Isle Royale Read online

  “Cabin’s redecorated just the way you wanted. Is she coming aboard now?”

  LeBeck took another deep puff of his cigarette. He looked up toward the lighthouse. “Maybe,” he said. “The night’s still young.”

  Behind the bush, Ian shifted nervously. Sally put her lips near his ears again. “Who’s he talking about?”

  “My mom,” Ian hissed. “I’ll kill him if he touches her.” He reached into his front pants pocket and extracted a little pocketknife. He nervously unsheathed the blade.

  “With that?” Sally said, trying hard not to laugh.

  Ian put a finger to his lips and pointed back at LeBeck. Sally saw the gangster stamping out his cigarette in the sand.

  “Get a group of the boys together to secure the lighthouse grounds,” LeBeck ordered. “Midnight’s not far off.”

  “Right,” MacGlynn said. He paused, then added, “What about the lightkeeper?”

  LeBeck took a gold locket from his coat pocket and opened it. Inside was a faded picture of Collene MacDougal. LeBeck stared at the photo a moment. The cold wind tugged at him, almost as if it was trying to tear the locket from his grasp. Finally, LeBeck snapped the locket shut and slipped it back in his pocket.

  “He stays alive until I say,” LeBeck declared. “I need to talk to her first.” A pout worked its way onto MacGlynn’s mug. “Don’t worry,” LeBeck said soothingly. “You’ll have your fun. Let’s go.” They strode away, back toward the group of thugs milling about on the beach.

  Behind the bush, Ian gripped his little pocketknife, his jaw set, eyes blazing with hate. Sally touched him lightly on the arm.

  “Come on, Ian,” she said. “We can’t beat them all now. We need to warn our folks.”

  Ian hesitated a moment, then reluctantly folded the knife and put it back in his pocket. “I hate him,” he announced, as if it weren’t apparent enough already.

  “I know,” Sally said, tugging at his arm. “Come on.”

  As they rose up from their hiding place, Sally swung around and accidentally bumped the kerosene lamp into a tree, shattering the glass. The pair looked at each other in horror.

  “Run!” cried Ian.

  On the beach, LeBeck whirled around at the sound. “What was that?” he asked sharply. He and MacGlynn raced back toward the liquor barrels just in time to see Ian and Sally disappear into the woods.

  “Get back here!” LeBeck cried out after them. He ran toward them, whipping out his Colt .45 and firing blindly into the brush, but he was too late to get a good shot at the fleeing teenagers. He stopped at the edge of the clearing, swore, then gestured for a very large thug to come near.

  “Tiny!” LeBeck beckoned. A hulking mountain of flesh, with hands bigger than LeBeck’s head, came trotting toward his boss. He stopped obediently next to LeBeck, never saying a word, just waiting expectantly.

  “Get ‘em,” ordered LeBeck.

  The man called Tiny just stood there, an uncomprehending look on his face. LeBeck made a slashing gesture across his throat, then pointed into the woods. The big man flashed a stupid-looking grin, grunted, then stepped toward the woods.

  LeBeck gripped Tiny’s arm, tugging him back. He looked up into the thug’s eyes and said, snarling, “Accident. Understand?”

  Tiny grunted and smiled again, patted LeBeck on the shoulder, then crashed into the woods.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ian and Sally fled through the pitch-black forest, branches and brambles tearing at their clothes. Overhead, the wind whistled through the trees as the storm continued to build.

  “Did you see the guy following us?” shouted Ian over the wind as he stumbled through the pathless woods.

  “He’s as big as a house!” said Sally, overtaking Ian and running headlong through the timber.

  The foliage was thick and difficult to move through, especially when running at night with no light to guide the way. The teenagers frequently tripped on exposed tree roots that cropped up almost everywhere. After several spills on the rocky soil, the knees on their pants were shredded, their skin gashed and bleeding. Still they ran.

  Lightning crackled overhead. Ian froze suddenly and gestured for Sally to do the same. They stood there, trying to quiet their ragged breathing, and listened. At first they heard only the wind, which lashed the treetops with increasing fury. An owl hooted from somewhere in the darkness. But then, behind them in the distance, they heard branches snapping and heavy footfalls as something lumbered through the forest. Something big.

  “Think he’ll find us?” Sally whispered.

  “Not in the dark,” Ian tried to say with confidence, except he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. “If we stay here we can double back and make it back home.”

  They stood there, motionless, waiting and listening. The crashing noise got closer. And closer. Then, suddenly, they saw a huge black form take shape not more than twenty yards from where they stood. The shape paused, then rushed toward them.

  “Out of here!” Ian shouted. Without looking back, they took off like frightened jackrabbits, running for their lives.

  Clarence strode quickly across the compound, fussing and fretting at LeBeck’s men, who suddenly seemed to have made themselves quite at home. Behind him, at the cliff’s edge, the unmanned lighthouse shone in the face of the approaching storm. Clarence fretted and muttered to himself. How do I deal with this? Why can’t LeBeck just go away? I have a lighthouse to run, for God’s sake. And Young still down with the flu. Where’s that boy, anyway?

  Clarence noticed a man near the oil house and quickly ran toward him. The thug was leaning up against the small, round building, about to light a cigarette. He struck a match, then looked up in surprise as Clarence, red in the face, waved his arms at him.

  “Put that out, ya damn fool!” Clarence shouted. “You’ll blow us all up!”

  The thug turned and saw a red warning plaque nailed to the door that read, “Danger: Kerosene Storage.” As he stood there, stupidly trying to comprehend the implications of the sign, his match burned down, making him drop it to the ground in pain.

  Clarence turned his back and threw his hands up in exasperation. Then he spied LeBeck striding up the lawn toward Clarence’s house. The lightkeeper took a deep breath, then hurried to intercept him. As his feet carried him swiftly across the lawn, lightning flashed overhead. Clarence paid no attention. A thunderous boom echoed off the cliffs, but Clarence’s ears were deaf to the sound. He had only one thing on his mind.

  “LeBeck!” Clarence shouted over the wind. “What are all these men doing here?”

  LeBeck stopped, rolled his eyes upward, then turned and watched as Clarence quickly closed the gap between them. He wondered if it wouldn’t be easier after all to just shoot the lightkeeper and get it over with.

  “You’ve heard of safety in numbers, Clarence? I’m going to be very safe tonight.” LeBeck’s new bodyguard, with Tommy gun in hand, hustled up next to his boss and scowled at Clarence. LeBeck leaned forward and talked in a low tone, trying not to be overheard by the thug. “We were mates once, Clarence. Can’t you be civil to your old friend? At least in front of my boys?”

  “You chose your own path, LeBeck,” said Clarence, spitting out the words. “I make no bones about it. I don’t like you, and I don’t like what you do.”

  LeBeck’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t forget, you’re my partner now. This lighthouse will be the best drop-off spot on all the Great Lakes.”

  “No,” snapped Clarence. “Just this once. Just once so you’ll go and never come back. That’s the end of it.”

  “But once is all it takes, Clarence laddie,” LeBeck said, mocking the lightkeeper’s Scottish accent. “You’re committed now. You’re mine. Lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.”

  “The hell with that!”

  With clenched fists, Clarence took a step forward. In a flash, the bodyguard lowered the muzzle of his machine gun, causing Clarence to freeze in his tracks.

  “Of course,” said
LeBeck calmly, never moving a muscle, “if I were to leave you alone after tonight, I’d need something in return.”

  Clarence narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then asked, “Like what?”

  LeBeck silently nodded toward the house.

  Clarence stood there a moment, his mind not quite comprehending the gangster’s gesture. Then he went red with rage. “God damn you, LeBeck.”

  At that moment the front door of the house opened, and they heard a quiet voice calling out.

  “Hello, Jean.”

  All heads turned to see Collene standing there, looking down from the front porch. Dressed in a flowing white dress, she was a radiant angel lit against the stormy background.

  LeBeck took a step forward, staring open-mouthed at her. For the first time that evening, his calm seemed to melt away. He was dumbstruck, struggling for words. “Collene,” he finally blurted out.

  Smiling down on him, she said sweetly, “It’s been a long, long time.” The compound was awash in silence. Even the storm seemed to lull as the electricity flowed between LeBeck and Collene.

  Clarence watched the exchange in silent horror. The fight went out of him then. It was as if someone had kicked him in the stomach, then sucked out his soul, leaving an empty shell behind. He tried stepping forward, hesitated, then stood there, frozen. Finally, he lowered his eyes and stammered, “I… I best be get’n back to the light.”

  “Yes, Clarence,” said LeBeck distantly, never taking his eyes off Collene. “Do that. Make sure it burns bright.”

  Clarence slunk off, melting away into the dark shadows. He looked over his shoulder once and cringed to see LeBeck moving up the front steps of the porch to take Collene’s hands in his. Clarence turned away and fled, hot tears streaking his cheeks. “You’re losing her,” a voice boomed inside his head. He jammed his fists over his ears and stumbled away toward the safety of the lighthouse.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ian and Sally, after what seemed like hours fleeing through the dense forest, finally stumbled into a deserted clearing, a barren parcel of granite near the shoreline. At first, Ian had no idea where they were. With the night sky filled with storm clouds and no light from the moon to illuminate the scene, all he could make out were black shapes hovering all around them. Just off to their right he could hear waves crashing on the nearby shore.

  Then, as lightning crackled across the black clouds roiling across the lake, Ian could see that the dark shapes were twisted metal beams pointing skyward, a macabre forest of steel sticking straight out of the granite.

  Fearing to venture into this bizarre landscape, the two crouched together at the edge of the clearing. Using a large boulder as partial shelter against the wind, they took a moment to catch their breath. Ian stared at the steel beams, pondering them. Finally, something clicked in his mind.

  “The old lighthouse,” he declared. “We’re at Sandy Point. Or what’s left of it.”

  A wave crashed down on the craggy shore, showering the two teenagers with cold spray. They huddled closer, trying to shield each other from the wind.

  “Think we lost him?” asked Sally, nodding back toward the black woods. They held their breath and listened for a minute, but heard only the wind and waves fighting each other; no crashing noises could be heard from the forest behind them.

  “Maybe,” Ian said at last. “I think we can rest a while, anyway. Then we should try to double back home.”

  Shivering from fright and fatigue, Sally tried taking her mind off her aching feet by surveying the clearing in front of them. She found it hard to believe that a lighthouse once stood on this spot. “There’s nothing left but support beams,” she said with awe. “How on earth did the lightkeeper survive that storm that day?”

  “He left his post,” Ian said, contempt edging into his voice. “He was drinking up in the woods when the wave hit. Wiped the rock clean. It took the lighthouse, his family, everything.”

  “Must be why he killed himself.”

  “They say his ghost still haunts the shore, looking for his lost family.”

  Sally hesitated a moment, as if deciding whether or not to divulge a secret. She bit her lower lip, then whispered, “I saw the green lights once, from offshore on my boat.”

  “Me, too!” Ian exclaimed. On clear days, when Ian repelled down the cliffs at Wolf Point, he could see the remains of the old lighthouse, which was situated farther north up the coast of Isle Royale. One evening, at dusk, Ian saw tiny green lights darting through the woods. They had flickered in and out like fireflies, or elves running along the forest floor with little green lamps. “How come you never said anything before?”

  “I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”

  “I already know you’re crazy, Sal. That’s why I like you.”

  Sally grinned and punched him on the arm.

  “Ouch!” he said, rubbing his muscle. “I don’t think the lights are ghosts, though. I think somebody’s roaming around here, scaring people off.”

  “Baloney. Why would anyone do that?”

  “Maybe they’ve got hidden treasure or something.” Ian shivered against the cold. The clearing was a barren, windswept place. Nothing moved on the granite shore except leaves blowing madly about.

  Ian thought a moment, then said, “But whoever’s out here, maybe they can help us.”

  Sally thought a moment, considering this. “Could be,” she said carefully. “But we have to find them first.”

  “Right.” Ian squeezed Sally’s hand, then stood up. “Stay here a minute, Sal. I just want a closer look. Then we’ll go.”

  Sally immediately stood up. “You’re not leaving me here alone,” she said, pointing back the way they came. “Not with that thing in the woods.”

  “Okay. Come on, then.”

  They cautiously moved into the clearing, with Ian leading the way. They’d taken no more than a few steps when the heavens finally opened up. Sheets of stinging rain fell on them, and the wind increased in ferocity.

  Ian pulled up the collar of his mackintosh, then walked to the middle of the roughly circular array of steel beams. He grabbed a beam with both hands and tried bending the twisted metal, but it was as solid as the granite from which it emerged. “Imagine the force that ripped this down,” Ian called out.

  Sally, who was busy picking around the compound, looking for artifacts, looked up in alarm. “Don’t touch those beams,” she warned.

  “Why not?” As if in answer, a lightning bolt crackled across the sky, lighting up the clearing again. Ian jumped back away from the beam, his eyes wide with realization.

  Sally frowned, then continued her scavenger hunt. She noticed something sticking up out of the thin soil and bent down. She scraped away the dirt with her fingers, then pried loose the remains of a child’s doll. She inspected the unfortunate toy. It was torn to ribbons, its ceramic head crushed and hanging by a thread. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, tossing the doll aside. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  Ian began picking his way back toward her. Suddenly, as lightning crashed overhead, the thug Tiny emerged from behind a steel beam. An evil grin was spread over his stupid, gargantuan face. Ian jumped back and twisted away, trying to scramble back into the woods. As he spun, his shoe slipped on the slick granite. He lost his balance only for a moment, but that was enough for Tiny to strike. With surprising speed for such a behemoth, the thug reached out and snared Ian, then put him in a giant bear hug, lifting him completely off his feet.

  Ian cried out in pain. He felt his ribs compressing inward, nearly snapping, as they pressed on his lungs. He felt the breath being squeezed right out of him. His legs thrashed and kicked uselessly. He managed to wriggle an arm free, made a fist and hurled it up and back, smashing Tiny’s face. But the attempt was futile; it was like hitting a brick wall.

  From the other side of the clearing, Sally couldn’t see the attack. The wind and rain obscured her vision, and the constant crashing of the nearby surf drowned out all
other noise. Finally, another lightning strike lit up the compound. In horror, Sally saw Ian in the grasp of the giant thug, kicking and fighting for his life.

  “Ian!” she screamed, then took three steps forward. That was as far as she got.

  At that moment, the lake threw up a colossal wave. It crashed onto shore, foaming and slithering up the granite like the tentacles of some huge sea creature. Sally lost sight of Ian and Tiny behind a sheet of white, blistering cold water. “No!” she screamed, as the water swirled up to her knees.

  When the wave slammed into them, Tiny instantly lost his grip on Ian. They both went underwater a moment, then popped back up, sputtering and gasping for breath. When the wave receded, it pulled them out toward the open lake with a terrible force. Ian threw his arms out and flailed, desperately searching for anything to hold onto. As he was swept along the rocks, his right arm bumped into one of the steel beams sticking out of the ground. He gripped it hard, then hung on with all his might.

  The wave rushed past Ian, roaring in his ears like a freight train. Then he felt Tiny gripping his left shoulder, desperately trying to stop his descent into the water. Ian craned his neck and bit Tiny’s hand hard. The big man jerked back and was instantly swept away. Ian looked back and saw a look of amazement on the thug’s face just before he tumbled away, screaming, as the wave swept him over the granite and out into the lake.

  Sally staggered forward through the now-ankle-deep water, which still foamed and boiled on the rocks. She found Ian clinging to the beam, completely drenched and quaking with fear. She rushed over and put an arm around him, then pried him from the beam and helped him to his feet.

  “Too close,” Ian gasped as he tried straightening his gnarled fingers.

  “You need dry clothes or you’ll catch your death.”

  Already, Ian was shivering uncontrollably. Sally kept her arm around him, trying to shield him from the wind. As they stumbled away toward the woods, she craned her neck back, searching the shore. Waves smashed against the rocks, but there was no sign of the unlucky thug. It was as if the lake had swallowed him whole, like he’d never existed. Sally turned back and then saw a look of shock on Ian’s face.