Lighthouse Landmines Novels & Stories

New words. Written before their eyes. THE LIGHTHOUSE. Silence. Then another line formed. GO TO THE LIGHTHOUSE. Lily frowned. "What lighthouse?" Then Thomas immediately answered. "The old one." Everyone turned. The old lighthouse sat on the northern cliffs. Abandoned for years. Nobody used it anymore. Most people avoided it. Then another sentence appeared. IT IS THE ONLY SAFE PLACE. The room erupted. "What?" "How?" "Why?" Nobody knew. Then suddenly the journal wrote again.

The riddle that wannabe magician Tyr gave me was pretty obvious. It's a lighthouse that is hiding the Golden Coin. And, luckily for us, there are a limited number of lighthouses in Nova Scotia. We're at number eight, and I have a good feeling about this one. "Let's go." I wave at the group I've selected to accompany me to the lighthouse while several more wait on the boat. It's a top team, and I couldn't be more prepared for whatever is to come next. I've fought and climbed my way into my position as Northeast Leader of the Silver Hunters, and it's been a long journey.

Damien drives to a storage unit on the edge of town and unlocks a metal door, revealing a stash of equipment, flashlights, rope, even a second handgun. I stare. “You were ready for this.” “I hoped I’d never need it,” he replies. He hands me a flashlight and a small can of pepper spray. “Stay close to me. No matter what happens, you don’t run off. Understand?” I nod, though fear twists through every nerve. The old lighthouse rises from the cliffs like a jagged tooth, waves crashing below. The storm has moved out to sea, leaving the night raw and sharp. We approach on foot, the path slick with rain. My flashlight beam cuts through the mist.

Ignatius asked, sitting up on the table, his chest heaving. "Looking at the view," Rafferty said. He stepped aside so Ignatius could see. Out in the dark water, far beyond the breakers, small lights flickered. They weren't stars. They were the navigation lights of six high-speed interceptor boats. On the ridge above the cottage, the silhouette of a man in tactical gear moved across the skyline, the moonlight glinting off a rifle barrel. Ignatius stood up, his face pale. "What is that? The police?"

said another Alpha, Sasha's voice. "All three," Garrett confirmed. "Northern, eastern, western. The minefield deployment happened while we were managing the Assembly ratification. The Leviathan coordinated the placement." He looked at his notes. "Zephyr-Pattern Ionization Spheres, based on Marcus's preliminary scan data from this morning. Proximity-fused. Any mass transit attempt triggers chain detonation." "So we can't resupply from outside," Torr said. "Not through the passes," Garrett said. "Not with anything large enough to matter."

"Oh that big arrow? That's the arrow we used to spear big fish," "Are there many here?" "Look at that boat, almost every fisherman has one, so what?" Uncle Bob pointed out the ship moored in the harbor near the lighthouse. At the fore and aft of the ship were these large arrows. "Hmm no, just something that crossed my mind." I then climbed the stairs and when I got to the top, it turned out that the lighting was made of a burning wood fire that was highlighted by a circular concave glass. "Isn't it dangerous to make a fire here?"

Byron raised his fist and started to cheer silently in the water as he could not talk while Max let out a loud roar that shook the cave. ‘Thank you, Max.’ I sent out my message to him. ‘More ships. No. One ship coming.’ It informed me. True enough, we saw a light coming inside the cave. Trei tapped my shoulder immediately and pointed at the device in his hands before pointing at the light. ‘Must attack. Protect my masters!’ Just before Max’s tentacles could teach the new incoming ship, I immediately reached into Max’s mind. ‘Stop stop! They’re with us. Don’t destroy it.’

It looked like something from the 19th century. "Finch," Jack called to the cockpit. "Set course for coordinates 42.3 North, 71.1 West." "Sir?" Finch’s voice sounded surprised. "That's... that's the Old Safehouse. The 'Lighthouse' protocol?" "The Lighthouse," Jack confirmed. "It’s the only place the System never mapped." "Understood," Finch said. "Changing course. ETA 4 hours." Jack leaned back, closing his eyes. The Lighthouse. It was a myth among the Hunters. A sanctuary built by the founders of the Guild before the corruption set in. Before the Council. Before the System. It was a place for ghosts. And right now, that’s exactly what they were.

She went to the library, which held the exit of the house. Stepping outside, she could hear the guards whispering as they enjoyed their meals before continuing their duties. They were so lost in their meals that they didn’t notice Isabella tiptoeing away, walking across the vast grounds, careful not to step on any landmines. Almost every mafia organization and the mobsters in the Declan clans knew there were landmines scattered all over Alessio's territory; what they didn’t know was that they were fake. "I hope I don’t step on any landmines" she muttered Maybe I should just go back inside, I don’t want to die." She turned to go back when someone stabbed her from behind.

They still wanted the Vessel. The Descent We reached the base of the Phare de Sainte-Marie, the ancient lighthouse that marked the end of the pier. Ethan turned, emptying his magazine into a group of scavengers who had intercepted us from the lower docks, their makeshift armor no match for his calculated precision. "The panel!" he roared. I slammed my back against the cold, salt-encrusted stone of the lighthouse base. My fingers searched for the hidden seam in the masonry. I found a small, recessed glass plate. I leaned in, my eye wide as a red laser swept across my iris.