Reason fought with instinct as Sayid neared the downed aircraft. Its wings had been torn off, yet it had flown, however briefly.
Sayid slowed to a walk about fifty feet behind Mars, who ran up to the jet. Despite the dim light he realized what had bothered him about the aircraft: it *had* no wings. The plane was relatively undamaged despite the crash landing. It shouldn't be able to fly in Earth's atmosphere. Then again, a British police box shouldn't be the size of a small mansion on the inside.
The cockpit opened. Moonlight lit pale skin and paler hair. Mars spoke. Light flashed, and the albino pilot lept on to the marshal's crumpled body. It buried its fingers in the marshal's chest. Mars shrieked in agony.
Sayid didn't remember halting, but was glad that he had. He raised his gun, surprised at the steadiness of his hands, and trained it on the creature's head. "O Allah, protect us," he murmured and pulled the trigger.
Allah guided the bullet true. Darkness spilled from the hole in the beast's head. It fell back with a hiss. When it didn't move, Sayid sprinted to the marshal's side. And screamed.
Mars was an old man. Impossibly old.
"Goddammit," the marshal croaked. He froze, horrified by the sound of his own voice. He slowly, painfully raised one bony hand in front of his face. Somehow the man managed to pale even more. "No..."
The creature hissed. Sayid barely noticed its serrated teeth and nearly featureless face as it clambered to its feet. On instinct he trained the gun on the thing's bloodied head and fired until the clip was empty.
[Sayid] This isn't happening.
Sayid slowed to a walk about fifty feet behind Mars, who ran up to the jet. Despite the dim light he realized what had bothered him about the aircraft: it *had* no wings. The plane was relatively undamaged despite the crash landing. It shouldn't be able to fly in Earth's atmosphere. Then again, a British police box shouldn't be the size of a small mansion on the inside.
The cockpit opened. Moonlight lit pale skin and paler hair. Mars spoke. Light flashed, and the albino pilot lept on to the marshal's crumpled body. It buried its fingers in the marshal's chest. Mars shrieked in agony.
Sayid didn't remember halting, but was glad that he had. He raised his gun, surprised at the steadiness of his hands, and trained it on the creature's head. "O Allah, protect us," he murmured and pulled the trigger.
Allah guided the bullet true. Darkness spilled from the hole in the beast's head. It fell back with a hiss. When it didn't move, Sayid sprinted to the marshal's side. And screamed.
Mars was an old man. Impossibly old.
"Goddammit," the marshal croaked. He froze, horrified by the sound of his own voice. He slowly, painfully raised one bony hand in front of his face. Somehow the man managed to pale even more. "No..."
The creature hissed. Sayid barely noticed its serrated teeth and nearly featureless face as it clambered to its feet. On instinct he trained the gun on the thing's bloodied head and fired until the clip was empty.