He went into the kitchen to heat a cup of water in the microwave, then added the mix with miniature marshmallows. “Gotta have the marshmallows,” he murmured to himself. It wasn’t real hot cocoa without them.

            Taking his mug back into the living room, instead of resuming his seat in front of the television, he walked over to the glass patio doors and stared outside. The snow was coming down harder. Already his deck chairs and grill were layered in the stuff. He blew on the hot liquid and took a sip. He wouldn’t be surprised if the storm left a foot of fine powder by morning.

            The tiny lights twinkling on the little tree behind him reflected in the glass door, catching his attention. Beside it, the angel doll appeared to be watching him.

            He glanced over his shoulder and raised his mug. “Would you like a cup of hot cocoa, too?” he asked with a silly grin. He knew it was a goofy thing to do, talking to an inanimate object as if it was capable of answering, but he didn’t care. Something about that doll gave him a good feeling about himself.

            He turned back to the patio, when a streak of pure white light fell from out of the bank of clouds and plummeted to the ground. Thinking it might be a meteorite, he shoved open the door and rushed outside in time to see it land over on the next block, in the undeveloped field behind where an apartment complex was being built.

            As the light from the object gradually faded, Marq continued to stare at it, unmindful of the cold, or the fact that his clothes were getting wet from the snow. He focused on the meteorite and debated on whether to brave the weather and check it out, when a movement left him breathless.

            The meteorite moved.

            No, his mind corrected him. It wasn’t a piece of space debris. Space debris didn’t try to stand up. Or could it?

            It moved again.

            Whirling around, he dashed for the front door, grabbing his coat and keys on the way out. He hit the elevator button, but the lift sat unmoving on the lobby floor. Not wanting to wait for it, he took the stairs and hurried out of the building.

            The image of the struggling figure in the field could only mean one thing. The space rock, or whatever the hell had fallen out of the sky, had struck someone crossing that field. Someone was hurt and injured, and needed immediate help.

            He was halfway to the field when he searched his pockets for his cell phone to call 9-1-1, when he realized he’d left it on the coffee table back at the condo. Mouthing a curse word, he decided to keep going and help the poor sod who’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time. With any luck, he could flag down someone passing by and have them call in the emergency.

            If there is an emergency, he silently told himself. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped he’d imagined what he’d witnessed. Or if he had actually seen someone getting struck by a piece of space rock, that they were okay and wouldn’t need to go to the hospital.

            His pants and shoes were thoroughly soaked by the time he reached the empty lot. The white light had dissipated, and it was too damn dark to see if anything lay amid the tall grass and brush. He should have brought a flashlight with him. “Maybe I just imagined it,” he muttered as a shiver went through him. In spite of his coat, his head was bare. If he was trying to prevent himself from coming down with anything, he was doing a piss poor job of it.

            He debated whether to wade into the lot and keep looking for heaven knew what, or to go back to his nice warm condo and the mug of hot chocolate he’d left on the patio, which was probably ice cold by now. Stomping his feet, he turned to leave when he heard a soft cry, like someone was in pain.

            Shit. He hadn’t imagined it.

            He tromped into the thicket of ice-coated grasses that swatted at him as he plowed through them. “Hello? Can you hear me? Say something so I can find you!”

            Straining his ears, he tried to tune out the sound of traffic and focus on what might be ahead. It came to him again. A groan, or a moan, as if someone was indeed suffering.

            He had to detour around a large bush, and almost stumbled over the figure struggling to get to their feet. In the dim light, it was hard to tell if the person was a man or a woman. However, it was evident he or she was seriously injured.

            “Hey, hey. It’s going to be all right. Here, take my arm. We’ll get you someplace out of this cold, and call you an ambulance.”

            “No…’blance,” the person muttered. A woman. Geeze, the meteorite had taken out a woman?

            She grasped his coat sleeve. Her grip was like iron in spite of her injuries. She raised her head to look at him. In the semi-darkness, it was impossible to get a good look at her face.

            “Go,” she uttered, swaying on her feet. “Go ‘way. Leave.” She acted as if she was intoxicated, but there wasn’t any smell of alcohol coming off of her. Marq knew that if he hadn’t seen what he’d seen, he might have thought she was under the influence of something. Or maybe she was suffering from a drug overdose. None of that mattered right now. What was important was to first get her out of the cold so he could see if she needed medical help.

            “Sorry, but I’m not leaving you out here. Let’s get you someplace warm.” Wrapping a firm arm around her waist, he helped her out of the brush and over to the sidewalk. His hand clutched her hip, and he realized she was wearing a thin jacket at best. Her steps were unsteady, her legs barely supporting her. Her body shook, either from the cold or from what had happened to her.

            He glanced around, but the street and sidewalk was bare. The nearest building was the apartment complex the next block over, but finding someone who’d be willing to take them in long enough to call for help was iffy at best.

            Marq glanced across the lot at the six-story condominium. It was only a little farther away as the complex, but it was a safer bet to take her there. He adjusted his arm around her. “Come on. My place is in that building over there.” He pointed to it. “It’s a lot safer than you being out here, and God knows how badly injured you are.”

            She seemed to hesitate a moment, then slowly nodded once. “Yes. God knows,” she whispered, and slumped unconscious against him.