Black Feathers by Joseph D'Lacey

massive-sounding wad of mucus leaving Mr Keeper’s mouth at high velocity and landing somewhere impressively distant.
    After a few more coughs and grumbles a croaky voice says:
    “You’d better come in, little thing.”
     
     

10
     
    Oct 5th ’13
    My eyes only
     
    The weather’s been getting strange again. We’ve had thunder storms and heavy rain all over the country. Even though it’s October, the rain is warm, like a monsoon or something. Before the storms hit the air gets hot and heavy. It feels wrong.
    Jude and I watched one yesterday. It had been sunny all day but then that steamy feeling made it hard to breathe. We huddled in the bay window at the end of the upstairs hallway and watched the sky go black. It was like nightfall. Jude and I held hands really tightly. The wind got up, whipping leaves into spiral flurries. Downstairs I could hear Dad locking windows and pulling the shutters closed. Angela was in her room, no doubt with her iPod wired into her brain, and the only light upstairs came from under her door. Mum was in the kitchen singing the chorus of some old song over and over to take her mind off things. She looks scared all the time now but I worry the storms will send her mad.
    Down in the garden the wind picked up more leaves and spun them into a vortex that danced on the grass near the horse chestnut.
    Dad shouted up the stairs.
    “ You two be careful by that window. ”
    The upstairs hallway window is still unprotected. Last year, Dad fitted roll-down aluminium shutters to every other window in the house but he hasn’t got around to doing the one where we sat, even though Mum nags him about it all the time.
    “ And tell Angela to drop her shutters if she hasn’t already. ”
    Angela wouldn’t have known a storm was coming unless someone hacked into her iPod and gave her an emergency bulletin. I left Jude on the window seat, knocked on Angela’s door and walked in. She was multitasking – reading a magazine, texting her boyfriend and listening to music all at the same time.
    “ Fuck right off, Gordon. What are you even doing in here? ”
    I shouted “ storm ” and pointed to her window. She rolled her eyes and continued to text. I thought about telling her to unplug her computer but didn’t bother. Let it fry, I thought.
    After the brightness of her bedroom, it seemed like midnight in the hallway. I could just see Jude’s black silhouette in the darkened window. As I walked towards her the sky outside turned white. I thought I’d gone blind at first but then an afterimage of her open-mouthed shock floated in front of my eyes. I started counting as I used the wall to guide me to where she sat. When I reached ten there was the loudest noise I’ve ever heard, a single boom like an explosion in the nearby hills. Ten miles, I thought. What’s it going to be like when it’s right overhead? I reached the window and Jude hugged me. Rain was falling slow and steady outside. No light came from Angela’s room. Even from so many miles away the storm had knocked out the power. Next thing I knew she was in the hallway.
    “ Dad? Dad! Can you reset the trip switch? My lights have gone out. ”
    You could hear the disbelief in his voice as he shouted back up to her.
    “ There’s a bloody great storm out there. Paint your nails in the dark. ”
    She went back into her room, slamming the door. After the thunder, the bang of the door sounded pathetic.
    The wind hurled rain against the windows, smearing it across the panes. The lightning was so bright we couldn’t see where it struck and the thunder got so loud you could feel it in your chest and skull. With every flash, I saw the ground turned to water as the storm dumped inches of rain in a matter of minutes. Between the thunderclaps, I heard Mum crying and Dad trying to calm her down.
    We’re lucky to live on a hill. The rain’s washing away houses and taking people with it. Every night we see it on the TV. It sweeps crops off the fields and