34
Darana
The world shatters in a flash unlike anything I remember ever seeing before.
It’s not just any flash of lightning—far from it.
It’s a slashing blade of blinding white light that tears the sky from one end to the other.
For a split second, all of Birdsong Hills is suspended in a perfect negative image.
I see every detail: the wooden fences, the eucalyptus trees bending like reeds beneath the deluge—because yes, now it’s raining furiously—and the outline of every building.
Even the raindrops are frozen in midair like glass needles.
But then comes the worst.
The thunder cracks with such brutal force that it squeezes my ribs and pierces my chest. I feel the vibration in my teeth, and I grab hold of the doorframe of the main house, nearly losing my balance, as a second flash of lightning illuminates the northern hills.
“Shit…”
That damned metal structure, planted atop the ridge like an iron sentinel, glows beneath that infernal light and explodes in a shower of purple sparks.
But the lightning isn’t content with merely destroying the repeater.
The brutal shock wave and ground strike hit the hilltop directly, fracturing the surface rock.
That impact is the fatal trigger for a hillside already saturated by days of storms: in an instant, thousands of metric tons of red mud, rocks, and eucalyptus roots surge down the hill in a colossal avalanche, swallowing everything in its path.
My heart skips a beat, somersaulting in my chest and leaving me breathless as I calculate its path.
One of the stables is directly in its path.
“No, no, no… Please, no!” I whisper, feeling panic set in.
Behind me, hurried footsteps echo across the wooden floor. My aunt Elizabeth appears and grabs my denim jacket.
“Darana, for heaven’s sake, what was that? You’re soaking wet!”
I turn toward her, water dripping from my hat and my racing pulse pounding in my temples.
“The repeater blew up, and the hillside collapsed,” I blurt out hurriedly, wiping the curtain of water from my eyes. “I have to get the animals to safety!”
Elizabeth’s face pales, and her brow furrows in horror. She grips my arms, trying to physically hold me back.
“What about Bert and Ricky? Tell me they weren’t there with the new foals.”
“I think… yes,” I reply, a knot forming in my stomach. “I saw them before it started raining. I can’t just leave them there.”
“You’re crazy! That’s a death trap!” she shouts with a distress she rarely shows. “It could cost you your life, Darana! Communications are down, and the hillside keeps giving way. Don’t be reckless!”
I stare at her intently from beneath the brim of my soaked hat. Right now, I’m not the woman who learned to weather storms with gritted teeth. I’m the sister who made a sacred promise at Elijah’s deathbed. The true legacy of this ranch.
“I don’t give a damn about the risk, Auntie,” I snap with such rage that my voice trembles. “I swore to Elijah that I’d protect this place at all costs. These animals are all we have left of him. And that’s what I’m going to do, no matter what it takes.”
My brother’s name hangs in the air. My aunt closes her eyes, swallows her tears, and, with tremendous resignation, squeezes my hand.
“Then come back,” she pleads. “Come back, Darana. Don’t leave me alone in this damn desert.”
I don’t promise her anything. Because I don’t know if I can.
I pull my hat down over my eyebrows, button up my jacket, and run out onto the porch.
· · ·
As I step outside, the slap of wind and rain takes my breath away. The air is alive, crackling with the static charge Camila described.
I pull the walkie-talkie from my belt and press the button with fingers numb from the rain.
“Bert?! Ricky?! Can you hear me? Answer me, damn it!”
All I get is static, a high-pitched beep that the wind swallows with contempt. The device is dead. Damn communications never fail when you want to order a beer, but they leave you stranded in the middle of the end of the world.
I run toward the main barn and can already hear Byron going wild, kicking at the planks and snorting with bloodshot eyes.
“Hey, boy… hold still. It’s me,” I announce, barging into the stall without hesitation and grabbing his bridle firmly to force him to look at me. “We’ve got to help the guys, but we’ll be together, okay?”
I struggle to saddle him. The horse is stiff, his ears pinned back, but my hands move by rote, tightening the girth as fast as I can while the wind makes the roof panels rattle. I yank on the reins, brace myself in the stirrup, and leap into the saddle in one bound.
“We have to save those foals, Byron. Giddyup!”
We burst out of the stable at a breakneck pace, seeking patches of firm ground as his hooves kick up clumps of mud.
The terrain is a veritable quagmire. The mud has turned into a viscous mass that tries to suck his legs in, forcing him into a short, heavy gallop.
But Byron is pure Birdsong Hills muscle, and we’ve never been defeated by a little mud.
In an instant, he leaps over flooded ditches and weaves through streams of water without slowing down, his nostrils flared wide and his hoarse breathing rivaling the thunder.
The rain lashes my face like buckshot, blinding me, but I don’t allow myself to slow down. Only one thing keeps repeating in my head: the trapped foals, my men in danger, and the memory of Elijah.
As I reach the crest, the disaster hits me full in the face. Byron plants his hooves firmly, snorting and trembling from the effort. The hillside is an open wound. The mud has already swept away entire logs, sharp rocks, and the twisted remains of the repeater.
The stable is still standing, but it’s a pitiful sight. Part of the metal roof has collapsed beneath the weight of the mud, and the back wall is warped, buckling every few seconds.
“Bert! Ricky!” I bellow with all my might.
“Here! We’re inside!” Ricky’s voice answers, broken by panic.
I leap off the horse before he comes to a complete stop, sinking knee-deep into the mud. After tying the reins to the post and making sure Byron will be okay despite the rain, I run into the structure.
What I see is a house of horrors.
The foals are out of control, crowding together, whinnying in panic, and slamming against the wood. Bert, soaked to the bone and with a distraught look on his face, tries to stop the stampede with a rope while Ricky braces his back against the side door to hold it against the wind’s onslaught.
“Darana!” Ricky exclaims as he sees me come in like a whirlwind. “Thank goodness! This dump is about to collapse! The beams are creaking like crazy!”
No sooner does he say it than a terrifying creak from the old wood proves him right, followed by a thunderous crash that shakes the foundations. We shouldn’t have assumed they’d be safe in this area.
“We have to open the rear gates!” I shout, pushing my way through the animals. “We have to get them out now before the roof buries them! Move!”
“Are you crazy, Darana?!” Bert yells at me, trying to dodge a kick from a foal. “There’s a mud pit out there, and they’ll scatter all over the hills!”
“I’d rather search for live horses in the desert than dig up corpses from the rubble!” I cut him off, my temper flaring as I fix him with a look that brooks no argument. “Ricky, go with Bert and use Byron to help you! I’m going for the rear gate!”
Weaving through the kicks and sweaty bodies of the animals thrashing about in a frenzy, I reach the escape hatch. It’s completely jammed shut. The wood has swollen from the moisture, and the mud outside is acting as a stopper.
“Come on, you piece of junk… open up!” I growl, clenching my teeth until my jaw creaks.
I brace myself against the wood, shift all my weight onto my right shoulder, and shove with a cry of desperation. The wood groans, gives way a couple of inches, and I brace myself to shove again, with everything on the line.
BAM!
The hatch bursts outward, swinging open with a bang. A gush of water hits me with the force of a truck, nearly knocking me backward into the mud.
“Now!” I howl, my lungs in tatters. “Drive them out! Get them out of here!”
Chaos reigns. The foals, seeing the light of freedom, don’t think twice and shoot out into the storm—terrified but safe.
They surge through the exit, disappearing into the curtain of water.
Bert and Ricky scream themselves hoarse, bellowing to guide them into a line and keep them from being crushed.
“There are two left, Darana!” Ricky bellows, pointing toward the back with wide eyes. “They’re paralyzed with fear!”
I spin around. The two youngest foals are huddled against the center beam, trembling like jelly, their pupils dilated. I approach them slowly, swallowing my panic and trying to keep my voice steady.
“Come on, little ones… come to Mama,” I say calmly, holding out my hands. “Come on out. We have to go.”
One of the foals takes a frightened step back and kicks the structure with his hind legs.
And at that very moment, the damn universe decides to turn off the lights.
Lightning strikes just a few yards away. The impact produces a deafening boom that shakes the ground like an earthquake. The main beam above our heads splits lengthwise with a crack that sounds like a shotgun blast.
I look up. The wood splinters above me, and I see it coming in slow motion.
“GET OUT!” I bellow, shoving the last foal hard toward the exit gate. The animal shoots out like a rocket, saving his own skin.
But I’m not so lucky.
The main beam gives way completely with a colossal crash. I try to throw myself to the side, but a massive piece of wood strikes me squarely across the shoulder and back, sending me crashing onto the muddy ground.
A sharp, burning, brutal pain shoots through my body.
And then… the screen fades to black. The world goes dark amid the smoke, the mud, and absolute darkness.