I watched while the carrying the others like me disappeared into the distance, feeling despair creep up on me. Meanwhile, the helicopter pursuing me hadn't fallen behind at all. Brilliant.
I was going to have to fight. I glanced back at the chopper and lined up with it before releasing a fiery blast straight backwards. A ring of fire surrounded the aircraft before vanishing soon after. Still, it distracted them long enough for me to gain some distance.
I was almost clear, already considering how I would track down the others when I felt something bite through my right wing, tearing the flesh and snapping some of the smaller bones. I screamed almost before the pain fully registered. My vision blurred and though I tried, I couldn't steady myself. I began descending to the ground, quickly losing altitude and judging by the sting, blood as well. I crashed into a tree and then bounced through the trees before landing in a heap on the ground, moaning and clutching my injured wing. I passed out while laying there.
When I came to, the first thing I realized by glancing through a small gap in the tree cover was that it was late in the evening, around dusk. The second thing I realized was that I was alone. I assumed because I could still feel the hole in my wing that I wasn't dead, either.
I lay there for a while, unable to summon the strength to sit up. When I finally could get up off the ground, though, I reached into my left side pants pocket and retrieved some weak anesthetic and gauze bandages - my mother, a nurse, had insisted I take some basic medical supplies.
After patching myself up and dulling the pain a bit with the anesthetic and a Coke, I stood. I began making my way out of the woods, heading for town. Emerging on a street that didn't look too busy, I spotted a cafe on the other side - somewhere I could rest my feet for a while, at least.