Turn of the Tide | ONC 2023

[13] End of the Road

    Whether it was through sheer determination or some mystical power held within the lighthouse key in her pocket, Sally marched through the flooded village without breaking down under the storm's strikes. At first, she thought it was blind luck that no cluster of rubble or fragmenting wall tumbled into her path. Her mind flipped as a white-hot bolt of lightning tore through the trunk of a tree behind her, riving it apart with smoking charred scars. Magical or not, Sally knew she was living a charmed life, and hurried herself across the crumbling streets before the charm wore off.

    Rushing was difficult in such poor light, yet Sally preferred not seeing the extent of the damage done to her home. The snatched glimpses that threw themselves at her feet revealed more than enough in their fallen walls, detached rooves, and drifting vehicles for her to fill in the intervals between the scenes. Her own feet sank too far beneath the murky waters for her to see, and the frigid cold that gripped her socks reminded her how poor her slip-on shoes were for fording streams. She made a note to ask for some boots next time she borrowed clothes from anybody.

    As the light lingering over her head drew ever closer, a tinny rattle bled through the brief breaks between the wind's cries. Suddenly, the clang of metal against metal shocked the air. "Wasting my time! I've had enough!" a man bellowed, and Sally did not need to see him to know it was Damien, his clothes sealed to his body by rain. He ran a hand through his messy hair and looked through the porthole of the lighthouse's gate, body leaning towards the stairway into the tower.

    Sally kept her distance from the man. "Folk aren't allowed in there," she said, one arm raised against the rain. "Especially not strangers."

    "You again? I told you to stay out of this," Damien snapped, cooling as soon as she refused to flinch at his rage. "I know I'm not supposed to get in, but that didn't stop her. She's in there, I saw the keeper let her in!"

    "Her name is Flick." One breath straightened Sally's posture, another carried her to the space between Damien and the gate, and a final puff of air gave her the words she needed to meet his eye. "If Flick gave you the camera, would you leave her alone?"

    Damien's eye twitched as she spoke, yet if her words stoked his anger again, he tried hard to contain it. "After all this? No way. I want the camera and I want her to leave my sister's memory in peace. I never want to hear from her again!"

    The cold key bit into Sally's thigh, yet she continued to leave it in her pocket. "What if you found out she and your sister really were friends?" she asked, tensing her muscles on the spot. "What if Flick's grief is real after all?"

    A hiss sharp enough to slice through the storm left Damien's tongue. "That's ridiculous, it's all lies."

    "But what if it's not?" Sally pushed off the gate and towards Damien, her face turned up to his. "If she was Miranda's friend like she says, she should be allowed to miss her too, don't you think?"

    After a long, pained sigh, Damien shrugged. "Fine. If, somehow, she was so close to my sister without me or anybody else in our family knowing about it, then...yes, I guess she would deserve that." He ran a hand over his stubble, his eyes narrowing as if in discomfort. "Doesn't matter, though. She's locked herself up in this stupid lighthouse, and I doubt she's coming out soon."

    Sally stared up at the light overhead, hovering alone over little more than frothing waves and impassable sea rocks. "End of the road," she muttered to herself as she held out the key in front of her. Turning to catch Damien's eye, she tried to keep a soft smile on against the rough winds. "Maybe this is just the place you both needed."

    As Damien caught sight of the key, Sally unlocked the gate and stepped onto the lighthouse path, holding the passage open. He followed her through without a word, and together they mounted the steps into the lighthouse.