The morning dew did nothing to dissipate the stink of the scene. Crimson splashes on the moist ground around the jeep, that looked more like modern art at the moment than a vehicle, seemed to frame the scene in all its grisly glory. The whole area still pulsed and flared with alternating blue and red lights. The coroner on the scene estimated that there were at least two bodies here, but after he threw up the second time, he wasn’t sure.Dawn had yet to fully stretch over the scene casting long shadows over the sections of highway they were on. Bits of bone and skin spread wide over the entire scene as if someone had taken a human body and threw it in a chipper, letting the pieces fall in chaotic patterns.
Titus Morgan squatted down, looking over the scene and taking it all in. He got the call from his partner Morales around three in the morning after his last animating of the night. They had driven until just before dawn to get to this section of the Natchez Trace. They were right in the middle of the Tombigbee National Forest, a very large section of uninhabited woods and swamp for anything to hide in perfectly. When they arrived, Titus could still see steam rolling off the larger pieces of meat that laid about the road. That was an hour ago. Now the bits of meat were cooler now. He had already seen the trail leading back into the woods, a deformed and large set of footprints moved into the tree line and back into the wilderness where it waited. It may have been watching them right now Titus thought. Eyes narrowed to slits as he focused into the trees, beyond them, through them.
“Morgan, your package is finally here.”
Titus shook out the feeling he wasn’t the only predator nearby and stood up, smiling to Morales and patting him on the shoulder. Morales had driven down giving Titus a few hours to sleep, which was much needed. They walked over to a humvee with a few camouflaged personnel standing at the back of it. Titus looked towards one of them and then into the back of the vehicle.
“Are you Morgan?” One of them said, looking a bit nervous as he stood there. Titus just gave a nod.
“Our Staff Sergeant told us to bring this down right away, by order of the Federal Government. I have to ask though sir, do you know how to shoot one of these?” The boy (no more than 20) reminded Titus of himself. He still had the look in his eyes that the world was still a good place no matter what. Titus still believed in good, but there was always a time and a place.
Titus gave a smile to the young Private that didn't quite reached his eyes, then pushed past the enlisted men. Reaching into the back of the vehicle, Titus produced a large, but very light weight rifle. The Barrett XM500 was still in an “experimental” stage. It was deployed in a few key locations in Afghanistan and Iraq but the majority of the rifles were still in the states, while they underwent final trials. Titus filed all the paper work and they deemed the killing of a troll a great way to show the mobility and strength of the .50 caliber rifle. They had provided an advanced MARS sight. There was a small device under the front of the barrel, a small camera that would record the kill for testing reasons.
“You bring the rounds with you?” Titus asked the one that spoke as he cycled the weapon a few times to check the action and pull. With a squeeze the gun dry fired into the ground, nothing more than a subtle click from inside.
“Yes sir, magnesium tipped, copper jacket with an iron, silver, and gold core. As you asked they made grooves in the shape of a cross on the front of the bullet.” The man said as he handed a box of ammunition with a few spare magazines that reminded Titus of old Nintendo cartridges.
“Must be a big goddamned suckhead to warrant a holy bullet that big,” one of them said with a laugh that was more jackass than human. A few of them joined in as Titus sat the gun down and pulled out one of the bullets looking it over.
“No, Private,” Titus said quietly, but with venom in his tone, as he began to load the magazines. The magazine springs put up a fight as he slid the rounds in. “When the bullet enters the body, the grooves split open. The jacket will break up into the body while the core pushes through into the meat and hopefully through major organs. The magnesium will turn the core into a gummy substance if not turning it liquid. A troll has hide as thick as an elephants and the last one seen alive was when your great grandfather was a kid.” Titus loaded the magazine into the weapon and pulled the bolt back. Releasing the bolt, a bullet was placed into the barrel. With the click of the safety, he finally put the gun down on the hood of his Charger, parked near the humvee.
“Then why don’t you have us run in there with a couple of trucks and run this thing down?"
“Because,” Titus said, “you’d be dead within an hour of entering the forest.”
He said nothing more, simply nodding a thank you to the one he originally spoke to. Titus grabbed the rifle and moved it towards the table the ambulance service set up behind their vehicle. He placed all his armaments out to look at before putting them on. He had the XM500, an M203 with a stock, his P14 with tracer rounds and finally his kukri.
“Are you not taking any armor in there?” Morales said as he faced the woods, maybe he was getting that being watched vibe too.
Titus turned, “Nah, the armor will only slow me down. I don’t have anything thick enough to stop anything that troll is wanting to give me.
“Look, when I go in, I want you to contact the Park Ranger station in Ackerman and close the park. I got the GPS on and I’ll send word when I get this thing. Also, I might have back up on the way, just let them follow me in. You’ll know them when you see them, they’ll be the only ones stupid enough to come in after me.”
“Anything else,” Morales said, looking back towards the tree line.
“If I’m not out of there by night fall I’m probably dead. Notify the head Marshal. He’ll come up with something.”
Titus removed the shirt he had on. He was in a pair of black BDU’s with his boots and a black A-shirt. From the back of the ambulance, Titus grabbed a few things of water, a handful of power bars and stuffed them into the backpack he was putting all the spare ammo in. Finally he started to strap on the armaments. His pistol and the M203 were in thigh rigs. He tightened the bandolier of 40mm’s on his side and shouldered the XM500. Finally he tied the kukri on his calf, it looked a little obvious with the handle sticking out, but it was in a quick place to grab, should the need arise. He leaned against the back of the ambulance and stretched out his calves, all the while saying a silent prayer. Titus didn’t go to church as often as he had wanted but he never faltered in his faith.
He finished up and grabbed a piece of gauze from the ambulance. He grabbed a bottle of ammonia and doused the gauze in it. The smell was undeniable. Tying the gauze around his left boot, he left a bit hanging so it would drag the ground creating a very solid trail of where he was going.
“Wish me luck,” Titus said to Morales as he hopped a bit, testing the security of how he was strapped in.
“Go die in a fire.”
“Thanks hon,” Titus smiled and gave a chiding wink to Morales. With that said, he started into the woods following the troll’s trail.
