CATTLE MUTILATORS
PT. 3
"PULL OFF THE ROAD!" half the Agents screamed.
"STAY ON THE ROAD!" the other half screamed.
"HIT THE BRAKES! the other half screamed.
"Little late --" Stephen yelled back as the white lights from the UFO flooded the van.
A low WHIRIIRIRIRR whined from the van's dashboard as every electrical light and circuit burbled in the grasp of a mysterious EM Field. A subsonic RUMBLE tickled the back of everyone's neck, some low thudding vibration --
-- and with that the two MiB cars EXPLODED.
Andy and Ross instinctively shielded their eyes as the two cars fireballed, metal sheeting and flaming engine parts corscrewing through the air.
The UFO banked back around. For one long, awful moment, it looked as if the Agents were next. But then, the lights FLASHED, arced skyward and disappeared among the stars.
At the speed they were going, the van was a good half-mile from the burning wreckage by the time it came to a stop. The Agents piled out. Behind them, a low orange glow on the highway was all that remained of the incident.
That and the frothing zombie toddler.
Denis slumped against the side of the van. "Now I know why you guys have the reputation you do."
Ross shrugged. "Hey, we sometimes -- wait. What reputation?"
The feral SNARLING of the child echoed out from his perch on the van floor. "What do we do about ... that?" Stephen asked.
"Why don't you check it again, considering you said it was fine just before it started gnawing on my f*#@ing neck!" Jo glared at Stephen as she pulled a sweatshirt on.
"He was fine," Stephen objected. "Pulse, eye dilation ..."
Andy nodded to the others. "Get the duct tape out of my bag."
"You have duct tape?"
"I always have duct tape." Andy snapped open his cell phone. In an instant he was on a scrambled line with MacGruder, the Hoffman Institute's "Crisis Manager."
As always, MacGruder was incredibly annoyed at the call. "I thought we went through this with the Desmond case, you only call when you have a real emergency."
"Can you guys pick something up?"
"Is it worth our while?"
Andy looked over at the thrashing zombie toddler, now thoroughly wrapped in several feet of duct tape. "Hoo yeah."
The Hoffman Institute agreed to send a Hazmat team to pick up their "discovery." They'd meet at the hotel in Fairview where the group was scheduled to stay.
(DM's NOTE: At this point I spit out my soda and asked, "You're going to drive into a small southwestern town with a shot-up van and a duct-taped three year old?" The players looked at each other and nodded. At at this point, we were so, SO far off where I'd planned this night to go ...)
The Agents pulled into the little motel just fifteen minutes later. They smuggled "Zombie Timmy" as he was dubbed into the room and dumped him in the tub. In doing so they noticed that he was now incredibly fevered. Jo and Ross raided the ice machine in the parking lot. Soon, the zombie toddler was almost totally submerged in ice, only his eyes above the surface. Those eyes darted back and forth, back and forth ceaselessly. He watched the Agents every move. Waiting to feed again.
In two hours a van showed up. The Agents were looking forward to rattling some cages, but when the two orange-suited drivers saw the toddler they looked at each other and immediately withdrew from the van several wire loops and metal slats. The slats became a sealed refrigerated box. Using the loops, they lowered the zombie toddler into the containment vessel, then locked it off. No more than fifteen minutes passed, and the HazMat team was back on the road with their grim cargo.
Exhausted, the Agents fell asleep wherever they could, on the floor, the beds, in chairs - except for Jo. She paced for a while, constantly rechecked the van, the door, the windows ... she kept checking the dressing where the kid had bitten her. Was it infected? Was it swelling? Was she about to become ... one of those?
Finally, she took two of the pills the nice people at the Hoffman Institute had given her, downed them with a hit from her flask. In moments she fell into deep, dreamless slumber.
And at that moment everyone else in the room took their hands off their guns and fell asleep too.
PT. 3
"PULL OFF THE ROAD!" half the Agents screamed.
"STAY ON THE ROAD!" the other half screamed.
"HIT THE BRAKES! the other half screamed.
"Little late --" Stephen yelled back as the white lights from the UFO flooded the van.
A low WHIRIIRIRIRR whined from the van's dashboard as every electrical light and circuit burbled in the grasp of a mysterious EM Field. A subsonic RUMBLE tickled the back of everyone's neck, some low thudding vibration --
-- and with that the two MiB cars EXPLODED.
Andy and Ross instinctively shielded their eyes as the two cars fireballed, metal sheeting and flaming engine parts corscrewing through the air.
The UFO banked back around. For one long, awful moment, it looked as if the Agents were next. But then, the lights FLASHED, arced skyward and disappeared among the stars.
At the speed they were going, the van was a good half-mile from the burning wreckage by the time it came to a stop. The Agents piled out. Behind them, a low orange glow on the highway was all that remained of the incident.
That and the frothing zombie toddler.
Denis slumped against the side of the van. "Now I know why you guys have the reputation you do."
Ross shrugged. "Hey, we sometimes -- wait. What reputation?"
The feral SNARLING of the child echoed out from his perch on the van floor. "What do we do about ... that?" Stephen asked.
"Why don't you check it again, considering you said it was fine just before it started gnawing on my f*#@ing neck!" Jo glared at Stephen as she pulled a sweatshirt on.
"He was fine," Stephen objected. "Pulse, eye dilation ..."
Andy nodded to the others. "Get the duct tape out of my bag."
"You have duct tape?"
"I always have duct tape." Andy snapped open his cell phone. In an instant he was on a scrambled line with MacGruder, the Hoffman Institute's "Crisis Manager."
As always, MacGruder was incredibly annoyed at the call. "I thought we went through this with the Desmond case, you only call when you have a real emergency."
"Can you guys pick something up?"
"Is it worth our while?"
Andy looked over at the thrashing zombie toddler, now thoroughly wrapped in several feet of duct tape. "Hoo yeah."
The Hoffman Institute agreed to send a Hazmat team to pick up their "discovery." They'd meet at the hotel in Fairview where the group was scheduled to stay.
(DM's NOTE: At this point I spit out my soda and asked, "You're going to drive into a small southwestern town with a shot-up van and a duct-taped three year old?" The players looked at each other and nodded. At at this point, we were so, SO far off where I'd planned this night to go ...)
The Agents pulled into the little motel just fifteen minutes later. They smuggled "Zombie Timmy" as he was dubbed into the room and dumped him in the tub. In doing so they noticed that he was now incredibly fevered. Jo and Ross raided the ice machine in the parking lot. Soon, the zombie toddler was almost totally submerged in ice, only his eyes above the surface. Those eyes darted back and forth, back and forth ceaselessly. He watched the Agents every move. Waiting to feed again.
In two hours a van showed up. The Agents were looking forward to rattling some cages, but when the two orange-suited drivers saw the toddler they looked at each other and immediately withdrew from the van several wire loops and metal slats. The slats became a sealed refrigerated box. Using the loops, they lowered the zombie toddler into the containment vessel, then locked it off. No more than fifteen minutes passed, and the HazMat team was back on the road with their grim cargo.
Exhausted, the Agents fell asleep wherever they could, on the floor, the beds, in chairs - except for Jo. She paced for a while, constantly rechecked the van, the door, the windows ... she kept checking the dressing where the kid had bitten her. Was it infected? Was it swelling? Was she about to become ... one of those?
Finally, she took two of the pills the nice people at the Hoffman Institute had given her, downed them with a hit from her flask. In moments she fell into deep, dreamless slumber.
And at that moment everyone else in the room took their hands off their guns and fell asleep too.
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