Four separate places where the foliage and trees showed battle yielded no sign of weapons. Casey was getting frustrated, a dangerous state of emotion. Frustration would lead to impatience and error, and he could not afford to make a mistake.

Lying at the top of the gully, he looked over the lip and saw signs of a battle. The light from the spacecraft was bright in the gully. He could see the different shades of the grass and dirt, and he could see where dead men were drug from view. Around a corner of the gully.

Caruthers and Epstein were the last; they were the most experienced, so they would not have rushed into the trap. They would have surveyed the situation and tried to pass the information on before committing to any action. Caruthers had gone up the gully from the south, corresponding with the set of drag mark further along the gully. Epstein must have made a stand here where Casey lay, then ended at the base of the gully where it looked like miniature artillery had ground the dirt mercilessly.

Perhaps the decision arose subconsciously, or the wisdom of the plan not considered, but Casey rolled from the lip of the gully and slid to the bottom of the steep dirt wall. There was no time to waste; he had to check the areas where the men died for a silencer. If he saw an alien, he would have to kill it, then run and hide.

The gully floor was hard dirt with stones lying atop, painful to lie on as he searched the area for danger. Rising to a crouch, his and stomach leg still protesting rapidly moving, Casey hobbled to the churned dirt and made a quick survey. He found a suspiciously dark spot of damp ground but no weaponry.

Moving to the far side of the gully, he edged towards the corner of the bank. The aliens had to be taking everything, from bodies and equipment to their own hardware. It made sense when he guessed they did not want to leave any trace of a visitation, to obscure the reality of alien abductions.

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Twenty feet away, he could see where the gully washed out of the confines of dirt and clay. Faint drag marks came from the darkness of the gully mouth.

Casey had gone as far as he could without popping up into sight. He sighed and rested, catching his breath, and easing the pain while his eyes probed the visible areas of the gully.

Still, there was no sign of the aliens. Something strange was happening. He had expected the gully to be teaming with aliens intent on repairing the damage done to their equipment or readying the next assault.

Raising slowly, he looked over the low ridge and surveyed the wide portion of the gully. The fake saucer was in front of the real spacecraft. The intense light from the alien ship still lit the gully as bright as day. Nothing moved in the light or the shadows of the fake UFO.

Casey’s heart beat a little faster. Could it be? Had he done more damage than he guessed?

He crawled across the dirt to the dark of the gully mouth and quickly checked the area again for any movement. His luck with weaponry was running the same; the aliens had picked the area clean.

Moving to the corner of the gully, he leaned against the dirt wall and peered around the corner. It was too good to be true; the aliens were still missing. His thoughts crept to the idea that the aliens were dead inside their ship, victims of an inferior technology.

A soldier had to be bold when he had to take any action a sane man would avoid. Casey stepped away from the corner and moved to the center of the gully. Slowly he walked towards the alien ship, expecting to be shot at any moment.

As he passed the fake ship, he saw a splash of gray. Quickly he brought the gun to bear and closed on his target, only to see he had missed the fight.

He kneeled next to the small body and examined the wound that had opened most of its chest to view. A big bullet traveling fast, a hunting rifle intended for large game, like a deer. Casey stopped and bent closer to the body and investigated the wound.

Small tubes laced in white foam filler and odd large white nodes hung from elastic threads. He touched the filler tentatively; his finger pushing against a resiliency that did not seem like flesh.

Setting the gun aside, he placed both hands on either side of the head and pulled. The bulbous head came away from the shoulders with a pop revealing a metal connection that held the head to the alien’s shoulders.

“It’s a robot,” Casey said aloud without realizing he spoke.