anuary 02, 2035
04:00 hours
Somewhere off the coast of Orlando, FL in the Atlantic Ocean.
Rita's body punched the cold water so hard it knocked the breath right out of her lungs. She gasped as she tried to surge ahead, but stumbled and fell beneath the waves. It was a horrifying moment as she tried to fight the heavy weight of her gun and gear. The water chilled her to the bone and it was also she could do to force herself to the surface.
Once above the waves her ears registered the screams and shouts of other soldiers. Soldiers that had already made it to the front lines.
She froze. Staying in one spot and treading water seemed a far better fate than that of her comrades who were being killed in droves.
Suddenly, an aircraft that had transported the soldiers made a nose dive for the Ocean, it's tail a beacon of fire. It hit the water a few yards behind Rita creating a massive wave. The unforgiving water grabbed her and whisked her away to shore.
Rita's chest was the first to hit the rocky beach.
"Get your fucking gun in front of you," a Lieutenant to her right bellowed.
With frozen hands Rita forced the weapon from the sand and placed it in front of her. She was shaking uncontrollably and knew she wouldn't be able to hit a damn thing if she didn't calm down.
The large head of a Jackal appeared over her.
Rita fell flat on her back. It took her a moment to register the enemy. It was the first time she was face-to-face with her foe or in actual combat. Training had been rushed; they turned out soldiers by the dozens within a few weeks. Nothing really could prepare you for fighting an unworldly creature.
She could hear someone begging her to shoot as the animal bore down on her.
Rita squeezed the trigger and let the bullets pepper the area where the beast danced from side to side trying to dodge bullets. It was sluggish and Rita could make out a wound in its side from a previous fought. The knowledge her adversary was weak encouraged her, and she forced herself to a kneeling position. This time she took aim and watched as the bullets ripped into it's gray hide.
It's black eyes rolled into the back of it's head and it fell to the ground as its body convulsed in its last moments of life.
Panting, Rita forced her wobbly legs under her and turned to look to her Lieutenant for praise. Her breath caught in her throat as she made out his charred remains. While she had been fighting, he'd been blasted to pieces.
Rita hurled. While vomit spewed out of her rage replaced the previous contents. She could feel the heat of anger seep through her.
With a passionate cry, Rita charged up the rocky embankment. Her eyes were met with a gruesome sight of mangled soldiers and Jackals alike. She didn't have much time to meditate on the scene. She dropped to her belly and started aiming at the enemy that was pouring in.
This was suppose to be a sneak attack since the Jackals were not extremely fond of salt water. It burned their skin. Apparently, they had been prepared due to their large, assembled numbers.
Rita could see the huge tanks that were equipped with gallons of salt water spraying at anything that moved. They were used to set up a perimeter and it worked for the most part until the Jackals became too restless. When they were enraged with impatience, they would drive themselves forward shrieking as they encountered the water.
Generals were screaming for their men and woman to keep moving forward. No one really wanted to take any more ground, but if it wasn't taken by day, the area would be overrun by nightfall and they'd lose another territory.
Rita continued to fire into the packs of Jackals. She knew she was suppose to be moving forward, but she couldn't will herself to budge. She wanted to live.
"Please, just let me live through this," she cried as she reloaded her weapon.
Without warning, a grisly hand wrapped around her ankle and yanked her back. Rita screamed as she felt herself being flung through the air. Her gun went sailing in the opposite direction and clattered a few feet away.
Her scream ended when her back met the earth. A shadow loomed over her and teeth flashed. She felt the intense sensation of something biting into her side.
"No!" she howled and her hands found the mouth and tried to pry herself free.
Two giant hands gripped her own and pinned them down. Jackals liked to feast while their victim was still alive.
"Not me," Rita shrieked. She remembered the knife in her boot. She hit the heel of her boot on the ground and a blade stuck out the front. With all the strength she could muster, she swung her leg up and into its thick hide. The knife stuck. Rita could feel its sticky blood oozing down her leg, but the jaws loosened. Her adrenaline spiked and she jerked her leg up the length of the creature's body. She had no idea her thigh possessed so much power, but she felt like a rocket was attached to it. With a terrible will to live, Rita yanked the blade back out and stuck it into the beast's underbelly. She jerked her leg up to her chest again.
The Jackal dug its long, spindly fingers into her shoulders and started snapping at her throat.
Rita clawed at its neck even as the immense pain of its nails lodged in her shoulders increased. She could feel her energy beginning to wain as blood gushed out of her side and her shoulders.
Suddenly, there was relief. Rita's eyes rolled back and she coughed up blood as the large creature left her mangled body.
Within those few still moments, her adrenaline died off and she could feel herself rapidly becoming colder and her fingers going numb.
Is this what it's like to die? Rita wondered.
"But I don't want to die," Rita sobbed. "I don't wanna die."
Rita knew all too well that no medics would come to the rescue. The fact they had even had doctors was a joke. Often times, there were just far to many wounded to treat for any medical personnel to be of use. They needed doctors in hospitals not on the battle field. Before long, only nurses ran crazy trying to ease the suffering.
"That's good, that's good." Rita's pleading was cut short by a masculine voice that seemed situated by her face.
"You wanna live, right?" His voice was hushed and urgent.
"Yes," Rita cried, "please save me. Don't leave me to die here alone."
"Shhhh, shhhh, you have to be quiet now or they'll hear us. I'm going to help you now, but only and I mean only, if you give me your consent to use any means necessary. Huh? How about it?"
Rita felt calmer; weaker. A lump had built in her throat and her vision was blurring.
"Come on, Soldier, I need your consent. You wanna live, don't you?"
Rita's head flopped to the side and she managed to gurgle a weak yes. Then her world went black.
