Shots fired

"I can't see shit through this fog". They had been on the river bank for three days, the first two days it rained non-stop. Today it had finally stopped. Now a thick fog had formed that kept everything cold and wet. "Sir, we need to stop, Frank is in a really bad shape"

They took rest under an old iron bridge, no fire. Frank had several deep gashes on his leg and couldn't put weight on it. Through his torn pamts you could see his leg was swollen and the wound was dirty. "Sir, he's burning up". A fever, the wound was infected. This wasn't looking good for them. They barely escaped with their lives since the last attack and had been on the riverbank since. They had lost most of their platoon in the attack, it was just the four of them. The water made it easier for them to hide their tracks and there were lots of hiding places. If only they could make it to the nearby camp. But the fog made it impossible to find, without radios they could be two meters away from it and not have a clue. The camps had to be moved all the time to remain undiscovered, if you weren't there when it moved you wouldn't know where it went. Right now the only thing they could do was survive. "Connor, take watch" Connor gave a quick nod, slung his weapon over his shoulder and climbed the rocks up to the bridge above. Not that there would be much to see. Connor, Frank, Weaver and commander Miller, that's all what was left of the platoon. Miller took a small flask from his belt and poured some of the liquid in Frank's mouth. He coughed a little and swallowed. "here goes" Weaver held Franks hand while Miller poured some of the remaining vodka on the wound in an attempt to disinfect it even a little. Frank grunted and squeezed Weaver's hand. She looked worried and why wouldn't she? They were being hunted, had a wounded man and no way of knowing where the camp was. "you hold on Frank" a weak "sir" from Frank. He put the flask on Franks chest and stood up. He looked along the river up ahead, there was another bridge some 10 maybe 20 meters away but it had been destroyed, chunks of metal still stuck out the bank and the river but not much more was left of it.

A loud metallic sound broke the silence abruptly, like metal on metal. Some pebbles and small rocks fell down from the slope Connor just climbed. Weaver and Miller already had their weapons ready. For a short moment it was silent, then the sound of rapid fire, Connor screaming. "Shit!" They couldn't see what was up the bridge. "Get Frank up!" Weaver hoisted Franks arm over her shoulder and lifted him on his feet. They heard Connors angry screaming turn into screams of pain, the sound of crushing bones could be heard from where they were standing. The firing and screaming stopped. "Connor- fuck. Come on move, they found us!" Miller started running along the bank towards the destroyed bridge, maybe they could hide there. Weaver was close behind, half dragging Frank. He couldn't run. Miller turned to help but as he turned he saw a huge figure behind Frank and Weaver, towering above them. He raised his gun, aiming at the demon, and pulled the trigger. It was a carnotaurus, but bigger than most, just as he shot at it it bend down and slammed its head from the side against Frank and Weaver knocking them to the ground. Miller redirected his aim, trying to hit the beast. It roared, the sound more deafening that the shots from his automatic weapon. It turned towards Miller and simply stepped on Weaver and Frank, he couldn't do anything for them. The firing stopped and the gun clicked a few times"Fuck, fuck, fuck" he had emptied the magazine. He turned and ran for the destroyed bridge. It wasn't as far as the fog had made it seem, or the adrenaline made him fly. Behind him heavy footsteps sounded, it wasn't trying to be silent anymore. Miller expected to be slammed to the ground any second but the carno wasn't in a hurry. Like it was just calmly jogging behind him. Miller passed a big piece of straight metal sticking right out of the sand, not a good hiding spot. The next piece was bended and didn't come out of the sand that far, it looked too small to hide behind but as he passed it he saw a gap in the sand had formed behind it. Miller dove to the side and rolled into the gap and under the metal. As he laid there on his back in the cold sand he heard the carno passing. Hadn't it seen him dive?

He pulled the empty magazine from his gun, tossed it aside and reached for a new one in his belt. As he put the new magazine in the gun a strange sound could be heard. He didn't hear the carno anymore but what he did hear was a clicking, metallic sound, like metal armor, followed by a soft thud and then the metal again, repeating. He tried looking through the gap but saw only some grass and the grey sky. The sound stopped, he couldn't judge if it was close or not. Was he gonna lay in this hole forever? Everyone was dead and he was not just gonna lay here and wait for his turn. He crawled towards the opening of the gap and tried getting a better look at his surroundings but again saw nothing. Just the remains of the bridge. He pulled himself out and kept low. Scanning his surroundings while pointing his gun, listening for sounds, anything that could give away one of those damn birds. He looked towards the river, the bridge- something moved in the corner of his eye, that metallic sound again. He turned in a swift motion, aimed his gun and saw him. Right in front of him, standing at over three meters tall, was their leader. His bright yellow eyes looked right into Millers. He raised himself while he aimed but Interfector was already on top of him, his shots fired aimlessly towards the sky as he was knocked down. Huge claws ripped through his shirt and flesh, the weight of the enormous raptor broke his ribs upon impact with the ground. He didn't even have time to fight.