Beacon sighed. “I guess I’ll take the attic bedroom.”
He hiked his backpack over his shoulder, then gripped both sides of the steep wooden ladder and climbed up. When he got to the top, he poked his head into the room. Pale moonlight slanted in from a small window in the corner, but otherwise, it was completely dark. He couldn’t even see his hand when he waved it in front of his face.
“Light switch is on the wall!” Donna called from below.
“Okay!” Beacon replied shakily.
He gulped, climbing up farther, wondering idly if he’d somehow walked into a trap. Maybe this woman wasn’t really an innkeeper. Maybe she was a serial killer, and this hotel was just a clever ruse so she could lure unsuspecting families into her death trap.
He’d been halfway expecting chains and bloodstains, but when he flicked on the light switch, he was happy to find a queen-size bed with a patchwork quilt and a braided rug thrown down over the wooden floor. The peaked ceiling was so low in spots, he couldn’t stand upright near the walls, but other than that, it wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it would be nice to have this space away from the rest of his family and Donna.
That’s what he told himself as he emptied his belongings into the dresser, changed into his pajamas, and climbed underneath the covers.
He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but the old house creaked and groaned. Outside, the ocean bashed against the rocks in a rhythmic roar and crash.
A memory came flooding back. The Halloween before Jasper died, his older brother had had a bunch of his friends over to marathon scary movies. Jasper invited the twins to watch, and Everleigh had immediately plopped down onto the couch. Even though Beacon actually wanted to go trick-or-treating, he’d wanted to seem cool, and Everleigh and Jasper were always spending so much time together fixing cars and talking about cars and poring over car magazines that he sometimes felt left out. So he’d joined his sister and the older kids, who were in the middle of a movie about an evil clown who lived in the sewers. Beacon couldn’t sleep for weeks after that, and even though he was eleven, he’d crawled into his dad’s bed every night. Every day, he’d lived in fear of Everleigh finding out. If she did, he’d never hear the end of it.
One night, as he was trekking to his dad’s room, he ran into Jasper, who was in the hall on the way to the bathroom. Jasper asked what he was doing up, and Beacon admitted that he hadn’t been able to sleep ever since that movie with the evil clown. Jasper’s face had grown serious, and even though Beacon knew Jasper wouldn’t make fun of him, he’d gotten embarrassed. But then Jasper told him to wait right there. He came back a minute later, wielding Beacon’s Little League baseball bat.
“Come on, little brother,” he said, all business. Then he’d stormed into Beacon’s room and flicked on the light. He yelled at the empty room that he was here, he wasn’t scared, and he was ready to fight anyone who messed with his brother. Then he hit his chest like a caveman and spit into the garbage. It was so ridiculous that Beacon couldn’t help laughing. Soon, they were both keeled over. Everleigh came in moments later, blearily rubbing her eyes, and their dad wasn’t far behind, wielding his own baseball bat like he was going to strike an intruder. But neither Beacon nor Jasper could get control of their laughter long enough to explain what had actually happened, so eventually their dad and sister both got annoyed and went back to bed, leaving Beacon and Jasper wiping their tears. Evil clowns never seemed so scary after that.
But Jasper wasn’t here now.
It took him a while, but Beacon finally drifted off to sleep.
That night, he dreamed of the ocean. He stood on a ledge of sharp rocks. The wind howled in his ears, and huge, angry waves crashed against his feet. But somehow, Beacon stayed dry. He bent down and touched the water. Suddenly he was tumbling through the ocean, and then the dream changed, and he was standing on the seafloor, the muted roar of the wind still loud in his ears. Jasper lay on a bed of bright green coral, his pale white hands clasped over his stomach. Fish darted around his body, flashes of silver and scales. Beacon called his brother’s name over the thunderous scream of the water. Jasper’s chest heaved, as if he were trying to speak. Beacon stepped closer to hear what his brother would say. Then Jasper’s mouth gaped open wide, and a big black fish swam out of his mouth.
Beacon screamed.
* * *
...............................
He woke with a start. His cheeks were wet, and his body was drenched in cold sweat. His heart pounded against his chest.
The room was dark, and for a minute, Beacon forgot where he was. Outside, the wind shrieked against the windowpanes. Branches from a nearby tree scritched over the rain-splattered glass and made ugly, sharp shadows dance across the walls. His nightmare trickled away, and memories of the previous day came flooding back—the car wreck, the junkyard, the bedroom in the attic. He was in Driftwood Harbor. This was Blackwater Lookout. And something had woken him up.
Beacon pulled the covers up to his chin. It was just the storm, he told himself. He closed his eyes. But it was no use. He was wide-awake now.
He whipped off the covers and sat up. A gust of chilly air sent goose bumps racing up his back. He set his feet onto the cold wood floor, feeling exactly like those idiots in horror movies who hear a noise and go investigating even though you know it’s a terrible idea.
One peek, he told himself. Just to make sure it was the trees that had woken him up. Then he could go back to bed.
The floor creaked and groaned as he crept toward the window. He peered outside, through the frosty glass.
Without all the lights and smog of the city, he could actually see the stars. They shone above, illuminating the angry black waves that battered the rocky shore below. He squinted into the dark, but he couldn’t see anything wrong.
And then a lighthouse beacon trailed lazily over the ocean, and he caught something in the water. Or rather, someone in the water.
Beacon gasped, and the person in the water whirled around, almost as if hearing him. Her hair was plastered against her head, but he recognized the bright blond curls and blue-and-gold varsity jacket instantly.
Their eyes connected for a brief moment. And then a huge wave reared up and swallowed Jane’s body whole.
3
Beacon slammed his hands against the glass. For a horrible second, he was frozen with panic. He watched the waves ebb and flow, waiting for the girl to reappear, for a hand to reach out through the water. But Jane never came back up. She was going to drown.
Beacon jerked into action, skidding across the room and landing on his knees. He threw open the trapdoor.
“Help!” he screamed. He nearly lost his footing twice scrambling down the ladder. When he was near the bottom, he jumped the last four steps, landing hard and sending a shock wave of pain up his legs.