As I made my way up I couldn’t help but wonder how many soldiers had taken this same climb during the war to end all wars. It had only been a year since its end but I swear, during some of the quiet nights, I could hear their echoes.
Just below the lantern room, gallery and catwalk I heard the muffled sounds of voices. Out of curiosity I opened the door just enough to listen but waited.
"Can you see anythin'?" a young boy asked. That was Jason, he was the newest member of the crew on this rotation. He didn’t seem quite old enough to be here but claimed that he was eighteen.
"It'll be dark in another hour. It'll start before then," the older voice answered. That was Trevor, he was fat, gray haired old man who had probably spent more of his life in a lighthouse than anywhere else. Probably more than anyone else in the service.
"What? What'll start?"
"See those clouds up there?" Trevor asked. "Them big bright ones?"
“Yeah, I see 'em."
"Them be storm clouds. Nasty ones."
"Are you sure, Trevor?" Jason asked nervously.
"Been here on Jessica's Palace nearly 20 years, boy. It be coming. Tell Fletcher to heat up the boiler right quick."
"On my way," Jason called and I heard him pounding down the stairs towards me. He whipped the door open and stopped in surprise. Before he could say anything I informed him that, yes, the boiler was hot, and I suggested we go down to the crew room in the midsection of the lighthouse.
There were four of us in the crew. Three of us from Britain and had grown up near the coast. The fourth was Steven, an American with a funny accent. Today was his day to take care of the galley.
"What's tonight, 'eh?" I asked.
"What else?" Steven shrugged.
"Its potatoes, ain't it?" Jason asked sheepishly.
“Well, it is not my fault. That is all we got left down there in storage until the supply ship comes. You'll have to ask Trevor when that is," Steven said.
"They need more than one ship a month to supply this place," I said walking around the room. "Trevor's going to have to have our young mate here scared to death of the sea before our rotation is over. He'll never go near a coast again."
Jason looked at me defiantly then smiled.
"Would not surprise me at all," Steven laughed as he sat down on one of the five wooden chairs. "I have to admit, though, sometimes the old man gives me the creeps."
"You'll be ignoring him soon enough," I said leaning against a cabinet.
"I hope so. He has been up there talking about storms for three days now." Steven said as he looked outside the small window in the room. "It does not look good out there, though."
"Oh, come on, 'eh? It's the storm season now and you can rant and rave about it every day and it won't be long before you're right." I looked out the window and, as much as I hated to say it, it looked like the old man was right. "He may be right about it today, about the storm," I said reluctantly.
"Really?"
"Yeah, might just be. Eh, how long before the potatoes are done?" I asked with a wink.
Only a half-hour had passed before the storm struck and we immediately went to work fighting the storm.
I was again in the boiler room making sure everything was stoked when the whistle from the pipe sounded. I picked up the ear cone and Trevor asked me to come up to the catwalk and bring Steven. Trevor thought he caught a glimpse of something in the water and his voice was seriousness enough I quickly joined him. There was a heavy wind blowing from the west and, despite the storm, a few lights from the coast three miles away could be seen.
"Look there, boy," Trevor said, pointing to the southwest. Even though I was thirty he still called me boy. “You, Fletcher, you be a sailor man with keener eyes than me."
I took the spyglass he offered and quickly scoped the horizon.
"Got it?" Trevor asked.
"Nothing out there for my eyes to see," I said hoping I didn’t sound mean.
"Keep looking. I tell you, there be something out there."
I looked hard but saw nothing distinct. Steven asked me if he could look so I handed him the spyglass.
Directly above us the foghorn under the vent ball sounded and we all jumped in shock. I yelled at Jason to hold off on the horn while we were out here and he looked at Trevor for approval before letting go of the pull rope.
"You're going to have that young man scared out of his wits, Trevor. Giving him those stories and all," I said.
"They not just stories. They be the truth."
"Bonkers!" I laughed.
"Two years ago, it was, that I looked to the south and see trouble."
"Two years ago?" I asked. He had caught my attention and I looked straight at him almost afraid of what he’d say next.
"Yes, it were two years ago I saw something under the water moving south. Something big, something evil. It came to a halt just a few kilometers off land down there. It broke the surface, just for a moment, and it were the most horrid thing I ever seen. It weren't no whale and it weren't no shark, it were bigger than both. It looked at me, looked right through me and through this lighthouse with these big eyes it had, then slowly slid back through the water. It swam farther south 'til I lost sight of it. Next morning I were walking the beach near the landing dock, and I see this little boat floating about ten meters off the shore. Had a man swim out there with a rope and we dragged it in. There be nothing on it. Not a thing. No people. Nothing. Lamps were burning, though, the clothes were lying on the bunks as if they were ready to be worn, but there weren't no one there. It were as if the whole crew just up and left."
I had been so caught up in his story telling I hadn’t realized until now that the rain had stopped.
"Never found out who it belonged to," Trevor continued. "The Navy just dragged it away."
"When was this?" I asked really wanting him to speak.
"I told you when it be. Two years back."
"But when? When during that year?" Dammit! That fat old man was going to have to tell me.
"Near the end of March, as I recall," he said after a moment.
"You fool! I shouted and couldn’t stop myself from stepping towards him with my fists clenched. "You nearly had me falling for your crazy lies, old man."
"Cool it, Fletcher," Steven said looking at me wide eyed.
I couldn’t take my eyes off that damn old man and I at him grabbing the collar of his coat and pushing him against one of the storm panes panel of the lantern room.
"Two years ago, in March, my ship went down out there and you knew it. It went down to the south, where you said that thing was headed. How could you use that to make me believe you’re crazy lies?"
I felt Steven grab my shoulders and pull me away. My eyes were locked on the fat old man and I couldn’t fight the American but I kept my grip on Trevor.
"What are you saying, boy?" Trevor asked, more than a little afraid.
"You knew my ship and the other went down there and you added that bit about something swimming around offshore to make me believe that you could see all those things, those omens that you are always spitting out," I growled in shock that the old man would be so cruel.
With more strength than I thought he had Steven pulled my hands away from their grasp on Trevor.
"I know of no such thing," Trevor said. "I only know what you say about your ship going down but you never tell me where or when."
I froze as it hit me like a sucker punch in the gut. The anger drained from my features, and I couldn’t look him in the face any more.
Jason sounded the foghorn and I felt the rain start again.
I went downstairs and spent the next half hour taking care of the boiler. Other than Jason regularly sounding the foghorn all I could hear was the storm outside.
I sat down on the top step of the room to watch it churn a while and Steven joined me from above.
"You were the one who told me I would get used to him sooner or later. Seems like it is later for you."
/> "Yeah, well, he just hit me pretty hard up there. I haven't thought about that storm for months."
"He didn't mean to do that."
"I know he didn't mean nothing. I just wasn't ready for it, that's all."
"I am sorry," he said looking at me earnestly.
"Lost some good people in that storm. Two whole ships went down, maybe two or three dozen of us made it out."
The foghorn sounded.
On the days he cooked Steven set a fine table. The plates, forks, spoons, and knives were in their proper positions. None of us used them the right way but it felt kind of fancy anyway.
“Almost like a real palace,” Jason had declared the first time they had sat down. Before it had been taken over by the army for the war this had actually been a privately owned islet. Some business man who had made a fortune at the turn of the century had named it Jessica’s Palace after his daughter. Of course, Trevor claimed to have seen her at one point and swore she was a looker. These days it was still referred to as The Palace.
Jason came in and sat down followed by Trevor. I couldn’t look at him and just stared at the plates.
Just as I was about to sit down thunder, very close this time, shook the lighthouse.
"That was too close," Steven said as Jason ran to the window and slammed shut the wooden cover.
"Shouldn't someone be up there, Trevor?" Jason asked.
"It be all right. The rain has stopped and we won't be eating for long."
"Let's eat this stuff before it goes bad on us," Steven said as he passed around the food.
“This stuff is always bad on us," I laughed and immediately wished I hadn’t by the way Steven rolled his eyes in frustration. I forced a smile, taking a full fork into my mouth and chewing boldly. With everything he’d added to it almost didn’t taste completely like potatoes.
"The doors closed?" Trevor asked looking at his meal.
"And locked, Trevor." Steven said.
We ate quietly without saying a word and, just as the last of the food had been passed around the table as an extremely loud crack of thunder was heard, this time even closer than the one before. We froze as we sat. There was yet another crack of thunder as rain could be heard falling against the lighthouse. The sound of the storm stopped suddenly and there was silence.
"What was that? What happened to it all?" Jason said quickly.
Steven and I both turned to Trevor.
"Everyone downstairs, we'll sound the horn as we should," Trevor ordered.
We didn’t bother with the rest of the meal and were downstairs as fast as we could. Jason was nervous and Steven paced while I watched the pressure gauge on the boiler. Trevor stood near the door, listening for awhile, then walked across the room and sat on the bench beside me.
"I ain't sure I know what be happening out there," he whispered so only I could hear him.
"Me neither. What do you--?"
"I'm sorry, Fletcher. You know, about what I said before,” he said with an honesty on his face I’d never seen before. “I didn't know what happened to you two years ago, or where it happened. There weren’t no boat like I said out there."
I was so surprised by his confession I just nodded at him.
"You youngsters, many of you just don't listen to the old folks like me. You all just think we should be pushed out of the service. Sometimes, when a young one like Jason comes along, we like to give them a little to shake a bit. If they believe in the warnings we give them maybe we stay longer."
Before I could say anything Jason came running over to us.
"It been all quiet out there for some time now, Trevor," he said. "Is the storm over?"
"I don't know, boy."
Steven joined us. "It should be all right," he said.
"Despite what I just told you," Trevor said, turning to me. "I did see something out there. Some sort of trouble. I don't like it."
"It did get quiet all of a sudden," I agreed as I stood.
As he unlocked the heavy wooden door and walked out into the darkness, we all knew instantly that something was wrong. There was no light to be seen in any direction except for the thin light that came from the door behind him. He walked further away and disappeared into shadow.
Jason started out of the lighthouse, to follow after Trevor, Steven and I barred him at the doorway.
"Stay put," Steven said.
"Why? What be wrong out there?"
"Trevor," I called out the door without stepping into the dark. "Trevor, where are you?"
"There's something out there and it's got Trevor," Jason yelled.
Steven denied it but I heard the doubt in his voice.
I wondered if Jason would get it but I was afraid of something. I didn’t know what it was made it. I saw on his face that Steven sensed it too and we pushed Jason back and closed the door.
"Lock it," I said starting to breath heavy.
"Trevor took the key with him," Steven gasped.
"Dammit," I scowled as he flipped the latch over but I knew it wouldn’t hold anything back.
There was a creak from the door, and it bowed slightly as if something had leaned against it outside. We tossed ourselves at the door and tried to barricade it with our bodies. Jason howled as the fear finally reached him and ran up the stairs in panic.
"Jason get down here! Damn you!” I yelled as loud as I could.
"Not too many places for him to go," Steven said. "This is the only way out."
Something very strong was leaning against the door and it was harder to keep it closed.
"Get the flares out of the cabinet," I said.
"What?"
"The flares! Get 'em! Whoever is out there will be in here sooner or later and Trevor's pistols are too far away," I said as cold sweat ran down my face.
“It is getting harder to breath," Steven gasped.
I’m not sure if he said anything after that, or even if I said anything, but I know he caught the look on my face and followed my gaze. From a cracked window high in the wall, covering it like a vine, darkness had entered the room. It was black, pure darkness, and it ran in several long, thin streams from the window in each direction.
"Get the flares," I mumbled without looking at him.
"You cannot push on this door alone, Fletcher; it's too strong for that."
"Look up there. Look through the window and look what's coming in. That's what's pushing against that door." I didn’t understand it but I knew in my soul I was right.
A stream of darkness had crossed most of the room and was breaking up above the door to the stairway, forming an arch around it. A large cabinet that sat near the window was completely covered by darkness and was lost in shadow. Nothing could be seen where it had stood.
"Let's go," I said after forcing myself to swallow.
"What? Where to?"
"I can still see the light from the stairs so I'd bet it's safe up there, for awhile at least."
"The lantern room," Steven cried. "We can call for help from up there by sending up an emergency flare. Are you ready?"
I nodded and together we ran for the stairs, ducking under the arch of darkness as we passed beneath it. I glanced back through the arch very quickly and saw that the door had opened just barely.
We ran as fast as we could, sometimes jumping two stairs at a time, until we reached the lantern room
“Where the hell is Jason?” Steven asked but I think he knew what had happened.
We both turned to go back down into the crew room to find Jason when a bone chilling scream from below told us what had happened. We both shook our heads and slammed the door closed behind us. We locked it even though we doubted it mattered.
We relieved to see that the lamp was still projecting. It was rotating steadily, but its light only reached a few dozen meters from the catwalk and faded away. It wasn’t a cloud, and it wasn’t fog; it was empty darkness. By the time we got to the catwalk it was even closer. There should have been light coming from someplace; shadows o
n the rocks, a reflection on the water, maybe even a small light from the coast. There was nothing. Only a few feet of the exterior wall of the lighthouse could be seen below us.
Steven grabbed a flare from the emergency cabinet near the door, placed it on the muzzle of the flare pistol, and fired it from the catwalk. We both felt our hearts skip a few beats as it was swallowed.
"Trevor was right! Trevor was right and he didn't even know it," I said as a strange calmness fell over me. I stopped breathing heavily and wiped the sweat away. I couldn’t explain it but I was no longer afraid.
Steven called to me and together we ran back into the lantern room. Darkness was growing into the room between the cracks in the wooden floor. Barely stepping over it we came to a halt, but a stream separated us. Steven was just inside the room and I was trapped on the catwalk outside.
"Wherever it is that we're going Fletcher, good luck!" Steven said and I thought how his American accent sounded rather pleasant.
Steven tried to jump across the stream and onto the catwalk but in doing so he slipped into a shadow, and tripped over something in the darkness. He rolled over the edge of the catwalk, and was gone.
“Same to you, my friend," I said softly, looking down.
The darkness swirled onto the catwalk and I backed to the rail. It halted near my feet. Its flow had changed. It had risen inside the lantern room and was now nearly up to the wick. The darkness encircled the lamp and poured into the device drowning it. The lamp went dead.
Darkness.
Silence.
Darkness.
FREAK TOWN
by
Jeffrey Hale
Chapter 1
There was no place quite like Stone Creek. Nestled in the rolling hills of southwest Colorado, the town was virtually untouched by the hands of time. Sure, there were computers and incandescent light bulbs and all forms of modern technology, but the heart of the town was unchanged. It was a tight-knit community, where everybody knew everybody and everybody knew everybody else’s business—without snooping through the mail. A town where everything was black and white, right and wrong, and Missus Cleaver sat on the porch and said hello to passersby.
Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation Page 6