The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse

by Jack Dey

  The commander leaned back in his chair as if he was coming to a decision. “This constitutes a gross violation of basic maritime practices. The captain, if known, would be liable to prosecution in a maritime court of law and have his master's certificate removed!”

  Lewis’ eyes sparkled, for retribution would be sweet and this cutter captain would never tangle with Jonathon Lewis again. However, his daydreaming was soon interrupted by the commander’s voice, breaking into his vengeful thoughts.

  “Do you have a name, sir?!” the commander repeated.

  “I have not been able to identify the culprit, but my crew captured part of the cutter’s designation as it came close. It was something like Bellious.”

  The commander abruptly and violently slid his chair back, making a hollow scraping noise on the wooden floor and shocking Lewis by the move. With his mouth hanging open and glaring down at Lewis, the commander’s incredulous demand added a new dimension of surprise to the Riviera’s captain.

  “Are you aiming to tell me the cutter’s name is Rebellious?” Draper's jowls fluttered like a snoring bull dog.

  Lewis’ face showed all the signs of contempt as he returned the commander’s glare towering from a position standing over him. “My crew saw only part of the name, sir, and that was considered to be by the majority of observers, Bellious. I cannot tell you the complete name, but perhaps Rebellious would suit the cutter captain’s actions.”

  Bewildered, but not convinced by the captain’s account, the commander flopped back into his chair, his well padded face alight with indignation and intrigue as he tried coming to terms with the captain's statement and his possible reasoning for making it.

  Then in a low, flat monotone, Draper attempted to convey the seriousness of Lewis’ charge and peered across his desk with accusing eyes. “Captain Lewis, Rebellious has been missing now for three months. She was overdue in port and when she didn’t show altogether, everyone believed she had fallen afoul of Black Dean.”

  Watching for Lewis’ reaction, Draper studied the Riviera’s captain, searching for signs of treachery, but Lewis’ confused expression shot holes in the credence to his claim, conceding the commander was now considering him a prankster or a lunatic. Abruptly the table had turned and now the suspicion fell on Lewis, leaving the cutter captain as a shadowy phantom in Draper’s mind and Lewis’ reputation called into question among the very authority figure’s good opinion he sort to gain.

  “Do you still mean to tell me, Captain Lewis, you have sighted this cutter and in fact, have nearly had a collision with her?” Draper glared, giving Lewis a chance to change his story and trap himself.

  Lewis’ moment of grandeur had quickly evaporated and turned into pandemonium. Instead of being the injured party, the commander appeared to be making him out to be the villain. “My crew observed everything and they were the ones who saw the cutter’s name. Ask them,” Lewis replied defensively, trying to deflect the suspicion on to his crew.

  *~*~*~*

  Lewis’ head ached as he stood on the bridge of the Riviera considering the morning's business with the commander. The interview had gone horribly wrong and now the whole affair would be documented, leaving a black mark of suspicion over his squeaky clean record. Lewis chided himself for letting things get out of hand and tried to prevent a stain against his impeccable record by withdrawing the charge. But the commander, understanding the vessel was about to leave port, immediately set about to interview the crew and get to the bottom of the incredulous claim. With the ship’s company validating their captain’s testimony, Draper was drawn deeper into the official mystery and he warned Lewis at a future date both he and his team would be required to testify before a maritime court. With a tense knot biting aggressively at his stomach walls, Lewis found it difficult to concentrate on the ship’s routine.

  After the day’s fiasco, Lewis tried to shake off the bizarre encounter and re-engage on the vessel’s tight schedule to leave Lightning Harbour, having been confined to port for nearly eighteen hours. To make things worse, the unimpressed duke ranted and raved about being behind time, threatening Lewis with dismissal and adding to the captain’s burgeoning workload. He hadn’t had time to check the passenger list or confirm whether the necessary supplies had come aboard, and relied entirely on his first mate to accomplish these tasks efficiently. With the mooring lines still attached to the dock and glancing at the bridge clock, Lewis’ stress was reaching dangerous levels, realising the time had already registered 1700, with an hour’s steaming time still ahead and Barrett Passage and Black Dean laying in wait.

  Lewis exploded. “Why haven’t we left yet?!”

  The ship’s company hustled under their captain’s temper, with the gangways quickly pushed clear and the rear securing lines hurriedly thrown off. As the last tether dropped clear of the bow bollard, the Riviera floated free, sounding its horn and turning her bow for the open sea while cautiously heading out of Lightning Harbour.

  Once the harbour heads had been breached and the open swells aggressively rocked the vessel, Lewis ordered all ahead full, with the Riviera shuddering until her hull adjusted to full power and then settled into a brisk pace. About to boil over again, Lewis flounced toward the chart table, scanning the maps laid out and only now did he have time to study the dilemma he had been forced into. High tide would reach its peak at 1900 and it would be a nine foot surge, unusually high water for these parts. That meant the run in had already turned from its lowest point and was fast heading toward its top. Sunset was determined for 1750, adding another dimension of worry while at the current rate, the Barrett Passage would quickly become dark, invisible and impassable; but delaying their journey another twelve hours was out of the question, while they waited for daylight and low tide to come around again. Lewis worried, with such a big tide it may already be too late and with no local knowledge to guide him, he had no way of knowing. Tussling with turning back, Lewis could feel the hot, seething ire of the duke breathing down his neck, singeing his hair with a burning tirade and prompting a decision.

  Black Dean was the lesser of the two evils.

  *~*~*~*

  The duke had been busy in a constant round of business meetings with the gentry of Lightning Harbour, but he’d declined their dinner invitations. Even though these people claimed to be cut from the same genteel fabric, the duke did not consider them of the same standing. Accepting an invitation to dine with this type was akin to eating with barnyard animals and he was glad to be underway, after giving Captain Lewis a piece of his mind and mildly explaining Lewis’ tardiness.

  The duke’s relaxed thoughts turned to Katrina, realising he hadn’t seen her since she’d forced him to slap some ladylike sense back into her young foolish head and true to form, she would be sulking somewhere in her cabin. The duke, bored with the company gathering in the VIP lounge, decided to visit the lodgings of his daughter and put an end to her childish behaviour. Outside an elegant passageway window, the late afternoon sun painted the ocean a winsome red-blue, and with the duke pleased by the results of his dealings in Lightning Harbour, a jovial mood played with his mind and he almost smiled.

  Arriving at Katrina’s cabin, he attempted to enter but it was locked. “Katrina, stop this childishness and let me in!”

  No answer.

  “If you intend to disobey me further, I will have the purser open this door and there will be more than a slap to contend with!”

  The duke’s jovial mood quickly evaporated and turned to rage. “Have it your way, young lady!” Gruffly, he spun on his heels and flounced down the passage, intent on seeking out the purser’s key and restoring order... his way.

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 15

  "K-atie...! K-atie...! It’s almost time. You know who this is, don’t you?" a familiar whispered timbre echoed into her imagining, drawing a contented giggle as she danced up and down the stairs of her protected home.

  Until another muffled tone tickled her ears, sing
ing a song of joy over her and playing a delighted tune on her heartstrings. "K-atie...! I love y-o-u.”

  The whisper twisted around contentment’s spiralling staircase and disappeared into the safe reaching space above her head, mingling with the constant whir of machinery and protected from the storm’s roaring gale. But then... another sound interrupts. A sound she doesn’t recognise and it’s calling from the door... the only door... an impenetrable door.

  The falter of a footstep echoes on the hard concrete surface, crushing the sand under his creeping advance... C-L-I-C-K... The echo reverberates in the quiet, even above the machinery hum, forcing the assailant to pause and wait for a response before taking another calculated step.

  The interruption elongates and hammers the walls of the structure, chilling Katie’s skin and making her heart race. Katie’s breath catches in her throat... No one else is supposed to be in here!

  “Who’s there? PLEASE ANSWER ME! I AM FRIGHTENED!... frightened... frightened...”

  The echo of her own voice mocks her, bouncing off the cavernous space above her head, competing with the wind’s squalling howl and the incessant mechanical drone... but does nothing to displace her fear. The unexpected scent of saltwater and dank air fills the dark, protected chamber, but there is someone else here invading her solitude, someone who is not familiar. She can feel it, but who are they and where are the happy voices?

  “HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!” her voice demands, verging on hysteria and echoes helplessly in the quiet.

  Whoever it is can smell her fear... but they don’t care.

  Crashing and wrenching, her dark chamber explodes into blinding light, filling the doorway with hideous cat-like eyes boring into her very soul.

  Fear.

  Pain.

  Terrible pain.

  Her throat unleashes a chilling... S-C-R-E-A-M!

  *~*~*~*

  “Becky...! Becky...! Wake up!”

  Becky’s confused mind and crazed eyes crashed open, pained by the bedroom light and cowering before an unseen fiend about to engulf her sanity. Watching the parade of horror dancing across Becky’s eyes, Brett pulled her close to his chest, soothing away the trauma and fighting the claws of the nightmare, struggling to remove each grasping talon. Beside herself in fright and with her heart hammering wildly, Becky’s feverish body trembled from the exertion, but no words would come and all Becky could do was whimper in Brett’s safe arms.

  The dream, more intense than usual, had exploded Brett out of a deep sleep when Becky’s scream filled the dark room, leaving Brett frantically searching for the culprit, however, this foe was a unseen enemy, a coward lurking in the fear of an innocent woman. If he’d been real, Brett would have dispatched him cleanly, but this enemy didn’t play fairly or by the rules. It had been almost three months since Becky’s last venture into Katie’s world, and after accepting the doctor’s advice, Brett had supposed that the pregnancy hormones had been the culprit for the latest attack. Rocking Becky gently, the presence of his strong arms brought immediate comfort, slowly chasing away the fear and drawing her back into a safe world.

  Protected in her husband’s arms, Becky lay still and mentally checked around each dark corner of her memory. “It was horrible!” Becky’s raspy whisper croaked into the silence, with her face pressed against Brett’s chest.

  Lifting her face and gazing into her eyes, Brett probed, “Can you tell me about it, honey?”

  Becky’s eyes filled with tears and she buried her face in her husband’s night shirt, shaking her head. “I can’t go there again just now,” her bewildered, muffled voice appeared strangely vulnerable, like a frightened child.

  *~*~*~*

  Set on silent and gagged, but still switched on, Brett’s cell phone flashed and vibrated on the bedside table, using all of its allowable character traits to draw muted attention to an incoming call. After Becky’s nightmare, Brett dozed on and off throughout the remainder of the night, but something had disturbed the uneasy calm and he searched the room, tired and disorientated. The bedside lamp glowed with its protective yellow light, reflected by the lampshade onto the wall and ceiling against the intruding sunlight. Panicking and thinking he was running late for work, Brett grabbed at his watch but then realised it was the weekend, allowing himself a rare break from the busyness of his newspaper world. Settling back with a relieved sigh, he reached for the indignant phone, thinking the weekend edition was experiencing difficulties and at the same time, gently clicked off the bedside lamp. Expecting to deal with newspaper business and not wanting to wake Becky, Brett tiredly strolled out of the sunlit bedroom and into the kitchen, trying to clear his mind.

  “Hello. Brett Redden.”

  “G’day, Boss,” a happy and familiar voice greeted Brett’s ear.

  “Smiley, don’t you ever sleep?” Brett teased, clearing an exhausted croak from his throat.

  “A great snoop never sleeps, Boss,” Smiley’s exuberance at this time of the morning seemed almost unnatural.

  “What’ve you got for me?” Brett probed, thinking Smiley may have stumbled on a breaking news story and from the perky sounds, he’d been up for some time.

  “Arr... you may not like what I have found, Brett. I’ve checked the source through a number of avenues and the report is reliable, but this piece of information is likely to bring more strife into your life. I can just forget it and destroy the record if you would prefer, and life can go on as normal.”

  Brett’s imagination was running wild. What had Smiley found? “I’m afraid life isn’t normal at the moment, Smiley. If the report you’re referring to has something to do with Becky’s dreams, she had another nightmare last night and they seem to be getting worse.”

  Smiley was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know how much of a clue this will be to the nightmares, but it may be a discussion starter to shake down other clues.”

  “You’re talking around in circles, Smiley. Just tell me what you have!”

  “Tell you what, Boss, you take me for lunch on Monday, giving you a couple of days to think, work out whether you can afford a major disruption to your lives at the moment and I’ll get a free meal.”

  Brett sighed with frustration at Smiley’s procrastination and Smiley could sense it.

  “Trust me, Boss. You might thank me later.”

  Brett sighed again, figuring Smiley wasn’t going to move on his conditions. “Okay, Smiley, you win. Lunch on Monday.”

  Brett ended the call and was about to make himself a cup of coffee to ponder Smiley’s strange riddle, when Becky’s voice startled him from behind.

  “Was that Smiley?”

  Brett spun on his heels to meet her voice. “Arr... yes, he was just updating me on some information I asked for. How are you feeling, honey?”

  “Exhausted!”

  “I was just about to make a coffee. Want one?”

  “Mmm, that would be great, honey,” Becky whispered, reaching up to kiss her husband before flopping down tiredly into a kitchen chair. Attempting to lower her head to the table and rest on her arms, her dressing gown tangled around the chair’s legs and stifled the action. Pulling the fabric free with a tug, she lowered her head for a brief rest until the sweet smell of hot coffee enticed her back into a sitting position.

  Brett dragged another kitchen chair up beside his wife and rubbed her back while Becky took a sip from her coffee. Feeling slightly revitalised as the hot liquid warmed her stomach and the muscles in her back began to relax at Brett’s tender touch, she knew he was patiently waiting for an account of her latest dream. With her head resting on her palms and her elbows supported by the table’s wooden strength, she drew in a breath and then exhaled heavily.

  “I have no idea where Katie was this time,” Becky began.

  Brett listened, hesitant at making her relive the fear, but waited for her to gather her thoughts.

  “I think she was in some type of empty structure and it was dark. Katie was alone, but someone
was lurking in the... in the... background somehow. I could smell a dank, salty smell, like sea air shut up in a room. Then the structure broke open somehow and flooded with light and those... those... eyes,” Becky shuddered.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here and you're safe,” Brett rubbed her back reassuringly.

  Becky’s expression glazed over in fright as she stared through the kitchen window, remembering Katie’s haunting scream and the terror of her tormentor’s unnatural eyes.

  Becky seemed to reconnect with reality and then turned to smile at her man. “Katie screamed and then that’s when you woke me. I’d be lost without you, Brett,” she pulled in close to her husband, thankful for his wise and gentle ways and the escape he offered from the harrowing nightmares.

  *~*~*~*

  While Becky napped and tried to catch up on her sleep, Brett took a seat in their tiny lounge room, tussling with Smiley's riddle and Becky’s intensifying dreams. The new episode to Katie’s nightmare adventures was either a step up in potency, or Katie was taking Becky in another direction; but whatever was happening to the strange woman in the dream, somehow Becky was living it as well and it was concerning Brett.

  Was Katie trying to destroy Becky’s mind?

  Helpless to intervene and strongly desiring to put an end to Katie’s visits, Brett found a new determination flooding his veins. Whatever Smiley had found might be a key, but he couldn’t take Smiley’s warning lightly, weighing up the cost against Becky’s sanity and the awful enduring nightmares. He decided to explore Smiley’s findings alone at first, and if need be he would shelter Becky from any destructive revelation, and when he was sure there was a firm positive lead to rid themselves of Katie, then he would bring Becky into the situation.