When I saw that assault ship coming in, trailing smoke behind it and headed for the center of Thompson Corners, I was already in my parent’s pickup truck, on my way into town to pick up my sister from her friend’s house. It was ten minutes after the first sites got hit, the radio said the governor had just declared a state of emergency, urged everyone to remain calm, then all communications went out. No radio, no cellphones, no TV, no electricity. I didn’t need to wait for instructions, I was going to pick up my kid sister, get back home, and hunker down with my family until I figured out what the hell was happening. Behind the seat was my father’s bird hunting shotgun, and a box of shells that were good for quail and not much else. Shows how clearly I was thinking that morning. All my Army gear, including my rifle, were back at Fort Drum in New York state. I was, after all, on leave. Coming over the hill, I saw the ruins of the bridges, and nearly crashed into a line of traffic that was trying to get into town like I was. Bill Geary, a volunteer firefighter and a retired captain from the Maine National Guard, was getting people organized, to drive over to Woodford and come into Thompson Corners using the old fire road. I, like a dumbass, shouted that my truck had four wheel drive. Almost everybody in northern Maine has four wheel drive, even if it’s only a beat-up old Subaru. Since I was last in line, I got turned around first, and three guys whose car had gone in a ditch jumped in my truck. We roared off like the cavalry coming to the rescue in a movie.

By the time we fought through outbound traffic to get across the bridge in Woodford, and bounced along the poorly-maintained fire road halfway toward town, the Ruhar had already secured the center of Thomson Corners, which was empty because no humans had waited for an engraved invitation to get the hell out of there. One sheriff’s deputy panicked, and fired off a couple shots with his 9MM service weapon, until the Ruhar got annoyed and took out the Shell station he was hiding in, with what looked like an antitank rocket.

I’ve seen Ruhar up close since then, plenty of times. No, they don’t eat humans. And, no, they don’t kill babies. Believe the propaganda if you want, I know what I’ve seen. If that sheriff’s deputy hadn’t opened fire, the Ruhar might not have killed a single person in town. I couldn’t blame the Ruhar; if some idiot was taking potshots at me, I’d light him up with a rocket, too. I know, because I’d done the same thing in Nigeria.