Jurassic War

Thirty-Nine

Dawson couldn’t believe the sight before him. More alarming than the military factions, confronting each other in a major face-to-face conflict at fairly close range, was the sight of an impending assault from the tree line near Dawson on the right side of the garrison.

A chill ran down his spine at the sight of the looming battle: marines verse soldiers and humans against beasts.

Yellow orbs glowed in the underbrush. An entire wave of scavenger dinosaurs waited for the right moment to pounce. The ranks ran three deep and spread from the edge of the Japanese line to beyond the American positions. Everyone on the battlefield was so focused on their targets, they clearly didn’t see the imminent doom from the creatures on their flank.

Dawson wanted to fire a warning shot and alert the marines to the danger. But he also didn’t want to give away his team’s position. He wondered if a similar situation was developing on the left side of the building, out of his view.

Glancing around in an attempt to assess the conditions and formulate a plan, he realized the situation was more dire than he’d understood. Worse than the scavengers lined up in the brush, a pack of carnivores, standing taller than a man, moved about behind the line of smaller dinosaurs. The bigger dinosaurs pranced about in a frenzy, anxious to attack their prey.

They’re not used to waiting this long, Dawson thought. He got the feeling that they would normally stalk their quarry and pounce at the right opportunity.

Something held them back. The Compsognathus and Procompsognathus dinosaurs might have been waiting for the combatants to kill each other, so they could move in and feed upon the soils. Scavengers accustomed to waiting through the battles between larger dinosaurs, they had reason to lurk in the shadows. But the man-sized dinosaurs had quickly acclimated to the threat of human weapons, which meant they possessed a higher level of intelligence than he first imagined.

Thoughts of such vicious creatures, having the cognitive ability to restrain their ingrained predatory instincts, based upon a few chance encounters with machineguns, frightened Dawson to no end. Some of the dinosaurs lingering in the underbrush weren’t present during the skirmish at the fuel storage tanks. They were now more plentiful. He’d only seen a handful of them before.

Somehow, the dinosaurs were able to pass the knowledge of danger onto each other, communicating like a pack of wolves. Occasional chirps and growls emanated from down the line. A leader was instructing the others, holding them back.

Dawson gulped. His pulse quickened.

A tenacious dread wrapped around him, stifling his breathing.

He inhaled, trying to get air.

A massacre loomed over the battlefield, like a portent of death. He finally decided to fire a warning shot and shouldered his rifle. It was time to join the fray. He aimed at a soldier near the corner of the garrison.

The rifle cracked and a shot whizzed past the target and dinged into the scout car. Checking the advancing Raiders for a sign they’d caught the warning signal, he didn’t sense the marines had registered the effort. Dawson’s shot had gone off unnoticed as the battle enraged and both sides put down heavy fire.

Bishop tired of waiting and took Dawson’s shot as a cue to join the fight. He let rip with his Browning, blasting round after round into the Japanese right flank. Then Simmons stepped alongside him and weighed in with the other Browning he’d commandeered from Fuller.

Bodies writhed on the ground from the surprise rear echelon attack. Soldiers moaned and reached desperately for their wounds.

Suddenly, the front line of scavenger dinosaurs became active, shifting and bobbing their heads, birdlike. Anticipation of feasting on the dead and wounded nearby had whet their appetites.

A carnivore squawked from the third row, chirping an instruction to the others. Then several Raptors pushed past the scavengers and stepped onto the battlefield. One scraped its hind leg into the dirt, cleaving the soil open with a sickle-shaped claw. A light rain danced off its thick hide, covered with dark stripes.

The bloody clash between the Imperial soldiers and marines continued, unawares. Machinegun fire erupted throughout the scene. Cracks of intermittent rifle shots and the occasional blast of a hand grenade added to the commotion.

A coppery scent wafted through the air and drove the meat eaters into a frenzy.

The leader chirped another command and the pack set upon their prey. Raptors ran onto the battlefield and feasted upon the fallen soldiers, tearing off hunks of flesh and snapping at each other, vying for position.

Some futile gunshots resounded from the melee, but the bullets didn’t slow the dinosaurs and only served to spur them on. Dominant carnivores pounced on the offenders and bit at the soldiers’ throats. Blood streamed from the wounds, spurting into the pale moonlight reflecting through the clouds. It looked almost black in the overcast night.

The pack leaders were doused in sanguine liquid, with blood smeared over their snouts, across their faces, and covering their chests. A crude appearance, the messy condition didn’t slacken their desire, but rather served as a catalyst for more.

Now, the Raptors buffeted each other, no longer satisfied with the meaty appendages. Each carnivore challenged the position of the others, snapping and biting, pushing with their rumps, until an opening emerged in the throng. Then a dinosaur poked its nose through the others and bit into a soldier’s viscera. Screaming and flailing senselessly, the victim could not abate his impending blight.

Coils of intestines were ripped from his abdomen, and then strewn on the ground like sausage links covered in blood. While a Raptor chewed on the spoils, others latched onto the booty and pulled until the organ snapped apart. Another dinosaur wormed into the open cavity in search of a rewarding fare.

Scavengers along the sidelines could no longer contain themselves. They burst onto the field and gobbled up scraps of discarded meat.

Hysteria engulfed the scene. The larger meat eaters thrashed the Compsognathus and Procompsognathus dinosaurs, beating them away from the carcasses, sending them to fend for themselves, and hunt for their own pickings.

The scavengers spread like waves across the battlefield and pounced upon the Imperial soldiers and American marines alike.

Eventually, Dawson shouldered his rifle but understood vast numbers of dinosaurs had taken the field. Attempting to sharpshoot them was an exercise in futility. The larger carnivores needed to be killed and the smaller, pesky creatures beaten back.

He moved up the tree line and got into a kneeling position slightly past the front corner of the house. Enemy soldiers were trounced by the Raptors.

Other soldiers hid behind the scout car, exposed to his line of fire.

Beyond them he spied a group of Imperial soldiers setting up mortars near the other front corner of the building. The young enlisted leader was among them, pointing to his troops and adjusting the elevation tubes.

Simmons and Bishop sidled up to Dawson. He pointed toward the mortars.

“We need to take them out before they lay waste to our troops.”

Bishop nodded understanding. “Should we go around back?”

“No time.” Dawson shook his head.

“What, then?”

Dawson grinned. “We’re going to blast our way to the scout car. Then we’ll lay down some heavy fire on the mortars from there.”

Bishop grinned, but Simmons seemed concerned.

“What?” Dawson said, but he didn’t want to listen to a dispute. No time.

“Just that we’ll be pinned down behind the car.” Simmons gulped. “We’ll take fire from our own troops. Soldiers in the building will shoot at us…”

“And?”

“Well, we have to get past those.” He pointed at the dinosaurs tearing soldiers to bits near the corner of the building.

They would have to run past the Raptors and likely face off with one or two of them before getting behind the scout car.

Dawson nodded, agreeing with the assessment. “We have to do it anyway. Our boys are going to be blown to bits if we don’t.”

Simmons didn’t seem convinced. “If those things get us, we won’t be any use to our troops. Let’s just go around back and surprise them. We’ll have a better chance of pulling off the attack. Better a few mortars go off than risk all of them.”

He had a point. The lieutenant colonel’s group input took up time, but it helped execute a mission with precision. “You go around back and the two of us will blast through them.”

Both marines smiled at Dawson’s plan, then Simmons jogged around back.

“Come on,” Dawson said to Bishop. “Let’s go.”

They broke towards the scout car with weapons shouldered and pointed at the Raptors feeding upon enemy soldiers. Dawson limped along. As he’d suspected, the beasts were focused on tearing the carcasses to shreds and didn’t pursue them. Their hunting had terminated and now it was time to feast upon the spoils.

Rounding the corner of the building, a small Raptor was bumped away from the remains of a fallen solider. It nipped a larger dinosaur on the neck.

The stronger brute smacked its haunch into the yippy creature, knocking it unsteady, then it sunk its teeth into a hind quarter for good measure. The smaller Raptor reeled from the feeding frenzy and turned and faced new prey.

With just a few steps, it pressed after the American commandos, rushing at them like a locomotive. Dawson saw the beast coming at them.

Anger registered in its eyes after being rebuked by its rival. Opening its jaws, drool streamed from its fangs. It hadn’t been able to feed like the others. The creature had stood by a massive feast without being able to participate. Madness registered in its eyes.

The Raptor closed on Bishop, who ran along unawares.

It opened its mouth even wider. The jaws snapped shut like the metal coils releasing on a bear trap. Dawson expected to see blood. Instead, the bite caused Bishop to stop in his tracks, and then he was jerked backward off his feet.

With a tremendous yank of the Raptor’s neck, a tug and tear predatory movement, Bishop got whipped around like a rag doll. The dinosaur had him by the Haversack.

Bishop wailed, disoriented and unsure what was happening to him.

Dawson trained his rifle on the creature, but it just kept shaking its prey. He couldn’t align a shot without potentially hitting the marine.

Reaching for his bayonet, he affixed it to his rifle, then stepped into the fray.

Fierce yellow eyes locked on him. The Raptor dropped Bishop with a thud and stepped forward to face off with Dawson. Its hind leg flexed, crimping the ground with immense claws. A large sickle-shaped claw protruded from the lower portion of its leg. The creature meant to rip his guts out with it.

The dinosaur pounced. It came at Dawson hard and fast, a bull rush.

He advanced into the fight, stepping forward, then planting his feet, securing the butt of the rifle into his good thigh. Dawson pointed the bayonet low.

It charged headlong into him. The blade pierced the creature’s abdomen, causing the Raptor to yowl in pain. Still, the beast’s momentum kept it coming at Dawson, and the bayonet sunk deeper into the dinosaur’s viscera. Blood gushed from the wound, but the carnage only served to fuel the creature’s ire.

Force from the Raptor’s assault knocked Dawson to the ground. Grasping his weapon tightly, the bayonet and rifle barrel pierced the creature’s gut, skewering him, until the blade punched through its backside.

An intense caterwauling followed the act, while the dinosaur squirmed on the apparatus impaling its bowels. It desperately fought to reach Dawson and tear out his throat.

Blood spewed from the creature’s abdomen. The twisting and turning only served to cause the weapon to entangle its entrails and cleave his midsection further. It wailed and snapped in pain and fury.

Soon, the beast wormed down the rifle, and its guts spilled warm innards and blood over Dawson’s hands. The Raptor snapped at his neck, which remained slightly out of the reach of its deadly maw.

The sickle-shaped claw motored around, striking the dirt, ripping his utilities, and cleaving his thigh open. Dawson couldn’t fend the beast off much longer.

He closed his eyes and thought of Mary.

A sudden slacking of pressure caused him to open them again.

The creature reared back to gain momentum for another strike. Dawson wriggled his rifle loose and pressed the barrel against a solid object within the dinosaur’s innards. He pulled the trigger. A round exploded into the Raptor’s spine. It screeched in agony.

Bone fragments, gristle, and meat blew out the back of the predator.

Arching its back, the creature froze, then lost control over its lower muscular functions, and teetered forward, collapsing on top of Dawson.

The upper torso writhed as the creature wailed and screeched in pain and confusion. Its jaws snapped open and shut, but the head lay pressed into the ground. And then, the hulking beast rolled off him.

Dawson looked up and found Bishop leaning over him. The jarhead grinned and reached out with a hand. Assisting him to his feet with one strong tug, Bishop laughed. “That was something else. Expected you were going to be its next meal.”

“You could have stepped up and helped out.”

“Happened too fast.” Bishop spoke in his matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, a semblance of reinforcement would have been nice.” Dawson adjusted his gear behind the scout car. “Got to move ahead with the plan, now.”

“Count me in.” Then Bishop raised the Browning and unloaded into the thatch building. Rounds tore into the garrison, riddling enemy soldiers, who’d taken up position at a nearby window. Brass cartridges spit from the ejection port. Muscles in his face vibrated along with the rhythmic bursts of the weapon.

An enemy soldier fell out the window opening, with his chest ripped apart from the high caliber bullets. Others inside wailed in pain. Even the ground seemed to shake under Dawson’s feet as the crazed marine tore the place to shreds.

Soldiers crawled out from under the scout car, and Dawson shot them. Their eyes glazed over in an eerie state of death. Up close, the fighting unnerved him for a moment. The dead looked so real. He couldn’t bring himself to loathe such young men, sent to their ends without having any choice in the matter.

The chaotic gunfire ceased, as Bishop powered down.

A tremor carried across the ground, and Dawson knew the vibrations hadn’t come from Bishop’s attack. Something large was stalking its way towards the commotion.

He sighted his rifle at the soldiers erecting mortars. The Japanese foot soldier he’d encountered before led the infantrymen in the task. Every one of them worked frantically, assisting him. And he seemed to be adjusting the mortars, as though increasing the line of trajectory.

The young enlisted man’s eyes were opened wide. He seemed fixated on something in the distance. Dawson turned to see what had the Japanese soldier terrified.

Glancing over the hood of the scout car, he observed the American offensive line. They were dug in behind fallen trees, stumps, and had dug fighting holes. Most were armed with rifles, sharpshooting the enemy. A few held Browning automatic rifles, and still others wielded Thompson submachine guns.

Marines with the heavier firepower riddled the Japanese positions. Some were careless about their shooting. Bullets dinged off the scout car, even though they had to know marines were fighting behind enemy lines. Scavenger dinosaurs had spread over the battlefield, taking bites of soldiers and marines, and kicking up a commotion. Defending against them involved kicking, punching, knife thrusts, and occasional shots. The latter method sent wild rounds through the battle zone.

Another vibration, and the ground trembled again. Beyond the Americans something massive lurched their way, and it was closing in on the battle scene. It wasn’t in view yet, which caused Dawson to consider what the Japanese soldier had been staring at earlier. He looked around and caught a glimpse of a large dinosaur standing among a thicket of trees.

The massive creature stood motionless, observing the commotion. It was ginormous and weighed at least 8 tons, and it spanned 55 feet from snout to the tip of its tail. The muzzle was long and narrow, like a crocodile. Sharp and jagged teeth protruded from its lips. A large fin rose from its back, resembling an old-fashioned hand-fan. Its feet crimped the earth with large claws, but the space between the talons was webbed like a duck or a river otter.

Dawson figured the dinosaur was a Spinosaurus, a meat eater that lived on land and in the water. Remains of one had recently been found in North Africa and featured in Life Magazine. The Spinosaurus must live in a boggy area near a lagoon.

It seemed reluctant to press into the fray, as though it didn’t usually venture far into the interior of the atoll for prey. The creature’s nostrils wrinkled, likely picking up the scent of blood from the Raptors mauling soldiers and tearing them to bits. At some point, the dinosaur meant to charge into the battlefront and feast upon the combatants. Most of them didn’t even know the creature lingered in the shadows.

Shouldering his rifle, Dawson meant to shoot at the beast and put things into motion, thinking his comrades were better off learning about the creature before it could surprise them. Raiders were positioned closer to the Spinosaurus, so they’d be its first victims.

Just as Dawson was about to squeeze the trigger, a few trees snapped, and the colossal T-Rex stepped into the mix. Flames continued to waft from its hide in a conflagration of burning fuel and charred meat. It carped in pain and misery, then the predator sized up the scene, lowered its head and let loose a ferocious roar.

An abrupt silence marked its entrance. The adversaries stopped firing at each other, and the Raptors paused from ransacking corpses, and glanced up at the newcomer. Even the scavenger dinosaurs halted their pillaging to observe the king of the island.

The Tyrannosaurus looked them over, then a few Procompsognathus dinosaurs moved about. Stomping a foot, the T-Rex let out another fierce roar.

Everyone became still and waited, as if letting the monster choose its prey. And they all hoped it would be someone else. The dinosaurs instinctively froze, waiting to flee after the T-Rex set upon another. Soldiers and marines remained idle, expecting a human to be the first target. A calm before the storm, calamity would erupt as soon as it made its move.

Flames wafted from the creature and the pungent scent of charred flesh drifted over the battle zone. Dawson considered whether the damaged tissue might weaken the creature or drive it into uncontrollable rage.

The T-Rex roared again. It took a step forward, hesitated, looking around, then it charged towards a marine laying behind a fallen three.

Realizing he was the target, the marine scrambled to his feet and ran towards the Japanese defensive line. The Tyrannosaurus chased him, swiftly motoring its massive legs, closing the distance in a few colossal steps.

Dawson anticipated a shot to crack from the enemy line, but everyone remained frozen, awestruck, watching the futile escape.

The T-Rex reached the fleeing marine; it shot its massive head downward and snatched the man from the ground. He screamed and kicked in vain. Its maw engulfed the marine’s upper torso and clamped down on his abdomen with sharp teeth. Legs dangled, kicking, from the dinosaur’s mouth, reminiscent of a cat holding a live mouse. Blood oozed from the puncture wounds, like juice running from a rare steak.

Cries of pain emitted from the cavernous mouth, tempered by the creature’s hold, but the muffled screams were even more ominous.

Death couldn’t terminate the Raider’s suffering fast enough.

The carnivore shook its prey like a rag doll, and the fleeting screams for help abated. Pausing in the middle of the combat zone, the Tyrannosaurus chomped on its victim, savoring the fare. Grinding its molars, the creature meant to crush the man’s bones and swallow him whole. It sucked part of the man down, and the limp lower torso followed. Soon, only a leg hung from the creature’s mouth. The T-Rex tilted its head back. Another swallow, and the remainder of the man disappeared, while a bulge moved down the creature’s throat.

The carnivore glanced around the battlefield with predatory eyes. Its yellow orbs seemed to be searching for the next victim. But the process was more than mere selection of a meal. Scanning the options, the predator seemed to be gauging which person was most likely to run. The beast enjoyed the hunt, savored the pursuit of its prey.

Another quarry presented itself soon enough. The eyes locked on a target.

The Japanese defensive line lay before the creature, and a soldier was crouched behind a barrel in a forward position. He rose and broke towards the side of the garrison where the Raptors had fed upon a few of his comrades.

Within a moment, the Tyrannosaurus was in pursuit. It stalked after the soldier with lumbering steps, almost giving the man a slight lead before delivering the death knell.

The soldier bolted past the scout car. And Dawson froze while the T-Rex ran by his position, focused on the enemy soldier. Frightened into panic, the soldier’s eyes were opened wide, registering terror. He trundled along emitting an indiscernible plea, like a baby running home to his mother.

Approaching the gaggle of Raptors, the break in tranquility abruptly ended.

Running headlong towards the carnivores, the soldier upset the balance. He halted. The closest Raptor sprung on him, as the thundering steps of the Tyrannosaurus shook the pack hunters off balance.

The smaller dinosaur knocked the soldier to the ground. It wielded its sickle-shaped claws and cranked a rear leg into the man’s abdomen. Flesh tore open, and the scent of blood floated through the air. The creature fed ravenously on the soldier’s intestines, as he screamed in bloody agony. Other pack hunters vied for space near the open viscera, while a few settled for the meaty appendages.

Compsognathus and Procompsognathus dinosaurs plied between the Raptors and fed upon the soldier’s remains, tearing off scraps of meat and nipping at each other.

The wild feeding frenzy kept the dinosaurs from noticing that the ground had ceased trembling. While they feasted upon the carcass, the Tyrannosaurus peered down at them, almost mystified by the absurdity.

It reared its head back, then let out a fierce roar. A bellow of warning and contempt, it thrust its head downward and sounded off in the creatures’ faces.

A Raptor looked up with blood smeared on its maw. It sneered at the Tyrannosaur, as flames whisked into the dull night sky from the creature’s enormous back. The Raptor had a poised stance, as though it meant for the pack to take the king down.

The others looked up at the towering beast. And the leader clicked an instruction to the others, and they spread out, flanking the Tyrannosaurus like trained soldiers.

Scraping the ground with sharp claws, the Raptors signaled a return warning to the Tyrannosaurus, offering it a chance to depart. The T-Rex eyed them, scanning from side to side, as though measuring their resolve and sizing up the pack’s advantage.

While the T-Rex glanced to the right, a Raptor on the left darted at the creature’s haunch. It ran up the meaty leg and propped itself on the large dinosaur’s rib section, digging its claws into the thick hide. Flames wavered through the Raptor’s hind legs and swooshed around its tail. Biting savagely into the creature’s neck, the Raptor thumped its tail, attempting to douse the fire spreading onto its skin.

The Tyrannosaur spun around, trying to shake the Raptor from its back. It careened its head, stretching its neck in futility to reach the aggressor on its back.

More clicking from the central Raptor, and others charged the mighty predator. Jumping at the T-Rex from both sides, and piling on from the rear, the pack assailed the creature. They bit and chomped madly at its hide, tearing off strips of protective skin. Some of the bands of meat were singed and peeled off like pork simmering in a slow cooker.

Straining, the Tyrannosaur managed to get a grip on a Raptor. It locked the smaller dinosaur in its jaws, clamping them tight, until the creature’s neck snapped. Then, it hurled the smaller dinosaur through the air. It sailed limply from the fracas, unable to breathe or fight its massive adversary.

The Raptor crashed into the garrison and plowed through the thatch wall. Pieces of split bamboo and clumps of thatch swung back and forth, then the side of the building settled into the stillness of a black hole.

Vanquished, the Raptor didn’t arise to fight again. It died miserably but not in vain.

Others elevated their resolve to tackle the beast, rather than shy away from the conflict. Raptors assaulted the Tyrannosaurus in unison. A couple latched onto the massive tail, sinking their jaws into the dense hide. The tail swung back and forth, as the behemoth sought to shake them loose. Still, they hung on and continued biting the massive appendage.

Some Raptors continued to assail the creature’s back, scaling the haunches and expansive midsection, and clawing and biting to stay on the dinosaur. The T-Rex bucked and writhed to shake them loose, but to no avail.

As soon as one dropped off, two more climbed on and took their place. The fire abated on the Tyrannosaurus’s back, and the Raptors picked madly at its charred flesh.

Wailing in misery and frustration, the T-Rex spun around and shook like a dog climbing out of a lake. A few Raptors spilled to the ground. The Tyrannosaurus pounded on one as it squirmed to upright itself.

It placed a massive claw on the Raptor’s midsection, then pressed tons of weight into the smaller creature. The Raptor flailed to dislodge its carriage from beneath the impending doom, but it couldn’t budge the colossal predator. Other dinosaurs assailed the Tyrannosaurus, but it didn’t pay them any mind. It withstood the assault and continued squeezing the life out of its attacker.

Eventually, the Raptor lost its breath, as a vise-grip hold torqued on its lungs. The floundering subsided; it laid still in defeat, taking short, rhythmic gasps of breath.

A final thrust to free itself was taken utterly in vain.

Collapsed in defeat, the smaller creature stared off into the gulf between life and death. Its rear legs gave a few sudden kicks, then the forsaken beast defecated, and its yellow eye glazed over into the state of death.

The massive beast bent over. It bit the Raptor’s head off with a single tearing yank of its jaws. Whipping its head in the opposite direction, the T-Rex tossed it at the feet of the pack leader. And then, the T-Rex reared its head back and let loose a visceral roar.

A warning that hell was unleashed, the Tyrannosaurus then breathed deeply, savoring the aroma of blood pulsating from the decapitated creature.

Crimson gushed onto the wet soil and mixed with drizzle, running in streams towards Raptors standing around the king of the jungle. The primal display had caused a pause in the attack. Suddenly, the dinosaurs that previously attacked without any indication of fear or consequences now appeared impotent.

The Tyrannosaurus flexed its muscles and let go another vicious roar. Without further warning, it charged the nearest Raptor.

Darting to the side, the smaller dinosaur appeared to avert harm, but it would not escape unscathed. The T-Rex whipped its head around, and the ginormous size of the creature brought a gaping mouth to the underbelly of the Raptor.

Jaws closing on the smaller creature, it shrieked in pain and called for its pack. Raptors watched, antsy, desirous to join the fight. They looked to the leader for a command to close upon the Tyrannosaur. But the clicking command did not resonate; the leader watched the slaughter closely, as if weighing the prospect of revenge against further casualties. Cutting their losses and turning away from the carnage might prove the best option. Other sources of nourishment were abound.

Finally, the leader clicked instructions to the others. They looked confused, even disappointed, but the dinosaurs obeyed. Breaking from the standoff, they spread into the battlefield. A few trotted past Dawson, who tucked behind the scout car. Soon the combatants on both sides were screaming in fear and agony. Wild shots zinged around the combat zone.

The T-Rex sunk its teeth into the squirming dinosaur. It yowled as blood oozed from the puncture wounds. Lifting the Raptor off the ground, the Tyrannosaurus shook the thing in its mouth like a ragdoll.

A moment later, it had the carcass pinned to the earth, while it ripped meat from the fallen creature’s hide. The T-Rex fed greedily upon the fresh meat, as the fire on its own backside dwindled to a smoldering mist, extinguished. Fuel had burned off and the nighttime rain cascaded water over its dense skin.

Pain and torment leant to a voracious appetite. It plucked the Raptor clean.

Then, the Tyrannosaurus whipped around and plodded onto the battlefield, scanning the prospects for its next victim. It locked eyes with a young marine, who grew fearful and ran. A chase is exactly what inspired the gigantic predator. The T-Rex thundered in pursuit.

Bullets whizzed past Dawson’s head and all hell broke loose, as the battle erupted into chaos, with U.S. Marines fighting Imperial soldiers and both sides clashing with dinosaurs.

He’d refocused on the task at hand, when the T-Rex plundered his way. Rotating towards the mortars, he slid his rifle butt into the nook of his shoulder and trained the iron sights on the soldier leading the mortar team.

The versatile young leader had the tubes aligned and was ready to fire upon the most heavily entrenched American line. It would spell disaster.

Dawson waited for the soldier to come to a stationery position.

When the Japanese soldier moved into a hunched position, with his hands on his knees, leaning over a mortarman, like an umpire encroaching upon a catcher, he became a static target. Dawson had the shot. He slowly began to squeeze the trigger.