Felix brought up Anya’s map centered on Brooklyn, then pointed at a large red circle that surrounded Prospect Park. “The enemy alien is somewhere in there! I’m not able to pinpoint its precise location, but the menu is picking up some kind of signal in that circle.”

“Can it pinpoint us?” Anya asked.

“I’m not certain,” Felix replied and shrugged. “I would guess it probably can though, if we’re pinging it.”

“Okay, turn our broadcast signal or whatever it is off,” Anya said.

“Sorry Shelly, new change of plans,” Carl said. “Can you take us to Prospect Park?”

“Of course, sir,” Shelly replied and swung the Rolls Royce around a corner and drove towards Brooklyn.

“What do you think it’ll look like? The alien, I mean,” Carl said.

“Not sure. Not even sure it’s an alien. It might just be another type of menu system that latched onto somebody,” Anya replied.

“Another human? Do we still have to kill them then?”

“I don’t care what we ‘have’ to do, I’m not killing another human being. If it’s some freaky alien thing, then yeah, probably. But if it’s just a person like us that got hit with another menu out of nowhere, then no, I’m not going to hurt them.”

Anya paused and looked up from her menu at Carl.

“And you aren’t either,” she said.

“I definitely do not want to kill any people,” Carl said and put his hands up. “Even if they gave me a million RAC. Not worth it.”

Anya nodded, relieved. “Glad to hear it.”

Anya’s phone buzzed and she saw Tori had texted her.

TORI: Hey! Any updates? You ok?

ANYA: I’m ok, but you need to get inside and stay there. Aliens on Earth now, came a year early. Problem w/ menu. Trying to get the cops on it.

TORI: holy shit you serious

ANYA: Busy now but yes. I’m ok. Talk later. Stay inside.

Anya put her phone away. She wanted nothing more than to talk to her friend, but she needed to avoid distractions. She saw something shiny and sleek appear in the air in front of Carl as he clicked on his RAC store menu.

“Check it out! I got a pretty neat gun. Should come in handy,” Carl said. He held up a chrome pistol with glowing yellow lines along the side. Carl flicked a switch on the side of the weapon and it hummed. Anya instantly felt a tremendous source of heat in the handle of the gun and raised her eyebrows.

“What kinda Men in Black shit is that?” she asked.

“Plasma pistol,” Carl said. “I put my last few points into the plasma armaments skill and had juuuust enough RAC to buy this baby. The core superheats tiny shards of tungsten from the clip and fires them out. The core should last a year, and the menu said the tungsten clip has about a thousand shots worth so I’m good for ammo. You got anything besides your fire magic?”

Anya explained her pole arm and regeneration and battle tactics choices. Carl nodded and looked impressed.

“You got a spear or something yet?” he asked.

“Wasn’t sure if it would fit inside your car. I’ll get one once we’re in the park,” Anya replied. “And just so we’re clear, I’m not planning on fighting. This is just to make sure that I can take care of myself enough to get away and regroup.”

“Cool,” Carl said as he ran a hand through his shampoo-commercial-quality hair. “That’s my plan too.”

“We’re here,” Anya said as the Rolls pulled to a stop along Flatbush Avenue. The alien was somewhere in the large circle that encompassed everything on Anya’s map from that entrance almost to the dog beach. They could be searching for a while, but Anya doubted it. The thing was supposed to be hunting them as well.

Anya stepped out of the Rolls and onto the sidewalk. The Flatbush entrance to Prospect Park was a wide open square of patched asphalt and broken concrete tiles that surrendered to the winter-ravaged skeletons of trees beyond. In the spring and summer, it was a lush spread of emerald, in fall, it was a riot of botanical flames, red and yellow and orange that burned themselves out over the slow autumn months.

But in winter, and especially this late at night, the trees resembled nothing but bony fingers clutching at the dark shroud of the overcast sky. The meager light of lamps within the park only served to further outline the macabre display.

Prospect Park didn’t have quite as rough a reputation as Central Park at night, but still, Anya wouldn’t have dared to go there before her change, even with somebody else. Even with her new height, strength, and powers, the park still gave her an uneasy feeling beyond the fact that there was an alien somewhere in there. It was a place that was supposed to be full of people walking dogs, taking pictures, playing baseball, hiking along the pathways, and making it a bustling hub of activity.

But it was still.

And it was silent.

And something was in there.

“Fuck,” Anya said, and the word left her mouth in a huff of steam.

“What’s that?” Carl asked as he stepped out after muttering something to Shelly the android.

“Nothing,” Anya replied. “Just wanna get this over with. Felix?” the AI had disappeared from view as soon as she left the Rolls, but he responded within her ear right away.

“How can I help?”

“Let me know if anything changes. If there’s any signal of the alien on the menu or anything else related to it. Okay?”

“You got it!”

Anya brought up her menu and scanned the pole arms available, now that she was out of the car. Too many options, too many choices. She just picked a basic metal-hafted spear. It was only 250 RAC, so she kept her free token. It appeared in the air beside her and she caught it before it clanged to the ground. It was almost as tall as she was, and its sharp tip gleamed under the streetlights.

“Ready?” she asked Carl. He nodded and they both strode into the park. He had his hand up, near his side holster, but hadn’t withdrawn the plasma pistol yet. Anya felt the heat of its core next to Carl’s chest, inches away from his own heart.

“Hang on,” Anya said. “I’m gonna try to sense the alien thing now that we might be close enough.”

“With your menu?” Carl asked. Anya shook her head.

“No. Heat sense. It’s a flame dominion thing. Gimme a sec.” Anya didn’t need to close her eyes to use her heat sense, but she found it helped her focus. The points she put into her Awareness stat must have helped her with that as well, because she found it much easier to differentiate and pinpoint areas of heat, even small ones. She reached out and felt…

Birds in a tree nearby, and hundreds more farther away, fading as the range of her sense tapered out. They were all tiny candles in the cold darkness, bright but flickering and fragile.

A small animal——a squirrel?——inside a knothole, its light stable but dim.

A collection of signatures great and small all close together. That would be the Prospect Park Zoo.

The hundreds of human heat sources at her back, scattered throughout the buildings along Flatbush Avenue and beyond.

But there were no people in the park within her range.

And nothing that she would consider “alien,” at all.

“I don’t——” Anya started to say and then stopped. A group of birds almost at the edge of her range shot up into the sky like cinders flaring up from a furnace. Something had startled them, but there was nothing else nearby.

“What is it?” Carl asked.

“Maybe nothing, just wait,” Anya said.

Another flock of nesting birds took flight to the right of where the first flock had flown away. A moment later, a third group of birds also took wing, and to the right of the second group.

“Something is scaring the birds, and it’s moving in that direction, towards the Picnic House,” Anya said and pointed. She and Tori had stopped there a few times when they had taken a day to get out and wander around.

“So? Could be a stray cat,” Carl said.

“Whatever is scaring them is invisible to my heat sense, meaning it doesn’t give off heat.”

“Meaning that since it’s winter, it should be dead if it’s cold-blooded,” Carl said.

“Yeah,” Anya nodded. “Or something else that doesn’t give off heat.”

“Call the cops?” Carl said and took out his phone. Anya bit her lip. Phoning the cops and going back home was tempting. She didn’t know what to tell them, though. She didn’t have enough information to make sure they would find the alien. Besides, she still wasn’t certain it was an alien, based on what Felix had told her. It could be a person like her with alien tech in their body that they never asked for.

But then why doesn’t it have a heat signature? She thought. Maybe because they changed their body like you, or maybe because heat sense can’t pick them up for another reason.

“Not yet,” Anya said. “Once we see it. Or them. Or whatever.”

“Okay,” Carl shrugged. “But I’m outta here and calling them up if shit goes down.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Anya said as she walked past the entrance and into the park itself. She followed the path past the carousel. It was housed inside a squat brick building, its shutters closed to protect the ride from vandalism and weather. Anya was grateful, as she didn’t want to be confronted with a frozen stampede of shadowy horses. The park was creepy enough already.

She kept using her heat sense, just like her ears or her eyes, trying to stay aware of any changes in the animal life around the park as they passed the carousel. The trees became denser as they left the main pathway and stepped onto one of the smaller, branching trails that wound their way toward the Ravine and the Picnic House beyond. It was almost possible to forget she was in Brooklyn now, and not in some faraway forest. The trees, even absent their leaves, created a crooked cage of shadows that blotted out the light from the city and left her almost blind.

It would be easy enough to make a fire and illuminate the whole area…and give their position away at once. She hoped Carl wasn’t foolish enough to use his phone flashlight or anything else. He didn’t, and he was just as quiet as she was.

Anya sensed a few squirrels about thirty yards ahead of her, and watched as they both bolted up a tree and startled several birds. She froze and put a hand out to stop Carl. He froze behind her and pulled out his plasma pistol and his phone.

There was a whisper of dry leaves, the crunch of a snapping twig, and then a voice. It was a high, childish voice, full of sugary sweetness and innocence.

“I know my ABCs, do you?” the voice said.

Anya squinted at the voice, confusion replacing the growing surge of terror inside of her.

“What the hell?” Carl whispered behind her.

“Sharing is caring,” the voice said a minute later. It had moved farther away from them, towards the edge of the trees and a lamp post. Anya squinted and saw a squat, cartoonish figure walk into the circle of light with an awkward gait.

“Is that…a puppet?” Anya asked.

The thing that emerged into the light of the lamp post looked like it had stepped off the set of a children’s educational program. It was only about three feet tall, with long and wiggly limbs attached to a fat, ovoid torso that was topped with an oblong head that had tiny circular ears on either side. It was covered in shaggy purple fur and even though it faced away from Anya, she could see the edge of a bulbous felt yellow nose when it tilted its head to the side.

“I love you!” it said as it paced to one side and then the other.

“Is this a joke?” Carl asked. Anya used her heat sense and couldn’t detect anything from the walking, talking puppet. It was just as cold and lifeless as the rocks around it. It really did just look like a puppet had walked off some kids show for a late-night stroll through the park, muttering catch phrases to itself.

Then it turned to face them and Anya’s stomach clenched.

Its eyes were wrong.

Everything else about the puppet made it look like any other cuddly, educational mascot, except for the eyes on top of its head.

Those were real. They were glistening, wet, veined orbs that glared out with inhuman intensity and awareness. They had red irises and horizontal, goatish pupils. They scanned the dark trees and the park beyond as the puppet turned in a slow circle.

“Holy shit,” Carl breathed. “That is weird.”

“Shh,” Anya hissed. No question about it now. That was definitely the alien. “All right, I’m calling the cops. Tell them where it is, then I’m going back to the entrance to meet them.”

“What, why?” Carl whispered. “It’s a creepy puppet. No weapons, no claws, no nothing. I’ll shoot it and bam, level-up city.”

Anya glared at Carl. “You cannot be that dumb,” she said. “I don’t have any weapons either and I can summon fire. That thing could do the same, or worse.”

“I’m not dumb. My intelligence is probably higher than yours,” he said. Anya rolled her eyes as she took out her phone. Her hand froze over the number pad as she heard another branch snap and looked up.

The puppet alien was looking in their direction again, but it wasn’t just scanning the trees this time. It was glaring right at them.

“Shit,” Anya said. “It heard us.”

“No choice then,” Carl said and whipped out his pistol. Anya started to dial 911, but Carl fired off a shot before she could hit send. She winced at the noise, a hissing shriek of heat and what sounded like compressed air, followed by a metallic whining sound. A bolt of yellow light shot from the pistol and slammed into the fat torso of the puppet alien, right in its center mass.

The puppet fell back without a sound as the bolt of plasma energy left a charred hole through its gut and a smoking pit in the ground behind it. It twitched and Carl fired at it again two, three more times and left more smoking holes in the creature.

It didn’t move.

“Yeah!” Carl said and pumped his fist into the air. He twirled the pistol around his finger and blew smoke off the barrel but didn’t holster it. He took a step towards the fallen alien, Gun still trained on it.

“No way,” Anya said and squinted at the smoking ruin of the puppet. “That was it?”

“I guess,” Carl said and took another wary step toward the puppet. He was still about ten yards away from it, gun trained on its body.

“Don’t get any closer,” Anya said.

“Not planning on it,” Carl said. “Ivy? Did I get the reward for killing it?”

The green AI materialized beside Carl with an indifferent shrug. “I dunno,” it said. “Menu doesn’t have anything different.”

Carl shot the puppet again and one of its arms flew off. The puppet remained a smoking, motionless lump of shaggy purple felt.

“Well maybe we gotta burn it or something,” Carl said. “Good thing you——”

Carl smiled at Anya but he trailed off when he dropped his plasma pistol. Anya saw it fall and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Its chrome-plated surface glinted under the nearby lamp posts, and Anya sensed the heat within its power core. Something was attached to the grip of the pistol though, and it emitted its own source of rapidly fading heat.

“Huh?” Carl asked and looked down.

It was his hand.

Carl’s right hand still gripped the pistol, finger near the trigger. It had been lopped off clean and straight from his wrist. Anya stood in shock as she saw and sensed a gout of Carl’s hot blood gushed from the stump at the end of his right arm.

“What? What?” Carl asked and took a step back, two, tripped and fell back as he held his bleeding stump in front of him. Anya saw two white circles of bone amidst the red oval of exposed muscle and tissue and she almost vomited.

It’s not dead, she thought and shot her wide, terrified eyes to the prostrate form of the puppet alien.

It had changed. Its arm had returned along with two others from the hole in its chest. One of its chest arms was more visceral than the other two. It was still covered in purple felt, but now red, glistening sinew could be seen beneath it, along with barbs of white bone-like thorns on a gore-soaked vine.

“I’ll teach you how to count to ten,” the puppet said as it rose up. Its living eyes throbbed with malice as it glared at Carl, then at Anya.

“Fuck,” Carl said. “Anya, my hand, my hand, it, it-it-it-it——” Carl’s voice wavered as he stared at his stump and tried to scramble to his feet.

Grab him and run, call the cops, some distant, rational part of her mind said. It was a whisper in the middle of the panicked maelstrom of a thousand other thoughts.

Leave him.

Blast the thing.

Blast them both.

Shouldn’t have come here.

Gonna die.

Gonna die.

Gonna die.

Grab him and RUN! The rational whisper became a stern shout and Anya lunged toward Carl as he finally got his feet under him.

“An——” he said and then there was a blur of purple movement that turned his head into a smear and the air around him into a firework of blood, bone, and brain. One second and Carl was looking at her with naked animal panic, and the next, everything above his neck was gone, and the trees and ground around him were soaked. His blood looked like oil in the dark, but Anya could sense the heat of it before the winter night sapped it.

“Whoa,” Ivy said. “Bummer,” and then the green AI faded from existence.

Anya threw herself back, away from the horror of Carl’s headless body as it collapsed to the cold ground. One of the puppet alien’s hands was soaked in what remained of Carl’s head, and Anya saw a couple of his teeth stuck on the fluffy fingers. Its arm had stretched nearly ten yards, exposing more wet sinew and bone thorns beneath the felt. The arm retracted to its original size as the puppet alien drew the arm back, then turned to face her.

“Let’s be best friends,” it said and took a step forward.

The rational whisper, the chorus of adrenaline-fueled screams in her head, all agreed there was only one choice now. Anya leapt to her feet, and with all the new strength she had gained, she fled.