The Lightkeepers

9

my pants still slipped low on my hip. My fingers curled around the multi-tool in my pocket before

flipping the blade open and poking another notch in my belt.

Perfect. I grimaced, irked by the ordeal. My thighs screamed as I climbed the stairs to grab

my gear and find Henry. Affixing my holster and utility belt to my hip and my Katana across my

back, I climbed higher, poking my head into Henry ’ s window. I frowned when I saw that it was

empty. Climbing higher still, I passed my parents. They were whispering on the landing, almost

silent, when they saw me. Voices spilled from the passage above us, from the beacon room.

I climbed the ladder and hauled myself up. Henry was waiting for me on the catwalk

outside with Ellie. Her blonde hair flowed freely in the breeze, or rather, what was left of its length.

Our mother and Ellie had cut their hair into short, uneven bobs what felt like centuries ago. I

refused to. Sure, it was long and tangled in places, and a distraction, but I simply could not cut it.

It was as much for the same reason as Henry still walked around with his phone in his pocket,

despite there being neither signal nor charge. Or perhaps it was for the same reason why my mother

still wore her watch. Time was mostly irrelevant, or at least that sort of time-telling was. The watch

was old, but she ’ d replaced the battery shortly before this all began. I wondered if she ’ d still wear

it when the battery ran out. Maybe it would live longer than us.

Shaking my head, I sipped from the mug handed to me. The coffee was cold and bitter.

We ’ d run out of sugar months ago. Or maybe it was only a week ago. There was no way of telling

for sure. I couldn ’ t even remember if we ’ d had milk when we first came here. I shook my head

again.

“ Is Dad coming with us? ” I asked.

Henry frowned, his eyes dark.

Dad always came with us. It was a silent agreement between the five of us that three would

always travel outside the lighthouse ’ s immediate area: one to watch our backs, another to lead, and

another to watch the sides. I said nothing as I downed the last of the black coffee, scrunching my

nose as it hit the back of my throat and soon settled in my stomach.

I glanced around. Sunlight sparkled off our three black cars, dead in the parking lot. We

mainly used them for extra storage space at this point, the gas having been siphoned out long ago.

We doubted whether the ignition would even spark. In all my life, I couldn ’ t remember ever seeing

our cars so filthy. Pollen from last spring laid hidden under some fallen leaves, which had shriveled