Devils in the Desert

By: AliasCWN

Moffitt was on guard duty when the attack came. One minute he was slowly circling their small camp in the still of the night, and the next, he was fighting off a swarm of knife wielding Arabs. He shouted a warning to the others even as he tried to drive the attackers back. Behind him the camp came alive as the other three members of his team threw blankets aside and joined the defense of their position. Unfortunately for them, the battle was lost almost before it began. Moffitt fell under a combined assault and a rifle barrel to the head ended his attempt at resistance. He fell to the ground unconscious and his attackers moved on to overrun the camp.

Troy fired his Thompson but in the dark he had trouble finding a proper target. Several of the dark forms rushing toward him fell under his gun but he couldn't stop them all. The weight of combined bodies knocked him to the ground where he continued to struggle. A knee to the head had him seeing stars while another to the stomach knocked the wind out of him. Grasping hands encircled his arms and pulled them behind him. They rolled him over and someone sat on his back while his hands were bound at the wrists. He twisted and bucked in an attempt to throw the weight off but it was no use. He was yanked to his feet and pulled toward the center of their camp.

Tully had taken cover under his jeep and he also managed to drop a few of the shadowy figures that invaded the camp before eager hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him from beneath the vehicle. He hit his head on the underside of the jeep as he twisted and struggled to free himself. His attempt to roll onto his back and get his rifle into play was thwarted by the sheer mass of bodies reaching for him. Grasping hands pulled at his body and yanked the rifle from his hands. The one shot he did manage to fire sped harmlessly into the air. His arms were pulled behind him and his wrists were tightly bound with a thick rope. Like Troy, he was forced into the center of the camp to await his fate.

Despite the darkness Hitch saw Tully being overrun and he tried to help. From his shelter between some rocks he managed to shoot a couple of the attackers around Tully's jeep. The flash from the muzzle of his gun alerted the attackers to his position and he soon found himself outnumbered and surrounded. Putting his back against the largest rock, he tried to keep them from reaching his position. A large group of them rushed him from the front and he drove them back with gunfire. He heard a sound above and behind him and he tried to twist around to face the new threat. Before he could twist all of the way around a heavy body dropped on top of him from above. His rifle fired and he heard a grunt before lights exploded in his head. He never felt his wrists being bound or knew when he was carried to the center of the camp and dumped next to Troy and Tully.

"Hitch! Hitch!"

The sound of Troy's worried call brought him from the blackness of unconsciousness to the darkness of their small camp.

"I'm okay Sarge."

"Are you sure?" Tully asked. "You're bleeding."

"My head hurts," Hitch answered.

"Where's Doc?"

Tully's question acted as a focus for his thoughts and Hitch began to notice things around him. The first thing he noticed was that there were only three of them sitting in the center of the wadi. Then the aches from the bruises and the blow to his head registered. He tried to ignore the aches as he searched for Moffitt.

"There he is," Troy whispered.

They all twisted to watch the Arabs drag the sergeant's unconscious body down the slope of the wadi and drop it next to them.

"Is he alive?"

"He's tied so he must be," Troy reasoned.

"Yeah, it wouldn't make much sense to tie a dead man's hands," Tully agreed with relief.

"I can't see anything," Hitch complained. "Why don't they light a fire?" He could feel Troy's shoulders bump his own as the sergeant shrugged.

After dumping Moffitt's body next to them their captors stepped back. A few of them stayed to guard the prisoners while the others searched the jeeps for anything of value. Little by little the supplies, weapons, ammunition, and blankets were stacked on a pile nearby.

"They're going to find mighty slim pickings in there," Tully drawled.

The four of them were halfway through a four-day recon of Sector F where they were supposed to look for enemy activity. They never carried any more than they needed due to space restrictions and they had already used up half of their supplies.

They had left the base in a hurry after a series of pranks had nearly gotten the privates sent to the stockade. They had been given the assignment right after a prank that had turned all of them blue had cleared the two men. The captain said they could use the time away from the base to let the color wear off. Troy looked at his men and wondered if the blue coloring on their skin might help hide them if they managed to escape. Even this close he had a hard time distinguishing their features in the dark.

"Is he breathing?" Tully was staring at the British sergeant but he couldn't tell if his chest was moving or not.

"Yeah," Troy confirmed. "I think they just knocked him out. It looks like he's coming around now."

Moffitt began to move, first his head, then his arms. After testing the bonds on his wrists he rolled over to face Troy. "Is everyone all right?"

"That depends," Troy answered. "Are you?"

"My head hurts but I'm fine," the Brit replied.

"That's what Hitch said too," Troy nodded.

"Is he?"

"Are you?" Troy countered.

"Yes."

Troy nodded in relief. "I think he is too." He glanced toward the mob around the jeeps and then at their guards. The guards were too far away to catch by surprise even if they did appear to be more interested in the jeeps than in the prisoners. "What do they want?"

Moffitt shrugged his thin shoulders and tried for a reassuring smile. "I have no idea."

"They look like thieves to me," Tully grumbled as he watched them paw through the contents of the jeeps.

"Perhaps," Moffitt agreed. "Or perhaps we were the targets and whatever they find in the jeeps is a bonus."

"What are they saying?" Troy asked.

Moffitt listened for a few minutes before he answered Troy's question. "They are arguing over the things they took from the jeeps."

"Good, maybe they'll kill each other and save us the trouble," Hitch responded.

Ignoring Hitch, Troy watched them argue as he spoke to Moffitt. "Is there any way we could make a deal for our freedom?"

The Brit shrugged. "They already have everything that belongs to us, what more could we offer I exchange?"

Hitch looked at the bodies that had been laid out a short distance away. "We killed some of them Sarge, they aren't going to be happy about that."

"They attacked us," the sergeant growled.

"Yet they didn't kill any of us," Moffitt observed softly.

"What does that mean?"

Moffitt turned his head to look at his three companions. "It may mean that they have other plans for us."

"I don't like the sound of that," Tully drawled.

"Nor I," Moffitt admitted.

"Plans? Like what?" Troy demanded.

Moffitt looked toward their captors and shrugged. "It could be a slow death…or it could be something much worse," he added in a softer tone. The silence from the others told him that they understood his meaning. None of them spoke again as the Arabs continued to fight over the items from the jeeps.

The arguing went on for so long that all four prisoners found themselves dozing off. After two days of staring at miles of empty sand, they were tired. The grit irritated their eyes and the sun dried them out. Their eyes were red and bloodshot from the strain and the wind whipping past their faces. Despite the predicament they found themselves in, fatigue won out. Tully's voice woke them when the arguments ended.

"Here they come."

The band of Arabs approached the four men with sinister grins. Before they could do anything Moffitt spoke to them in their own language. The leader, a filthy, cruel looking man, stopped in surprise at hearing his own language coming from the prisoner.

"Why have you attacked us?" Moffitt demanded in their native tongue.

"Silence!" the Arab shouted. "Prisoners are not to ask questions!"

"This one does!" Moffitt shouted back. "We have done you no harm, why do you attack us?"

The Arab stepped forward and pulled Moffitt to his feet. "This one dies first," he declared.

Moffitt kept his face blank as he translated for Troy. Troy tried to climb to his feet but was kicked down by one of the guards. Troy roared in anger. Moffitt's hands were cut free and he was shoved toward the rocks. One of the Arabs began to build a fire as the sergeant stood defiantly among his captors. Once the fire had a good start Moffit was grabbed and pulled closer. Forcing him to his knees the Arab lifted a burning branch toward the sergeant's face. Suddenly he froze with a wide-eyed look of fright on his face. The branch continued to light up the sergeant's features.

Tully began to yell and struggle with the guards. Troy kicked the legs out from under another one. Men scrambled to reassert control over the prisoners.

Moffitt saw the fear on the leader's face and was puzzled by it. As far as he could remember he had never met the man. It wasn't until the leader started to mutter to himself that the sergeant began to smile. When Moffitt smiled the leader backed away from him, putting space between them.

Tully was still struggling with two of the guards while others held Hitch and Troy on the ground. All of them were yelling threats about what they would do if they ever managed to get loose. The Arabs didn't understand the words but the tone was clear enough to overcome the language barrier.

Suddenly Moffitt began to laugh manically. This only upset the leader further and he took several more steps away from the sergeant. Pointing a finger at the leader Moffitt began to chant nonsense. The louder he chanted the more the Arabs tried to get away from him. Spinning on his heels the sergeant pointed at the Arabs surrounding his three friends and shouted. The guards jumped to their feet and backed away.

"Get to your feet and begin shouting at them," Moffitt ordered the others. "Try to look menacing."

The Arabs still formed a circle around them but Troy, Tully, and Hitch did as they were told.

"Hitch, Tully, come over here and let them see you in the light." Moffitt said in a singsong rhythm.

Backing to the fire the two privates stood so that the light illuminated their faces. Upon seeing them in the light the Arabs began to shift their feet nervously and mutter among themselves. The leader tried to shake off his own fear and take control again but it was clear that he had lost the support of his men.

"Kneel next to the fire so they can get a better look at your faces and begin to chant," Moffitt ordered.

"Chant what? What do we say?" Tully asked.

"It doesn't matter what you say, they don't understand you," Moffitt answered. "Just make it look convincing."

"It might be easier if we knew what we were trying to convince them of," Hitch answered as he glared at their captors.

The Arabs moved back at his glare.

Leaning close to the fire the two privates did as they were told. Moffitt pointed at them and spoke to the Arabs in their own language, then he burst into laughter again. The laughter seemed to be the last straw. The leader tried to hold them but the rest of the band shouted in alarm and ran from the camp, leaving all of their ill-gotten gains behind.

Troy watched them go before he rose and joined his men. No one spoke as the sounds of screaming men faded into the dark.

"I think they're gone," Moffitt announced. He walked to the pile of goods and retrieved his knife. He walked around the privates and cut the ropes binding their hands. "Put everything back in the jeeps so we can get out of here before they find their courage."

Both privates nodded and got to work.

Troy looked at the pile of supplies as Moffitt walked around him to cut him free. The Arabs had left everything behind, not even taking the weapons. "What was that all about?"

Moffitt shrugged as he stared off into the darkness. "I guess they don't like us." He turned to face Troy with a smile on his face.

"Us in particular or us in general?"

"At first I think it was us in general," Moffitt explained. "But once they saw us in the light, I think it was us in particular. They took us alive so that they could kill us slowly from what I gathered from their talk. But after seeing us in the light, that changed."

"What did you say to change their minds?"

"Nothing," Moffitt answered. "At least nothing that they understood," he added mysteriously.

"Then what were you laughing about?"

"Didn't you see their reaction to us Troy?"

"Yeah, so? Did they know us from somewhere?"

"No," Moffitt shook his head with a smile, "and they didn't want to get to know us."

Troy frowned at Moffitt's evasive answer.

Moffitt smiled at Troy's confusion and held up his hands. "When they got me near the light they noticed my red eyes and my blue skin," Moffitt explained. "They thought I was a demon. My laughter and chanting only enhanced that fear. A few curses thrown in didn't hurt any either. They may still have held out against one demon, but when they saw Hitch and Tully, especially with their blue hair, they lost their nerve." By now Moffitt was laughing so hard he was having a hard time continuing with the explanation.

Tully and Hitch had caught the last half of the conversation and they were laughing too.

"What's wrong Troy?" Moffitt asked after noticing the other sergeant's frown. "You should be happy, this blue skin worked to our advantage."

"Yeah Sarge," Hitch added, "it sure got us out of a jam this time."

"Yeah," Troy growled, "but that leaves us with another problem."

"What's that old man?" Moffitt stopped laughing long enough to ask.

"How are we going to explain this to the captain?"

That brought another round of laughter from the others. Troy tried to keep frowning but he couldn't help himself. Soon his laughter mingled with the others. The sound carried far out into the desert where the Arabs heard and ran faster in their fright.