The Lighthouse

by Amy Cross

  And that's when I see her.

  Down on the tracks, there's a woman standing completely still with her eyes fixed on me. I stop as soon as I spot her, and it takes just a fraction of a second before I realize that I've seen her before.

  She was in my bedroom back at the house, at the exact moment when the door hit my father's head.

  Slipping through the crowd, I try to make my way to the edge of the platform. The train has slowed as it pulls in, but it's moving inexorably toward the girl, as if the driver hasn't noticed her at all. She's making no attempt to get out of the way, either, as if she hasn't noticed death creeping up over her shoulder. Even at its slowing pace, the train would easily crush her.

  “Stop!” I call out, although an announcement over the PA drowns out my voice. “Hey! Get up!”

  No-one else around me is reacting to the girl at all, although I hear “Watch it!” and “Careful!” aimed at me a few times as I push with increasing desperation to get through the crowd. Several times I'm shoved along, unable to fight against the flow, but finally I get to the edge of the platform just as the train slips past. I start struggling back through the crowd, and at the very last moment I spot the girl still down on the track before the train moves straight over her and finally comes to a halt just a few meters further along. I stop and stare in horror, waiting to hear screams, but the only sound is the beeping of the automatic doors as they slide open, and then the rush of people hurrying out of the train.

  No-one else seems to have noticed what just happened.

  Making my way along the platform, I reach the front of the train and see the driver in his cab, making some notes on a clipboard. I look down at the gap between the carriage and the platform itself, half expecting to see blood, but there's no sign of the girl at all. Still, I know she was down there and there's no way she got up in time, and there's no room on the other side of the train. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I bang on the window, trying to get the driver's attention.

  He turns to me and frowns for a moment, before waving me away.

  I bang again, and this time he climbs up from his seat and comes over to the door. There's a single beeping sound before the door slides out and open.

  “You can't -” he begins.

  “You went over someone,” I stammer breathlessly, feeling a growing sense of panic.

  He stares at me for a moment. “I what?”

  “Didn't you see her?”

  “See who?”

  “There was a girl standing right there,” I continue, stepping back and pointing down under the train. “She was staring at me, she was on the tracks and you drove over her just before you stopped.”

  “There wasn't anyone down there,” he replies, sounding annoyed. “Listen, kid -”

  “I saw her!” I hiss, trying not to freak out. “I saw it happen!”

  “You don't think I'd have noticed if there was someone on the tracks?” he asks.

  “I don't know how it happened,” I tell him, “but I saw her!” Staring down at the gap between the train and the platform, I feel a shiver pass through my body as I imagine the girl slowly slipping beneath the wheels, her body being ground up and sliced against the steel rails. There wasn't even a scream, there was no sound at all, but I know what I saw. “You have to do something!” I shout, turning to the driver. People are stopping nearby now, as if they've overheard me. “You hit someone!”

  The driver mutters something under his breath as he leans back into the cab, and after a moment I see that he's grabbed a radio from the counter. He seems more bored and annoyed than worried.

  “Unit one-fifteen to control,” he says with a hint of caution in his voice. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I need someone to come down to platform nine and help out with a situation.”

  ***

  “The 18:21 service to Port Logan is currently delayed at platform nine,” the announcer states, his voice crackling slightly over the PA system. “We'll bring you more information as soon as we have it.”

  Standing next to the driver's cab, I watch as three station attendants crouch at the front of the train, looking under the carriages so they can inspect the area around the wheels. They've got torches, shining their beams of light to get a better look, but I can tell from their muttered remarks to one another that so far they haven't spotted anything. One of them glances at me briefly, his eyes filled with frustration, and it's clear that they've already written me off as some kind of trouble-making fantasist.

  “She's down there,” I whisper, as another chill passes through my chest. “I'm not making it up.”

  Next to me, the driver sighs.

  “Didn't you feel anything?” I ask, turning to him. “You went right over her!”

  “If this is a joke,” he mutters, thunder-faced as he watches the attendants down on the track, “you need to find another way to pass the time. This kind of thing isn't funny.” He turns to me. “It's sick.”

  “I know what I saw,” I tell him, even though deep down I'm starting to feel a few doubts. A moment later, I watch as the attendants start climbing up, and I can already guess what they're going to say.

  “There's no-one under there,” the first guy mutters, clearly unimpressed as he starts dusting himself down. “Not a soul.”

  “I swear I saw someone,” I tell him, feeling as if no-one here believes me.

  “Must've been a trick of the light, then,” he replies, as the radio around his belt crackles into life. “We appreciate you taking the time to tell someone,” he continues, clearly sounding as if he appreciates no such thing, “but obviously you were mistaken.” He pats the driver's shoulder. “Okay Joe, you're good to go. I think you've got a lot of angry passengers back there waiting to get home.”

  “I know what I saw,” I tell the driver as he sighs and steps back into his cab. “Do you really think I would've said anything if I wasn't certain?”

  Ignoring me, he hits a button and the door slides shut. I step back, my mind swimming as I try to make sense of everything that just happened. Realizing that I'm in danger of getting stranded in Glasgow for the night, I hurry to the next door and step into the carriage, only to be met by a sea of annoyed faces. It's clear that everyone on-board knows I'm the one who caused the delay, and I'm pretty damn sure they must think I'm an idiot.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the driver announces over the speaker system, “I'm pleased to say we can finally get going. We're just waiting for a signal. I apologize for the completely unnecessary delay.”

  Slumping down into an empty seat, I take a deep breath as the train starts moving and then picks up speed as it heads out of the station. When I close my eyes, I immediately see the girl's face again, staring at me as the train slid over her. I keep telling myself that I must have imagined the whole thing, that maybe living alone in the house for a few weeks was enough to make me go just a little crazy, but at the same time the girl's face was too clear this time, too distinct, and her gaze was fixed on me as if she was appearing solely for my benefit.

  Opening my eyes, I left my body gently rock with the motion of the train. Whatever's going on, I can't wait to leave it all behind and get to the lighthouse. At least there I can maybe relax a little.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Today

  With rain falling all around and the storm still raging, I step closer to the generator building until finally I reach the doorway and stare through to the darkness inside. I can't see anything, not without any lights, but I can tell deep down that something is watching me from in there. It's as if somehow our heartbeats have synchronized.

  “I saw you,” I say after a moment, hesitating to actually go inside. “I know you're real and I know you're here, and I think I know why you're here too. You were warning me, weren't you? You wanted me to stay away from this place.”

  I wait.

  There's no sound apart from the waves on the nearby shore, and all I feel is a cold wind rippling against my clothes.

  “
I think I know who you are,” I continue. “I didn't believe you could be real, not at first, but now...” With tears in my eyes, I take a cautious step through the doorway into the building's cold interior. “Please,” I add, “I just want to get away from this place, and then I want to get help, so he can't hurt anyone else. I want to -”

  That's when I see her. Just the faintest hint of a face, barely visible in the darkness straight ahead. I blink a couple of times, convinced that it's a trick of the light, but finally I realize that it's really her. She sinks back, as if she understands that I recognize her, but I take a step forward, determined to not let her go this time. Feeling a twist of pain on my right hand, I run my fingers across the palm and realize that I really mashed the skin up earlier when I fell, but there's no time to worry about that right now. Even the pain in my ankle feels unimportant.

  “Are you...” I pause, staring at the faint, blurred face in the darkness. “Are you really what I think you are?”

  I wait for a reply.

  Nothing.

  “Please,” I continue after a moment, feeling as if this is my last chance, “I know everything. Or I know enough to understand what happened to you. We can stop all of this, but I have to get off the island and go get help, do you understand? If I don't go and get help, this is just going to keep happening over and over until...”

  I watch as she slowly raises a hand to her face. With careful precision, she places two fingertips against her eyes and slips her thumb under her chin, and then she tilts her head slightly to one side.

  “I don't understand,” I tell her. “Please, I just -”

  Suddenly I realize that I can hear, above the sound of rain on the tin roof, something clicking and cracking as the woman pulls on her own face. In the low light, it takes a moment before I realize that her fingers are dipping into her eye sockets now, and her features seem to be becoming distorted, as if...

  Slowly, she starts to pull away a section of her face, taking part of her skull with it. Thick, gooey strands of mucus drip down from the growing gap, until I see two perfectly round, yellowing eyeballs staring at me from the meat of her face. Her left hand holds the flesh of her face out toward me, as if she wants me to do something with it.

  And then she screams.

  And that's when I remember the very first time I saw her, all those years ago.

  Before I can react, I feel an arm reach around from behind and pull me back by the neck, while the blade of a hunting knife slices through my shoulder-blades and out through my chest..

  “There you are,” he hisses, leaning close to my ear. “Exactly how far did you really think you could get?”

  I try to pull free, but I can feel the blade impaling me, grinding against my ribs. There's not much pain, but I can feel a sense of shock pulsing through my body, as if my heart is about to burst at any moment. Reaching back, I manage to grab Matthew's head and I try to dig my fingertips into his flesh, but I've bitten my nails to the quick and I can barely scratch him at all.

  “Nice try,” he says, slowly easing my body to the ground before resting me against the dirty, wet concrete. “You're a sprightly one, Penny. You definitely gave me the runaround.” With that, he starts slipping the knife out of my back, and I feel the serrated blade juddering against my bones until the tip leaves my body. Shuddering on the floor, I try to get up as Matthew steps over me, but all I can do is watch in horror as he crouches down and takes a key from his pocket, which he uses to open the padlock on the hatch. Reaching down, he grabs hold of the hatch's edge and pulls it open, revealing the darkness beneath.

  Gasping, I turn and look toward the spot where I saw the woman a moment ago, but there's no sign of her. I try to drag myself toward the open door, but just as I fall out into the rain and mud Matthew grabs me by the collar and pulls me back. I cry out, but I'm powerless to stop him as he hauls me up and leans close to my face.

  “You wanted to know what's in there so bad?” he sneers. “Fine. Go find out for yourself.”

  I try to scream, but he slams his knee into my belly and then turns me around before shoving me in the back. I fall forward, clattering against the edge of the hatch and then tumbling down into the darkness. I land hard on what feels like several firm objects, but before I can get up I hear the hatch being closed several feet above me. I look up just in time to see the door being sealed shut, and then I hear the padlock being put back in place.

  “No!” I scream, stumbling to my feet despite the pain in my chest and ankle. I reach up, but I can barely get my fingertips to touch the underside of the hatch and after a moment I lose my footing and slip back down. Rain water is flowing down into the darkness at a steady rate, and I start fumbling around, trying to work out what's beneath me. It feels like I'm on a pile of bags, maybe garbage, but everything feels slightly soft and after a moment I realize that there's some kind of slime between my fingers. Unable to see anything, I crawl forward for a few feet before bumping into the brick wall, and then I turn and start to crawl back before, suddenly, the fingers of my right hand run against a familiar shape.

  I freeze, telling myself that it can't be true, but as I move my fingers gently, I realize they're touching a human face.

  “No,” I whisper, feeling as if my chest is tightening to an extreme degree. I reach around, but my hands quickly run across a couple more faces and then over what feels like a shoulder. Pulling back, I set my hands down again and feel something much harder, and it takes a few seconds before I realize it's a piece of bone.

  Looking up, I can just about make out the small piece of the hatch that I managed to break off earlier, with rainwater running through and splattering down onto the corpses all around me.

  “Let me out of here!” I scream, as I feel my own hot blood running down my chest. “You can't leave me here! Let me out!”

  Chapter Twenty

  The torrential rain continues all night, pouring down into the hatch and causing the water level to slowly rise. There must be some cracks in the floor or something, because the level doesn't rise as high as it should, but it's still around my waist by the time the first light of dawn starts to appear through the hole above. After hours spent shivering and alone in darkness, I'm finally able to see the horrors that surround me.

  There must be seven or eight bodies down here, all naked and in various states of decay as they float gently in the muddy water. Some have discernible features still, to the extent that I can see whether they were male or female, what color hair they had, and in one case I can even see a smudged tattoo on a woman's shoulder. Others, however, are in a much worse state, with flesh and meat floating away from their gray bones and pieces of yellowy-white organic matter floating through the brothy water. There are tiny particles, too, no doubt pieces of meat that have sloughed off the bodies as they soaked. As the light continues to grow, I can see several dead faces just below the water's surface, and one of them is even turned in my direction, as if it's looking right at me. Its tattered eyelids are floating half loose, and one eyeball seems to have partially collapsed and begun to slip out.

  I'm in the corner, with my back against the wall. There's no way to get out of the water, of course, and I've forced myself to not look straight down. At least that way, I can't see what I'm perching on, even though it's undoubtedly part of another corpse. Rain is still falling, but there seems to be a hint of sunlight now and the worst of the storm appears to be passing. I'm shivering as my freezing wet clothes cling to my body, but the pain in my ankle and chest is curiously flat. I honestly don't know whether that's a good thing or not. Maybe it means I'm not as badly hurt as I thought, or maybe it means my body's starting to shut down. I just wish I could stop shivering; my teeth are chattering so loudly, they're the only thing I can hear.

  When the rain finally stops, I start to realize that I only have two choices: either I sit here and wait for Matthew to do whatever he wants with me, or I find a way out. The hatch above is barely within reaching distance, but I doubt I cou
ld break through even if I could get up there. I know I should be coming up with a plan, I should be working out how to get the hell out of here, but in truth I can feel my mind starting to becoming numb, and all I can think about is the dead bodies in the water all around me. Plus, my teeth are chattering so hard now, it's as if they're causing my brain to shake. Every few minutes I glance down at another dead face in the water and try to imagine myself if I stay in here. I'll just end up floating like all the rest, but I don't know how I can possibly get out. Even when I had the hammer, I was only able to -

  Stopping suddenly, I feel a moment of clarity in my mind.

  The hammer.

  I used it earlier to break part of the hatch away, but I had to stop when I lost my grip and it slipped from my hand and fell though the gap, which means...

  I look at the water all around as I realize that the hammer must have fallen down here, which means it's somewhere under the surface with all the bodies.

  Ignoring all thoughts of horror, I lunge forward, splashing through the foul water as I reach down and search for the hammer. A moment ago I could barely even dare to think about the bodies, but now my hands are fumbling under the surface, desperately trying to find the one item that might help me to get out. I slip my hands beneath putrefied, rotten corpses, pulling old bones out of the way as my search continues. There'll be time to be sick and horrified later, but right now I only care about finding the hammer. Slipping on my knees, I fall forward, crashing into the water and swallowing some of the foul human soup, but I immediately sit up and keep searching, clambering over the corpses. After several minutes I still haven't found anything, but my desperation is growing and I know I can't give up, not until -

  Suddenly my fingers brush against something hard and cold. It takes a moment longer, but with a rush of relief I finally pull the hammer up and hold it in the morning sunlight.