Autumn Falls

by A. R. Kingston

  "Awesome! What should we do with it then?"

  "Why don't you keep it, for good luck?" Zack handed him the coin. "Once we return to the mainland, I'll have one of my guys look into it and see if we can confirm your mom's suspicions?"

  "That would be so cool! What should we do now?"

  "What do you want to do?"

  "What you do. I want to hunt spooky things and do research."

  "In that case..." Zack smiled and winked at Charlotte. "Do you two want to go explore that old lighthouse and search for hidden ghosts?"

  "Yes!"

  "What?" Charlotte shook her head. "No, we really shouldn't. What if someone is there?"

  "Then I'll just tell them we want to poke around and do some ghost hunting and research for my book. At worst, I'll give them some money, and they'll let us in. Come on, where is your sense of adventure, Cherry."

  "It left when I had a baby."

  "Well, Kevin is a big kid now, time to get it back."

  "Come on mom, let's go have a peek. There is no harm in that, plus you always said how much you love lighthouses, this is your chance to explore a really old one without a guided tour."

  "Fine." She folded her arms over her chest. "But I am not responsible for what happens to you two."

  Strolling back up to the Range Rover, Charlotte sensed someone looking at her from the tree line. She turned, but despite feeling several sets of eyes on her, she could see no one peeking out from the small patch of forest. There was something else about those eyes, unlike the eyes at the house at night, these weren't threatening, they were more inquisitive, pleading even. Something about the way the forest looked at her caused her to grow sad, as if the longing of countless souls radiated through her. Some force on the island wanted to kill her, but something else pleaded with her to be saved. Turning her back to the tress, she walked to the car, while her unseen company continued to trail behind her.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Chasing ghosts while pursued by daemons...”—Gail Carriger, Blameless

  D riving up the winding wooded path, Charlotte caught glimpses of the lighthouse whenever the Range Rover slowed down for a sharp turn. The forty-one-foot ivory tower constructed of brick peeked its way above the trees even before they pulled up to the small, dirt lot next to it. Some of the paint had faded away, revealing splotches of red beneath. A small brick house was attached to the wide base, boarded up without a need for a keeper to live in it. Jumping out from the car, Zack went to try the black iron door pitted with rust, but the heavy slab refused to open.

  "Dang. It's locked. Let me see if I can find another way in. There should be an entry point from the keeper's cottage, maybe I can find my way inside."

  Wondering around looking at the small red house, Zack left Charlotte and Kevin alone by the main entrance. The structure had a somber energy about it, as if the building itself was in mourning. Below the hill they were on sat the old hospital encased in the forest and the light ocean breeze floating past it carried up the scent of sulfur and a pained, unintelligible voice. The hairs on Charlotte's arm stood up. She was aware of someone else there with them and listened to muffled clangs on the other side of the door. Silence followed the commotion, and after a brief pause, the metal creaked, groaned, and swung open, welcoming them inside. Blinking, she stared into the abyss of the tower and a strange pull begging her to explore urged her inside.

  "Hey Zack," she darted her head around, looking for him, "the door just opened."

  "What?" Zack rounded the base of the tower and looked at her with a crinkled brow. "How?"

  "How would I know? Maybe you loosened it up or something."

  "I guess so. Shall we go up and explore?"

  "Last one up is a rotten egg."

  Kevin darted past the two of them and ran into the mouth of the building. Charlotte tried to grab hold of him while shouting for him to wait, but he slipped past her fingers and clambered up the metal stairs. Muttering at himself, Zack ran in behind him, leaving her alone outside. Peeking her head through the frame, she stepped into the cold interior and glanced up with a shudder. While all lighthouses employed the nautilus stairs design, which she was not fond of, she hated this style in particular. Browned, rickety metal steps spiraled upwards with nothing between them to catch her if the steps broke, and she fell. Gripping the railing on both sides, she slowly made her way up, counting the steps along the way, one-hundred and twenty-five in all. At the top, the site of Zack and Kevin, standing frozen in fear next to the lens greeted her.

  "What's wrong you two?" Charlotte huffed and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. "You both look like you have seen a ghost."

  "Mom... there is no light here."

  "What do you mean? The bulb is right in front of you and I see the light from here all the time."

  "See for yourself." Zack stepped aside. "There is nothing here. Just an empty house and some brass tube looking thing. It looks more like a museum piece than a working lighthouse."

  "Oh my," Charlotte walked over to them and glanced at the lighthouse component with sparkling eyes, "this has to be one of the original Fresnel Bull's Eye Lenses. Why, I have never seen one outside a display before. And this," she pointed to the two oxidized brass tubes "this is a Funck Constant Level Fountain Lamp. They stopped using them in nineteen-ten, and they are extremely rare."

  "Like I said. This thing is not operational."

  "But..." Kevin took hold of Zack's hand. "If this thing doesn't work, then where does the light come from."

  "A ghost light."

  "Really, Zack? Have all the ghost stories you’ve researched gone to your head? You seriously expect me to believe that the light coming from this lighthouse is not real?"

  "Oh, it's real, it's just not made by that thing you mentioned, the Fluke something or other."

  "Funck Constant Level Fountain Lamp. And if the lighthouse doesn't use it, then how can there be a light coming from it?"

  "I don't know, but it's not unheard of. This phenomenon has never been explained, but it happens in lighthouses all over the world, even ones that have officially retired. Almost as if the dead keepers continue to do their job despite the building being decommissioned."

  "Or a more logical explanation would be that this lighthouse never went automatic and continues to use the fountain lamp."

  "Then who do you suggest operates it? The keeper's hut is boarded up and falling apart. No one has lived in this place for close to a century."

  "Perhaps a local volunteer. Why jump to supernatural conclusions when we have plenty of normal explanations?"

  She continued to stare at Zack, who didn't seem to have a rebuttal, and as much as she wanted to say it was odd that a lighthouse would not get automated, she was not about to admit to the possibility of ghosts. Despite everything she encountered on the island, Charlotte wanted to cling to the rational, for admitting to the existence of the supernatural would send her over the edge.

  Suddenly, she had the urge to leave, but as she turned to head down the stairs, a tolling of a bell in the distance pulled her back. Walking outside to the railing, she glanced over at the horizon and saw a three-decked, wood ship bobbing in the waves with raised, white sails. Impossible, she thought, but as the vessel drew closer to the jagged rocks beyond, her jaw dropped, and she had to accept the only explanation left available.

  "Is..." she dared not say it, the words refused to leave her lips. "Is that what I think it is?"

  "A ghost ship." Zack put a hand around her. "Do you believe me now, Cherry?"

  "I don't know." She shook her head with her voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

  "Wow, I can't believe I had my first ghost sighting today. This is so cool. Do you think it's the ship you mentioned mom, the Sophia Schrodinger?"

  "The Sophie Schreur. And no, this can't be her. This is a nineteenth-century British warship. But I have no idea which one it could be."

  "Another lost ship? This is amazin
g. I can't wait to go home and help dad figure out which one it is. I want to be just like him when I grow up."

  "Gee. Thanks."

  "Sorry mom, but your job creeps me out a bit. I don't like blood or dead people and... I always wanted to be like him, even before I knew he was my dad."

  Charlotte smiled at his remark and nodded as she continued to scrutinize the ship as it speared itself on the jagged rocks and vanish from view. She wondered what happened to the people on board. The rocks were close to shore, some of the men could have survived. Then again, if they survived, why was there no record of the wreckage. Surely a shipwreck this close to land would be a prime location for researchers and treasure hunters. And yet, this was the first time she was learning of a ship going down in this part of the ocean.

  Staring out at the fog on the horizon creeping closer to shore, she continued to ponder the fate of the doomed vessel when the door downstairs slammed shut, the clang echoing up through the tower. She turned and listened to the footsteps jangle on the metal steps, bouncing off the brick walls, and coming closer. A volunteer must have come to light the lantern, and Zack would have to talk his way out of this one when they were discovered trespassing. Charlotte hoped this trip would not cost her job and was preparing an explanation in her head when the footfalls suddenly stopped. The hairs stood up on her arms as the flame flickered to life before the invisible keeper started back down the stairs. Paralyzed by shock, she looked at the beam of light cutting through the fog engulfing them until the squeaking of the metal hinges let her know they were alone.

  "Okay, I've had enough of this." Charlotte grabbed hold of Zack's arm. "Can we please just get the hell out of here and go back home?"

  "Yeah dad, I think this is enough spooky stuff for one day."

  "I concur. Let's go home."

  Forgetting her fear of heights and the metal steps, Charlotte bound her way down the stairs behind Zack and Kevin. Rushing out into the creamy blanket of fog, she slammed the door shut behind her. Stumbling to find the car in the thick vapor, she didn't turn to look back, not even as someone called her name from the forest. Finally spotting the outline of the Range Rover, she ran for it, tripping over rocks as she went until she was safely inside the cabin. They drove down the hill as fast as they could, with neither of them mentioning the lighthouse until they were safely back at the house.

  Having finished dinner and shaken off the events from earlier, Charlotte put Kevin to bed and snuggled in besides Zack. It did not take him long to fall asleep, and he lay next to her snoring while she stayed awake and looked into the shadows lurking past the doorway. Once more her arm hairs stood up, and she spotted something moving in the darkness, lingering, and waiting for a chance to strike. Occasionally the creature would mew and snarl, getting closer to the room, but quickly retreating into the hallway. She didn't know what was keeping it away, but it would not be long until she had to confront it, her time was slipping away like sand in an hourglass.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “The world outside had its own rules, and those rules were not human. — Michel Houellebecq, The Elementary Particles

  A fter two sleepless nights at the house watching the shadowy figure lurking in the hallway, Charlotte went into work exhausted. She joined Chuck, who sat in the break room, waiting for her. Ever since the day the pigman dragged away the fireman, no other first responder dared to go up to the third floor except for them. Neither of them cared though, they had both concluded the creature was not after them, and they enjoyed the peaceful mornings all to themselves. Having brewed a fresh pot of coffee, Charlotte handed a mug to her partner and sat down next to him.

  "So, I'm thinking about taking up Zack on his offer and leaving the island to be with him in New York."

  "What?" Charles laughed, nearly spitting out his coffee. "Does this mean the ice queen has a heart after all?"

  "Haha, very funny. You're a real comedian, you know that?"

  "I'm just teasing you, Char. I'm glad you decided to give the poor schmuck a second chance. With the way he looked at you when he first saw you, I thought my own heart was going to break. He really does care for you; I hope you realize that."

  "I know, that's why I'm willing to give him another try. And..." she rolled her eyes, "I never could resist his charms, even when I'd rather punch him in the face."

  "Ouch, I hope the poor guy remembers what he's getting into." Winking at her, Chuck put his mug down and leaned back. "Does this mean you'll be seeking another job in the Big Apple?"

  "Absolutely, I still love this job, even if it's not the one I originally wanted."

  "Would you still consider having me as a partner?"

  "Well, yes, but..."

  "Don't worry, Iris and I were thinking of leaving his cursed place as well, and with you moving to New York it works out great. My uncle works for the mayor there, and he can pull some strings and keep us working as a team, and Iris would go work for him. As long as you want to still be my partner."

  "Oddly enough, I'd actually enjoy that. You are the first partner I've opened up to, and I would love to continue our friendship."

  "I'm honored you think so highly of me, especially since I feel this odd connection to you."

  "Strange, I feel it too." Charlotte looked over at him. "What made the two of you decide to bail?"

  "Everything. Aside from the alien nature of the place, neither of us feels welcome here. Iris always thinks someone is watching her, and me, well I get goosebumps at night because something is calling to me out of the gloom. There is always this sense of danger here too, and neither of us likes it. I'm sure you understand it better than anyone."

  "Yes, but I don't think this place is going to let us leave, at least not without a fight."

  Glancing over at her, Chuck nodded his head. She knew he had the sense of being wanted too, and not in a good way. The island hungered for them the same way a wolf hungers for a meal after a long winter. She wondered what was in store for them, and then Iris came into the room, looking ashen and fiddling with the hem of her yellow sweater. Her eyes were moist with tears and her lower lip quivered as she looked over at the two of them. Chuck must have noticed too, for his face suddenly went blank, and he was up to his feet before the words even left his mouth.

  "What's wrong, Iris? You look as white as a sheet, love?"

  "There has been a boating accident at the pier." Iris's voice cracked and broke as she tried to keep herself from crying. "A little girl is involved, she's seriously hurt, and her father is dead."

  "Say no more." Charlotte jumped up to her feet and snatched the ambulance keys off the table. "We are on our way."

  Rushing down the stairs to the ambulance, Charlotte spotted a firefighter in the corner, leaning against the wall, staring at them with a smirk. A police officer who was talking to him gave her a side glance, and the corners of his lips curled into a sickening grin. The hairs stood up on her arms again, something was not right about the two of them, about the entire department actually, but she paid little attention to the nausiating feeling forming in her gut, she had an injured child to save. Hopping in the ambulance's cab, she turned on her sirens and drove out of the bay. Stealing a glance into her rear view mirror as she turned the corner, she spotted the two men standing side by side, arms crossed, watching them.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.”—Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

  P ulling up to the beach where Kevin found his coin, they spotted a small group of people standing around a pair of bodies. In the ocean, a few feet from the shore, a speed boat dangled off a smaller vessel. It must have hit the victims as they were out on a pleasure cruise. Walking out towards the scene, the first thing she noticed was the sand, its golden grains stained a deep crimson. A man lay to the side, facing up to the s
un, the skin on his face hanging open to reveal the skull beneath. The propeller sheered the nose clean off his face, and in the bone-rimmed sockets a pair of golden eyes stared out into the sky. He didn't flinch, and he was not breathing; he was clearly beyond their help. A short distance away a small, blonde girl, about five or six, reached her hand out to Charlotte, her pale green eyes begging for help.

  "You go cover up the guy and call it in. I'll see what I can do for the kid."

  Leaving Chuck alone with the dead man, she ran over to the child who did not appear to be in any pain. Glancing down the girl's leg, she spotted three deep gouges slicing through layers of tissue, and fat to the muscle beneath. That must have been where the propeller hit her, but aside from steadily oozing blood, it did not appear to be life-threatening. Relieved, Charlotte put down her bag and knelt beside the girl to inspect the injuries closer.

  "Hey, there." Charlotte assessed the cuts which missed any major arteries, "what's your name?"

  "Hailey."

  "Hi, Hailey. I'm Charlotte."

  "I know. You are Mr. Campbell's girlfriend."

  "How... how did you know that?"

  "Clarence told me."

  "Who's Clarence?"

  "A friend."

  "I see." Charlotte reached for her bag. "Well, your friend sure knows an awful lot, don't he?"

  "He knows everything, about everyone here. That's his job, you know, so he can keep people safe." The girl paused and looked up with a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. "Miss. Charlotte... can you keep a secret?"

  "Of course, I'm a pro at keeping secrets."

  "I don't really want to die today, Miss. Charlotte."

  "You won't die, sweetie; your injury is not bad. I will patch you up and take you to the hospital where they will give you a few stiches. You will be as good as new in a few weeks."

  "You don't understand, I have to die, we all do. I have already been marked for death, there is nothing you can do. And don't you know, no one ever survives on this island?"