*Ghosts

Intro: This story comes from a character in a novel I'm working on. I've done this for almost every novel I've written and I never intend to write any of them when I start. Garth is a voice of reason for the other characters but the more I write the more I realize he holds a key to what is really going on in the war between the aliens and the humans. If only he knew that.

Every night, the night sky contained a new flashing light. The alien ships crossed the sky faster than any plane and remained a constant light. The ships posed no immediate threat and Garth knew there wasn't anything they could do about them anyways. The humans didn't have aircraft anymore.

Garth leaned back against the rock, his gun across his knees as he watched another light rise over the mountains and pass above him. He waved and one of the other soldiers humphed.

"You look like an idiot," Ryder said.

Garth didn't reply. He kept his gaze on the horizon. It kept his mind occupied.

"The snappers aren't coming," another soldier said sitting down on a nearby rock. He let the butt of his gun rest against the ground.

"What makes you so sure, Marcus?" Ryder asked.

"How they going to find us out here, in the middle of nowhere? It's not like there was anything interesting here before the snappers invaded."

"That's what I thought at the last base," Ryder said.

Garth's ear pricked up. Ryder rarely spoke about his last base. All anyone knew about Ryder was the last base he was stationed at had been destroyed by the snappers. They'd found Ryder wandering in the deserted wasteland nearly three weeks earlier.

"And what exactly did happen at your last base?"

The silence stretched for nearly a minute.

"Wasn't pretty. The beasts came out of nowhere. A few blasts from their fighter ships then a deployment of foot soldiers from a transport ship. Everyone died."

"So how did you get here?" Marcus asked. "Or are you some ghost an alchemist dragged back?"

Though Garth couldn't see his face, he could picture the sneer twisting Marcus's mouth. A sneer often plastered Marcus's face.

"Ghost?" Ryder said.

That was not the answer Garth expected. Everyone knew about ghosts. Garth didn't want to be brought back. He'd rather stay dead.

"Are you stuck in the 24th century or something? Ghosts, you know. Sprits the alchemists bring back."

Garth tuned out the rest of the conversation content to stare at the stars. Every so often he glanced down at the base in the valley. A few shapes moved around the buildings. Tomorrow night, he would be one of those shapes. Guard duty was uncomfortable at the best of times, and this particular duty was on a voluntary basis and not everyone had volunteered. That created contention without all of the stress from worrying about the snappers attacking.

"Ghosts, how interesting. I will have to look into that," Ryder said, tilting his head to the side.

"We don't have any alchemists at the base but some are sure to come soon. They're required to enlist for a year."

Ryder looked up at the sky and then moved to sit on the ground next to the rock. Garth watched him as Ryder ducked his head. A blue light lit up the sky and the barracks exploded. The ground where they sat nearly a quarter of a mile away rocked with the impact.

"Gorefest," Marcus spat scooping up his weapon and taking cover behind the rock.

Garth clutched his gun and ducked as another explosion smashed into the ground. He glanced in the sky. A flaming black shadow above them fell towards earth. Its descent was stopped momentarily and another shadow in the dark exploded. Glass rained down. The clear shards sliced through his clothes and skin, leaving thin red lines which welled blood almost instantly. He could hear Marcus cursing behind his own rock and glanced at Ryder. The man stared up at the sky, ignoring the still falling glass as the ships plummeted towards them.

"Come on," Garth called, climbing to his feet and rushing towards the barracks.

The barracks still burned but it seemed safer than being at ground zero when the two ships crashed to the earth. Other men ran beside him, faceless shapes in the dark. The air stank with their combined terror. The ships crashed. The world buckled. Garth flew forwards into the sand, between two boulders. Marcus wasn't so lucky and Garth turned away from the body.

Great fires bloomed behind him. He turned, shielding his eyes with his hands. Snappers moved out of the ship. He could see the dual-tail claws dancing in the firelight. A human shape walked from the fire, unscathed. Garth raised his gun, pointing it at Ryder and fired.

One alien snapped from two legs to four and charged. Garth let out a scream of rage as the snapper attacked. He fell to the earth, the strength leaving his body with his blood.

Ryder walked up and bent down."You want to know how the last base I was stationed at fell? You just learned."

Garth watched the snappers swarm towards the base. He focused Ryder until his vision blackened.

A bright light pulled at him, and Garth felt warmth spread through his body. He opened his eyes and stared at the young man kneeling in front of him.

"What happened?" Garth asked, licking his lips. Everything looked a little faded and he appeared to be inside the snapper ship. Someone must have dragged him in here. He glanced at the floor and noticed the archaic signs through his translucent body. He felt like vomiting.

"Welcome to the recon division of Clash," a soldier said moving forward. "Everything will be explained, but we need to move quickly."

He followed the man outside racking his memory. Holes peppered his memory, especially around his death. Another man waited outside next to a truck.

Garth moved forward to get a better look but stopped when the soldier said, "Stay away from Commander Ryder. You sit in the back, with Fligg."

Something tugged at him. He pictured a man walking through flames but nothing else came to mind. He climbed into the truck with the alchemist and they sped away into the dark night. Being a ghost was worse than he imagined.