Drive In Tales Summer 2015 | Page 47

Private First Class James Wallace was being mirrored with every step he took through the hot desert. The thin, scruffy young man was fully aware but knew it was useless to react in any way. It was normal, he had discovered in his three months in Iraq, for gangly, pale creature known as camel spiders to follow along the soldiers on their patrols through the desert, residing in the cool shadow of each U.S. serviceman. They were hideous beings, but Private Wallace knew that war meant with dealing with hideous things.

Hideous things very much like the scene the small patrol stumbled upon, an eerie disaster amidst the calm of the desert. A Jeep was overturned, smoking. What looked like gear and supplies, along with a few bodies, was strewn across the burning sand.

“Search the wreckage, see if there are any survivors,” the sergeant ordered. “Keep an eye on those hills to the west for enemy insurgents. I want every item noted, Corporal Smith.”

Corporal Cam Smith, a broad chested, though not exceptionally tall individual, nodded and began taking inventory of what was at the scene in a pocket sized black notebook.

TANNER - SANDS OF BABYLON

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