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.