Close Encounters of the Worst King

They live among us now

The Driver's fingers were clenching the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. The tingling buzzed through his digits until it finally registered in his distracted mind. He shook out one hand, then the other, his eyes never leaving the sidewalks -- in constant surveillance of the shadowed figures that walked without care under the tree lined streets so late at night, oblivious to the dangers that were certainly real, certainly inevitable...

50th Avenue, the street sign read. His brow furrowed. Didn't he just leave 82nd? The Zone. He never did compute time and space as well when he was in The Zone. It didn't matter. Something always got him where he needed to be, when he needed to be there. And once he had what he needed, he had all the time in the world. Oh yes, all the time he could ever want.

He raked his thick fingers through his shaggy hair, catching sight of a couple as they walked to his right. Happy - for once - that the light had turned red, he slowed to it and leaned back in his seat, his eyes watching them from the darkness of his car interior. His blood began to heat rapidly and he cursed at the jolt of it.

It had been weeks now; weeks of solitude, weeks of letting things die down. And when he thought about it, it was a respite from what was now becoming routine, and frankly... boring. Humans were so predictable, so trusting. His kind had been here nearly half a century now and were still being treated like rock stars. If they only knew. He shook his head, blowing out a long breath and hit the gas as the light turned green.

At the next corner he made a right, and another a block down, then came up a street behind the 'happy couple.' "Show time," he muttered and pushed his magica to full capacity, instantly blowing out the front right tire of the car he borrowed from some random, abandoned parking lot, and amusingly setting off its car alarm. Overkill, he mused, but effective.

He careened into the curb. The sound of the exploding tire and his car skidding into the pavement, unsurprisingly, caught the attention of the couple who dashed over, aghast. They quickly went all 'puppy dog' when they caught sight of him. He looked around. Empty street. Good. He got out of the car.

"Oh my god, man, are you all right?" the male asked. The female was a cartoon caricature of confusion, admiration, and -- gods, he could smell it -- arousal. When the male turned his gaze to survey the flaps of ruined rubber, The Driver looked at the female and winked at her flirtatiously, and even in the darkness, her skin burned like a red Christmas light.

With a smug snicker, The Driver turned to the male, "I'm fine, I have a spare and a jack, somewhere..." As if scripted and on cue, same as the all the others, 'scene 1: take fuck-knows-what-number by now,' the male joined him in the search and the female clung close by.

They were in his trunk in under two minutes.