Craig slid down behind the tree, gasping for breath. He could run no further. The moss concealed him for now, but the alien hybrids seemed to have a keen sense of his location. He wasn't sure how, but they had followed him for the last several miles and despite his adrenaline fed speed, they had kept up, seemingly without effort. The moss was cool and damp against his heated skin and he was tempted to remain where he was, but knew he had to hide the camera and leave a marker for the villagers before leading the hybrids away.

He couldn't risk giving away the location of the village. While he hadn't been alive when they landed thirty years ago, the tales of the destruction, houses burned and limbs strewn among the smoking rubble, had been passed down from the elders. He wasn't willing to risk that these were any less brutal. He and Sam had a hiding place in a tree where they left relics from the aliens. The villagers would be outraged if they knew how close the boys had been to the alien lands so they hid their finds in a hollowed out tree at the edge of the moss-covered forest.

Craig moved a vine and found the tree. He still couldn't hear the hybrids so he took the time to place the camera gently in the back and arrange the vines to cover the opening. Neither Sam nor Craig usually bothered with more than a cursory covering, but Craig needed to be certain that if they wouldn't find the camera. It contained the only proof of the alien hybrids existence. The villagers needed to know of this new threat. Deciding that it was hidden as well as possible, Craig stood and ran through the woods, leading the hybrids away from the village. He still couldn't hear them, but he was certain that they were following. He stuffed his last piece of jerky into his mouth and ran out. He would run until it was impossible to run further. If he made it through the night, he would return in the morning.

Moments later, the hybrids passed the tree where the camera was tucked away, waiting for Sam to find it.