Time to take stock.

Rubbing your temple you shuffle into your room and flop down onto your bed.

This is too much.

Something's definitely going on - well, you knew that. But your sister's been home all day. She wouldn't have had time to get from the crash here before you, in order to..... in order to be like that. The worry that's been gnawing at you ever since you saw that dim second dust cloud on the horizon fills you again, and the question you did your best to ignore before rises in your brain.

What if that wasn't the only crash?

There's one way to find out, at least. Sitting up in bed, you grab the remote from your beside table and flick a button at the TV mounted to your wall. As it bursts to life, you hit the buttons for a local news channel.

".... pandas as a goodwill gift. I know it's one we'll appreciate. Back to you in the studio, John."

You watch for several minutes. Some kind of comet crashing down in the streets like this would be headline news nationally, but none of the anchors even mention it. You flip through a few more channels; nothing. Good-feeling stories, embezzlement, arrests. The usual.

It's only after about five channels of the same thing that you notice it. You'd thought it was just a glitch in the screen, but with horror you realise that the faint purple glow on screen isn't a video error. You switch back through the other stations; all the same. Each anchor on air has the same glow, the lightest purple hue, to their eyes. Nothing noticeable unless you'd been looking for it. Or knew what it meant.

Desperately you flick through channel after channel, looking for something, anything, some news that doesn't have the same -

There!

You flick back to the image you'd just seen, a female anchorwoman at her desk looking up in puzzled surprise at a man's body looming into frame. By the time the image comes back on screen, however, it's all over. The man moves rapidly off-shot; and the anchor, a comfortable smile on her face, starts talking about a new political bill. You begin to think you might've imagined it, but then you notice the graphic in the upper-left corner.

• METEORITE TERROR -

You stare at it, until it eventually vanishes, replaced by something more appropriate to the story being told.

It's being covered up, you tell yourself. Whatever's happening, they're hiding it, keeping it secret.

The questions you've had bouncing around your head are replaced some far more terrifying ones. This isn't an accident. This was intentional.

So who are they? And what... what are their plans?

"Taylor!" You jump; you'd been focusing so hard you hadn't heard your sister come back, but her voice sounds like she's right outside the door. "Mom's home!" You can just picture your sister's body, large tits pressed against the door as she yells for you, her panties the only barrier keeping hands from drifting down there, only now it's your hand sliding down her back, your fingers pressing at her-

Whoa.

Where did that come from?

You gulp, guiltily, and ponder your options. It might not be as safe as you thought it would be here.