Andrew McCarthy pulled his off his wet boots and stepped into the mudroom of his small log cabin. He leaned his rifle against the wall near by and noted the cabin had not been molested in his absence. His dog, Rosco, a multitude of mixes sniffed the air and dashed off into the main room through the doggie-door Andrew had installed last week.
There had been no sign of human life in the past three months, but animals seemed unaffected by whatever was making people drop dead. The strange noises overhead still lingered at night, but McCarthy had no inkling what caused the sounds. They weren't airplanes or helicopters and occasionally through the foliage above he could observe a light or two, or a shape, but none of it made any sense.
Andrew made his way into the main room and put some kindling into the fire place and stoked the fire up and poured some water into a pot to make some coffee. He'd found some supplies in another cabin a few miles distant and would put all of that stuff away after he warmed up. The cold was coming, and it had been raining for three solid days now. His rain water collection was growing and he needed to find some containers to bring the water into the cabin so it wouldn't all freeze in his buckets outside.
Rosco had parked his tired, wet, smelly-dog frame right in front of the fire, but was up like a shot and looking out a window. A short warning bark sounded and his ears fell back, the hair on his neck scruff stood our. Andy fell over his wet boots grabbing his rifle but manged to quiet the dog and look out the window. Behind the trees in the distance....
Genre - Science Fiction. Category - Disaster/War/TEOTWAWKI/invasion/alien (Anything can go into the story)
