Jurassic War

Four

Tanaka woke at the sound of a rifle blast and sat up in his bunk. Others lay asleep or stirred groggily, uncomprehending of the threat. Rain danced on the thatch roof. He wondered if he’d heard it correctly. The sound continued to echo in his ears, and he figured a rifle had fired in the distance, so he hopped down to alert the troops.

“The Americans are here!” he bellowed, running from bunk to bunk, rattling the beds.

Foot soldiers sat up and looked around in disbelief. The island was wrapped in a blanket of silence. Many of them shook their heads and laid back down, while others perched up, waiting for instructions from a higher-ranking soldier.

“We have to move out, now!” Tanaka dressed quickly.

“You are on edge from Manchuria. No Americas here.” This from Hirano, another superior private, who clearly had not heard the shot.

“I awoke to a rifle blast. You slept through it.”

“You are hearing things.” Hirano waved Tanaka off and rolled over to sleep.

Tanaka pulled his boots on and grabbed his rifle.

Several fresh recruits looked bewildered. They respected Tanaka’s experience in battle, and, as soon as Osamu sprung from his bunk, many others followed. Every one of them dressed quickly and rushed to assemble outside the barracks.

Wind from a raging storm ruffled their uniforms and a deluge poured down on them.

All the commotion caused others to stir. The Gocho ran from his quarters holding a sword in one hand and a Nambu pistol in the other. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Tanaka, motioning with the pistol toward the assembled soldiers.

“The Americans have landed.”

A wide derisive grin spread across the Gocho’s face. “Not likely. Our forces have them pinned down on Guadalcanal. And we would know if ships approached here.”

“But I heard a shot.” Tanaka panted for breath.

The Gocho canted his head and looked at the others. “Is this true?”

All the soldiers stared back, dumfounded.

“Well, have any of you heard this shooting?” The Gocho turned serious.

They shook their heads in unison. Even Osamu couldn’t support the report.

“Seems you have woken us all for no reason.” Gocho laughed.

“But I did hear a shot.” Tanaka spread his hands, pleading.

The Gocho stared at Tanaka deprecatingly. “Your time in Manchuria has left you spooked. Let us get back to our beds.”

“Halt!”

Everyone turned to find the Jun-i rushing from his lodging. He wore trousers, boots, and an undershirt, while brandishing a pistol.

“We have a misunderstanding here,” the Gocho said. “Nothing more.”

“No. I heard the shot, too.” The Jun-i nodded. “Service in Manchuria has left him alert.”

Tanaka felt redeemed, but he didn’t smile because the situation couldn’t afford a moment of relief or pride. Instead, he gave a half bow toward the Jun-i.

“Where did the shot come from?” The Jun-i looked at Tanaka.

“There was just one shot. I believe it came from the beach near the lagoon.”

“Believe?” The Gocho rolled his eyes.

“Send a patrol down there to check it out.” The Jun-i told Gocho. He shook his head as if dismayed, then turned and headed back to his warrant officer quarters.

The Gocho approached Tanaka. “You lead the patrol and report to me with the result. Take a radio with you. It was probably just a native hunting in the night.”

“Understood.” Tanaka nodded.

Turning to the assembly of privates, the remaining foot soldiers hustled from the barracks, obviously having heard the Jun-i confirm that a shot had been fired.

All the senior infantrymen loaded into the back of the only transport truck. Tanaka climbed into the front passenger seat and a private slid behind the wheel. As the truck grumbled to life, the driver cut on the headlights. Some junior soldiers got onto bicycles and peddled down the muddy lane with rifles strapped across their backs.

The truck pulled out and headed toward the beach with the soldiers under protective covering from the elements. Grasping his rifle tightly, Tanaka didn’t believe they would encounter natives.

He readied himself for a deadly fight.