Two aliens trooped towards the house, each carrying machines that served no discernible purpose. They seemed less confident, perhaps affected by the diminishing number of their compatriots.

The sled appeared again at the edge of the woods and made its way to the cars.

The huge globe burst to light again with a suspicious dark stain to its side where a shotgun slug had pierced the surface.

Casey saw all of this but could do nothing to take advantage of the situation.

He made minimal movements and raise his head a few inches from the forest floor, but the pain that coursed through his body was a clear sign the wave had hurt him. Whatever the wave was, it had felt like a solid brick wall driving him to the ground.

The aliens approached the house and split to attend to their tasks.

One directed a spray that threw up a cloud of hissing steam from the blood that covered the ground while quartering the area in front of the house in a manner that seemed almost robotic.

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The second alien worked the porch in the same manner with a smaller version of the device used by its partner.

In the direction of the cars came a loud hum, then the sled reappeared with the body of the alien Casey had shot. It moved to the fallen gun platform and lowered to the ground. Again, the machine hummed and the pieces of alien technology seemed to float from the ground and deposit themselves on the sled.

“Go back to the repair shop.” Casey smiled despite the pain.

The sled rose from the ground and headed for the house.

Their task done, the two aliens waited patiently for the sled to arrive, then placed their burdens on the sled and climbed to the porch deck and the door of the house.

They entered the house.

What the hell were they doing in the house again? The question irritated Casey. There was reason behind the actions of the aliens, unfortunately he could not understand what he was observing. He remembered feeling the same way when he was in high school and the chemistry teacher performed an experiment; while he knew what he was watching, he could not understand what was happening or why it was occurring.

The pain was lessening. He hoped it was a good sign because he was going to have to move from the shelter soon. It stood to reason that there was at least one suppresser lying in the woods somewhere and he was going to have to find it if he was to combat the aliens successfully. The idea of moving was repellent, but firing off one shot and then having the aliens descend on his position was even less appealing.

Besides, there was no way he was going to stay here and get hit by another of those waves.