Day two or three of the detour into Amish country for Rachelle Allen ad Gretchen Hargis, has them running for cover when the normally docile horses charge. Will our normally cunning and together heroines panic or rise to the occasion? Who the heck knows.

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The flowers in the field are beautiful. Rachelle points out the different varieties and tells me their names, but I don't know the difference between a daisy and a daffodil. They are just flowers, beautiful and fragrant and early this morning covered with all sorts of flying insects. I see butterflies, dragonflies, and happy little bumblebees lifting off from one bud to another. I might not know my flowers, but I can spot and name a bug from fifty yards away.

She glances back towards the house and her hand tentatively reaches out as if to pick one. "Do you think she'd mind if I picked a couple? I think Rebekah would enjoy seeing them in the house."

I shrug. "I can't imagine any of them getting upset. They're pretty laid back around here."

She plucks one bloom and is in the middle of reaching for another when we hear the frantic sound from the horses. I spin quick to see Ezra, trying to grip the reins and this behemoth of an animal rearing up, then the other horse starts up.

Rachelle lets the flower fall and almost pushes me. "Run! Run as quickly as you can. And, do not fall this time. If you do, it will be the last time you do."

There is one thing about me you should know, and that is, if someone tells me to run, I run. I'm not curious enough to question why. I have one goal and that is to outrun everyone else. I am a survivor. So, I go into auto pilot and start running. Next thing I know, I'm Usain Bolt and I'm going for the gold. I pass Rachelle and keep going. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins and it feels good.

I heard her words about horses running straight and something about other wild animals, but I didn't wait for that to process in my brain. When she finally catches up, she breathlessly smiles at me.

"Between those horses and that guy coming out of the barn yesterday with a scythe, you've become quite the impressive runner, Gretchen Hargis. And, I was proud of you for remaining vertical this time, though."

I struggle to catch my breath but cut my eyes at her. "You're a riot, Allen." If a Southern girl knows one thing, when running from something that can hurt you, it doesn't matter how fast you run, just matters that you are faster then the guy or girl beside you.

Rachelle brushes her mass of red curls back and finally straightens up. "I bet those horses made it to the convention already," she says.

I laugh as I think about my Amish ambulance horse remark earlier. We start to joke about several members of FanStory and the personalities we've come to know through writing. I can almost not feel my heartbeat throbbing in my temples when a piercing scream cuts through the air.

"Who's that?"

I feel my heart sink. I know a little girl's scream when I hear it. There is no doubt in my mind that it is Hannah. Both Rachelle and I head off in the direction of the barn.

It doesn't look good when we get there. Ezra is lying there, eyes rolling back, moaning and slightly rocking side to side. A blur whisks by me as Helene rushes from the house to the spot where her husband is.

I see one of the boys holding a hoe and the rusty tinge of blood is shining in the bright sunlight.

Timber Rattlesnake was all I heard and with my one remaining sprint, I run for the house. If I have enough battery power left on my phone, I can take a picture of it. I hate frogs, toads and lizards, but I do like to see a snake. I can't wait to send this to my husband. This is the kind of stuff we live for. Pictures of snakes and dogs. Odd combination but works for us.

I take the stairs two at a time and know that I will be pay for this tomorrow, if not sooner.

They are heading to the house as I'm going past them. Ezra supported on either side by Solomon and Simeon. Rebekah cradling Hannah in her arms, as Helene walks behind her husband. The look she has on her face is one I know well. Its a flash of reality. Time is fleeting and things can change. I'm sure she had a moment of uncertainty when she saw her beloved husband lying on the ground next to the venomous snake. "Back in a flash," I say, racing to where the outline of the dead snake is.

I stay back far enough away from it and start clicking the pictures. I've heard so much about snakes and how even after they're dead they can still bite. I don't know what the truth is and what is Internet garbage, but I'm also unwilling to test fate. I check the images and go to my contacts, click on my husband's name and my heart surges.

The message I sent earlier this morning says delivered. I have managed to reach the twenty-first century from Amish country.

I turn back to the house and suddenly, my appetite is in overdrive.

"Bring on the day," I shout happily.