“Damn it,” Mars turns to John, “Get out of here man, I will be right on your heels.” Picking up a nearby rock, Mars throws it down the corridor, hoping that at least a couple of the creatures will chase after it. He waits until the snarling, slobbering beasts are right in front of him; he slams the mace into its face as it jumped at him, its claws slashing through his blue coveralls, blood welling along the four marks. The hit is solid, the creature howls in agony as it crashes to the floor, skull crushed.<br/><br/>Mars turns and runs after the other two, the army’s training kicking in, he keeps the other two in front of him as they high tail down the corridor.