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Tacite curritur

Ulrike is busy giving instructions on the radio „Fischer, Krämer you two approach the car. You are coming in at an angle. Stay on the road. Take care not to get into our field of fire. Seidel, your M2 has to cover the creek. If something comes out of that ditch, blast it away. Do not wait for orders to open fire. Peterson, you stay behind the steering wheel, whatever happens, and everybody watch out. Do not deviate from your watch sectors. This can be a trap in the sense that we’ll be attacked from behind. If this is a trap, we’ll abandon the civillian car and the second ritual.“

Yeah, by that logic we should have somebody listening on the ground for burrowing enemies. And our car should not have gotten off the road, lest we hit mines hidden in a place people would have a reason to get off the road. And the enemy sort of has divided our force with us in the field for a better angle of fire and the other car having reversed staying on the road. But we are committed and I am a worrier without the boldness needed for command. My special gun sense has kicked in and I can sense where I am aiming and with which spread the bullets would land if I stay on the trigger. Still nothing from my new ability from the stone, apart from a desire that I press the trigger, which could just as well be nervousness.

We have decided against shooting up the woods. We are not sure whether monsters will react like animals. We might actually attract them if we start firing. They would certainly notice. A machine gun is loud. We are wearing ear protection with intercom sockets patching us into the radio.

They are approaching the car on the passenger side. As far as I can tell our men are keeping at the correct distance to support each other, but not to be taken out in one stroke. But then I am not a soldier.

A report comes in over the radio. I cannot tell whom from: „The windshield has a clean hole on the driver’s side. The amount of red painting the interior suggests that the object causing it continued its journey through the driver’s head.“. I scan the car for any sign of a trap, again.

The cop opens the door. No explosion. Instead he yells as if strangeled and jumps back. What to shoot at? He vomits. His partner has a stronger stomach „A dead child. Appears to be male, about three years of age. Obviously beyond medical help.“ His gun loaded with special bullets droops.

That moment a monster chooses to demonstrate to us that vomiting can save your life. Something spears through the car and has caught him, bending down as he empties his stomach, right through a shoulder instead of square through the chest.

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His partner throws himself to the side. The correct side, away from my field of fire. Instinct? Fear? A desire to get a view behind the car?

I hesitate. The monster or, worse - potentially multiple monsters, is behind the car. I cannot see it or them.

U: „Just shoot, damn you. Your bullets will go through the car.“

Seidel has opened fire on the creek. He is interpreting his instructions offensively.

I held down the trigger. The blue rod piercing Krämer is bending and extending, shoving him towards my line of fire. Something is taking the usage of human shields extremely literally. Fischer has recovered and apparently gotten so far to the right that he can see what I am supposed to be shooting at. He raises his G3 and starts shooting. Single fire. That man is cool under stress. His third shot actually hits. My new ability reacts I get somehing like an injection of raw power. Is that how narcotics feel? I have to cease firing lest I perforate Krämer beyond hope.

Fischer hits again. The power feels like evaporating out of my body. Inacceptable. Something precious is wasted. The only time I had felt a worse loss was staring down the road at the departing limousine the undertakers were in. The machine gun has become useless. „Ulrike, man the gun.“

I take my MP and my battle rifle and jump off the car. Fischer’s sixth shot as opposed to the fifth hits. I can run without a need to breathe heavier than normal at a speed I would be able to sustain only for a second, if at all.

Seidel is ceasing fire from his machine gun. I am so close to the creek that I can see behind the car. There is a large frog on duck legs. The blue rod is its tongue. Seidel is squeezing off aimed shots from his rifle. Is he shooting the tongue on the other side of the car? If so, he is a sharpshooter.

That frog has waited too long. Fischer jumps to the side again, as I lift my guns. That guy should be named Jumper. I go to full auto on both weapons. The frog has had enough. The tongue is retracting like pulled in by a powerful spring. And then for some reason it jumps onto the car, its simple mind probably figuring that if both sides are hurting it, it should get away from both sides. Fischer empties his magazine. That does it.

Peterson has been backing up towards the wreck. Seidel jumps down. He and Fischer get the wounded man into the back of their 4WD. We flee. I briefly contemplated protesting that we are abandoning our kill, but we have no idea whether that frog had friends now on the way to express their displeasure.

We arrive at base after a few very odd looks directed at me to the spectacle of a crowd of protestors shouting slogan.

» Wizards go home!

» Burn the witches!

» Our home is our home!

» We are not going anywhere!