It was like nothing he had ever seen. The pilot wrenched away from watching the UFO to the destruction taking place only scant yards away from the Blackhawk.

Billowing flames lifted the front of the helicopter as he fought to maintain flight. He could feel the aircraft sliding back, away from the explosion. He could see the tail rotor touching the ground in his mind.

Stunned, the copilot could only see the men die as they crouched on the front porch, shredded by the debris of the rapidly expanding flames.

As if it did not exist, the UFO flashed through the enormous ball of flame.

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The controls of the Blackhawk blinked out, and the pilot knew he had lost the fight. The tail boom of the Blackhawk rammed into a car among the burning vehicles parked in the driveway.

With a rending of metal and shattered wail of rotor blades, the Blackhawk crumpled into the car and started several more fires and explosions that added to the pyres around the house.

The last helicopter hovered over a dirt road as its rotor blast shook the pine trees to either side in a gale.

An enormous ball of flames rose from the direction of the house.

“Jesus,” the pilot watched the flames tower into the night.

In front of the helicopter, a body lay in the ditch next to the road. Had he looked, the pilot would have seen the body wore the uniform of a sheriff.