Coat groaned as Helmet came sliding close on his knees. The older man quickly got to work pulling the fabric away to let Slacks sew the gashes shut while the other two surrounded the group with their backs pressed as close as possible.

“Damn beast,” Coat grumbled through a cough as his skin was pulled back together and cleaned.

“This is bad; it’s really deep,” Helmet replied sternly. His attention was glued to aiding the sniper with the wound, and he had no time to worry about the tone.

In the distance, a series of chilling howls—somewhere between a wolf’s cry and a bloodcurdling scream—began reverberating through the woods. More were coming, and the group lacked time or bullets.

Helmet cursed and threw one of Coat’s arms over his shoulder. The injured man was half lifted off the ground as he was supported.

“To the jeep, we need to get moving,” Helmet spat.

The others wasted no time loading up in the vehicle, guns still at the ready as the horrid howls grew closer and closer. They sped off in an instant, and Angela chased after from behind.

Unlike before, there was no time to be careful. Slacks pressed the pedal close to the floor and gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned pale. He leaned forward tightly and weaved as best as possible through the brush. Banging and scratching from some smaller foliage were clearly ignored, as the bald man did his best to avoid trees and other ample collision possibilities.

In the back, Glasses and Bandana held Coat in place as Helmet continued to treat the wounds amidst all the weaving and bouncing.

“I see red eyes!” Glasses shouted in a panic as he looked outside the window. Bandana pointed his gun outside the jeep and fired as a beast leaped from the woods. It whimpered as it fell and rolled across the ground.

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“It’s done; he’ll be okay for a moment.” Helmet said as he wiped the sweat from his brow. A moment to loosen up and a bump caused all the men in the back to fall into new positions.

“Careful!” Coat croaked as he held his newly closed wound.

“Its bumps or tree trunks!” Slacks shouted back.

“Is Angela okay?” Glasses asked as he shot a beast running alongside them. He turned to see a large pack of pursuers chasing between the jeep and the Reaper.

“They probably think the Reapers a friendly,” Helmet replied.

As two more attackers joined the pack behind the jeep, Angela took a more significant step—like a lunge—and stomped the pack behind them. The beasts that survived scattered along with a spray of oil-colored blood.

The four in the back of the jeep fired at the remaining beasts, but no matter how many hit the ground, the pack didn’t get any smaller.

“Did we stumble on a breeding ground?” Coat choked as he held strong against his gun's recoil.

“With our luck, anything’s possible,” Helmet replied.

“Break in tree line!” Slacks shouted moments before they sped out of the dense woods. The jeep made a hard bounce on some sharp rocks and began to rumble and shudder worse than in the woods. The sniper banged the wheel in frustration.

“Is the tire out?” Glasses cried.

Moments after leaving the woods, the pack of beasts burst from the trees, and seconds later, the yellow Reaper pushed through. The jeep halted as the front passenger tire gave way, and the group held their breath as the black wave of beasts approached.

Angela shrieked like a banshee, loud enough for all to hear, and the Reaper sped up. The machine stomped on the pursuers one by one, like it was trying to splash in rain puddles as the gap closed.

Perhaps sensing something was wrong, the beasts began to scatter and retreat to the forest while Angela finished the few stragglers with the Reaper’s feet and hands. As the scene quieted, the metal arm creaked while standing straight.

Seeing that it was safe, Coat fell and held his wounds tightly. The others jumped out and began changing the tire with the precision and speed of a pit-stop crew. Helmet, who remained inside, shook his head.

“It’s not good; we need to find a town quickly. Angela, follow us!” No sooner had he shouted did the others jump back in. Clumps of dirt flew out from the tires, and Slacks slammed the peddle to the floor; the Reaper chased after.