Air Rifle

Bobby wasn't sure if his air rifle would be effective against the aliens who broke into houses and took kids away. But he kept it next to him as he lay in bed. Ralph, his best friend, had vanished recently. Ralph's parents said he went away to camp, but Bobby knew better. Ralph would never leave without telling him.
The boys had discussed the shadows in their bedrooms and the strange, low noises like tiny subway trains were passing through. They never mentioned this to the other kids who already thought they were odd.
If Ralph had been eaten, the adults would never find the bones, Bobby was sure.
As happens with little boys, Bobby fell asleep anyway. He dreamed of running away from something, dodging and changing direction, running out of the town onto the highway, screaming for help. Just before dawn, he was awakened by a noise very close. Something was crawling on his hand and speaking. He jumped up, knocking the rifle to the floor.
There were six of them, very small and intense. "We are from the planet Zarcon and are here to study earthlings," one said. "You have very comfortable bedding. On our planet we sleep on top of each other. The one on the bottom usually wakes up cranky. Are you familiar with cranky?"
Bobby was too frightened to say anything but "Please don't eat me!"
"We are not a violent race. Could you explain this thing called artichoke? Is it a weapon?"
Booby lay back, closed his eyes and kept repeating 'this is only a dream.'
One of them began dancing in his open palm.
"What did you do with Ralph!?"