Stormlight's Reckoning

I snatched the radio receiver before the dampness could kill it, the speaker spitting out a static-choked plea. 'Beacon 42... we’re taking on water... heavy cargo... don’t call the authorities... just get us out.' I glanced at the barometer; it had plunged to a depth I’d never seen. Outside, the Atlantic had transformed into a black beast, devouring the jagged coastline. My name is Julian, and my job is to keep the light burning, not to play judge or savior in the maw of a hurricane. I wiped the condensation from the glass with my sleeve. Two miles out, emergency strobes were flickering—a smal...