"Welcome to Melville."

"Forgive me, sir, but where exactly is that?"

Frank gave him a funny look and said, "Why it's just outsida Pickerin'."

Murdoch's eyes bulged involuntarily. Was he serious? Because if so, they had blown over twenty kilometers away from Toronto!

"Somethin' the matter mister?" asked Frank.

"I'm just a bit shocked to be so far away from home."

"Where was it you done come from in that crazy contraption of yours?"

"The city of Toronto."

"Shu-wee!" he exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "That sure is a long ways off fella."

"Yes, it's quite a bit more than I was expecting."

Frank hadn't lied about the size of the town. If one could even call it that. There appeared to be only ten buildings in the whole place! Most of which were people's houses, (but closer to shacks than anything else), and most of which had seen better days. As far as he could tell in the fading light (for there were no lanterns), there wasn't even a general store of any sort. He figured that they must get all their supplies from a nearby town. All in all, it was a very lonely sort of place, and the last place he wished to be at the moment. But there was nothing he could do about it. There was one consolation: at least they weren't still in the forest. Murdoch could barely move anymore and his arms had become numb from holding the rifle in the same position for so long. In fact, his fingers felt like they were glued to it.

As they approached one of the shacks, a middle aged lady came out to greet them.

She took one look at the scene and said half scoldingly, half teasingly, "How many times do I gotta tell y'all that deers is the ones with antlers sticking outta their heads?"

"Sorry mama," said Marvin. "We done the best we could. Ain't nothin'-"

She waved her hands and said, "Never min' 'bout that! Where's your manners boys?" she snapped. "Those two look fixin' to die any minute now! Bring 'em on in near the fire, Frankie. And you," she said to Marvin, "go get Miss Lidia and then wash up for dinner. It's just 'bout ready."

"Yes mama," said Marvin and then hurried off to complete his assigned tasks.

After she scooted them into her house, (which was lit with only a few lamps) and Julia was laid beside the fire place (where a delightful smell was emanating from a pot), she pried the rifle out of Murdoch's hands with surprising ease for an older woman and then yanked the other off of Frank.

"I'd ruther not have these here darn things in my home! No siree bob! Not on my watch!" Then she strode outside and leaned them against the house.

Murdoch looked at Frank for explanation as he tried to make his fingers function.

"Our papa was a damn fool who drank whiskey like it was water." He looked across the room and into the kitchen, "Sho' nuff, he had an accident one night."

Murdoch could still make out the shotgun holes and shivered.

"Mister," said Frank, "you best hunker down by the purdy lady 'fore you freeze to death! I'd offer you a change of clothes," he patted his torso, "but, well, I don't got none." His eyes lit up and he left the living room and into a side one. When he reemerged, he was carrying a stack of clothing. "You can have papa's ol' suit." Murdoch gave him a confused look and Frank explained, "We done buried him in his regimentals. He done like nothin' better than to shoot them fellers between the eyes." Frank smiled at that, like it was a fond memory and then said, "And I brought this," he held out a big woolen blanket, "for your lady friend."

Murdoch graciously accepted both things and hurried to cover Julia up. Her teeth immediately stopped chattering, something he was extremely pleased to note. Then he went into another room and changed out of his damp clothing as quickly as he could. His hands were still not functioning properly so it was not nearly as fast as he would have liked. The brown suit wasn't the best fit so he used his belt to hold up the trousers. At least he wasn't freezing anymore and wouldn't be uncomfortable.

When he finally resurfaced, it was to a youngish lady holding a lantern and hovering over Julia. Murdoch didn't like the fact that she kept making tsking sounds as she examined her wounds. If Marvin had washed up, it sure didn't show. He was just as dirty as ever. Marvin must have caught sight of Murdoch then because he laughed again. This time Frank punched him in the arm.

"Sorry, mister. Papa was a darn big fella. I just thought-"

"It's quite all right Frank. These clothes are fine."

Murdoch knelt down beside Lidia and asked (having a bad sense of déjà vu as he did), "What can you tell me doctor?"

Lidia looked up and smirked at that. "I'm not a doctor, sir," she said, with no trace of accent. "I just help these folks out the best that I know how. My daddy was the one who taught me everything I know. But he wasn't a doctor either. It just came natural to him I guess."

Disappointed to hear this news and trying not to let it show, he said, "Nevertheless, Lidia, what is your diagnosis?"

She pursed her lips and said, "This woman is lucky to be alive. And by your looks, I'd say the same thing applies to you. What the hell happened to you two?"

"We fell out of the sky."

Lidia looked like she was going to laugh but when she saw Murdoch's expression, decided against it. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so, miss."

"I told you they was Martians!" yelled Marvin. "They gonna get us! We should-"

Frank just punched him again and Marvin quieted down, with a grimace on his face as he rubbed the sore spot on his arm.

"What in tarnation is all that racket 'bout?" said their mother as she came into the room to grab whatever was cooking over the fire.

"Nothin' mama!" exclaimed Frank. "We all good now!"

Mama eyed her boys suspiciously and then exited the room again.

"Anyways," said Murdoch, "can you fix her?"

"Of course I can," responded Lidia. "It shouldn't be too difficult."

"Then why do you look so worried?"

"Well… I'll clean it the best I can but this wound got awfully dirty and…" Her voice trailed off here.

He knew what she meant but asked anyways, "And what?"

"And, her chances at recovery won't be as high if she's suffering from an infection. And judging by her fever, I'd say that it's very likely."

It was then that Murdoch noted the beads of sweat on her forehead. "Can't you give her something for that?"

"Of course."

"So what's the problem!" he exclaimed.

"People sometimes have a bad reaction to it."

"How bad?" he asked dreading the answer.

"Let's just say, there used to be more of us in this town."

Murdoch looked away to hide his tears from her. However, he quickly regained control of his emotions. "Well, then, miss, you better get to it."

Lidia gave him a sympathetic look but didn't say anything. Then she retrieved the needed supplies from her bag and got to work.

They had a surprisingly scrumptious dinner while Lidia tended to Julia. Murdoch was told that it was moose stew. He took their word for it since he had never had such a thing before. While they ate, the boys filled Mama in on everything they had seen that day, the story culminating in the hot air balloon crash, which they still referred to as a thingamajig. Mama oohed and aahed at the fantastical story and kept looking at Murdoch like maybe Marvin was right. After several 'heavens to Betsy's', she had calmed down enough to start telling Murdoch about everything required to make such a perfect dish. The boys groaned but she paid them no mind. Murdoch tried his hardest to be polite and pay attention but after the days' events and now a full stomach, he found his eyes drooping frequently. Both the boys sniggered when they saw what was happening to him. Mama scolded them for it and then led Murdoch to the bedroom.

"You can rest here for the night, mister. Them boys can just sleep outside. They used to it anyways."

The bed did look extremely inviting but he still felt there was something off about these people and didn't want to leave Julia alone all night. "Actually, ma'am, I'd like to stay with her if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself, fella. But that floor get awful uncomfortable after a while."

"That's really not necessary," said Lidia by the fire. She looked apologetic, "It's hard not to eavesdrop in these houses. Anyways, what I meant was that you won't be able to do anything for her. Her fate is in God's hands now. And besides which, you look like you could really use some rest yourself. "

"I appreciate your concern, miss, but I assure you, it's unwarranted."

Lidia didn't look like she believed that in the slightest but chose not to comment. "Well, at least let me check you out a bit before I go." He was about to protest when she continued, "I'll sleep better if you do me this one courtesy."

Murdoch sighed and let her examine him. She cleaned and bandaged the cuts on his abdomen and face. He winced when she touched his head injury but she paid him no mind and then proceeded to clean and bandage that as well.

"Other than that ugly bump on your head, you appear to be in remarkably good condition considering what happened to you. It's quite unbelievable actually." There was silence for a moment and then, "Tell me..."

"Detective Murdoch."

She gave him a piercing stare and then said, "Tell me detective, did you by any chance consume a large amount of alcohol before this spectacular fall of yours?"

"As a matter of fact, we did," he responded, puzzled at how she knew.

"Ah," she muttered, "that explains it."

"How so, Lidia?" he asked.

"Alcohol relaxes ones muscles a great deal. So much so that the body can survive things that it normally wouldn't be able to. The more intoxicated the person is, the greater the trauma can be."

Murdoch was surprised by her knowledge. "And how did you come to know this information, miss?"

"Oh, I read a lot," was her only response. "Well, I'm going to head out now. If you need me for any reason, just let me know. I'm in the house at the end of the road."

Murdoch recalled that that was one of the larger buildings in the area and an idea struck him. "Wait," he said, "is there by any chance a phone there?"

He thought it a good idea to inform the constabulary of what had happened to them, and maybe also to get a ride out of there.

"Yes, there is."

"Can I please use it?"

She seemed to hesitate before saying, "I'm afraid the storm knocked out my generator and it's not working at the moment."

Of course it did.

"Do you mind if I take a look at it, miss?"

"I thought you said you were a detective?"

"I did. But I might be able to fix the problem."

"All right, but then I really must insist that you get some rest."

"Of course." In his head he doubted very much that he'd allow himself to drift off to sleep. No matter how drowsy he was, he was far too antsy for such things. Just leaving Julia alone for the time it would take to inspect the generator was too much, as far as he was concerned anyways.

Now that the sun had set, and the only light available to them was emanating from Lidia's lamp, his apprehension was increased ten-fold. The place had a ghoulish quality to it since it was so disturbingly quiet. Then he had the unsettling feeling that he was being watched. He glanced around discreetly so as not to alarm Lidia but she picked up on his distress regardless.

"What seems to be the problem detective?"

"Oh, nothing."

"You feel like someone's watching you right?"

"How did you know?"

"Everyone feels that way for the first couple of nights here. Even I did."

"Forgive me for asking, but why exactly are you here? You don't really seem to belong."

"It's hard to explain, detective," she replied. "I guess this place just has sentimental value to me. I've found it hard to leave even though my father passed away some time ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks." They entered her house. "Well anyways, this is where I've lived all my life. It's not much but its home."

Compared to the rest of the town, the house was a mansion, full of semi-decent furniture and even a piano, though it was pretty run down.

She led him through the house and back outside again to where the generator resided and held up the lamp so that he could inspect it better. Nothing appeared to be damaged on the outside.

"Do you have any tools I could use to take off the cover?"

Lidia pointed to a box nearby on the ground. Murdoch retrieved the necessary tools and opened up the generator. It didn't take long to figure out what was wrong with it. The fact was, there wasn't anything wrong, nothing that he could see anyways.

What was going on here?

Then he heard what he had been dreading all along, the sound of a gun being cocked, and his blood ran cold.