Burning Sands

By: Walter G. Esselman

“I didn’t come to Afghanistan just to babysit civilians’ Sarge,” grumbled Corporal Perelli.

“And I didn’t come to listen to you whine, but yet…here we are,” replied the Sarge gruffly.

The aforementioned civilian, Benedict Carter, kept his eyes closed as he eavesdropped.  Their old truck bounced as it went down the Afghani road.  Peering through half closed eyes, he looked out of the back of the truck.  The terrain here looked particularly harsh as the truck kicked up road dust.

Then in a flash, Carter saw the young woman.  She was walking by the road with a canister for water.  Dressed in an orange niqab—similar to a burqa—she was completely covered, except for her eyes, which locked with his.  Even from this distance, he knew that one of her bright eyes was blue and the other green.

With a roar, the truck rumbled on and she was gone.

Carter sat up straight and stretched.  Corporal Perelli, who had been talking behind his back, looked away quickly.  Carter pretended not to notice as he looked from the geriatric truck to the Sarge.

“How old is this truck?  World War 2?” asked Carter.

“They were out of Hummers,” snapped the Sarge.  “But it’ll get us there.” 

“Any word from Caprizi’s squad?” asked Carter.

“Not a bloody peep,” said the Sarge.  “Just like they didn’t tell me why the hell you were coming along on a military op, DOCTOR Carter.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” said Carter ignoring the sarcasm.  “They didn’t tell me much either.”

“Do we know anything?” asked Perelli.

“We know that Lieutenant Caprizi’s squad was just supposed to swing through town two days ago on reconnaissance,” said Carter.  “They called in before they reached the town, and then...nothing.” 

“That’s what they told me too.  And you’re here because…?” asked the Sarge.

“I’ve been studying this patch of land,” said Carter.  “Mind you from the safety of Kabul.”

“Kabul’s safe?” asked the Sarge.

“I went to school at New York University,” shrugged Carter.  “And I couldn’t afford to live in the safest of neighborhoods.”

“Good block, bad block,” replied the Sarge.  “Right, so DOCTOR Carter, what have you learned about this area that we’re barreling into?”

“Actually, it’s a bit of a mystery,” said Carter.  “It’s one of these little spots in the world that everyone seems to avoid.  The Afghani warlords won’t go through this patch of land.  The Taliban stayed clear of the area, as did Al Qaeda from all reports.  The Soviets never put a base here.”

“The Russians were here?” asked Perelli.

“Shut up Perelli,” said the Sarge off-handily.

“Back in 1979,” said Carter to Perelli.  “It didn’t go well for them.”

“And what about now?” asked the Sarge pointedly.

“I am tracing the history of this region all the way back to Alexander the Great, and I think I found that even he avoided this area,” said Carter.

“At least we didn’t put a base here,” grinned Perelli.

Carter and the Sarge just looked at Perelli meaningfully.  

“We didn’t, did we?” asked Perelli tenuously.

“Some general thought it was an ideal spot,” said Carter.  “Good supply lines and all that.”

“What happened?” squeaked Perelli.

With a dry voice, Carter said.  “It didn’t go well for them.” 

The driver, Smythe, pushed open a plastic partition between the cab and the back of the truck.  Cool air spilled out.

“Hey!  Hey!  We got the town up ahead Sarge!  LT’s having us stop at the edge,” called out Smythe.  The way the driver spoke, it almost sounded like he was asking the Sarge for permission to follow the lieutenant’s orders.  

“Damn good idea,” replied the Sarge energetically as he hoisted his M27 Rifle.

As Smythe closed the plastic partition, Perelli looked at the Sarge.

“Wait, you keep using ‘LT’?” asked Perelli.  “What’s an ‘L.T.’?”

“Short for lieutenant,” explained Carter.

“Are you two done?” demanded the Sarge.

Carter smirked.  “Peachy.”

The Sarge shook his head and then glared at his troops. 

“OKAY, as soon as we stop, I want a nice spread.  Do you hear me?” called out the Sarge.  His troops barked in response.  “I said, DO YOU HEAR ME!”

This time the cry was louder.

“Well goddamn,” said the Sarge.  “It’s enough to put a tear in an old sergeant’s eye.”  The truck stopped.  “Now MOVE!!!”

The troops boiled out of the back of the truck and spread out to cover it.  The Sarge glared at Carter.

“And you’re with me bookworm,” said the Sarge.

“Really?  Bookworm?” asked Carter incredulously as he followed the Sarge out into the bright sunlight.

The Sarge moved around the truck to where the lieutenant was out and eyeing the town with binoculars.  The town was really just the length of a New York City block with a road down the middle.  Brick and mud buildings stood on either side of the road.  Carter waited for a tumbleweed to drift past, but the universe disappointed him.

“Anything Sir?” asked the Sarge of his commanding officer.

“All’s quiet,” replied Lieutenant Froat.

“I’ll have the men break into two teams and do a search,” said the Sarge.  “We’ll be out of here long before nightfall.”

“Do that,” nodded Lieutenant Froat as he climbed back into the air-conditioned truck.  As soon as they were out of earshot, Carter murmured to the Sarge.

“Looks like you drew a bad LT from the pile,” said Carter.

“Ah, could be worse,” shrugged the Sarge.  “He—at least—takes orders and lets the sergeants do their work.”  Reaching his people, the Sarge raised his voice.  “OKAY!  Everyone form up on me.  Move!  Move!  Move!”

The squad ran up to the sergeant.

“Okay,” said the Sarge.  “It’s thirteen thirty-two now.  We’re going to be long gone by sunset at 19:08 tonight.  That means we need to move quickly, WHILE making sure that you don’t miss any of our people, or walk over a god-damned I.E.D. and get blown to hell!  Do you understand?”

“Yes SIR!” cried the squad.

“Right,” said the Sarge.  “Corporal Links, you take half the squad and check the buildings on the right, and we’ll check the left.  Anything interesting, call!  You got that?”

“Yes sir,” said Links. 

Carter looked through his monocular at the town.

“There’s a store halfway down on the left,” suggested Carter.  “If there’s no trouble, we can meet there.”

“Good idea egghead,” said the Sarge.

While perturbed, Carter just shook his head as the Sarge walked off with a mischievous grin.  

The Sarge led his half of the squad towards the left part of the town.  The Marines quickly became serious as Perelli took point with just a gesture from the Sarge. 

 Moving ahead, Perelli brought up his weapon and stopped at the first house.  The door was half open.  Stepping carefully inside, Corporal Perelli found that the house was empty.  Carter was the last through the door and his attention was immediately pulled towards the edge of the room.

“What is it?” asked the Sarge when he saw the concerned look on Carter’s face.

“Dinner’s ready,” said Carter looking over an evening meal of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions that had been barely touched.  The food had been sitting there for a few days.  “They were not expecting trouble.”

“Come on, stick close,” said the Sarge.

***

“Hey Sarge!” cried Jones who was in front of the town store. The Sarge and Carter jogged over to him.  Jones pointed towards the ground with his weapon.  “Just saw it lying there.”

The Sarge knelt and took out his knife.  He lifted up a pair of dog tags—sticky with blood and sand—from where they had been half buried.

“Who is it?” asked Carter.

“Caprizi himself,” said the Sarge somberly.

“Damn,” said Carter.

Standing, the Sarge looked at Perelli.

“Take Jones and go help Links finish his sweep, then I want everyone back at the store double time,” said the Sarge.  “Everyone stays together.  If you need to, pee in a group.”

“Don’t cross the streams,” advised Carter.

“Quiet Nerd-boy,” growled the Sarge.

Franks and Quinn came out of the store.

“Sir, the store is bigger than we thought,” said Franks.

“How so?” asked the Sarge.

“Well, it’s as if it doubled as a community meeting place as well,” said Franks.

“And there are rooms upstairs,” said Quinn.  “Empty though.”

“Okay, let’s get everyone out of this blessed sunlight,” said the Sarge as they moved into the store. 

One side of the store was covered with food, rolled up rugs and other essentials.   The other side had an open area with a few tables and chairs.

“Cozy,” said Carter as he looked the place over.

The Sarge went over to the communal area with his part of the squad to review what they had found so far, or—more accurately—had not found.  Carter was about to join them when he saw a figure move at the top of the stairs.  He knew—intuitively—that it was the woman from the side of the road.

Quickly going up the stairs, he found a set of rooms on the right side.  One door was open and he stopped at the threshold.  Inside, he saw the young woman, now seated at a desk, looking at a mirror in front of her.  Her veil was off, and the mirror reflected her beautiful face.

Even though Carter was sure that she knew he was there, he nonetheless cleared his throat and introduced himself in Farsi.

“That’s actually pretty good,” replied the young looking woman, Shiva, in English.

“Really?  Cool.  I’m still learning, ” replied Carter.

“Luckily for you,” said Shiva.  “I speak more than one language.  But you get an ‘A’ for effort.”

“Fair enough,” laughed Carter. “Um, I’m with a small military force.  We’re trying to find out what happened to some of our men.”

“Is it customary in your country to just walk into a woman’s bedroom?” asked Shiva.

“I’m not in your room,” said Carter in confusion gesturing that he was outside.

“Your toes are inside the door,” nodded Shiva to his right foot.

Carter looked down and saw that one foot had indeed crept a little inside the threshold.

“I have impetuous toes,” said Carter.  “I got them from my grandfather.  He liked to sit across from grandma and tickle her ankles underneath the table with his toes.  Then she’d throw peas at him.”

Shiva stopped and looked at him.

“Now you’re just making up tall tales,” said Shiva with mock crossness.

“If I’m lying, I’m dying,” said Carter.  “That’s why grandpa liked holes in his socks.”

A laugh burst out of Shiva, and it was light and musical.

“And where are you from?” asked Carter.  “I don’t quite recognize your accent.”

“I have travelled far,” said Shiva.  “Many countries.  But I spent a wonderful time in India.”

“Beautiful country,” said Carter.  

“I am so desperately fond of it,” said Shiva.  “Now, what are you doing here again?”

“To find our men...well, not mine,” said Carter.  “But we can protect you too.”

“You are here to protect me?” asked Shiva, mildly surprised.

“Absolutely,” said Carter.

“How charming,” said Shiva.

Suddenly, there was an explosion from outside.  Carter started to turn down the hall when he stopped and looked back.  

“Better close your door,” said Carter.  “We’ll be back.”

Carter turned and ran down the stairs.  He did not see the door shut by itself.

Hitting the ground floor, Carter followed the Sarge’s half of the squad out onto the road.  He saw the truck burning.  Someone on fire was flailing in the sand by the truck.  Everyone surged forward to see the Lieutenant trying to roll out the flames that covered his body.  Carter dropped to his knees scooping up sand and poured it on the lieutenant.  The others followed his lead and the fire was soon out.  But the LT made horrible noises as he shuddered from the burns.  The Sarge turned to Dixon and Gills.

“Go back to the store and grab one of the rugs,” ordered the Sarge.  “We’ll use it as a stretcher.”

The Sarge looked back at Smythe, but the driver had not made it out of the burning truck.

Shortly, they were carrying Lieutenant Froat into the store, suspended on a rug, when Links and his part of the squad ran up.

“Sarge?” asked Links in confusion looking from the burned lieutenant to the dead truck.  The Sarge fixed Links with a hard look.

“I want a parameter set up five minutes ago, and get someone on the horn for a chopper,” ordered the Sarge.  “I don’t want to spend the night in this pleasant little ghost town.”

“Yes sir,” said Links as he turned to the men behind him to give them orders.

Inside the store, Carter, Dixon, Gills and the Sarge—each holding an edge of the rug—stopped at the edge of the communal center by a wall.

“Okay, on three, we lower him gently,” said the Sarge.  At three, they carefully put him on the ground, but it still caused the LT a lot of pain.  As soon as the rug was down, Dixon and Gills backed away from the burned man, and the two looked a little green.  For all his toughness, the Sarge was even having trouble looking at the LT’s horrible wounds. 

The medic slipped past everyone and dropped next to the lieutenant.  Seeing everyone else’s—understandable—reticence, Carter knelt next to the LT and assisted as the medic went to work.  

Realizing something, Carter looked back up at Perelli.  “There was a civilian woman in one of the rooms upstairs.  Could you just make sure that she’s safe?”

Perelli looked at the Sarge who shrugged.  

“Sure,” said Perelli as he headed upstairs.

“What’s this?” asked the Sarge.

“I found this woman upstairs,” said Carter.

“And you were going to tell me when?” barked the Sarge.

“It was right before the running, and the screaming,” said Carter.  “So I’m telling you now.”

The LT moaned and Carter turned his attention back to the poor man as the medic worked fast.

Carter soon noticed that Perelli had returned, and was hovering nervously nearby.  He kept looking from Carter to the Sarge and finally cleared his throat.  

“Um, are you sure she was there?” asked Perelli of Carter.

“She’s gone?” asked Carter.

“Um,” started Perelli.

“Out with it,” barked the Sarge.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in those rooms for awhile,” said Perelli.  “I mean, they’re clean enough, but they just look, you know, unused...dusty.  Lots of dust.”

The Sarge glared at Carter.

“You going nuts on me?”

“I saw her by the road as we drove in, and then again upstairs,” replied Carter.  “She was wearing an orange niqab, and had one eye that was blue and the other green.”

“Did she do the truck?” asked Perelli suspiciously.

“I was with her when it blew,” said Carter thoughtfully.  “Could have been on a timer…”  His voice drifted off.

“…but that doesn’t feel right to you?” finished the Sarge.

“Not even slightly,” said Carter.  “Maybe I am going mad.”

“It was small, pig-like.  Went under the truck,” groaned a voice.  Carter looked down.  The lieutenant had his one good eye open.  It bounced wildly in its socket.

Carter turned quickly to look with guarded concern at the Sarge.

‘Piggy?’ mouthed the Sarge in reply.

The lieutenant kept talking in a haunting whisper.  “Went out to investigate.  It was crawling under the truck.  It had a big bag with it.  It was not… human.  And then the pack began to burn fast.  Burning everywhere...spreading... ”  Then the lieutenant made a pained noise, and went quiet.

After a moment, the Sarge spoke up.  “Is he…?”

“Still alive,” said the medic.  The Sarge looked at Dixon who had gone to call for a helicopter.

“Any word?” asked the Sarge.

“Can’t get through,” said Dixon, shaking his head.

“Keep trying,” said the Sarge.  “In the meantime, we plan for the worse.  I want everyone to grab anything they can and button up every hole into this place.  Check corners and walls for any places that the enemy can squeeze through, even the roof.  I don’t want a flea to get in here.”

***

Carter poked the body under the truck with a broom handle.  Its burnt skin made a grotesque, crackling noise.  Perelli looked like he was ready to lose his lunch, but the Sarge just squinted at it.

“That one of them?” asked the Sarge.

Again, Carter poked the body with the broom. 

 They had gone out, with a few of the squad, to look at the truck when it had cooled down.  There, they had found most of a small body under the truck.

“I can’t tell for sure,” said Carter.  “Maybe with a lab…and a degree in forensics.  But yeah, probably.”

“Crap,” grumbled the Sarge.  “What’re they doing out in the daylight?  They hate daylight!  And where’s my rescue chopper?”

A cry came off the wind.  It sounded like a Football stadium, right before the crowd started to riot.  Slowly, Carter and the Sarge both turned towards the East, their expressions rigidly neutral.

“Rallying cry,” said Carter.

“Earlier than expected,” replied the Sarge.

“Maybe hungry?” suggested Carter.

Perelli cut in.  “What do mean?”

Ignoring Perelli’s question, the Sarge turned to his squad.  “Okay.  Back to the store.  Perelli, I want an ammo check five minutes ago.”

“We arming everyone?” asked Perelli, and he looked meaningfully at Carter as they walked.
“Not a gun guy,” replied Carter.

“Now is a good time to become…,” started Perelli.  

“Perelli!” bellowed the Sarge, cutting him off.  “Double time it up to the store and start that ammo check.”

Perelli looked like he wanted to say more, but he wisely ran ahead.  After he left, the other troops gave Carter and the Sarge a little more space. 

“Gonna be long night,” sighed the Sarge.

***

Carter went farther back into the store to stay out of the way.  He leaned against the doorframe of a storage room that was full of boxes.  Up front, the Sarge was barking orders to his squad as they buttoned up the place.  Carter hoped it would be enough.

“It won’t be,” said a soft voice from the room.  Carter swung around and saw Shiva in her orange niqab.

“Ah, my favorite hallucination,” said Carter.

“Is that what I am now?” asked Shiva with amusement.

“You know, I don’t even know your name,” said Carter.

“Is that important?” asked Shiva.

“Could be nice,” said Carter.  “How about this, I’ll tell you my name, and then you tell me yours.  My name is Benedict Carter.  Though, I wonder if you already knew that.”

“Why would say that?” asked Shiva playfully.

“If you don’t tell me your name,” said Carter.  “I’ll call you Harvey.”

“After the film?” 

“Exactly.”

Shiva held her delicate hands above her head as if they were rabbit ears.  “Do I look like a six foot tall bunny?” 

“Figments of one’s imagination should have a name.”

Shiva pouted out her lip.

“No matter how cute they look when they pout,” said Carter and that made Shiva grin.  Then her face turned thoughtful as her hands dropped.

“You’ve been in this region before,” said Shiva.  “Haven’t you.”

It was not a question and Carter vacillated.  She was changing the subject, but he looked into her eyes, and they were wide and honest.

“Me and the Sarge, well, he was a corporal back then, we came out here six years ago with a platoon of Marines.  Loud kids blaring AC/DC,” said Carter.  “Then McMullins disappeared the first night.  Second Lieutenant said he went AWOL, but…”

“You knew better,” said Shiva softly.

“Just a gut feeling,” shrugged Carter.  “And then it went downhill from there.”

“You talking to yourself four-eyes?” asked the Sarge from down the hall.  Carter looked at him incredulously.  

“Four-eyes?” asked Carter waving at his bare face.  “Does it look like I’m wearing glasses?”  

“It’s almost nightfall,” said the Sarge seriously.  “We can’t get through for a chopper, and the troops deserve to know.”

“Crap,” said Carter.  He looked back into the storage room and saw that it was empty of pretty women in orange.  “Double crap.  Okay, let’s do this.”

“Seriously though,” said the Sarge.  “Should I be worried you’re seeing things?”

“She’s really pretty,” said Carter.

“Well, there’s that,” shrugged the Sarge with amusement.

***

“Six years ago, I ran into a nasty bunch of creatures out here, and it sounds like they’re coming back,” said the Sarge to his squad.  “They’re about four feet tall, big tusks and ears, nasty claws, wear leather and wool and oh, they smell like crap.”

“How many are there?” asked Perelli.

“I don’t know, but they bleed.  So, remember, fire short bursts,” said the Sarge.  “And…”

“Give it up!” cried a voice from the darkness outside.  The Sarge made a gesture and he and Perelli moved quickly to the front door that was closed.  Carter followed close behind.  The Sarge moved to the side of the door and opened it a little bit.

“Give what up?” called out the Sarge.  He could just make out figures on the other side of the street. With only a sliver of the moon, there was only a little light from the sky.

“Don’t toy with me,” said the voice.  “You must have come for it.”

The Sarge looked at Carter who just shrugged in bewilderment.  Sighing, the Sarge took out a flare and lit it.  Swinging open the door, he moved slowly out of the store.  He threw the flare and it hit near the far edge of the street. 

Illuminated by the flare’s angry red glow was a clutch of creatures.  Most yipped and backed away from the light, except one.  He was taller than the rest.  While he had their cruel features, his eyes glinted with intelligence.

“I am Veck,” said the creature.  “I have been sent to fetch it, and I will not go until it is found.”

“Still don’t know what ‘it’ is,” drawled the Sarge.

“You test my patience,” spat Veck.  “Give it to me, and we’ll let you have a head start.”

“Once more for the hard of thinking, WE DON’T HAVE IT,” bellowed the Sarge.  “Whatever the hell it is.”

“First round!” cried Veck as he shot back into the darkness.

A half dozen creatures ran out of the night.  The Sarge opened fire.  Carter grabbed the back of the sergeant’s coat and guided him back into the store.

“Well, that was interesting,” said the Sarge as they slammed the door shut.  “I just wish I knew what’d just happened.” 

***

Carter sat alone at the top of the stairs, to stay out of the way, while the Sarge shored up his troops.  He was leafing through a book from his satchel.  After a while, the Sarge walked up the stairs.

“Six years later,” grumbled the Sarge.  “And I still don’t know what those little bastards are.”

“There is a mythological beastie called the Al,” said Carter and the Sarge looked up in surprise.  “In Persia, they are short, nasty cannibalistic creatures like pigs that walk upright.”

“That sounds like our old friends,” said the Sarge.  “Persia is now Iran, right?  And that’s next door.”

“And I’ll bet monsters don’t care about borders,” said Carter.  

“Maybe.  Well, I better get back down so they don’t forget my beautiful face,” said the Sarge as he turned to go back down the stairs.

“You know, you’re having way too much fun playing this bad caricature of a sergeant you know,” said Carter.

“Caricature?” asked the Sarge, not looking back.

“Like a Saturday Morning Cartoon,” added Carter with a grin.

“I am, in fact, the biggest and the baddest sergeant ever, and don’t you forget it!” huffed the Sarge.

“Your name is Emmett, you hail from Ohio, and you threw up more than anyone else in boot camp,” replied Carter with a bemused conversational tone.

The Sarge burst out laughing.

“Old friends are dangerous,” rumbled the Sarge as he walked down the stairs, shaking his head in mirth.  

Carter did not move for a long moment, but then simply said, “I’m right about what’s out there, aren’t I.”

He somehow knew that Shiva was now seated on the floor behind him.  She sat with her long legs stretched out.  A toe poked out from underneath the niqab wearing a little silver ring.  The sight of that one toe was oddly alluring. 

“Yes,” she replied.  “We call them the Choss Nafas though.”

“Good to know,” said Carter.  “Am I the only one who can see you?”

“Oh no,” said Shiva with a happy laugh.  “The rest could see me, but I need to keep hidden.”

“That’s good!” chuckled Carter with relief.  After a moment, his smile disappeared.  “And, if I asked for help?”

“I’m forbidden to get involved,” said Shiva regretfully.

“Even a little?” asked Carter.  “There’s no wiggle room in the rule?”

“It is a two thousand year old edict that forbids interference,” said Shiva.

“Next you’re going to tell me that it’s the Edict of Corsica that forbids the influence of Angels and Djinn in human affairs,” laughed Carter.

“How do you know of that?” asked Shiva in surprise.

Carter blinked in surprise.  “I...I read it in an old book for my thesis.”  He thought for a moment as he processed this new information.  “Well anyway, it is good to have you to speak with.”

Carter did not see Shiva smile at this.

“THEY’RE BACK!” cried out Perelli with a tremble of fear.

“Remember short bursts!” cried the Sarge shouldering his weapon.  “Fire!”

The first floor was suddenly full of machine guns roaring.  Carter stiffened a little bit.  He had not heard that sound for a long time. 

 Jumping down the stairs, he ran to the nearest window.  A table had been set against the window leaving only a small space open.  Dixon knelt on the floor firing his weapon as Carter looked over his head.  

The creatures called the Choss Nafas ran across the street in a loose mob.  The monsters were still short and ugly.  On their heads they wore metal helmets that had a lit candle in the front.  Howling defiance, the creatures ran into the hail of bullets.  The Sarge put a bullet in one Choss Nafas which passed through it to kill another behind it.

And then there was no more.  Everyone stood there breathing hard.

“Well hell yea!” barked Perelli.

“Not yet,” said Carter.  He walked toward the center of the room, moving like a commanding officer.

“What?” asked Perelli.  “We kicked their asses again!”

“Dr. Carter’s right,” said the Sarge.  “Gills and Brook.  Check the back and then upstairs.  They’re sneaky bastards.”

Gills and Brook moved quickly toward the back as the remaining Marines scanned outside.  Dixon shouldered the table blocking the window aside.  He leaned out to get a better look outside.

“Dixon,” said Carter, his voice rising quickly.  “What’re you…”

A pair of arms reached down from above.  They snagged Dixon’s head.  Pulling the soldier up to it, the Choss Nafas yanked the marine partway through the window.  Carter sprinted and grabbed Dixon’s legs, trying to pull the Marine back in.  

Dixon shrieked with pain and terror.  Carter heard a sickening snapping noise and blood poured down Dixon’s back.  With a tremendous yank, the creature’s yanked Dixon out of Carter’s arms.  This pulled Carter halfway out of the window.  Another creature jumped for him, but the Sarge pulled the civilian back.  

“Thanks fo…,” started Carter when a third Choss Nafas jumped onto the window sill with a screech.  Before it could get in, Carter just gave it a swift kick and it flipped back out, hitting the ground hard.  “Damn little pests.”

Jessup and Perelli picked up the table and shoved it back in front of the window.  Carter stood. 

“Good work,” he said to Jessup and Perelli as he moved back to the front of the room.  He turned back to the rest of the squad.  “Okay people.  We need to be careful with these damn things.  They’re wily.  We’re going to need a fallback point.”

“Upstairs?” asked the Sarge with a bemused look.  The squad was looking at them in confusion.

“Probably best,” said Carter.  “And I need a litter for the LT so that we…”  Carter stopped, blinked, and then looked at the Sarge.  He glanced at the rest of the puzzled squad.  “Um, I just realized something embarrassing.”

The Sarge walked up to Carter who looked abashed.  

“‘Dr. Carter,” said the Sarge with his burly voice.  “If you give my people orders again—because that is my utter joy and privilege—I will hang you up by your pretty little toes.  But, that being cleared up, I do want your help as an advisor.”  Carter nodded and the Sarge looked back at his squad.  “Dr. Carter is here to help, and he is right about a fallback point.  I want food and clean water in there just in case.  Also, we do need a litter to carry our wounded LT.”

The Sarge saw Carter looking past him to the back of the building.  “What?”

“How long ago did those two Marines walk off?” asked Carter. 

The Sarge thought about it a second.  “Too long.”

Carter and the Sarge dashed down the hall towards the back of the store.  

A door burst open at the back of the corridor.  Brook staggered out.  He dropped his rifle as he tried to pry off a Choss Nafas that was stabbing at his throat with its tusks.

Jumping forward, the Sarge punched the Choss Nafas in the kidneys.  It reared back in pain and surprise.  The Sarge grabbed it by the back of its smelly sheep’s wool coat and swung it around.  He slammed it with bone-cracking force into a wall. 

Dropping the creature into a heap,  the Sarge dropped on his knees next to the fallen soldier and pulled off his keffiyeh scarf, pressing it to Brook’s hemorrhaging neck.   

“Hold on Brooks!” said the Sarge.  He called over his shoulder.  “Medic!”

The door, which was almost closed, slowly began to open.  Carter scooped up Brook’s rifle.

As the medic ran by to Brooks, Carter popped the rifle’s magazine and let it hit the floor.  Checking that the chamber was clear, he moved towards the door.  Flipping the rifle around, Carter held it by the muzzle like a golf club. 

In the doorway, a Choss Nafas appeared screaming defiantly.  Carter swung the rifle and caught the creature in the stomach.  It flipped backwards, rolling across the floor.  Carter’s eyes swept the room finding it covered in Choss Nafas.  Under a pile of them, Gills’ foot stuck out, motionless.

“Get out of here you bastards!” cried Carter as he swung the rifle wildly.  The Choss Nafas immediately started to scramble back.  “Go on!  Get out!  Git!”

Carter swung the rifle up in the air like a club, but it slammed into the low ceiling.  He was hit with a shower of plaster.  Sputtering out plaster dust, he stepped aside when one of the Choss Nafas leapt straight at his face.  He brought up the rifle to hold it off, but he had forgotten how strong they were.  As they twisted around the room, the Choss Nafas’ metal helmet flung off.  Suddenly, he felt another grab his leg.

“Oh, it’s going to be like that!” grinned Carter.  He leaned back as the Choss Nafas in front of him snapped his teeth, then he head-butted the creature.  It fell back stunned.  He swung the rifle and knocked the other one off his leg.  He stepped forward with a growl.  “Okay, which one of you bastards is next?” 

The Choss Nafas took one look at him and ran out of the back door, scrambling over one another.  However,  the one he had head butted was having trouble standing.  Carter hoisted the Choss Nafas up on its feet by the back of its smelly coat.  He ran it on the tips of its toes to the door and shoved it out. 

The creature stumbled out of the door.  It tried to walk towards the clutch of Choss Nafas, but fell to its knees halfway.  One of the creatures started to move back to the fallen one when it froze.

A new cry drifted over the town.  It sounded mournful, yet full of malice.  The clutch of Choss Nafas suddenly huddled together.  The lone creature that Carter had just thrown out made a keening noise.  It got up, but it was wobbly.  Oddly, Carter found himself moving forward to help it when something dropped down. 

Carter saw a formless white mass.  It was a mixture of hair and robes that dropped onto the clutch of Choss Nafas.  This new creature snagged a Choss Nafas and then shot off into the dark.  As the clutch of Choss Nafas screamed, more of these new things dropped on them plucking them off of the ground and taking them.  After less than fifteen seconds, the only one left was the Choss Nafas that Carter had thrown out. 

It looked back at him in surprise.

“Well, don’t look at me like that!” cried Carter.  “Run for the Goddamn hills!”

The creature took his advice and ran away quickly.  

Carter heard a hiss from above.  He did not look up as he saw a flash of white.  He jumped back and tried to slam the door shut, but an patsy white arm shot through.  Long black nails swished through the air nearly taking off Carter’s face.

“Drop!” called the Sarge from the hallway.

Carter hit the floor as the Sarge put two bullets into the arm.  The creature outside wailed in pain and pulled its arm out flicking syrupy blood against the wall.  As soon as the door was clear, Carter shoved his body against it.  After a moment, he sat upright and then turned the lock.  It was bigger than a standard-issue deadbolt, but it seemed like such a small lock under the circumstances.

“Thanks,” said Carter to the Sarge.

“What the hell was that?” asked the Sarge.

“I’m working on it,” said Carter.

Something hit the door and Carter froze.  After a moment, he heard nails scraping along the outside of the door.

“Don’t give it to them,” whispered a voice from outside.  “IT is ours.”

“Yeah,” said Carter.  “What is this thingee again?”

“Don’t play the fool!” snapped the voice.

“You and the piggie dudes really need to hug this thing out,” suggested Carter. 

The monster outside screeched loudly and he heard it fly off.

“Clear,” called out Carter.

The Sarge saw Gills body in the room.  He motioned to the medic, who was kneeling next to Brooks’ body.

“Gills,” said the Sarge.  The medic jumped up and ran into the room, but returned after a few moments.

“Gone.  Very gone,” said the Medic, looking a little pale.

“Can you tell Corporal Links up front that we might have a new player, so I want everyone watchful,” said the Sarge.

The medic hesitated and looked down at Brooks.

“It’s okay,” said the Sarge softly.  “You did the best you could.”

The medic didn’t look like he believed him, but he nodded and then ran up to the front.

The adrenalin was wearing off so Carter slowly sank to the floor looking down.  After a moment, he noticed delicate feet standing a little ways across the room from underneath an orange niqab.  She stood on the little pile of plaster, beneath the cracked ceiling.

“It just got worse,” said Carter.  “Didn’t it?”

“Yes, but you fought bravely,” said Shiva.  Carter turned his head so as not to look at Gills’ body, but then he saw Brook’s body.  The Sarge was still sitting next to it with a harrowed look, but then Carter thought of the rest of the squad.  They wanted to leave here alive.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Carter got up and looked at Shiva.

“I think it’s time you met one of my oldest friends,” said Carter.

For a moment, Shiva cocked her head at him, but then she nodded.

“Thank you,” said Shiva.  “I’d like that.”

Carter walked out into the hallway where the Sarge sat.  

“Emmett?” said Carter. 

 The Sarge looked up at him in confusion for a moment but then he focused on Carter.  He got up quickly.  “I need you to come in here for a moment.”

“Okay,” said the Sarge as he followed Carter into small room.  The Sarge started when he saw Shiva.  She still stood where Carter had last seen her.

“What the…,” said the Sarge.

“Emmett, this is my hallucination,” said Carter as he turned to Shiva.  “My Sweet, this chucklehead is Sergeant Emmett Foxbury who enjoys Mai Tais, long walks on the beach and, impersonating sergeants from movies past.”

“Impersonating?” said the Sarge with a growly sniff.  “I think of it as more of an tribute to Badass’ In The Past.”  But then the Sarge stopped and looked at Shiva.  “Um, I mean tough hombres in the past ma’am.  Sorry.”

Shiva just gave a smile and shook his hand.

“Delighted,” said Shiva.

The Sarge blushed a little and then cleared his throat.

“Um right,” he said.

“And we need to figure out what these yahoos are looking for, sooner rather than later,” said Carter.

“Especially since we now have a new player in the mix,” said the Sarge.

“Wait!” said Shiva, and the men both looked at her. 

 Carter could see that Shiva was desperately struggling with some hard, but unspoken problem.  The Sarge looked at Carter who put up one finger to say ‘hold on’. 

 Finally, Shiva spoke.  “Tell your people to douse all the lights.  That is the Khoshgel out there.”

“Seriously?” asked the Sarge, but when he looked at Carter, the archeologist nodded.

The Sarge leaned out the door.

“Perelli!” he shouted.  “Kill the lights.”

After a muffled reply, the lights started to dim.  The Sarge turned to look at Carter and Shiva.

“Now what the hell are Koosh-gels whatevers?” asked the Sarge.

“Those are the other Al, aren’t they?” asked Carter of Shiva.

“What?” asked the Sarge.

Carter looked back that the Sarge.

“There are actually two different mythological creatures called the ‘Al’,” said Carter.

“Oh great!” moaned the Sarge.

“One,” continued Carter in full-on lecture mode now.  “The Choss Nafas, are the short, nasty version that we all know and love.   The other are tall women with long nails like knives.  But while the short Al are from Iran, the myth of the tall Al is homegrown here in Afghanistan.”

“But the Choss Nafas have been leaving Iran in droves for a decade and heading East,” said Shiva.

“Which is when we first met them,” said the Sarge.

“But why are they on the move?” asked Carter.

“We don’t know and that is the truth,” said Shiva.  She screwed up her face and then stomped her foot kicking up plaster dust.  “Damn it.”

“What is it?” asked Carter in concern.  

“I...,” started Shiva but she struggled.  “I’m just frustrated.”

“Can we help?” asked the Sarge.

“It’s just...,” said Shiva.  “I was once the protector of a wide tract of land and this land was part of it.”

“And now she’s forbidden to interfere,” explained Carter to the Sarge.

“I understand,” said the Sarge and Carter gave him a questioning look.  The sergeant shrugged.  “My grandpa was a beat cop for a long time.  It was hard to retire.  He was not be able to interfere anymore and stop bad things from happening.”

“What did he do?” asked Shiva.

“Actually, he bought a gun and...,” said the Sarge, but he stopped with an uncomfortable look.  “Well, he interfered.  Maybe not the best example.”

“I am at that point,” said Shiva.  “I just can’t sit idly by.  Something bigger is going on here.  I can feel it.”  She stopped and then focused a glare at Carter.  “And you! You think you can come into this town and break it?”

“What?  I wasn’t trying…,” started Carter in surprise.  

“Enough, I don’t want to hear your lame excuses,” said Shiva pointing to the hole above her head.  “I mean, look at this ceiling.  Someone’s going to have to fix it.”

“I…I...,” stammered Carter, but then he stopped as he saw something.  He moved to where Shiva was.  He spoke to her softly.   “Forbidden to interfere, eh?”

“Interfere?” asked Shiva with an innocent look.

Carter carefully pulled out his folding knife, so as not to alarm Shiva, but she did not even flinch, fully trusting him.  He traced his fingers over the ceiling where plaster had cracked. 

Underneath the plaster was old metal which bore ancient writing.  “Curious.”  He stepped close enough to Shiva that his breath moved her hair.  It was hard to utter a word.  “Pardon me.”

“Reluctantly,” said Shiva and her voice was a little breathless too.

“What is it?” asked the Sarge as Shiva stepped back.

“I don’t know,” said Carter as he turned up to the ceiling and poked the plaster with his knife.  A chunk fell down revealing more of the metal underneath.  He dug at it with his knife for several minutes until he had found a circle of metal set into the stone.  Carved into the metal was delicate writing.  He fished out his IPhone and started scrolling through his apps.

“You’re kidding me,” said the Sarge.

“There’re a lot of languages out there,” shrugged Carter defensively.  “I didn’t have time to learn everything, except for maybe Sanskrit.”  He grinned at Shiva.  “Ladies love Sanskrit.”

She gave a little snort and then looked embarrassed for making such a noise.

“We’re all going to die,” moaned the Sarge.

“Shush,” replied Carter and then he looked up to Shiva.  “This writing ain’t going to decipher itself.”

“Quit your whining Brainiac and work faster,” said the Sarge.

“I’m not the one yapping like a purse dog,” said Carter without looking up as he scanned his dictionary of ancient languages.  Slowly the tension eased out of the room replaced by a restless boredom. 

Eventually, Shiva and the Sarge sat on the floor as Carter continued to translate.  Finally, he reached up to push three letters that look like all the others.

“Wait!” cried the Sarge.

“What?” demanded Carter.

“What about traps?” asked the Sarge.

“What traps?”

“You know, like pressurized salt acid.”

“That was ‘The Mummy’ you know.  A movie.”

“Could be something.”

“Let me tell you,” said Carter.  “The first day of Archaeology school, my professor...whose name was actually Dr. Jones...but his name was Doug.”  He added this loudly before the Sarge could comment.  “...He said that there were no traps in tombs.  Not really.”

The Sarge asked in a disillusioned voice.  “Poisonous arrows?” 

“Think of how tightly wound a crossbow would have to be,” said Carter.  “Over the years, the cord would lose its tension.”

“Oh,” said the Sarge sadly.

And Carter felt bad for him so he continued.

“That isn’t to say that there aren’t any traps,” said Carter.

“Really?” asked the Sarge perking back up.

“A pit for someone to fall into works wonders,” said Carter.

“That’s true,” said the Sarge cheerfully as he thought of ancient traps.  “Hard to mess up digging a deep hole.”

“Bet you and me could’ve, back at Basic,” grinned Carter and the Sarge gave a bark of laughter.  Even Shiva smiled. 

 Standing back, Carter touched the metal above finishing the sequence.  The metal plate whirred and for a second, Carter almost ran for it.  Dropping out of the hole, the metal plate clanged safely to the ground.  Inside was a dark hole.

“Anything?” asked the Sarge.  Carter took out a small flashlight from his vest and shone it inside.

“Hello?  What have we here?” asked Carter.  He reached inside and pulled out a small metal bottle.  The Sarge stood up and peered over Carter’s shoulder.  

“And more foreign words,” groaned the Sarge.

Carter looked at Shiva and smiled as he spoke to the Sarge.  “Well, now we know what they’re looking for.”

“Well, I better get up front,” said the Sarge.  “The kids have been alone too long as is.”

The Sarge went out of the room and Carter turned to Shiva.  He held out his hand to her.  After a moment, she skipped a little skip to him and took it.  They walked out of the room toward the front.

“Khoshgel,” murmured Carter.

“What?” asked Shiva.

“I was trying to remember what Khoshgel was in Farsi, it is Farsi right?”

“It is.  And it means ‘beautiful’.”

“Like you,” said Carter and Shiva smiled.  “So what does Choss Nafas mean?”

Shiva blushed a little.  “It means…’fart breath’.”

Carter burst out laughing.  “That’s awesome.  Wait till I tell the Sarge.”

They reached the edge of the darkened community room.  Carter could just make out the LT in the corner.

“Is the darkness going to work?” whispered Carter.

“Not forever,” said Shiva.

They walked over the LT.  Setting the bottle down, he knelt by the burned lieutenant in the dark.  The poor man wheezed softly, but slept.  Carter was wondering how long the pain medication would last when he heard an odd noise.  There was a snuffling sound outside a nearby window.  Carter slowly slid up.  There was a board over the window with only a tiny slot open. 

A piggish nose, covered in coarse hairs, sniffed at the tiny crack.  Carter waved at the Sarge and made a hand signal.  Shouldering his weapon, the Sarge moved over as they waited, breath held. 

Close by, a Khoshgel screeched and suddenly the Choss Nafas was running flat out.  It made it only ten feet until the Khoshgel bore it to the ground and took its head off.  Carter signaled the all-clear.

“There are too many,” said Shiva worried.

“Maybe we need a Plan B,” said the Sarge.

Carter unslung his satchel and put the metal bottle in it.  

“Please?” he asked of Shiva as he handed her the satchel.  She looked questioningly, but took the bag and slid it over her shoulder.

“What we need is a Plan B that doesn’t suck,” groused Carter.

Shiva looked at Carter askance.  “What do you mean?”

But Carter took a deep breath and locked on to the Sarge.

“Can I get a sack full of grenades?”

“We can do that,” nodded the Sarge and he went off.

“What are you planning?” asked Shiva.

“We need to even the playing field a bit,” said Carter.  “Scatter the enemy and make them lick their wounds.”

“With grenades?” asked Shiva.

“The dark will only protect us so long,” said Carter.  “This will buy us some time.”

“It’s stupid,” said Shiva crossly.

Carter smiled.  “I agree.”

“I’m going with you,” said the Sarge.

“Sergeant,” said Carter as he locked eyes with the Sarge.  “Your troops need you.  I’m expendable…”

“No you’re not,” said Shiva.

“…more expendable,” said Carter smoothly.  “Besides, it’s my stupid plan so I’m not sending anyone else out there.”  Carter looked squarely at Shiva.  “Don’t worry.”

Shiva sniffed as she scoffed at him.  “Don’t worry you say.  You’re walking out with a bag of grenades…”

“And two incendiaries,” supplied the Sarge.  Carter grinned at this.

“Nice!” he said making the Sarge grin.

“…and two incendiaries,” added Shiva crossly.  “And I’m not supposed to worry?” 

“Nope,” said Carter.

Shiva threw her hands up in exasperation.  “Men are crazy.”

“Don’t worry about him,” smiled the Sarge.  “It’s hard to kill this idiot.”

“Still not making me feel better,” said Shiva as she crossed her arms.

“Now where did I put my dental floss,” said Carter as he patted his pockets.

***

Carter slid out the back door of store and into the night.

“Don’t forget, curfew’s at 10 sharp,” rumbled the Sarge.

“Yes Dad,” grinned Carter sarcastically as the sergeant started to close the door.  Before it shut, Carter saw Shiva standing in a doorway trying not to look worried.  He gave her a reassuring smile as the door snapped shut.  

Then he was alone with a bag full of grenades.  

Really not one of my better plans, thought Carter ruefully.

The noise of the battle now seemed so close.  Turning, Carter moved along against the back wall.

A screech came from overhead and something hit the roof above.  A red wet figure rolled off the roof and flopped into the sand.  Carter crouched low trying to be invisible.  Then the figure moved.  With horror, Carter realized that it was what was left of a Choss Nafas.  The creature shook its head as if to clear it and then glared at Carter with eyes bright with fury.  

The Choss Nafas cried out and charged towards him.  Back against the building, Carter braced himself, ready to fight when one of the Khoshgel swooped in.  It soared over him and landed behind the Choss Nafas facing away from him.  The now headless body of the Choss Nafas took a faltering step forward and then flopped to the ground.

As the Khoshgel bent over to munch on the head, like a squirrel trying to crack a walnut, Carter slowly straightened.  He moved quietly to the edge of the building.  With little breath of relief, he turned around the corner and walked right in front of a clutch of Choss Nafas.

The Choss Nafas skidded to a halt crying in surprise.  Behind Carter, the Khoshgel’s head snapped up and it let out a cry.

“Well, that’s not good,” said Carter and he kicked the lead Choss Nafas in the chest.  It tumbled backwards taking the rest of the Choss Nafas with him.  Carter tore off running towards the truck.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Khoshgel had dropped its prize.  The ghostly woman shot into the air.  The Choss Nafas, for their part, were struggling to get up and howling into the night.  More howls answered.  

The Khoshgel above called out to its sisters in the night.  

Carter reached the truck that was now broken and covered in soot.  He scrambled up into the back as he heard the Choss Nafas draw close.  Running towards the cabin of the truck, Carter pulled on the plastic partition which was miraculously still intact.  But the partition would not slide aside.

Dropping the bag, he pushed on the plastic, but it was stuck in place.  There was snuffling outside at the back of the truck.  Carter swore under his breath as he jumped up and grabbed a beam across the roof.  Kicking with both feet, he smashed the plastic divider into the cabin while outside there came a howl.

The Choss Nafas scrambled up and into the back.  From above, a Khoshgel slid in and crawled upside down, across the roof.  Carter swung through the hole for the partition.  His feet hit the dashboard and he turned, twisting downward.  As the monsters charged him, he reached for the bag.  Hauling it up, a Choss Nafas grabbed it and nearly pulled him into the back of the truck.  Bracing a knee against the inside of the driver’s cabin, Carter pulled himself into the cabin still holding the bag.  He fished around inside it.

“Where the hell is it?” he muttered.  His hand grabbed something and he pulled it free letting go of the bag.  The Choss Nafas still holding the bag fell backward.  Carter grinned as he turned toward the driver’s door when a burned skull leered at him. 

“Gah!” cried Carter as he leapt back from the burnt remains of the driver, Smythe.  He started to feel embarrassed when he remembered what he had just left in the back of the truck.  Practically falling out of the passenger side door, Carter hit the sand running.  He was still holding onto a piece of dental floss tied to the pins of a dozen grenades and two incendiaries.

Even running flat out Carter did not get far enough.

The explosion knocked him flat on the ground.

Through the ringing in his ears he heard more Choss Nafas.  The blast had not gotten them all.  He reached forward and started to crawl.  But they were close, sniffing the night air.

Carter heard someone coming towards him.  He tried to move faster, but only half of his muscles were listening to him.  He managed to pull the folding knife in his back pocket, but fumbled getting it open.  It fell to the ground as something dropped down in front of him kicking up sand.  Carter braced for the attack.  

“You dropped your knife,” said Shiva in a concerned tone.  As the sand settled he saw Shiva crouching before him.  “Now up!  This is not a time for dawdling!”

Carter’s hand clutched the closed knife as he wobbled to his feet.  But more Choss Nafas rushed them.  Several of the pig creatures hit him broadside and knocked him over.  Leaping up, the Choss Nafas grabbed at Shiva’s arms.  They dragged her to her knees with their weight.

“Let me go,” demanded Shiva.

“I don’t think so,” said a raspy voice.  Out of the darkness came the Choss Nafas, Veck.  He had a little swagger in his step.  “You’ve been a bad Djinn, haven’t you?”

That caught Carter’s ear.

“I haven’t interfered,” declared Shiva.  “At least not much.  More like a nudge.”

“Broke the Edict, did you,” said Veck.

“Stretched it,” countered Shiva.  “But if you want to talk the Edict, I would have your men let go of me now.”

“Or what?” asked Veck.  “Now you’re going to tell me where Daizon is, or we eat you and have your boy for dessert.”

“Daizon?” gasped Shiva.  “That’s who is in the bottle?” 

“Who?” asked Carter trying to stall.  He was not sure he could crawl, much less run right now.

“That’s what I was told,” shrugged Veck.

“They did not even tell you what you are doing?” asked Shiva.

“My people aren’t exactly allowed at the table with the high mucky mucks,” said Veck sarcastically.  “Not even to serve drinks.”  Then he added in explanation.  “It’s the smell.”

“Who the hell is Daizon?” cried out Carter.  “I’m getting tired of being confused.”

“Daizon was one of The Three,” said Shiva softly.

“Three what,” said Carter.  “Sorry sweetie, I’m going to need more.”

“The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was not the judgment of God,” said Shiva.  “It was a weapons test by The Three who did not realize what they had built.”

“You’re not talking about Godfire, are you?” spat Veck in disbelief and shock.  “That’s a myth.”

“No,” said Shiva.  “It is real.  One Djinn created the device to fire it and other two designed the Godfire itself.  After the weapon was fired once, there was an uproar.  The weapon was destroyed and Three were locked away forever.”

“Now someone wants it,” said Carter. 

“Well, all that is interesting, but really...unimportant.  Now I need to know where that bottle is,” said Veck.  He looked at the Choss Nafas holding Shiva’s left arm.  “Bite her arm off.”

The creature on her left opened its mouth in glee and dove for her arm.  Veck chuckled.  Carter dug in and pitched himself up.  His hand tightened around his folding knife.  If necessary, he’d peel them off her one at a time.  Then her eyes gleamed bright.

Shiva became fire.  There was small shockwave and a sphere of fire roar out of her, but it moved around Carter like a warm breeze.  The Choss Nafas surrounding her were vaporized instantly except for small charred bits.  Veck was caught at the edge and knocked onto his back.  

Shiva stood up.

Moving slowly, she stepped toward Veck.  Her feet created glass footprints in the sand.

“You should have read the Edict of Corsica more closely,” said Shiva to Veck.  “I can not interfere, but I can defend myself.”

But Veck just laughed which turned into a deep, smoky cough.  The front of his body was badly burnt.  

“Duly noted.  But I can only read my own people’s language,” said Veck.  “And no one translated the Edict for us.”

“I assumed the leader of this force would be more widely read,” suggested Shiva.

“Leader?” gasped Veck with dark mirth.  “I’m not the leader.”

“But you speak for your people,” said Shiva.

“As a punishment,” said Veck.  “My people consider other languages unpure.  Only convicts are forced to learn the languages of barbarians.”

“Barbarians?” asked Carter, but Veck just stared up into the night sky.

“It was all over a little misunderstanding regarding a few items that just happened to be found in my hovel,” muttered Veck to himself as his eyes grew dim.  “Poor fate, if you ask me.”

Then Veck’s eyes emptied.

Shiva stepped away from Veck and was suddenly human again.  She bent down in front of Carter and put her hand out.  He flinched, but then saw that her eyes were wide and honest.  Slowly, he took her hand.  It was warm in the cool night air, but not overly so.

“Let’s get you back,” she said.

***

Back in the store, Carter walked heavily into the darkened room.  

“How is it?” he asked Perelli.

“Quieter now,” replied Perelli.

“Thanks,” said Carter as he looked at the Sarge. 

Carter steered Shiva over toward the wounded lieutenant.

“I want to stay near the LT to keep an eye on him,” said Carter.

“Of course,” said Shiva.  They sat near the LT’s head putting their backs to a wall.  Carter watched the LT breathe normally for a short time when he felt Shiva rest her head on his shoulder.  He turned back to Shiva and saw that she had closed her eyes.  With a smile, he looked out over the dark room.  He could barely see anyone, but he could still hear the small sounds of fighting outside.  Carter was determined to stay awake and keep guard.

***

Carter managed not to awake with a start.  He kept still as he looked around the room.  Sun streamed in the cracks illuminating the dust in the air.  Everyone was asleep, except for Perelli who still was on guard duty.  Outside it was quiet.  He felt a comfortable weight on his shoulder.  Carter’s arm wrapped around Shiva and she snuggled closer, still sleeping.

Turning to check on the LT, he saw that the rug they he had been laying on was empty.  Carter stilled and Shiva shifted.

“What?” she whispered.

“Where’s the LT?” asked Carter.

“Isn’t he…,” she asked as she looked over his chest. 

They saw a figure pass outside one of the barricaded windows.  Carter and Shiva quickly got up.  Across the room, Perelli stood straighter from where he guarded them.  They walked over to him.

“Have you seen the LT?” asked Carter.

“What?  He’s right over…” started Perelli in confusion.  Then he saw the empty rug.  “Where is he?  I was watching the whole group.  I didn’t…”

“It’s okay,” assured Carter.  “We’re going to look into this.”

Moving over to the Sarge, Carter kicked the man’s boot.

“Emmett,” hissed Carter.

"What the...," yawned the Sarge.

“The LT’s gone,” said Carter and the Sarge snapped upright.

"Could those little bastards have gotten him?" asked the Sarge.  

"Doubt it," said Carter.  "I was right next to him all night and Perelli was awake."

"Well, he can't just have walked out," said the Sarge when they heard a dark chuckle from the street.  

Cautiously, they walked to the front door and opened it.  There was no one outside but, some discarded bandages lay in the middle of the street.

The Sarge stepped out the door.  “This is…”

A Choss Nafas dropped from the top of store onto the Sarge.  It grabbed onto his upper back trying to find purchase.

“Get the hell off me,” cried the Sarge as he struggled.  Carter saw Perelli jump up.  The private would not reach the Sarge in time.  Carter grabbed the Choss Nafas’ feet.  He shoved upwards and the creature shot up and over the Sarge’s head.  Carter pulled the Sarge’s sidearm and fired twice.  The creature twisted in the air and then hit the ground, unmoving.

Perelli moved up to them, but hesitated as Shiva was still standing in the doorway.

“Pardon Ma’am,” he said in a gentile manner.  She stepped aside as Perelli slipped past them holding his rifle on the creature as Carter returned the Sarge’s gun to its holster.  But it just lay there quietly bleeding.  Nudging it with his boot, Perelli pushed the Choss Nafas on its back.  Its left eye was a ruined mess.

“Good shot,” said Perelli.  “But you only hit it once.”

“Did he?” asked Shiva with a hint of dark amusement.

Perelli gave her a funny look and then knelt down.  There were two overlapping holes in its head. 

“Damn,” said Perelli looking at Carter.  “I thought you said you couldn’t use guns.”

“I don’t use guns,” shrugged Carter.  “I never said I didn’t know how to use them.”

The Sarge’s head snapped up towards the sky as he heard a familiar sound.  

“Chopper,” he cried out.  They all moved out into the street to look for the helicopter.  Shiva leaned in close to Carter.

“What happens now when the chopper arrives,” asked Carter softly.

“I don’t know,” whispered Shiva.  “But I owe you this.  My name is Shiva.”

And Carter smiled.  “A Djinn who is a goddess?”

“One of the reasons for the Edict of Corsica was that my brethren, especially in Greece, had gotten,” she started, and then mulled over the right words.  “...Too full of themselves.”

A little laugh rolled down the street.  They looked up to see the lieutenant suddenly standing in the middle of the street.  Without taking his eyes off the LT, Carter’s hand found Shiva’s.  

The burned man was looking away from them towards the East.  The bandages on his head were gone.

"Are you ready?" chuckled the LT.  His voice sounded odd and distant.

"Ready?" asked Carter in confusion.  "Ready for what?"

The LT turned his burned face to look at them and smiled.  His skin crackled as it moved.  There was a shift in the air and suddenly the LT was breaking apart like burnt newspaper, floating on the air.  With a swirl, the ash that was the LT shot off on the wind drifting East.

"Well, that's not good," said Carter.

Fin