The Silent Room, Part 15

WNP: He could feel the energy coursing through his veins.

Number 11

The trip back to the farm house took much less time than the trip away from it.  So much less time, in fact, that the sun hadn't even begun to change the sky into more varied colors and tones. Perhaps the day had lost just a bit of its heat.  With the sweat still dripping from his shirt and brow, he wasn't entirely sure.  The house, however, was not quite as he had left it. 

There was an energy about it now that had not been there before.  A pulsing wave had begun to cours through his veins with the heavy thrum of the silent room before he even stepped across the sharp edged border that marked the separation of the dusty fields and the broad lush circle of grassy yard surrounding the house.

He paused for a second, his gritty, dust-caked foot suspended in limbo above the waving welcome of the grass. What, he wondered, was the silent room? And how did he know it thrummed?