Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation (8 page)

I will get new guitar strings and a jaw for Richards, I will get a new blackboard and chalk for Professor Wilks, and I will buy a harpoon and invest my wealth to bring the streets of Ghostmoth back to life again, for Blick . . . outside I can hear the sharp clank of rusty cans speared on a lightning rod, and a tread that repeats each beat, and I can hear the mad whirring of hornets slaughtering the buzzing flies that prey on Blick’s tattered flesh, Maxwell Blick who disturbs nests.

DARKNESS

by

Bill Albert

When you work in a lighthouse things go from one extreme to another. We’re either going at a pace so slow it feels like time will never end or so fast you blink and you’ve missed a sundown. This day has been one of the slow ones so after I made half hour check on the boiler, it was roaring with flames and well stocked, I decided to walk the 72 steps all the way to the top.

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.