Touched by an Alien

okay.”
    Reader managed a laugh. “Just protecting Jeff’s interests.” He leaned his head against mine. “You two okay?”
    “I think so. Hard to be positive, but he seems like himself again.”
    “Good.” Reader stopped. “Look, do you see something moving?”
    I stared where he was pointing. There was a curved carcass section in front of us forming what looked like a dead meat tent. I could see something shimmer in it, just for a moment. “Yeah, I think we have a target.” I unhooked Reader from my shoulders. “You stay here. You’re okay to stand?”
    “Yeah.” He reached into my purse and grabbed another aerosol. “I like to shoot two-handed.”
    “Me, too.” I switched my music back to Aerosmith, “Toys in the Attic” album, and followed his example. “Okay, stay alert.” Ahhh, nothing like my boys in my ears to make it all seem better.
    I edged forward. I knew I didn’t want to get too close, because these things could move. So I approached it as I would a snake—really slowly with my weapon held far out in front of me, ready to leap away and run at a moment’s notice.
    I reached aerosol range and started spraying as I moved forward about an inch at a time. I was at what now looked like a cave entrance, and I had the unenviable choice of dropping to my hands and knees to take a look inside or tossing the carcass part over. I wanted to do neither.
    The ground shook, and I risked a look over my shoulder. Mephistopheles was heading for us, batting jets away. I decided touching the carcass was the lesser of two evils, and fear gave me that extra shot of adrenaline. I flipped it. It felt exactly as I imagined a boiled and burned giant rubber monster would feel. I managed to keep gagging to a minimum.
    The parasite was there, still alive and moving. In fact, by the time I had the dead meat moved, it was on my foot. I didn’t scream—I was too busy spraying with both hands. It didn’t stop it, but it did release my foot.
    One can was empty, and I tossed it aside as I leaped backward. I dug through my purse for the Glock. There it was, and I realized I’d never set the safety. I decided to consider this a great example of forethought rather than my being the stupidest gun handler on the planet.
    Aimed, shot, scored. I was getting good with this thing. Either terror, genetics, or the combination were ensuring I could indeed hit what I wanted. I didn’t have to empty the full clip this time. The parasite broke apart after six shots, and I sprayed the rest of it until it dissolved and bubbled away.
    This didn’t take too long, which was a good thing. “Ah, girlfriend? I think we’re in trouble again.”
    I spun around to see Mephistopheles bat a jet out of the air as he moved toward us. The jet spun out of control and smashed into the ground about a mile away. I knew without asking that the pilot, and any passengers he might have had with him, didn’t have a chance.
    I hadn’t seen any of them in person, didn’t know their names, but they were my guys. And the chance that Lorraine or Claudia was in that jet was high, and they were my friends, even though I’d only known them a day. It was stupid, but I got mad, madder than I’d ever been before. And just like at JFK, I ran right toward Mephistopheles. I didn’t shout or speak, I just ran, as if I were in the Olympics and he was the gold medal.
    He saw me coming, this huge monster. I expected him to try to stomp me or catch me. But instead he spoke. “It’s not over.” And then he turned and ran.
    I kept after him, but he built up speed and lifted off the ground, wings flapping. He could really book when he was flying, and he outdistanced the jets quickly. I stopped running, dropped the Glock back into my purse, ripped my headphones off, and pulled out the walkie. “I want everyone to disengage right now!”
    “Yes, Miss Katt.” It was White.
    “Who died?” I was shaking, but I wasn’t crying yet.
    “One of the pilots. Both Lorraine and Claudia are safe; their pilots didn’t engage because the girls were with them.”
    “Who was he?”
    “Lieutenant William Cox,” Gower answered.
    “What do we do for his family?” Silence. “What do we do? Goddamn it, what the hell do we do for them?” I was screaming now.
    Someone grabbed me and pulled me to him. “Shhh, baby, shhh.” Martini shoved my face into his chest. “Everyone who works with us knows the risks. It’ll be handled.”
    I pulled away from him. “How can