Eric didn't know why he was being activated.
He was National Guard, so why was he being sent to backup a bunch of forest rangers in “Preservation of Natural Wildlife”? He had certainly never known that such a activation code existed. What was he doing, tranquilizing some wolves to go to a reservation? If so, why did they order full kit and equipment?
Something didn't seem right.
0835 “
“Damn it, those pigheaded- don't they know how hot it is out here? We don't need full kit to go play third hand for some rangers! Fuck me, we're gonna get casualties just from the heat.” David, from Eric's squad, wasn't a bad guy. However, his penchant for complaining about the exercise and whenever they had to assemble definitely made him the shining representation of the Guard as far as the other 'real' branches were concerned. “Well, maybe if you kept up with your PT, you wouldn't be one of them, you whiny bitch.” Franky, the squads unofficial NCO, was an ex marine who had decided he wanted more to protect his country than make war for it. He wholeheartedly embraced the job and took it deadly serious, but was usually found cracking jokes with the other 'grunts'. He brought real battle experience to the team and tried to give it to anyone willing. Some, however, just had the job for the money and didn't care to learn… David for instance. “Hey, don't give me that crap, I didn't join up for this shit man!” “Shouldn't have joined up then.”
The laughter that followed was semi-forced, but still well needed. Eric wasn't the only one wondering what the hell they were going to be doing…
2130 “
It seems nearly a whole brigade of NGmen were activated, which both relieved and further worried Eric. David seemed content that enough other people were here that he could skate by without doing much with just a few excuses. “Hey Franky,” said Eric, “I thought we were just gonna go catch some endangered deer or some shit, but holy shit man… look at all this shit! Those are artillery tubes, and fuck, are those APCs? What the fuck are we doing out here?” Frank looked at him seriously and said, “Hopefully something important. Probably something we cant talk about afterwards. Definitely something they wont be straight about. Be ready for anything man.” 
That response confirmed Eric's suspicions, and made him sure to get extra ammo.
0945 May 9th 
The (now full) battalion of Guardsmen were assembled to be briefed on their mission. Eric had found no luck in seeing if anyone else know what the hell they were doing there, other than some saying it must be a drill since they brought serious hardware. They had no answer as to why everyone had brought live rounds though.
“Oh shit Sarge, is that a Full Bird up there?” Said Stevens, a fairly new guardsmen. “Oh, shit you're right...Fuck, theres a Maj Gen too! Get military boys, we got big brass in here.” Said Eric, standing a little bit straighter. “Yo, Eric,” said Franky, not bothering with the rank, “You notice something else?” “Hmm?” said Eric, looking back to the podium. Suddenly he saw what Franky did and his guts twisted up. “Oh fuck me,” said Eric, having also been an enlisted man, he recognized those stern faced, sun-glassed men in uniform suits. “Fucking suits… this is bad.” “Mmmhmm.” Murmured Franky from down the line
“Ladies and gentlemen, I Know this is unorthodox,” addressed the Major General to the assembled men. “But we have a job to do here. There is an animal loose here that is a threat to the local ecology, and a credible threat to the local residents.” There were several seconds of curious whispers from the men. “I know you all have questions, but for the sake of national security I'll warn you I cant tell you what it is. Just that it isnt a normal animal, that you need to have eyes everywhere, and you WILL NOT be able to talk about this later.” This time, his pause was met only by silence from the crowd. They knew what that meant, and their brains were all abuzz with ideas on what waited for them in those woods.
None of them were comforting.
1509 “
They had apparently decided on a total coverage sweep deployment. Platoons were to be sent out into itersecting grid squares and deploy to sweep huge areas simultaneously. The problem with that was that as coverage areas got bigger, nearby manpower became less and less. So if you hit contact late into the sweep cycle, you better hope your radio doesnt shit the bed.
Sgt. Eric's squad was deployed with 4 other platoons to break off with one to sweep southwest, break off into squads along the way, and eventially break off further into individuals until they met friendlies heading the opposide direction. Eric's squad consisted of a butter bars 1stLT named Smithers with little real experience (but at least he listened to Franky and Eric, bowing to their supirior experience like a good 1stLT should), 2 PFCs named Sanders and Braves, a Specialist named Guadelupe Estehyeroso, Franky and himself. It would be a 9 hour march until they met friendlies heading the other direction, if they really booked it. This was gonna suck.
The sun was beginning to set by the time they radio-ed into base that they were setting up camp for the night. They lacked NVGs and IR, so they had little choice. The dissapointed sounding response from base told him all he needed to know, no-one else had found anything either.
Eric dug himself a hole with his e-tool before bedding down in his woobie.
He went to sleep praying to god that they wouldnt be the unlucky group to make contact.
2120 “
Eric and several members of his squad shot straight up, weapons in hand as a scream fell upon their ears.
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH”
In was high pitched and unnaturally long, but several miles away from them. Unfortunately it was in the direction they were heading.
They radio-ed in the noise and waited several minutes for the radio oporator to check with the other teams. “Uh… well the squads near and across from you didnt hear anything, maybe it was just a bobcat?” Squawked the man on the other end of the radio. “No way.” Said Franky, “Yeah, ive been out in the woods before, bobbies dont scream that long.” confirmed Eric just before another similar scream sounded out.
“...Roger radio… asset 9-2 confirms possible local fauna. Over and out.”
0658 May 10th 
Very few men had slept soundly the night before. But after a a Jalapeño Cheese MRE, any enlisted man feels like they can take on the entire USSR single handedly. So Eric was cheery and alert the next morning after breakfast, being one of the first to strap his pack back on and get ready to move out, right alongside Franky. 
“So, you thinking Jersey Devil?” 
“Of course, what else could it be? And even if it wasn't, thats what it'd be called if the news found it. One way or another, we are looking for an urban legend.” 
“Yeah.” replied Eric as Smithers walked up. 
“Whatchu boys talking about?” 
“Nothing sir, just whether we are looking for the jersey devil or sasquatch.” 
“Hmmph, you too? I thought only the privates were susceptible to bullshit.”
“With all due respect, sir, they don't deploy a battalion of Guardsmen for a raccoon.”
“Hmmph...” muttered the LT as he walked back to get his pack and maps.
“He'll learn.”
“Yeah, he will.”
0928 “
The squad was making good headway, on the last stretch of their search. Only about half an hour away from friendlies if they had gone the same speed.
So of course, thats when shit hit the fan.
They heard massive gunfire from up ahead, like an entire squad lighting something up.
“Down and ready!” snapped Eric as he sank to a knee and picked a direction “Radio, call it in.”
“Roger Sarge… Base, this is Asset 9-2, we hear gunfire, multiple shooters, seems to be 4 to 5 miles out.”
“Roger 9-2, which direction?”
“Uh, its seems to be straight past our Termination point, Base.”
“Roger that 9-2... We cant raise Delta 4-6, proceed to Termination point and wait for further orders.”
“Roger that base, Over and out.”
“Well, shit. Looks like we drew the short straw. Radio, advise our left and right of the situation in case we need them. Hell, radio their sister squads too.”
“Roger sarge.”
“Franky, your asshole clenched?”
“Shit, yours too?”
“Damnit, this isn't good.”
“Too right mate.”
The LT just looked back and forth at them, incredulous look on his face. “What?”
“You'll learn el-tee.”
“Whatever, lets move out.”
1100
They had reached the RV point and taken up positions. It had been quite some time before radio called in.
“Asset 9-2, this is Base, we still cant raise Delta, have you seen them?”
“9-2 to base, not hide nor hair.”
“Well then… proceed on 15.2 degrees south by southwest. You'll be looking for them.”
“Roger base, request reinforcement by Bravo 4-8 and Romeo 5-6.”
“Ill send Romeo 5-6, but Bravo will be standing by until their sister squad meets up with them.”
“Roger Base, Asset 9-2 heading out. Will advise, over.”
“Roger asset… good luck guys.”
“Roger base.”
1328 “
Eric's squad had just met up with Romeo and was heading out.
“So whats going down guys? We heard you called for extra hands and that you were moving up, but no deets.”
“Heard a squad letting loose, sister squads gone dark and didn't meet up with us.”
“Shit. This is it then huh?”
“Almost certainly, but base wont be sending anything else our way until we make contact… or go dark ourselves.”
Guadalupe quickly crossed himself as they walked.
WHOOMP, WHOOMP, SNAP... CRASH
Both squads took a knee as they heard the noise.
“What was that sarge?”
“Dunno… sounded like wings maybe? And a tree falling.”
“Fuck...Fuck.”
“You said it. Well… this is us I guess. Asset, lets break left. Bravo, you go right. Call it as you see it. Any objections el-tee?”
“Uh… no, thats a good plan… uh… well lets go.”
1334 “
“Got that tree over here sarge… maybe you should come take a look at it.”
“Roger braves, on my way.” said Eric as he headed over.
“Oh.”
“Right?”
The tree in question had been nearly a foot across, wholly health and green. And it had been snapped quite cleanly.
“Looks like impact force… fuck, are we looking for a flying rhino?”
“Fuck if I know sir.”
“Too right. Alright kid, lets catch up and tell the others, but theres probably no point radio-ing this in.”
After catching his and his sister squad's men up on what they had found, Eric found himself chambering his rifle and sighting up and to the north.
“What is it Sa-”
“FUCK?”
“FUCK!”
“FUCK.”
This very articulate conversation was about the figure hanging from the trees nearly 400 yards north from them. Even at that range they could tell that the creature was big, bigger than a bear. And it did indeed have huge, veiny wings, which it wrapped around itself, only the head visible, and very visibly staring at them.
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Came the terrible cry from the creature as it dropped from the tree and opened its wings.
“FUCK FUCK, ITS HEADING THIS WAY!”
“NO SHIT, SHOOT IT.”
“RADIO, CALL IT!”
BRRRRRRRRRRRAAAMMMPPPHHHHHHH
All the combined 13 men (minus the radioman) opened fire with their assorted m4s, coverted ACRs and even an m24, all letting loose at the airborne demon making a beeline for them.
It didn't seem to mind that much about the regular rifle rounds, only being minorly effected when everyone hit it at one, although when the m24 cracked at it, it did seem to feel its more powerful .338 Lapua round… even if it was only an annoyance.
“FUCK MY FUCK ITS STILL COMING!!?!”
“AAAH FUCK ITS COMING FOR ME!!!” Screamed Guadalupe as the monstrosity zeroed in on him. “FUCK ME, ITS A DEMON!!” He shouted as it sweeped in on him, still being peppered by assorted rounds. “AAAHHHHH!” 
It outstretched its wiry, yet well muscled arms as it swooped down, grabbing Guadeloupe by his thigh and neck, hardly slowing down as it flapped away. They saw what was left of him fall down in pieces mere moments after his screams were cut off.
“I GOT BRAVO AND BOTH SISTER SQUADS ON THEIR WAY, BASE IS ASKING FOR ARTY COORDS!”
“TELL EM WE'D RATHER GET CAS, THE FUCKER IS FLYING!”
While this was being shouted back and forth, the beast swung back around and flew off with a crying Smithers. His life ended with a 200 meter fall and a wet SMACK of an impact against some painfully sharp looking rocks.
“BASE SAYS 20 MIKES ON AIR SUPPORT, GAVE COORDS TO A CLEARING… TANKS WILL BE IMBOUND TO THERE WITHIN THE HOUR, ALONG WITH BIGGER GUNS!”
“ROMEO, TAKE LEAD, KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEADS DOWN AND GET US TO THAT CLEARIN- huWHOOMPH!”
Eric barely had time to register that the creature had zeroed onto him when he was shoved violently aside.
“Wha- FRANKY NO!”
Eric had seen enough movies to know what had happened, and skittered like a crab around to grab both of Franks ankles and pull the weight out from under him just as a pair of scaly looking hands swept into where he, and then Franky, had been mere moments ago.
“FUCK YOU, YOU DONT GET OUT THAT EASY!”
Grinned Eric at the surprised looking Franky, who quickly returned the grin.
“You saved my ass, I could fucking kiss you!”
“If we make it out of this, you can fucking marry me and fuck my sister, bigger issues right now… ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING! MOVE YOUR ASSES!”
1400”
The highly motivated guardsmen had made amazing time clearing the two miles to the RV point, meeting and dragging along Bravo and their sister squad along the way. Themselves sensing the urgency and spotting the humongous bat-horse-demon trying to flit between the trees to grab them. 
Once within the clearing, they set up position looking outwards and up, quickly digging themselves holes to take cover in.
“It doesn't seem to mind much about small arms,” mused Franky “Get small in those holes… if it comes in… make it work for it… we do have grenades.”
“Fuck me.” Commented Braves, “We're resorting to kamikaze bombing it...”
“Stow it braves.” Ordered Eric, “We don't need that shit, unfuck yourself.”
“Y...yes sir.”
1415 “
It had been a long fifteen minutes, Sanders and the LT from bravo having to resort to their grenades when it flew in, seemingly immune to military grade assault rifles. It certainly felt those grenades though, and it didn't like them. After the second one, it had retreated to the treelike, eying them angrily. 
Thats when they heard the deep WHUDWHUDWHUD of an approaching chopper.
Eric ran over to the radioman and dived into his hole “This is asset two one, approaching roter-wing, come in!”
“This is Beagle 5, approaching from 20 degrees south by southeast, looks like we are chopped to you. What do we got?” The voice of the Cobra gunship pilot responded lazily.
“We have contact with an unknown hostile creature, currently in the treeline to the north! Rifles don't seem to hurt it, grenades are just pissing it off. Do you have eyes on?”
“The fuck? You called in air support over a bear?” Chuckled the pilot, “No, not seeing anyth- hang on, what is that… switching to FLIR… WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???”
“Yeah, questions later, can you make it die for now?”
“...uh… Roger Asset, ill light him up for you.”
The confused cobra pilot did just that moments later, letting loose with its three barreled Gatling, knocking the creature off its perch and eliciting a screech, but little else. So the gunner decided to also let loose with several Hydra rockets AND a TOW missile for good measure. This pounded the creature into a crater, eliciting a cheer from the surviving infantry.
“Asset to Beagle, can you confirm the kill for me?”
“Haha, hilarious asset no way that… NOW WHAT IS THIS HAPPY HORSESHIT?!?”
Eric looked over his hole to see the creature crawling out of its crater, shaking itself off, and leaping into the sky towards the shocked cobra pilot, all the while screaming out its black fury.
“NONONONONO FUCK!!!” Howled the cobra pilot as the demonic creature rose up to meet him, “THIS IS NOT FUCKING HAPPENING!” He screamed as it flung itself into the fuselage between the tail toter and the main body, cleanly breaking it off.
“LOOK OUT BOYS, WE'RE QUICLY BECOMING INFANTRY!” Laughed the co-pilot over the radio shortly before they slammed into the ground with thunderous force.
“FUCK. I need two volunteers.” Cursed Eric.
“For what sarge?” Asked braves.
“I need one volunteer.” Replied Eric, louder this time.
“FUCK!” Shouted Braves, angrily.
“Yo, ill go mate, gotta keep that kid alive.” Said Franky with a grin.
“Alright, get the pilot and or copilot if they're alive. Don't Dilly dally.”
“Yes sir.” “Alright.”
“What are you waiting for, me to cook you lunch? MOVE!”
1417 “
Franky and braves returned moments later with an unconscious pilot and a co-pilot who was grinning from ear to ear, arm obviously broken but still toting a familiar looking rifle.
“Get them in a hole and get yourself in one, its really pissed now. RADIO, TELL BASE THAT BEAGLE IS DOWN, IT HAD NO VISIBLE EFFECT ON TARGET, AND WE ARE REQUESTING FAST MOVERS AND HEAVY ARMOR, BOTH EXPEDITED.” Eric breathed deeply, before deciding further.
“Fuck it, tell the whole brigade to meet us with everything the Maj Gen can muster.”
“Sir?”
“Get to talking son. I seriously doubt we have all night.”
“R… roger that sir...”
Eric dived into the hole with the copilot.
“So, you saw that thing take that TOW, right?”
“Sure did, I fired it after all.”
“Well shit, looks like we'll be eating dinner with the murder-hobos of hell then.”
“Probably.”
“Got a name man?”
“Alvin Davenport. Friends call me Chopper.”
“Alright chopper, why did you have a Mosin on a Cobra.”
“Family heirloom.” Came the heavily sarcastic, yet cryptic reply.
“Well, it fires a hotter round than any of us have, mind if I take it up with me? I doubt you'll be much use.” Said Eric, gesturing to Chopper's broken left arm. “But I think you'll be all right.” He continued smoothly and straight-faced.
“Did you just… Here, take it. I like you man.” Chopper said before bursting into laughter.
“Thanks. Oh, right. Welcome to the infantry.”
He climbed out to the confused faces peering out of their holes, followed by choppers howling laughter. “He'll be alright. Get back in your holes.”
1435 “
The monster had just decided it wanted another piece of the infantry when Eric picked up the polished, well oiled mosin. Immediately a voice filled his head “Чтo вы хoтитe гpeбaный cyka?» it said, in a strong russian accent, filling his head with thoughts of cold winters and dry tasteless food.
«What?… uh… Ктo этo cкaзaл?» He replied, in weak, broken russian.
«Ha, american. Typical. Now, what do you fucking want you Limp Хaны пoвoд для cyки лoшaди.»
«Well fuck you too, commie. Right now all i want is that fucking monster dead!» He shouted, realizing that it was his gun speaking, despite the insanity of the thought.
«мoнcтp, you say? Show me.»
The sargeant did exactly that, peeking out of his hole with the ancient rifle shouldered, aiming at the demon.
«гpeбaный cyкa! What in gods name is that?»
«The monster.»
«Smartass american. Just like last guy. Well, i dont know if i can punch through his hide, but i do have an idea… sight on his head, ill do the rest.»
«Fine, whatever, im already fighting the jersey devil and talking to a rifle, might as well listen to it.»
Eric centered the rings on the head of the massive monster and waited intil it was facing him to fire. 
Amazingly, his shot seemed to ring true, seeing as the creature staggered back, holding his face and letting out an earth splitting scream.
«What just happened???»
«I made boolit hit it in eye. Too bad it didnt go into brain. Whatever though, at least it hurt it.»
«Well… thats appreciated.» 
«Da, da, is what i do.»
«Yeah… alright. Well, im goint to hold here till armor moves in, thanks again… uh… gun.»
«Sure, anytime. Oh and American?»
«Yeah?»
«Be having good luck.»
«Yeah.»
1440 «
Eric didnt get too exited when he heard choppers in the distance, after all: they didnt have a stellar track record with this monster. But he did perk up at the sound of fast movers.
«Radio, whadduwe got?»
«Chinooks inbound with 6 m41 Walker Bulldogs, ac-130 giving support along with a whole fucking wing of a-10s sir!» He replied happily. «Base says get the fuck on the tanks, we are rolling back to the brigade FOB, a-10s will give rolling top cover and the Spectre will give periodic support… Looks like the Maj Gen took what you said to heart Sarge.» 
«It does indeed. Fucking A, lets show those tank boys that we aint no slouch!»
«Sir yes sir!»
1443
The tanks were dropped into the clearing, the creature at first took offense to this, but quickly retreated under the combined fire of 6 pintle-mounted Ma Deuces and a metric assload of pissed off infantry. Once down and unhooked, the tanks took aim at the creature, it seemed unprepared for the unholy hellstorm that followed. 6 Bulldogs opened fire with their long, 76mm main turrets at basically the same time.
This did more that surprise the angry demon, it basically vaporised it.
Finally the beast was dead.
«Hot damn, fucking took long enough.»
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
«OH FUCK MY ASS WITH A ZIPPO, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE REAMING ME WITH A RED HOT TIRE IRON WITH THIS AUTISTIC INBRED HORSE DEMON SHIT!»
«Fraid not sarge… three more of em by my count.»
«FUCK!»
«Fuck indeed sir.»
1550 «
The trek was slow, the tanks were smaller than MBTs, but still couldnt move much faster than infantry in these trees. And while their guns were big, and deadly, they couldnt hit these three demons, all flittering and zipping back and forth. The a-10s had done a good job driving them back over and over, but have still yet to connect, 2 who had dared to get lower and more accurate had been slammed into by the fucking monsters. The ac-130 could probably kill them, but they just kept moving, the gunner could never sight in a shot. 6 men had been pulled from the tank by them in attack passes, all before the roaring .50s could drive them off again. Morale was dropping, the men were losing hope. But they were really close to a batallion of NGman, being backed up by reservist army and marines, along with AA guns and SAMs, apparently the Maj Gen had decided to go public, and when the suited men had snuck into his office to 'dissuade' him, they had come out on stretchers, going straight to the ER.
Now the standing army had gotten emergency permission from the governer and the president himself to assist in the rescue of the National Guardsmen and, if possible, «The immediate and total destruction of those fucking monsters tearing through my men like wet paper.»
Of course, the media was skeptical, but they had been invited onto the FOB. «Hell, if we cant save those boys with what i brought in, then we cant do shit.»
1600 «
«Sarge, we're finally coming up on the base. They say keep our heads down and stay in a line.»
«The fuck do they have planned? Between speed and toughness we cant even hit these guys?»
«Sarge? Base said shut the fuck up and do as they said.»
«Fuck me man you werent supposed to relay that!»
«I didnt sir, but they think you're the LT, and they guessed you were bitching.»
«Hahaha, well whatever, relay to the column, stay in a line and get low on the armor.»
«Roger sir.»
1623 «
Major General Grant was tired of bullshit.
He was tired of goddamn spooks trying to be spooks.
He was tired of surgical strikes that didnt even hit who he wanted dead.
He was tired of the media calling his army worthless and childish.
And he was VERY tired of the fucking monster demons killing his Guardsmen.
And right now, he had a way to vent his frustration, with a virtual blank check from POTUS's own desk. And he was going to cash it.
«How is the setup going?»
«Snipers are in position.»
«Air wing holding in position too.»
«Engineers say the SAMs and AA guns are gppd to go.»
«Good, good, how far out are they?»
«About a quarter mile, sir.»
«Hmm, it might be tight, but hell with it. Tell the bombers to start their drop. Total coverage. Tell the engineers to open up in 30 seconds, 30 degrees of inclination, SAMs to fire at visual contact, snipers should take aim, and fighters engage at will, bet stay on this side of the AA.»
«On it sir.»
«We wont be brought low after all this time, by a fucking myth.»
1624
«RADIO, WHY DO I HEAR CARPETBOMBING HEADING TOWARDS US???»
«The Maj Gen says he has a plan, and its going to get really loud before its over… and that we better be in a line.»
«Shit, what is he thinking… Grant was always a sharp guy, but i got no idea. Just make sure we are fucking LAZER STRAIGHT, alright?»
«Roger sir.»
«Alright.»
1627 «
Eric's column exited the forest into the clearing surrounding the base, he was met by an entire line of AA guns and SAMs aimed just over head, the space between them occupied by prone infantry with McMillan Tac50 antimaterial rifles.
«Damn… i think we owe Maj Gen Grant a drink for this.»
And that was when the CAS opened up.
Maj General had an excellant plan: Cut off escape with old school b52 carpet bombing, which then pushed the devils into the FOB, where the constant AA fire kept them from getting the height advantage, and from the controlled position, the warthogs ran oblique sweeps as the SAMs homed in and the snipers took potshots.
The devils never stood a chance against such overwhelming firepower and genuine eagerness to destroy.
1700 «
It had been an exceptionally rough day, having seen the loss of nearly a dozen men, a cobra, and 2 warhogs. But they had made it, and killed all 4 of those impossibly tough creatures. The media had indeed dubbed them the Jersey Devils, and moaned about misuse of firepower. Of course. They had only seen what actually worked. 
After they had chased off the reporters, Eric and Grant met to shake hands and buy each other drinks. Chopper and Franky also joined them, the former shrugging off his pain pills in favor of corn grain alcohol.
Turns out that keeping their heads and staying alive had picked them up promotions all around, Eric making the unprecedented jump from SSGT to Captain. Franky getting all the way to 2LT. Everything went far better than expected really.