"Mac," she said, not knowing how to begin. "Where is that hand?"
"You still worried about that?" He took off his coat and threw it on the table.
"But Mac! They've come after it."
He looked at her dully. "Who's come after it?"
"The aliens—from the ship. There's one of them in the yard. Look out the window."
He turned around and saw the stationary figure in the yard. He took a deep breath. "So that's one of 'em, eh?" He laughed in a way that chilled her, then went to the cupboard and reached for his shotgun on the wall next to it.
Alice put her hand on his shoulders and he stopped before he touched the gun.
"Listen, Mac. They need that hand. It belongs to one of their men and they need it because they're going to put it back on and it will be as good as new. Then they're going to leave."
He looked down at her with bloodshot, narrow eyes and she could see where tobacco had run out of the corner of his mouth and the only thing she could think of was what it would look like on the overalls when she'd wash them.
"That thing out there," Mac said, "ain't got no business 'round here scarin' the pigs and chickens. And I aim to get it."