The Lightkeepers

28

9. Haunted I ’ d avoided my window for the better part of a week. My mother and I had split up her

duties so she could take Ellie ’ s watch, which had been the earliest at sunrise. That was when my

father ’ s shift ended. I didn ’ t mind having more to do. It kept me from thinking. Right now was one

of the rare moments where I found that there wasn ’ t anything calling my attention. Nothing to

guard. Nothing to harvest. Nothing to not see. It was only me in front of the window I had been

sleeping in for the last week. I watched the light fade as the sun set. I could see Mortar Battery

across the street. My eyes fell on the area around the lighthouse.

A few feet from the edge of the inner fence we ’ d built after the attack, stood a little cross.

Ellie stood in shadow, hidden by the bare tree. It was under that tree that she lay in a crude coffin

made of some wood we had scavenged from the Coast Guard ’ s station. She stared up at me,

barefooted and proud. I guess she was waiting for me, her blonde head bobbing. Her hair was

longer now, like it had been before. She looked like she had that summer, before this, before the

apocalypse. The blonde strands floated in a wind that did not blow. We stared at each other for a

while. When I blinked, she disappeared, as always. Just like the horde I had observed earlier, she

had never actually been there. My nightmares leaked into my reality and haunted my sleep.

Ellie haunted me.

I turned my attention toward the other fixtures of the yard. Our two perimeter fences had

been constructed from wooden posts and barbed wire that we found around the park and the Coast

Guard Station. We stole the solar panels from a few of the pergolas around the park to use as a

power source for some better light and also to electrify the fence. Batteries were collected from

the park rangers ’ golf carts. The constant buzz brought about a sort of peace and broke up the

daunting silence. I doubted the electricity would do any damage to the zombies, but it still gave

me comfort. The upgraded and newly repaired fences went all around the lighthouse and the

deteriorating keeper ’ s quarters.

Huffing, I crawled out of the window. As I walked to the foyer, I passed the window I once

shared with my sister, the window I abandoned and kept like a shrine. While climbing back up, I

poked my head through the soft curtains and glanced at the pictures on the wall. Crawling in, I

curled against the wall opposite the collage. In every single picture, faces smiled, eyes glowed and

crinkled with laughter. People held onto each other, embracing those next to them. There were