An arc of lightening cut across the pitch black sky with a deafening boom of thunder arriving in its wake. The sea far below churned and rose with terrifying might, constantly sending wave after wave to beat against the impassive black stone of the cliffs. The lighthouse, though appearing feeble and derelict during the day, stood as an impassive observer of the battle between land and sea raging beyond it. Through the wind and rain, a minuscule light could be seen at the top of the lighthouse, trying desperately to stay alive through the apocalyptic weather.
Eva finished lighting her Marlboro Black, tucking her neon pink zippo lighter deep into the folds of her black cloak, and continued staring out at the water as she smoked. The rain pelted her face and drenched her clothing, while the wind ripped at her cloak and threatened to send her flying off the lighthouse and into the sea she was transfixed by. In her head, Eva scoffed at this idea. While this storm was a mighty one, she had seen worse in her many years traveling the globe.
Absentmindedly, Eva thought of Ireland and the Cliffs of Moher. She could remember neither the assignment nor the year, but she remembered the storm clear as day. She had been hiding in a small cave near the cliffs, waiting for someone or something to happen, when she had been blinded by a flash of light outside and soon after felt the cave shake so violently she assumed the Earth itself was breaking apart. When her sight returned and the cave resumed its stillness, she peeked outside toward the water and became dumbstruck. A mile or so off the cliffs, a huge funnel of water had arisen all the way to the sky as lightening shot around it. Eva swore she could see the waves from below licking the tops of the cliffs, seemingly teasing the land of the immediate attack from the sea. She had tried to run from the cave, but the wind that night truly lifted her up and threw her back into the cave. As if the invisible hand of God were telling her to stay put. The land, the sea, and the sky were fighting and no creature, supernatural or otherwise, had any right to interfere. For the first time in a long time Eva thought she would die there, either killed by the storm or trapped until the sun rose and burned her alive.
Another booming of thunder snapped Eva out of her trance and her attention turned to the movement under her clothes. She sighed and made her way back into the lighthouse. She sat at the wooden table and placed her right hand gingerly on the table. “It’s ok. You can come out now.” A small black snake slithered out from the sleeve of Eva’s coat and curled itself in front of her. It’s blood red eyes stared at her blankly, occasionally flicking its tongue out at her in a questioning manner. “He’ll be here soon Balthazar. He’s a rat, but a reliable one. He wouldn’t have set up this meeting if he wasn’t going to be here.” With that, Eva leaned back in her chair and listened to the symphony of the storm as she waited.