the relationship of the Zao brothers, I thought we had an air tight story. So, when the Chief shut the story down without a thought, I lost it on him. “What do you mean you won’t run it?” I yelled. “This story is mega. He’s poisoning our shores with nuclear fallout!”

“When are you going to learn this, kid? There are powers greater than you and I at work here. I admire you running around with your ‘save the world’ hat on, high off your first big story and ready to get all Lois Lane, hero of the press sorta thing–but stop it, right fucking now, you understand? I’m warning you. If you keep knocking on the devils door, eventually someone is going to answer.”

“People deserve to know!” I argued.

“Yeah, maybe they do, Jake,” he said. “You don’t think that I have had a thousand scientists, biologists, geologists and every other fucking “ologist” come into my office and sit where your sitting right now, telling me the same fucking thing that’s coming out of your mouth this very moment?”

I threw my hands in the air, “So then, why aren’t you running this?”

Mr.Dennis sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Because, Jake,” He said. ” People may deserve to know, but people don’t want to know. People don’t want to know that the ocean life in the Pacific is coming to a screeching extinction. People don’t want to know why they aren’t allowed to swim in the ocean; they know it’s bad but they don’t want to know how bad. They don’t want all the bloody details, they just want to stare at it on a sunny day and say, ‘Aw, look at that. That’s pretty.’

‘People don’t want to know about the things they can’t see. They want to pretend everything is fine the way it is. Because if they didn’t, that means they would have to change and let me tell you something about the human race, Jake—we don’t like to change! And even if we did, even if we did, my bosses don’t want things to change because if they did, there pockets would get a whole lot thinner. The world is a tragic mess, son. But not you, nor I, have the ammunition in our corner to do anything about it.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Chief,” I said. “I think we do have the ammunition!”

He threw his head back, “What? The Watchman? Your little super-hero buddy? Shit, kid, he sells papers, I will give you that. But he’s just one man.”

Tired of arguing, I put him to an ultimatum, “You either run this story, or I put it on the net.”

“You will most definitely not!” He shouted as he slammed his fist down on his desk. “You are under contract with the Sun. You break your contract, you are out on the street!”

“I’ll save you the trouble,” I said. “I quit!” And then I slammed the door behind me as I walked out of his office.

At that moment Diana was just coming to her desk to start work. She smiled when she saw me…until she saw me. And the look on my face.

“What happened?” she asked.

I told her what happened. She was baffled. At me.

“This is your job,” she said. “Are you really going to throw everything away for a story? A story your not even totally sure is true?”

“It’s done,” I said. “There’s no going back.”

She grabbed my wrist as I started to walk away, “Please, Jake. Don’t do this…”

It was hard to do, walk away from Diana like that. She really meant a lot to me and, though she would never admit it publicly, I knew she had a soft spot for me too. But there were bigger things at work here than just me and D. I had to go.

I squeezed her hand and smiled, “Take care of yourself, okay? Stay out of trouble.”

On my way out of the front lobby I bumped into Jonah on his way in. Luckily I had brought his camera with me that morning. I pulled it from my work bag and reached out to hand it to him. He ripped it from my hands, pointed his finger in my face and yelled, “Where’s my USB stick?! Where?!” Then, to my surprise, he shoved me. Which might have upset me if he wasn’t so tiny, nerdy and cute.

I pulled the flash drive out of my pocket and handed it to him. “Mr.Dennis won’t run it, I just came from there. It’s a no-go, Jonah.”

“I knew it!” He hollered, “You tried to steal my story…again! You’ve crossed the line this time, Jake!”

Between all that had just taken place, I didn’t have much sympathy left for this kid. I had let him blow off some steam and even let him get away with a shove, but I had reached my quota. I pushed him aside and walked out to the street.

He called out to me as I walked, “You’ll pay, Jake Dunlop! Mark my words, I shall have my revenge!”

I could not believe this guy was still yelling. I put on my headphones and continued on my way. There wasn’t a moment to waste. After all…I had an article to write.

When I got home I made myself a WordPress account and started putting things together. I had given Jonah back the USB stick with all the information exposing Axel Industries, but not before I made copies of everything on my home computer. By dinner time that evening the article was ready for print. I called the article, “Toxic Times by Jake Dunlop” and I shared it through my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I had recently gained over a hundred thousand followers after ‘The Watchman Returns’ article was published. I called them the Watchman Watchers. They were the same guys who would share picture posts of sightings at #WatchTheWatchman, which usually just turned out to be blurry shots of some regular Joe Blow in a leather jacket. A few were legit though. And I would know, if anyone. I was practically his agent.

I hit publish at 6:20 pm. By 9pm, I had broken the internet.  The article had gone viral through the re-tweets of the Watchman Watchers, who triggered the liberal environmentalists, who seemed to really get on the “Fuck Axel” bandwagon with me. The article surfed its way around the net, even being shared by people who posted it to complain about how much other people were posting it. i didn’t mind. Whatever their reasons, it was making noise.

The next morning, after a seemingly victorious night, Susan came over for an early lunch. We sat on my couch and I turned on my television. The 11 o’clock news with Audrey Mason was on and take a guess who she had on as her guest. Yup. Axel Benjamin. They smiled back and forth at each other as I listened to them crucify me on live TV.

“…It just really seems like a desperate act for attention,” said Audrey. “So then, what were the money transfers from ToTo Enterprises for if not for an under-the-table kickback for dumping toxic waste in our waters?”

Axel smiled, “Yes. An “under-the-table” kick back that was completely on the books. These documents that were stolen from my possession are merely tax documents. My relationship with ToTo Enterprise and Eiji Zao has nothing to do with Akira Zao, nor the efforts to clean up the tragedy of Fukushima. Axel Industries produces a synthetic plastic for an action figure in Japan that is able to stretch and retract. It’s a very popular item–Mr.Action, I believe his name is.”

An image of a stretchy Mr.Action doll in its plastic casing appeared on screen. I felt a nervous feeling come over me. Was that possible? I never even investigated if he had any products being shipped…I didn’t really investigate at all. I was so consumed with hatred for Axel that I went on entirely what Jonah had come up with. But…Jonah was a tool… What if he was wrong?

“If you’re just joining us right now, we’re talking about “Toxic Times”, an article released on the internet last night by Jake Dunlop, who is most known locally for his sensationalist articles in the Sun about the Vancouver super-hero, the Watchman. Dunlop was recently let go from the Sun for undisclosed reasons. Editor, Paul Dennis has no comment on the matter but sources say that Dunlop had become angry and aggressive leading up to being fired from the publication. His article lashes out at Axel Industries, claiming they are responsible for dumping toxic waste off the Vancouver shores but carried no proof except vague transfer receipts and blurry photos. As his credibility diminishes, it seems this fly by night sensation may be nearing the end of his fifteen minutes…”

I clicked it off and tossed the remote aside. “Wow. I was not expecting that.”

“That was a massacre,” said Susan. “Even I kind of resent you right now.”

I shook my head, “Even I kind of resent me right now…Is it possible I was so blinded with anger that I just assumed everything Jonah had prepared was true without fact checking?”

She put her arm around me and gave me a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “Be strong, babe,” she said. “Your hearts in the right place…Fuck Audrey Mason.”

I smiled, saying, “Yeah…fuck that bitch.” Then I got up and started to bring our plates into the kitchen. I turned on the tap and called back to her over the running water, “What will this mean for you at PharmCorp? Does Axel know you and I are dating? I’m not going to get you fired, am I?”

“I don’t see why he would,” she called back. “The most he could do is pull his funding, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon. He’s been pumping all kinds of money into new trial drugs since the incident with the Hipster at Pacific Rim. He’s trying to recreate the Rejuvicell serum, I know it. I recognize the compounds in the data reports….” Then she went quiet. She came back a moment later, saying, “Babe, your phone is vibrating! It’s says ‘Johnny-Cambie’…whose that?”

I turned off the tap and ran back into the room. I hadn’t talked to Johnny in a while being that I hadn’t felt the need to smoke weed since me and Susan started dating, but if he was calling, it probably was for good reason. He wasn’t the type to call you just to say, “Hey, how’s your day going?”

I took the phone out of Susan’s palm and answered it, “Hey, Johnny. What’s up? How’s your day going?”

He was in a panic, “Jake! Fuck! Holy fuck! Jake! You gotta get down here! You gotta report this shit!”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“It’s fucked!” He screamed. “Totally fucked! A monster just walked out of the water at English Bay, man! A big fucking green, fucking lizard monster, man! It’s going after people! It’s–It’s killing them! Eating them! Get the fuck over here, man! Bring the Watchman! Stat!”

He was talking so fast, it was hard to understand him. “What?” I said. “Johnny, slow down I–”

But it was too late. Johnny had already hung up.

I leaped from the couch and went for my coat hanging on a chair in the kitchen. Susan swung her head around and yelled, “What was that? Where are you going?”

I told her as I threw on my coat, “Apparently there’s a monster terrorizing English Bay right now…it killed some people. I have to go.”

She raised her eyebrows in protest, “Are you crazy? There’s a monster killing people at English Bay and you have to go? Did you just hear yourself?”

We didn’t fight often, but when we did, it was in the tone in which she was speaking

“It’s my job, babe” I said, calmly trying to diffuse her.

She rebutted quickly with, “You quit, remember? It’s not your job anymore.”

I started for the door, “Okay then, fuck it! It’s because those people need me! The Watchman will be there and I’m going to have his back whether you like it or not!” Then I left, shutting the door hard and loud so she knew I was finished arguing.

I walked down the hallway. By the time I got to the elevator, Susan was coming out of the apartment with her jacket half on and the set of keys I had given her in her hand. “Where are you going?” I asked.

She locked the door to the apartment and started towards me, throwing on the other side of her jacket. “I’m coming with you,” she said.

I put up my hand, objecting. “No, it’s too dangerous,” I replied.

But it was no use trying to argue. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “Get over it.”

****************************

As we drove down Robson towards English Bay, we began to hear the screams of the men and women fleeing the beach strip. Before long they came into view, taring down the sidewalks with a look of terror in their eyes that would make even the bravest of men think twice about where he was heading. I could see Susan was shook. I was too.

We pulled up beside the laughing statues and that is when I first got a glimpse of the damage to the Bay. In the distance, a hundred or so feet out into the ocean, an oil tanker was slowly sinking beneath the surface. The muddy sand where the tide would roll in was dug out and thrown into mounds like someone had been digging for gold. By them, four dead bodies were tossed scattered on the beach, completely torn open around the stomach area…one of them was a little girl. I felt sick to my stomach. It was an utter massacre.

Then…I saw it. Well, no not really, first I heard it. It made a deafening call, like a hawks caw, but toned lower like an elephants trunk when it blows. That’s the best way I can explain it, but I can tell you this—it scared the shit out of everyone who was unlucky enough to hear it. Sarah gasped and squeezed my hand. That’s when I turned and saw it….

What a fucking Freak this thing was.

It was something between a man and a lizard; walking upright on two feet but covered in a green, slimy, scaly exterior. A long tail swung behind the creature like a whip, and his yellow eyes, like that of a python, glared hungrily from left to right across the beach. The side of its mouth was stained a shade of rust from the blood of his victims and he was looking thirsty for more.Whenever the monster hissed, its gaping, black hole of a mouth peeled back and showed off his fangs and his fleshy gums. I froze as he turned in our direction. It looked me right in the eye and hissed. Then it stomped his massive, three-toed flipper-foot into the dirt and lowered its head, preparing to charge.

At the same time, a high pitched squeal was rapidly getting louder behind me. Though I was too paralyzed with fear to move, I recognized the sound. It was a dirt bike and it was ripping closer fast! In seconds, I watched the dirt bike blow by me with a thunderous roar, blowing dirt and sand behind it was it sped down English Bay. As I had somewhat suspected, it was the Watchman at the helm.

He drove with one hand as the other lit up with a flash of light and fired a sonic blast that knocked the Freak off balance. When the creature got back to his feet it did not look happy. The monster charged towards the oncoming dirt bike like it was playing some sort of twisted game of chicken. The Watchman didn’t change course, instead he accelerated and seconds before they crashed he leaped from the bike, using the vehicle as a projectile. But this time, The Freak was ready. He swatted away the dirt bike and it flung to the side as if it were made of paper. I couldn’t believe how strong this thing was. Even the Watchman looked stunned.

Susan grabbed me by the arm, pulling me out of my trance. “Come on!” she screamed. “Let’s go!”

“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t leave the Watchman.”

“Why?!” She cried. “Why do you care so much about him?! I’m your girlfriend! He’s a complete stranger!”

And that’s when I said it. It just kind of slipped out. “He’s your father, Susan!”

She let go of my arm and took a step back, “What are you talking about? What do you mean he’s my father?”

As my attention split between Susan and the battle taking place behind me, I told her, “Your father didn’t die in the fire at PharmCorp. He injected himself with the Rejuvicell just in time. It saved his life, but the burns left him disfigured…He didn’t want you to know because he wanted you to remember him how he was…not how he is…but that’s him out there, Susan. The Watchman is your father.”

She looked the other way and wiped the tears away from her eyes. Believe me, this wasn’t how I wanted her to find out about it—but there was no more time for lies. At that very moment, on the sands of English Bay, the Watchman was losing the battle. His sonic blasts were doing damage when he could get them off but the Freak was as agile as he was powerful and would slither out of the beams way just before they hit. On top of the monsters evasive defense, its massive claws would send the Watchman crashing to the ground each time they connected. Even with his powers of fast healing, he was getting cut bad and losing a lot of blood. Each time he fell, the longer it took for him to get back up. I could see he was exhausted. This wasn’t like fighting the Hooded Killer or the Hipster–or any human at all for that matter. The Freak was twice his size, built like a brick wall and, most importantly, a fucking man-lizard!

Then I watched in horror as the Freak grabbed the Watchman and squeezed his head between its claws. His skull folded and bent like an aluminum can and he dropped to the ground with a thud…dead. Susan shrieked and looked away, sobbing. I don’t know why or what I was thinking but I started charging at the monster in a blind rage. Maybe I was too angry to think about death…or maybe death didn’t matter, but I lunged at the monster in an attempt to put my arm around his neck and choke the son-of-a-bitch. The monster swung his arm and it hit me like a tree log. Everything went black for a second and when I came to, moments later, the Freak was a good ten feet away from me and my face was bleeding pretty bad. He threw me like a pillow without blinking. My head throbbing, I felt Susan shaking at my arm.

“Wake up! Jake, wake up!” She cried, pulling harder. I got to my feet and we started running. I was dizzy as fuck from the hit, I could barely see anything, so I followed the sound of Susan’s feet pounding against the asphalt and kept telling myself not to pass out. I couldn’t give up now. The Watchman was dead…and we were all alone.

TO BE CONTINUED!!!

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The final episode of THE HASTINGS WATCHMAN will conclude NEXT MONTH in THE HASTINGS WATCHMAN 4: IN THE SHADOW OF HEROES. See you then and thanks for reading!!!

 

 

 

 

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