Instead they had great, grinning mouths, mouths filled with dagger teeth that gnashed as they came on, as if anticipating biting into Royce and his fellows, of tearing and rending flesh and bone and gristle.
As if in a nightmare, Royce turned from the oncoming monsters, his numb legs starting to run for the sleeping building three blocks away. He ran for his gun, but his feet slapped the sand-covered road in slow motion. His heart boomed in his ears, a bass drum in the sudden cymbal crash of yells and screams behind him as the men scattered in different directions. His breath sobbed in and out, screeching like a badly tuned violin. Beneath the hellish symphony whispered the dry whir of the mutant alien creatures gaining on him.
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