Hogan’s Harbour was black as death, except for an occasional little glimmer from homes where the owners had been prepared for the storm. Barry’s truck was the only thing moving on the road. It was tricky to maneuver and stay on course with the rain whipping across the windshield so rapidly that the location of the actual road was mostly left to guess work. A flash of lightening suddenly struck the truck. They all flinched, but it was short-lived. Barry slowed down, for even without good vision he was familiar enough with the area, to know where they were. They didn’t need to travel any further; they had finally come to their destination. They were now parked on the other side of the bluff. A short walk would take them to the rocky beach that had been gazing up at Jumpers Bluff for centuries. Now that they were closer to the ocean, they could smell it and hear the rough

waves angrily crashing upon the rocks. But for their alternate blinking flashlights, all was black. It had become impossible to battle the ominous feelings welling up inside them. The grassy path had come to an end. Their boots had hit the beach; uneven slippery rocks and slimy seaweed, slowing their pace. They stayed together and shone their lights out in all directions, the wind and rain pounding at them without mercy. Barry looked up into the rain and held his flashlight steadily toward Jumpers Bluff. Slowly, he moved the light directly down until the beach underneath was glowing, in spite of the darkness. His heart almost stopped when he caught sight of something lying on the shoreline. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and try to find his voice to get the others’ attention. “Guys,” he said weakly, “I found something.”