The Mare seemed to take great care with not chewing off the man's leg. Sandra knew from her research that Mares hunted for the kill. This Mare placed the terrified crewman down almost with a gentle care of a parent to a child. No wound was upon him from where the Mare had held him within its jaw. It seemed to contemplate him for a moment, before turning its attention back to the entrance to the escape pod, the crewman, thinking he was forgotten about, made to flee from the towering creature, only to be put down by a thud of its right scythe through his abdomen. The abomination took no notice of the kill it just made, and continued to busy itself with obtaining the crew trapped inside the pod.
Sandra ran to Decius who was handing out extra ammunition to other soldiers who fired their weapons into the advancing sea of red. He curtly tossed her a heavy bag of supplies, and ordered her to pass it out to the soldiers towards Solomon. Mares mixed in with the blue armour, the scene was chaotic. The Mares didn't seem to be overly fond of killing with their jaws as they normally did. Their previously short arms never acted during the killing or feeding aspect of the creatures life, so they were extremely awkward with the new length of their arm-scythes delivering killing blows. They simply grabbed softly at the humans with their ever effective jaws, placed them in the tall grass and then tried to infect then through the scythe-claw hands. Most could get away with their lives if they were quick enough, some, were not so lucky, if another Mare was close by, it also tried to infect. And now, pale blue Banshee's were coming from the trees with unnatural speed.
Solomon stared and swallowed in acceptance. This was his death. He hoped only to kill a few more, and his passing be swift. He had already felled some of the foul beasts, but not enough to please his pride. He would go on, and kill more. "Fix Bayonets!" he roared, attaching his combat bayonet to the end of his rifle. He charged forwards firing his remaining bullets, projecting his very own roar that could place fear even into the Grim Reaper itself. Ramming his blade into a beast again and again until the nerves from its brain stopped sending signals to twitch, then he moved on, blood thirsty and angry. He would avenge Kyril and Eve. Make his enemies pay for every bit of blood they could collect.
On his third bayonet kill, Solomon ceased his frenzy. Something brought him back from his bloodlust. He found himself surrounded by the dead Mare mutants and advancing Banshee killing machines, but below all the cries and roars of battle, Solomon heard something that gave him hope. Hope of victory. A hope of living through the fight.
A ridge to the south seemed to emanate a strange noise, a different type of roar, it seemed to create hope with the destructive power it brought with it. However the ground did not quake, but Solomon jumped with new found glorious strength as he witnessed a the armoured bodies charging forth from the ridge, as a midnight blue tide bringing death and saviour with it. Lucius gave the loudest and most intimidating roar as what was left of his escape pod crew charged down the banking and smashed into the mixed horde of humans, Banshee and mutated Mares. Some of Solomon's survivors had fled, most had died and began to turn into the putrid disgusting Banshee. "Form up!" Solomon cried to whomever still was alive. Decius and Sandra quickly joined shoulders with him and a couple of other crewmen who had shown signs of battle but still bore weapons with ammunition. Solomon's heart sank as Lyra was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the tall grass hid her form. Then a sudden realisation sliced its way unwelcoming into his thoughts. She wouldn't respond to orders and would be hidden by the tall grass If she was dead. He began calling out her name, wildly darting from one blood speckled spot in the grass to another, checking the bodies. All showed signs of Banshee conversion, but none bearing resemblance to Lyra.
At this moment, two Gryph Hovercopters came to assist the humans, the fleeing Gryph soldiers had retreated back to their transport only because the humans held up the monsters that pursued. They came back to return a favour once they dropped off their cargo and wounded elsewhere. One stooped low to offer close support and to pick up any near humans, wounded or unhurt. The other hovered a little higher, firing large arcs of blue fire from its hull side mounted weapons. This gained the attention of the Mares.