"It's the perfect time for it," I mumbled. "World's all mixed up, everything is in a state of flux. They could land and how could you tell? DP's come into the country every day. That's one reason why we never notice."
"And you can't tell the aliens from human beings, can you?"
"No, you can't." I paused and wiped away the sweat from my forehead. "They're perfect copies. There's no way of finding them out. The man in the store could have been one. The driver was—and I couldn't have guessed." I laughed. "You could be one, too, for that matter."
He was up at the fireplace, stirring the embers again. When I finished talking he turned around, the poker clutched in his hand. His face was impassive.
"Not only could be, Charley. I am."
I suppose there's a time in everybody's life when the chips are down and you have to react automatically, you have no room for thought. I let him have the bottle square in the face and then the poker glanced off my shoulder and he was on me.
He gripped me by the throat and forced me back against the wall. "You'll never leave alive," he said and it was like ice-water down my neck because he said it in a monotone, with no emotion at all. I tried to break his grip and couldn't and then the world turned a spotty black and I could feel my life start to slip away like a bar of wet soap.
I fell to the floor and doubled my knees and drove my heavy boots into his stomach. He had to loosen his hold then and for a moment I was free. I didn't waste time and I didn't bother about fighting fair.
We both went for the poker but I got there first.
I killed a man that night. Without compunction, without regrets, without any hesitation. I killed Fred and buried him in the woods and loaded the car that same night.