She glares at me, shivering convulsively. “You need to come inside!” she yells.
“You can’t be out in this weather!” I bellow at her. “You’ll get hurt.” What if she gets hit on the head by a flying branch? What if she slips and falls, and I can’t find her in the dark? What if she freezes out in the cold?
“So will you! Look, just come inside—” She snatches my hands and tries to pull me back towards the farmhouse. As she does, another deafening bellow of thunder vibrates everything around us. I look up at the yawning black of the sky, and my surroundings melt into memory.
It’s five years ago. I’m running full pelt through the rain. The engine of the forage harvester is still grinding. Under the mechanical sound, I can hear Cameron screaming. He’s trapped under a blade, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. My father isnear the front of the vehicle, crushed under the cab. I drop down to my knees at his side, my hands scrabbling on the slippery metal as I try to lift it off him. It’s too heavy. His face is slack and still, his body unmoving. For a moment, I’m sure he’s dead, but then he stirs and looks up at me.
No one knows this. Later, I would tell everyone that he was dead when I found him. But he’s not. He’s still alive.
“It’s going to be okay!” I shout at him over the rush of the rain, trying again to heave the vehicle off him. It doesn’t budge, and blood spurts across my hands, dripping down my wrists.
He makes a gurgling sound. “You…stupid…boy,” he hisses. My heart stops. “This is all…your…fault…” He pauses to hack out a cough. Blood is staining his teeth pink. “Wanted a night off, did you? Should have…known. You were always…soft. And now you’ve killed me. Just like you killed your poor mum.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I repeat breathlessly. The harvester creaks and groans ominously as the wind buffets it. “I can lift it off you.”
Lightning strikes overhead, the sky splitting open with bright white. My dad’s eyes flash with it. “Never should have had you,” he mutters. “You’re the reason…she’s dead. And you can’t even…run the farm right. Raising you was a waste of my goddamn life, Alexander. Go to hell.”
“Just stay still,” I gasp, wiping my hands on my soaking jeans. “Help will be here soon.”
He doesn’t respond. I keep frantically talking to him, but he’s gone still. When the next bolt of lightning illuminates the field, his eyes are glassy.
“Alec!”
I blink back to reality, looking down into Summer’s huge dark eyes. They’re bright and full of sympathy and so, soalive.“We have to get inside!” she shouts.
I nod numbly. I killed my father. I can’t let her die too. I grab her by the waist and start hauling her through the blistering rain back to the farmhouse. Her feet slip on the wet grass, but I hold her upright. When we reach the front door, I fling it open and shove her inside, slamming it shut behind us.
Immediately, the sound of the storm is muffled. Summer and I both stand, frozen and dripping on the mat. Summer wriggles in my arms, but I just drag her closer. Can’t let her go.
“Alec,” she gasps. “Just let me?—”
“No.” I hold her firmly.
“But—”
“JUST STAY STILL!” I bellow in her face. “Stayhere!”
She goes still in my grip. Then she buries herself into my chest, hugging me tightly. All of my muscles lock around her as she cuddles up to me.
“I’m fine,” she mumbles into the front of my coat. “You’re fine. It’s all okay.”
I press my cheek against her wet hair, panting. Slowly, the warmth of the room leaches into my bones. My heartbeat starts to slow. The panic electrifying my veins subsides.
I let Summer go. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. You scared me.”
“You scared me too,” she says simply. “Hang on. I’ll get us some towels.” She slips out of her shoes and disappears. I lean against the door as I shuck off my wet coat. What the hell is wrong with me?
I feel a nudge at my knee and reach down to stroke Scout’s soft head. Summer’s lamb is hiding behind him, peeping at me worriedly. “Good boy,” I tell Scout. “That’ll do. Go to bed.” Scout doesn’t move, his melted brown eyes locked on my face. “Bed,” I repeat. “I’m fine. I don’t need you right now.”
Scout just starts determinedly licking my hand. I’m not sure what he’s doing; he knows his daily routine. There’s no reasonhe’d think he’s on the clock this late in the evening. Then again, he often sticks to me during storms. I’ve wondered before if he’s scared of them.
Summer comes back dressed in a fluffy robe. She wraps a towel around my shoulders, then bends to rub Scout’s ears. “Don’t worry,” she tells the dog. “You can go to bed. I’ve got him.”
Scout gives me one last concerned lick, then pads away, gently herding Crumpet in front of him. I blink, confused by that whole interaction.
Summer straightens and gives me a smile. “I’ll warm up some leftovers,” she says.
I let the towel fall to the ground. I should go back outside. “Not hungry.”
