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Lena’s breath was warm against me, our lips very close as I fumbled with my left hand to find her right wrist, bringing that hand up to my right hand. Her last moaning word told me she was over the edge and I dug my thumb into her throat with all my new-found strength, indenting the front of her neck as her windpipe collapsed. She began coughing between sentences and then between words, her lack of struggle a contrast to the desperation, even madness she was feeling now. The skin over the lump that had been her navel seemed to tear slowly, raw and red though not bleeding, parting to reveal a thick glob of glowing slime that I recognized as what I had swallowed to start my own alien infection.
