Time.  In the heat of battle, there was no greater enemy.  When adrenaline forced itself through overtaxed veins and death itself was close at hand, time could shift and alter itself as fluidly as the tide.  As bullets soared past or a bloodied claw raked downwards, it could slow to a halt, and in the next instant a thousand soldiers could die without nary a warning or a whisper.  There was no use defining time in a warzone, for it could work for you one moment and against you the next.  Tabetha was lucky.  Time had always been on her side.<br/><br/>The rush of people provided a clear advantage.  The monster behind her would have to barrel through them, and it wasn't big enough for its momentum to go unchanged.  Now was not the time to run.  The scent of blood was in the air, and it was intoxicating.<br/><br/>She turned suddenly, the heels of her boots cracking against the pavement and flinging dust into the air.  The assault rifle came up first, spraying a quick burst of bullets as soon as the rushing civilians gave her a clear shot at the thing.  Even as it charged forward, it was impossible to tell exactly what it was.  Not that it mattered.  Those bursts spent, the rifle was slung against the magnetized holster on her back, and her freed hand immediately went for the pistol.  Two extra clips, and the gun itself was already loaded.  It wouldn't buy nearly enough time.  Precision was key.<br/><br/>Instead of aiming right for what she assumed the thing called a head, her sights went straight for the legs.  She unloaded the clip at every joint she could find, particularly at the nearest legs.  She didn't wait to see if the shots connected, but rolled to the right and behind the nearest civilians.