Chapter 2

The sounds of voices echoed down the elongated cone of the light tower, David on the second floor, laid out on his back as he finished the last few reps of his last set. He tilted his head slightly, angling his ear so he could listen to the voice of Pete as he made a weather report.

Setting the weights back into their cradle with a heavy clank, David grabbed his towel and padded barefoot up the spiraling staircase to the third floor, the radio room/study as David called it. It was a tall, narrow, round room, against one wall was the radio equipment which currently hummed as Pete’s familiar voice repeated his previous broadcast, placed in front of the radio equipment was sturdy, well worn wooden chair. On the opposite side of the room sat a tall, narrow bookcase, beside it was a single, old and worn lazy boy recliner.

Pete’s voice continued on, warning all ships to expect gusts of up to fifty miles per hour with sustained winds at thirty-five, and recommending all small craft come in to shore for the third and final time for this hour. After David was sure Pete was finished with his weather report, he spun the tuning dial and stopped it on the frequency he and Pete used for idle chatter.

Pressing down the transmit button on his microphone, David’s deep, rumbling voice said, “Light fourteen to Coast guard cutter, Zale” he then let up the button and listened as the radio hissed and crackled with the flashes of lightning outside. David was about to make the ‘handshake’ call again when Pete’s voice came over the speaker.

“Cutter Zale, Go ahead?”

A smile curled across David’s rugged face and he picked up the mic, leaning back in his seat before he pressed the button once again and asked, “How are you holding out down there? Sounds like things are getting a little choppy. Over.” Despite the fact that David had never met Pete face to face, they’d formed a rather unique friendship over the last few years. They talked almost daily on the shortwave radio, and even when they didn’t actually speak to one another, David had become accustomed to hearing Pete’s voice as he gave regular weather updates. It was, to David, almost like having a pen pal, at times Pete seemed like he was a world away, at other times, he seemed like he was there in the room with him. A single light glowing in the dark night that is loneliness for David, and even though it wasn’t mentioned outright, Pete was aware that David was there, alone, manning light fourteen.

“We’re beginning to feel a bit like one of Bond’s drinks, shaken, not stirred, how are things where you’re at? Over.” Pete replied, sounding a little stressed, but still good natured.

“Could be worse,” David said as he peered out the window towards the shoreline, “Looks like the swell’s washing over the end of the dock here, might have a little repair work to do tomorrow, but if it doesn’t get much worse I don’t think I’ll have to do much more than replace a few planks. Over.”

There was an extended delay before Pete replied, David almost had given up waiting, and was about to stand before Pete came back over the radio.

“Light Fourteen? Sorry to do this to you, but we just got an emergency call, I’m going to have to cut this short. If it is not too late when we get back in, I’ll try to raise you again. Over.”

David’s hopes sunk a bit, considering how lonely he was feeling, but he understood that Pete’s job came before any socializing; he was however consoled slightly by the fact Pete had bothered to tell him that he had to go, instead of just dropping the conversation. David pressed down the transmit button then said, “Understood Cutter Zale, go save some lives, and keep yourselves safe. Light Fourteen, Out.”

David was just about to spin the tuning dial back to the regular frequency when Pete came back and said, “Keep yourself safe as well Light Fourteen, Cutter Zale, Out.” With that, David smiled then gave the dial a spin, tuning the radio back to where it’d originally had been set.

His semi-regular hour-long chat with Pete cut short; David pushed himself up out of the seat and pursed his lips, wondering what he should do. He contemplated going back down stairs to log onto the internet, but then remembered the phone lines were down, he’d already done his workout and felt that nice burn he loved so much so that was dismissed as well. He sighed quietly, looking back at his bookcase, he’d read every book there at least twice so he shrugged that off and decided to check the light and the generator for the third time today, before taking a shower and crawling into bed early.

David climbed the spiral stairs once again, taking him up to the fourth, and final ‘floor’ before the light it’s self, this was the light room, the center of which was dominated by the inner workings of the light. Mounted to the ceiling was the drive assembly that slowly rotated the ‘bee hive’ shaped magnification array about the high wattage lamp. David stood near it, studying the gears as they slowly meshed with one another then resigned himself to the fact that they were indeed well maintained and did not need his assistance. He then climbed up the final flight of stairs, folding open a trap door that allowed him access to the light it’s self.

David stood with his back to the intense light as it slowly rotated, he could feel the heat from the light as it washed over him. During the day he wouldn’t be able to simply stand there, looking out over the ocean while the light was operating, without sweating profusely, and eventually passing out from heat stroke. Now that it was night and the howling winds and rains sapped the heat from the glass walls about him, making it from what David guessed, about ninety degrees within the top of the lighthouse.

Pressing the palm of his right hand against the metal frame of the window in front of him, David watched the rolling waves as they collided against the docks below. Once again, another blast of heat panned across his back as the light slowly rotated, and the thought struck him, how odd it was that the palm of his hand could be so cool, but the back of it feel almost as if he were laying out under the hot, noon day sun.

With a heavy sigh, David resigned himself to returning to the more tepid comforts of the lower levels, he began descending the staircase then turned to reach for the handle of the trap door when he noticed a flash of light from the ground below. Stopping in his tracks, he leaned forward, cupping his hands to the sides of his face in an almost futile attempt to block out the next pass of the rotating light. He saw the flash again, narrowing its source down to the stretch of beach currently under siege by unrelenting waves. Something, but hopefully not somebody, was out there, being pummeled with each bombardment of the incoming waves. Even on the off chance someone was out there, David quickly began descending the steps, snapping the trap door closed above him, almost cracking himself on the top of the head with the heavy wood and steel door.

David descended the spiral staircase faster than he had ever remembered doing so, as he went, he prayed that he wouldn’t trip because at the speed he was going, he’d surly break something by the time he tumbled to the bottom of the four story spiral. Evidently his higher power was listening to his prayers, either that, or he’d just lucked out, David thought, as he hit the bottom step then bolted for his boots, raincoat, and search light. He fumbled with the heavy rubber coat for a moment before he finally managed to thread his thick arms through the awkward and floppy sleeves, then slipped his bare feet into his boots. Pausing for a moment to collect his wits he reached over, grabbed the search light, and flicked it on before he swung open the door, and received the shock of his life.

Standing in the door way was a darkly clothed figure with a pale face, another flash of lighting, and earsplitting clap of thunder rocked the house as the lights sputtered, dimmed then failed completely. Within a matter of seconds, David felt as if he’d been slugged as something massive and wet collided with him. He stumbled, tripped over Tommy, causing the cat to wail, and then he fell to the floor on his back as he heard the rumbling of the generator revving up in the distance. He lay there on the tile floor of the kitchen when the lights sputtered back on, and that’s when he realized the man who’d been standing in the doorway was laying atop him. He hadn’t been hit; the man had fallen on him.

Tentatively, David reached out, gripping the man by the shoulders, “Hey? Are you ok?” he asked giving the man a little shake when he didn’t get a response. The man was soaked, his dark clothing seeped water as David lightly squeezed the man’s shoulders. After a moment’s hesitation, David rolled the man off of him, that’s when he realized that there was blood mixed with the water, David’s chest was covered with pink, water-diluted blood.

“Shit shit shit “, David muttered to himself as he knelt next to the apparently unconscious man. He lifted his hand to his forehead as he tried to figure out what he should do. “Ok, get a grip Airedale” he heard himself say in the same tone his old dill sergeant would have used, “Fist things first; make sure he’s still alive.” He muttered to himself before he reached down to the man’s neck and placed his fingers against the bulging vein he saw there, he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the strong pulse, “Ok, he’s alive..” he said, thinking out loud, and then looked around the room, “ok ok ok, um.. dry and warm.. yeah.” Came more spoken thoughts as he hooked his arms under the unconscious man’s shoulders, with a quiet grunt he lifted the man’s weight over his shoulder and began carrying him towards the bedroom.

Careful not to jostle the unconscious man around too much, David laid him out on the bed, and then began checking for any obvious injuries. First, he noticed the scalp wound, which bled profusely; David retreated to the bathroom to get some hand towels then returned pressing one to the deep cut in the man’s scalp in an attempt to stop the bleeding. While he waited, he noticed a hole in the man’s shirtsleeve, on closer inspection he found another wound, this one, disturbingly looked like a bullet wound. While David had not actually seen active combat in the Marines, he had seen photos of bullet wounds, and was pretty sure he knew what a bullet hole looked like. His eyes trailed away from the wound back to the face of the man and studied him carefully.

The man lying on David’s bed was, in David’s estimate, mid to late twenties, his hair, while wet was a dark shade of brown. David assumed it would be a lighter shade once dry. David reached up with his left hand, then gently lifted the mans right eyelid, while his eyes were rolled back at an odd angle, he noticed that the pupil contracted when exposed to light, he then repeated the process for the left eye, it also responded, he then let out a breath he’d not been aware he’d been holding. “Ok Stranger, I think we’ve got your bleeding stopped, let’s tackle that wet and cold issue now.” David said to the unconscious man before he removed the now blood soaked hand towel from the man’s scalp, and then began slowly pealing off the sopping wet shirt.

David found another surprise as he lifted the man’s unconscious body up to pull the shirt off. Strapped about the man’s chest and lower abdomen was a holster, and in it, positioned in the small of the man’s back was a very nasty looking gun, and although David had never used one before, he recognized the device screwed into it’s muzzle, a silencer.

David slowly withdrew from the unconscious man who was in his arms, and looked at him again before quietly saying, “Oh man, you are bad news, with a capital B.” The man didn’t respond he just hung limply in David’s arms. With a quiet sigh, David began unbuckling the harness, and removed the weapon from the man’s body. Despite his better judgment, David pulled the gun from its holster and inspected it. It was a 9mm, similar in design to most law enforcement models. David slid back the hammer and took a sniff of the chamber then groaned quietly, by the acrid scent within the chamber he could tell it had been fired recently, but was also full of water. As he tilted the gun while inspecting it, water poured out of the clip and along the muzzle. That’s when he noticed, it had no serial number, and the most disturbing thing of all, the serial number hadn’t just been filed down to mask it; the gun had never been stamped with one.

A muffled groan came from the man leaning against him, startling David out of his study of the highly illegal weapon. He quickly slid the clip out of the gun, cleared the chamber and set it aside, before sliding the clip into his pocket. He then returned his attention to his unconscious ‘guest’, carefully lowering the groaning man back to the bed, “Hey? You awake?” he asked trying to sound as casual, and non-threatening as possible.

The vibrant green eyes of the pale faced man snapped open when David’s words reached his ears, but the way they darted around, and his hands fanned out was enough of a clue to let David know that the man was panicked “I’ve got to get out of here, they’re coming for me, they’ll kill me.” The man’s voice was on the low end of mid range, and had an odd raspy quality to it, giving it a unique sound, which David hadn’t ever heard, at least not in person. The man still obviously stricken with panic tried to roll over, and claw his way free of the bed, only to find himself pinned down by the center of his chest, with one of David’s large hands, “Relax.” David said calmly, “You’re safe here, it’s just me here, and no one is going to hurt you. It is ok to relax. Just lay back down and go back to sleep, you’re safe.” His voice was quiet and mellow as he looked into the man’s panic stricken gaze. David wasn’t sure why he was saying those words; he just knew that the guy was scared to death.

The man stared back into David’s eyes for a long moment, and then finally seemed to relax, laying back down into the bed, and almost as soon as he’d closed his eyes, he was quietly snoring. David wasn’t sure why the man had collapsed back into the bed, weather it was David’s re-assuring words, or just the simple fact that he was so exhausted that he couldn’t continue to fight and run, either way, the man was unconscious again, only this time he seemed to just be sleeping.

David debated removing the rest of the man’s sopping wet clothing, and then finally decided it’d be for the best, last thing he wanted was a sick, delirious, and panic stricken man on his hands, especially one who carried weapons like the one that was now sitting on the nightstand.

David slowly removed the man’s clothing, as he did so; he came to realize the gunshot wound to the man’s arm wasn’t the only gunshot wound he’d suffered in the past. As the man lay nude in David’s bed, slightly shivering from the damp chill, David counted five gunshot wounds in all, four of which had already healed, leaving round, puckered scars, many of which looked as if they could have been there for years. His body was toned and muscular, with light to medium dusting of dark hair across his chest and down his scarred abdomen. David also noted several scars on the mans forearms, long thin lines, some straight, others arcing in a smooth sweeping motion, as if he’d been cut with a knife, those scars were also old, and had faded till they began to blend with the rest of his skin tone. “You are dangerous mystery, Mr. Green eyes.” David said quietly to himself as he pulled a heavy blanket up over the sleeping man, only to have the sleeping man quietly groan then roll onto his side, and curl into a fetal position.

David stepped out of the room and made a trip to the bathroom to retrieve some first aid supplies, peroxide, antibiotic ointment, gauze padding, and bandaging. Most of which was in his first aid kit where it belonged, but he had to hunt down the antibiotic ointment, finding it in the kitchen ‘junk’ drawer after about a ten-minute treasure hunt. Once his first aid kit had been restored to its proper order, David then returned to the bedroom, where he found his guest still sleeping peacefully.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, David began swabbing the bullet hole in the man’s upper arm with a peroxide dampened gauze pad. He was sure it had to hurt, but David didn’t see any signs of pain coming from the man, and by the looks of things the bullet had gone right through the outer layers of the man’s deltoid, piercing the skin and muscle, making a hole approximately the diameter of David’s thumb on the exit side. From what David could tell, the man had been shot from behind, which was slightly re-assuring for David, at least he was trying to get away from the one who shot him instead of returning the favor.

David poured some peroxide directly into the hole in the mans arm, this brought forth a low groan of protest, and a strong hand shot up, gripping David’s wrist, “That hurts.” The man hissed through clenched teeth as he looked up at David through squinted eyes, evidently he was not as asleep as David had originally thought considering how quickly he became aware of his surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt you but I need to clean this bullet hole, or you could get very sick.” Came David’s mellow words, his eyes then trailed down to the hand that was tightly gripping his wrist, “Please let go of my wrist, I’ll try to do this as quickly as possible, while trying not to hurt you.”

David watched as the Green eyes moved from his, down to his wrist, and then back again before the man simply nodded before saying in a much more calm voice, “Understood, you don’t have to rush, just be through, I can tolerate the pain. You just surprised me is all, please; in the future warn me beforehand.”

His wrist released, David tilted the bottle of peroxide once again, pouring it into the wound. He watched as the man’s jaw tightly clenched, and he could hear his teeth grating against one another, but no vocalizations were made. David was just dumbstruck at the man’s pain tolerance; he couldn’t help but think if he’d been the one having cold peroxide poured into a hole through his upper arm that he’d be screaming at the top of his lungs while trying to get away. After he’d finished cleaning the wound with the peroxide, David applied the antibiotic ointment to several gauze pads, then began to slowly wrap the man’s shoulder in the best field dressing he remembered how to make.

“I’m done with your shoulder, but I need to look at your head, you’ve got a deep cut there as well.” David said quietly, leaning slightly to the side to look at the man’s face. His green eyes opened once again, locking on to David’s, and then he slowly sat upright, tilting his head forward giving David access to the wound.

David parted the man’s dark hair then began slowly cleaning the deep cut along the man’s scalp. He could feel the man trembling under is touch every time the coarse gauze padding came in contact with the torn flesh, he wanted to apologize for making the pain worse, but couldn’t find any words that would help take the pain away. After he’d finished flushing the wound with the peroxide, he carefully applied ointment to it before he quietly said, “You’re going to need stitches, in both your arm, and this cut. And your most likely going to need antibiotics, I don’t think just peroxide is going to keep an infection out of that gunshot wound.”

Without looking up, the man said firmly, “No doctors, and no hospitals. If I need stitches, you’ll have to do it yourself.” He paused, and then peered up at David through his eyebrows, and eyelashes, his eyes taking on a softer cast, as he quietly said, “Please, I think you understand why.”

David had to stifle a groan, not because he was being asked to stitch up someone’s scalp or someone’s arm even, and it wasn’t because the man didn’t want the doctors involved, it was the look the man gave him, that pleading in his eyes, the need. David hadn’t ever seen another person give him a pleading look like the one the man had just given him, and David knew right then and there, if the man ever gave him that look again, he’d never be able to say no to what ever request was bundled with that expression.

“I’ll hold off stitching you up tonight, and see how things look in the morning, but I’ll tell you this right now, I’m scared to stitch up your arm without some strong antibiotics. If I close it up with an infection in there, you could loose your arm, and considering your aversion to doctors and hospitals, you could likely wind up loosing your life.” David said quietly, before applying a gauze pad to the mans cut scalp.

His head tilted up again to peer at David as if reading his expression, then after a long moment’s study he simply said, “Then we’ll have to find a way to get the antibiotics that are needed. If I go to a hospital, I’d die before the infection got to me.”

David nodded his head slowly, then said, “You can lie back down, get some sleep, I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight if you need anything.” Before David could get up, a firm hand reached out and gripped his thigh, then said, “I’d kill for an aspirin, and a glass of water.”

David tilted his head to the side, studying the man’s face for a moment, “Sorry, no Aspirin for you, you’ve got three too many holes in you now, I don’t want to risk giving you a blood thinner, you’ve already lost a lot of blood as it is. However, if you can take it, I’ve got some extra strength Tylenol.”

Without hesitation, the man shot David a smile and said in a quiet voice, “Please, you have no idea how badly this hurts.” Despite his better judgment, David reached up and lightly gripped the back of the man’s neck, then gave a light, re-assuring squeeze, “I think I have something even better, I’ll be right back.”

At first, the man tensed when David gripped his neck, but then he relaxed when David spoke softly to him, he nodded his head and watched as David stood and walked out of the room.

David went into the bathroom and began going through his medicine cabinet, after a few minutes of rooting around he found what he was looking for, then filled a tall glass full of water before walking back into the bedroom. The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, the blanket half pulled across his lap barely concealing his nudity, in his right hand was the gun, muzzle pointed towards the floor, and a rather upset expression carried on the mans face. He looked up at David, eyes narrowing, “Where’s the clip?” he asked in the same clench-jawed hiss he’d used with David earlier.

David paused, standing in the door way then quietly replied, “It’s in my pocket, I wasn’t sure what kind of a threat you posed to me when I found your gun and your injuries, so I removed the clip for my own safety.” After a moment’s hesitation he moved further into the room then placed the glass of water on the table before he began opening the pill bottle which he’d carried in his left hand.

“I need that clip.” The man said, his tone firm, but not overly demanding once he’d realized David was being completely honest with him. His eyes panned between the rectangular bulge in David’s pocket and David’s face several times before following David’s eyes as he moved to sit down next to the man.

David poured two pills into his palm then offered them up to the man and said, “Vicodin, I don’t have many left but your welcome to them, I don’t need them any more.” He sat there looking at the man with the pills offered up, then without a word the man set the gun down between his legs and retrieved the pills from David’s hand. He glanced at one of them for a moment, as if verifying that they were indeed Vicodin before placing them in his mouth. With his right hand he then picked up the glass of water and took a long swallow before letting out a slow breath.

David watched him for a moment then reached into his pocket retrieving the clip; he held it up and said, “I’m trusting you with this.” He paused for a moment as if thinking before he tilted the clip in the man’s direction before adding, “Please, don’t make me sorry that I’m helping you. Although it’s pretty obvious that you’re tangled up in some pretty ugly stuff, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, personally I don’t want to know what you’ve gotten yourself tangled up in, but as long as you don’t put me or this building in danger you’re welcome to stay here until you’re ready to move on.”

The man sat there, listening to David’s words then quietly said “Thank you.” Before accepting the clip back, David had figured he’d immediately put it back into the gun, but instead, he simply set both the gun and the clip beside the glass of water on the night table.

David sat there quietly for a long moment then reached over again, giving the back of the man’s neck a light squeeze, this time however, there was no finch or hesitation, and he then simply said, “Your welcome.” Before patting him on the back lightly, “You should try and sleep, help yourself to the pain killers, but try to limit them to a maximum of two every four hours ok? And keep in mind, once they are gone, there won’t be any more unless we get you in to a doctor.”

He nodded quietly before leaning back against the wall as he watched David gather the wet clothing from the floor where he’d discarded it as he’d removed them from the green eyed man. He then stood up, tilting his head to the side, “Would you like me to hit the lights for you on the way out?” The green eyed stranger nodded his head once before closing his eyes and letting himself slump down into the soft welcoming sheets and pillows of David’s bed. David then reached over and turned on a nightlight, before clicking off the bright overhead light. He stepped out into the living room, carrying the mans clothing with him, and pulled the bedroom door partially closed behind him.