"Ghosts!" a man screamed, pointing a trembling finger into the yellow fog.
"They aren't ghosts, you idiot! It's just gas!" Moon yelled back. Her voice was sharp, but her own heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The shapes didn't listen. They began to circle the army, their translucent bodies flickering in the heat. These were the Sulfur Sirens_ creatures born from toxic fumes, volcanic waste and whatever mutated beast the fumes had engulfed and turned into air. They looked thin, glowing, and very, very hungry.
Moon quickly pulled out her scarf and tied it tightly over her mouth and nose. Her eyes darted around the blinding white desert. "Cover yourselves! Do not breathe in the air if it has a shape." she warned, her voice muffled by the fabric. She had not come across these things, but she had heard stories. Back then, she had been sold as a sex slave, so she had bigger problems than gossip from the outside world.
