The Harvesters - Chapter Four: The Warehouse District

(An alien invasion story)

by Zapped!

   This next chapter was originally supposed to be the prolog for the upcoming “The Town Hall Incident.” I kept adding little pieces to it here and there, and it eventually became far too long for a mere intro! In my own mind, it shall remain a lead-in for the next chapter. You can consider it whatever you want it to be…

[You can read Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, and Chapter 3 here.]

 

Scoping out the warehouse district…

   It’s a dark and gloomy night in late April. A light drizzle has been falling throughout the evening, making the conditions outside quite miserable. Occasionally the moon breaks through the passing storm clouds, its soft light reflecting beautifully across the rain- soaked city streets.

   Despite the miserable weather, a small group of prostitutes still manage to work the warehouse district just outside of Topeka. They slowly pace up and down the sidewalk in their high heels and revealing clothing, with hopes of attracting the eye of a potential customer.

   A black Econoline van is parked at the curb, nearly half-a-block up the street. Other than its dark color and the lack of side windows, the vehicle is non-descript and remains virtually unnoticed. Seated inside are two security guards with dark sunglasses. The pair watches the hookers strut their stuff with growing interest...

   Before long, a silver Porsche slows to a stop just beside the women. A prostitute with long red hair approaches the vehicle’s curbside window. She leans down to speak with the driver for a moment, before climbing inside. The sports car breaks its rear tires loose and speeds away from the curb. A Lincoln Town Car refills the vacant spot at the curb, just a few minutes later.

   Once again, a hooker approaches the tinted windows of the black luxury car. She leans towards the lowering rear window and smiles, before negotiating a deal with the figure inside. At one point, she turns around and waves for a co-worker to join her. Before long, the pair step into the back, and the luxurious car drives off into the night.

   One of the men parked in the Ford van finally turns to the other and comments, “It looks like it’s now or never. What do you think, Bruce?”

   The man behind the wheel replies in a gravelly voice, “The black one might do. The peroxide blonde looks like a crack whore, so she’s probably useless.”

   That’s when the man named Vincent suggests, “Then let’s do this, before somebody else comes along. I’ll go hide in the back.” 

   As Vincent turns within his seat to climb back into the cargo area, Bruce reaches for the ignition. The van fires to life and a loose power steering belt squeals in protest, as the vehicle pulls away from the curb. The black Econoline creeps down Warehouse Street at a slow rate of speed, its tires leaving a faint trail upon the rain-soaked pavement.

   The vehicle’s burbling exhaust note catches the attention of the African-American woman. She takes a deep drag off of her cigarette, before blowing a smoke cloud out into the air.

* Pheeeeooooow…*

…The prostitute turns and nods her head in the direction of the approaching van. Using street-slang, she then announces to her partner, “Hee-yah comes anotha' one, girlfriend.”

   Her blonde co-worker quickly primps up her hair and adjusts her top across her smallish breasts…

   The van slowly squeaks to a stop in front of the remaining prostitutes. The darker skinned of the two, flicks the butt of her cigarette off into the street, before sexily sashaying on over to the curb. The buxom female leans forward, offering the potential john a better view of her exquisite cleavage…

   “Hey sugar,” greets the woman. “Ya'll lookin' fo' sum action tonight?”

   The man behind the wheel quickly sizes the female up. Despite the Frederick’s wig and the garish make-up, one could tell by her unlined face that she’s in her early twenties. The woman stands curbside in a pair of strapped high heels and a dangerously short skirt. Fishnets cover her sturdy legs, while a leopard-print top stretches out over her ample breasts. A black leather jacket is all that protects her from the horrible elements.

- This one will definitely work.

   “Aren’t you getting cold in this rain?” the driver asks, a sly smile now showing on his face.

   “Ah sure am, handsome…Think ya'll might be able ta' heat me back up?”

   “Maybe…Got any suggestions?”

   The woman teases, “Ah might come up with a few ideas, if ya’ll jest invite me in.”

   “I sure could,” answers the driver, before leaning towards the door to swing it open.

   The prostitute climbs inside and slides her tush across the seat. She pulls the door closed and rolls the window back up, before leaning forward to pull the leather jacket off of her shoulders. It’s too wet to keep it up front, so she leans back and tosses the coat to the floor beside her.

   The wet leather jacket lands on Vincent’s leg. He slides himself back a few more feet into the darkness, while still managing to keep his head down low...

   The hooker studies the john for a moment, and there’s a note of curiosity on her face. She thinks that his headphones are odd, and that it’s peculiar that he’s wearing sunglasses at this late an hour. The woman jokingly inquires, “Say, how can ya'll see the road with those shades on?”

   Bruce doesn’t answer. He’s too preoccupied with the lower hem of the prostitute’s skirt, which seems to be inching further up her thighs, with just the slightest of movements. In fact the hem is so high that he can make out the darker band of elastic that’s circling her hosiery sheathed leg!   …The driver starts to nod his head in approval. He digs out his wallet to withdraw several fifty-dollar bills, before casually tossing them into her lap.

   The hooker’s eyes light up and she quickly reaches for the money. The woman mouths the numbers, one hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four…“Dang!…Hey, you is aiight! …So whatcha’ want to do wit' me, anyway?”

   The driver suggests, “You can start by getting in the back.”

   “So ya'll wanna do it right hee-yah?” questions the woman in surprise.

   “No,” states the driver. “We’re going to head down the road a piece.”

   “Aiight, dats cool!”

   As the hooker turns to climb into the cargo area, her leather skirt hikes up in the back. The driver looks up into the rearview mirror and catches a glimpse of the black thong that’s splitting her ebony ass cheeks. Another sly smile spreads across his face…

   The prostitute slowly feels her way into the back of the van. She lets out a “yelp” in surprise, when she nearly stumbles over an unseen leg.

   “Who in the hell are you?”

   “Don’t you worry, miss,” assures a voice in the darkness. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

…The frightened prostitute swallows hard in her throat.

   “Man…I never agreed to doin' both of ya'll at once!  …Ya'll is into some fucked-up shit, an I want nothin' to do with it!”

   A sudden burst of light completely illuminates the interior of the van. The form of light is so incredibly brilliant, that it catches the attention of the other hooker outside…

   “What in the fuck was that?”

…Now repeatedly blinking the spots from her eyes, the woman cautiously approaches the van. She wraps her knuckles on the side window and yells, “Keisha, are you alright in there?  …Keisha can you hear me?”

   The sliding door at the side of the van rolls open with a noise. Keisha stands just inside, her frozen features barely illuminated by the streetlamps above.

   “Baby, are you alright?”

- Keisha doesn’t reply.

   “Girlfriend, what’s wrong with you?”

   In her peripheral vision, the street-wise prostitute sees some movement within the depths of the van. Sensing trouble, the woman makes an immediate turn to run. An unseen object is tossed to the concrete and unexpectedly rolls across her escape path.

   A second burst of light suddenly illuminates the entire sidewalk. This explosion is far more concentrated than the first, and as the frightened woman is taking her last step forward, she finds that she’s now frozen in place. There’s an odd feeling of “pins and needles” or even a tingling sensation that’s traveling throughout her body. The sudden feeling of numbness is surprisingly refreshing, and admittedly pleasurable. Between the tightness of her skin and the buzzing in her ears, the suspended woman can’t help but surrender herself to the oncoming darkness…

   As the two abductors climb out of the van, one of the men asks, “What should we do with this one?”

   “We can’t just leave her out in the street like this,” replies the other. There’s a brief moment of silence before he suggests, “We’ll have to take her back to the plant with the other one. Maybe they’ll find a use for her there…”

   With that said, the suspended prostitute is leaned back against the one man’s chest, while the other grabs hold of her ankles. Together they lift her stiffened body into the van, where she’s placed with her back flat to the floor. Keisha soon joins her, and the pair stare up at their captors with glazed and unseeing eyes.

   The man named Bruce taps his partner in the chest and orders, “Now let’s get them back for processing.”

   The two men carefully step over their prized catches and get back into their seats. A short moment later, the van has already pulled away from the curb and driven off into the darkness. In the back, two prostitutes lie shoulder to shoulder and helplessly wobbling against each other with every bump in the road. Within the hour, the pair would begin their paths anew…

 

* * * * * *

 

To be CONTINUED… with The Town Hall Incident


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