The last person Cooper spoke with before he and Chelsea reached the top was Mr. C., who had apparently searched every inch of the park that everyone else hadn’t—and, just like the rest of them, did not find any sign of the seeds.
“Man,” Cooper said just before they reached the top of the lighthouse. “I’m starting to get discouraged.”
Chelsea patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t. Something will happen.”
“I hope so.”
They opened the door and walked onto the deck that encircled the light. The view of the surrounding area—the ocean, the beach, the park below—was stunning.
“That was exhausting,” Cooper said.
“It was,” Chelsea replied. “Breathe deep, it’ll help.”
Cooper did as she suggested, inhaling and exhaling very slowly.
Then he made a face. “Hey, do you smell something?”
“Yeah, I noticed that too. It’s like…when my dad puts wood in the fireplace.”
“Right, that smoky kind of scent. Except…”—he sniffed the air—“it’s stronger than that. More, I don’t know…harsh. Nastier.”
Chelsea nodded. “Yes, that’s a good word—nastier. Like—”
They looked to each other at the same time, their eyes wide. “A devil!” they both said.
“Fire!” Chelsea exclaimed.
“Brimstone!” Cooper exclaimed back.
“Quick—look for clues!”
“Right!”
No sooner had they gone to the other side of the deck when they found a crumpled wad of paper lying on the floor.
Cooper snatched it up. “Wow, look at the burn marks!”
It was charred around the outside, as if it had been put close to extreme heat.
