Jurassic War

Twenty-One

Tanaka heard rifles blasting and the transport came to a halt. A soldier jumped from the running board. Tanaka opened the door and climbed down, stumbling to the ground. Mud broke his fall. He scrambled to his feet. Breaking around the hood of the truck towards the commotion, he looked up and a slaughter came into view.

A bicycle lay on the ground and the Carnotaurus had a soldier’s head in its mouth, with the man’s body hanging limp, like a rag doll. Another infantryman was splayed out on the lane, cleaved open at the waist. He wailed in pain.

The creature shook its prey, then a loud crack resonated across the roadway.

Snapping bone and gunshots resounded, almost in unison. Blood gushed from the open neck wound and spilled onto the ground before the creature’s immense feet. More rifles fired as Tanaka took up position alongside his comrades. But the Carnotaurus continued to shake the body, as though it sought to exsanguinate the corpse.

They needed to repel the beast. It had gotten a taste for human flesh and would menace them unless it suffered harm. Steadying his aim, Tanaka fired at an eye.

The bullet dug into thinner skin below the left socket. Dropping the solider, it shook its head and roared in agony. Soldiers piled out of the back of the truck and joined the fray. And then, the creature plodded towards the line of soldiers firing at it.

Lowering its head, the beast charged like a bull, whipping its head back and forth, as it hurled soldiers from side to side, piercing a few with its deadly horns.

It stampeded down the line and reached Tanaka in a moment. Eyes burning with rage, it stopped before him. The heat of its breath emanating from its muzzle, and the moisture of saliva dripping from enormous fangs, caused Tanaka to stand rooted in place. The dinosaur meant to slaughter him.

A blood smeared maw, it opened its mouth preparing for another kill.

Tanaka backpedaled as the beast treaded closer. It closed in on him. A gunshot disrupted the silence. The Carnotaurus glanced back at the assailant, Osamu, then it lowered its head and charged into Tanaka, simultaneously colliding into him while jerking its head to the side. It pitched Tanaka to the far edge of the road, then turned and trotted towards it spoils.

Grasping the torso of the severed infantryman and a leg of the corpse with the crushed skull, the creature broke into the underbrush and disappeared into the jungle.

Tanaka lay on the ground with pain flaring from his side. He’d recognized the shot as a Nambu pistol. A moment later, the Jun-i crouched by him looking concerned. “How are you?” he said, trying to assess the harm.

“Think it broke my ribs, but I’ll be okay.”

“Broken ribs can be serious. You could head back to the garrison and wait this one out.” The Jun-i paused. “No dishonor in it. We need you for the balance of the war. You are a prospect for Gocho one day.”

Tanaka rose up on his elbows. “I cannot leave my comrades.”

“You can guard the garrison. No dishonor.”

“I can fight, so I will.” Tanaka caught his breath and rose from the ground.

The Jun-i met his eyes and smiled proudly. “Let’s go.”

When they got back to the truck, the soldiers that had been knocked over by the Carnotaurus were on their feet. Some got onto bicycles and others began to run down the lane toward the next battle. A few soldiers that had alighted from the truck were climbing into the rear of the transport.

The lower torso of a fallen soldier lay on the roadside. Pointing to the hunk of carcass, Tanaka said, “What about him?”

The Jun-i considered the comment, then shook his head. “We cannot spare any able men right now. He will have to wait until the battle is over. Then we will collect the remains of the fallen.”

“Suppose another creature takes it. We will lose the opportunity to honor his sacrifice and may upset his ancestors.”

The Jun-i nodded. “Grab him then.”

“Yes, sir.” Tanaka ran toward the severed limbs, keeping an eye on the tree line for predators.

Approaching, he latched onto a pant leg and dragged the remains to the truck. He stowed them in a cargo box located under the bed. Then, he stepped on the running board and climbed into the passenger seat, as the truck grumbled to life.

The driver shifted into gear and headed down the muddy road following the Jun-i’s scout car. Grasping his rifle with his left hand, Tanaka prepared himself to open the door and jump from his perch and fire at the enemy or beast in a moment’s notice.

Headlights cut down the lane and shined along the tree line. Somehow, the jungle seemed darker and more ominous than before.

He’d now seen the Carnotaurus three times and it had killed four soldiers without suffering much harm. It had romped into the brush unscathed. Fearless.

The creature seemed intelligent, Tanaka thought. He’d come face to face with it.

If the creature connected the sounds of gunfire with the prospect of a hearty fare, Tanaka figured it might be drawn to the skirmish with American invaders. Similar creatures might react the same way. He breathed heavily with apprehension.

The Gocho heard a firefight from the easterly side of the atoll. He took point and swiftly moved through the jungle, keeping to animal paths and areas with lower density underbrush. Behind him, the ad hoc unit struggled to keep pace.

He knew the swifter they encountered the enemy, the less prepared the Americans would be for an engagement.

Grinning, he pictured them slogging through heavy jungle, making their way slowly towards the garrison. They wouldn’t likely expect a conflict until closing in on the targeted areas. Even if they moved cautiously, the Americans would not anticipate the Imperial Army to be upon them soon after landing.

Soldiers panted behind him, struggling to keep up.

“Move it,” he commanded.

“We’re doing the best we can.” This from Sato, a superior private.

Gocho shook his head, dismayed. “You’re not fit enough for combat. We’ve been too lax in training and conditioning you. Not enough discipline.”

“But we are weighted down with equipment.”

He stopped abruptly. “Good point. Take it off and stow the heavy items by that tree. Helmets, packs, and mess tins. All of you.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison and began unloading gear.

“All you need is your rifle, ammunition and water.”

Some of them nodded, while others eagerly sought to jettison equipment. Privates Ito and Harada unloaded quickly, while Sato and Private Matsuda struggled with their packs.

“You should use this break to drink. We’ve got plenty of ground to—”

The Gocho’s words were cut short by a shadow moving among nearby trees. Everyone froze at the realization that something had caught his attention. He slowly came around to square off against the predator. Waving a hand, he motioned for the troops to shoulder their rifles.

A palm frond shook, and the creature came into view.

The beast stood about six feet tall and was slightly over eight feet long. It was stout and likely weighed close to a couple tons. Sniffing, it sensed the soldier’s presence.

A Metriacanthosaurus, it had a brownish hide covered with darker brown stripes. Gocho had studied the creatures in school and recalled this one to have been a fierce meat eater. But something made it hesitant to approach. It stood on the edge of a tree line, allowing for an easy retreat, where it would quickly become camouflaged by the jungle.

He thought about shooting at the beast, but its hide seemed thick and armored. Instead, he decided to try and scare it away. Perhaps this monster has encountered gunfire before, he thought hopefully.

The Gocho raised his pistol and pointed to the left of the creature’s head. Then he squeezed off a round.

His bullet tore through the leafy vegetation, and the crack from the Nambu pistol only caused the dinosaur to shake its large head. It didn’t run.

Rather the creature shook its head again, as if agitated. Then it stepped from the trees, pounding the ground several times with its massive feet, advancing a few yards. It stopped, canted its head, and stared the Gocho in the eyes. The dinosaur seemed to know who fired the gun. Sniffing the air, it raised the sides of both upper lips. Large fangs bared, releasing saliva that had pooled in the pockets of its large mouth.

Now, the drool ran towards the ground in streams. It planned to feed.

Raising the pistol at the creature, the Gocho prepared the unit to fight. “Ready!”

As the men aimed their rifles, the Metriacanthosaurus took another step forward, lowered its head, and let out a deep, fierce roar. The sound was deafening. It charged.

“Fire!” The Gocho pulled the trigger on his Nambu pistol, repeatedly.

Rifles cracked as the infantrymen blasted a volley of rounds at the approaching beast.

The dinosaur kept coming as bullets dug into its dense skull, unable to penetrate the thick bone. It closed the distance fast. Galloping.

Gocho emptied his magazine. He holstered the pistol. Reaching around for the sword on his back, he grabbed the Tsuka (handle) and unsheathed the weapon. The dinosaur swiftly approached, marking its prey. Primal ferocity radiated from its eyes. Ravenous.

Assuming the warrior stance, the Gocho prepared to take his final stand, placing himself between the rushing beast and his men.

The dinosaur glared at the sword, then broke to the right and plowed into the men behind the Gocho. It snatched onto Harada and tore violently at his midsection. The prostrate infantryman screamed in misery and thrashed the jungle floor with his combat boots. Flesh and uniform alike were ripped open.

Gocho spun to engage the beast. Plunging the sword into its side, he sliced between two ribs, and the creature bellowed in agony. The Metriacanthosaurus’s body quivered. Turning as it munched on its kill, the dinosaur’s movement jerked the sword, and knocked the Gocho over. He lost hold of the weapon. Massive feet with sharp claws sidestepped toward him as he lay strewn on the ground, helpless.

Gocho rolled to avoid being trampled to death. He reloaded the pistol.

Soldiers continued to fire their Sanpachi rifles. Bullets dug into the ground near the Gocho. The creature’s feeding frenzy had turned the situation into undisciplined panic.

The Gocho rose and raced toward the creature. He leapt onto its back. Then, he grabbed the sword to steady himself, as the beast tried to shake him loose. A moment later, the dinosaur returned to its fare.

Straining, the Gocho pulled on the sword, trying to yank it free. The weapon held tight. It had lodged into dense armor and cartilage. Silence fell over the scene as the infantrymen ceased firing. Everyone watched in awe as the Gocho fought to release the weapon. As he wiggled the sword to detach it from the gristle, the beast moaned in torment.

The animal was vulnerable to attack! And the Gocho’s efforts redoubled at the realization that he just might defeat the monster.

He planted his feet and lunged upright, pulling on the sword while flexing his legs. It released from the hide, and he flew backward onto the ground. The fall knocked the wind out of him. Catching his breath, he prepared himself for another assault.

The beast continued to feed on Harada, the fallen soldier. His corpse was torn into pieces. Bits of flesh, broken bone, and scraps of uniform littered the ground. Detritus of gore and death sent a coppery smell wafting over the fray. The soldier’s blood doused the green vegetation. And then, the remaining infantrymen fired another barrage of rounds at the beast.

It roared and hissed at them, more annoyed than harmed. The closest man stood within pouncing range. A single leap and the beast would devour him.

Gocho scrambled to his feet and ran up the side of the beast. Precariously perched on the creature’s back, he raised the sword and prepared to plunge the blade down into the nape of its neck. Vital nerves and arteries would be severed. But the dinosaur bucked and threw the Gocho to the earth.

“Get back!” He yelled to the troops, rising to his feet.

They moved away as commanded. And the dinosaur eyed them greedily, as though trying to decide which one to eat next. It moved swiftly and charged Matsuda, the heaviest soldier in the squad. A moment later, it had the man on the ground, screaming in misery.

Moving swiftly, the Gocho wasted no time. The creature had its head lowered to the soldier’s viscera, preoccupied. He leapt onto its back.

The creature gave a mild thrash, attempting to kick off the assailant. But it kept at the disemboweled intestines, strung across the grass like bloody sausage links.

Once again, the Gocho sprung onto the dinosaur’s back.

It paused from its feeding craze. A moment was all it took. The Gocho raised the sword and thrusted it downward with all his might. The blade impaled the creature’s neck.

The dinosaur lopped its head upward, wailing in pain. Its eyes bulged. And then, it took a step forward, stumbling on faltering legs.

Wavering, the unsteady gait caused the Gocho to lose his balance.

Another yowl of pain, trickling into a low moan, and then, the dinosaur lost its balance. It careened over, falling to the side. The Gocho saw the large creature dropping fast; it would land directly on top of him. He rolled swiftly, but he remained under the shadow of the massive beast.

The Metriacanthosaurus’s enormous body landed with a heavy thud alongside the Gocho. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then, the dinosaur’s head pitched onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for breath.

Everything appeared surreal, as though he were lying on a soft bed of vegetation, not feeling any pain. And then, he drifted into blackness.