“Hey,” Al yelled after him. “Be careful!”
I love storms. I ran out after Dex. Al tried to grab me but I outmaneuvered him.
“Perry,” he warned. But the twins followed me as well, and Al was more than outnumbered. I turned around and saw him shut the door and peer at us through the window.
The weather was absolutely wild; the gusts were coming in so strong and blunt that it was hard to stay upright at times. It wasn’t raining yet but the air did feel weighted, like it was about to let loose at any moment. Thunder’s mighty rumble shook the sky and the ground beneath us. We waited—spread out on the dark lawn looking toward the ocean—with bated breath for the lightning to show its face. A few seconds later (nine Mississippis to be precise) it forked aggressively from the heavy clouds down to the churning waves on the horizon.
It was during the lightening flash that I saw something I had never seen before. In the distance was a solitary island, shaped like a sharp anvil. On top of that mound was what looked like another lighthouse.
Just like the one I had made up.
I froze, keeping my eyes on the spot even as the strike faded and turned my view back to black.
As the boys made impressed noises at Mother Nature’s display, I waited for the next strike to happen so I could get a better look. It seemed odd that I had never seen that lighthouse out there before and even odder that I was talking about it earlier. Perhaps I had seen it before through the fog and just never consciously recognized it. Perhaps I read it about it in the history books without realizing it.
Thunder shook the air again with even more power than before; its vibrations rattled around in my skull like balls in a washing machine. I started counting and at five Mississippis, the lightning struck.
This time there were several electric branches that forked out, some sideways, heading in the direction of the offshore lighthouse that was now clearly illuminated. There was no denying that it was there.
“The Tillamook Lighthouse,” Dex said. I looked beside me. He was standing to my side and I hadn’t even noticed. His cheekbones were obsidian shadows against the house’s flickering porch light. I couldn’t see his eyes but I could feel them. He was looking at me, not the lightning show.
“Like that story you made up,” he said without emotion. “We should go do this. Now.”
As he said it, another huge gust of forceful wind knocked me off my feet a little and the thunder growled again, only closer now. It was definitely a sign from God that we should not be traipsing off to the lighthouse, but Dex had already turned and was running back into the house.
“Get some better clothes and shoes on,” he yelled over his shoulder, and went into the house. Matt and Tony decided to go back in too.
“You guys are fucking crazy,” Tony said as he walked past me. Matt gave me a shove to get me walking with them. He leaned in.
“I agree,” he said. “Watch yourself.”
This was probably the first time I had ever seen my cousins act remotely brotherly towards me. I wasn’t sure if now, of all times, was the best time for them to start.
***
Once again, Dex and I were heading up the beach toward the lighthouse. But it was already a million times different from the way it was in the afternoon.
For one reason, we had half the equipment. The tripod, sound gear, and lighting were all left behind. Dex had his camera on his shoulder and that was it.
For two, we were surrounded by complete darkness. The moon was in a permanent grave somewhere in that tumultuous sky, and the only light we had was from the lightning as it moved further north of us and inland. Its flashes were growing weaker and farther apart. Lightning wasn’t exactly the most pleasant light to find your way by.
For three, we were in the midst of an increasingly violent storm. Rain started to fall sporadically, though we were spared the brunt of a total downpour thus far. The gusts of wind came stronger and more furious by the minute until it felt like the entire contents of the beach were lodged in my hair. Not to mention the number of times it knocked me down into the sand. And I’m no lightweight.
Luckily, the first few times that my boots couldn’t grip on the slippery, sliding dunes, Dex was there to grab my arm and steady me. My iPhone light was completely useless at this point, and I had to put it away, in case kernels of sand got lodged in there forever.
Dex still had a flashlight he had borrowed from Al. It was dinky and fading fast, but it was still a source of light. There was the bulb on his camera as well, but that would be a last resort. Considering Dex said he paid for all of his equipment himself, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t pull out his camera until we were inside the lighthouse and safe from the elements.
Seconds after brushing away Dex’s hand in the dark (he was trying to steady me, don’t get any interesting ideas), I found myself losing my footing again. The wind howled into my side and the tip of my left boot got tangled up in the strewn dune grass.
I lofted forward in slow motion and face planted into the sand. It didn’t hurt but that didn’t stop me from feeling stupid.
I breathed sand for a few before pushing myself off of the ground and onto my butt. My vision was black ink. I could barely see my hand in front of me, especially as the storm was constantly blowing my hair in my face. Even my yellow pea coat, chosen for its bright and eye-catching properties, was a hazy, grainy grey outline.
I expected Dex to give me a hand any moment. But I didn’t sense Dex near me anymore.
“Dex?” I said tentatively. My voice was barely audible in the wind. Hair flew in my mouth. It tasted like old fish.
“Dex!” I cried out louder. I listened hard, holding my breath. I could only hear the howling wind and the faint thump of waves carried on it.
With great care, I got to my feet, keeping as low to the ground as possible. It was so disorienting being in the dark with no idea whatsoever what way was east or west, where the lighthouse was, where the house was, or where Dex was. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I started to panic.
The lightning struck again in the distance. It was not enough to light up anything near me but at least I could deduce which way was north—I was facing it.
I turned around, knowing that I had to go south and up a slight cliff if I wanted to get to the lighthouse. That’s where Dex had to be. He had the flashlight after all.
And I had my phone. I brought it out of my pocket and turned on the flashlight app, but unless the light was less than a foot away, I couldn’t see dick.
Step by unsteady step, I walked forward, periodically calling out Dex’s name, until the unstable sand left my feet and I felt hard, sloping terrain. It felt like I was walking up the same area as I had the week before.
I scrambled up the slope, grasping the wet grass and loose rocks until I finally found myself on top of the cliff.
I paused to catch my breath and then made a few quick steps forward in case I got lazy and took a wrong step too close to the edge.
Now what? The ground was mercifully level, but I was still extremely blind. You’d think my night vision would have kicked in, but the most I could see was the shadow of my hand in front of my face.
“Dex! Please, where are you?” I screamed. I did not want to sound panicky, but I felt like I would experience a massive panic attack if I did not find him, the lighthouse, or some sign of humanity soon.
I closed my eyes for ten seconds and counted down.
I hoped that when I opened them my night vision would be a bit better. The scary thing was, aside from the shelter my eyelids provided from the drying wind, there wasn’t much difference between having my eyes open or closed.
When I hit zero, I slowly opened them and prayed they would adjust to the dark. There was none of that. Everything looked the same.
Except...
There was a light. I swear there was. Unless my eyes were playing tricks on me.
I squinted—in what direction I wasn’t sure—but off in the distance, there was a warmish glow and it flickered rapidly.
I awkwardly started walking toward it. My legs took careful steps as my arms swung out in front of me in case I walked into something. Or someone.
I pushed all creepy thoughts out of my head and kept my eyes focused on the light. The more I walked, the closer the light became until I was sure it was a campfire of some sort.
Who would light a campfire at a time like this? I didn’t know. Maybe it was Dex trying to get my attention.
I was close now. The ground changed into a leaf-littered path. I felt drips on my shoulders and noticed the wind had died down. It was still blowing steadily but funneled somehow. I was in the forest. Not a good place to be, but the light was only a few yards away.
I couldn’t make it out until I was right on top of it. It wasn’t a campfire at all but a lantern of some sort that was hanging from the branch of a dead tree. The lamp had lit up the closest trunks and left the rest of the woods in eerie shadow.
The lamp was unlike anything I had ever seen in real life. It looked exactly like an oil lamp from a history book.
I plucked it off of the branch and held it above my sore eyes. The glass was tall and shaped like a chimney, old, smudged and burnt in places. The base was heavy and made of metal, with a small adjustable knob on the side. Inside the flame was a clear, bright yellow. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in any gothic novel, but here, in a beachside forest, it didn’t gel.
Crack.
A branch broke behind me. I whirled around, totally ready to throw the stinky lamp in someone’s face.
But there was no one there. I shone the light in the direction of the noise but only saw deepening darkness.
I felt the immense unknown behind me. I whirled around to the other side. I hadn’t heard anything but had that feeling that you get when you’re watching a scary movie and the person goes into the dark room without checking the corners or behind them. You know that the minute you focus too much on what’s in front of you, something comes up and snatches you from behind.
To say I was terrified was an understatement. My arms and legs were tingling with a mad case of goose bumps. My breath was getting shorter by the second. I didn’t want to stay in that forest a second longer, but the open plain and roaring ocean didn’t seem like a great alternative.
The only thing I could suss out was that this path in the woods was, in fact, a road. I crouched down and examined the leaves. There were faint marks of muddy tire tracks on some parts of them and the path was wide enough for a car to drive down.
Maybe if I followed the road away from the beach, I would come across a main road or, even better yet, a house. Then I could call my uncle and get picked up.
But who was I kidding? Why didn’t I just call my uncle right now?
Excited, I carefully placed the lamp back on the dead tree’s limb and fished out my phone. I could call him to explain what happened and where I thought I was and everything would be fine.
Then there was Dex. I should probably wait around and see if I could find him. Better yet, I could call him too.
I dialed Dex’s cell number and put the phone to my ear.
It rang twice, then a click.
“Who is this?”
My blood ran cold. The voice belonged to a woman. She sounded like an old Ingrid Bergman.
