The Lifeguard

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

  “Justin, why the hell are you worrying about the cold? You know as well as I do that she’s dead.”

  Kelsey, frozen in the hall outside the kitchen, felt the sudden, suffocating silence…heard the gurgle of coffee being poured.

  The deep voice sighed, gathering patience. “Look. You know what the cove’s like. The tide comes in like a flood. Even if she didn’t get smashed on the rocks, any one of those underwater caves could have sucked her down.”

  “I’m not giving up yet.”

  “Fine,” the voice replied. “Where’s Dad?”

  “With Marjorie.”

  “Oh, hell, are they here?”

  There was no mistaking the disgust in the voice, and Kelsey cringed back against the wall. She had never heard such coldness, such lack of feeling, and an inexplicable stab of fear went through her. She had no desire to meet Neale, but before she could leave, Eric and Mom rushed through the door.

  Kelsey, slipping in after them, got her first look at Neale Connell and felt her heart squeeze into her throat.

  He was much taller than Justin—so lean and tan in just the faded jeans he wore that he seemed like a shadow lurking in the far corner of the kitchen. He tipped his coffee cup to his lips, casual and unhurried, yet from across the room Kelsey knew he had seen her. He was watching her even now, she could feel it—those dark, dark eyes in cool appraisal over the rim of his cup; the peculiar light they had, like some cat, calmly assessing his prey…

  Kelsey averted her eyes, but not before noticing his thick black hair, the firm set of his jaw, the high cheekbones, the sinewy curve to his upper arms. He lowered the cup, still watching her, and she moved closer to Justin.

  Eric pressed his fists to his eyes. “We have to do something—”

  “There’s nothing else we can do,” said Neale. He poured himself another cup of coffee. “There’s nothing anyone can do. They’ve questioned everyone they can think of. Nobody saw her, and nobody knows anything. Or so they say.”

  “No,” Eric said quietly. “I can’t accept that.”

  Neale shifted and cleared his throat. “Dad…I think you’re gonna have to.”

  Eric stared back at him. “Wasn’t there anything else Skip could remember?”

  “I wouldn’t count on Skip for anything,” Neale said acidly.

  “He still says he came by to get Beth at six, and she wasn’t here,” Justin broke in.

  “But I was right next door,” Eric said. “Why didn’t he tell me Beth wasn’t here?”

  “He did, Dad,” Justin said softly. “Don’t you remember? He said he yelled in at the door, but you were typing, and he didn’t want to interrupt you.”

  Eric looked exhausted. “Yes, you’re right…I’m like that when I’m working…not always quite aware…”

  Neale pushed himself slowly away from the counter. “Why don’t you get some sleep? If we hear anything, we’ll wake you.”

  “Yes,” Eric said absently. “I don’t believe you’ve met—Neale, this is Marjorie and Kelsey.”

  Neale mumbled something unintelligible and Kelsey nodded, escaping gratefully to the hall. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and started slowly upstairs, the floorboards groaning beneath her footsteps. The only upstairs light on was the one in Beth’s room…

  Beth’s…

  Kelsey hesitated in the doorway. Yes, Beth was everywhere, sweet and thoughtful, and somehow, very much alive…

  Rubbing the sudden chill from her arms, Kelsey reached into the closet for a hanger, and was startled when a piece of paper fell onto the floor. She leaned down and picked it up, a puzzled smile on her face as she read:

  Kelsey,

  I know we will be great friends!

  Love, Beth

  How special, Kelsey thought…so considerate, so accepting… Trusting, Kelsey decided. Beth must have been so trusting…

  It was so cold in here. Kelsey tried to close the window over her bed, but it wouldn’t budge. Pulling harder, she felt her earring snag on her sleeve and drop down behind the headboard. Easing onto her stomach, she reached under the bed and accidentally knocked her pillow onto the floor.

  There beside her where her pillow had been, was a small piece of folded notepaper.

  Kelsey smiled, propping herself on her elbows as she unfolded it Beth must have put it there, for her to find when she went to sleep tonight—

  The smile froze on Kelsey’s face.

  The writing blurred, and her hands began to shake.

  Kelsey,

  I think someone is going to kill me.

  Chapter 3

  IT WAS A JOKE, of course. It had to be.

  Kelsey stared at the crumpled paper on the nightstand where she’d tossed it, and Justin’s words rang again and again in her head—“Beth was always leaving little surprises around for everybody…”

  Of course it was a joke.

  Except Beth was missing, and it wasn’t funny.

  Kelsey jumped as a door slammed downstairs. She heard Justin in the hallway and just managed to grab the note as he came into the room.

  “I’m supposed to tell you to get some sleep,” he said softly, smiling. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, but if you have stuff to do, go ahead.”

  “No, I’ll be downstairs,” he said again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  What else could he do, Kelsey thought sadly, but wait. After he’d left, she pulled the note out again, studying the handwriting. At first glance it had looked the same as the other notes, but now she could see that it wasn’t quite so neat—as if this note had been written in a great hurry.

  What should I do? Everyone was so upset already, so convinced that Beth’s disappearance was an accident. And hadn’t Justin said how Beth loved going off alone to dream? If Kelsey presented this note now, a whole new set of horrible possibilities would open up. And for what? One piece of paper that might only be some fantasy in Beth’s mind… “Half the time you never knew if what she said was real or imaginary.” Just a story, probably. But why was the note addressed to me?

  Suddenly Kelsey had an idea. She’d call Jenny. Jenny would know what to do.

  Jamming the note into the pocket of her robe, Kelsey let herself out into the hall. Downstairs the TV blared and cupboard doors slammed, so she figured Justin was occupied, at least for a while. She wished she could just go down and ask him where the phone was, but if it was in the same room with him then he’d be able to hear everything she was saying. No, better to find an extension.

  Kelsey made a futile search of the upstairs. Frustrated, she started back into her room to go take a shower, when she heard the phone ring from below. Well, at least it existed somewhere—now if only she could get to it tomorrow without anyone hearing…

  When she finally stepped out of the shower, the house was silent. Kelsey buttoned her nightgown and opened the bathroom door.

  Funny…I could have sworn I left the light on…

  Kelsey froze in the unexpected blackness. She ran her palms over the wall, searching for a light switch, then took several steps forward, groping with outstretched hands through the darkness. Suppose Justin had gone out and left her there, and that note—that note—still hidden in her robe, and Beth’s bed so empty beside her own…

  Suppose Beth had come back.

  Suppose Beth was even now curled up in her bed…in the dark…watching her…

  “Oh, God—” Kelsey pitched forward onto a mattress, and in a terror-filled instant, clawed for the lamp, filling the room with soft, safe light.

  The room was the same. And she was alone.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she switched off the light again, tossed her robe across her feet, and huddled down under the covers. She could feel her eyes drooping…the room receding around her, a soft whirl of blackness, a soft murmur of sound…like surf…the faraway sighing of the sea…

  “Don’t struggle,” the voice said…“Don’t…it’ll be easier if you don’t
struggle…”

  But the roaring came again like it always did, that growing surge of indistinct sound and a scream, muffled, distant—

  “Don’t…struggle…”

  But she was struggling…great gasps of air from lungs bursting and that split second, that terrifying instant of realization as strength gave out and water poured in, black and sickening and endless…always endless…

  “Don’t…” the voice was fading again, and this time the face flashed, only a second, wavy in the water, eyes staring, saying her name, Kelsey, Kelsey…don’t struggle…as everything was fading, as her very life was fading…ending…

  “Dad! Help me! Oh, please, somebody help!”

  She was standing beside her bed, only she didn’t remember climbing out—just standing there with her arms wrapped around herself, shaking, freezing, just slipped out of a nightmare—

  She sobbed and raised her eyes in the dark, put her palms flat against the French doors—

  And saw the black eyes staring back at her from the other side.

  Kelsey wasn’t sure what happened next. In a daze, she heard screaming—doors banging and feet running, and suddenly a deep voice, furious, as the French doors burst open.

  “What the hell’s going on!”

  And then another voice spoke, quiet and very close, “I think she was having a nightmare—you shouldn’t have scared her like that.”

  “Scared her! Beth’s dead out there somewhere, it’s nearly two in the morning, and I hear a scream—and I’m supposed to stop and think about not scaring someone—”

  “Well, you knew I was here, didn’t you?”

  “With no lights on? I didn’t think anyone was here!”

  “You should have had your key,” the quiet voice said.

  “You should have left a door unlocked.”

  The voices, the room, the light—everything was pulling back into place at last. To Kelsey’s surprise she saw Justin’s arm around her shoulders, and then, framed in the French doors, she saw Neale.

  He looked as if he hated her.

  Dropping her eyes, Kelsey stammered, “Oh…I thought—”

  “It’s okay, he was just trying to get in. He forgot his key, and our room opens onto the deck like this one.” Justin gave her a little shake and smiled. “You must have had a nightmare. Think you can get back to sleep?”

  Kelsey nodded, avoiding Neale’s stare. “Yes, I think so. I’m really sorry—I—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just get some rest, okay?”

  “Okay.” Neale was so dark there in the doorway, his eyes so black, so piercing. He made her feel trapped, as if he could see through walls and around corners and in the dark.

  “Good-night, then.” Justin stood up, smiling, and she couldn’t help smiling back.

  “Good-night. And I’m really sorry.”

  Neale fastened the doors and followed his brother out of the room, but though Kelsey slid right into bed again, she couldn’t sleep. She lay awake long after the voices in the next room had stopped, and when the room finally began to lighten, she got up at once. Throwing on shorts and a T-shirt, she crept downstairs and let herself out. If she was going to be stuck here, she might as well see what there was to do.

  The beach was deserted at this early hour. Kelsey walked to the water’s edge and stared out over the waves. She didn’t swim anymore since the accident, and a cold hatred had replaced her love of the water. Now, as she turned away from it, she fought back tears and carefully trained her eyes on the sand and its scatterings of shells and driftwood.

  A lifeguard station loomed up ahead of her, a dark skeleton against lavender daybreak. She paused for a minute, leaning her head against the stilted legs of the wooden tower, and took a deep breath, listening to the gulls, the rumble of the surf. Strange that there wasn’t another soul on the whole beach…yet somehow, she felt like she wasn’t alone…

  Suppressing a shudder, Kelsey hurried on. The sun was higher now, and as the sky paled around her, something in the distance took on sudden shape and substance, separating itself from the gloom and stopping her midstride.

  She had seen it yesterday from the jeep window. Only now it was even closer. And even more menacing.

  The craggy wall of rock rose steeply against the horizon, clawing ragged holes in the dawn, yet as she stared, Kelsey began to see that it wasn’t a sheer wall at all—rather a mass of sharp cliffs and oversized boulders lumped together, leaning far out into the sea. They seemed so cruel, somehow, as if deep, deep down, below the ugly scars and ridges, there was a mind, slow and cunning, aware of everything. Glancing nervously around, Kelsey went on.

  The beach began to disappear. One moment it was clutching the rocks, and then it tapered off, tunneling beneath a low stone overhang as the cliffs swallowed it whole. Kelsey stopped, uncertain. Surely there must be another pathway…

  Gasping, she whirled, her eyes darting nervously over the empty beach behind her. Empty…

  And yet she’d had that feeling again…that someone was watching her.

  Shading her eyes, she scanned the crags above. The sun, inching steadily higher, dissolved the last of the shadows and drenched the rocks golden, and as Kelsey squinted against the glare, she noticed one peak pulling away from the others, standing out from the mass of rocks as if it didn’t really belong. She walked closer, eyes glued to the peculiar shape, and then a smile spread over her face.

  “A lighthouse!”

  In the sunlight the tall tower stood out easily from its surroundings, and Kelsey’s eyes swept the incline, looking for a way up. She threaded her way behind the dunes, through sparse patches of trees growing back from the sand, skirting the cliffs. To her delight she discovered a narrow road carved into the side of the cliff, leading upwards, disappearing into the jagged spears of rock. A high iron gate had been erected across the entrance—nearly twelve feet tall, she guessed—and the gate was open. Kelsey frowned and went closer. The chain that secured the gate was swinging free, the huge iron padlock unhinged. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed between the gate and the rocks and started up.

  It seemed to take forever. Muscles aching, she followed the tedious twists and turns, shivering as the wind grew wilder, as the rocks pressed unnaturally close. Then without any warning, the lighthouse was standing just ten feet away.

  It looked like an oversized headstone.

  As Kelsey stared up at its dingy, crumbling walls, her excitement turned to disappointment. It was a dull, mottled color, rust and mildew trailing up the once-white stone, and it wasn’t straight as it had appeared below, but rather seemed to lean like the cliffs, out over the water. Kelsey let her eyes rove up, up, to the actual light tower atop the house. It looked so spooky perched up there all alone, walls and windows disintegrated from their frameworks, the encircling deck rotted away to a few splintered railings. It probably doesn’t even have a floor anymore…or stairs…only ghosts…

  Giving herself a firm mental shake, Kelsey walked toward the entrance. It was so isolated up here…so forgotten… She reached out toward the lighthouse door and gave it a shove.

  She didn’t expect it to open.

  She didn’t expect to fall across the threshold and sprawl facedown in the dirt and sand, scrabbling madly to tear the sticky cobwebs from her face…

  And she didn’t expect the laugh.

  The high, shrill, singsong laugh that rose up from the depths of the lighthouse and echoed again and again from a face she couldn’t see.

  Chapter 4

  IN HER PANIC KELSEY fell against the door, jamming it shut, but as the senseless laughter faded around her, she jerked at the latch and stumbled out into the deserted yard. As the wind forced her back toward the road, she spun around to gaze back at the lighthouse.

  The man was right behind her.

  With a scream, Kelsey jumped back, eyes riveted helplessly on his ghastly appearance. He seemed a giant skeleton, tattered clothes billowing from his lanky frame, a moth-eaten cap pulled low
upon his brow. He was dressed like a fisherman, yet the hands that dangled from his frayed cuffs looked like they could crush effortlessly with a touch. But it was his face—sun-wrinkled, wind-weathered—that filled her with such loathing. The leathery skin was covered with moles, and where his right eye should have been there was only a filthy black patch. His left eye, narrowed and slanted, was tinged with yellow, and spit clung to the sprouting of whiskers on his chin.

  Kelsey took another step back, ready to run.

  “What you doing here, girl? Hmmm?” The voice was brittle, the laugh a shrill, thin cackle that left him gasping for breath.

  Swallowing hard, Kelsey glanced toward the road.

  “You a tourist?” The one eye pinned her where she stood, and he cocked his head. “You come to swim? Or die maybe?” He chuckled at her look of horror, shaking his head from side to side. “Funny things happen to girls swimming round here. Maybe you hear about these things, hmmm?” He took a wobbly step toward her, and Kelsey realized she couldn’t move at all, she was too terrified. “You think I hurt you, girl? I won’t hurt you. Isaac don’t hurt nobody. See?” He groaned and lowered himself to the ground, joints popping. “I sit down. Here. Can’t chase you if I’m sitting now, can I?”

  Kelsey watched him, a strange curiosity slowly replacing her fear. If only he wouldn’t stare at her with that eye…

  “So,” he said. “You come to swim?”

  Kelsey felt her lips move. “I don’t like to swim.”

  “No?” His scraggly brows drew together. “But let me see…you don’t live around here ’cause I never seen you. So you gotta be a tourist. And tourists come to swim.”

  “I don’t like to swim,” Kelsey said again. “I don’t like water.”

  The old man slapped his leg, a fine spray of saliva flying from his mouth as he laughed loudly. “You’re funny, girl! You come to the beach and you don’t like to swim. You come to the island and you don’t like water! What you gonna do?” He rocked back a little, his eye a thoughtful slit as it looked her up and down. “You smart girl, not to swim, maybe. Maybe stay alive that way.”