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“
Silence
!
”
Pain
throbbed
up
his
arm
.
Sweat
stood
out
on
his
forehead
.
Every
fiber
cried
out
to
withdraw
the
hand
from
that
burning
pit
.
.
.
but
.
.
.
the
gom
jabbar
.
Without
turning
his
head
,
he
tried
to
move
his
eyes
to
see
that
terrible
needle
poised
beside
his
neck
.
He
sensed
that
he
was
breathing
in
gasps
,
tried
to
slow
his
breaths
and
couldn
’
t
.
Pain
!
His
world
emptied
of
everything
except
that
hand
immersed
in
agony
,
the
ancient
face
inches
away
staring
at
him
.
His
lips
were
so
dry
he
had
difficulty
separating
them
.
The
burning
!
The
burning
!
He
thought
he
could
feel
skin
curling
black
on
that
agonized
hand
,
the
flesh
crisping
and
dropping
away
until
only
charred
bones
remained
.
It
stopped
!
As
though
a
switch
had
been
turned
off
,
the
pain
stopped
.
