Promised Soul by Sandra J. Jackson

Author:Sandra J. Jackson [Jackson, Sandra J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2018-04-05T05:00:00+00:00

“Do you think we can go out on to the deck?” I whispered to Peter as our lighthouse guide was explaining the mechanisms of the light to our tour group.

“I hardly think so,” Peter whispered back. “I don't think it's meant for visitors.”

“Well, can you ask? It's not like you don't know the guy.” Peter seemed to know just about everyone we ever encountered.

“Fine, but only after these other people leave.” He sounded exasperated.

We patiently waited and listened to our guide for a few minutes longer. Finally, it was time for us to leave the tower, but Peter and I hung back as the other couple made their way down the stairs.

“Hey mate,” Peter said, clapping the lighthouse guide on the shoulder. “Do you think it'd be alright for us to go out on the deck? She'd like to snap a photo.” He pointed at me.

I smiled and held up the camera clutched in my hand.

“Well…” our guide, I never did catch his name, hesitated, “it's not really allowed, but I suppose… so long as you're careful and not out there long. I'll go down and keep the other two distracted for a bit, but be quick about it.”

“Sure thing,” Peter said, grinning widely.

We followed our guide down the first bit of winding stair and then as he continued down the rest, Peter and I snuck out across the catwalk to the door that would lead us out onto the deck at the back of the tower. The salt air hit me as soon as we opened the door, and we carefully made our way to the front of the deck overlooking the ocean. I looked down at the ground below, immediately getting a little dizzy. I stepped back and pressed up against the tower.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked gently laying his hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, just higher than I thought; here you'll have to take the picture.” I handed him my camera.

“What exactly am I taking a photo of?” he asked taking the camera from my hands.

“Just the view out there.” I pointed to the ocean ahead of us. I couldn't possibly tell him the reason, I wasn't even sure myself, it was just a need.

“Just straight out there?”

“Yes, please.”

“Right then,” he said, turning away from me.

A gust of warm air charged into me – pushing me back up against the lighthouse. It felt as though something slammed me hard and knocked the breath from my lungs. The salt air stung, and I closed my eyes for a moment. My head began to swim, and I felt myself sway. The sounds of the ocean and seabirds mixed into an ear-piercing din, and my hands instinctively covered my ears. All the while I leaned back against the tower, steadying myself. Just as quickly as the wind and noise appeared, it disappeared, leaving nothing but my confusion in its wake.

“There, I hope this is what you're looking for.” Peter turned toward me. “What's the matter?” he placed both his hands on my shoulders and stared into my still tearing eyes.

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