Screaming in fear, the infantryman was too stunned to flee. His paralysis led to his demise. Massive jaws opened, then closed around him. It plucked the soldier from the ground and backed away from the building. A cacophony of battle noise emanated through the opening.
Dawson heard the victim’s snapping bones, as he pushed Mike through the back wall.
Outside, they ran the fuse out six feet from the building. “That’s it,” Mike said, pointing at the end of the line.
“Wish it were longer. Only runs to the building, then another ten feet inside.”
“Hope you can run fast.” Mike grinned, then lit the fuse and bolted for the tree line.
“Holy cow!” Dawson screamed and followed him.
Mike ran into the brush, then ducked behind the largest tree in the vicinity. It wasn’t very big. About eight inches in diameter, the trunk of the palm tree barely provided cover for Mike. His shoulders jutted into view.
Dawson stopped in his tracks, realizing there wasn’t enough cover for both of them.
Scanning the area, he was cognizant the garrison was about to blow. And a room full of ordnance would go along with it. There wasn’t much time.
He ran into the jungle and tripped about ten feet into the brush. Dawson fell on his face, with palm fronds slapping his cheeks. Lying there for only a moment, his shin throbbed, and he understood that he’d tripped over a fallen tree. He squirmed along the ground and sidled up to the trunk for cover. Pain registered sharply in his injured thigh.
Just as he got situated, the first blast of TNT went off, followed by an immense explosion from the ordnance room. The initial detonations were loud, but the weapons cache erupting was deafening. Dawson’s ears rung, then everything became muffled. Almost silent.
Deafness made him feel alone, disconnected from the fighting.
Multiple blasts resounded from the ordnance room, as various weapons blew. They sounded like explosions happening miles away.
Shrapnel tore through the jungle, ripping the vegetation apart. Mike’s screams were faint from Dawson’s hearing loss. He couldn’t discern whether the blasts had scared the young marine, or whether the kid had taken a hit.
Further explosions worked around the garrison as the remaining TNT bundles ignited by the winding fuse line. Each detonation sent a blast through the roof of the building, causing the thatch structure to quickly become engulfed with flames.
Additional salvos of TNT caused roof and wall supports to crumble. The garrison imploded and dropped to the ground in a blaze of rubble.
Through billowing smoke and fiery debris, the battlefield came into view. Dawson did a hasty scan for the best route to American lines. The Spinosaurus and T-Rex were wrestling near the right corner of the building where Raptors had initially set upon Japanese soldiers. A blazing inferno prevented him from heading through the destroyed garrison. The only viable route would be to trace around the other side of the garrison.
He rose to his feet and trotted over to the demolitions man hunkered behind a tree. Mike sat with his back against the trunk, holding his hands over his ears, trembling. Both shoulders were torn open from shrapnel, and blood trickled from his wounds.
Shell shocked, Dawson thought.
Reaching for the young man’s wrist, he pulled Mike to his feet. He wrapped the marine’s arm around a shoulder, and he helped him walk toward the American line. They rounded the end of the smoldering building and came across Simmons’s prostrate body. Lying in the mud with his eyes locked in a morbid state of death, the grim scene reminded Dawson of the horrors of battle.
He looked away and picked up the pace. Mike grew more oriented as blood circulated through his system; adrenaline helped fuel them along. They moved alongside the burning garrison. Chaos lay before them.
Marines and soldiers continued to fight in hand-to-hand combat. Rifle butts were swung at the heads of adversaries, and bayonets shined in the dim light of rising dawn. They’d fought through the night. Crimson dulled the glimmer of many blades.
Bodies strewn across the battlefield were picked at by scavenger dinosaurs. Many were dead, but others moaned in pain. Some fought the little beasts, punching and kicking them away. Others were mortally wounded or too weak to defend themselves. Rounding the corner of the flaming garrison, the demolitions man who turned over his Haversack to Dawson lay on the ground fending off Compys in futility.
“Can you stand on your own?” Dawson asked Mike.
“I’m intact. Go help him.”
Dawson let go of the marine’s arm. Mike staggered but regained his balance. After ensuring that Mike could walk on his own, Dawson bolted towards the fallen marine.
He reached the demolitions man, then kicked a couple of Compys off the wounded man. The dinosaurs hissed and jumped back on the injured marine. Dawson repeated his efforts.
“The hell with you!” He kicked them. Adrenaline masked his pain, but his injured thigh kept him unsteady.
The demolitions marine shook his head. He waved Dawson off. “Get out of here.”
Dawson couldn’t leave the man like this. His efforts had helped blow the garrison and made the mission a success. The press would report a victory in striking on Japanese controlled soil, with the destruction of infrastructure. He’s a hero, Dawson considered.
The marine shook his head.
“I can’t leave you like this,” Dawson insisted.
“Only a matter of time and Bravo Company will be here.”
Dawson considered the comment. “Why are you so sure?”
The demolitions man grinned. “Once they see that garrison blown, they’ll head this way to sweep the area for dead and wounded and to provide reinforcements.”
“I’ll wait with you.” Dawson smiled, then a bullet zinged by his helmet.
“Too dangerous. You’re a target.”
Another shot buzzed past him. Dawson felt vulnerable.
The T-Rex was on the Spinosaurus. It had a rear foot pressed into the assailant’s midsection. Sharp claws had cleaved into its hide.
The Spinosaurus writhed to free itself. Its efforts were futile.
Rearing its massive head back, the Tyrannosaurus poised for a kill strike. Its prey gave a final attempt to flounder loose, kicking and bucking its head off the soggy earth. Then, it lay flat on the ground, pinned to the deck, chest breathing in and out, prepared for the death knell.
And the T-Rex struck hard and fast, biting into the underside of the Spinosaurus’s meaty neck. The larger dinosaur yowled and kicked madly.
Ripping a chunk of flesh from the massive beast, the T-Rex shook it and munched the fare down ravenously. Blood spewed from the gaping wound. The kicking subsided. And then, the Spinosaurus lay dead, vanquished.
Scavengers moved towards the carcass, drawn by the scent of fresh blood. The Tyrannosaurs Rex eyed them and stomped a warning. It snorted, impatiently.
Raptors encroached upon the kill, and the T-Rex bared its gigantic teeth and roared.
Then, it set upon the closest one, sweeping the smaller creature off the ground with a tenacious bite.