The Vanishing Eight by Lincoln James

Author:Lincoln James [James, Lincoln]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lincoln James

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TORCH

Time in the fire watch tower crawled, stretching into eternity. We had no heat, we had no food, and we had no options. Unshakable dread dripped with each passing second. The air, suffocating and heavy, wrapped around us, saturated with the pungent stench of mildew. It clung to our clothes, embedding itself in the very fabric, a constant reminder of decay. As we lightly grazed the weathered furniture, plumes of dust swirled into the air, tickling our nostrils with their gritty embrace. The tower itself seemed to disintegrate, particle by particle, as if consumed by its gradual rot. Silence wrapped around us like a suffocating blanket, rendering our voices mute. Only the primal cacophony of the wind's mournful howls and the tortured groaning of the structure remained.

I sought solace in the flickering glow of the yellow lantern's flame. But my mind remained haunted, consumed by the weighty specter of Charles' lifeless form. His dark eyes, devoid of all spark, remained etched in my memory, a gruesome tableau seared into the recesses of my consciousness. The macabre scene played on an endless loop, tormenting me with the vivid recollection of blood splattered across the walls, its crimson trail like a grotesque artist's stroke– the same blood staining Charles' flannel and turtleneck.

I battled desperately to banish his ghastly visage from my mind, to push him into the shadows of where he belonged. But he refused to be exorcised, an unwelcome phantom returning with relentless persistence, refusing to release its grip on my psyche.

And what about Roy’s Firebird? And poor Shelly out there barefoot… and Andy and Becca… What the hell is happening? My tortured thoughts would not let go.

I clung desperately to a flickering glimmer of hope, my heart yearning to believe our friends were safe, shielded from the fate that had claimed Charles. Yet, with each passing moment, faith slipped through my trembling fingers like fine sand, leaving only a gnawing void in its wake. Doubt and despair clawed their way into the corners of my mind, festering and multiplying like a relentless disease. They threatened to devour the last vestiges of my wavering resolve.

"Got ‘em on your mind?” Dawn's voice cut through the heavy silence; her eyes fixed on me as she sat perched on the windowsill. I turned to face her, my lips parting, but no words came out. "Your face, it always gives you away," Dawn pressed on, undeterred.

"Jonathan… I–I really dig her. No, scratch that—I’m… in love with her. And I’m hip she feels the same way, even if we've never said the L-word out loud." Her words flowed like a stream, the weight of Dawn’s emotions heavy in the air. Carolyn and I stood in silence, captivated.

Against all odds, a small smile tugged at the corners of Dawn's lips. "We had our hearts set on dropping the bomb during this trip, to make it official," she confessed, her voice breaking for the first time. "I just– I hope she's good, Jon. I hope they all

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