Chapter 2: Jett Black
When Coop’s consciousness returned, the first thing he noticed was the gentle rumbling still in his chest. It was pleasant now. Comforting, even. When Coop opened his eyes he was greeted by the night. He was also greeted by Jett.
Jett was the black cat who lived in the lighthouse. She never left the lighthouse, but now she was laying on Coop’s chest staring at his face, purring. He was glad she was okay. He rubbed her cheeks and she closed her eyes, purring louder. Jett was the true lighthouse keeper, holding seniority over Coop. He didn’t mind. She meowed once but didn’t budge.
Since he was flat on his back, again, he gazed up at the stars. They seemed sharper than normal. He was no astronomer. He couldn’t properly identify more than two constellations, still, he found the sky weirdly unfamiliar. He took a minute to try and find the Big Dipper but he couldn’t do it. He had a twinge of regret at not paying more attention to the night sky since he started living on Rock Key. It was pretty spectacular given that the only light pollution was from the lighthouse, and even that relegated to one corner of the island on the south, facing the open sea.
He took a moment to assess himself. He wasn’t injured despite his proximity to the exploding lighthouse. Actually, he felt really good. Well-rested for some reason. It was definitely not how he expected to feel after his senses had been assaulted during the previous chaos.
He didn’t think being knocked unconscious was a good way to get rest but he did feel about as well as he ever did. His senses had returned to normal, thankfully, and he could once again hear the calming waves gently washing up on the beach and the breeze flowing through the palm fronds.
The palm trees were monstrous. Not all of them had experienced the same incredible growth, but a few of them boggled the mind with how they had changed. The unnatural alterations to the familiar tropical island made Coop uneasy.
Sitting up and helping Jett up onto his shoulder, he scratched her chin with one hand while he faced the lighthouse. It still stood strong, the only differences were that it looked like a giant had taken a car-sized bite out of its neck and the light was uncharacteristically off. Coop didn’t think it would be a good idea to stay in the lighthouse for shelter, he wasn’t sure if the structural integrity was compromised after catching a meteor, so he decided to play it safe. He would gather a few things and head to the fort. Perhaps that was the same conclusion Jett had reached when she ventured outside. He would defer to her judgment in that case. Hopefully, Jones was also alright.
Coop thought the date being 11/11 was supposed to be lucky, but he was reconsidering that little theory now. Tomorrow should have been ferry day which would come with fresh supplies. Was it still coming? He considered leaving with the ferry; assuming the meteors were an isolated event, it might be better to get away from ground zero. He walked along the path to the lighthouse while weighing his escape options.
He caught some movement in his periphery and glanced to his left, toward the edges of the eastern mangroves. The distance was too great to make out any details, but his eyes still picked up movement. Lots of movement. His first thought was some kind of mass crab migration like he’d seen in nature documentaries, but this island didn’t have any major events like that. The way the moonlight reflected off what he assumed were the carapaces reminded him of metallic plates. With that observation he decided he didn’t want to know, and hustled the rest of the way into the lighthouse.
The lighthouse was 5 floors of white stone, and a glass top floor where the lamp was housed. The first floor had been renovated to be something like a living room. If it wasn’t perfectly round it would seem like a regular house. A regular house without windows, he supposed. It was really dark without even the moonlight to brighten the interior. A set of curved iron stairs hugged the wall to the left of the front door leading further up.
The first floor walls housed the solar charged batteries that powered the building while underneath the floor was a massive 50,000 gallon water tank. There was a curved couch framed by old black and white photos opposite the staircase. The photos depicted parts of Ghost Reef from decades prior, including the lighthouse from various angles. His laptop sat on a coffee table in front of the couch, plugged in but without power. The first floor was undisturbed, but there was no electricity even though the batteries should have been fully charged by the solar panels. Coop grabbed his emergency sports bag off the floor on the side of the couch and took the stairs up two at a time, despite the darkness.
The second floor was a kitchen and dining area and the third floor was Coop’s bedroom. In the kitchen, Coop added food to his bag, specifically the stuff that would need to be eaten soon before it spoiled. The bag already contained emergency supplies but he still added to it. He also grabbed some of Jett’s food. She hadn’t left her perch on his shoulder even with him rummaging around inside her lighthouse.