Sam’s scalp prickled. He didn’t know much about the natural world, but earlier there had been so many sounds. The wind in the leaves. The buzzing and clicking that he was sure were insect noises. The soft scratchings in the undergrowth. That had all stopped now, yet he could see the leaves of the trees still moving against the clouds. They should be rustling and bringing the moist smell of the forest with them. But there was nothing.