The Retirement

“This place is scary.”

“I know, you expect them to pop up right out of the fog. I for one am glad we’re out of here.”

“It’s like they’re not human by the way they do things—appear out of nowhere and kill our guys, then they’re gone.”

“Shut up, you guys,” said the patrol leader, “and follow me back to the cabin. They’re nothing but a bunch of freaks.”

The squad leader started off toward the cabins and didn’t see several of his people make faces at him. They followed him single file, looking carefully around while they left the forest for the meadow. Once they were out of sight, the shadowy figures seemed to rise from the fog next to where the patrol had been standing. One of them, Becky, looked around at her companions and saw most of them putting knives back into their scabbards. She looked at Jon as he put his away less than ten feet from her. He shrugged his shoulders, smiling weakly. He then motioned for the group to move out.

She turned to Reardon, who had been tasked to keep her safe. “You guys are scary—they were less than two feet from us and none of you moved. Why the knives?”

Reardon motioned for O’Keefe to move out behind Jon.

“Scary we are, ma’am. We take pride in being ghosts to the enemy. Freaks, we’re not. The knives were to make them suffer if the boss gave the word.”

Becky knew better than to press that conversation and followed the rest of the team into the fog.