“We’ve got a stretcher coming for you.” The corpsman smiled kindly.
“Use it for the others. I’m bandaged and can walk on my own.”
The corpsman shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“Why?” Dawson grimaced. “You’ve got Marines worse off than me.”
“You’re lucky to be alive. But that doesn’t mean you’re set to walk out of here.” The corpsman admonished him. “You’ve likely suffered a concussion from hitting your noggin on that rock. And your shoulder is pretty messed up.”
“Seem fine.” Dawson felt embarrassed.
Two marines dropped a stretcher by his side. Slipping their hands under his shoulders and around his calves, they carefully hoisted him over. A pang shot through his shoulder.
“See, I told you that shoulder took a hit.”
Dawson frowned. “I’ll be all right walking.”
“Look, your injury is worse than you think.” The corpsman shook his head, then pointed at his own shoulder, demonstrating. “The bullet bounced off your chest and struck you here. It hit a bone, then turned south and exited at the top of your bicep.”
“So?” The response made Dawson more compelled to get off the litter.
“We think the bullet clipped your brachial artery. There was major blood loss.”
“But it’s okay now, right?” Dawson felt his stomach turn.
“Sure, we clamped it off. But you start moving around and it’s likely to open.” The corpsman exhaled. “I hate to be the one telling you this, but that wound could affect your arm. You’ll be heading back to the states. And there’s no telling whether you’ll ever get back into this war. Sorry my friend.”
Those last words hung in the air like a church bell tolling for him.
“Don’t worry,” the corpsman said, patting Dawson’s leg. “Folks around here are saying that you were the main person that caused this operation to be a success.”
Dawson didn’t agree. “Takes a unit.”
“Well, they’re likely to pin a few metals on you.” He handed over the tin. “Go back home and take care of that gal. My guess is that she’s something special.”
The corpsman winked, then nodded to the stretcher bearers. As thy lifted Dawson from the ground, the sailor ran to the next fallen man.
“We’ll get you aboard the submarine soon.” The private grasping the stretcher near Dawson’s head grinned. He marched along without expressing any signs of carrying the burden of an extra hundred pounds on his end.
A caravan of marines departed from the battlefield and headed down the muddy lane towards the big lagoon, where the rubber boats awaited them on the sandy shore.
Dawson joined with a throng of marines toting wounded Raiders on litters. Most of the casualties moaned from the jostling that aggravated their injuries. A few glanced from the canvass gurneys with distant eyes. Their pale skin caused Dawson to wonder whether they’d make it. He took a deep breath and looked away.
Scanning the dense jungle, Dawson hoped they would get to the lagoon without being ambushed by Japanese soldiers. He also worried about another dinosaur attack.
“Hope the Japs don’t bushwhack us,” the marine said, looking down at Dawson.
Frowning at the lack of respect for worthy adversaries, Dawson ignored the derogatory term and replied to the statement. “I was just thinking that the Imperial troops might decide to regroup and come at us.”
“Saw you looking at the roadside. Figured you were thinking something along those lines.”
“Yeah, well I was also considering that we’re not out of the woods yet.”
The marine shifted his grip on the stretcher poles. “Meaning…”
Dawson looked up and the young man’s eyes were bugged out. “I mean those creatures are all over this island. And the fighting stirred them up.”
The marine gulped. “Hope we get off this damn place soon.”
Won’t be soon enough, Dawson thought.
A moment later, something broke from the jungle and raced towards the column. Dawson sat up on the cot. Everyone gawked. The clamor of weapons being readied echoed down the line. The Carnotaurus pounded across the muddy road and homed in on a solitary marine.
Plucking the marine from the ground, the dinosaur continued through the column, knocking over Raiders. The marine screamed in fear. But the assault happened too fast for anyone to get off a shot. And then, the beast protected itself by darting among the marines.
It barreled through them; the beast pounced into the boscage on the opposite side of the roadway.
One rifle shot sent a crack reverberating across the island. A moment later, the dinosaur and its prey were gone. Silence fell over the reserve company, until a staff sergeant told them all to get a move on.
“That dinosaur was fleeing from something,” Dawson said.
“How could you be sure?” The marine sounded doubtful.
“Guess I’ve been around them now. Seems like a lifetime of fending them off, but it’s only been a matter of one day.”
“Just won’t relax until we’re aboard the boat, right?”
“Yup.” He grinned. “I’m Dawson.”
“Just call me Chuck.”
A number of small dinosaurs raced across the road, coming from the same direction as the Carnotaurus. They ran between the marines and bolted into the jungle, following the same route as the aggressive meat eater.
Then, the ground trembled, signaling that something massive was coming their way.
“See?” Dawson muttered the point.
Palm trees snapped and large shrubs were crushed to bits, as the Tyrannosaurus stepped from the brush into the roadway. It moved sluggishly.
Dawson figured that it had overfed on its last kill. “Tell them all to freeze.”
“Raiders!” Chuck cupped both hands around his mouth. “Listen up. Dawson says to freeze. Don’t move. And don’t go for your weapon.”
Dawson grinned. “Nice work.”
Everyone stood fast, waiting to see who’d become the next victim. The T-Rex stalked down the lane, sniffing the marines. It lurched along the roadway but didn’t seize anyone.
The Tyrannosaurus eventually made it to Dawson. It leaned over and sniffed him from combat boots to helmet, then it reared its head back. Staring at the body on the stretcher, the carnivore appeared excited by the scent of blood.
Dawson braced himself for a death knell. He expected the dinosaur to roar, then lash forward and rip him off the litter. Instead, the T-Rex canted its head, as if confused, then it stalked away. The Tyrannosaur headed down the lane a piece, then stepped into the brush and disappeared into the verdure.
Chuck looked down at Dawson. “How did you know that would work?”
“Didn’t,” he said. “But I figured a predator like that would prefer to chase its prey. At least, that’s how it played out when it first stepped into the battle zone.”
“What it if didn’t work?”
“Nothing would have stopped it from grabbing someone.”
“We could have shot at it.”
“More marines would have died fighting it. Besides, the creature was already full and looked sluggish. Wild animals only kill when they need to eat.”
Chuck smiled and shook his head. “Sure glad I haven’t gotten close enough to these creatures to actually start to understand them.”
Dawson grinned. “I’ll be glad to put them behind me.”
“What makes you so sure there aren’t any more on other atolls?”
The comment made Dawson gulp. He didn’t have a response and the thought of fighting more battles like this daunted him. “Let’s hope not,” he finally said.