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.
Forty
Dawson wrapped up his training at Jacques Farm and traveled with the 2nd Raider Battalion to Hawaii. His letter home was postmarked from Somoa, Hawaii.
Mary,
Sorry that I have not written in a few weeks. We have been terribly busy, preparing to leave stateside. Then we were getting settled here in Hawaii, and preparing for our first mission. I’ve received your letters and find time to read them. They keep me motivated.
We got liberty and I went out with some of the guys, then used the remainder of the time to write this. Hawaii is just like a postcard, with tall palm trees, sandy beaches, and crystal blue water. We spent most of our time down on the beach, walking around, running into the surf. The water is a lot warmer than the Atlantic that we have in New England. It sure is beautiful. I’m glad to experience it, but it’s not the same without you. Wish you were with me.
I hope things are going well there. I’m glad that your school finished up with such a great result, and I’m happy you found work at the bank. I wish I could have been at your graduation. I’m sure you will do well at the new job. You’re good with numbers and attention to detail.
We’ve been working with the rubber boats more. They have us go out into rough surf, capsize the boat, then work as a team to get it right-sided. We’ve gotten better at using the rope and our body weight to flip the boat back into position. Everyone has gotten stronger and better at rowing, too. I feel a lot better about the boats now. But it is a vast and powerful ocean and the boats are quite small. Lt. Col. Carson continues with the fitness regimen. He had us up at 4:00 a.m. the first day we got here. We did a six-mile run in combat boots along the water. It sure is harder to run in sand than I’d ever imagined.
We’ll be here for a little bit longer, then our unit will move into the action. I’m sure that I’ll get some down time to write, and I will continue to get your letters. The military is good about moving mail through the combat zone. It’s one of the priorities the brass put on the rear echelon. Keep the mail coming to keep the spirits up of the folks fighting on the front lines.
I’ll be in touch again soon.
The letter written in response came with a few others at the same time. Postmarked from Portsmouth, New Hampshire.