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.