Michael Flat had smoked a cigarette after his visit to the latrines before returning now. Surprised he heard loud voices from the fire site. A dispute? He hated senseless arguments and hoped this was not. With compressed lips he hurried over. Soon he heard sentence shreds.
"…Usually aren't superstitious…Sure…didn't drink…?"
"If I say it was there, then it was!" He recognised Connely's voice.
"Nosferatu...," called someone. "How far away are the Carpathian Mountains?"
The giggle changed to laughter just as Flat joined them
"Perhaps it was a poltergeist." Spinster laughed.
"Oh, I'm so afraid," one of the men said, imitating a woman's voice and batting his eyelashes. The round broke out in laughter again.
"Shut up!" commanded someone from the edge of the fire's light circle. Unnoticed, the Captain had approached.
The laugher ceased.
"What's going on here? One hears you miles away. Need I remind you of the security risk lack of discipline poses? Who knows what combatants are still in the area! Report!" he ordered McCalman, the highest ranking man present.
"Sir, Connely saw a shape over at the steep cliff when he looked around there." McCalman hesitated. "He said it was small, pale, bloody and vanished into thin air."
Connely flushed under Morgan's scrutiny.
"Spinster, Connely, McCalman, come along. We'll have a look."
The men exchanged uncomfortable glances. Spinster licked his lips and said, "Perhaps someone else should come along, Sir." After another sideways glance to Morgan he added, "Never mind."
"I'll come along in case someone gets injured," Flat offered quietly.
Morgan looked at him, then at the relieved men and nodded. "Sometimes a medic is close to a priest. Hand him a torch." Then he eyed the others around the fire. "If I hear loud sounds again, you'll all polish your boots with toothbrushes. Connely, take the lead."
"Aye, Sir." Connely replied, not enthusiastic to leave the fire, which promised safe refuge. With a last glance to the fire he took off into the darkness.
Cautiously they approached the place that had so frightened Connely. Their torches flashed into the night, over trunks and roots. Morgan kneeled down. "I'd say your appearance was alive. And no, whatever it was didn't disappear, it ran away. "
The strong light beam illuminated dented grass and aside pushed brushwood to the forest ground where the traces lost themselves.
He rose. "It might have been a deer or something. As soon as it's bright we'll send a search party."