Page 50 of Let Her Live

The killer's knife gleamed in the moonlight.

"You will be sacrificed," he uttered, trying to bring the knife down on Chris.

Chris held the knife with both hands, his arms flexing. Fiona could see he was using every bit of his strength to keep the knife off him, but its sharp tip was getting closer.

Fiona wasn't armed, but she had to do something.

She searched around for something, anything, she could use. Her eyes landed on a large branch.

Fiona lunged forward, grabbing the branch and swinging it with all her might. It made contact with the side of the killer's head, sending him stumbling backward.

Fiona dropped the wooden stick to the ground and rushed over to Chris' side, checking his wound. "We have to go," she said urgently as she helped him up to his feet.

But the killer wasn't done.

He raised, radiating violent energy.

"How dare you," he uttered. "How dare you interrupt the gods' sacrifice?"

Gods? What was this man on? He appeared to be completely separated from reality.

The killer pointed the knife at Fiona and Chris. He looked deranged, eyes wide open, teeth bared. "You will suffer for this," he said. "The gods demand their sacrifice!"

"What gods?" Fiona asked, hoping to talk him down. "Who are you? What are you talking about?"

"Who am I?" He cackled, but then his eyes seemed to grow distant. His brows pinched like he was trying to remember. "Who am I...?"

Did he not remember? The man seemed to be in a complete state of psychosis.

Psychosis…The realization hit Fiona over the back of the head. It could explain Frank Barber's behavior, too—the Everglade Moore Fly! The insect that could, in rare cases, cause a toxic reaction in the blood that could lead to psychosis. More of them had been popping up in the area, and maybe this was the effect. Barber could have been infected too.

"It's okay," Fiona said, trying to talk him down, "we can work on this, together. I can help, I'm an entomologist. Maybe you were bit by a strange bug?"

More confusion clouded his face. "A... bug?"

"Yes!" Fiona said. She was getting somewhere. "It's okay, just—drop your knife, please. We can talk about this. You can still come back from it!"

But it was no use. "The gods demand their sacrifice!" he repeated.

Fiona looked at Chris, hoping for help, but he appeared just as confused as she did. This wasn't normal.

She had two options. She could run, or she could stay and try to talk him down. Either way, she couldn't let the man keep the knife.

As Fiona tried to talk him down, the killer continued to shake, twitching violently. "You will die," he said, voice wavering and almost crying. "The gods demand their sacrifice."

"No," Fiona said, "you're not yourself! You have a name, a life... you have to remember!"

"A name?" the man said, momentarily calming again.

"Are you crazy, lady?" Chris said. "This guy is nuts!"

"Shh!" Fiona shushed him, but it was too late.

The killer had snapped out of it, and his vengeful rage was evident on his face again.

"Who are you to stand in their way?" he said. "Perhaps you want to take his place!"

He screamed and charged them with the knife.

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