Sentinel by Joshua Winning Read Free Book Online Page B

strange to cry in the rain. The sky darkened and a drone of thunder threatened to tear the heavens in half. It was time to get back inside.
    The boy turned, then stopped.
    The herd of Red Polls had lined up in front of him, barring his way. They were unnervingly still, staring stupidly at him with goggly eyes that were both vacant and oddly sinister.
    “What the–” Nicholas uttered. He knew cows were curious, but he’d never seen a herd brave a downpour like this just to get a closer look at somebody. He was rooted to the spot.
    “Shoo!” he yelled.
    The cows merely gawped at him. The rain drove into their tough hides and they must be freezing, but the animals didn’t seem to care. Hot breath steamed from their nostrils.
    Nicholas considered for a moment, then began moving slowly towards them, one hand outstretched in front of him. The cows still refused to move. Every one of those lopsided alien eyes was fixed intently on him, as if the creatures were trying to read the boy’s thoughts. Or, Nicholas found himself thinking, wondering what his blood would taste like.
    His heart pounding now, Nicholas pushed forward until he was mere feet away from the wall of hide and hoof. Through the mizzling air, the image of the creatures swam. Nicholas wiped at his face.
    Then, quite remarkably, as his outstretched hand trembled inches away from the snout at the line-up’s centre, the creature began to back away. As if they’d choreographed the whole thing, the beasts parted, and fell clumsily to their knees. The way was suddenly clear.
    Nicholas didn’t pause to ponder this new oddity. He beat his shoes into the wet ground and ran all the way home without looking back.
    Later, Tabatha made them dinner, but Nicholas had no appetite. He put his plate in the sink and slunk off to his room.
    When evening arrived, he lazed in the lounge, where the hearth crackled and the double-glazing dulled the thrum of the storm. He sat on the window seat, peering out across the overcast Common. The cows were back under their tree again, sheltering against the showers.
    Tabatha was curled up on the sofa reading a women’s magazine, the cover of which was ornamented with articles like ‘Make Your Own Teapot Cosy!’ and ‘Try The Sat Fat Diet – Lose Weight In Just Two Weeks!’
    “Have you ever made a teapot cosy?” he asked.
    “What? Oh, I think I tried once,” Tabatha deliberated.
    “And?”
    Tabatha looked embarrassed. “I use it to clean the windows.”
    “Nicholasssss.”
    Nicholas’s head jerked as a familiar whisper roved into the room.
    “Did you hear that?”
    “Hear what?”
    “I thought I heard a noise,” Nicholas said.
    “It’s just the storm.” Tabatha tutted and shook her head, her spaghetti hair bouncing. “Most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen in all my life – a whole week of rain and snow, right in the middle of August! Global warming my left bum cheek. I thought we’d be getting some tropical weather out of it, but it seems like the complete opposite.”
    Nicholas frowned, drawn to the lounge door. He left the window seat.
    “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said.
    At the foot of the stairs in the hall, Nicholas found the whispers were even louder.
    “Who’s there?” he called out. He started up the staircase, following the echoes. Presently, he was in front of his parents’ bedroom door again, just as before. He didn’t pause this time, pushing open the door.
    Silence. The whispers had stopped.
    Nicholas stepped inside and closed the door, turning the key in the lock. He moved immediately to the far wall, determination fuelling him. He didn’t question what was driving him, didn’t stop to wonder what force was pushing him to search the wall so purposefully.
    He looked at the framed picture on the wall, as if seeing it for the first time. Normally he’d have kicked himself for being so stupid, but not this time. There wasn’t time. Tomorrow he’d be leaving the house, and with it the mysteries