“We don’t know if anything happened to them.” Jim stared at the blood; his face was ashen.

Outspoken at the best of times, Sally turned to her brother and favored him with a scalding stare. “Where did the blood come from?”

Unable to form a reply, he stepped around the puddle and walked a few yards from the house. It was so dark the men could be anywhere and remain hidden. Shadows of the woods, the yard lights unable to penetrate the depths, stood at the far end of the yard, and light touched off the cars to his left.

He remembered an argument, but not its content. He could almost hear gunshots in his ears, like a faded memory. Jim’s head spun with confusion.

Bobbi followed Jim into the yard, the damp grass cold to her bare feet. Trails seemed to run away from the house in the dew-stained grass. She could see several sets and understood what they were immediately.

People had gone from the house to the woods or back, then gathered at the foot of the porch. In two places, the grass pressed flat against the earth. She dropped to her knees, careless of the light-colored dress she wore and placed trembling hands against the vegetation. Maybe Ian had stood here, maybe she could connect with him, and maybe she could find him.

Marie moved to one side on the porch and watched her brother as he tried to understand this night. She panned the camera to Bobbi as the woman swept her hands across the grass.

They were all going insane. Marie wanted to cry out a warning; it was not safe to be outside the house like this. Aliens were out here.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Holding her tongue, she knew her brother and sisters would pounce on anything she said as a vent for their frustration and anger. She was the little sister, the idiot, or the fool, depending on whom you talked to. Tolerated like a piece of old furniture.

Facing the woods, Marie noticed the light from the gully had dimmed to near nonexistence.

Maybe the aliens were gone.

Fine threads like gossamer webs clung to Bobbi’s hand. Reluctantly, she held her hand up to see what she had found. It had weight. A small piece of white material clung to the strands and pulled clear of the grass as she lifted her hands.

She held the threads close until understanding dawned on Bobbi.

Her hand shook violently, the flesh hanging from the hair caught in her fingers bouncing obscenely to the rhythm.

Rising awkwardly to her feet, her face a mask of revulsion, Bobbi staggered towards the porch with her arms outstretched.

“Oh my God,” the shock and pain reclaimed Marie.

Sally backed away from her sister-in-law, leaving wet tracks across the porch, a hand to her mouth as if to stifle a scream.

Standing with her head cocked to one side, Carol looked at the actress and the offending hair. The men had come outside and immediately started firing their guns, and the light, she remembered, the light so bright it was painful.

“Your dress,” Carol pointed.

Looking down, Bobbi saw the front of her dress was a garish red where the blood covering the grass has stained the cloth.

She screamed, shaking her hand violently to rid herself of the hair as she ran away from the house, her shriek trailing after her as she disappeared toward the cars.

“No,” Carol jumped from the porch to follow the hysterical woman. Jim seemed to come out of his stupor, catching Carol.

“In the house. Everyone, get in the house.” Dragging Carol, he made his way up the steps of the porch and glared at Marie until she followed his direction.

The door to the house closed with finality upon the screams of Bobbi.

She ran into a car, spun, then ran past another.

Movement attracted Bobbi’s attention. She looked and her steps faltered.

An alien stood only a few paces away, regarding her with mute eyes. It was so small; she thought.

Its arm rose, pointing a tube at Bobbi.