I had the thing in my sights. I could barley discern its spindly limbs from the tree branches, but it’s hard to miss that head.

Kneeling by a stream, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat… it was dying, but I kept the rifle trained just in case. Years ago, one of these would have sent me screaming into the streets; now they were old news. They came from another world, destroyed everything; even themselves. No one knew exactly what had happened, only that one day the ships were toppling skyscrapers, and the next… nothing. They screwed up. We started to see them wandering the ruins they had created, scavenging supplies. They sure as hell weren’t built to survive the elements, that was for sure. Without their technology, they were helpless. Five years later, we were still seeing them, but fewer and farther between.

The head turned slowly to look at me with glistening bug eyes. Too weak to be a threat. Shot it anyway.

Not much meat on these things anymore, but beggars can’t be choosers.