Captain Stanley Duval was at a loss.
He'd checked every map, every birds-eye photograph of the area that the FPD had at their disposal, and all of them showed a spacious opening in the brush located directly below their current position.
Erin turned away from the controls to face the captain, her widened eyes brimming with confusion and anxiety. She had always trusted him, and he had never done or said anything to incur her doubtfulness. His calm and collected manner—the air about him that said he knew exactly what he was doing—that had allowed her to keep cool on so many missions… it wasn't there anymore. A quick look around the cabin showed that the entire team was similarly disquieted, a sight which did very little to help.
Fully aware of the panic threatening to grip his crew, Stan's head began a frantic search for an explanation. He opened his mouth, preparing to say something, but all he could manage was a weak "Ummmm." He looked up from a spot on the floor and saw that Erin had returned her attention to the controls. Not only that, but it appeared that she was preparing to make an emergency landing.
What the hell is she doing?
A deafening clang rang out, seeming to suggest that they'd struck something. The chopper was starting to shake with steadily increasing vehemence. Everyone in the cabin was on the edge of a full-on freak-out. Ross held Jill's hand tightly. As the tremors continued, she leaned in and threw her arms around him. Normally, he certainly wouldn't complain about such a thing, but in such a desperate situation, it seemed so unlike Jill that it only fuelled his apprehension, something which he struggled to repress for Jill's sake.
Stephen Frisk, the rookie, was repeating the phrase "Holy shit, we're going to die" with consistent frequency, as if he was saying a regular self-help type mantra. As it was, he was helping no one.
The chant grew louder and louder until it was suddenly drowned out by a second clanging noise, and the chopper ceased to shake. Erin offered the captain a thumbs-up, though her hand was visibly trembling. The captain's gaze moved from her raised thumb up to her face, which was matted with a nervous grin, and he was able to deduce that Erin had found sufficient enough space to perform an emergency landing maneuver.
He passed the thumbs up on to the rest of the team. It seemed to do very little to alleviate the tension, but they were able to correctly interpret it as a signal to move out. Jill slowly withdrew her arms from around Ross as the door slid open, and hastily filed past him to exit.
Stepping into the forest from the interior of the helicopter was like stepping onto another planet; the whirring of the blades replaced by the chirping of crickets, the steady stream of cool air replaced by a blanket of humidity. Almost immediately after her own boots hit the ground, Ross hopped out, followed by Carrick, who stayed by the chopper to distribute equipment.
Ross, scanning the area ahead of him, couldn't help but notice that Jill had already drawn her gun. The Beretta sat smugly in her right hand as her left hand gripped a flashlight, her right arm crossed over her left.
Something about the look on her face told him that he may want to consider readying his own weapon.
His hand hit a pocket on the green tactical vest, fumbling for a moment before producing a speedloader. With his other hand, he retrieved his revolver and swung out the cylinder to load it.
There was a rustling noise behind him as he finished dealing with his gun. Something was moving through the grass, and it was closing in at a startling speed.
Ross spun around, gun pointed outwards, to see Carrick, wearing an incredulous expression as he looked down the barrel of the gun.
Ross lowered the weapon as Jill strode up beside him.
"Sorry, dude." He apologized to Carrick.
"It's quite alright," Carrick assured him, "…remind me again why you carry a revolver? Do you know how many advantages a semi has compared to that thing?"
"Ammo capacity, for one thing." Jill chimed in.
"Reload time," Carrick added.
Jill brought her hand across Ross's chest just to spin the cylinder of the M66. "Plus… doesn't it jam?"
"If you bury it, maybe." Ross said flatly, grabbing Jill's arm and pulling it from in front of him to around his shoulders. Jill retracted it and resumed her cautionary stance.
The unmistakable noise of a shotgun being cocked came from the direction of the copter, and the three looked over to see Andrew strolling up, quite casually, toting a SPAS-12.
"Shotguns beat everything," he said upon reaching them. "Say, where's the rest of Delta?"
The radio affixed to Ross's waist erupted into static for a moment, causing everyone in the small group to jump. After a second, the noise dropped out and the distinctive voice of Captain Duval came through.
"Professor, I'm breaking the team into two groups. As pointman, you'll be expected to lead your current group." Another moment of white noise followed before "And Officer Valentine?"
Jill looked directly at Ross's belt as if the radio itself was addressing her.
"You'll be expected to keep McWard in check. There's a fog coming in, so try to stay close. The hospital is due north. Radio me when you get there and we'll establish a rendezvous point."
Ross pressed the button without detaching the device from his belt.
"Yes, sir."
"Hear that, Ross?"
Jill's voice was laden with an almost uncharacteristically mischievous quality.
"Yeah." he responded, waving his hand forward to instruct the others to begin marching.
"So you know," Andrew spoke up as he moved up beside Ross, "if you're bad, she has permission to spank you."
"What?" Carrick exclaimed. "All I heard was 'spank'."
Jill, who had somehow gotten a meter or so ahead of the rest of the group, stopped abruptly, holding her hand up to instruct the others to follow her example.
All around them, there was a mysterious rustling. The leaves above them broke into violent tremors, and an eerie whispering sound spread through the trees. Everyone looked up when suddenly—
Nothing happened.
"Well, that was anticlimactic." Carrick stated before continuing to walk forward. As he passed Jill, she grabbed his arm and he stopped again. Dark shapes dropping from the trees, hitting the ground noiselessly. One of the shapes expanded, taking on a roughly humanoid form. The rest followed.
Andrew leaned over and whispered "…Ninjas."
As ridiculous as that sounded, it was the most likely explanation any of them, including Jill, could devise. The group stood in silence, waiting for the forest ninjas to make the first move.
A terrible screeching, like a rusty door hinge, resounded through the forest, and one of the figures began to advance.
How human it appeared seemed to correlate with the speed at which it moved: as it accelerated, it began to move like an ape, and then like a large cat.
The creature was no closer than three meters to the officers when it leapt at them, limbs outstretched, tearing through the shroud of fog and landing directly in front of Jill.
Ross couldn't help but be fascinated by the creature. Apparently sensing his gaze on it, the creature jumped to its left, plopping down a few feet in front of Ross.
The beast seemed to be studying him in return.
It looked something like a hybrid of a snake and a predatory cat, only with elongated front limbs which it used to balance itself, not unlike a chimpanzee. It cocked its head, issuing a steady clicking noise from its throat.
The creature sprang backwards a bit, emitting another shrill cry, and bared its fangs menacingly. It lifted its forelimbs and tensed its hind legs, poised to pounce on Ross, but he merely continued examining it.
BLAM!
A bullet caught the beast just below the jaw. Dark blood gushed from the resulting hole, but the thing still stood.
Ross looked to Jill, wide-eyed. She discharged another round from her Beretta, this time striking the monster near its left eye. With a pained squeal, the creature slumped onto the damp forest ground, twitching slightly.
Catching sight of their fallen comrade, the other figures charged.
One exploded forth from the fog, coming right at Jill.
Without thinking, Ross stepped behind her, balancing his arm on her shoulder, and fired.
The .357 round met its mark, entering the creature's opened mouth and tearing through the back of its skull.
Just as one fell, however, three more emerged.
"Run." Ross muttered.
No one needed to be told twice.