Dago looked up at the sky. “Does that look normal to you? Or are there more ships up there than there was earlier?”

Straight shielded his eyes from the sun and looked up at the ships. What once had been faint black silhouettes were now getting bigger, taking on more definition and color. “I’m not sure there are more. I just think they are getting closer.”

Dago concentrated on the ships. Straight was right. They were getting closer, noticeably so. It was as if they had all been chilling in the sky and then decided to come down at the same time. Dago had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Those don’t look like our ships.

Straight was also getting that same feeling. “Do those ships look pink to you?” Nervousness set in as Dago looked around. Everyone on the beach was stopping what they were doing and now looking up at the descending ships. “I think we need to get out of here,” Straight said.

Dago looked over his shoulder. There were more ships inland. He watched in horror as they moved back and forth, canvasing the sky in a grid pattern. “Okay, but where the fuck are we going to go?”

“I say we grab a cab and hop on the first ride off this rock.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They headed toward the resort parking lot, leaving the beach goers gawking up toward the sky. As Straight had hoped, there were a couple cabs just waiting for tourists who needed a ride. They hopped into the first one they came to. The driver was peering up through the windshield at the encroaching ships.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“We need to get,” was all that Straight could get out.

The driver peered into his rearview mirror at his new occupants. “Holy, shit. Hospital it is.”

“No. We need to get to the,” Straight tried again.

Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll be there in no time.

“Spaceport!” Straight shouted.

“What?” the cabbie asked.

“Spaceport. We need to get to the Bellair spaceport,” Straight finally said.

The cabbie paused.

“No. You’re in shock. You need to get to the hospital,” the cabbie said very slowly. “You have been severely burned and need medical attention.”

Straight and Dago looked at each other. Straight was confused, but Dago having the same view as the cab driver caught on.

Dago looked at the driver placard with a picture of the driver and the name S. Holmes, and wondered if the driver’s parents could really be that cruel? “He’s fine,” Dago told the driver.

“He is most definitely not fine,” the driver replied.

“He’s a negroling, negrotian?” Dago said.

“Negronian,” Straight rolled his eyes.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you guys ever left your planet.”

“We try not too,” Straight said with a hint of malice.

“Well, shit man. It’s an honor to have you in my cab.”

“Thanks, but we really need to.”

“Hold on let me just take a quick picture.” The man fumbled around on his passenger seat, then gave up his quest. “What am I saying? It’s all being recorded. Okay, so where are we going, hospital?”

“Spaceport,” corrected Straight.

“Oh, that’s right. Not burnt, just…” The cabbie gave a little nod and thumbs up into the rearview mirror. “Got it.”

As the cabbie took off, Dago and Straight settled into their seats.

The drive took forever, which was weird because the resort wasn’t that far from the space port. And he didn’t think they should need to get off the freeway even if there were a ton of assholes clogging up the passing lane for no other reason than to slow down traffic. Seriously, there were more people driving in the passing lane than in the right lane. Get the fuck over, people.