Dying from a bolt of electricity may not be nearly as
frightening as surviving one. Spend a summer in Colorado, and
you’ll feel it. It begins with a subtle shift of the wind and a
gradual darkening of the clouds. Linger outside, and peals of
distant thunder grow to a sky-splitting volume. The air crackles
with electricity, buzzing between shoelaces and lifting arm hair
into a static-y stiffness. It’s only a matter of time before the
electric charges overwhelm the clouds and flash to Earth in
terrifying, 50,000-degree bolts. And every year, those bolts
find people—hikers, boaters, picnickers, softball players,
people walking their dogs—along the way. Most Coloradans dread a
direct zap, but instant death by lightning bolt is hardly the
most likely outcome to fear. Lightning kills only one out of 10
strike victims outright, usually from cardiac arrest, leaving
the other 90 percent alive but at risk for a lifetime of
mysterious, debilitating symptoms, for which there is no
specific treatment. “Lightning can cause