You blink, trying to clear the spots you see from the bright light. Your eyes adjust enough to see your tormentors blinking as well.
"Dammit Davidson!" the pig grunts. "You're supposed to wait until we put on our goggles, you fool!"
"Sorry, Sarge," the tiger muttered, its pupils still contracted as it blinked madly.
Seeing your opportunity, you barrel into the woods, crashing wildly through the underbrush. You have a relative idea of how to get out of the park, and hope you are heading in the correct direction, although you can barely see anything in the darkness. Although you are making a racket, you do not dare slow down.
"Hey! Where the blazes are you going?!" the pig calls after you. "Davidson, grab 'em! Burlingame! Burlingame!" the pig barks orders back towards the ship while the tiger takes off in your direction. You don't bother looking back as you stumble over and around various tree limbs and rocks, although you can hear something, probably Davidson, gaining on you. Panting heavily, just as you decide you are hopelessly lost, you run headling into a stone wall. The exit! you think frantically.
Desperately feeling your way down the wall, you come to an opening just as you hear a thump hitting the wall a few yards behind you. Yanking yourself through, you hurl yourself across the dark four-lane street and into the bushes and overgrown grass on the other side.
"Look, it's not that bad!" Davidson calls out to you as he starts walking across the street. "Really, you'll enjoy it if you give it a chance." You're pretty sure he can see you by now, considering the night vision tigers have, or at least smell you. You hunker down and make yourself as small as possible. "Let's just head back to the ship and Sarge'll..."
SCREEEEEEEEECH!!! The sound of tires squealing madly cuts Davidson off, followed by the loud bang of a pickup truck hitting Davidson square on, tossing him a good twenty feet. Stunned as you are, you use the opportunity to move further back from the road and hide behind a stand of trees just as the pig burst out of the park.
"Davidson! Still alive over there?" Upon hearing a dazed grunt from Davidson, the pig looks up to see the ship now hovering over the street. As he scans the surroundings for you, you hold your breath, afraid that the slightest movement will give you away.
"Great," Sarge scowls, scratching his head. "How the hell am I supposed to explain this?" Seeing Davidson woozily getting to his feet, Sarge turns. "Davidson, grab that one," he orders, indicating the unconscious driver of the pickup, a young woman. After giving the surrounding area another examination, he continues, "We'll just have to come back, if we're gonna make our arrival time, we're gonna have to haul ass. We can track him down later."
Still hiding, you watch as Davidson yanks the woman out of the pickup and, carrying her under his arm, joins Sarge as they head up the stairway into the ship. You feel kind of bad for the woman, but hey, better her than you. Counting yourself lucky as the ship takes off, you run for home with all your might.
You open your bleary eyes the next morning. Petrified by your encounter, you spent the entire night sitting on your sofa watching the door, a baseball bat within reach, until you finally dropped off in the wee hours. You yawn and stretch, trying to convince yourself it was all just a bad dream. There's no way you got chased around a park by animal-looking aliens, right?
Feeling grungy in your clothes from yesterday, you flip on the radio and head into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, you begin stripping off your clothes as the news report comes on.
"...is still missing. Her pickup was found on State Road 3, and there were indications it had been in an accident, but no one was found at the scene. If you have any information, please call..."
You freeze while pulling your shirt over your head. It can't be, right? But you were on State Road 3, and she was driving a pickup... You shake your head and remove your shirt. That's when you notice it: something unusual in the middle of your chest. You are positive there was nothing there yesterday...is it a rash? An allergic reaction? You reach up to touch it and, in disbelief, come to a stunning conclusion.