The truck crunches over the gravel in front of the building, and comes to a halt. The sullen man at the wheel rubs his baggy eyes and glances at the dashboard clock.
"Six fucking o'clock in the morning," cougarclaws mutters to himself under his breath. "This better be worth it."
With a hard slam he shoves the car door shut, which almost drowns out the dull low-pitched white noise that begins at the same time as his private act of frustration into the sleepy morning Guam sunrise. cougarclaws twists his head to the right, seeking the source of the sudden aural disturbance of the dense lukewarm blanket-like fog.
It stands out, a sudden blur of flesh-toned motion to the right in a wall of dark emerald forestry. A stunted figure, moving in short jerky motions, staggers out from the tree line. As it emerges from the shadows, it raises the volume of its croaking groan while raising its bloodied raw hands in a clawed reach toward the origination of the slamming car door's sound.
"Holy shit" escapes from cougarclawss clenched jaws in a breathless whisper, as he hoists the pickaxe from his passenger seat. "This wasn't factored into my plans for the morning," he utters at the approaching monstrosity. He pockets the car keys and lights a cigar with his free hand, then braces into a squatting stance. The creature continues stumbling forward, then raises its head to stare with yellowed eyes from a pallid face smeared with a foul combination of dried blood and soil, and groans at a shouting level.
BANG BANG BANG BANG
Four loud gunshots ring out into the oppressing airborne moisture, and the monster stops in its tracks, eyes rolled back into its punctured head. With a final clasp of its stiffened dead-white farms, it falls to its side, limp ashy body collapsing on itself like a ragdoll. A voice rings out into the air, and cougarclaws shifts his frantic gaze to the top of the Sanford Building's roof. Karlo Dizon grins down on him, breaking a weary countenance with a brief glimpse of satisfaction, and pumps the action on his shotgun with a sharp staccato belying a practiced ease.
"You're gonna wanna get inside," he drawls across the several yards separating him from cougarclaws, as he trudges to the two-story ladder leaned against the brick wall. "You don't want to be caught out here when the rest of them home in on us from the smell, we've got to get hunkered down in the basement for a few days" he calls while his guest darts his gaze around at the surrounding wilderness and its constant whine of insect wings beating at the heavy atmosphere. cougarclaws starts a slow backpedal toward the front door, while shaking his head in disbelief.
