<USS Avalon> Survivors: Day Three...the shadows attack...

The low growling seemed to come from all around them, as if from the cave walls 
themselves. The flickering of the firelight seemed to encourage them as it cast 
shadow upon shadow around and between them. 
 
"Stand ready," Mac ordered all who could hold a weapon as they encircled the 
wounded. Please God, he whispered, harkening back to the beliefs of his 
childhood. Help me keep them safe.
 
They came from everywhere at once, diving growling, tearing with claws and 
teeth. They fired their weapons as one, and yet it did little to hold them off. 
Instead of attacking those who fired, the shadows, for indeed save for those 
terrible teeth and claws they hardly seemed to be real at all, veered toward 
the helpless wounded now. 
 
"Oh, hell no!" Ezra Lincoln shouted, as he joined the ranks of those placing 
themselves between the creatures and his patients, firing all the while. He 
felt the claws tear through his right shoulder and almost dropped the weapon. 
Shifting it quickly to his left hand he continued firing nonstop until the 
blood-loss forced him to sit hard upon the ground. 
 
"LINC!" Mac shouted, seeing the shadows move toward him. Mac dove between them, 
crying out as claws slashed through skin. 
 
Rae turned quickly. "MAC, NO…" she cried as he went down. 
 
A fierce roar resounded around them, unlike anything they’d heard from the 
shadows so far. The fires went out.
 
Time froze.
 
(to be continued)

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