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Childs was very pragmatic about these things. He was willing to understand the aliens— he had to, after all— but this was entirely different. He glanced at MacReady, then at his own corpse, rotting skin and all. It was all too real to be a hallucination. A loud wind passed through him, the feeling almost sending a chill down his spine. Almost. He couldn't touch or feel or leave any marks. Nothing except for his body, and the camp, showed that he ever existed. There was no way of knowing how long it would be like this.
OR...
Neither of them were the Thing, but both of them became ghosts.