He was awake. He wondered how long he’d been asleep. Looking around he saw nothing familiar.
There was a hum throbbing in his ears. A clicking drifted through the bushes in front of him.
He breathed in deeply but recoiled as the air was thick with a pungent odour.
His head ached, and his arms were bloodied.
He was fearful, and he had every right to be so.
The clicking stopped momentarily then started again.
What was this place? How did he get here?
He moved his leg into a more comfortable position as the clicking become more agitated.
He stopped moving, his eyes darting this way and that in the near darkness to discern anything that might give a clue as to where he was.
He needed to move, but when he did, the click quickened and emitted a louder menacing click.
He waited till be felt confident of moving again. He knew he needed to edge away from the clicking, whatever it was.
He began to edge away a centimetre at a time.
In an hour, he had moved thirty centimetres.
He could feel his exhaustion.
His body ached. He resolved not to give in.
The clicking was becoming louder.
Sensing its agitation, he slunk into inaction.
His hand found a branch, a weapon?
What was he dealing with?
He thought of yesterday. The sun on his back, mates around his BBQ.
The beers, the camaraderie.
Did they put something in my drink he asked himself?
He pinched himself and realised he was conscious.
The darkness spread itself around he, and he felt an overwhelming fatigue.
He needed to rest, to gain strength for a new day.
He lay still, his mind full of questions, the fear of the unknown gripped him. He needed to sleep, shut off the hum in his mind, ignore the pungent odour in his nose.
Slumber overtook him as in the background the clicking continued.