The Civilian Watch

            Nick Sydow was in his civilian clothes. After his suspension, they had de-prioritized the results of his test. Despite this, he felt fairly confident that they had come back negative, given that he had been allowed to return to his home.

            He lived with two old friends, Julia and Marcus. Julia was a writer, and Marcus a teacher. The tests had only just started for the civilian population, and while Julia was fairly unworried, Nick had needed to reassure Marcus on a regular basis.

            “How much blood do they take?” Marcus would ask on multiple occasions.

            “Like three milliliters.”

            He had still heard nothing about Ana. He’d tried to contact Karin, but since the incident, she had moved back to Port Sang. Nick had been surprised at this abandonment. The two had not been together very long, but Karin seemed to have dropped any feelings she had for Ana the moment she heard the news.

            Nick had a few people on his side, even if he sometimes wondered if they were merely humoring him. Humor or not, though, Nick was certain that Ana was the same woman she had always been, and whatever her physical state, she was a loyal and upstanding citizen.

            Nick walked home from the store with two bags of groceries. They said it was spring, but the days were still quite short, and with the dense clouds overhead, the streetlights were a necessity.

            There was that guy again. He was a little chubby, with a puffy face that was in desperate need of a beard. In fact, the man seemed to affect a clean-cut look that seemed incongruous with his nervous shifting and bored expression. The effect was a disconcerting creepiness.

            He had been there when Nick first went out, and that was nearly an hour earlier. Nick approached him.

            “Hey, man,” he said.

            The man jumped with shock and his hand shot to what Nick could clearly see was a concealed weapon. However, when the man saw who had spoken, he relaxed slightly. “Evening,” he said.

            “Been out here a while, I see. I’m Nick, I live just down the road there,” said Nick. The man followed his gesture and nodded. There was an awkward silence as Nick waited for a response. Getting none, he said “You looking for a house or something?”

            “Oh, no. I’m just doing my patrol.”

            Nick furrowed his brow. “You’re part of that new Civilian Watch?”

            “That’s right. Just doing my part.”

            “Well,” said Nick. “Take it from a beat cop, you want to keep walking around. Stand on this corner and you’re just going to get frozen.”

            “You’re a cop?” said the man, visibly relaxing.

            “Yep. Sergeant Nick Sydow.”

            “Cory Inman,” said the man. He shook Nick’s hand.

            “So, they tested you yet?” asked Nick.

            “Yep. Living human, hundred percent.”

            Nick nodded. That this guy would have his results already, but he did not, was a little disconcerting.

            Nick put the groceries away but decided it was too dark inside, and went out for an additional walk. Cory Inman was still out there, still looking like the exact wrong person to be walking the streets with a gun. Nick could see in his mind’s eye some news headline of a dead teenager and this idiot’s face in a bewildered mug shot next to it.

            Nick got a few blocks toward Glass Lake Circle when he heard sirens. An enforcement car barreled down the road. It looked like Balgar’s.

            Nick followed after it, and in a few minutes, he found where the car had parked. Balgar and Monhansen were outside of a house, and a whole bunch of what he assumed were civilian watch people were standing outside, along with that Bergen woman and the great big bone-construct, Mraxinar.

            Monhansen pounded on the door. “Mr. Nerring, this is Lieutenant Monhansen of the PJED. Please open the door now!”

            The man Nick assumed to be Mr. Nerring shouted something from inside, but it was too muffled to be heard from a distance.

            There was a lot of discussion going on among the Watch. Balgar was on the horn, but clearly keeping a close eye on the civilians. Nick approached him.

            “Balgar,” opened Nick.

            “Sydow, hey,” said Balgar, clearly distracted.

            “What’s this?”

            “Uh… this guy’s refusing to take the test.”

            “Uh huh.”

            “Hey, listen Sydow, could you keep an eye on these jokers? They look like they’re about to break out the pitchforks and torches.”

            “Ok.”

            Nick walked up to the crowd, which was gathered around Captain Bergen. There was a palpable sense of panic among them, and only Bergen seemed calm, reading the list she had in a clipboard. Mraxinar was standing off to the side, very still.

            “Hi, I’m Sergeant Sydow,” he said.

            “Currently under suspension,” replied Captain Bergen. She spat these words out without a moment of hesitation. Nick took a moment to gather his thoughts again.

            “Yes, that’s true. May I ask what the Watch is doing here?”

            “The Civilian Watch’s purpose is to safeguard the community. The man in there is resisting the test, so it stands to reason that we should be more cautious than usual.”

            “Your suspicions have been raised?”

            “Have yours not been? Oh, but I forgot, you don’t see the undead as a threat to our city.”

            “Captain Bergen, I think you are jumping to conclusions here.”

            Monhansen came back from the door. “Hey Nick,” she said when she saw him. “Ok,” now turning to Balgar. “I think we’re going to need a warrant.”

            “Hey!” came a shout from the house. It was Mr. Nerring. “Hey, you tell your people to stay away from my house!”

            Nick looked over, and indeed, one of the Watchmen had snuck around the back of the house, apparently trying to get in through a back door.

            “Come out, you draugr bastard!” shouted one of them.

            “Fuck you,” yelled back Mr. Nerring. The old man’s voice cracked as he did so. Mr. Nerring was only just five feet tall, and had a body that seemed tight and hunched. He was probably in his eighties.

            “Officers,” said Captain Bergen, insistently.

            “In a moment, Captain,” said Balgar, who was trying to listen to the radio in the car. “We’re getting a warrant from the courthouse as we speak.”

            “Warrant? This could be a draugr. We can’t just sit around here and wait.”

            More of the Watchmen were approaching the house. Nick was somewhat impressed by how gradually they had crept toward it, but now some of them were looking in the windows, tapping on the glass. Monhansen stepped forward. “Hey!” she yelled at the Watchmen. “Get away from there!”

            There was a collective shout as the back door of the house opened and little Mr. Nerring ran out.

            “Hey!” shouted Balgar. He dropped the radio receiver and gave chase. Mr. Nerring was hardly a competitive sprinter, but before Balgar could catch him, one of the Watchmen – this one a wiry man in his fifties with white hair, and with whom Nick shared a barber – tackled him.

            Mr. Nerring sprawled on the wet grass outside his home, yelping in pain.

            “There,” said Bergen. “Mraxinar?”

            Mraxinar scuttled toward the man, who was now quaking in fear. The bone construct opened his little bag and pulled out the metal web with the crystal. “If you’ll allow me, Mr. Nerring, I’m just going to place this on your head.”

            Nerring was too paralyzed by obvious fear to refuse, and so Mraxinar let the metal tines slide around the old man’s head. He gave the crystal on top a thoughtful look, and then removed it.

            “Thank you, Mr. Nerring,” said Mraxinar, and began to stand upright when Captain Bergen walked forward.

            “The blood test too,” she said.

            Mraxinar opened his jaw to speak. “I don’t think that will be…”

            “Do it,” she said.

            Mraxinar put the metal web back in his bag and removed a sterilized needle. “This will just sting a little,” he said to Mr. Nerring, who was staring, unblinkingly, into Mraxinar’s glowing eye sockets.

            Mraxinar examine the vial of blood and put it into his bag. The Watchmen had mostly moved on at this point, returning to their various patrols. When Mraxinar had taped the small wad of gauze to the man’s arm, he gave a friendly nod. “Thank you, Mr. Nerring. That is all we need.”

            Balgar helped the man to his feet.

            Captain Bergen checked her clipboard. “Right, next we have Kelly and Darrel Fitzwalter, two doors down. We’ll have to pick up the pace if we want to keep on schedule.”

            Mraxinar nodded and began to turn away.

            “Give him his result,” said Nick.

            Bergen turned back. “That is not our procedure.”

            Nick glanced at Mr. Nerring. He was still shaking, and the grass had stained his pants.

            “No,” said Nick. “You give him his result now.” Nick caught Balgar giving a glance to Monhansen. Yes, they knew he was dead serious.

            Mraxinar tilted his head. “The result is negative, Mr. Nerring. You are a perfectly normal, living human being.”

            Bergen glared at the bone construct. He returned her gaze. If Mraxinar’s expression was contrite, none of them could tell.

(Copyright Daniel Szolovits 2013)