We ran across dirt roads, pausing every so often to seek shelter behind mud-brick walls and giant tree trunks as the sounds of heavy machine guns echoed all around. We couldn't tell where the bullets were coming from, or whether the main roads were safe. Behind us in the creeping dark, two critically injured men lay bleeding in the back of our pickup truck. We'd had to abandon it, and them, as the firing drew closer.Subscribe to Vice NewsFollow VICE News on TwitterLIKE Vice News on Facebook
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