Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #18 September 2015 | Page 68
“I hate it when they do that...” was all I could
say. The little shits could teleport at will, without
any machinery or visible assistance. They constantly
appeared and disappeared, and it was annoying.
My mind drifted back to the first contact;
one of them had appeared out of nowhere and found
itself in the flight path of a commercial jet. The plane
smacked it with a wing, immediately killing it, but the
body fell and created quite a sensation. Within hours,
more started to manifest all over the city, and days
later, they were appearing all over the world. Not long
after, the Green Unit was formed out of pure necessity.
Charlie quickly pounced on his charge and
pushed the being to the ground. He then rolled it
onto its belly, where he secured handcuffs around the
creature’s pudgy ankles. They had to be secured by
their legs, because the things had no bones in their
thin arms and could slide them right out of restraints.
The cuffs also stopped them from disappearing;
they couldn’t teleport with anything metallic in
contact with their bodies, though it seemed as if they
frequently forgot that fact.
and dragging the stoned
alien to the patrol
car. The creature
squawked and
protested, claiming
its face was being
torn off, then erupted
with laughter as it was
tossed into the back of
the cruiser. There wasn’t
so much as a scratch on it
anywhere.
A rustling in the bushes just
off the dirt road stole my focus, and I moved towards
the disturbance. I heard the unmistakable sound of
prolonged flatulence and followed the noise to its
source; the escaped alien had reappeared not more
than twenty feet away. It was common. The things
were so wasted that they couldn’t teleport themselves
with any accuracy or distance. Hence, once they were
here, they never left.
I reached into the pocket of my trench coat and
retrieved my own cuffs as I approached the drunken
alien. I looked down at the slovenly creature now
coated in leaves, sand and pebbles adhering to the
waste covering most its body. To hell with this, echoed
in my head.
“Ahhhh! You’re killing me! It hurts! They’re
too tight! Ahh!!! I’m dying!!!” the creature wailed
while grunting between its cries with the effort of
attempted teleportation.
“What is it?” Charlie called out.
The rookie recoiled and looked at me, his dark
eyes revealed a mixture of surprise and confusion,
“Um, boss? I mean, Sergeant Morgan, sir. Is this for
real?”
“Nothing. It must have been an animal,” I
lied, not wanting to touch the drunk, disgusting thing
rolling around in its own excretions. I walked back to
the cruiser and climbed into the driver’s seat, waited
for Charlie to get in, and we departed for the station to
drop off our prisoner.
“Don’t buy into that crap, it’s just drama,”
I confirmed. Short on theatrics the aliens were not,
however, their skin was extremely tough. They didn’t
seem to register physical damage as pain, even when
their nearly fluorescent green blood was spilled.
But they sure acted as if they were in total agony. If
anyone were foolish enough to fall for the ploy, the
reward was either a vanishing alien or an explosion of
extraterrestrial excrement. “Just put him in the car.”
Charlie obliged, grabbing the chain of the cuffs
Within minutes of trading the dirt road for
pavement, the obnoxious droning of the alien lush
snoring in the back seat assaulted my ears. Charlie
giggled, and I let my face drop into a scowl before
glancing at him. His elation ran away, but I held his
gaze for several seconds to convey my seriousness.
The younger man cleared his throat and looked
straight ahead.
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