He shouts to me, “You’re not going to make it!”

“I already did! You failed him! You failed him big! And now you’re going to bleed to death out here,” I shout.

He falls to his knees and keeps the gun aimed at me. “At least I can take you out first.”

The gun is pointed at my chest. His hand wavers slightly, but he uses his other to steady his grip. He’s got a clean shot.

There’s a loud crack that echoes through the trees. His shoulder jerks back. Blood sprays from his arm and the gun drops to the ground. He falls on his face and screams.

I run over to the gun and pick it up with my bound hands before he can get back up. I point it at his head. He rolls over and looks at me. There’s a bullet hole in his shoulder.

“Goddamn bitch!” He tries to move but he can’t get to his knees.

I look around the trees to see where the bullet came from. There’s no one around. It sounded like a rifle shot.

In the distance I hear rotors. A moment later a spotlight pokes over the trees in front of me and a helicopter flies over the side of the mountain as dawn begins to break in the distance. The chopper hovers overhead sending a wash of air around us. Dust and dirt are kicked into a cloud. I keep the gun trained on the pilot.

My body wants to collapse, but I remain rock steady. I don’t even know if I have the energy to pull the trigger. I just stand there and keep it pointed on his head.

He writhes on the ground and tries to shield his eyes from the spotlight with his good hand. Under his breath he mutters curses. Some of them sound like they’re in another language.

The helicopter banks to the side and I see an FBI agent in tactical assault gear leaning out the side with an assault rifle. He leaps off and lands in the grass. He’s followed by another agent. They run over to me, keeping their guns trained on the pilot.

One of them shouts to me over the sound of the helicopter engine. “Agent Blackwood, is there anybody else in the area?”

I look at the pilot’s shoulder wound and back at the forest. “Nobody hostile.”

“Are you okay? Do you need medical help?”

I don’t know. I’m more worried about losing our one witness. “I’m not urgent. This man may be bleeding out. We need him alive.”

The helicopter lands on the road and two more in tactical gear climb out. They zip cuff the man on the ground and apply first aid to his wound. They tell me a medical chopper is ten minutes away.

I’m about to fall down, but I insist they take the pilot first. He might be our only connection to the Warlock.

The chopper takes him, and I fly to the hospital in a second helicopter. The last thing I remember before passing out is sitting between two other FBI agents as the helicopter climbs into the sky.