Minutes to Burn

Chapter 55

30 Dec 07

MISSION DAY 6

For the first time in nearly 120 hours, Derek slept. He dreamed of Jacqueline's eyes, enigmatic swirling pools as dark as blood. He could have sworn they were lighter once, that they flickered with some hidden illumination, but maybe that had been his imagination.

The Night Of, he'd gone alone to midnight mass. The drive home afterward was peaceful, but the air had choked out of him when his house first loomed in view. It had looked different, imperceptibly yet ter-rifyingly altered. Branches had curled into the sky, skeletal fingers straining toward the moon. Shadows had fallen in chunks and blocks about the yard at all the wrong angles; the yellow paint had grown wan; the front door had gleamed as if afire. He'd known at once that something was dreadfully wrong within.

He stirred from his sleep, the inside of the tent lit green from the can-vas. His dreams had been painfully vivid. He raised the flap of the tent and peered out, feeling like a captive, which he supposed he was. Tank sat on the log facing the forest. A spike leaned against the log beside him.

Derek almost stopped breathing when he saw the larva across the fire pit from Tank, its thorax elevated, its head tilted. It must have come from the west, inching into camp under cover of the tall grass while Tank watched the forest. Was it the same one? Maybe they hadn't killed it after all. With quiet, stealthy movements, he crept from his tent to the larva, his eyes trained on Tank's back. Though it was early, the sun had already begun its daily assault on the island; Derek felt it tingling across his cheeks and forehead.

When he got closer, he could tell that it was a different larva. It was significantly fatter and its eyes were lopsided, the left one a good half inch higher. This larva was over three feet long. It swung its head over, taking in Derek. He saw the gills along its neck flutter slightly, its thin antennae bobbing. Its eyes caught the first ray of the rising sun and reflected it back in twinning prisms.

Derek closed his eyes and an image flashed out at him from the dark-ness-Jacqueline's head raised high and proud, eyes ablaze like a prophetess's, a smudge of blood across her cheek. Behind her, curtains fluttering in the nighttime breeze.

When Derek looked at the larva again, he couldn't help thinking of the small, helpless face of his daughter. He inched forward, careful not to alert Tank, and raised the larva to his chest, supporting its weight with an arm along its underbelly. He held it, feeling the smooth cuticle of the head against his cheek. Its prolegs clung to him. Its cool head brushing his chin, he backtracked around the dead fire.

He almost dropped the larva when he saw Tank looking at him across the ashes of the fire pit. Derek instinctively turned the larva away from Tank, as if to shield it from his glare. He noticed Tank's hand tighten in a fist around the spike at his side, and before he knew what he was doing, he was off and running, clutching the larva to his chest, one hand hooked around its abdomen and one supporting its head.

He heard Tank shout behind him, but he kept running across the grassy field and into the forest, the branches snapping across his face until it was streaked with blood.

Cameron and the others were out of their tents by the time Tank returned from the pursuit. "Derek," Tank said, pointing and breathing hard. They stood watching the edge of the forest, as if Derek were going to reappear. Savage cursed under his breath.

"He has one," Tank said. "A larva."

"You'd better come clean with me!" Savage snapped, turning to the others. "What the fuck is going on here?"

The other soldiers looked at one another, deciding who would speak.

"Derek had an accident with his baby," Cameron finally said. "With his baby girl."

"What the fuck does that mean? An accident."

"Look," Cameron said. "It's not important. Let's deal with the problems at hand."

"This is a problem at hand."

"There's no need to waste time getting into details. His wife had post-partum psychosis. There was an accident. Derek's fucked up. He has a larva. Let's move on."

"What else did he take?" Rex asked. "A spike, a flare? What?"

"Well, I think he had a flare in his cargo pocket," Justin said. "That leaves us three." He looked around, double-checking. "The spikes are all here."

"All right," Cameron said. She stared at the ascending sun, trying not to squint. Morning already. She turned to Rex. "What's our time frame for metamorphosis?"

"I don't know, but I'd imagine soon. As Donald said, these things are turning over generations as quickly as possible. We saw that one molt already-they're on wildly accelerated development curves. Could be days. Could be less."

Justin checked his watch. "We may or may not be here."

"We could spend all our time today building traps for when the larvae transform, but I still think it's better to strike preemptively instead of waiting around and dealing with a bigger problem," Szabla said. "Let's see if we can round up any larvae this morning. We'll muster at 1300, at which time we can discuss Plan B."

"So the top order of business is still hunting down the larvae. We've got…" Cameron paused, counting in her head. "Two unaccounted for and a third with Derek."

"What about Derek?" Justin asked.

"I'll deal with Derek," Savage said.

"Don't even think about hurting him," Cameron snapped.

"You're not his mother," Szabla said. "Not anymore."

"What's your plan for dealing with him?" Rex asked Cameron.

"I'm hoping if he has some time, he'll come around. I'll try to contact him by transmitter in a bit. Hopefully, he'll reactivate it so I can reach him."

Savage smirked. "Think you can take care of business, do you?"

"Yes," Cameron said, feeling oddly unnerved by his patronizing grin. "I do."

Szabla tapped the spike twice in the palm of her hand, where it left a streak of dirt. "We can't fuck around with those things metamorphosing. If you see Mitchell and he won't cooperate, you're cleared to use reason-able force." She caught Cameron's eye across the fire pit. "I'm sorry."

"It won't come to that," Cameron said. "If anything, he'll hide. Pro-tect the larva. Even though he's gone off the deep end, he won't want to start fighting us. He'll just disappear."

Savage played with his knife, digging something out of the sole of his boot with the tip. "It's a small island," he said.

"If Derek decided to hide in an elevator, it would take you weeks to find him," Cameron said. "He's a world-class soldier."

Savage squinted in the sunlight. "Doesn't seem to be playing the part on this little cruise."

Rex turned to Diego. "We should collect a few more water samples from the coast, hope they're all normal under the microscope." He looked at Cameron with concern. "A microscope analysis is probably not going to be sufficient for the final reckoning, but for now, it'll have to do."

"The rest of us'll go into the forest," Cameron said. "Szabla, Savage and I'll carry the flares. We only have three, so don't burn 'em unless you mean it. Justin, you and Szabla are the only intact team at this point, so you should recon together and I'll go with Tank and Savage."

"I'd rather you, Justin, and Tank teamed off," Szabla said.

"I don't think-"

"Didn't realize you were the OIC here," Szabla said.

Cameron bit her lip, debating whether it was worth getting into right now. "You're right," she finally said. "I'm not."

"Okay," Szabla said. "I pair with Savage."

"I'm sure you do," Justin muttered.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"What the fuck do you think it means, Szabla? Keep your dick hol-stered."

Szabla lunged for Justin, but Cameron caught her around the waist and threw her back. Savage seized Cameron's arm, and she grabbed his wrist, stepping back with his momentum and yanking him off balance. As he stumbled forward, she locked his arm by snapping the heel of her other hand to the back of his elbow. She drove him down onto his knees, then his chest, pressuring the elbow so it was almost hyperextended.

Savage grunted, his cheek against the ground, a swirl of dirt kicking up with his breath. Cameron kept the pressure on to prevent him from reaching for his knife.

Cameron stepped across Savage's arm, twisting it and holding it firmly between her legs as she faced the others. Though her hair was hooked behind her ear, it curved forward, forming a point just under the side of her mouth. Szabla started forward but froze when Cameron tightened her hold on Savage's arm.

"We are not pulling this Lord of the Flies bullshit," Cameron said. "Because it's stupid, because it doesn't make sense, but most of all because we don't have the fuckin' time." She twisted Savage's arm with each phrase, and he strained even harder not to yell, the veins on his neck standing out like fingers. "Are we all clear?"

The wind sucked across the shed atop the watchtower and it moaned softly in the distance. Tank was up on his toes, arms tensed.

"We ousted Derek, but that does not mean there are no rules now," she continued. "As former AOIC, Szabla is acting senior officer and we will fall into line under her." They all nodded. Cameron looked down at Savage, as if just remembering him, and released his arm. She pulled him up to his feet. Rotating his arm painfully, he grimaced.

"Nice move," he said, not insincerely.