Hoover wasn’t sure where he would get out of the creek, but he wasn’t messing with Aunt Sugar again.

It didn’t occur to him that running in water with all the lightning strikes in the area was dangerous. But danger came to light when a shaft of lightning struck a tree on the bank just ahead of him. Even in the rain, the lightning lit a fire from the strike that blew up the tree, splintering it in all directions.

Hoover staggered back in shock, and then screamed as a hot, searing pain pierced his thigh. He fell backwards into the shallow water, momentarily blinded by the heavy rainfall in his face.

“What the hell just happened?” he moaned as he crawled out of the water and up onto the creek bank, then rolled over onto his back and sat up.

The pain was sharpest above his right knee, but without light, he was left to guessing exactly what had happened. When he felt a sizable shaft of wood sticking out of his leg, he groaned. A piece of that tree was in his leg!

He couldn’t tell how badly it was bleeding because of the rain, but he was scared. He had no idea where he was, and the thunderstorm was making too much noise to call out for help. He had outrun the only people who might have saved him, and now if he didn’t get help, he could be in danger of bleeding to death.

Without hesitation, Hoover began ripping up the leg of his pants until he had a strip long enough to make a tourniquet. Afraid to try to pull the wood out of his leg, he felt around on the bank until he found a piece of deadfall. He broke a piece off from that limb and used it to make a splint.

After a good deal of groaning and cursing, Hoover managed to stand up. It occurred to him that he didn’t need the creek anymore to hide his tracks. But he did need it so he wouldn’t get lost. He knew where the creek went, but the woods were so thick and the night was so dark that he would easily get directions confused.

Reluctantly, he got back in the ankle-high water and, holding onto the tourniquet to keep it tight, he started walking. The rain was a deluge. The only light came from brief lightning flashes that illuminated his surroundings.

He’d lost all sense of time, but it felt as if he’d been walking for hours, and he knew as well as he knew his own name that he was about to lose consciousness. Afraid he’d drown if he passed out facedown, he crawled back onto the bank and sat down.

He thought about praying, but he and God hadn’t been on good terms for a very long time. When he checked his leg again and realized he could no longer feel his toes, he reluctantly faced his destiny.

“I’m dying,” he said, and passed out.