I was getting comfortable in the uncomfortable backseat. Being cramped against 2 big guards, I just started using them as giant pillows. They hardly even jabbed at me. It was the most pleasant night of sleep in a while. The sky was marvelous. It reminded me of the first night the king let me feast. The moon was full that night…

And now I was back outside exposed to stars.

Feeling the breath of the earth again

On my back and on my arms

seeing the way the fields

the rocky, sandy fields

scuttled around and

flickered the moon

washing a light on

the crusty ridges

along the fields

meat-grinders

the war fields

killing zones

blood baths

tombstones

lights flickers….

lights were flickering.

Wait, lights were flickering in the distance. Blue lights.

Large blue lights. Not very powerful, but faint and blue. They were glowing out in the distance. They were tall. Narrow and tall.

They looked like.

People.

Maybe a quarter mile out, maybe more, there were human-sized blips flickering in the moonlight. They must have been sign posts, except they were moving.

Wafting in the ridges, moving with energy. With life. They moved like UFOs.

Like tiny UFOs.

People UFOs.

Ghosts.

They were scattered. Few and far between. There were 6 I could see, ranging in size.

They were dead. They were the people of this war. The casualties. No fucking way.

How many, many battles, big and small, were fought out in these deserts since 2001? Since… history?

How many died for their god, or their country?

And there they were.

I didn’t see 72 virgins, not in this desert. Maybe they weren’t Muslims. Who knows, they might have been hallucinations. They were just stuck in the desert, unknotted energy. Probably still fighting their own private war.

The window went down. The guard pulled his AK out the window. The Zeb-Rover was moving about 30 mph on the gritty terrain. The headlights were cut. I assumed it was so satellites couldn’t track us. This dude was about to play target practice.

A loud snap swung through the cabin. LOUD. Followed by many more bursts. The shells flew out the window, instead of into my face. The tracer rounds lit up the black air of the night. They hit the blue blips.

But nothing happened. They might as well have shot a cloud. The figures continued. They were unphased by bullets. These things. These ghosts.

I saw the guard’s eyes. Fear came to him. He was seeing what I was seeing. The guard looked hopeless. His gun was meaningless. It gave me hope. There was a beauty in death. Who knew, I might join those blue blips soon.

As the moon fell behind the clouds, it whisked away the soldier ghosts. The night continued, unphased, until the sun splashed onto the sand. When I could see the King finally in the passenger seat, I saw his face. He didn’t look worried. He looked like he was a little sad. What was this dude thinking about?