Species III

1

Most people don't see it,

or don't want to see it.

The evidence is right there,

but they refuse

to make the connection.

We have Colleen on line 1.

Oh, absolutely.

We are living in a world

of high strangeness.

The fact is, all this activity

started happening at a certain

definite point in our history.

Before the early '50s, there's nothing.

Then it all began.

The sightings, the signals...

too many to deny.

So you have to ask yourself,

"What specific event

caused this sudden uptick

in alien visitation after

thousands of years of silence?"

It was our atomic energy.

They detected it.

I mean, that many megatons?

How couldn't they?

And then, they followed it here.

What do they want?

Are they studying us?

Warning us? Harvesting us?

We don't know,

but the fact is they're here.

They are here now,

and they are not going away.

Mercy, six-two actual.

We've lost visual contact.

Say position. Over.

Roger, six-two. Stand by.

Chopper's lost us.

I think we took a wrong turn.

Can't see a damn thing out here.

Friday, April 13th. Huh...

My last day alive... maybe.

What does that matter

when so many have died before me?

They said she was beautiful.

I suppose she was.

The part of her

that was human, anyway.

And the part that wasn't,

what about that?

Did the men she killed understand,

in some final flash before dying,

what she really was?

Cold. Indifferent. Inhuman.

Insatiable.

And terrifyingly wonderful.

And what about the civilization

that beamed her DNA code

through space?

They knew we'd use it.

Knew we'd mix it

with our own genes.

But did they know the monster

that would result?

Twice she was built.

Twice she brought destruction.

And now it's my turn

to take Eve's body.

Take her dying DNA and somehow

create something better.

More pure.

Only then will we understand

why she was sent.

Only then.

Slow down. Easy.

She's dead.

I don't think she cares at this point.

You up from the Reserves

or something?

Something like that.

- Wait.

- What?

The road.

We're supposed to be

on a gravel road.

The one we passed back there.

Pull over, man.

I told you to stay on the road!

Did you hear me?

I said, pull over.

Six-two, this is Mercy.

Put down the radio. Now.

- I said, put it down now!

- Okay! Okay! Chill out!

What are you,

back from Iraq or something?

Shut up. Now, get out.

Jesus f***ing Christ!

Anybody! This is Mercy!

Cargo's alive!

Repeat, the cargo is alive...

Now, get out, as I told you.

What the hell are you doin'?

Mercy six-two, come in.

Do you read me? Over.

Do you read me? Over?

- Nothing.

- Find them.

Are you...

Eve.

I got him.

16 miles east-southeast.

Looks like they're not moving.

Still no contact?

Mercy six-two, come in.

Come in. Do you read me? Over.

Negative.

Send a ground team in there

to meet us.

Six-two ground. Six-two

ground. This is six-two actual.

Rendezvous, Mercy.

Coordinates, 87 Foxtrot. Over.

Can't see anyone down there.

Let's pay 'em a visit.

- Who's he?

- Specialist Robert Kelly.

- Who else was here?

- Just the driver.

- Where's his body?

- No idea, sir.

I want a full autopsy.

Check every inch of

this ambulance and destroy it.

- And find that driver.

- Yes, sir.

Good afternoon, sir.

This monster's been

sucking in natural gas

and spewing out electricity

for over 50 years.

Now, you might be wondering why

we still need this in the 21st century.

After all, it's loud, expensive,

inefficient, temperamental,

and it smells terrible.

And it's the best way we have

of keeping the lights on.

But, if you follow me,

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