This Green Hell

TWENTY-SIX

‘We need to cut her,’ Sam said.

He hadn’t needed to check on Alex — the HAWC leader was up and sprinting into the jungle after the priest the moment he realised he’d disappeared. Sam’s priority was Franks and her crushed windpipe. Her tongue protruded like a fat slug between lips coloured a deep crimson-blue. Sam could tell she was suffocating.

The drill workers crowded around, Maria and Michael Vargis hovering behind them. Aimee, after taking one look at the female HAWC’s condition, had rushed back to her cabin. She returned now with a length of rubber pipe, tape, a scalpel and a small brown bottle. She kneeled down beside Sam, who had drawn a shortened Ka-Bar blade and was feeling Franks’s neck for a position just below her larynx.

Aimee gently grabbed his knife hand. ‘You’ve done this before?’

‘A few times — not exactly a perk of the job, or one I enjoy. And my work wouldn’t be as tidy as yours.’ He sat back, happy to let her take over.

Aimee splashed the contents of the bottle onto Casey’s neck and Sam’s eyes stung from the smell of the surgical cleanser. She expertly sliced into the flesh, and was immediately rewarded with the wet sound of air being sucked into the wound. Franks’s chest inflated and she started to struggle beneath them.

‘Hold her down,’ Aimee said.

Sam held the HAWC’s shoulders as she writhed on the ground; the return of consciousness was rapidly bringing pain and memory with it. Aimee pushed the tip of the tube into the wound and cut the end off with the scalpel, leaving just an inch protruding. She covered the tube and wound with tape.

The crowd parted to let Alex through. He kneeled next to them and looked at the wound and the rise and fall of the HAWC’s chest, his face blank of emotion.

Casey Franks opened her eyes. Her lips moved but no sound came out; a small red bubble popped on her lower lip.

Alex reached down and squeezed her shoulder. ‘Don’t speak … he’s gone now. But don’t worry, we’ll find him and finish him — that I promise. You just concentrate on getting better; we need you.’

Alex took Sam by the arm and led him out of the group. ‘That wasn’t a man, Sam. It looked like a man, but it wasn’t. It was too strong, too fast, and I couldn’t hurt it.’ He shook his head as though in disbelief. ‘Did you see what it did to Mak?’

Sam looked around, then back to Alex, his eyes wide. There was no sign of Mak’s body.

Alex was shaking with rage and disbelief. His soldier’s body had been stolen — and while they were all just a few dozen feet away. There was a short slide mark into the foliage, then nothing. It was as if the body had been consumed by the jungle itself. It had taken all Sam’s and Aimee’s combined influence to prevent Alex from charging after it — even though he had no idea where to look.

Now, he tried to calm himself as he focused on the jungle, trying to sense some trace of Mak’s body and the creature that called itself González. But there was nothing; the priest was either too far away, or gone for good. Alex didn’t believe the latter. He hadn’t hurt the man at all, and, if not for Sam, he might have ended up as dead as Mak.

Alex rubbed his forehead hard. He had underestimated the exchange — an amateurish and near suicidal mistake for any soldier to make, let alone a HAWC leader. As soon as he’d touched the priest’s flesh he had sensed something strange. A human physical presence … and then something no longer human. And the thing hiding in his mouth — a parasite?

Alex felt Sam and Garmadia watching him as he paced. He could hear them talking. Sam held Mak’s gauntlet in his hands; other than some bloodstains, it was all that remained of the soldier. Alex swore at the green wall of the jungle.

A light rain started to fall and he looked up into it, letting it cool his face and calm his anger. He knew that in this region it could rain for days on end — any tracks would be obliterated. It was still hours before sunrise. They’d need some rest.

‘Lieutenant Reid, Captain Garmadia.’

Sam strode over, Garmadia following behind. Alex saw Garmadia looking at the line of puncture wounds in his leg; perhaps he was noticing that they hadn’t bled.

He held out his hand for the gauntlet and studied it for a few seconds before looking up at the two men. ‘Get some sleep.’ He saw Sam about to argue and cut him off. ‘That’s an order. I’ll take the rest of the watch. At 0600 we’re going to find Mak’s body and bring him back.’ He pulled the gauntlet onto his free arm and said softly, ‘Along with the priest’s head.’

Michael was hot and thirsty, and had a headache that felt like a small ball of fire in the centre of his brain. He had been looking through the microscope for an hour and his vision was starting to blur. He sat back to rub his temples. ‘My God, my head is killing me. I’ve just about had enough of this place. When do we get to go home?’

Maria was filling two syringes with a clear fluid. She looked up at her son briefly before bending back to her task. ‘What’s that, darling? Home? We could all do with getting out of here. Don’t worry — everything will be fine soon.’

She set down the second syringe very carefully.

‘How is she?’ Alex asked Aimee.

Franks’s unconscious figure lay on the low bunk in Aimee’s cabin. In the opposite corner of the room, Chaco and Saqueo sat huddled together, long ago having given up the struggle to sleep. Both boys watched Alex — Saqueo with curiosity, Chaco with distrust.

‘She’s fine,’ Aimee said. ‘If I hadn’t sedated her, she’d be up and trying to resume duties. I put a temporary balloon stent into her windpipe to re-dilate it, and I’ve removed the tube and stitched the wound. It’ll hurt like hell for a few days, and she won’t be able to manage solid foods, but at least she can breathe easily now. She was very lucky.’

Alex kneeled down beside the sleeping HAWC and tilted her head. Her entire neck was bathed in dark iodine, even though the wound itself was tiny. But Alex wasn’t interested in the field tracheotomy — he’d seen plenty before; instead, he examined the large bruises all around her throat. He remembered the immense strength of the man, or thing, that he’d fought. Not a man, he’d told Sam. But what then? he wondered.

Aimee kneeled down beside him and placed her hand on his arm. ‘I saw him, Alex — González — he looked like he was trying to bite you. I think he’s gone insane. I’m scared for all the men he’s taken. There’s a rare condition called porphyria that can affect sufferers in different ways. In acute cases, the symptoms are sensitivity to sunlight, muscle- and bone-lengthening, especially around the skull and teeth, and, in the extreme cases, psychopathic behaviour. There are medical records linking the condition to the original legends of werewolves and vampires. You know, we’ve never seen González during the day.’

‘Porphyria … vampires?’ Alex continued to stare at the marks on his HAWC’s neck. He knew that madness, and some drugs, could give a person almost superhuman strength, but he had felt something else lurking within the man. The tiny grey tendril that had extruded from the strange mouth to … what? Taste his flesh? He shuddered and looked at the cracked ceramic plating on his right glove. The priest should have been dead after his first strike. Not a man, he thought again.

‘We’re going out tomorrow to find the priest and bring all your men back,’ he told Aimee. ‘I’ll need you to—’

‘Good. I’m coming with you.’ Aimee stood up and folded her arms.

Oh, great, he thought. ‘Okay, but get some rest. Sam and I are leaving at about 0700 hours. I’ll call in for you then.’

Aimee’s eyes went diamond hard. ‘Like crap you will. You’ll leave earlier than that and leave me behind. I know you Alex. I’m coming and that’s that. You’ll have to tie me up to make me stay here.’ She paused, perhaps thinking she shouldn’t have mentioned that idea. ‘Look, I can show you where we found the Green Berets’ bodies,’ she went on. ‘And besides, you know I’ll just follow you anyway.’

Alex thought for a few seconds; he believed her — she would follow them. He stood and tilted his head back with resignation. ‘0600, be ready.’

Aimee stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. ‘See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it, Captain Hunter?’

Alex smiled. ‘You win this time, Miss Pushy, but I reserve the right to take you up on that offer to tie you up if you get us into trouble.’

Aimee smiled and her blue eyes seemed to darken. ‘Get me home first.’

Alex needed to call Hammerson; the satellite would be in a transmission intersect now and he had to meet its sweep window. There would be no rest for him after that; he’d stand watch until it was time to depart. His body was on fire with energy, and sleep would not come, or be needed, for days.

He scanned the surrounding wall of dense vegetation and tried to feel for the presence of González. There was nothing. The jungle was loud with the sounds of the night — which was good. It was when the creatures shut down that he needed to worry.

He had one last stop to make before the contact with Hammerson. At the door of the Vargises’ laboratory cabin, he took a disposable face mask off a hook and pulled it over his face. He paused for one last look around the smoke-filled clearing. The rain was still falling, and he was glad for the frond mat that Tomás and the men had laid down.

He knocked and pushed open the door. The two scientists were still in their bio-hazard gear. Maria greeted him, but returned immediately to the microscope. She looked tired and her normally perfect hair was in slight disarray.

Michael sat back in his chair and gave Alex a weak smile. He looked pale, Alex thought; too pale.

‘Progress?’ He didn’t have time for pleasantries; events were moving too fast for politeness or politics.

There was silence for a few moments, then Maria pushed her chair back and ran her hands over her hair. ‘The bacteria is immune to significant heat, and moves far too rapidly for a natural immunological response. We’re not even close to a vaccine. We need a full-sized lab and about a month.’

‘Is there anything we can use?’ Alex asked.

Maria shrugged. ‘There are no more infections, so we figure it’s spread by insect vectors — the smoke and DDT did their job. And the men in the isolation cabin are all dead and … gone.’ She went back to looking through her microscope.

Alex felt a small ball of annoyance in his gut. He inhaled slowly, calming himself.

‘I think cold slows it down,’ Michael said. ‘Maybe at low enough temperatures, it could even kill it.’ His voice sounded phlegmy.

‘That’s something — how can we use it?’

Maria looked up. ‘We can’t. The temperatures needed to terminate the bacteria would also explode human cell walls. You’d die about the same time as the Hades Bug did.’

Michael coughed and Maria looked across at him, as if really noticing him for the first time. ‘Michael?’

Alex stared hard at the man, using his enhanced senses to pick up the poison in his system. ‘He’s sick … infected.’

‘What? No!’ Maria jumped to her feet so fast her chair toppled over backwards. She moved quickly to Michael and tore off her glove, intending to place her hand on his forehead.

Alex grabbed her wrist. Close up, he could see the dark veins in the young man’s eyes.

Michael held up his hands to ward Maria off. ‘Forget it; I’ll be dead in a day.’ He dropped his head into his hands for a moment, then sat up, sniffing back tears. ‘I knew it wasn’t just fatigue, but I hoped …’ He looked miserably at his mother. ‘I don’t want to end up like the men in the cabin. Can you give me something … so I just go to sleep?’

Maria turned to Alex. ‘How are the generators holding up?’

Alex realised what she was thinking. ‘Sedate him,’ he said.

‘No, please,’ Michael said. ‘There’s no cure — just kill me.’ He went to get to his feet, but Alex put one hand on his shoulder.

Maria had filled a syringe from a small amber bottle; now she plunged it into Michael’s arm. In a few seconds, he was slumped back in his chair. Alex wrapped him in a sheet from one of the cots, lifted him like he weighed nothing, and took him to what had once been the camp’s mess cabin. Nestled between a coffee machine and a soda machine was an ice chest. Alex used one hand to lift the lid and shoved the unconscious scientist in among the ice. As Michael’s body settled, Alex sensed the deadly bacteria coursing through the young man’s system; he doubted he’d make it.

Maria stood staring down at her son for many minutes. Alex could hear her saying something under her breath; Greek, he assumed. Finally, she turned to him with a look of weariness on her face. ‘Twenty-four hours and there’ll be a solution. I guarantee it.’

As the rain continued, puddles formed beneath the mat of fronds covering the campsite. The dried black stains moistened, then thickened. After another hour of the soaking rain, the black shapes were able to slide across the wet ground to find each other.

The viscous puddles became pools. Living pools.

A hungry mewling swelled the air, inaudible to human ears.

A tall cassocked figure lurked just beyond the foliage surrounding the camp, its head moving in time to the ultrasonic chorus.