The Black Tower: The Complete Series

by David R. Beshears

  “Ever since you took me off the floor.”

  “Right.” Owen turned and looked back to Quinn. “Would you like to get away for a bit?”

  “Am I being drafted now?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Then how can I say no?”

  “You won’t want to.” Owen took the several steps back toward Quinn. “They don’t know it yet, but the team is in a fix. You can do something about that.”

  “Me?”

  “I’m as surprised as you, Lieutenant.”

  “Oh, nothing surprises me anymore, Doctor Owen.”

  Good point, thought Owen. She looked around them as she continued.

  “The floor the team is now on wasn’t planned, wasn’t part of the original, how would you say… itinerary. From what I’m able to gather, they were rerouted there by the Adversary in order to take them out of the path of the storm.”

  “He rescued them?”

  “I guess so,” Owen shrugged. “The storm wasn’t his idea. He can’t have it finishing off our people before he has the chance to do it himself.”

  Quinn wrinkled his brow, studied on what that meant. “That makes some twisted sense. Setting aside the thousand questions it brings to mind, the one I gotta ask first is… if they’re out of the path of the storm, what does the Adversary want me for?”

  “Yeah… that one took me a bit to sort out, myself,” said Owen. “You see, that floor they’re on? It’s kind of a dead end. There is no exit. You? You are going to go get one.”

  §

  Asher was in the lower bunk in the men’s sleeping quarters midway up the lighthouse. He had managed a few hours sleep, was awake now, and was staring up at the springs of the bunk above him.

  The room had two sets of stacked bunks, a small desk and chair, and a narrow window. The door to the stairwell stood open. A cool breeze worked its way up the stairwell whenever both the door downstairs and the door leading out onto the catwalk upstairs were open. Some of that breeze would occasionally find its way into the sleeping quarters.

  Asher heard thumping on the stairs, looked over just in time to see Lisa rush past on her way down. She was breathlessly calling out “You gotta see this, you gotta see this.”

  By the time Asher got to his feet and made it to the door, Lisa was hurrying back up the stairwell. Costa and Church were right behind her.

  Following them up the stairs, Asher reached the lantern room and then stepped out onto the catwalk. Costa and Church were standing beside Lisa. Asher moved up next to them and looked outward.

  The storm front was much nearer, which created the illusion of drawing the horizon nearer. But Lisa was pointing to something else.

  There was a dark shadow set against that gray storm wall.

  It was the silhouette of a ship.

  Episode Ten / Chapter Three

  Ramos slowly worked his way up the cliff face. Every handhold, every foothold, was a carefully thought-out action. Even with that, there had been more than a few close calls, and he was less than halfway to the top.

  Lisa watched from the beach below, far enough out from the wall of the cliff that she could observe, on occasion recommend a move to the left or the right. They had planned Ramos’ route before he started up, but he hadn’t been able to follow that path exactly as charted.

  At the moment he was in a difficult spot. There had been no way for him to continue up. He had hoped to move to the left, thought he saw a foothold; but it had broken loose from the wall when he put weight on it, and his handhold had been precarious at best. It had been a desperate scramble to stop his slide and now he simply held on tight, the side of his face planted firmly against the rock.

  Lisa called up to him. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  “Yeah, well… let’s discuss the merits of the plan once we get my butt down from here.”

  “Maybe I should go get someone.”

  “No…” Ramos sighed tiredly. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Why not?” She thought a moment. “You didn’t tell Sergeant Costa what we were going to do, did you?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  “Jerry…”

  “Not a problem,” he droned. “Not a problem.”

  He very slowly took his weight off one foot and tried to find a foothold further down. The left side of his face was still pressed against the cliff, his cheek slid against the rock as he eased down a few inches.

  He saw a shadow drift across the face of the cliff.

  “Oh, crap,” he grumbled.

  §

  Costa leapt out of the stairwell and ran across the main floor room of the lighthouse. She rushed past Church and Asher at the table on her way out the door.

  Both Church and Asher were on their feet and hurrying after her. Something was obviously terribly wrong.

  Scrambling down onto the beach, they could see Lisa in the distance. She was throwing rocks and sticks and Ramos’ wooden staff up into the air, all in the general direction of the oversized seagull.

  The giant gull wasn’t having much trouble avoiding the flying objects as it focused its attention on something that was on the face of the cliff.

  As they got closer, they could see that the something was someone, and that someone was clinging to the cliff wall as the seagull attempted to get at him, pecking at him with its beak and pushing at him with its feet. The gull wasn’t having an easy time of it, as it couldn’t hold its position very well. The protruding rocks of cliff were getting in the way of its flapping wings. Still, it was managing to reach in enough that at any moment Ramos would be torn loose and would plummet to the beach below.

  Costa reached Lisa, picked up the staff and threw it like a spear at the seagull. The dull tip of the staff struck the bird on the body just under the wing and the bird squawked in pain and in anger. It moved off, but quickly hurled itself back toward Ramos.

  Asher had a fist-sized stone, threw it toward the bird, leading enough ahead of it that the stone hit home just as the bird reached Ramos.

  By then Costa had retrieved the staff. Using staff and stones, those on the ground eventually managed to drive off the bird.

  Once the world had calmed down, they looked up toward Ramos. His shirt was torn, his hair was mussed, and he wasn’t moving.

  “You alive up there?” asked Costa.

  It was quiet for what seemed a very long time. They finally heard Ramos mumbling loudly, the side of his face still against the cliff wall.

  “I’m going go to have to get back to you on that, Sarge.”

  “Uh, huh. While you’re figuring that out, get your ass down here.”

  §

  Asher came down the stairwell and into the main room. He tossed a shirt to Ramos, who grabbed it out of the air and began putting it on.

  “Will he live?” he asked Susan. Susan was closing up the small first aid kit.

  “The cuts aren’t as bad as they look. I expect he’ll have some painful bruises, though.”

  “Well deserved,” said Lisa. She and Church were sitting at the table opposite Ramos.

  “Thanks for the shirt, Professor,” said Ramos, buttoning it. “The next floor needs to be a shopping mall.” He turned to Lisa. “And I apologize. I am sorry.”

  “Hey, I’m easy. Sergeant Costa, on the other hand…”

  Costa had not been happy. Ramos and Lisa had been directed to inspect the cliff face more closely, to search for anomalies. There had been nothing in the instructions about trying to climb it. Any such attempt, should it come, was to be a full team affair.

  Costa came into the room from the stairwell. “And the court martial will have to wait.”

  No one knew whether or not she was joking; all chose to ignore it.

  “The storm front?” asked Church.

  “Much closer. An hour or two out at best.”

  “And the ship?”

  “Oh, it is definitely a ship. And it’s still there, pushing in ahead of the front.�
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  “There has to be a twisted sense of humor underlying all this,” said Susan. “We finally land on a world where the storm doesn’t follow us, and what are we faced with? A storm.”

  §

  The sky turned a dark, menacing gray. At first a deep quiet lay over the world, but then the winds came, and then the heavy rain. The sea grew angrier, violent waves began crashing against the rocks.

  Asher and Costa stood on the catwalk, straining to get a better look at the ship. The others were just inside, looking out from behind the glass wall of the lantern room.

  “Sara… I think that’s our freighter,” said Asher.

  “You mean from the second floor? It can’t be.”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “But… the second floor. And a different ocean.”

  “I know. But look at it.”

  The ship was a thousand yards out, looked to be at the mercy of the tide and the wind. It continued to approach the shore.

  “I don’t see how, Professor,” said Costa. “Similar, maybe, but I don’t think it’s the same ship.”

  The door behind them opened and Church came out onto the catwalk. He struggled against the rain and wind as he pushed his way to the rail.

  “Peter! Sara! It’s the freighter! Our freighter!”

  The ship rose high on the crest of a wave, pitched broadside and slid back.

  “And it doesn’t look like there’s anyone at the wheel,” said Asher.

  §

  Lieutenant Quinn stood before the wheel in the wheelhouse of the decrepit old freighter. Elizabeth Owen stood beside him. Beyond the forward windows, they could just make out the lighthouse through the heavy rain. It was coming up fast.

  Quinn’s handling of the wheel seemed to have little effect on the ship’s direction or its momentum. One moment the shore lay directly ahead of the bow, the next it was gone and they were looking at open sea. Quinn continued to turn the wheel to port, to starboard, and back. The beach, the rocks, the lighthouse… continued to draw nearer.

  Episode Ten / Chapter Four

  The ship ran aground on the north beach less than a hundred yards from the rocky promontory on which stood the lighthouse. Despite the wind and rain, everyone left the safety of the lighthouse and worked their way down onto the sand. As they trudged up the beach, there was more speculation about this being their freighter.

  “Of course it is,” said Ramos. “Just look at it.”

  “We’ll have to wait until we’re aboard to know that for sure,” said Church. They had never actually seen their freighter from a distance, as they had never left the ship.

  “How do we get on board?” asked Lisa.

  Church stopped, frowned, and studied the hull of the ship. It was a long way up to the twisted railing and the deck. The forward third of the ship was up on dry sand, leaving most of it still sitting in the water.

  “There,” said Costa. She pointed to the hull about two thirds of the way toward the stern.

  “What is that?” asked Asher.

  “Ladder.” Costa took a few steps nearer the water. The waves had settled some, but the wind continued to create whitecaps.

  The ladder was recessed into the hull itself, the rungs within a narrow cavity. It began up near the deck and ended a few feet down below what would normally be the waterline. Now though, the ship beached as it was, the bottom rung of the ladder was at least four feet above the waves.

  Ramos looked to Costa, who gave a sharp nod. He walked into the water, worked his way along the hull until he reached the ladder. The water there was about two feet deep, though the rolling swells sometimes added another foot or two to that and made it difficult to stand in place.

  Ramos reached up and just managed to take hold of the first rung in the ladder. He pulled himself up to the take the next, and then the next. Only then was he able to bring one foot up and gain a foothold.

  Okay, so several of the team might benefit from a boost up…

  Seeing that the water depth was at least manageable, the others started into the surf. Reaching the ladder, Costa and Asher stood to either side and, steadying themselves against the swells, helped the others up onto the ladder.

  Stepping off the ladder and onto the deck, Asher looked fore and aft and quickly turned to Costa, coming off the ladder right behind him.

  “Looks awfully familiar to me, Sara.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean.”

  They followed after the others, Susan directly ahead of them. They were all going into the lounge, which had been the common meeting area for them so many months ago.

  Ramos came from somewhere forward just as Asher and Costa reached the door to the lounge.

  “There’s no one in the wheelhouse.”

  “Naturally,” sighed Costa.

  In the lounge, Church was standing near the table, tapping at the surface with his fingertips. He and Banister had spent quite a bit of time sitting at this table.

  Susan and Lisa were over at the bar, where Ramos had once had their radio set up, back when they had a radio. Susan saw something in the small trash bin next to counter. She bent down and brought out an empty can of spinach.

  “Remember these?” she asked.

  “Ah geez, the spinach,” groaned Ramos.

  “Well, well… there’s little doubt now,” said Church.

  “It followed us here?” asked Lisa.

  “I doubt it took the same path,” said Ramos.

  “That’s not what I’m suggesting, Jerry.”

  “So…” Susan wondered aloud. “If this is the same ship, might the portal in the hold be here as well?”

  “That portal took us to the ghost town,” said Lisa. “Wouldn’t we end up all the way back on the third floor?”

  “Oh, dear… there’s an unsettling thought,” said Church. “I suppose the answer very much depends on just how this freighter got here. And why.”

  “Before we start making vacation plans, let’s take a look in the hold,” said Costa. “The issue may be moot.”

  §

  They were fairly confident that they were in fact alone on the ship. Nonetheless, while Costa took Church and Susan down to the forward hold, she sent the others to investigate the rest of the ship.

  The crew’s quarters looked just as they had left it, including their unmade bunks; small rooms set along a narrow hall, the larger captain’s quarters at the far end. There was even the chair that had been left in the hall that those standing night watch had used during their time on board.

  Finding nothing else, Ramos led the way then to the mess, supply, and finally to the engine room. There was no sign that there had been any visitors since they had last been aboard the freighter.

  “It sure is peaceful,” noted Ramos. “I’d forgotten just how quiet it was on this old heap.”

  “You mean other than the sea monster?” Lisa asked pointedly.

  “Right. Sorry.” Ramos straightened, uncomfortable. The rear hold of the freighter had been where they had lost Ray Do, Lisa’s friend.

  “It’s not all that quiet,” said Asher. He was looking up, as if he could see through the metal to the world outside the ship. Even down here in the bowels of the freighter, he could hear the strong winds and heavy rain. It was getting worse. The heart of the storm had followed the ship ashore.

  “It sounds like a hurricane out there,” said Lisa.

  “Time we joined the others,” stated Ramos. He turned about and retreated back through the door, leaving the others to follow.

  §

  Costa, Susan and Church stood on the metal walkway twenty feet above the hold.

  “It’s dry,” said Susan.

  “The bow of the ship is aground above the water,” said Costa.

  Church lifted a hand and raised a finger. “But if you will recall, my dear, the water in this hold did not come from the sea outside. It was fed from the lake beyond the portal.”

  “The lake outside the ghost town.”

&nb
sp; “Exactly.”

  “But if there’s no water here in the hold, that means there’s no portal,” said Costa.

  “Or the portal is here still, but it is no longer opening to the lake.” Church started toward the steep, rickety metal stairs that led down to the floor.

  Susan was leaning against the rail, carefully studying the hold below. “I don’t see anything, Doctor Church,” she said.

  “Come, come, my dear. Let us take a closer look.” Church moved quickly to the stairs and led the way down onto the floor.

  As they started across the hold, Costa placed a gentle hand on Church’s arm.

  “Take it slow, Doctor,” she said. The words echoed hollowly throughout the hold.

  “Yes, Sara. Of course.” He slowed his pace just a tad, and the others followed suit.

  There really was nothing to see. The great cavernous chamber was empty, bulkhead to bulkhead. They stopped. Church turned about, his eyes taking in everything. He was looking for something, anything… a flicker, a shimmer, some indication that something was there.

  “Well, this is very disappointing,” he sighed at last.

  Susan placed her hands on her hips and frowned. “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know, Susan.” Church shook his head and started forward again. He took a step, and then another. “I suppose we must—”

  Church vanished. He was there, and then he was gone.

  Costa held her arms out wide. “Everybody freeze.”

  “Oh my God,” said Susan, a hushed cry.

  “What the hell?” came from behind them, from up on the walk.

  Costa turned and looked back. Ramos, Asher and Lisa had come into the hold.

  “Go get our stuff, Ramos,” Costa called up.

  Up on the walk, Ramos turned to Asher. “A hand, Professor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Lisa, you wait here.”

  Lisa was looking numbly down at those on the floor of the hold. Ramos placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Lisa? How ‘bout you go down to Costa? Wait for us there.”

  Lisa nodded, said nothing.

  §

  Ramos and Asher worked their way up from the bowels of the ship and eventually out onto the open deck. The storm had definitely gotten worse and they were quickly soaked. They made their way over the side and down into the surf, now white and foamy and churning violently.