Tomás ate his rations like it was his last meal, as it could as well be. He remembered his father back in the family’s farm: “When you eat, you sure as hell are living, too,” the old man used to say, when confronted by a child who didn’t want to eat, “so dig in and shut up.” He thought of his mother, of home, the clouds in the sky of his birthplace, the animals on the farm. He cherished those memories.

  Back then, he never would have thought that anything like what was happening was possible. When they drafted his unit to fight to protect the more metropolitan areas, he hopped on the army truck, saying goodbye to his parents and leaving the safety of the countryside to fight in another state, a duty he would carry willingly. But the news from home came and his will was shattered: the same thing that happened in the big cities also occurred in the small ones. For all that the reports said, Tomás’s birthplace was no more and his family was dead. The only thing that moved Tomás forward was his desire to help, lest he would succumb to an immense sadness.

  Tomás opened his eyes from his daydreaming.

  After they finished eating, the group started moving again.

  At the end of the villa, they stopped and Tomás looked at where the dragon was at. It didn't change position since they started moving towards it.

  Then Tomás started looking for a vantage point where he could hit the beast where it counted.

  "How do I get there?" Tomás said to Olivia while pointing at a two-stores building behind the dragon.

  Olivia pondered for a while and then said "You should get there by going back inside this villa and getting to the roof. If you go by there, you should be able to climb down on the street in the back of the building and get inside. Or you could hug the wall here and hope it doesn't see you."

  "Got it. The roof it is, then." Tomás was sweating from the anticipation. "Jonas, radio in the boys that I am moving into position. When I get there, I will radio you in. You two and the boys can move in when you hear my signal. It will be shots fired."

  Although it was the safest route, going through the roof was not the easiest route. Tomas' LMG was a M249, which, when loaded, weighted ten kilograms, plus two spare belts weighting two-point-five kilograms each, besides his attire, helmet, bulletproof vest and his backpack. He was easily carrying more than thirty kilograms.

  He gestured to Jonas to hold his weapon and backpack while he climbed. When he got atop the roof, he took back his equipment from Jonas, put back his backpack and his bandoleer and started heading to his vantage point. He saluted the two men below him and got on his way.

  Tomás tried to be as careful as possible, stepping slowly and crouching near the parapet of the roofs. The dragon seemed distracted, but the lingering feeling that it was toying with them was still nagging at Tomás' mind. It seemed too good to be true. But he got on anyways.

  When he got to where he could safely descend, he got down by using one of the house's windows, putting his LMG behind his back and carefully stepping down, not affording to throw his backpack for fear of making too mech noise.

  He made his way up the second floor of the commercial building, dodging the store merchandise on his way. When he got upstairs, he searched for some window and found one overlooking the dragon directly, as well as a veranda where he could mount a firing position. He crouched back down and picked up his walkie-talkie to radio Jonas and the Sargeant.

  "Sargeant? This is Tomás. I'm in position. Everything good on your side?"

  "Affirmative Corporal. Just waiting for your distraction." The Sargeant's voice come over the radio with heavy static.

  "Good. Shots fired is the signal. Godspeed sir.”

  ‘Okay. This is it then.’ Tomás thought. ‘Let’s do this by the book.’

  In their briefing, the soldiers were instructed to aim for the head, focusing on the eyes or the mouth. If not possible, strike the underbelly, where the scales were weaker. Tomás planned to do just that, hoping that he could focus his fire in the beast eyes.

  He left his backpack on the adjacent room and took out his spare mags. ‘No need to bear this burden any longer’ he thought. He checked the belts on the mags and then his gun. When he was satisfied, he stood up and picked his firing position: the veranda outlooking the Drake’s position.

  He decided to radio Jonas “Everything good on your side, Jonas? Where are you”

  “On your left, inside a garage” came Jonas’ response “You ready?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Tomás started firing. Firstly, he fired some slow shots as to attract the dragon’s attention. The thing started turning its head towards Tomás. When he got a good view of the thing’s eyes, he started shooting on full auto. The shots that hit the hard scales of the dragon’s face simply plinked of, falling harmlessly on the ground. It didn’t do much, but the Land Drake was getting annoyed.

  Tomás focused, taking his finger of the trigger and restarting his shots. This time, he aimed to snipe some shots directly on the weak points. The monster opened its mouth to roar and Tomás saw his opportunity. On full auto again, he shot again on the mouth of the beast. It flinched and closed its mouth, starting to look irritated. Again, seizing the opportunity, Tomás aimed for the eyes. Taking careful shots, he hit the Drake’s left eye two times, drawing a jet of blood.

  Blinded, the thing rammed Tomás’ position. Firing blindly at the advancing beast, Tomás ran to the adjacent room. He now had to reload, and he needed time. Getting out sight, he started the process reloading the belt fed machinegun.

  Tomás had trained for a while to be able to make a quick reload. As a machine gunner, he was expected to reload in, at best, five seconds. His best time was seven seconds. But in a combat situation like this, seven seconds felt like an eternity.

  While he reloaded, the Drake put its head inside the veranda, searching for his assailant with its one good eye. When he was finished, Tomás started getting ready to shoot again. This time, at this distance, he hoped he could be even more precise at hitting the thing's eyes. But also, being at this being, he noticed that the eye he had hit before was already healing, but the beast appeared to have lost its sight, at least momentarily.

  'They have a monstrous healing factor. It must be because of this that a direct hit is not enough to down these things in one go' Tomás thought 'A nice thing to pass on to command if not for the situation I'm in.'

  The thing started extending its head to have a better look at Tomás' position. Tomás seized this opportunity. He waited for the beast to almost put its entire head inside the adjacent room he was in. When its right eye came right ahead of Tomás, he assumed a standing firing position, aiming point blank at the eye socket. He hoped to hit it as many times as possible before the thing retracted again. And he started shooting.

  With the M249 rapid rate of fire, he hit the thing dozens of times in the span of some seconds, many of the shots hit their target but, again, it was not a fatal wound. The thing retracted its head, seeking to get away from its now unseen assailant. Tomás was successful in blinding the creature. He got out of his cover to keep hitting the monster just to find the thing waiting for him, jaws open, eyes bleeding, preparing a breath attack.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  From what Tomás knew, these Drakes had a form of lava attack. They apparently regurgitate the rocks or concrete that they ate and propelled it forward as a superheated lava that seared through almost anything it touched. Besides as an attack the Drakes used when cornered, they also used it to facilitate eating tall buildings by toppling down the highest floors.

  Tomás acted quickly. He grabbed his backpack that was in the room and started running to the room side window. For his preparations, he had already left the window open for any case of emergency. He started shooting at the open mouth of the Drake, hitting the soft tissue but not causing much damage.

  When the attack was about to burst, Tomás jumped through the open window and hit the roof of an adjacent one-store building. The attack hit the wall of the room like a massive water ballon, splashing the liquefied concrete inside the room and spots of superheated lava were seen making holes in the building blocks.

  The heat was so intense some parts of the wall began to form bubbles of red-hot cement. One of these bubbles burst and hit Tomás in his right arm, causing him to grunt in pain. The molten thing quickly attached to the clothing in his arm and burned heavily. Tomás was in immeasurable pain. He tried to quickly get rid of his shirt but working with just one arm was hard. After moments of excruciating pain, he finally was able to tear the arm of his uniform, revealing the intensity of the burns: in some points, he could even see his bone, exposed with the charred meat of his arm. He was fighting back not to scream but held on.

  The thing, noticing that Tomás had escaped, simply raised its head and broke the now weakened roof structure of the building. It roared, casting a deafening sound that prompted Tomás to try and cover his ears. He now was in open terrain, ready to be swallowed. He was not going down easily then. With his now useless arm, he went prone and started shooting the rest of his magazine just so the thing's attention remained on him.

  'Where the fuck is Jonas?' thought Tomás.

  Just as he was about to mentally curse his squad mate again, he heard the sound of an explosion. The beast flinched. Tomás, without taking his eyes off the beast, reloaded his gun again, now a very arduous task. He couldn't see where Jonas had struck, but he didn't plan on giving the beast some rest. 'Last one hundred rounds. Let's make them count.' He changed the fire rate of his gun down and started shooting again, carefully making the shots hit the Drake's head. The beast, unsure of where to look and not knowing where the new assailant was, focused again on Tomás, this time advancing on his position, smashing the building on its path.

  Tomás stood up and continued shooting from the hip while he retreated, but his shot went wild. He used his gun bandoleer and picked up his backpack. He stepped back until there was nowhere to go but to jump down on the street below. He slipped out his backpack and threw it as far as he could, hoping that nothing inside would break. By now, the Drake was halfway to his position, struggling to stay atop the fragile roof of the precarious residences. The beast advanced, almost running, now finally getting used to the ground it was stepping.

  Tomás jumped down the three meters that separated him from the ground, aiming to fall atop a parked car in the sidewalk, a fact that Tomás couldn't help but notice was irregular parking. 'Thank God for this irresponsible driver' he thought. His thought was cut short as he landed, his now wounded arm aching and making him almost cry in pain.

  Just as Tomás was regaining himself, the beast head appeared above him, its toothy grin almost mocking the wounded soldier. Tomás raised his machine gun in an uncomfortable firing position. Using his one good arm for support while his wounded pulled the trigger, almost none of his shots found their target. The beast opened its jaws again, the characteristic glow of the superheated concrete appearing inside the thing's throat.

  'Well, this is it then. Just hope the guys make the most of this chance' Tomás thought, leaning back on the car's roof. Accepting his death, Tomás didn't stop firing.

  Then, from Tomás right, came a rocket flying directly to the thing’s head. It was a direct hit. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the Drake’s head and obstructed Tomás vison of his target. He stopped shooting and looked to the side where the rocket had come from. Gustavo was there, crouched, with Silva handing him his next round.

  “Good shooting!!” yelled Tomás.

  They acknowledged and focused back on the target. When Tomás looked back up and noticed the Drake’s blood falling on him in a macabre rain. Some fell on his mouth and, gasping for air as he was, he swallowed some. It was sweet, like a very sugared juice. He could not help but crave for more so he stood there with his mouth open, waiting for more to reach him. He drank every drop that fell on him.

  But now, Tomás looked back up from his stupor and noticed the Drake falling from the roofs that couldn’t sustain its weight. Tomás stood up back again and got down from the car roof and ran to the other side of the street, inside another commercial build. The thing came down with a loud crash, smashing the cars that were on the street and crunching the walls of the buildings.

  The sensation didn’t leave Tomás’ mouth. He wished for more. He needed more. He dropped his now empty machine gun and backpack. The building he was at was a hardware shop. On the walls, a myriad of tools and utensils loitered the store. He noticed an axe on the wall next to him. He picked it up.

  ----

  Outside, Gustavo was lining up for another shot. His only shot left. He had steeled himself on this crucial part of the hunt because of a very simple reason: from the group that separated from Jonas and Tomás, the only ones left were he and Sergeant Silva. The rest fled, or rather deserted, when the Sergeant weren’t looking, all at once. The Seargent was furious. Gustavo knew that the situation was dire, but to do it now was a huge backstab. When Jonas and Tomás confirmed they were in position, the Sergeant couldn’t bring himself to tell the two about the mass desertion.

  But now wasn’t the time to think about it. The Drake had fallen but it was not down. Gustavo was some fifty meters away from the beast. From this distance he was sure that he could hit it.

  “I’m ready Sarge!!” he yelled.

  “So, shoot boy!!” the Sergeant bellowed.

  “Get clear!!” there was nobody behind him and he had no worries about hitting anyone, but Gustavo still followed the protocol.

  The rocket flew, exiting the barrel of the launcher at incredible speed. His rocket, one Brazilian made ALAC, had an effective penetration of about 300 mm of armor with its thermobaric warhead. The missile had proved itself, so far, a reliable mean of bringing down the Drakes, but Gustavo knew very well that they normally needed three shots to bring them down.

  With an explosion, the rocket hit the dragon again directly in the head. This time, Gustavo was able to see a huge hole in the monster’s head. He commemorated, looking at the Sergeant.

  “You did it boy!!” the Sergeant said, hugging him.

  They jumped around, feeling the joy of the win wash over them, Gustavo discarding the now useless chamber of the missile. But, when they made another full spin, they noticed the Drake still moving, trying to stand up.

  “Shit! Use the grenades!!” yelled Silva. He grabbed Gustavo’s grenade and started running towards the Drake.

  Gustavo collapsed, his legs giving in to fear. After all they had done, it was still not enough and the monster was still standing. He watched as the Sergeant tried to run before the thing regained itself.

  But, from out of a side building, came Corporal Tomás brandishing an axe, a normal one, used to split wood. With a twohanded grip, he ran to the Drake, faster than the Sergeant, and cut downwards directly in the now exposed meat of the monster neck. He hacked, delivering blow after blow in the same spot, getting closer and closer to cut the head of the beast.

  The Drake didn’t stand still. He tried to stand up again, just to be pulled to the ground by Tomás, brandishing the axe now as some kind of meat hook. He hacked again, exposing the bones on the thing’s neck.

  “The grenades!!” he yelled at Silva. The astonished Sergeant was still taking the scene in, not sure if he believed what he was seeing. He handed the two grenades over to the man, and now brandishing his rifle. He shot the downed thing two times before Tomás stopped him. “Save it. Now run!!!”

  Silva ran without looking back. Tomás stuffed the grenades inside the still regenerating wound he created. He held the grenades in place until the regenerating meat covered them. In a moment of lucidity, he noticed that his right arm was healed. The charred muscles and exposed bones were no more. He cursed his luck and pressed on.

  Tomás pulled the pins, removing his hands from the grotesque mass the Drake’s head had become. He ran and crouched for cover behind one of the closest cars.

  The explosion came after some seconds. Instead of smoke, the place was covered in the gore, blood and pieces of the Drake. Tomás left the cover and inspected the scene. When he got to the Drake, the thing’s head was disconnected from its neck, with blood flowing freely from the open wound. Tomás got the call again, compelling him to drink the blood. He fought the feeling, knowing that nothing this good was free. He felt strong and his arm was healed, but he knew it must have come with a cost, a dear one at that, he just hoped that it would not kill him.

  “Tomás? You good son?” Silva asked, coming from behind his cover to inspect the scene too.

  It broke Tomás from his trance, his mind becoming a little clearer now. He took in the absurdity of it all, with him charging a Drake with nothing more than a wood axe.

  “You seem a little odd. Are you alright?” Silva’s question nagged at Tomás mind, but he paid it no mind.

  “I’m alright, sir. Just not believing what we did.” Tomás looked at his arms, unsure if he was indeed alive, remembering what his arm looked like just a moment ago.

  “Well, you did it, son. Let’s regroup and brief ourselves.”

  With that, Tomás finally noticed the absence of the rest of the unit. “Where are the other guys?”

  “It’s that we must talk about. Come on, let’s go search for Jonas.”