It was dark. For a few seconds, Father Adam puzzled over why it should be dark, then he realized his eyes were closed. It took another heartbeat to remember how to open them, and with the return of that memory came others: how to sit up, how to check his head to confirm that the throbbing pain was not accompanied by blood, how to recognize where he was.
On the ground. Outside the house. The last thing he remembered was
white and green fire--
"Ray?" he called out, his throat dry. In the distance he could hear sirens.