Last Ferry Out
A ship going over, a fifteen-year-old you promised to bring home, and boats that leave when they are full.
On the first night the ships come, every phone in Tarrow Bend goes dead and three lights hang low over the town, humming. Whatever they find outside when the hum stops, they take. You work the overnight dispatch desk. Your eighty-four-year-old neighbor can't reach the reservoir shelter alone, and a nine-year-old is stuck in a truck on Quarry Road.
fcn-bg-dispatch Decision 1: the dispatch room, lines deadfcn-idle-hum Idle nudge: the hum rattles the roomAt 11:52 p.m. every line on the dispatch board drops at once. Three lights hang low over Tarrow Bend, and the air hums. Your last call was Marisol, nine, alone in her dad's truck on Quarry Road. Your neighbor, Mrs. Tolliver, is eighty-four. The county plan says the reservoir shelter.
First Contact Night is a short alien invasion game told in eight decisions. You work the overnight desk at the county dispatch center in Tarrow Bend, a fictional river-valley town of a few thousand people. At 11:52 p.m. every phone line drops at once, and three lights settle low over the rooftops. The air starts to hum.
It doesn't take long to learn the one rule of the night: whatever the lights find outside when the hum stops, they take. The county plan says to go to the old shelter in the foot of the reservoir dam. Your neighbor is eighty-four and can't get there alone. The last call you took before the lines went dead was from a nine-year-old sitting in her father's truck in a ditch on Quarry Road. You have until the hum runs out.
Two meters sit above the scene. The first, Hum stops in, counts the cycles left before the hum stops for good, and it only goes down. Cover shows how well hidden you are, in three bands: Hidden, Seen and Exposed. Careful choices, like crawling up a ditch or waiting under a roof, usually cost cycles and buy cover. Quick choices save cycles and put you in the open. Most of the game is deciding which one you can afford right now.
You start with time to take one thing from the dispatch room: a portable police scanner that picks up the deputies, the keys to the spare ambulance, or a road flare. The scanner tells you things you can't see for yourself. The ambulance is fast and hard to hide. The flare has exactly one use, and there is more than one thing it is good for. One of them can turn up again later.
The visitors are not doing anything at random. They sweep the town in straight rows, one block at a time, and the more of the town is shouting and shooting, the lower they come. At the last decision you choose how to spend whatever you have left. The shelter door, the ridge, and the open road on top of the dam each have a condition, and the line under every choice tells you what it costs before you pick it. Reading never costs time, and nothing happens while you think.
Mrs. Agnes Tolliver lives next door. She ran the signal tower at the rail junction for thirty-one years, and when you find her she is on her porch with binoculars, counting. You can hurry her, stay and watch with her, or tell her to lock the door and stay home. Marisol is nine, cold, and holding her father's dead phone. Her father walked into town for help an hour ago and hasn't come back.
Deputy Abel Strand is standing in the middle of Quarry Road beside his stalled cruiser when the hum first cuts out. At the Mill Street bridge you meet the town itself: forty frightened people, pickups, a floodlight, and Royce Dunlevy from the feed store, who wants to shoot the lights down. The visitors are one danger tonight. Tarrow Bend is the other.
They Wave Back. Shelter by Dawn. Left the Town Behind. Taken, Returned. Taken. One ending spares the whole town, one gets you under concrete, one gets you out of the valley and leaves everyone else in it, one costs you a day you will never remember, and one doesn't bring you home.
Every ending names your one right choice on a win, or your one wrong choice otherwise. From the result page you can rewind to a turning point instead of starting over, and the endings you have found are saved on this device.
This is a serious story told plainly. Tarrow Bend, its reservoir, its people and its visitors are invented, and the episode is not based on any film, show, book or game. The visitors are never shown as monsters; they are careful, deliberate and hard to read, and most of the danger comes from not understanding them and from what frightened people do. The worst ending is a bad one, but nothing in it is graphic. Nobody is shown hurt, and the people who are taken are simply not there anymore.
You play a dispatcher, not a medic, and nothing in the game is real-world emergency advice. It is written for adults who want a short game with a real decision on every screen and a reason to play it again.
First Contact Night is original fiction. Last updated 2026-11-06.
A ship going over, a fifteen-year-old you promised to bring home, and boats that leave when they are full.
The pilot is out, the fuel is short, and a storm is crossing the only runway close enough.
Twelve minutes, one free hand, and a crowd outside that is drawn to noise.
Part of Worst Shift Ever.