Missiles.

There had to be a helicopter still alive.

Turner watched the UFO rupture from the attack and collapse onto the stand of trees it had loomed over.

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Shock waves from the detonations buffeted Turner, but, as with the flames, he no longer cared. He waited for the last trap to clap shut.

A small piece of memory returned. He was telling the actors in the house... what? They were actors. The mother had been right. How long would it be until he became that man once more with all the hate and anger it took to cause this event?

The worry tugged at Turner’s mind.