68

On they come! If you thought they were loud before, now their grunts and growls, added to the stamping of their furious charge, rise to the level of a freight train. It sends your pulse into orbit as you psych yourself up.

Timing is everything. If you shoot too soon, the horn-heads may not even register the sound. If you fire too late…no, that doesn't bear thinking about. You have no idea when it's the right time. To make matters worse, the dirt beneath your feet shakes so badly that you want to whirl around and flee—an urge you must fight.

The dust cloud sweeps in ahead of them, enveloping you in a choking haze. It stings your eyes and sends you into a coughing fit. You didn't think to tie a damp cloth over your mouth and nose. As the triceratopses thunder toward your encampment like a platoon of tanks, somehow you find within yourself the strength to stand your ground. Snorting and growling, the massive lead dinosaur fixes upon you. Drawing upon reserves that you didn't know you possessed, you fire.

It jumps, a note of panic filling its eyes.

You fire again! Then a third time.

Closer and Closer