I walked up to the steps to the lighthouse and paused before I pushed on the great wooden door. It opened easily. Stale air rushed out of the room as fresh air replaced it and stirred cobwebs that hung every where. The floor was covered in dust and it looked as though no one had been here for a while, yet, I glanced out of the door and saw, yes, the beam of light still came from the top of the tower. Someone must be refilling the oil and cleaning the lense, but surely.... My eyebrows knotted together and I pursed my lips, confused by the situation. I crouched down and stared at the floor and saw foot prints which had been made by some heavy boot. Here and there they were also long streacking marks that lead to the stairs. But what botherd me most was that the footprints were obviously, days maybe weeks old. So where were the returning steps back? There weren't any
"The oil and food and water are all down the bottom of the tower" I muttered to myself, "the light is still shining and yet there is a good layer of dust which has obviously not been disturbed for some time." The more I thought about it, it more unease I felt. It made no sense. How, Why was the lighthouse still running?!!?!
I paused. Why was the lighthouse still running? The answer seemed obvious...To guide ships into port...When a war was on?? What was the point of the balcnkout if the lighthouse was still running. It merely acted like a beacon. That was stupid! Angrilly I stormed forward charging up the step in my anger, I didn't pause to think what if it had been lit on purpose? Reaching the top I automatically grabbed upwards and swang off the rope ladder, steadily climbing upwards untill I reached the trap door. It was only once I opened it and saw the large table with officers all dressed in a dark green crowded round it that I realised, No one had noticed me. I didn't dare breathe....
There were two men at the lamp, they had 5 large barrels of oil next to it and they were pointing it to land...Not the way that it used to spinning round and round to show sailers the lie of the land, but it one direction, flashing. Signalling. There were other men, they sat at the big oak table and were peering over maps discussing in their harsh German drawl.
I scowled viciously: Was this why my Mother had not returned? Had she come across the other camp and been captured. Or been thrown cruelly of the tower by this lot. I would find out the truth.
Roaring curses I lept into the room and swung my rucksack at the men with the lamp. I knocked the first of the side but as I aimed for the second he blocked my attack with the lamp and my bag burst into flames. I dropped it and kicked out at him, sending him hurteling into space after his companion.
The officers took longer to react, the young one pulled out a pistol that, from the way he fumbled with it, you could tell he had no idea how to use it. The other took a different approach and charged at me with his head bowed. I skipped to the side dodging it and he collided into the wall with a sickening crunch and collapsed on the floor.
I pulled out his sword, obviously ceremonial, which for some reason this officer preferred to carry at all times. Turning to the other I glared as he raised his pistol and fired.