The Pick Up

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The Pick Up Darkness. All encompassing darkness. The moon is absent and not one star stains the sky. It's the night a late model Ford Fiesta refuses to continue its journey to the safety of it's home. It's the night that the little car's life passes from this realm to automobile heaven on a long, dark stretch of desolate road. The driver curses violently as the lifeless automobile coasts to its final resting place onto what he hopes are the shoulder of the road. It's difficult for him to tell in the absolute pitch darkness. Hesitantly, he turns the ignition, praying that the engine had merely stalled. His hopes are shattered, as there is no response from under the hood. He tries the key again with more urgency, and yet still no signs of life. "It's dead Jim." He mutters to himself. The driver, Derek Clancy, hits the steering wheel one final time in disgust. Derek, a former high school football star, lets out a string of curses before exiting his four-wheeled prison. "That's the last time I volunteer for anything." He growls remembering his offer to fill in for a co-worker whose wife was very pregnant at an out of town branch of the video rental chain that Derek is employed by. "Midnight in the middle of freaking nowhere..." kicking the Fiesta as he surveys his surroundings, running a hand through his sandy brown hair. Leafless trees cast deeper shadows against the starless night sky. The twisted branches stab madly in all directions as if to flee some unseen terror lurking within the mist. An eerie silence hangs about the area, except for a few metallic pings from the cooling engine of the non-functional Fiesta. "A perfect bac... ... middle of paper ... pain lanced through his body. Whom these shape shifters who have been infiltrating Earth's population, watching, waiting, had already replaced. How many people in places of power? Maybe one of them is the president, which sure would explain a lot. Maybe the tabloids may have been right all along, but Derek will never know. Nobody knows yet, but maybe someone will find out and stop them. And how would the people of Earth battle such a powerful threat? But now as their aliens razor sharp teeth inch towards him, the stench of death wafting into his nostrils, only one thing is certain in Derek's mind. "I hope that shape changing twin of me doesn't hit the damn lottery. I hope that alien is stuck in that stinking minimum wage job for a long, long time..." Derek screams as the beasts tear mercilessly into his flesh.

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