Fisher's Light(109)

Ellie squeezes me tighter, still trying her best to convince us that Fisher is fine.

“It’s okay, there’s no way he would’ve gone diving in this storm,” she reassures me.

“If he was down under the water, he might not have known the storm was coming until he surfaced,” Bobby tells us.

“I drove by the dive hut and his truck wasn’t there. Would he have gone anywhere else? That’s where you guys always dive,” I tell him, my stomach churning with dread.

Bobby stops pacing and runs a hand through his hair. “He’s been a f*cking downer and out of sorts all week. I told him I’d keep the entire afternoon open so he could take his time and enjoy the underwater scenery, clear his head. He mentioned something about wanting to dive somewhere different, somewhere that reminded him of you, whatever the f*ck that means.”

There’s a light that guides all of us to where we’re meant to be.

I pull out of Ellie’s arms and race for the front door.

“LUCY! You can’t go back out in this storm,” she shouts.

“Lucy, just WAIT! I’ll go with you!” Bobby yells.

I ignore them both, moving as fast as I can through the storm, holding my arms over my face, battling the wind and the rain to get to Trip’s SUV.



The only reason I know I’m heading in the right direction is the beacon of light that circles around in the sky, shining bright even through the torrential downpour. I’m driving faster than I should, considering I can barely see a few feet in front of me. Trip’s SUV rocks from side to side with the force of the wind and bounces up and down along the gravel drive that takes me up to the lighthouse. The sight of Fisher’s truck parked about a quarter of a mile from the lighthouse, right in front of the walkway that leads to the beach, has me throwing open the door and racing to the driver’s side window. I peer inside, finding it empty, and I take off through the ankle-deep puddles, not even bothering to shield my face as the rain batters against my skin.

I scream Fisher’s name as loud as I can as I follow the walkway, running in between the giant rock formations. The water has moved so far inland that there is only about a hundred yards of beach left where there is usually at least three times that. I continue screaming for Fisher, but the wind blows the sound right back at me. The waves crash angrily onto the shore, one right after another, pounding against the sand like God himself has come down and is slamming his fist into the beach.

Shielding my eyes, I blink rapidly, trying to see through the rain hitting my face, but it’s no use. I can’t see anything beyond the waves. A shift in the wind switches the direction of the rain so that it’s beating against my back instead of my face and I can see a little more clearly. I try to hold my sopping wet hair away from my eyes as the wind whips it in every direction. Quickly scanning the beach, something not too far down catches my attention. My stomach drops and I take off running, falling to my knees in the wet sand. Resting in a puddle on the beach is a backpack and harness with the two air tanks packed inside. The same type of pack that Fisher wears when he dives.

Why would he do this? Why would he come out here, even if he didn’t know about the storm? He’s been diving all of his life, so he knows how dangerous it is out here by the lighthouse. The current is unpredictable near the rocks and there have been numerous accidents over the years involving people who chose to ignore the warnings because they wanted to see what was down at the bottom of the ocean near the lighthouse. He knows better, dammit!

The crashing waves inch closer and closer to me and I know I need to get off of this beach, but I can’t move. My body is frozen in place when something bright yellow tumbles around in the wild crest of the wave that just battered the beach. The object floats on top of the quickly advancing water as it ebbs towards me, getting lodging in the sand as the water leaves it behind and goes back out to sea. I crawl on all fours across the wet sand, tears and rain blurring my vision. I grab the yellow and black scuba fin from the sand, cradle it to my chest and scream as loud as I can at the angrily churning ocean.





Chapter 42




Fisher

Present Day


I know I shouldn’t be diving in this area, especially alone, but I needed to be here, needed to be somewhere that reminded me of Lucy since I can’t actually be with Lucy right now. I know she needs space to figure things out, but all this time away from her is killing me. How am I supposed to convince her that we’re meant to be together if I can’t touch her and kiss her and show her how much I love her? Sticking that note and picture in her mailbox first thing this morning was my last ditch effort.