Jurassic War

Seventeen

The bicycle tires got caked in mud and slowed Tanaka’s progress to the garrison. Swerving around puddles in the road from the rainstorm, he tried to avoid the sides of the lane as much as possible. He worried about what lurked in the jungle.

Eventually, he came upon the location where a giant beast had attacked the transport truck. The dinosaur had stood eight feet tall, but it extended about twenty-five feet in length. It had large, plate-like scales measuring about an inch wide, covering the entire hide. Muddy ruts remained where the truck had stopped. Now, the furrows were filled with water and being stippled by the light rain. A swath of disturbed brush led into the jungle where the Carnotaurus had dragged off its spoils.

Tanaka didn’t stop to inspect the scene long and found himself pedaling frantically. He knew the chance of a repeat attack in the exact same place was unlikely, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind that predators typically roam the same geographic areas. He kept his eyes peeled on the foliage along the roadside, watching for any movement, but the only thing he glimpsed was beads of water dripping off the palm fronds.

Further along, he encountered movement on the lane. Tanaka stopped and reached for his rifle. A few natives ran up the road, heading for their huts to wait out the conflict. He allowed them to pass, then he continued on towards the Imperial stronghold.

Soon he reached the garrison and foot soldiers lingered outside. The Gocho and Jun-i were huddled with a few senior infantrymen, talking intently. Foot soldiers wandered in and out of the barracks, likely using the facilities and getting water after the conflict at the beach.

He rolled to a stop and leaned the bike against a wall.

The Jun-i waved him over. An impatient countenance registered on the warrant officer’s face, so Tanaka doubled-timed towards the leadership group. He stopped and huffed for breath.

“What took you so long to get back?” The Gocho shook his head.

“The truck left without me, while I was clearing the men from the beach.” Tanaka shrugged and pointed to the bicycle. “I had to pedal here. And I encountered resistance along the way. Then the beachhead exploded again with gunfire.”

“After your detail left?” The Jun-i pressed.

Tanaka nodded. “Yes.”

“What was the second engagement about?” The Jun-i addressed him.

“I cannot be sure.” Tanaka shook his head and motioned with his palms upward.

“That was very heavy gunfire.” The Gocho shook his head. “You didn’t see anything?”

Tanaka thought about the creature on the path. He didn’t dare say a word about it, afraid the warrant officer would think him insane. “I cleared our soldiers from the beach, planning to regroup for another attack slightly inland.”

The Jun-i nodded as if in agreement with the approach.

“A foot soldier ran up the path from behind me. The young Hetai disrupted a lizard, then the firing erupted from the beach. Perhaps the Americans saw the movement in the jungle and fired nervously.”

Staring at him intently, the Jun-i seemed to register something; diffidence. But he did not reveal his thoughts. He merely nodded. “Okay, you have done well. Now, go clean yourself up and get some water. There is plenty more fighting to be done before the night is over.”

Tanaka bowed and then trotted off toward the barracks.

When he stepped inside, his friend greeted him. Osamu had a worried look in his eyes and lingered by the doorway, as though he were unable to bring himself to step outside. Tanaka stopped and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “What has you concerned?”

Osamu shook his head, not wanting to speak. “Nothing.” He didn’t sound convincing.

“The fighting was harsh tonight, but they took us by surprise. We will do better the next time around, when we catch them moving through the underbrush.”

“My concern is not with the Americans…”

“The creatures?”

Osamu nodded.

“Well, I saw one and it is dead. And I expect the Americans killed others.”

“There are many more.” Osamu shook his head intently.

“I heard a big one yesterday, and saw two today, but I’ve never seen them before.” Tanaka considered the young man. “You wouldn’t think the Imperial Army would send us here if there were many more.”

“Tanaka, you have combat experience in Manchuria. But you have not been on this island for very long.”

“What are you saying?”

“There are many more of them. And there is a big one, bigger than the one that we saw today.” A sullen look crept over Osamu’s face. “We’ve been capturing the natives and sacrificing them to the large one, hoping to keep it from attacking us.”

“You cannot feed a wild creature like a pet,” Tanaka said, stepping away to fetch some water. “All they have done is provided it with a taste for human flesh.”

He walked past idle troops into the restroom and turned on a faucet. Splashing water on his face, it felt cool and refreshing. Tanaka glanced in the mirror. He looked haggard from waking in the middle of the night and drained from the battle. Grime circled his eyes.

Tanaka reached for the soap and lathered it up in his hands. As he washed his face, a bang resounded from the barracks, like a tank battering through a wall. Americans, he thought. But how could they get inland so fast?

Wiping himself off with a towel, he unslung his rifle and ran into the sleeping quarters, readying himself for gunfire.

Beds toppled over, and metal screeched the concrete floor. Soldiers fled in various directions. Tanaka expected a machinegun to open fire on them. He shouldered his rifle and scanned the wall for the opening and expected the nose of a tank to nudge forward with a mini-gun trained on them. But the green plates were not an allied weapon.

The Carnotaurus had poked its head through the broken wall, merely constructed of dried fronds and thatch. It snapped its mouth, flashing sharp teeth, and dripping with saliva. The aggressive movement had toppled the sleeping racks.

It seemed to be scanning the open squad bay for prey.

Soldiers ran in sundry directions, ducking for cover under beds and bolting for the door. Nobody stood their ground, despite carrying rifles. A few had even dropped their weapons.

Tanaka stepped into the fray, shouldering his rifle. He took aim at the creature. “Assemble. Prepare to fight!”

A couple of soldiers made it to the door and ran outside. Others stayed hidden under the bunkbeds. Tanaka shook his head and took aim at the creature’s left eye. He squeezed the trigger and the rifle let out a loud crack. It kicked hard into his shoulder.

The bullet pinged into the dinosaur’s cheek. It roared in pain and hostility. And then, it broke through the wall entirely. Standing before them, it lowered its head and let out another menacing roar. It flicked its tail and a set of steel beds crashed over.

It took two large steps, and lengthy claws crimped into the smooth concrete floor.

Tanaka readied himself for another shot, and a few infantrymen stood to face the creature. It meant to kill them and so fighting might be their only hope.

“Now!” Tanaka commanded.

Everyone fired at once. Rounds dug into the creature’s hide; its yellow eyes opened and shut rapidly. A primal ferocity emanated from its orbs. Spent gunpowder wafted through the room. Osamu struggled to work his bolt, trying desperately to chamber another round.

Another step into the barracks. Then the creature let out the fiercest roar of the night. It swung its head roundhouse into the nearest rack, sending it sliding across the room. Two soldiers were crunched on the floor into balls, exposed to the menacing beast. Faces cast in fright, they remained frozen, as if hoping the beast would turn its attention elsewhere.

The Carnotaurus leaned forward and sniffed near the closest soldier.

Pausing for a moment while the young man trembled with fear, the creature seemed to absorb the apprehension. It breathed in the scent of its prey, then lunged at the closest soldier. Latching on to the man’s back, it raised the solider into the air, then shook him violently.

As it whipped the soldier side to side, the man’s eyes bugged out, and he screamed in agony. Massive jaws clamped down on the soldier’s torso, muscles tensing around the creature’s massive head, until a brutal snap resounded throughout the barracks. Viscera oozed through cleaved flesh and jagged bones, and blood leaked onto the floor. The man’s bulging eyes suddenly cast into a state of death. And his screaming ceased abruptly.

The beast gave the carcass another shake for good measure. And then, it backed through the opening in the wall. Its dark hide slipped into the night as the pounding of primal feet marked its departure. A rhythmical egress trotted off with its spoils.

A moment later, soldiers rushed into the barracks dripping wet from recent precipitation. The Gocho tarried in after them. He glanced at the wall then looked at Tanaka. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“A creature from the jungle broke through. It took a private.”

The Gocho perused him for a moment, as though trying to determine the veracity of Tanaka’s comments. “This was not the Americans?” The corporal pointed at the broken wall. “Not an attack?”

“No. A wild beast from the island.”

Nodding, the Gocho appeared convinced, but continued: “Why the shooting?”

“We tried to kill the creature. It was quite large and dangerous.”

“Next time… aim better!”

Tanaka gave a slight bow in deference to the Gocho’s command position.

“Assemble in front of the barracks.” The Gocho adjusted his jacket, then turned to leave. “Move out. Now!”

Slinging his rifle over a shoulder, Tanaka ran for the door and hustled outside. A heavy downpour sent a deluge of rain over the atoll. His boots caked in mud up to the puttees. He expected the entire garrison would now mobilize to face the invaders.

Outside, the troops gathered in formation while the Jun-i and Gocho faced them. Rain beat down on their helmets and puddled in crevices forged into the mud by their combat boots. Tanaka stood at the end of the first line. Ranks of infantrymen ran five-deep. All the Hetai on the atoll were in the formation. They eagerly awaited instructions.

Tanaka wanted to get on with it, face the Americans and engage in an all-out battle. He worried more about the beasts than enemy bullets.

Standing in front of the barracks, they were easy prey for the large beast. It seemed impervious to their bullets and undaunted by the soldiers and their rifles. Tanaka considered the beast’s flight after each encounter. Watching the creature retreat into the jungle, he’d assumed that the rifles firing, and presence of troops had scared it away. Now, he realized the Carnotaurus had only fled once it had secured a victim. Perhaps it took off on instinct, merely to avoid sharing its spoils with others. The beast wasn’t frightened of them, but rather greedy over its booty. It wanted to feed.

When the last solider dawdled into formation, the Jun-i came to attention. The Gocho stood beside him, stern. “Listen,” the Jun-i said. “We have threats from all angles. Creatures abound on this island, and the recent battle has disturbed them. And we have the Americans who’ve landed on our shore.”

All the soldiers listened intently. Some appeared worried about their first time in combat, while others who had already been down at the beach with Tanaka seemed ready to get on with it. Those soldiers who had now faced battle and come out of it unscathed fidgeted with their rifles and occasionally glanced at the muddy ground. And the others stared at the warrant officer, locked at attention, without movement. Seldom blinking their eyes.

“Everyone will board the transport truck and we’ll meet the Americans who will venture onto the road. They are likely on a seek and destroy mission. Our fuel dumps are a key asset for the Imperial Army.” The Jun-i motioned past the barracks. “We must protect our resources at all costs. They will likely attempt to destroy our infrastructure, buildings and roads.”

A shot rang out from the far end of the island, away from the landing area.

“They have come ashore in two locations!” The Jun-i explained the shot. “We will divide our troops. The Gocho will take a squad to the far end of the atoll. And I will lead the rest of the garrison to meet the main landing party.”

As the Jun-i paused, the corporal scanned the troops. His eyes locked on Tanaka.

Tanaka began to step forward, motioning to members of his squad. But the Gocho waved him off with derision. He pointed to several less seasoned infantrymen and they moved into a separate assembly.

“Whoever cannot fit into the transport will grab a bicycle,” the Jun-i continued. “And if you cannot get onto either of them… you run!”

The Gocho addressed his squad. “We will all move on foot. No bicycles or trucks for you.” He sneered at them and then ran for the tree line. Moving swift and strong, he looked like he could run all day, carrying just a sword and Nambu pistol. His squad trudged after him, lugging canvas knapsacks (Hai-nou), Sanpachi 38 rifles, while their mess tins (hangou) and canteens clanged with each parting step. The soldiers’ helmets tilted from side to side with each lumbering stride.

As the Gocho’s squad plodded off, the Jun-i paced in front of the remaining soldiers. He looked them over while rain poured down on his cap, running over the visor, and dripping to the ground in rivulets. Streams of water cascaded from the warrant officer’s field hat, partially obscuring his dark, piercing eyes.

Tanaka could still feel them staring at him intently.

“Your men from the earlier attack will ride in the transport,” the Jun-i finally said.

Tanaka gave the warrant officer a slight bow.

“We will see how many others can fit into the truck. A few can ride on the sideboards. Everyone else will either ride a bicycle or run.” He paused to look them over. “Those of you traveling on foot can cut through the brush. You’ll head toward the big lagoon. But keep in mind the Americans are not likely on the beachhead. They will be headed inland towards our garrison, and likely on their way to the fuel tanks.”

“Should we have some men guard those positions?” This from a superior private.

“A good plan if we had enough soldiers.” The Jun-i smiled proudly. “No. We will throw everything we have at them, intercepting the Americans before they get there. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone replied in unison.

“Good.” The Jun-i nodded, pleased. “If they get through our lines, then you soldiers riding on the truck will retreat to the fuel dumps. And the soldiers on foot and bicycle will fall back and protect the garrison.”

The formation fell into silence. Some fidgeted and appeared to have questions for the warrant officer, but they remained reticent, afraid to draw a harsh response.

“Some of you might be thinking about our comrade who got dragged off by the beast.”

Most of them nodded to affirm their concern. Tanaka noted fear in their eyes, as though they were more scared of the creatures than the Americans. Others registered sorrow for the soldier’s loss, and perhaps concern for his soul.

“When the battle is over, we will regroup and find his remains. So he can be honored with his ancestors. Every fallen solider will be treated accordingly.”

The warrant officer’s words resonated with the troops. Relief spread across their faces. Tanaka realized their fear did not concern death by the Americans or the dinosaurs, but rather apprehension of being dragged off and forgotten, with no way to flourish in the afterlife. The Jun-i’s comment reassured everyone that the Imperial Army would ensure their remains would be found and dignified, honored.

Then the Jun-i climbed into the scout car, an all-wheel drive Kurogane Type-95. He took the passenger seat and a solider slid behind the wheel. The Yonki raced off down the road.

Soldiers from Tanaka’s unit piled into the rear of the transport, taking up positions on bench seats running along both sides of the truck. When the men were packed into the truck, Osamu climbed inside and took the last spot near the tailgate.

Tanaka shut the gate and climbed into the front passenger seat. A soldier jumped on the running board by his door, and another slid behind the wheel.

The truck grumbled to life and pulled away from the garrison. Various infantrymen plodded along the muddy lane on bicycles with rifles strung across their backs. Others ran down the road carrying their Arisaka rifles at port arms. Rain danced on the canvass top covering the truck bed and pattered off the steel roof of the cab. The transport jostled over the desolate lane as it accelerated and shifted gears.

Tanaka gripped his rifle tightly, readying himself for the convergence with the opposing forces. Glancing out the windshield, he scanned the tree line for menacing yellow eyes, which might lurk among the palm fronds.