Lost in African Desert

The cool night air moving across Barett's arm, lazily draped out the open window of the beat-up 68' camero, was the most comfortable thing that had touched his body in the last 48 hours. The open desert was dark and quiet, the dirt road, if that is what you wanted to call it, more of a rut through the red dirt and low weeds, meandered mostly straight ahead, to the south. Utah Blaine sat next to him, almost unseen, all decked out in black combat gear, a subdued skull in camo painted on his face. Utah kept tapping the fuel gauge on the dash and swearing, the needle dropping faster than even this lead sled should comsume. Barett eased back in the seat, inhaling deeply, the stench of stale tobacco and spilled coffee invaded his nostrils, the stolen camero had done it's job, gotten them away from the complete cluster failure of the mission drop zone. But now they were heading south, instead of north to the pick up landing, gas slowly leaking out of the old car, lost temporarily somewhere in the desert.
That would not be so bad, if it wasn't for the fact the radio's were toast, so much for high impact plastics. Ammo was low, lest than 80 rounds between them and seperated from the rest of the team. The twin brothers sat silently in the dark, waiting for the last drops of gas to push the camero as far as it could. Utah pulled it to the side off into the sand and weeds, the ground was flat and open with no real cover, letting it roll to a stop. Stepping out onto the sandy ground they stared at each other. "Lets keep moving south, most roads go somewhere, or past something. Perhaps we can find a radio or phone to get an extraction point out of here." Barett says, nodding towards the south. " I agree, nothing left to do but look for a place to hold up and get a line out." Says Utah Blaine, weary with the only option being to walk through the desert in the dark.
The walk goes with out excitement for almost two hours, the night sky not lending much light to the road they are following. Soon the dim lights of a small settlement shimmer in the distance, not very bright they seem more like fires than incadesant lights. Barett guesses that it could be 10 miles or more away, and suggests they keep an eye out, about two miles later they hear a scream in the distance. The scream and the unknown village, not on the intel maps, make them very cautious. After some time they come across the bloody mess of a gut pile. Searching the organs they appear to have been humanoid, and the large paw prints show that something came this way not long ago. Following the prints they come to a small ravine hidden by the shadows and rocks. Down at the bottom they see the remains of a goatman shepard, local sandals and robes lay bloodied around the pile of torn flesh.
They are just setting up to follow the tracks when two figures race toward them, one on each side of the ravine. Moving quickly on all fours the first throws a small, metal dart at Barett the second one at Utah. The twins duck and seperate, Barett to the left Utah to the right. The first tango ( unknown figure ) jumps at Barett. Swinging his rifle stock up to block the blown, and knock him down he makes a lucky strike right across the bridge of the nose, cracking the skull and killing him. The second tango moves away as Utah strikes at it missing. Barett takes a couple of shots with the rifle but he has moved to far away in the dark for any more shots to be taken. After some discussion they decide to heads towards the small village.