Jack Cavanaugh - Death Watch

“I think so,” he whispered back.

“Into the microphone!” Dorian cried. “Speak into the microphone! ”

Sydney helped Hunz onto the sofa.

This is ridiculous, she thought. Whose idea was this in the first place? She was a heartbeat away from yelling at the crew to turn off the camera, turn off the lights, and if they didn’t, she would.

Seated, Hunz seemed to rally.

He reached for the microphone.

“My final observation—,” he said.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sydney whispered.

He gave her one of those looks—one of those bullheaded, testosterone-charged, male looks—that told her it was something he had to do.

“—is that behind the Death Watch there is cowardice. Everything about it reeks of cowardice. The slinking, chickenhearted, bullying strike-and-run tactics are all the evidence we need to evaluate the true character of whoever is behind Death Watch. I was taught that a true man could look friend or enemy in the eye. That he took responsibility for his actions. That his friends could count on him, and while his enemies may not agree with him, they knew where he stood.”

10:46 a.m.

“And so—”

With effort, Hunz stood. Sydney stood with him.

“—as I face the final minute of my life, I choose to stand and face whoever, or whatever, would strike me down and kill me. If there is any manhood in him, or them, I challenge them to come out of the shadows, stand like men, and show their faces.”

Hunz lowered his microphone.

He faced the camera resolutely.

Sydney! Say something! This is dead air. Say something!

Sydney pulled the earplug from her ear. It dangled on her shoulder. She could still hear the voices. They sounded far away.

She stood next to Hunz.

“Thirty seconds,” Dorian said behind the lights.

Hunz Vonner stood tall. There was no fear. No sign of regret. He didn’t tremble. He had the appearance of a man resolved to his fate.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Hunz. ”

Sydney wanted to say something, but the words weren’t there. She wanted’to tell him that over the last couple of days, she’d come to admire and respect him, that when she thought of him she’d remember him holding Stacy and the way she clung to his neck like he was her father, that the last few hours they spent together talking at the table had meant so much to her, that

“Ten seconds.”

But there wasn’t time. There was only time to say—

“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body,” she blurted.

Hunz turned to her. Their eyes met in silent communication.

“Five seconds.”

“Four.”

The verbal countdown made Sydney angry. This wasn’t a rocket launch. This was a man’s life!

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Hunz’s eyes closed.

No one breathed.

At Prentice Women’s Hospital, nurse Dora Evans turned away from the television to Cheryl.

“Do you really want her to see this?” Dora asked.

Stacy’s attention was diverted between coloring in her Wonder Woman coloring book and her friend Hunz—like the ketchup—on television.

Josh and Cheryl were both leaning forward as though the news would reach them sooner the closer they got to the television.

“Maybe you should,” Cheryl said, with a worried glance at Stacy. “Do you mind?”

“Child, I see people die every day. I don’t have to watch it on television.”

She scooped up Stacy.

“You like orange juicy, honey? Let’s go see if we can find you some.”

“Dora? Wait. .,” Cheryl said, her eyes fixed on the television screen.

The only sound in the hotel suite was the buzz of the lights. It was one of those moments when time slows and a dozen heartbeats squeeze into a single second.

Hunz was stiff, but upright. No buckling at the knees. No timber like a felled tree.

He opened his eyes.

Cheers went up from behind the lights.

Sydney didn’t join them.

She’d learned her lesson with Lyle Vandeveer. She looked at the hotel alarm clock.

10:47 a.m.

But was it accurate?

She waited.

Hunz didn’t move. Was he thinking of Lyle Vandeveer too?

Seconds ticked.

A trio of voices from behind the lights urged Hunz to say something.

He didn’t. Not for a while.

The voices in Sydney’s earpiece chattered against her shoulder. She ignored them.

10:48 a.m.

Hunz was still standing. Still alive.

He looked at Sydney and grinned.

Professionalism, take a hike. She threw her arms around him.

At Prentice Women’s Hospital, little Stacy jumped up and down on the bed clapping her hands, though she didn’t understand why everyone was happy. Cheryl and Josh hugged and laughed and cried. Nurse Dora brushed a few tears aside herself.

Sydney had no idea how long she’d clung to Hunz’s neck. She didn’t want to think about time right now. All she knew was that she hadn’t hugged him long enough.

Voices chattered in her earpiece. Sniffles could be heard behind the lights, presumably Joanna, but it could have been Dorian.

“We’re still on the air,” Hunz whispered, though he had a grip on Sydney equal to hers. “We’re on the air internationally.”

The letting go was awkward. Sydney found herself less than inches from the face of a man she’d known for less than two days—but she knew him, didn’t she? She knew him better than some men she’d known for years. Still, they’d never touched, not even an accidental brush of a hand, until now.

Her face warm, she stepped back.

Hunz made the quick transition from joyous and amused to his professional broadcaster demeanor. He addressed the camera.

“I’m alive!”

A grin cracked through his hardened professionalism for a moment, but was quickly repaired.

Sydney replaced her earpiece.

What’s going on here, Carol? Did he have the Death Watch or didn’t he?

Let’s hear what he has to say, Hal.

Hunz could hear the voices, too. He ignored them.

Sydney made no attempt to regain her professionalism. She was grinning like a joker, unable to do otherwise.

“I suppose an explanation is in order,” Hunz said into the camera. He took a deep breath. “Frankly, I’m still coming to terms with it myself, but… here I am. That’s something, isn’t it?

“Well, I can tell you this much: To the best of my knowledge, I’m the first man to beat the Death Watch. Good news, certainly, for I had pretty much concluded that my life on this earth had come to an end.”

He took another deep breath.

“The answer to the mystery behind the terror will surprise many, but not all. It did me. Even now, I find it difficult to believe that, for reasons I cannot explain, I would be the one to prove the solution true, let alone be the bearer of such momentous news. The bottom line is, as of today, no one need ever fear Death Watch again.

“And while I am the first to profit from the solution, the answer came from a source even more unlikely than me. Actually, my colleague, Sydney St. James, deserves credit, for it is she who interviewed the source behind the solution to Death Watch. She then passed the information to me.”

He nodded warmly in Sydney’s direction.

Another deep breath.

“The key to defeating the Death Watch,” he continued, “was delivered by a most unlikely messenger. A modern-day Elijah.”

Hunz described the events leading up to Billy Peppers’s plunge from the roof of the hotel. To Sydney’s surprise, he didn’t stop there. Knowing that his words were being broadcast literally around the world, translated into every major language, Hunz described Billy Peppers’s fiery translation with a beautiful and accurate description of the angels.