Rib Bone Jack: The Poacher's Path by John Williamson

Author:John Williamson [Williamson, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-06T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Visibility was poor enough for Jack to cross the open ground between the dunes and the area of large rocks, on the beach. These rocks marked the beginning of the rocky outcrop, which stretched for the best part of a mile out into the deeper water.

As he reached the rocks, he heard a man’s voice shouting from the old fisherman’s shed, by the track. He couldn’t make out what he said, but he could tell it wasn’t directed at him.

He was now tantalisingly close to the lighthouse; only twenty yards or so, from the single massive rock which it was constructed upon. Yet those twenty yards were beyond dangerous. Even when the tide was out and the sun warmed the rocks, the path was slippery. A layer of algae coated the rocks, allowing a man’s feet to slide from under him with the greatest of ease. For a hand rail, a long length of thick rope stretched from the lighthouse itself, across the rocky path, to the rocks on the beach.

As Jack took the rope in his hand to attempt the crossing, he heard more distant shouting, followed by a gunshot. This no longer surprised Jack, it just seemed to be the way of things, and on the plus side, it wasn’t aimed at him.

Jack put himself on the storm side of the rope, which meant the incredibly powerful force of the waves would be pushing him onto the rope, rather than washing him out to sea. The water swelled up around him, before smashing a whip like wave high above his head. He hung on tightly as the crushing pressure of the water slammed him into the rope.

Briefly the swell of water rolled on, exposing sections of the rock ahead. Without taking a breath, he let go of the rope and pranced forwards, taking three long leaps, before wrapping himself around a corroded iron post, which marked the mid-point of the crossing.

As he clung on, the waves rose up around him once more, completely submerging him. As the seconds past, the water seemed to hold. He was now hanging off the side of the rocks in an almost horizontal position, dragged out by the force of the water.

It was only as he felt his grip on the post begin to slip, that the waves eased once more. Jack swung his feet up, onto the interrupted rocky causeway, dragging himself along with the rope. The water had settled between the gusts, at waist level. Making full use of every second, Jack forced himself forward. As he reached the last few feet, and the water began to shallow, he let go of the rope and ran forwards. He leapt as the waves began to heave and rise once more.

As he reached the bare rock-face, he scrambled to the base of the lighthouse. He tucked himself into a sheltered crevice at the base of the winding stone steps to catch his breath and clear his head.

He could feel his pulse racing and his chest pounding, gasping for just as much air as his waterlogged lungs could hold.

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