Disclaimer: The Rat Patrol is not my property. They come out to play sometimes, then I send them home.

Ghosts of the Desert

By Suzie2b

The rat patrol was bedded down for the night. It was midnight. The air was cool and still.

Hitch shook Tully's shoulder to wake him up. He whispered, "Time to get up."

Tully opened his eyes and sighed. He sat up and whispered, "How's it been?"

Hitch handed him the binoculars and machine gun. "Real quiet."

"Great. Now go get some sleep."

Tully really didn't mind sentry duty. Nights in the desert were normally quiet. And this night appeared to be pretty normal. He climbed to the top of the sand dune to where Hitch had spent the last four hours. He looked out at the dark, empty landscape as the moon peeked out briefly from behind the clouds.

Walking the crest of the dune Tully checked out all directions. Nothing to see. Of course, this was a good thing when you're on sentry duty. He turned and started back when something felt different. The air felt heavy. It became impossibly quieter. So quiet that his ears rang with the silence. And then something touched him. Just a light touch, like a hand on his shoulder.

With a startled gasp Tully swung around to see … nothing. He looked around, but saw no one. Then something in the distance caught his eye. A glowing light. Just one to start with. After several seconds another appeared, and then three more. Tully watched as the lights moved about independently of each other, flickering and changing color. Binoculars only revealed that they were glowing lights … nothing more.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he whirled around. Nothing. He turned back and saw there were more lights. Tully counted fifteen now and he could swear they were closer than before. He looked down at the camp and made out the sleeping shapes of Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch as the pale moon made another appearance.

Tully felt a hand grab his wrist and he tried to pull away from … no one. But the invisible hand squeezed like a vise. And then it was gone. Tully rubbed his sore wrist as he thought, "What the heck…?"

The fifteen lights had swelled to twenty-five with more appearing each second. And yes, they were definitely closer. A pack of jackals barked and howled, making Tully jump, then all was silent again. He stared at the lights as they gathered at the bottom of the sand dune. It was strange. They seemed to be floating, but they didn't shed light on the ground. They weren't orbs, but elongated, and of varying sizes.

Tully's heartbeat grew faster as the lights began to climb the dune towards him. As they got closer, he began to see silhouettes within the glowing lights. He could make out arms, legs, and heads. He wanted to run, but he couldn't seem to move. He wanted to cry out, but he suddenly had no voice. The machine gun and binoculars fell from his hands.

As the apparitions got closer, Tully could feel hands again. Some on his shoulders and arms, others on his face. His helmet fell to the ground as if it had been taken off his head and dropped. He could feel fingers on his head. Tully watched as the beings progressed and realized they had no faces. He saw ears, even what appeared to be hair, but no faces.

They filed up the dune, past him, and down the other side. Every one of them had to touch or tap him. There was a rough slap on his back, another to his chest. At one point Tully watched as one apparition took his bruised wrist in a hand and held it up as if to examine it, then released it and moved on.

And then the procession ended. Tully turned to see which direction the lights were headed … but they had disappeared. He turned circles, but there was nothing to see. Slowly, Tully gathered up the machine gun, binoculars, and helmet. Suddenly he felt very weak and his knees buckled. He sat down hard and willed himself to breathe normally.

Tully didn't know how long he sat there. It felt like just a few minutes. It was still dark. The jackals could be heard in the distance again. And then a hand was on his shoulder. Tully gasped and pushed himself away.

"Hey … Tully, what's wrong?"

Tully blinked. "Sarge?"

Troy scowled at the wide eyed private. "Of course it is. What the heck's going on?"

Tully scrambled to his feet, saying, "Nothing. Just wasn't expecting you this soon."

Troy chuckled quietly. "What'd you do, lose track of time? You've been up here four and a half hours. Good thing I woke up on my own."

Tully looked surprised. "Really? Time sure flies."

"Yeah. Anything moving out there?"

Tully hesitated, then lied, "Nah … didn't see a thing."

Troy took the binoculars and machine gun from him and said, "Well, why don't you go down and get couple more hours of shut eye."

Tully nodded, but didn't say anything.

Troy watched him make his way down the sand dune. Saw him stop at the bottom, look around as if expecting to see something, then walk to their camp. Troy had an odd feeling that something had happened, but obviously Tully wasn't going to say anything.

Tully didn't sleep. Didn't even try. He built up the fire and sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his chin resting on his knees. He wasn't sure what had happened. He thought, "Was I really up there for four and a half hours?" He looked at his wrist and could see in the firelight a bruise encircling it. "Something happened … that's for sure." He stared at the fire for a minute, then thought, "Were they the ghosts of people who died in the desert? Soldiers? Arabs?"

Tully looked at Hitch and Moffitt as they slept on. He looked up and could just see Troy's silhouette walking across the sand dune. He wondered if he'd ever tell anyone about what had happened. He wondered if anyone would believe him.