I joltawake hours later to the book flat on my chest and the lamp still on, bathing my bedroom in a soft glow. Is that what woke me?
Maybe, but I don’t think so.
It’s still pitch-black outside, but a quick check of my phone tells me it’s almost four in the morning. I lie there for a bit, almost convinced that it was the light being left on, but then I hear it.
A cry. No, awhine.
My heart misses a beat as my imagination runs riot. I eye Charlie’s book and scowl. There is nothing out there.
Then I hear it again.
Right.
I throw off the covers and pull on my sleep pants and a hoodie. Phone in hand I head downstairs to find out what’s making that fucking noise.
I am absolutely not scared.
At all.
At least it’s not raining.
Pulling my boots on, I grab a torch from under the sink and unlock the back door.
Silence.
The outside lights we put up earlier are still on—something else I forgot—but can’t say I’m all that bothered right now. They cast enough light that I relax a little.
I strain to listen for the noise again, but there’s just the sound of the countryside at night. Might as well check around a bit now I’m out here.
It was probably foxes.
Wouldn’t surprise me if?—
“Hey.”
“Ahh!” I jump a mile in the air, my phone sailing onto the grass. “JesusChrist.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I bend over, clutching my chest, willing my heart to slow down. “You’re trying not to laugh, aren’t you?”
“Nope.”
He so is.
“Go ahead, let it out.” I straighten up as he lets out a chuckle.
“I didn’t know you could jump that high.”
“Fuck off.” I nudge him with my shoulder, and he grins. “I blame your book.”
“Oh?” His eyes light up. “You’re still reading it then?”
“Of course I am. It’s?—”
There it is again.
Charlie looks at me, eyes wide. “You heard that, right? I didn’t imagine it?”
