The Watchers by Wendy Reakes

before he started selling off his land piece by piece. But now, with the police about to descend on him, he knew he had no choice but to make a dash for it, taking little Sarah with him.
    It was lucky he had been in the barn when the police had crept up the lane in their squad car towards the farmhouse. They had even dimmed their lights. He had to chuckle. They’d have to get up earlier than that if they wanted to catch out ol’ Ted Barrow.
    Before they got closer, he had taken Sarah's hand and pulled her through the back entrance of the barn and into the field beyond. Despite his age, he found strength in his limbs to pull her along, trundling over rough dark meadows. He had to stop when they were confronted by a hedge of knotted brambles, but Ted knew there was a wooden stye within the thicket somewhere.
    He found it.
    He moved some of the foliage and uncovered a wooden step, telling Sarah to climb over. And as he followed, stepping through the hedge to the other side, there was another open field with a small babbling brook at its side.
    Sarah was whimpering as he pulled her down the embankment, and as his feet splashed into the cold water, he pulled her along, until the water covered her soiled white socks up to her scratched and bruised knees.
    Ted was panting as he splashed his way along the tiny stream and even though he knew there wasn’t much further to go, he suddenly gave up as his energy became so cruelly spent.
    It saddened him, the revelation of being unable to take her to the place where she would be safe. He had only wanted a few more days with her. Just a few more days!
    He stopped and stepped out of the cold water, falling against the rough grass verge, realising he couldn't go on. He dragged Sarah down next to him and as she struggled, he pushed her face away, so he didn't have to look into her eyes. He pulled a plastic bag from his coat pocket. With a pain in his heart, he swiftly covered her head and secured the opening around her neck so that no air could enter to give her life. She was kicking and squirming until her small limbs gradually flailed. Within seconds, her arms went limp as she finally gave up the fight.
    Ted saw their reflection in the babbling brook. It was no surprise. He had already sensed they were there long before then. They were giving him instructions. He had no choice but to lay Sarah’s head gently against the soil on the grassy bank.
    Then he stood up to face them.
    The watchers were waiting on both sides of the stream as the water ran through the centre of their circle like a silver arrow. Ted walked into the middle, listening to their words, unable to disobey and as he waded he watched the water cover his legs to his knees.
    The Angels closed in. They were formidable, yet they were fluid and graceful, and as they neared him, cutting through the water with purposeful strides, they embraced him within the folds of their wings until Ted Barrow knew no more.
     
    They crushed hi m until the remnants of his old, tired body dropped away in a cloud of dust to the water beneath their feet. His ashes floated along the stream in a darkened frenzy, where the water caressed the earth and swallowed him under its gushing tide.
    Uriel moved to the side of the bank as his brothers waited. He stooped down and picked up the child, Sarah, into his strong, gentle arms. He took the bag from her head and rolled it into a tiny ball within his clenched fist until there was nothing left of it to litter the land. He locked his powerful lips to hers, so soft and yielding, and then he breathed gently into her mouth, slackened in near death.
    She did not stir, but he could feel her tiny heart beating under her sodden clothes. Uriel lifted her up and carried her back to the place they called home; to Caer Sidi.
    And as the earth around them settled back to its natural calm, one more sound in the distance broke the silence of the night. It was the sound of Ted Barrow’s one hundred pigeons, taking flight