John hauled the dead weight of the woman to the safety of the trees. Lia could help, he thought with rancor; after all, he had just saved her life.

Searching for a spot to hide in, he saw a hedge of sumac where light from the saucer pierced its center. It was perfect. Working his way into the bush, he tried to ignore the pricks of nettles against his skin and hoped he was not allergic to the poison. Once in the center, he turned and pulled Lia into the shelter.

From her lack of movement, he expected his sister-in-law might be dead.

Lia lay on the ground, her eyes gazing upward and her mouth trembling.

He pondered the problem for a few seconds, then decided she was in shock, or some kind of trance inflicted by the aliens. John also decided he had no time to deal with this type of behavior. If he could act against the aliens, then Lia would have to do the same or she would die.

Remembering a method of startling a shock victim to full consciousness, John paused. She would probably kick the hell out of him if he did it. At least she would be awake.

Placing his fingers on the tip of her nose, he sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound.

He pinched.

He expected a gasp of pain, Lia screamed and her fist flew up from the ground and connected with John’s temple.

Seeing stars, he collapsed on Lia, keeping enough sense to place a hand over her mouth and whisper in her ear.

“If they hear you, they will come and kill us.”

Her head turned, and she looked into his eyes with a trace of recognition, then she bit his hand.

John rolled off Lia and tried unsuccessfully to rub his head and look at his hand.

“You prick,” Lia hissed, rubbing her tender anatomy. “Wait till I tell Sally.”

“Keep your voice down,” John whispered, then pulled the handgun from his belt while favoring his hand. Reluctantly, he handed the gun to Lia. “Would you rather I leave you with the aliens?”

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Accepting the gun, Lia started and looked at the spacecraft. “No,” she admitted with a shiver. “That still doesn’t explain why you had to pinch my nose.”

“I had to get you out of shock,” John began, pulling the newly gained weapons to his lap and examining them for damage.

“You’d better hope you don’t go into shock,” Lia looked at John, her face lost in the shadows. “I have a way I’m going to wake you up.” There was a distinctly unpleasant tone in her voice.

John paused and looked at her. “Probably cripple me too.”

“I thought you were dead,” she blurted, her voice rising. “Is Guy out here somewhere? Why didn’t he come and rescue me?”

“He’s dead,” John whispered bluntly. “Guy and Ian died in front of the house. They never had a chance. They blew me off my feet. Must be why the aliens missed me. I ran into the forest when I saw I could do nothing for them. I am sorry Lia. I liked them both.”

She sat silently. John returned to his study of the guns. One was an automatic weapon with a silencer attached to the muzzle. The clip was full, and the selector set for a single shot. He decided not to change the settings and placed the gun aside, but within fast reach.

The rifle was still in good condition, but he grimaced when he saw the fleshy matter clinging to the stock. He rubbed the butt of the gun on the forest floor and hoped he scrubbed most of the alien off.

Lia reached out and took hold of John’s arm, stopping his work. “My husband is dead. Why do not I feel anything? No pain, no loss, nothing. I do not even remember living with Guy.”

“The aliens were using some kind of weapon that made us lose our memories for short periods of time. I caught sight of the thing as I was running for the forest, but I thought it was a distortion of my vision. That is why you feel the way you feel. I do not really know.”

“No, that’s not it.” Lia took a quick look at the surrounding woods. “It is like the memories are gone, like they were never there. What am I supposed to do for a living?”

Looking at her in exasperation, John knew Lia would pursue the subject until she found a satisfactory answer. He considered the question. Surely, she had a job; he seemed to remember they all worked for a living. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Neither do I,” she huddled closer, intently. “You are a cop. Do you remember arresting anyone?”

John remembered his momentary confusion while crawling in the ferns. “No, but I...”

“Bullshit,” Lia interrupted. “I remember acting on a stage in a small theater. That is what I did for a living and I do not remember Guy being there.”

“So, did I,” he remembered the Shakespearean play, Lia had his attention now. Could it be he had no experience as a cop? How did he know how to wake Lia? How did he know how to fight the aliens?

“When did you marry Sally?”

Off guard, John could not reply quickly, though he tried to find the wedding in his memory. There was nothing personal, only weddings he had attended.

“You can’t remember,” she answered for John. “Neither do I. I cannot even remember a wedding night and I am certain I would remember something like that.”

Movement from the gully caught John’s eye. Roughly pushing Lia to the ground, he lay next to her and searched for the next attack.