Harvest Festival

Callum climbed down off the tractor and the engine rumbled out to nothing.
The peace of the hills replaced low vibration. It was better. He closed his
eyes, savoured it. A reward for a day in the mechanical saddle. The silence
was complete. He took two deep breaths, was partway into a third huge
lungful of cooling air when his breath hitched, and he realised what was
amiss. He tilted his head, as if it helped to hear. Silence – but strangely so.
Normally there’d be the calls of birds bedding down for the night. Proper
silence wasn’t usual, unless the birds were spooked by a predator. Still,
nothing seemed amiss, and peace is peace.
But then there were shouts from the house, angry raised voices, and a
bang. Door slam, probably. He narrowed his eyes in that direction. They
were starting early....