Just then, he heard voices coming from the alley. He rushed to the building’s ledge. Two stories below were about a dozen people holding short candles. Their dirty, rag-like clothes were barely visible in the candlelight. Those not holding candles sat on the ground against the graffiti-stained wall. They all spoke in hushed tones, but Jaysynn heard a few things they said.
“He’s not coming. He hasn’t come for a week. We’re wasting our time,” a man said to a woman sitting next to him, presumably his wife.
She, on the other hand, refused to share his pessimism. “He’s probably been displaced by the Cataclysm, just like all of us.”
“Or he’s dead,” interjected another man.
Jaysynn smiled and stood to his full height. “No, he’s not!” he bellowed in a deeper voice.
The small crowd looked up in joyous shock. Those sitting instantly shot to their feet.
“It’s him! The Watchman!” a woman exclaimed.
“Yes,” replied Jaysynn, keeping his voice disguised, “I barely survived the Cataclysm myself, but I couldn’t forget my fellow Thyrians in their darkest hour.”
“Thank Elthor!” exclaimed another woman.
Jaysynn whipped off his backpack, laid it in front of himself, and bent down to unzip it. “I have medicine and food. What does everyone need?”
For the next twenty minutes, Jaysynn distributed his stash among the crowd by tossing it down to them. The medicine was first. He had painkillers and first-aid kits. The former were given to a mother for her injured son, a man for his headache-plagued wife, and an old woman with arthritis. The bread was divided evenly among them all.
Once his backpack was empty, the people rushed out of the alley with smiles on their faces. A young mother declared that she would tell her sons that their favorite hero, the Watchman, had returned and given them these gifts.
Jaysynn smiled under the cover of his hood. These seem like such small gestures, but sometimes the smallest acts have the biggest impact.
The alley appeared to be clear, so Jaysynn put his backpack on. Now to get to the Hall of Records. He turned to start running.
“Hey, stranger!” called a familiar woman’s voice.
Jaysynn froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Kyrie?” he blurted. He looked down in the alley.
Rounding the corner was a young blonde woman wearing jeans and a green blouse. She looked at him with wide blue eyes, grinning.
“Kyrie!” exclaimed Jaysynn.
“In the flesh.”
Jaysynn jumped over the wall, gripping the edge, and dropped to the ground below. He reflexively pulled his hood over his face. Kyrie walked toward him, but he gestured for her to stay a few feet away.
“I…I was worried you were, well, dead since I hadn’t heard from you since the Cataclysm,” said Jaysynn.
“My family and I barely survived. We’d moved out here a few weeks ago to stay with family. Thank Elthor we did. I’ve heard our old neighborhood was leveled in the blast.”
“I’m glad to hear everyone is okay.”
“I’m glad you’re alive. People thought I was crazy for thinking you survived, but I knew better. I knew there was no way you’d let yourself get killed.”
Jaysynn was glad it was dark because it hid his blush. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You know, my dad still thinks you’re an urban legend. I’ve been telling him for three years that I got my job as a baker because of you, but he doesn’t believe me. He says I have too active of an imagination. I’m sure he thinks I have a crush on you like half of my girlfriends. Of course, you helped them, too.”
“I help everyone.”
“I know, and we’re all grateful.”
“So, what will you and your family do now?”
Kyrie hung her head. “There’s nothing for us here now, so we’re going to leave. There’s a man—a smuggler with an incredible bus that somehow runs on steam. He’s agreed to drive us out of the city and take us somewhere safe.”
“I’m not sure anywhere is safe,” replied Jaysynn, the disguise eroding in his voice. “There’s nothing the Cataclysm hasn’t touched, it seems.”
“Maybe, but anywhere is better than here. Many people can’t find a way to leave. We were lucky. This man is an old friend of my dad. I think they were Army buddies.”
Jaysynn bowed his head briefly. “Then may Elthor make your paths straight.” He turned to run.
“Wait!” called Kyrie.
Jaysynn stopped and peered over his shoulder.
“You could come with us,” she said.
Jaysynn shook his head. “I have too much work to still do here.”
Kyrie wilted. “I understand.”
Jaysynn looked away, but before he could make a stride, she asked him another question.
“Before you go, could I…could I see your face?”
Jaysynn hung his head. I wish I could, but that’s too much of a risk. If anyone found out I was the Watchman…
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Kyrie sighed, but it sounded like a thinly veiled sob. “I just…wanted to know who my family and I owed our lives to. So much has changed for us—so much has changed for me, especially in the last week. You’re…the only one I thought would believe us.”
Jaysynn huffed quietly. It sounds like she really needs someone to talk to, but I don’t have time. I need to finish my investigation quickly. Dawn will come soon, and the people will need their Emperor.
“I don’t blame you for wanting to confide in me, but….” He paused to take a deep breath. “I need to go. I have urgent business at the Hall of Records.”
“Goodbye,” she said, her tone indicating she did not know what else to say.
“Farewell.”
With that, he climbed a service ladder to the roof and began his long run to the Hall of Records, although it was with a heavy heart.
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