A plane, several train cars, and a tractor trailer lay twisted in the rubble that once was a church. It was as though a giant baby had dropped his toys in a pile. Only two walls of the church remained, the arched windows empty save a few shards of colored glass. A small, green Martian walked across the debris, holding a futuristic pistol in front of him. He came upon the decimated cockpit of the plane and peered in through the window, pressing his rubbery skin against the cracked glass.

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At the bottom of the pit was a skeleton covered with large spiders. There were so many spiders that the skeleton itself looked to Edwelde like it was moving. He peered into the shadows, convinced that there were probably pieces of gold down there or at least jewelry that the man had died with before his flesh rotted and was consumed by insects.

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Sam looked like a porcupine he had so many arrows in his back. Spitting up blood, he stumbled down the dusty road, lurching with every step but managing to stay upright. The hardest part turned out to be making it up the porch steps. He’d get up one and then waver and stumble back. Then he’d try it again. By the time he made it to the front door, standing in a pool of his own blood, he was delirious.

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