Chapter 62 Alec
SIXTY-TWO
ALEC
Iwake up to a soft baa. I groan and roll over, my head thick and foggy with sleep. There’s another insistent baa, and then something nudges me. I blearily push myself upright, looking around.
I’m on the sofa in the lounge. The room is dark. The fire has banked, the coals glowing orange behind the grate. Summer is curled up under my arm, fast asleep. As I look down at her, something warms inside me.
She’s staying. She wants to stay.
It feels unbelievable. A few weeks ago, I didn’t even know her. But she’s changed everything.
She’s ours now.
A sudden flash of lightning cracks through the lounge, illuminating everything in stark white. I stiffen as the windowpanes all rattle ominously. A few seconds later, a deep roll of thunder rumbles overhead. The storm must be right on top of us.
Shit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I must have been so comfortable that my body forgot to be alert.
There’s another loud baa. I look down. Crumpet is standing on the rug, looking up at me with huge eyes.
“Hey,” I murmur to her. “You’re due a feed. Are you hungry?”
She baas even louder. “Okay, okay,” I mumble. Summer murmurs in her sleep as I carefully extricate myself from under her and settle her back onto the sofa, tucking the blanket over her. “Come on then,” I tell Crumpet, heading into the kitchen.
Crumpet trots after me, her little feet patting against the tile.
I blearily go to the sink to make up a bottle, squinting automatically out of the window.
It’s dark as pitch outside, as if someone’s pasted sheets of black paper against the panes.
I can hear the horrific roar of the wind and the raindrops slamming against the glass.
As I peer through the darkness, there’s another flash of lightning which illuminates the landscape. Every muscle in my body freezes.
There’s a gaping black hole in the roof of the lambing barn.
In half a second, the world goes black again, and I stand there locked in place. I’m breathing hard, panic drenching through me.
No. No. There’s no way. Surely I imagined it. I’m still half asleep.
Crumpet baas again, more insistently this time. I wait. A lifetime later, there’s another crack of lightning, and I stare in horror at the barn as it’s lit up in horrific black and white.
The front of the roof is gone. It’s caved in. The roof has caved in.
I’m moving before I know it, running to the front door. Crumpet scampers along at my feet, baaing loudly as I shove my feet into my boots, fingers fumbling at the light switch. Another roll of thunder. The windows all shudder again. What the hell have I done?
“Alec?” I turn to see Summer sitting up on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes.
“The barn’s been damaged,” I tell her. “A tree must have fallen and hit the roof.”
She’s immediately awake. “What?”
I grab a lamp and pull open the front door. I’m instantaneously blasted with a sheet of icy raindrops. The wind screams like an enraged banshee, sending all the curtains in the cabin fluttering and the furniture rattling.
“Stay here,” I order Summer. “Lock Scout in the bathroom; if he realises what’s happening, he’ll try and come out to help—”
She slides off the sofa. “What? But it’s pitch-black out. And you said the weather—”
“Stay,” I snap. Then I step out into the blustery night and slam the door shut behind me. I stab the button on my lamp, but the weak light it throws is immediately swallowed by the darkness. I can only see a foot in front of me, my eyes blurring with stinging raindrops.
It doesn’t matter. Bowing my head into the wind, I start my trek towards the lambing shed, blindly letting my feet guide the way.
The wind rips at my coat, slamming into me so hard I stagger back every few steps.
Over its screaming howl, I can faintly hear sheep—the high, distressed sound of the ewes and their lambs crying in the barn. God. Are they hurt? Are any dead?
I squeeze my eyes shut, ploughing forwards. I have to get to them.
You stupid boy, my father’s voice snarls in my head.
He’s right. This is all my fault.