Trees hung over him, lit garishly by flames from two different directions.

It hurt to breathe, the effort to draw each breath a triumph in a minor war of survival.

Once, a long time ago, he had seen the boughs of pine trees reflecting light in the same manner but with less intensity. It had been campfires, not a billowing tower of flame matched by another pyre from dead military hardware.

Dragging his arm to his chest, John felt a body atop his, the source of the weight that made breathing difficult.

Marie!

He struggled to sit up and check on the girl. Most of the blast had hit her as she hugged him. If she were dead, it would be the worst of the ironies this night.

She moaned as John shifted her body so he could look at her face.

“Hey kid.” The chance the soldiers were alive after the blast was remote, but that was placing too much trust in the idea they died in the explosion. For all John knew, the soldiers were still in their helicopters. It was safer to whisper.

One woman lying a few feet away stirred, her body weaving as she moved, as if nearly overcome by the effort to drag her body to a kneeling position.

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John paid her scant attention, his eyes on the still form of Marie as she lay in his arms.

Even with the light of the flames, it was still too dark to see.

“Come on, honey. Wake up.”

Sally held her arms up, beckoning to John. Blood ran from her forehead to her chin in a thick rivulet.

He saw the movement but ignored the woman in favor of Marie. With an edge of desperation, he let go of Marie with his right hand and searched her body for wounds by feel.

Stark light that moved towards the trees illuminated billowing clouds of smoke as it passed over the house; a pure cone of white light that descended from above.

Sally seemed to cry, but he could not hear a sound the woman made. Vaguely, John understood he could hear no sounds, that he was deaf.

The light forced its way into the trees, brushing aside the cover of the pine branches and drawing the color from the ground. It was like the morning had arrived in a matter of seconds, as if the sun had risen in the blink of an eye.

Marie’s eyes fluttered as she drew a breath.

John almost cried out in joy, then hands were pulling the girl from his arms and separating him from Marie as they helped John to his feet.

People were in the trees, glancing fearfully upward as they helped the wounded.

Someone kneeled by Barb and checked her still form. In his confusion, John wondered why the woman did not get up from the ground.

The hands holding John forcibly turned him and he saw Lia holding his shoulders while her mouth worked. He stared at her in ignorance. She seemed to lose patience and pushed John towards the gully.

Casey pulled his hand away from the body obscenely red in the bright light. A piece of the house had buried itself in Barb’s back.

His gaze traveled from his hand to the UFO above the trees. How could any of them survive against the aliens? Maybe Barb was the lucky one. Casey dismissed the thought, made an obscene gesture at the UFO, and worked to get the actors back in the gully.

At least Turner had kept his promise.