A man got up from his seat as he saw a soldier coming into the room.

“Clark? Any news?” he said.

“Jake, sorry man,” said the soldier as his words forebode something terrible.

“Say it,” Jake said. Both his hands grasped over the broad shoulders of the soldier.

“The two choppers we sent didn’t respond,” said Clark the soldier. Jake froze in place staring at Clark like in a daze. He didn’t want to believe it.

“No, there’s probably something wrong with the comms-link?” he said.

“Sorry man, but the choppers are gone. They’re no rescues,” said Clark.

Clark tapped on the shoulder of Jake as he left the room. Jake stood there staring at the empty space still in disbelief. It took him a while as he sat down on the nearby chair, slouching as his eyes were still in a daze.

“No, no, no, no!” he got up and kicked the chair out of anger. His fists were clenched tightly as if at any moment he would burst into a fitting rage.

“No!” he shouted slamming the desk with both of his fists. Jake sat back on the chair as his hands grabbed over his hair. He remembered it clearly the first day he met his partner, Detective Maria Lopez. They were at odds with each other like Tom and Jerry, he remembered the days he bickered with Det. Lopez over the cases they were investigating. They were constantly at odds but the end result was best for both of them.

Case after cases they were known as the star duo of 98th precinct police station. Even though they always fought with each other, Jake Moretti knew that when in the danger she would always have his back. Jake remembered the shootout at the Bronx, it was some leftover drug cartel who was at the brink of extinction. Moretti and Lopez took the lead of arresting those drug dealers but the unfortunate happened. He was shot, bleeding profusely. He thought he was dying. But his partner didn’t give up on him. Det. Lopez fended off those drug dealers and cartels while at the same time dragging his sorry ass away from the dangerous scene. She saved his life and he owed it to her.

But now, he failed her. He couldn’t save her life. What kind of partner left the other behind? He massaged his head a few times as he tried to keep it together. They’re still a lot of people counting on him. Both he and the rest of the surviving New Yorkers that are under his wing need to escape from this hell hole city.

A man came in a rush.

“Detective, the military is on the move. Those monsters are advancing,” said the man.

The man noticed Det. Moretti being out of it. Out of concern, he asked.

“Detective are you okay?”

Det. Moretti got up from his seat and straightened up the tactical vest over his shirt.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of this city.”

--

Two days after the invasion stopped.

In a motel somewhere in New Jersey, a man was on the floor surrounded by piles of empty bottles. The leftover pizza on the table was at the point of being close to rotten. Clothes were all over the bed. The sunlight breached the gap between the curtains shining upon the man who was half-naked with his white undies.

He frowned as the sunlight was annoying him. His hand swung around at the sunlight, a futile attempt of chasing away the sunlight. The door to his room was knocked. But the man lay there motionless with no intention of getting up. The knock kept on coming and out of annoyance the man stood up and opened the door. A soldier stood at the door front. It was Clark.

“Jake,” said Clark. He scanned Jake from top to bottom and with that stench getting out of the room, Clark knew this old friend of his wasn’t in his best condition.

“What?” Jake asked.

“I’ll be transferring to Miami, they said the situation isn’t that bad compared to New York,” Clark said.

“Oh, okay,” Jake replied. He turned his head around and closed the door not bothered by the appearance of this soldier. Before the door was shut close, Clark held the door. He opened it wide as he saw the whole room. It was a mess.

“Jake, you need to snap out of this. You need to move on,” said Clark. Yet the man in himself didn’t bother listening to words of his own friend. He was picking up bottles on the floor trying to see whether there was anything left.

“People died man, a lot of them. You need to wake up, those things, those UC are out there preparing who knows what,” said Clark as his tone raised by a notch.

Clark’s attempt to helping his friend was useless. This friend of his refused to accept the reality of it, drowning himself in sorrow in a rather unhealthy way.

“Sorry man. That’s all I’ve got to say. Good luck and try not to get yourself killed,” Clark left the room leaving Jake by his own self. Jake stood there motionless staring at the beige wall with his eyes looking like a dead fish. Lifeless with no hope.

The growling stomach made him put his clothes. He wore a thicker coat as the weather was turning rather chilly. Winter was just around the corner. Jake got out of the motel and walked by the street side. His mustang was crushed into nothing by a damn monster and his favorite clothes no longer adorned his body. He lost all motivation to dressing himself into the 80s fashion.

The only thing that remained was guilt over his partner’s death. He remembered that day when he was supposed to tag along with her to a hotel. She was going undercover as an escort while he would be acting as a pimp. But he bailed out on her and went to the other side of the city doing his own investigation. If he had just gone along with her, at least both of them had the chance to survived.

While deep in thought, he stumbled on his feet and lost his balance. He fell to the side of the road tumbling down to the Memorial Waterfront Park. There was dirt in his mouth as he spat it out. He looked around and saw the park was empty. It made sense since it was close to Staten Island which was now infested with UC. A glance at the landmass across the river made him lost his appetite.

He dragged his feet over to the end of the park. The calm water was just a foot away from him. Yet his eyes were staring at New York City. Some tall buildings were no longer there while a few survived whatever calamity that happened. The stoic dead look on his face changed. He was scowling directing whatever anger he had to those monsters in that city. He picked up pebbles on the ground and throwing towards the city.

"Fuck,” he said.

“Fucking die,” he vented his anger.

All those pebbles fell into the river. He kept on throwing, repeating this useless action of his until his breath was ragged. His nostrils were flaring and his face flushed in red. The fatigue took over his body and he slumped on the ground trying to catch his breath.

He couldn’t move on. He left his partner and that was a fact. Yesterday, his mother called him many times trying to get him fly back to his hometown. But he refused. He preferred being swallowed up by his own remorse and guilt. He laid his eyes on the body of water yet something caught within his sight.

An oddity that piqued his interest. He came closer to the fence that separated him between land and river. He looked down and saw something being knocked to the edge of the port. It looks familiar, like a dog or it might be a cat. Jake looked around and found something useful, an old fishing rod thrown into a trash can. It seemed to be broken as the line was bundled up into a mess. Probably a novice fisherman fed up on not catching anything.

Jake grabbed the rod and went back to the thing in the water. Using the rod he reached out to it trying to see whether that thing is alive or not. Although he was grieving, he still couldn’t let an innocent cat or dog drown in the river. Yet, the moment the end of the rod touched the thing, it moved.

His whole body was pulled towards the river as something was tugging the old rod in his hand. Jake looked down and saw it was biting at the rod but then he noticed the creature looking up at him. His whole body shivered as he knew what this thing was.

He was about to let go but it was too late. The creature pulled itself up using the rod and leaped into the air. Jake backed a few steps as he witnessed the thing landed on the ground. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A small dinosaur, similar to a raptor. If Jason was here, he would know what this thing was, the mini-velociraptor. It was drenched by the water of the river but it was still lively opening and closing its jaw of razor-sharp teeth. It was staring at Jake with those slit eyes.

Jake didn’t know what to do. His hands were scouring all over his clothes trying to find his gun. But then he remembered, he left it at the motel. He didn’t know what else to do. He should have been running by now but his body was too weak. The late-night drinking last night was showing its terrible effect.

Then the mini-velociraptor moved.

Jake closed his eyes fearing the creature in front of him. But after a while, nothing happened. He opened his eyes and saw the mini-velociraptor on the ground. It wasn’t moving as it barely let out a soft growl. Jake grew closer to it and saw that this mini-velociraptor was weak. It was at the end of its life as it had no more energy to even move. That last jumped on to the ground might probably be the last spurt that it had. Seeing this thing at death bed, the fear he had slowly vanished.

But something else replaced it. Anger enveloped his entire mind. He dropped down to his knees and punched the hell out of the dying mini-velociraptor. Both of his fists slammed over the feeble creature.

“It’s all your fault. Fucking monsters,” said Jake. He kept on cursing at the creature while delivering his own sense of justice. But unknown to him, his punches were worthless to the creature. It felt like a massage, a going-away present before it met death. It didn’t even bleed by Jake’s punches.

Yet after a few minutes passed by, the mini-velociraptor drew its last breath as its life ended.

Meanwhile, Jake couldn’t stop his rage as he kept on punching. But then, he stopped. His eyes were shaking as something appeared in his line of sight.

“What the hell?”

The blue window greeted him as he has been awakened.