Page 41 of Thunder Road

He was alone in an empty world, trapped and helpless, doomed. Simon fought back panic, grappling with the nightmare reality of being all alone, forever?—

“Simon!” Vic’s voice sounded far away, but the edge of panic in it roused Simon from his paralysis. “Simon—wake up!”

Everything shifted again, as if the whole world slid sideways and then righted itself, and Simon blinked, trying to clear his mind. He found Vic only inches in front of him, gripping his shoulders with a panicked expression.

“What happened?” Simon wondered how much time had elapsed.

“Oh, thank God you’re back.” Vic’s fearfulness slid into relief.

“Back?”

Vic’s eyes searched his. “What do you remember?”

Simon frowned as he tried to recall the past few minutes and found a blur. “We got in the car to go get lunch. Everything got last man on earth quiet, like there wasn’t anyone else on the planet. I knew I was going to die. And then you were shaking my shoulders.”

Hearing himself recount the episode made Simon question his sanity, but he feared he knew the explanation.

“Are you okay now?” Vic had gone into cop mode, watchful and wary, using his training to push aside his worry.

“I think so,” Simon replied as he did a quick assessment. “I don’t smell toast if that’s what you mean, and I’m a little young for a stroke. But…”

“What?”

“How long was I out of it? It felt like a minute, tops.”

Vic shook his head. “Simon, I’ve been shaking you and calling your name for at least five minutes, maybe more. You didn’t respond. Your eyes were vacant. You were just gone.”

Simon felt his heart speed up in response to Vic’s worry. “I’m sorry I scared you. Time seemed different to me. I wonder?—”

“More of the troll’s tricks?” Vic supplied.

Simon nodded. “The lore I found said time distortion along with visions and nightmares.”

He knew Vic’s expression from working cases together, analytical and focused. “If it’s the troll, he didn’t strike near the active lighthouse, which supports your theory that the working lights still have mojo,” Vic said.

“I think you’re right. I’m just not sure yet what to do about it.” Simon hadn’t missed that blanking out while driving or crossing the street would have been so much worse. “Although I think the amulets and protections are limiting what the troll can do.”

“He’ll get his strength back soon enough. We’re running out of time to figure this out,” Vic warned.

Simon took his hand and squeezed it. “I know. And I believe we’re going to find the answer.”

They stopped for lunch in nearby McClellanville, a tiny town known for its fishing industry. Vic opted for a restaurant that specialized in Cajun-Creole seafood, and they ate outside at a picnic table. The bright sunshine and cool temperatures made it a perfect day. Simon did his best to avoid dwelling on the time distortion incident, and Vic’s silence on the issue let him know that his partner was still analyzing what happened.

Next up were the Sullivan Island and Morris Island lights. The Morris Island tower near Folly Beach sat surrounded by water and marshland on a concrete footing, long defunct and deactivated. Simon got a very faint impression from it, barely a glimmer.

Sullivan Island, near Charleston, was still a working light, although no longer manned. Tourists weren’t allowed inside, but Simon and Vic got close, and Simon’s strong reading of its remaining power encouraged him.

“It’s still got a lot of juice,” he told Vic. “I think it and Georgetown will be the key anchors for this, with the other lighthouses feeding in.”

Hunting Island Lighthouse was a brick tower sheathed in cast iron. Over the decades, it had been relocated farther inland due to encroaching water. Despite looking to be in good condition after a recent renovation, it no longer functioned as a navigational tool. Simon picked up a faint resonance, enough to make him rethink keeping the less powerful lighthouses as part of the protections.

Simon remained alert but didn’t have the feeling of being watched. He and Vic added some extra protective charms in their pockets, just in case. He wondered whether the troll had exhausted his magic for the day or if their additional precautions made him draw back.

They stopped for dinner in Beaufort, another coastal town famous for its history, tourist attractions, and restaurants. The town was also known for its joking feud with Beaufort, NC, since while the towns were spelled the same, they were pronounced differently.

“North Carolina says ‘bow-fort,’” Simon told Vic. “Down here, we say ‘bew-fort.’ It’s an easy way to tell who’s from out of town.”

“Pittsburgh has the same kinds of things,” Vic replied, remembering his hometown. “Some of the river names are real tongue-twisters, like Monongahela and Youghiogheny. Or whether those potato-filled dumplings are pronounced ‘pi-ro-hee’ or ‘pi-ro-gee.’”

---