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“How are you planning to get in there?” said Jamie as we rounded the corner of the fishing hut. It was raised on stilts and looked pretty dilapidated. I could see that it used to be painted, but the paint was peeling and the windows were grimy. Still. Any port in a storm, as they say. I was completely soaked and could already feel the cold beginning to numb me.
I tried the handle of the door, but it was locked. So, I raised my foot and kicked. The rusted lock gave way, and there was a crack as the door opened.
I stepped inside and let Jamie go in. There weren’t any lights, of course. But feeling on the floor of the cabin, I found something. It was old and grimy, made of glass. I pulled a torch from my bag and switched it on to inspect the device.
“It’s an old gas lamp,” I said. “I think I can light it.”
“Light it?” said Jamie. “That thing?”
“Sure,” I said. “They’re pretty old, but it feels heavy. Probably still works. They built these things to last.”
I reached into my bag pulled out a axe and used it to bar the door shut against the howling wind. There, in the darkness, I found a box of matches and lit one.
With my free hand, I turned the latch and opened the gas lamp. Turning the valve on the bottom, finding my way with the match, I heard it release a low hiss.
“Let there be light,” I murmured, and a blue flame sprang to life.
“I guess I’ll just make myself comfortable,” said Jamie, staring at the inside of the cabin.
While the rain hammered down outside, I adjusted the lamp and we inspected the cabin. It wasn’t abandoned. The place was furnished and the floors looked as though they’d been swept. I imagined it was probably a summer house for folks from the mainland.
“Wow,” said Jamie. “You think we’re gonna get in trouble for breaking in here?”
“I’ll find out who the owner is and get them a new door lock,” I muttered. “In the meantime, help me get the power on. I need some more light in here.”
Eventually, we found a switchboard out back, and before long Jamie had taken off her wet coat and sat down on one of the couches while I tried to use my phone. I tried to turn it on, but it had gotten soaked through my clothes and it wasn’t working.
I tried my other phone—the GPS phone which was locked onto the satellite by which I’d found Jamie. But to my utter surprise, it didn’t pick us up.
“What?” I murmured. The machine had no problem triangulating Jamie’s phone. But now we were stranded out here, in an isolated location by the sea. Miles away from anyone or anything that could help.
“Any signal on your cellphone?” I asked.
Jamie looked in her pocket and got out her enormous phone. It was covered with a pink plastic case covered with love hearts. Even I couldn’t resist cracking a smile while she checked it.
“Nope,” said Jamie. “I think the battery’s dead.”
“Portable charger?” I said.
“Well, yeah, in my car,” she said.
“Your car?”
Jamie’s car was a forty-five-minute walk back to where she’d been stranded. There was no way we were getting back there tonight. Not in the storm.
“Okay,” I sighed. “So, we’ve got no car. No phone. No way of getting out of here. What’s the solution?”
“Beats me,” said Jamie. “Maybe we could go out and try and get some help?”
“Not in this,” I said. “Look, it’s fine. I have an emergency blip.”
“A what?”
“A blip. It’s sort of like a pager. I can pull it, and Paul will be here with the chopper once the storm’s over.”
“Where is it?” said Jamie.
I lifted my arm and pointed at it. For a moment, Jamie didn’t understand. Then her eyes widened.
