The front door burst open and Ian stood in the frame, pulling someone into the house.

The women standing at the dining room table, each checking a gun, looked up in shock. Lia and Guy recoiled out of the couch and stared openmouthed as the men dragged Bob into the living room.

"Get a first aid kit," Ian's face red from exertion and anger as he gently laid Bob on the couch and lifted his feet while John placed a pillow beneath his father-in-law's legs.

The people who had been watching football in the living room were shouting questions at the survivors.

The women in the dining room ran to the living room to see if they could help, their voices adding to the din.

Marie stood by the fireplace, the camera still held to her eye, a small voice in her mind telling her she needed to record this night's events, while she cried from the shock of the fight.

Carol heard the commotion and Ian's demand, hurried to the kitchen sink, and pulled a white box from under the sink. Gathering herself, she thought about her role, then hurried to the dining-room door, wondering what type of shock Turner and his men had planned for the family members who had ventured out of the house.

The box fell from her hands as she gasped. The family members turned to see Carol frozen in the doorway.

"It's all right, Mom," John hurried to gather the first aid kit while the others stared at Carol, "it's just a flesh wound."

"Bob?" Carol's voice wavered, then she was hurrying to the couch and her husband.

Bob lay quietly, his mouth set in a grimace, as Ian dug a penknife from his pocket and cut away the sleeve of his shirt. As Carol kneeled at his side, peeling the cloth from Bob's arm revealing an angry red groove burned through the top of his forearm.

They stared at the gash, amazed it was not bleeding.

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"Any deeper, it would have hit bone." Ian rubbed his face.

Pushing aside the interfering family, John opened the kit and placed it on Bob's legs. He took a tube of anti-bacterial cream and deftly opened it, spreading cream on the wound. "How do you feel, Bob?"

"I'll live." With his free hand, Bob held Carol's hand and gave it a light squeeze.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the wound. This was real. She had seen prosthetic wounds in her career and this one was real, not some combination of soft rubber and jelly. She could see his individual muscles ripped by the destruction of her husband's arm. Yet he stayed in character.

"What happened?" Guy asked, then repeated the question as a demand.

The three men shared a look of doubt, Bob holding his tongue and the other two men following suit.

"It was an alien." Marie supplied the answer, the rest of her family turning to look at the girl, facing the camera with varying degrees of incredulity and doubt.

"It's true," she defended herself. "An alien landed in the gully and killed two men who were near it, then it shot at Dad."

"Damnit Marie," Jim was truly into his role, Carol thought. "When are you going to stop dreaming up these stupid stories?" He faced Ian. "Well, what happened?"

"She's right." Ian spied the weapons sitting on the dining room table. He walked to the guns and picked up a shotgun, breaking it open to examine the barrel. "We saw an alien kill two men in the gully."

Jim looked at John and saw confirmation on his brother-in-law's face.

"For all we know, the damn thing is coming to the house now." Ian looked for shotgun shells.

Tying the bandage on Bob's arm with a small knot, John stood, glanced down at the shorter Jim, then walked to the table and took up a gun. "Where's the ammunition?"

Seeing no help to come from her mother, Sally walked from the room. "I'll get it."

"You don't really expect us to believe..." Jim fought against the insanity.

"It's true," Marie still offended.

"I told you to shut up."

"Do not yell at Marie." Bob sat up despite Carol's protests.

"It doesn't matter what you think," Ian favored Jim with a scowl. "I do not expect you to dirty your hands defending the family. I would not want to force a conscientious objector to hold a gun."

"That war was wrong." Clenching his fists, Jim took a step towards his brother.

"You made your choice. Now stand back while real men defend this family."

Sally arrived with arms full of ammunition. She bent at the waist and piled it onto the dining room table, heedless of the damage she was doing to the woodwork.

"Enough," Bob glared at the brothers. "The alien will get here while the two of you are arguing old wounds."

A flicker of light in the camera attracted Marie's attention; she swung the camera to look out the Living room window. Small, bright lights crossed the panes randomly, a strange dance to the tension in the room.

"We're too late." She held back the tears.