I don’t have an answer for that.
A loud crack of thunder shakes the house. The lights flicker once, twice, and then die. We’re plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the orange glow of the fire and the occasional flash of lightning outside.
“Great,” Knox says. “Power’s out.”
“The wood stove will keep the kitchen warm,” I say, standing up. “I’ll check the doors. Make sure they’re latched.”
“I’ll get more wood,” Knox says, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. “If we’re stuck here, we’re going to need a lot of it.”
Rhett nods. “I’ll check on her.”
“Don’t,” I say automatically. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
“She shouldn’t be alone in the dark,” Rhett says. “Not in this mood. If she hurts herself...”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. We all remember the splinter. The fall in the culvert.
“Fine,” I say. “But wear a cup.”
Rhett gives me a wry smile and heads down the hall.
I walk to the front door, checking the lock. It’s secure. I move to the windows, checking the latches. The wind is screaming now, a high-pitched whine that sounds like a train whistle.
The storm is here.
I stand by the window for a moment, looking out at the yard. I can barely see the bonfire pit now, just a faint orange glow in the rain that has started to fall. The bike is covered in a tarp Knox threw over it.
We are trapped. All four of us. Locked in this house with a history of resentment and a future of uncertainty.
I walk back to the fireplace. Knox is stoking the flames, adding a new log.
“She’s going to burn the house down with us in it,” I say, sinking into the armchair.
“Maybe,” Knox says, sitting back on the floor, his back against the sofa. “But at least we’ll die warm.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. It’s a short, humorless sound, but it breaks the tension.
“Rhett’s right,” I say after a minute. “She’s scared.”
“Aren’t we all?” Knox asks, looking up at the ceiling. “If the circuit folds... I don’t know what I’ll do, Boone. This ranch is the only thing keeping me sane.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, repeating the lie I told myself earlier. “We always do.”
“Yeah,” Knox says. “But for now, we survive the night.”
Down the hall, I hear voices. Rhett’s low rumble, and Saramaria’s higher pitched tone. They aren’t shouting. It sounds like... talking.
Maybe Rhett can get through to her. Maybe he can find a crack in that armor she’s wearing.
Or maybe she’s just loading the shotgun.
I lean my head back against the chair and close my eyes. The fire warms my face. The wind howls outside. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. But tonight, we’re here. We’re fed. We’re warm.
For now, that has to be enough.
Saramaria
The beam of the flashlight cuts through the darkness of the hallway, a cone of white light that illuminates dust motes dancing in the still air. Rhett walks beside me. I can feel his mood radiating off him, that calm, Beta-like patience he wears like a cloak.
