Page 33 of The Beast's Heart

“Well, maybe you don’t have to be anymore.”

With that, I turn and leave. It probably didn’t do anything to improve his mood, but at least I said my piece.

14

JONATHAN

Ray and I secretly planned an Easter egg hunt for the children. We ordered in chocolate eggs and even mapped out where we’d hide them around the grounds.

But late on Saturday night, I jerk awake as a crash tears through the house, rattling the windows and the walls. My heart jumps behind my ribs. I’m tangled in blankets, the room completely dark and the only clue to what woke me is the thunder still echoing across the sky above.

Bright white flashes through the room and, instantaneously, another clap of thunder so loud that my ears ring.

A scream sounds beyond my door, followed by my name being shrieked in a panicked little voice. I stumble out of bed. In the passage, I slam my palm onto the light switch, but nothing happens. I blink in sleep-addled confusion.

“Jonathan!”

“I’m here!” I call into the darkness.

I feel my way towards Ben’s room (second door on the right). But before I can get very far, he slams into my legs and wraps himself tightly around me, with his face buried against my stomach.

“Shhh.” I run my fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, it’s just a storm.”

Somewhere up ahead, Enrique is wailing.

“This is not just a storm!” Alisha shouts over the combined noise of the rain and his distress. Another rumble of thunder underscores her words. “It’s right here. We’re gonna get hit.”

“Where’s Mal?”

“I’m here, I’m not afraid,” he says from somewhere nearby, voice high pitched. When a clap sounds even closer and even louder than the one before, he screams along with the others. I hold Ben tightly, at a loss for how to comfort any of them when my own terror is nearly overwhelming.

The house is on high ground. What happens if it is hit? I’m a teacher. I should know. But my mind is foggy with sleep and terror.

A light sweeps across the passage and I hold one hand up to shield my eyes from its sudden onslaught. It illuminates Alisha, crouched with her back to her door, cradling a terrified Enrique to her chest.

“You all okay?” Adam’s voice asks behind the light. “Power’s out.”

I’m flooded with relief at his steady voice and presence in a way I can’t begin to understand right now.

“Did the house get hit?” Alisha asks.

“More likely the power line.”

Another clap and she jolts. Enrique’s fingers dig into her shoulders as he presses his head against her neck.

“All the same,” Adam says, “I’d feel more comfortable if everyone moved downstairs.”

“Of course. Lightning is more dangerous at elevation,” I say. The tremble in my voice betrays my fear, which is humiliating.

“More to the point,” Adam says, “there’s a fireplace.”

Right. The house isn’t connected to the gas grid. It’s warmed with electric radiators. With the power out, there’s no heat and, even this far into spring, the temperature still regularly dips below freezing overnight.

“Come on children,” I manage to detach Ben and take his hand instead. “Gather as many blankets and cushions as you can. This will be an adventure. Like camping.”

“I’m going upstairs to check the foundation equipment,” Adam says, turning away. “We’ll meet you down there. Get a fire started in the meantime.”

“Will you be safe?” I ask.

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