By Stephen C. Schultz His breathing was heavy and fast. Mucus sprayed from his nostrils and his cheeks fought the g-forces as if he were a fighter pilot leaving the deck of an aircraft carrier in an F-16. His neck muscles strained and his face grimaced as the fight or flight response kicked in. Five; six; seven now eight steps into his evasive action that was steeped in athletic prowess and natural instinct, he thought he was in the clear. Once again, he had cheated death and the angels of mercy had looked down upon him. It didn’t register right away. With each step, the distance grew larger between him and his immediate threat. It shouldn’t have happened this way. There was so much to live for. He was in the prime of his life with family and friends who loved and cared about him. He didn’t want it to end this way. The pain was quick and sharp. It penetrated right in the square of his back between his shoulder blades. His chest was thrust forward and his a...
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