The transient contact was back—a shadow moved around the same pillar John used for cover. It moved faster than an Elite—as fast as John.
	He fired his rifle point blank into the shadowy silhouette. It didn’t slow—it only howled with rage.
	Will and Fred fired three-round bursts from their rifles into the creature. It flinched with each bullet impact.
	...
	John struggled and tried to pry the hands from his throat. The tendons in the Brute’s forearms were solid bands of steel—and the creature was so determined to rip John’s head off that a full clip from a rifle into its chest hadn’t even slowed it down.