DISCLAIMER: Everything you see in this story belongs to someone else.

1912

COAST OF MAINE

"You just gonna sit there, Rider?"

"I'm being the lookout," Flynn answered. "Isn't that important?"

"Doesn't mean you can't row, too," the elder Stabbington snapped back as his brother grunted in agreement.

When they looked away from him once more, Flynn reached into his satchel and took out their latest catch. The tiara was much lighter than it looked; not an unimpressive feat, considering what was on it. The pure gold was inlaid with rubies, pearls, whatever those blue stones were and three large diamonds in the shape of a blossom. "I guess the Metropolitan can't go on about its top-notch security anymore, huh?"

His partners gave him cursory glances but said nothing.

"How much do you think this will go for?" he continued. "Ten thousand? Hundred thousand?"

"We won't know if the coppers catch up to us. Now start rowing."

"Maybe they'll finally get my nose right on the wanted posters. They always get yours right. Why is that?"

"Rider!"

"Fine, fine." Putting the satchel away, Flynn picked up an oar and started rowing. "How much longer is this going to take?" he asked, shivering from the early morning drizzle.

"Until they stop looking for us."

He looked ahead. "Why don't we rest for a while?"

"What, out here?"

"I was thinking up there, but whatever you want..."

A tall, dark shape was materializing from the fog. As they came closer, it revealed itself to be a lighthouse. The light had gone out, and the white paint that covered the structure was chipping away. A weathered, rickety dock extended from the rocky island, reaching out towards the travelers.

"I don't like the look of it," said the elder Stabbington.

"Why not?" answered Flynn. "Seems deserted, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, seems. What'll we do if someone's there?"

"Word doesn't get around that quickly. Now come on, I'm freezing!"

The brothers sighed, but they stopped the little boat at the edge of the dock. One by one, the men climbed up the ladder and started towards the lighthouse. It looked even gloomier up close. A long flight of worn stairs led to a set of water-stained wooden doors, one of which hung slightly ajar.

"Hello?" Flynn called out, knocking lightly. "Anyone home?" Hearing no response, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was all but bare. The only piece of furniture was a small table in front of a pillar, and the only light came from a sputtering candle perched atop it. Next to the candle was a metal tub filled with murky water, and on the pillar hung a framed rectangle of needlework; OF THY SINS SHALL I WASH THEE.

"Nice," Flynn muttered, glancing at the water. "You have fun with that."

Another flight of stairs wound up to the next floor, and the faint sound of voices could be heard from above. The Stabbingtons took the lead this time, loading their guns as they walked. A second piece of needlework hung on the wall; FROM SODOM SHALL I LEAD THEE. Okay, now that's just weird, Flynn thought.

There was more furniture on the second floor; a desk, a sink, a bed, some cupboards, a wardrobe. The voices were only the warbling of a radio. "Gimme that old time religion, that old time religion, that old time religion, it's good enough for me...!"

The elder Stabbington switched it off. "Can't stand that song."

Flynn was rummaging around in a cupboard. "Look!" he exclaimed, ceremoniously pulling out a can and pouring out its contents. "Money!"

The coins were made of silver. On one side were the images of a scroll, sword and key. On the other was an angel, and above that was the word Columbia. They were old coins, dirty and wearing down.

"What kind of money is that?" the elder Stabbington asked, looking at them suspiciously.

"I don't know. Silver is silver, isn't it?" Flynn approached the wardrobe and started to open it. "Maybe there's some more in — AAAHHH!"

The men jumped back as a skeleton held together only by rotting flesh and muscle tumbled from the wardrobe and slumped to the floor. Its jaw was frozen in a scream, and its neck had been snapped.

The Stabbingtons' eyes darted to the flight of stairs leading upwards. "Go check it out, Rider."

"What? Why does it have to be me?"

"This was your idea."

"Don't I...? Oh, fine." Giving them one last scowl, Flynn turned and trudged up the stairs past more needlework; IN NEW EDEN SOIL SHALL I PLANT THEE. "Alright, we get it!"

The stairs led back outside and onto the deck in front of the lantern room. Flynn flinched as the icy drops of water hit his face. When we sell the jewels on that tiara, I'm moving someplace where it doesn't rain. There was a barrel containing boxes of ammo at one end of the deck, but nothing more. He was turning to head back downstairs when the door of the lantern room caught his eye. Attached to it were three bells, each engraved with one of the symbols from the coin.

After looking back to make sure that his partners weren't following him, Flynn cautiously rang the bells. The one with the key made a higher sound than the one with the scroll, he found, and the one with the sword was higher than them both. He began to experiment, ringing them multiple times and in different orders. One, two, three. Three, two, one. One, two, two...

VWOOM! VWOOM!

The cloudy sky glowed red as the deep blaring of a horn came from above to pierce the morning silence. The lighthouse answered back with a red glow of its own, and then the light inside began to spin around. Flynn watched as it ascended and was replaced by a new platform that rose up from the floor. Carried on it was a curled-up object that proceeded to fold out into a red leather chair.

The Stabbingtons appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "What did you do, Rider?"

"I don't know!" Flynn shouted back. He stared out at the sea and glimpsed the lights of approaching boats. "They're coming!" he yelled, trying to run back down. The rusty stairs gave way at his touch and collapsed, however, leaving him stranded on the deck. "Quick, throw me the satchel. There's ammo up here. I'll toss it down and you can hold them off," he added when answered with suspicious looks.

The elder Stabbington continued to stare, but he eventually removed the satchel and tossed it to Flynn. "Now give us the ammo!"

Flynn paused for a moment, and then a smile spread across his face. "Sorry, boys. My hands are full!" Slipping the satchel over his shoulder, he darted into the lantern room and locked it behind him.

"Rider!"

"Enjoy prison!" Flynn laughed as he sat in the chair. "I'll miss the sound of your laughter — "

CLANK.

Two sets of metal bands abruptly snapped shut over his wrists, trapping him in the chair. "Make yourself ready, pilgrim," a robotic voice said. "The bindings are there as a safeguard."

"What...?"

Several metallic panels shot up from the floor and snapped shut around Flynn, creating a capsule. The platform tipped and swung downwards, bringing Flynn face to face with a field of fire created by four charging boosters. "No, no, no...aw, come on!" he cried as his gun slipped from its holster and was incinerated.

"Ascension," the voice said when the platform returned to its upright position.

"No! No ascension!"

"Ascension. Ascension in five, four, three, two one."

Flynn screamed as the shuttle flew from the lighthouse into the sky. Through the window in the front panel, he could see the earth rapidly disappear beneath him into a wall of cloud. "Five thousand feet," the voice proclaimed. "Ten thousand feet. Fifteen thousand feet."

The sky was beginning to turn blue. The shuttle broke through the clouds, and then...

"Hallelujah."

"...Wow..."