Griffin lowered the passenger window and inhaled the fresh, crisp air. He still loved the woods, even after his father had nearly ruined the outdoors for him. He’d taken him fishing and camping for the weekend, when he was ten, but what had been planned as a bonding trip had turned into a weekend blackout binge for his father, who’d never left the tent, let alone taught him to fish. But Griffin had left the tent and the campsite, and he’d wandered the surrounding hills, exploring the trails and developing an instant obsession with nature. He didn’t realize it at the time, but it was because it had provided an escape for him from his father, from the self-destructive cycle of alcoholism. But that time was long ago, and you’re not that little boy. Most importantly, your father is long gone, decomposing in the ground. The thought comforted him, and the wind blew harder, as if responding to his momentary contentment.

The Explorer had reached the halfway point to the main road, and Griffin glanced in the passenger mirror, spotting headlights near the hub. “Pick it up. I think Zachary has decided to pursue us, in which case, we’ll find someplace to ambush and kill him.”

“Are you sure?” Barrett asked.

“Trust me, for him we can make the time. Just knowing that Zachary Chambers has left planet Earth forever will almost make this debacle worth it.”

A deep rumbling slowly vibrated through the floor of the SUV, and Griffin looked at Barrett. The vibration intensified, and both men looked at each other as they recognized the sound.

“I just hope it’s not a police helicopter with FLIR,” Barrett said, referring to the police department’s forward-looking infrared capability. “If it is, we’re more screwed than a blue-eyed blonde on Saint Patrick’s Day in Southie.”

“There’s no way it’s the police. The county aviation division is twenty miles from here, and even if they just disabled the jammers, help is still several minutes away. No. This is something else,” Griffin said, and leaned his head out the window. The wind ripped through the trees, and he saw nothing but black woods all around and a canopy of dark sky above. “I don’t like this—at all.”

The sound intensified, but the SUV rolled on, at least until the entire front of the vehicle was suddenly awash in a bright, garish white light that blinded both men. Barrett slammed on the brakes, and Griffin raised his hands instinctively, sending a jolt of pain through his wounded shoulder.

A bright flash erupted from the hovering, black helicopter less than fifty feet above the ground, and a second later a flaming streak shot downward at them as the shoulder-launched RPG warhead was unleashed.