It floods through my body and all I can focus on is my head. Why? What happened? I remember running and then feeling intense pain but from what, I don’t know. I hear myself groan in pain and the rustling and clicks stop. I have to force my eyes open and everything is blurry. After blinking several times my vision slightly clears and I see trees high above me and bits of sky showing through. That’s when I notice I’m on the ground and feel the coolness of the dirt and leaves. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion and simple thoughts are difficult to complete. I hear a single click again but I still can’t figure out what it is. Then I hear a man’s voice tell me not to move. Someone must be here to help. Thank goodness! I fight to turn my head towards his voice but I don’t understand what I see. There’s a man standing over me holding something and the look on his face is strange. It’s not concern but I can’t put a name to it. I recognize his face but I can’t place him. I hear. After looking up at the clock, he poured himself an extra-large coffee as well. He carried it to the table and took his seat. He looked up at the clock and made the sign of a cross. He took a sip of coffee, grimaced, and then set the cup down. His stomach was sour enough already.The Woodman asked, "Does anyone have an antacid?"The Smith said, "I could use one, too."No one offered an antacid.The Weaver looked up at the clock waiting for the minute hand to reach the top. It seemed to her that the closer it got, the slower it moved. Her stomach churned at the idea of what was going to happen next. She looked around the room at the other heads of the ten families. They looked just as nervous as she felt."It's time," she said softly.The Drover asked, "Are you sure that we want to do this?"Heads around the room nodded in the affirmative. The Drover picked up the telephone. He reached down to punch in the number, and then stopped."Last chance to stop it."The Weaver said, "Make the call."He.
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