Sanctuary: A Remaining Universe Novel by D.J. Molles

Author:D.J. Molles [Molles, D.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: D.J. Molles Books
Published: 2024-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

Bran awoke with a soft snort.

Golden candlelight. Shay rolled onto her side, her back to him and her blanket pulled up over her shoulders. The night air coming in through the open window above her bed was surprisingly cool for late summer. It smelled faintly of rain, like there’d been a light shower recently.

Bran frowned, having that vague feeling that something had woken him up, but not really able to say what it was. God, he must’ve been more tired than he thought, falling asleep in the chair like that. A glance at the pool of melted tallow in the candle told him he must’ve been out for at least a couple hours.

Shit. He’d need to be on watch pretty soon, then.

The only official time-keeping device in the monastery was a mantel clock that Shay kept on her dresser. Bran twisted to peer at it by the dim glow of the candle. After a moment of blinking the fogginess out of his eyes, he registered where the hands were pointing.

Ten minutes to midnight.

So, he had another hour before he needed to relieve Shad on watch. He toyed with whether or not he’d even get himself back to sleep. If he got up and went to his room, by the time he got there he knew he’d be too awake to fall back asleep. Maybe he should just doze off in the chair by Shay’s bedside for the next hour.

A faint sound. The patter of a soft rain on the monastery’s tin roof.

Sucks for Shad, Bran thought, and then got a little disgruntled at the thought that it might still be raining in an hour when his turn came.

But then the rain stopped. Quite abruptly. And something about it…

It started up a breath later, harder and faster than before. A weird rhythm to it. Almost like…

Bran stood up, staring at the open window through which the soft sound was coming.

That wasn’t rain, he realized, as his heart and stomach parted company, one rising, the other falling.

That was the sound of distant gunfire.

The rhythm of it was unmistakable to Bran. He was, unfortunately, intimately familiar with what a gunfight sounded like. The hectic chatter, vaguely punctuated by something a bit heavier going off at a slower pace.

He slid into the narrow gap between Shay’s bedside and her nightstand, his face peering into the darkness outside of the window. Hard to tell without light, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t raining currently, though the sill was wet.

The distant, gunpowder argument seemed to reach a crescendo and then abruptly died.

He glanced at Shay again, but she hadn’t stirred.

Two more muted pops.

And then nothing.

He stood by the window for the better part of a minute, waiting for the gunfire to resume, but whatever was happening out there seemed to have been permanently decided. But where was it coming from? He couldn’t determine the direction just from hearing it through the window.

Shad would’ve heard it though, and since he was presumably outside, he might have a better sense of the direction.

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