Payback by Graham Marks Page A

the object back on the bench and get on his way, when he felt something. It was as if what he was holding had…well, there was only one way to describe it: it was as though the object had woken up.
     
    Greg stared at the black glass oblong in his hand, noticing for the first time that there were no finger marks anywhere on it…and that it should’ve been reflecting his face, but wasn’t.
     
    Then, right there in front of him, he saw a small part of the surface at the end nearest to him sink inwards to create a perfectly circular dip. It was about the size of a 5p coin, and it just cried out to be touched.
     
    While Greg’s mind tried to work out what to do next, his hand had no doubts. He watched as it moved towards the device, as though his fingers were remote controlled. And it didn’t feel like his finger as it slowly, gently touched the dip in the polished black device.
     
    “Hello,” said a voice. “Good to meet you, Gregory…”

Chapter Three
    Greg jumped up, like he’d been stung by a wasp, and glanced behind him. But there was no one there.
     
    “Who?” he frowned. “Where?”
     
    “You called,” said the voice.
     
    Greg froze. The voice was coming from the-thing-that-wasn’t-a-phone, which he was still holding. He looked down at it to find that the black glass surface now looked like there was a drawing of an old-fashioned scythe etched into it.
     
    “Not me…I didn’t call anyone,” Greg said. “Who are you — and how do you know my name?”
     
    “I do apologise, how rude of me! I’m Michael, but as we are going to be working together, you can call me Mike.”
     
    “Working together?” Greg looked round to see if there was anyone who might’ve heard him shouting. There wasn’t. “What do you mean? I don’t want a job – I’m at school!”
     
    “Why don’t you have a sit down?”
     
    Mike’s voice was very clear, making Greg feel like he was actually standing right next to him. Confused, he did as he’d been asked and sat back down on the bench.
     
    “What’s going on?” Greg tried to put the phone down and realised he couldn’t. Because his arm wouldn’t move.
     
    “You’ve been chosen,” said Mike.
     
    “Who by? For what?”
     
    “Questions, questions!” Mike’s voice sounded like he was smiling. “You have been chosen by Fate, or quite possibly it might be Chance, although it may very well have been Luck. One or the other of those, anyway. And you have been chosen to be a Watcher.”
     
    “But I don’t want to be a Watcher, whatever that is!”
     
    “I’m afraid it’s not your decision, Greg. The person who had the job before you came to the end of his contract, so to speak – by which I mean he died – and the device was left here to see who would pick it up. You did. And so congratulations! The job is yours – unless, of course, someone else chooses to take it from you.”
     
    Greg opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say, so he closed it and slumped against the back of the bench. This was not how he’d planned to spend his Saturday afternoon, sitting on a park bench talking to someone who wasn’t there when he should be off with his mates having fun!
     
    “Don’t you want to know what you have to do?”
     
    “No!” Greg stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and glowered at the world. And then he sat up straight and slowly took his right hand out. It was no longer holding the phone!
     
    In a split second Greg was on his feet, tearing at his jacket which would not come off – no matter how hard he tried. He was about to have another go when he saw a woman with a buggy. She’d stopped a few metres down the path and was staring at him like he was mad.
     
    “I thought I felt something.” Greg made like he was brushing stuff off himself. “You know, like insects?”
     
    The woman hurried past him without saying a word and disappeared out of the park.
     
    “This is a job for life, Greg. Didn’t I say