Touched by an Alien

the body began to move. My arm was still caught in the ear hairs and I decided trying to shoot myself free was not going to be a smart idea. The one positive about being covered with dead jellyfish slime was that it made my arm slick. I had to really work at it, but I got my arm free as the body lifted off me.
    I could see now, and what I saw were two pairs of black-clad legs from the knees down. A-Cs were strong. Thank God. I dropped and crawled out. As soon as I was clear they dropped the body back to the ground with a thud.
    Someone picked me up. “You’re a mess. And thanks for the headache. I didn’t feel bad enough.”
    “Jeff, I’m covered with dead parasite.” I managed to get this out without screaming.
    Christopher reached into my purse and pulled out an aerosol can. “Don’t know why you have trouble, it’s easy to find stuff in there.” Martini glared. He was almost up to Christopher’s standards. “Get back, Jeff. Kitty, stand still and close your eyes.”
    I did as he said and he sprayed me all over. I was wet but I felt the parasite bubbling away.
    “Is any in your nose or mouth?” Martini asked.
    “I don’t think so.” Christopher sprayed my face. “I said I don’t think so!”
    “Have to be sure.” He sounded like he was laughing.
    I opened my eyes. He was laughing. I was back to considering the benefits of just hating him. Martini, on the other hand, was staring at my chest. I looked down. My top was soaked and I was in the running for the A-C wet T-shirt contest. “How’re we doing?”
    “We’re all still alive,” Martini said, sounding somewhat surprised.
    I looked around. Earwig was, thankfully, dead. His eyes were back to human. It made him look even more horrible than he had. Well, I’d avenged my sort of romantic rival’s brutal murder. Maybe Martini would continue to speak to me if we survived.
    We moved away from Earwig, and I could see that Reader was doing pretty well against the Killer. It had several limbs missing, and though the Humvee seemed to be covered with a nasty greenish-yellow ooze, it was still being driven, moving nimbly for something so ponderous. He was also keeping it away from the rest of us, which was one small blessing in a field of grossness.
    The girls had somehow mounted the Pachyderm and were riding it like a bull at Gilly’s. I was awed, and I found myself wishing I had a movie camera. “Girls Gone Wild” would have paid a fortune for this footage.
    Motorhead was no longer on the audio menu. Tim had switched to the Beastie Boys and had the bass turned way up. He was dueling with the Serpent; the beat and their tonality seemed to be affecting it, and its strikes were off.
    “Love your musical choices,” Martini said to me.
    “They’re keeping us alive.”
    “Yeah. Rock and rap as the saviors of mankind?”
    “Rock and roll will never die.”
    “We might,” Christopher said, as the Pachyderm bucked and thundered nearby and the Slug inched toward us.
    We backed away from the Slug, and then, over the sounds of “Fight for Your Right,” our air support arrived.
    The jets had a payload, and I knew we didn’t want to be near their drop zone. “We have to get out of here.”
    Martini grabbed my hand, and we were moving at hyperspeed. We were far away from the action, which was good, and I was so far past grossed out and adrenalized to the max that I didn’t get nauseous. I was worried about the girls, but the Pachyderm was frightened by the jets buzzing it, and it stampeded off, toward us, but away from the Slug.
    The jets were amazing to watch, fast and expertly flown. They dropped their salt payloads with impressive accuracy while avoiding Mephistopheles, who was trying to knock them out of the air.
    A larger plane arrived now, flanked by more fighters. This one I figured had the water. “How did it get here so fast?”
    “We can create ocean water at the Science Center,” Christopher informed me. “We need to be ready in case a parasite hits a whale.” Wonderful news—they could get any mammal. I was glad our pets were safe.
    The salt was working. The Slug wasn’t moving, and even from this distance I could see it bubbling. The big plane was overhead and dumped its water load. “Wow.” The slug disintegrated. “How do we know that killed the parasite?”
    Martini grabbed my hand again, and we all raced back. There was a jellyfish in the midst of the muddy remains of the Slug. It was pulsing, but slowly. I could tell