He sets me on the gravel and steps over me. I can barely move, so I keep still. I don’t want him knowing that I’m conscious. I can see the car a hundred yards away. It looks like we’re at the end of a long road. Part of me thinks only a minute or so has passed since he sprayed me. I can’t imagine him carrying me up the side of the mountain.

A pneumatic hinge makes a gasping sound. The man picks me up again, slides me into a seat and fastens a seat belt around me. It takes him a moment to position me since my arms are still bound behind me. I lie slack and maintain the deception. Fighting him is impossible and pointless.

He shuts the door. I can see trees through the window. It feels like we’re in a small car. One of those European ones you see winding through back alleys in Italy. I don’t understand why he changed cars or put me in the front seat.

I hear him climb in the other side and shut his door. His fingers place something on the dashboard and strap it in place. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the video camera’s red light.

Recording what?

He flips several switches and the dashboard begins to glow. I hear the sound of an engine starting up and feel the front of the car shake a little. Only it’s not a car.

We’re in an airplane.

He revs the engine and we lurch forward. Trees move past the window as we turn toward the start of the runway. I tilt my body to the side and bring myself slightly forward, still pretending to be unconscious.

The Warlock’s helper addresses the video camera. “I wish you were here right now. It doesn’t feel right. But I know that I can’t understand all the parts of your mystery. I’m just thankful you’ve given me this honor.”

The plane starts to taxi down the runway.

He’s going to take me into the air.

He’s going to fly me over the volcano.

He’s going to push me out in some sick ritual.

I still can’t move enough to do anything. I try to push my hands under my body as the airplane bounces down the runway. The seat belt keeps me pinned.

The tip of the plane lifts off and we’re airborne. He turns the stick to the right and we do a wide arc to avoid the treetops at the edge of the runway. We go in a circle and I’m able to look at the narrow strip of concrete below us.

It’s an old forestry runway. The trees have grown to the edges. Probably long abandoned, the only access is from the air and an abandoned logging road. It’s the kind of place you’d only know about if you flew over it. The strip looks so small. I can only imagine a seasoned pilot being able to pull off a landing there.