Minutes to Burn

Chapter 52

Derek sat silently on a log, holding the larva in his lap and gazing at its glassy eyes as the others reassembled the camp, doing their best to ignore him. The scorching sun had finally begun to work its way to the water.

Justin helped Szabla get the tent straightened out and they ran a sup-plies check. Tank and Savage strained to get the log back in line with the others around the fire, and Cameron helped Rex and Diego test their equipment.

The mantid body sprawled in the grass, attracting insects and birds. After Rex and Diego examined it, taking copious notes, Tank and Savage dragged the body a few hundred yards east of the camp and built a small pyre around it, using firewood and leaves. It took a few tries to get the body ignited, but once it got going, it burned quickly, crackling like a fly in a bug zapper. The fire rose like a teepee, a cone of light fighting off the dusk. They came back, rinsed with water from the canteen, and rubbed gel into their hands.

Derek's transmitter vibrated four times before he took note. Lethargi-cally, he tilted his head to his shoulder. "Mitchell. Public." The others gathered around quickly.

"Mitchell, it's Mako here." If Mako was waiting for a response, he didn't get one. "I just got a call from a colonel at Fort Detrick. Strickland. Do you know the name?"

Derek shook his head.

"No," Cameron said into her transmitter. "We don't."

"They're getting heavy into the science over there. Some kind of virus you guys are exposed to. Said it had to do with the mutated animal you were describing. That Denton fellow from the New Center's been leaning on Strickland and our old friend the Secretary of the Navy to get you guys extracted. Said you're in grave danger."

"Deja fuckin' vu," Savage growled.

"Problem is, that little rumble you kids just felt originated off the coast of Colombia. A significant number of our air assets were on the ground in Bogota. We sustained heavy damages; they're still sorting through the wreckage. I've been on the phone this last hour trying to find anything to pull you guys off that rock, but looks like we're snake eyes for the time being. The good news is, I managed to block out a Blackhawk and a C-130 for 2200 on the thirty-first. We'll have you out in fifty-two hours."

"We might be insect shit in fifty-two hours," Justin grumbled.

Derek and Mako stood off in silence, each waiting for the other to speak next.

"I'm sorry, soldier," Mako finally said. "It's the best we can do." He clicked out.

The others sat quietly for a few moments. Szabla rose and went to her tent.

Cameron walked over to Derek, stopping with one boot on the log beside him. "I'm gonna go check on the Estradas again, make sure they're all right," she said.

"Are you asking or telling me?" Derek said, his eyes not leaving the larva.

"Derek," Cameron said. "She's six months pregnant. I'm gonna go check on them."

Derek studied her for a few moments. "I'm not going with you. Grab a buddy."

Cameron signaled Justin with a flick of her head, and he followed her across the field to the road. They walked side by side, the watchtower looming ahead. In a few places, the ground had buckled up in scarps, four- to five-inch lips in the road.

"Derek is not Derek," Justin said after a few moments. "We might need to think about doing something."

Cameron did not respond.

They reached the bloque house and Cameron called out, anxious to see the couple. There was no answer. The air around them took on another shade of gray as the sun dipped out of sight behind a row of plantain trees.

Cameron called out again, noticing the strain in her voice.

They passed beneath the window and turned the corner. Cameron stepped through the doorway into the house. She stopped dead in her tracks, momentarily blocking Justin's view. He stepped around her, then also froze.

Ramon's body dangled from the ceiling near the fireplace, his face a deep blue above the noose. The chair lay on its side beneath his feet. The wall near the bed was splattered with crimson. Floreana lay on the mat-tress, draped in a bloody sheet. On the floor near the foot of the mat-tress was a gnarled little creature. Cameron looked at its still-moist head, the small broken claw curled up at the end of a stumpy limb.

She felt her stomach rising in her gullet. Justin leaned over, hands on his knees, sucking air until he regained control. He and Cameron stood beside each other for what must have been fifteen minutes, staring at the three bodies, stilling their emotions, sweating in the thick air.

Finally, Cameron crossed to the mattress. Justin reached after her and said her name once, but she did not slow. She reached down and grabbed a clean part of the sheet. Slowly, she pulled it off Floreana, revealing her lower body.

Cameron emitted a small, almost animal sound, a cry deep in her throat that rose sharp and faded quickly. She raised a hand to her face where it hovered, unsure of what to do. She looked down and saw that her other hand was clutching her belly.

She backed slowly away from the bed, refusing to lower her eyes to the baby-corpse on the floor. Justin watched her as she walked to the fireplace. She righted the chair, stood on it, and freed Ramon. His body flopped over her broad shoulders, bloodless arms dangling over her back. Justin stayed where he was. She was grateful to him for not offering to help. She carried Ramon to the bed and laid him beside his wife. Noticing the newly healed cut on his index finger, she wondered if that was the route by which the Darwin virus had entered his body. Or maybe it had reached Floreana directly. Cameron's feet felt numb beneath her legs, insensate blocks.

Her face felt hot, burning beneath the skin. She rarely became emotional, but when she did, she carried the signs clearly on her face. Blood-shot eyes, flushed cheeks, a redness along the bridge of her nose. Her mother had always said that it was her one tender trait.

Without a word, she turned and passed Justin, heading out into the twilight. After a moment, Justin followed her. He walked a few paces behind her back to the camp. Tank had started the fire up again; Cameron could see it from the road. She approached it slowly, the logs coming into view, then the soldiers.

Cameron reached the camp first. "We're killing them," she said.

Derek's head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"Whatever's carrying this virus."

"What are you… what are you talking about?"

"It can spread to humans. Floreana gave birth to a… thing. It killed her. Ramon hanged himself. If you'd seen it." Cameron inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. Her mind raced with more thoughts than she could grab hold of.

Diego took a step back and sat down heavily. Derek's fingers fluttered once, then formed themselves into fists. Cameron felt Szabla's eyes on her, steady and hard.

"We need to shift our objectives," Cameron continued. "We need to contain the virus. I'm not leaving this island until we exterminate all car-riers."

"That's not the mission," Derek said. "Those aren't your orders."

"Fuck the mission," Cameron said. "Fuck my orders."

Derek set the larva aside and stood, glowering. He came at her in a charge, but Tank and Justin stepped in his way, and then Savage and Szabla were up, both of them flanking Cameron protectively. Savage swung the heavy freezer bolt casually, whistling a couple bars of a melody.

Derek squared himself, pulling back his shoulders. He seemed stretched taut under the weight of it all, ready to snap. But if he made a second charge, there would be a fight, and there were four of them and Tank, and there was no way he'd dare.

Eyes wild, Derek looked from one face to the next. His mouth hung slightly open, but no words came out.

Cameron stepped out in front of the others. "I think we got it from here, LT," she said. She sounded miserable, even to herself.

Derek rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, blinking tight around them. He started to speak, but still nothing came, and he closed his mouth dumbly. He turned to the larva, which squirmed along the top of the log. It arched upward, its true legs extending like antennae.

With trembling fingers, Derek reached down and smoothed his hands on his worn cammy shirt. One of his cheeks was twitching, just beneath the eye. He glared at Cameron for a long time. She met his gaze, unblinking.

Lowering his head, he stepped around the others and walked into his tent.

The silence seemed to fill them up, separately and together. Diego started to walk toward the larva, but Szabla took his arm at the elbow, very gently, and held him back. She shook her head.

Cameron looked at Tank, and then at Derek's tent. Tank nodded and walked over, standing guard by Derek's flap. She caught Savage's eye and something passed between them.

Savage picked up the larva roughly, swinging it by its posterior end. It squealed, a rush of air creaking through its cuticle, and tried to curl itself upward. Its wiggling shadow fell across their faces as Savage passed them, taking the spike that Cameron silently offered and heading into the dark night behind the tents.

Rex did not look over. Diego closed his eyes, lowering his head. He sat down heavily.

The air swarmed around Cameron and she felt her head go light. She refused to look behind the tents, afraid she'd see Savage with the spike cocked back over his head. Diego's eyes remained closed, his breathing heavy and irregular. Cameron thought he might be crying.

They waited, each alone with their thoughts. No one made eye contact.

Finally, Savage's figure cut from the blackness. The larva dangled beside him like a rag doll, the back of its head caved in. He looked at Cameron. Cameron thought of the virus running through the larva's body and nodded at the fire. He swung the body once, up and into the fire, where it crackled in the flames.

Savage handed Cameron the spike and sat down beside Szabla on the log.

Diego cupped his hand over his forehead, rubbing it hard. "Jesus Christ," he whispered. "You didn't even hesitate."

A log shifted in the fire, sending up a spray of sparks. The air smelled of burning wood, fresh like pine. Thin bones became visible in the glowing husk of the larva's body.

Savage leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands dan-gling between his thighs. His bandanna was moist with sweat.

Szabla started to talk, but her voice was gravelly; she cleared her throat and started again. "Earlier, when you said you'd killed women and children. Was that true?"

Savage ran his tongue slowly across his teeth. "The jungle around Khe Sanh was riddled with tunnels," he said over the crackling fire. "If we came across spider holes, we'd drop grenades first and ask questions later." His hand made a loose gesture. "Never knew what you were gonna find when you looked in after." He laughed darkly, remembering. "A surprise every time, like a Cracker Jack prize."

Szabla watched him, leaning heavily on her hands until her ass rose up off the log. The others shifted uncomfortably but did not speak. Cameron's hand tightened around the spike until it grew numb and tin-gling, as though it were no longer part of her.

"Some surprises were worse than others. Sometimes they'd be moving families through the tunnels." Savage's face went slack. "Sometimes you'd be almost afraid to look down after, see what prize you won."

He stood abruptly. Cameron watched his bare back until it disap-peared through the flap of his tent.