Incubated
Chapter 2 — Dire Straits
“Elements of surprise and grotesque brutality impede effective resistance. Preemptive first strikes facilitate mass conversion.”
Alys was pissed. She knew deep down that going back to the bungalow was the right thing to do, but Sophie’s callous logic disturbed her. Her anger gave her legs strength as she ran down the beach towards the water.
A lifeguard dressed in a red shirt and shorts had already grabbed his yellow surfboard and was paddling out to the downed parachute with strong strokes. The chute had collapsed over the water like nylon pond scum, hiding the parachutist from view.
Alys hadn’t thought of herself an athlete, considering that her given profession was sitting in front of a computer screen, and she hadn’t been working out lately. Her waistline was proof of both facts. However, her mother had been paranoid about the danger of drowning, and had forced all of her children to take swimming lessons from a young age, so Alys knew the proper techniques.
She ran a few steps into the surf and dove in, converting to a crawl stroke once she had left the shallows. The familiar taste of briny water flowed over her face. She had been on vacation the last couple of days with her friends, but hadn’t taken too much time to swim, being more interested in sunbathing.
She shortly arrived at the lifeguard’s surfboard, the fiberglass bobbing in the waves. The young lifeguard with yellow tipped hair seemed a bit confused. “I can’t see anything!” he said. “The parachute’s in the way, I’m going to have to dive and look from below! Wait here and help me get the person out once I find them!”
Nodding assent, Alys grabbed onto the surfboard, and watched the muscular man dive underneath the glassy water. The parachute was massive, a tangled mess of cables and multi-colored nylon cloth, making it difficult to locate the victim.
A bloodcurdling scream came from shore. It was hard to see much from her vantage point with her eyes tearing up from the salt water. The vague, blurry shapes of the other beachgoers seemed to be coming closer to her, and there were black blobs working their way down the sand. She blinked and wiped her eyes, uncertain about what she might see next.
A starkly horrific scene came into focus. Several tourists were down on the ground, their bodies eviscerated. Great black alien monsters with sharp legs were trundling down the sea shore, killing any man they caught with horrendous efficiency.
“Run!” she screamed, knowing it was hopeless, feeling useless as the nightmare unfolded in front of her.
Suddenly, a sharp crack of a rifle echoed around her, and one of the large, crab like creatures exploded. A sharp, stinging feeling of surprise, followed by elation. The monsters were dropping like flies, exploding one after the other.
Her mind flitted back to the black case she had seen Nora checking at the spaceport. When she had asked about the contents, Nora had winked at her and pretended to fluff her boobs. “When I go on vacation, I make sure to bring my big guns!” What a cheeky lady!
“Go, Nora, go!” she shouted, watching as the aliens were taken out one by one. Loud roaring engine noises drew her attention—the pleasure craft that had been idling in the bay had finally noticed the alien carnage and were now trying to get away from the horror unfolding on the beach. She had forgotten about the life guard, so she jumped when a hand touched her elbow.
“I’ve found him!” shouted the scared young man. “I need some help to get him out!”
Caught between the horror unfolding on the beach and her original mission, Alys chose to help, swimming over to assist. The lifeguard, treading water, pointed at the mess of cloth. “He’s about ten meters in. We need to shift the chute away on the surface, there’s no way we can grab him from under water. We’ll need dive underneath and maneuver him out beneath the chute.”
Flinching at cacophony of shots and shouts coming from the beach and the distant roar of a boat engine, Alys struggled to concentrate on the task at hand. Drawing in a deep breath, she dove. Water flooded her ears, drowning out the sounds of gunfire and death. From below, everything seemed peaceful and idyllic. Sunlight danced from above, the flotsam floating above her looking like a giant jellyfish.
Beyond the tangled remains Alys spotted a body floating in the water. She followed the lifeguard, using her breaststroke to get back to the surface next to the victim. She surfaced on the opposite side of the body as the lifeguard, tenting the parachute cloth above her head with one arm while treading water. The man appeared middle aged, dressed in board shorts. Bruises were evident on his face and thighs. She tried to check his pulse, but he was pale and gray—obviously dead.
“We can’t work in here!” said the lifeguard, his face almost as pale as the dead man’s. “Help me get him back out to open water!”
She shook her head. “This is insane! He’s dead, we can’t help him, and you heard the shots. There are people dying on the beach!”
She motioned back in the general direction of the surfboard, and dove again. She had to face a hard truth—it was her impulsiveness and stupidity that had put her in this situation. If she had listened to Sophie, she wouldn’t be in need of rescue herself.
This had always been the pattern, even when she was a girl. Her antics never failed to explode her father’s towering temper into a raging volcano, especially when she had been found drawing pictures of sea shells on the walls for the fifth time in a week. Her impulsive ways as a child had turned into an asset when she had needed to prove her worth to her co-workers in the field of information technology. Now, it might well prove to be her end.
When she got back to the surfboard, the situation on shore had only gotten grimmer. The large crab like aliens had been reduced to scattered, broken limbs and piles of guts, but now there were smaller aliens assaulting the remaining tourists who were still trying to escape. Some people were lying on the ground or floating in the surf, the slick, black bodies of aliens clamped tightly over their skulls and hiding their faces. The distance was too great to see any detail, but she assumed they also would be dead soon.
She noticed that the comatose victims were all women; the men had been cut up like lumber and scattered across the shore, guts and blood staining the sand. The utter brutality and grotesquery of the situation had overwhelmed her mind. It was insane for her to have even gone to look at the parachutist with this going on a mere hundred meters away.
Knuckles white on the surfboard, Alys watched as a few of the small crawlers were picked off by rifle fire. It just wasn’t enough—there were still lots of crawlers in pursuit, and now it was clear that they could float and knew how to swim. The water proved to be no safety, as one after another vacationer was speared or enveloped. The lucky ones floated back to shore. The unlucky ones were speared, thrashed, and bled out, drenching the waters a ghastly red.
Paralyzed, she watched one coming towards her, its goal obvious. The head of the creature had no eyes, just a circular, wet expanse with defined muscles for each leg rippling under the opaque flesh. The tail was animated, propelling the alien forward with alarming speed. She stared at her doom, wondering if this was to be the end, when a large, black hole opened up in its body.
The bullet had struck the creature near the top, removing the upper half of its body. Its innards spurted green gunk that sunk into the water. That wasn’t the end of it, as more of them were coming—hissing, floating, eyeless predators. The rumble she had noticed earlier had increased in pitch, as if it was getting closer. Sudden realization sprouted in her brain. She turned and watched with hope as red chevrons on the side of a powerboat cut through the water next to the parachute like a razor, the wake rocking her up and down.
At the wheel was an older man, hair grizzled from the salt water. He killed the throttle and threw a buoy into the water near where Alys and the lifeguard were holding onto the surfboard. Once they had both grasped the ring, he started pulling them aboard.
“Hurry up!” shouted Alys, dreadfully aware of how close the pursuing monsters were. The gunshots had stopped now; she hoped Nora and Sophie were still doing okay. A muffled gasp and choking drew her attention to the lifeguard. He was grasping the line as hard as possible, but frothy red blood was bubbling from his lips. His eyes bulged fearfully from their sockets and he tried to say something, but nothing came out until a sharp, black spine shot through his lips. Disturbing gurgling noises were silenced when his head suddenly departed his body and spun off into the spray, the crawler attached to his back dissecting him with brutal efficiency.
Her stomach felt funny, and her arms rubbery. She watched as as his body slipped into the water in slow motion, the slick blackness of the monster embracing him in death. She hadn’t even known his name!
“Start pulling!” came a throaty growl. “There’s more of those bastards coming up, and I don’t plan on becoming lunch for no two-bit xeno scrubs!”
Sudden strength surged through her limbs. She refused to become another victim of the vicious monsters, or suffer whatever other fate they had intended for her. She pulled on the rope with more vigor than she had thought she had possessed, bringing her up to the shiny white side of the boat. A big beefy arm with a tattoo of a man strangling a shark grabbed ahold of her right arm and jerked her aboard as if she was a sack of flour. Stunned on the deck, she looked up at big bushy eyebrows that peered at her from under a cap which stated “Because I am the CAPTAIN and I SAID SO!” He grunted, but said nothing, lurching over to give the boat some throttle.
Too exhausted to even thank him, she gulped great breaths of air and leaned on the rail, her heart thudding as the boat danced in the water. Several black alien bodies bobbed in their wake along with human body parts. She cursed herself for being weak, but averted her gaze. She didn’t want to see what kind of massacre had happened on the beach.
The captain adroitly maneuvered the boat away from the parachute detritus, then gave it full throttle as they cleared the cove, speeding for several minutes out to sea. The noise and the motion of the boat bouncing on the water was too overwhelming for conversation, leaving her to her disturbed thoughts. What was she going to do now? She was stuck out here on a boat with a disgruntled sailor, separated from her friends, and they were on a world being massacred by an unknown alien intelligence.
Their gender discrimination clearly had a reason, but what it could be she wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to speculate. A bad holovid about aliens stealing females for mating purposes sprang to mind, but the premise had seemed ridiculous. She hadn’t seen anybody with alien death machines like she’d seen on the newsvids, so it probably wasn’t off-world slavers.
The creatures appeared to be somehow related to each other in form and function, and all of them looked exactly the same. If that was the case, their origin could be artificial. Despite how she turned the puzzle in the mind, there were no answers. There just wasn’t enough information for any conclusions.
Her thoughts drifted back to her missing compatriots, her heart aching, hoping they were okay. She refused to believe that they had been killed or worse yet, taken by the terror drones. Sophie may not be the most sympathetic person, but she had a good head. And Nora was a champion shooter. Still, she didn’t want to fill herself with false confidence. No matter how good the individuals in their small group, they didn’t stand much hope of escaping. Survival was their only option now.
The captain reduced the throttle and turned the boat into the waves, the whine from the electric motor reducing. They were a little ways from shore, the bungalows tiny dots in the distance.
“Name’s Dan.” The man didn’t put out his hand to shake, so Alys waited for him to finish. “There’s static on the radio,” said the stocky man.
His large arms bulged out of a blue t-shirt. “Xeno fuckers crawling all over the shore.” He pointed at the deck. “I have a harpoon, but I ain’t getting in spittin’ distance of no monsters. I ain’t no young fool.”
“I’m Alys.” she replied. “What are our options, then? How long can we stay at sea?”
“Not long. Supposed to be a day trip. All I have is a ham sandwich and a few water bottles in the cooler.”
The calculations flew through her head. At most they’d be able to stay away from land for a day or two, after which point they’d want fresh water. Humans couldn’t process salt water. Every swallow would increase the amount of water required to function until dehydration set in. The pleasant afternoon sun was starting to feel like a death sentence.
After a few days, her friends would have either left or they’d be dead. Either way, she’d likely never see them again unless she tried to locate them immediately. She briefly thought of asking the captain whether he had a flare for rescue, but thought better of it. If she had been the one with the boat, she wouldn’t be willing to give her only hope of rescue away.
“There’s a road south of the bungalows,” she said. “If you could drop me off away from the alien creatures, I could try and link up with my friends. From there, we can try to contact other survivors. You are welcome to join us.”
Dan looked off into the distance for a short while with an introspective expression, his scraggly hair tumbling out from beneath his cap. “You’re crazy,” he declared finally. “Cap’n Dan’s seen some shit in his day, and he’s going to stay here, at sea. ’Till help arrives.”
He looked at Alys with soft fear in his eyes. “It don’t take much wisdom to know we’re licked.” His big body took the wheel and turned the boat back towards shore at low throttle. He avoided looking at Alys.
The slow ride gave her plenty of time to rethink her choices. Her impulsive nature and obstinance were taking over again. Getting off the boat near the beach was probably a terrible idea, but she wanted to get back to her friends as soon as possible. She might be safe from the creatures out at sea, but she wouldn’t be accomplishing anything either. And deep down, she just couldn’t justify leaving her friends.
As they got closer, Dan lowered the throttle until the boat was barely audible over the sound of the waves, then cut it and turned the boat to the side. Alys didn’t remember the aliens having ears, but it was probably a prudent move, just in case. She had no idea what other abilities the invaders might have.
Captain Dan made a religious sign and mumbled “Good luck!” in his growling voice. He opened the cooler and shoved half a ham sandwich wrapped in plastifilm into her hands, not looking into her eyes.
“Thanks!” she whispered at his generosity, and ducked her head, nervous. He probably was going to need the food more urgently than she was. Alys shoved the sandwich into her bikini, looked up the sandy bank to the road, then lowered herself into the water. No sign of the aliens so far, but she needed to stay quiet.
A silent wave behind her, then the soft whirr of the electrics pushing the boat away from shore again. She hoped that Dan would find a way to survive, but she wasn’t that confident. For him or for any of them.
The hot pavement stung her feet. The surface had been roasting the entire morning, and the terror involved with her escape had put footwear completely out of her mind. She clasped a hand over her mouth as she danced off to the right side of the road, doing her best to forestall hysterical laughter. Trivial details now became so much more consequential when every decision could mean life or death.
She was feeling hungry now. It was probably close to lunch time. She unwrapped the dripping plastifilm and devoured the sad looking sandwich, a tang of mustard rolling around her mouth. It tasted a little off—she wondered how long the sandwich had been sitting in that cooler.
As she walked along the edge of the scrubland, she slowly approached the string of bungalows on her left. On her right was a stand of palm trees and other brush, planted by the resort to provide a privacy screen and separation from the rest of the resort. She thought about trying to check the other bungalows for survivors, but she wasn’t that far away from the beach and she didn’t want to attract undue attention.
Her attention was caught by a brief flash of bright, fluorescent fabric. She slowly looked around, trying to find what had caught her eye. There, in the vegetation a few steps from the front door of a bungalow, a few bodies were lying prone, almost invisible. Were they okay? Did they need assistance? Were they dead?
She scanned the area in haste—no evident alien activity yet. She rolled the remaining plastic wrap into a ball and dropped it. She felt a twinge of pain at littering, but ‘Keeping Strand Spotless’ was the least of her concerns now. Gathering her courage, she ran across the uneven road surface with as much speed as she could muster. She was rewarded with sharp jabs of pain from rubble on the road and hot searing pain from the asphalt.
There were three women in the undergrowth, probably college aged. It was difficult to tell, as besides their swimsuits, each tourist wore a black, crab-like alien on their heads. The black carapace of the aliens extended from the rear of each woman’s head down to their eyes. Each looked like they were sucking on a lollipop, the tail of an alien jammed down their throats. Sharp, black legs had grasped each head about the skull, preventing any struggling or removal. It was if they had all become turtles imprisoned inside their own gleaming black shells.
Organs extended from beneath the creature around the back of the head, ears, and eyes—jelly sacs containing some unknown fluid. The sacs had been squeezed out from under the hard bodies when the aliens had installed themselves on their heads. Each of the women’s throats looked distended, widened by the invader’s long tail. Alys could see a slight muscle contraction, visible first at the gelatinous sacs, then sliding slowly down their throats. Once every few seconds, another pulse. It was feeding them something, some sort of alien juice. Maybe it was some form of soporific, as the three appeared entirely comatose.
They had probably tried to make a break for it, but the aliens had set an ambush. It wouldn’t have been difficult to wait right outside the door and nab them—but that would indicate some sort of higher intelligence driving the invasion. She could see that they were still breathing, but she wasn’t sure how, given the obstruction in their throats. The alien must have some sort of airway bypass, or maybe it had taken over their respiratory systems too.
Their toned bodies and athletic abilities hadn’t helped them to escape. What chance did she have by herself? She briefly considered entering the bungalow to see if there was anything usable inside, but her attention was drawn back due to motion on the road.
There was a large, ugly, black creature perambulating down the road in her direction, still a long distance away. Making a quick decision, she lowered her head and crossed the road, heading for the forest on the other side. If she had ducked inside the bungalow, there might have been another alien ambush waiting for her. She also didn’t want to be trapped inside while alien patrols were searching the perimeter.
Hiding behind a palm tree, her feet felt like raw hamburger. She watched as the alien creature walked down the road to the end past the infested victims, then turned and moved out towards the beach, its spindly legs throwing puffs of sand.
Letting out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, Alys started moving up the road with mincing steps. The movement of the crawler almost seemed like a patrol looking for stragglers. Her estimation of the intelligence level of the aliens was rising, a disturbing thought to contend with.
She made her way from tree to tree, being careful to keep a good distance between her and the road in case the alien decided to make another pass. It only took a few minutes to reach a spot across from the bungalow with an embossed nameplate that read ‘A5.’ She hoped her friends were still inside, and that they hadn’t had an unfortunate encounter with the crab aliens. Everything was quiet, nothing strange except for a large dent in the front door.
She was summoning her courage to make a dash for the door when another large bug clambered around the side of the bungalow. Even at this distance she could hear a hissing noise, as if a valve was letting off some steam. Now there was slight movement in the undergrowth, a small glint rebounding off polished carapace. Two more crawlers hiding in the brush near the door. Were they communicating?
She held her breath, not certain how well they could hear, or even if they could hear at all. The hissing continued for a few more moments, then the large crawler moved back around the side of the bungalow and descended down towards the beach, creating great divots in the sand.
Time to reevaluate her plans. She had no way of sneaking past or defending herself from the crawlers, so she couldn’t break in to get to her friends. She was still wearing her joke bikini and her feet felt like raw meat. She needed clothing, food, and weaponry or she wouldn’t survive the night, much less be able to rescue anybody.
She smiled bitterly. There was Sophie’s logic talking again. Impulsiveness wouldn’t help her here. She needed a new plan.
Wasn’t there a store on the road between Shark’s Cove and the resort? One of those small convenience stores that seemed to be everywhere in a beach tourist trap. They sold suntan lotion and overpriced candy and everything in between.
She shrugged in her mind. Not a great option, but it sounded better than trying to get past a bunch of alien crawlers and getting her stomach pumped full of alien juice.
She was already getting thirsty and the ham sandwich wasn’t sitting well in her stomach. She had lost track of time, but it must be still around lunchtime. It had felt like she’d spent days avoiding aliens, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour or two.
She moved further down the road, sticking to cover. Were Sophie and Nora still okay? The only aliens she had seen had been outside, but that meant little. How long could they hold out in a siege? It was even more important that she made it to the store to find something to help them with.
She timed her movement through the woods with every patrol the big soldier bug made. She counted up to ten encounters before she reached a t-junction in the road, a smooth expanse leading off in both directions. This road was better maintained, as it was more heavily traveled, being the main route from the resort to the cove’s parking lot.
She continued shadowing the road, still protective of her feet and cautious of any more alien activity. Minutes passed and she saw nothing on the new road, just waving palm trees and the sounds of tropical birds. If she hadn’t just seen horrors at the beach she could have imagined that everyone had gone to get some food.
It was a silly thought, but her mental state was not the best after running for her life and hiding from alien monsters that wanted to jam tentacles down her throat. Sweat ran down her body, evaporating in the warm breeze.
There was a parking lot up ahead and a large building. Random cars dotted the lot, but otherwise there was no sign of human activity. A large colorful sign declared ‘Stranded?’ In smaller letters underneath a stylized font stated ‘All your needs under one roof!’
The jaunty look of the building seemed out of place in the deserted environs. The ghost town vibes she was getting were ominous, but her bigger problem was trying to get across the parking lot to the doors without burning her feet to a cinder. She noticed that the designers had elected to use planter boxes in a row down the center of the sidewalk leading up to the store, which was a stroke of luck. She hopped from one to the next, trading hot feet for dirty feet. It almost made her want to be back swimming in the ocean.
The lights were off in the store, and the front sliding glass doors were stuck halfway open. Was there somebody in the store still? Or more aliens?
Deciding not to call out just in case the crab aliens were about, she slipped into the darkened interior. It was a compact store, the shelves close together jammed full of souvenirs, dry goods, clothing, and care products. A faint moan drew her attention to the checkout counter.
Frightened curiosity drew her steps closer, though she had a good idea of what she would find. Her fears were confirmed when she leaned over the counter, coming face to face with a native woman. She was wearing a purple t-shirt with a logo that said ‘I ♥ Strand.’ It was something of a uniform for resort employees. Her svelte, cream-colored body was topped with a shiny black crawler.
The woman’s body squirmed, but made no noise. The crawler’s tail was inserted firmly between her clenched lips. It slid in and out minuscule amounts as its host writhed on the floor. Around the corners of her mouth were small amounts of green spittle, possibly generated by the small alien that was firmly clenched to her head like a living helmet. Her face was—smiling?
Was she...enjoying being violated? What would it be like to swallow that tail, let it slip down past your gag reflex? Drink down the alien’s green goo and let yourself go comatose? She blinked, horrified. That was an awful thought, ick! But it was hard to look away: the image was compelling in a twisted way.
There was retching, followed by a slimy, squishy sound. The lady on the ground arched her back as the long, dark tail of the creature slowly extracted itself from her throat, a wet, mucosal stream dripping from translucent flesh onto her chin and chest. The tail waved freely in the air, green paste the consistency of runny guacamole dripping from the tip.
Stunned by the unexpected scene, Alys stared as the tail curved and pointed at her, the tip unfolding like flower petals. Frightened, she started to back away, but it was too late. A thin stream ejected from the tip under high pressure. The volume of spray was miniscule, but there was enough of the stuff to splatter her chest, some of it running down between her breasts.
She smelled something sweet, like honey, the sticky substance clinging to her skin like glue. Repulsed, she backed away from the counter, trying to scrape the goo off with her hands. It had the consistency of soft mud, coating everything it touched with a slimy green film.
She needed water and towels. Anything to get this nasty substance off her. There had to be some sanitizing wipes or paper towels in the store somewhere! She took one halting step, two. Her body was feeling funny, her legs not working properly. Why was everything going numb?
She fell to the floor in a heap, limbs uncoordinated. Her body wouldn’t cooperate. What was wrong with her? A creeping numbness had taken hold, her hands and legs paralyzed. She wanted to scream, to shout, to do anything, but she remained slumped on her side, helpless.
A long, sharp leg dropped to the floor in front of her eyes followed by another a few feet away. They flexed like gigantic tendons, thin, but strong. She could see raised black, spidery veins running over each sharp, tapered and bladed leg. She wanted to cry out in fear, but the voluntary motions wouldn’t come. A bright hissing filled her ears with white noise. Her eyelids drooped and closed, bringing blessed darkness.
The large crawler turned, considering its prey. With the flat back of one leg, it carefully levered her to one side, turning her body so that she lay on her back. From the jelly sacs hanging under its belly, a long tube started to flex, flesh colored with a black stripe. It rapidly expanded in girth as it extended, looming closer to Alys’ exposed body.
It felt around for a moment, like a dog sniffing out a treat. It paused above her swimsuit, as if uncertain what to make of the colored cloth panties. Moving forward, it touched her vagina, shoved aside the flimsy cloth with its flat tip, then slipped inside.
Alys made no motion at the intrusion, her consciousness suppressed entirely by the alien gel. The thick tube continued to grow as it lengthened inside her, expanding until it was as thick around as a baseball and entirely transparent.
A large, black orb slid down the length of the appendage, the shiny ovaloid dropping quickly with a gravity assist, which then got stuck at her hips. A small but continuous squeeze from the muscular extremity slowly spread her lips into a large ‘O’ shape as the object moved inside. As each egg reached her vagina, a squeezing contraction pushed the egg past the pelvic floor and through her birth canal into her uterus.
Another egg rolled down the ovipositor, peristaltic contractions working to move the eggs much like a digestive tract. The eggs stacked up in the appendage faster than they could be injected, the striped tube looking like the wooden pathways on a children’s marble run toy as it squirted each egg one by one into its victim.
As the eggs continued to be inserted, a gray liquid sloshed into the tube from the top, a slippery substance that lubricated the the inseminator. The last few eggs popped into Alys’ vagina faster than the first few, following by a long squirt of the gray liquid to cap off the newly laid clutch.
Its mission finished, the large crawler took a few steps aways from Alys, still asleep on the floor. Gray liquid leaked onto the floor from the protuberance as it retracted, tracing random lines of spunk on the tiled floor. The tube abruptly shrank back into the alien being and it withdrew, a soft churring sound breaking the silent air of the blacked out store.