Watchers

Chapter 6: One of the Few

Daniel feels a sense of restlessness that he has not had time for since he switched from pills to the hard stuff. The group of people in this large common room don't seem to have a lot of purpose in the limbo hours between dinner and bedtime, and it makes him uncomfortable. All his life, Daniel has had things to do, or things to run away from, and for the first time there's nothing to do but wait.

He supposes that he's waiting for his strength to return, or his willpower to go home and face his father, or maybe just for it to get dark enough outside for him to sleep.

In the meantime, he walks slowly through the room, observing his fellow shelter residents. They're the expected crowd, elderly, impoverished, addicts, battered women, a few children... they all just want a hot meal and a warm place to sleep.

The only difference between this group and any other shelter that Daniel has ever seen on television or visited with his father is the fact that all of these people are so clean. Their Haven-issued clothes aren't new, but none of them are tattered or moth-eaten, and no one has that sour milk smell that seems inevitable among the homeless population.

Most of them are sitting or standing, making small talk and discussing the tasks they'll be doing tomorrow to keep the shelter running smoothly. Laundry. Meal preparation. Tending the winter garden.

Daniel recognizes the old man who had been sitting next to him at dinner. He's shuffling through the crowd with some effort, as if he is winding down through the last steps that this life has allotted him. He passes Daniel but does not acknowledge him, and he's muttering to himself, "There was a world once."

He says it again and again, and it seems that he's done with his dinnertime catchphrase and has moved on to this one. Daniel wonders just how addled his mind is and what drug or mental illness has ravaged him.

Daniel also sees the two women he ate with - Sasha and Jane. They are sitting together on a single cot pushed up against the wall, talking quietly. Daniel got the impression at dinner that they must be old friends, and he wonders if they would mind a third Musketeer joining their little group. It seems like they've got their wits about them and Jane appears to be knowledgeable about the shelter, so he thinks they might be able to help him orient himself.

He gets only about halfway to them when the door at the other end of the room opens and everyone goes suddenly still and attentive. They all turn toward the door like meerkats facing the sun, so Daniel does the same.

A lanky man in black robes and a clerical collar comes into the room, followed by a pair of nuns. He puts both hands up as if he is preaching to his congregation.

"Good evening, my children," he says, then puts his hands down and adopts a friendly affect. This must be the patriarch of the Haven of Salvation. He says with a smile, "I'm just dropping in to see how everyone's doing tonight. Sisters Mary and Therese and I will lead prayers for anyone in need of comfort."

People start to move toward him immediately - he's obviously well-liked - and Daniel stands still to observe. He notices that Jane has risen from the cot and is moving toward the priest, while Sasha stands but does not move. She looks about as lost in this spiritual moment as Daniel feels.

The priest walks around the room, giving blessings and sharing in prayers, and then he sees Daniel. He smiles a little more broadly and walks with purpose toward him. Daniel spares another glance toward Sasha, who is watching with one eyebrow cocked.

When he comes to a stop in front of Daniel, all eyes on the two of them, the priest extends his hand.

"I'm Father Gary," he says in a loud, gregarious voice. Daniel takes his hand and Father Gary has a firm, almost crushing grip. Daniel is still weak from withdrawal and malnourishment, but he does his best to rally and return the handshake with strength as the priest says, "I believe I recognize you."

"You do?" Daniel asks, although he isn't surprised. A lot of people know him, or at least they used to.

He doesn't look much like his former self these days, and he wasn't expecting to be recognized here - not in his current state - but it's no shock when Father Gary says, "You're the son of that Senator, aren't you? The one who lived."

He releases Daniel's hand and says a little quieter, so only the closest people standing around them can hear, "Or am I mistaken?"

"No," Daniel says reluctantly. "You're right."

"We have a celebrity in our midst," Father Gary booms to his congregants. "This is the son of Senator Moreland, one of the few survivors of the Capitol Hill Massacre."

Everyone turns their attention to Daniel and he doesn't like their eyes on him any more than he liked the increasingly vigilant eyes of the media and the cameras and the Watchers since the massacre. He wishes that this moment would pass, and even more so, he wishes for his anonymity. He already knows what will happen next - Father Gary will turn his attention elsewhere, but most of these people will remain fixated on Daniel. They'll have the same set of questions people always have for him, and an uncomfortable number of them will have to do with what he has between his legs. That was the only thing the media wanted to know after it learned that the senator's son used to be the senator's daughter, and he isn't in the mood to go through all of that again. Not now, not tonight.

Daniel sets his jaw and smiles, trying his best to be polite, and Father Gary puts his hand on top of Daniel's, giving it a little squeeze as he says, "Welcome to the Haven."

Then he moves on. Daniel glances again at Sasha, who seems to be the only person in the room who isn't looking at him with curiosity or pity.