Deep laughter, sharp as lightning in a black sky, echoed above his head. The darkness imbedded in that sound froze his blood, but no one else seemed to hear. The mass of rioters pushed and yelled and flowed ever forward. Day turned to night and the hot wind became icy needles pricking his skin. A chasm opened up in front of his feet, and those around him pushed him in and down. Around him the void closed in.

“We’ve found you at last, Vasil Kutsera.”