GENRE: Thriller (set in England)
As he expected, nothing had happened since they started their watch; this was, after all, an exercise in futility.
Nevertheless, Lance-Corporal Nick Brady continued scanning the fields below, watching the wheat stalks bob and jostle in the occasional breeze as if a giant, invisible hand absently caressed them. Brady craned his neck from side to side to relieve the stiffness and looked down at Private Pete Miller, who was both a soldier under his command and his childhood friend.
Tonight, the full moon illuminated their hilltop position, reflecting on the silvery grass where Pete was lying. They would break camp before morning, once again leaving no sign of their nighttime presence.
Although he cradled binoculars in his lap, Pete gazed unaided at the valley below. His wedding ring glinted in the moonlight as he lifted a freckled hand to cover a wide yawn. "I'm shattered. What d'ya reckon?"
"Me? I'm wide awake." Brady turned his back to Pete. "Because surely any minute now, creatures from outer space are going to land, give us a wave, and say, "Oi lads, wanna come have a look-see?"
"Sod it, Brady! I've said I'm sorry. I didn't know we would both get stuck doing nutter duty."
Brady exhaled in a gusty sigh. Although it was Pete's fault they were out here, it had been three days now, and it was probably time to forgive him. "Fine, mate. But, fair warning, I'll not get in trouble for you ag-"
A distant squeal of tires interrupted him.