Minutes to Burn

by Gregg Hurwitz

  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.

  Chapter 53

  Samantha hadn't called to check in on her children in sixteen hours. Every time she picked up the phone, she got hit with something new-a chart, a micrograph, PCR results, Szabla calling in with news of the mutiny and the human infection on Sangre de Dios. Though Saman-tha had spoken to Donald on a few occasions, this was the first time she'd worked with him in person. He was an amusing, pleasant-looking man, his wrinkled linen shirt spotted with sweat. They'd quickly formed a partnership of sorts; he sat right beside the slammer window so that they could confer. Their opinion of how to rectify the situation on the island would be key-Cameron and the other troops now in control were in firm opposition to Diego and Derek, with Rex leaning heavily toward the dominant party.

  Samantha sighed. "Jesus, if something like this hit the mainland…"

  "How do we know it's isolated to Sangre de Dios?" Donald cleaned the lenses of his spectacles on his shirt.

  "We don't. But don't underestimate how difficult it is for a virus to spread. Viruses are fragile, subject to the harsh laws of natural selection like everything else. We only hear about the ones that make it- Machupo, Sin Nombre, Ebola. For every virus we've heard of, there are untold millions that die away, disappear."

  Donald raised a silver eyebrow, amused. "Viruses are people, too?"

  Samantha did not return his smile. "The Darwin virus is not going to be able to infect everything it comes in contact with. It's never shown up in water samples from any of the other islands in the archipelago, and only once in a sample from Sangre de Dios. But now we have a problem.

  We have a virus present in a stable life form without any natural preda-tors. It needs the host organisms to survive, and it will spread further when the hosts reproduce."

  "The animals are effectively quarantined on the island." Donald shook his head. "I just don't know that killing them off is the right choice."

  "The larvae appear to be amphibious, Donald. And the adults are winged. All we need is for one to get taken by a pregnant shark, or fly- unlikely as that seems-from one island to the next in search of food."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying, we can never account for when, where, and how a virus will come out of hiding and threaten us. But if there was an island so
me-where teeming with rats carrying the bubonic plague, what would you do? Wait and observe?"

  "If the rats were evolutionarily unique, maybe." He sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Are you suggesting we support Szabla and Cameron's decision?"

  "The accountable virus reservoir needs to be exterminated. We're extraordinarily fortunate here; the ootheca chambers indicate the exact number of disease carriers to be found and killed, at least for this line of descent." She sighed, leaning against the glass. "For all we know, the drill hole off Sangre de Dios only shed the virus for a limited time. Rex claims that the dinos now present on the island appear normal, at least under a standard lens."

  She looked at Donald, the sadness etching itself into the lines of his face. "The longer we sit on this thing, the greater chance it will spin out of control," she continued. "The spring months are coming on, and a whole new wave of reproductive activity from the island animals. Diatom bloom, red tides, increased seaborne pathogens as the ocean surface temp rises, El Nino breaking up the inversion layer and drawing rain down on the island. There'll be an explosion of life. With all the heat and reproductive activity, the virus could flourish. And if it gets into mosquitoes or maggots, forget it. Think about when eastern-equine-encephalitis-infected Asian tiger mosquitoes turned up in Florida." She grimaced. "You want to talk about a problematic intro-duced species."

  Donald lowered his shiny forehead into a hand. Samantha softened her voice."If this thing hits the mainland…it would spread like an STD. The results would be…" She shuddered, imagining a new generation of grotesquely altered babies. "The effects on humans could be horrid- and now we know it could be a reality."

  Donald mumbled something and raised his hands in exasperation.

  "We have this virus pinned down," Samantha said. "For this brief opportunity, on this island. Imagine if we ever had this for AIDS, how many lives would have been saved." Samantha's eyes seemed to glow with fearful intensity. "I don't want this virus crawling around that island."

  Colonel Douglas Strickland walked down the hallway toward the slammer, and the group around the desks to Donald's right quieted. He approached the glass, addressing Samantha only, as if the others did not exist. "We've had a breakdown in chain-of-command which, apparently, can't be rectified long distance."

  "We know," Samantha said. "We heard."

  "That's not even the biggest concern," he continued. "We can straighten that out back here. However, the latest developments regarding the Darwin virus…" He grimaced his stern grimace. "We're debating what degree of force the crisis necessitates."

  Samantha frowned. "Degree of force?" she repeated.

  "All the life on that island is potentially dangerous. We have to assume a worst-case scenario."

  "But the rest of the fauna appear to be normal," Donald broke in. "We're even questioning if the dinoflagellates are still infected."

  "But we don't know for sure."

  "We never know for sure," Samantha said. "That's why we should do this in a limited way to preserve the island life. Euthanize the animals we know are infected, and then run tests on the plants, animals, and water to make sure they're clean."

  Strickland laughed, a loud, hearty laugh. Samantha realized she had never even seen him smile before. His laughter had no element of spon-taneity. "Oh yes," he said, once his laughter died down. "I'll just commit another squad of men to this endeavor from our copious resources. Per-haps pull them from Quito where they're de facto running the nation."

  Strickland's smile dropped from his face. "I want those drill holes closed over and the island sterilized."

  Donald stood up. "That doesn't make any-"

  Strickland stared at him, pushing him back down into his seat with his eyes.

  Samantha rose, pressing her hands against the window. "What if we could guarantee that the virus reservoir was exterminated? Would you spare the island?"

  "Top brass are flying in tomorrow afternoon. We'll decide our plan of action then."

  "What about my request to get that crew off the island?" Donald asked.

  "If memory serves, Dr. Denton," Strickland said, "you were the one so anxious to get those men on the island." He turned on his heel. "We're having air asset complications, but we'll be able to get a helo to your men by 2200 on the thirty-first."

  "That may not be soon enough."

  "Well, Dr. Denton," Strickland said. "In light of the amount of shit in which we would appear to have landed, it'll have to be."

  Derek had temporarily deactivated his transmitter, so the page from Samantha defaulted to Cameron, as his buddy. She'd been gathering fire-wood at the forest's edge, alone. The others were around the base. Cameron could see from their posture they were all uncomfortably aware of Cameron and Derek's tent. She didn't blame them. The flap was zipped, and Derek hadn't made a sound since retiring; she'd been tempted to peek inside to make sure he was still there.

  When she clicked on, she heard Samantha's loud voice ring through the crackle. "Samantha here. Dr. Everett. Who's this?"

  "Cameron Kates."

  "You the one asking all the sensible questions earlier?"

  "Yes," Cameron said. "I suppose so." I've got higher stakes, she thought.

  "I have some tough news," Samantha said. Something in her voice was immensely comforting without being condescending. Cameron lis-tened carefully as Samantha filled her in on her conversations with Strickland and Donald.

  Cameron took a deep breath. "As you already know, we sort of reached that conclusion on our end as well."

  "Donald took it heavy," Samantha said. "It won't be easy with the sci-entists. And you're going to need their help. If need be, I can bottom-line them on the decisions of my ever-astute superiors."

  "I don't think that'll be necessary. I can handle it."

  "Page me if you need anything."

  "Thank you. But I won't."

  There was a long pause. And then, "Cameron?"

  "Yes?"

  "Good luck." Samantha clicked off, and Cameron took a moment to collect herself before returning to the others. They'd noticed her talking but had given her space. She walked back with an armful of branches, and the others watched her expectantly. The fire was almost out, a glowing heap of embers. She caught Diego's eye. "Samantha and Donald back our decision to take out the remaining larvae."

  Diego took the news calmly, with an air of mournfulness. "Why?" he asked.

  She dropped the wood. "Because they're pretty sure that if we can't exterminate the virus reservoir and provide damn good evidence that the water samples are virus-clear by 2200 on Monday, there's not gonna be an island left to argue over."

  Rex exhaled in a sharp sigh. Diego eased himself down onto a log.

  When Savage looked up, his eyes were flat and dark like water-smooth stones. "Sometimes you have to destroy a village to save it," he said.

  Chapter 54

  It felt odd to Cameron, reconning with Justin. But since Derek was obviously out of the picture for the time being, and Szabla and Savage were standing guard over his tent, it made the most sense for her and Justin to pair up. Tank and the scientists took the western rim of the transition zone, hooking north around the Scalesia zone.

  Cameron followed her husband through the dark forest, covering the terrain with slow sweeps of her elbow light. The Estradas' violent deaths and the mutiny had drained her, so she tried to keep her mind on the task at hand. It occurred to her just how odd it was that they were out here to dispose of gentle creatures that crawled in the night. Such a task seemed discordant at a time when her whole body was yearning for softness.

  When he'd realized that the entire island was at stake, Diego had yielded to their objectives, finally agreeing to help dispose of the larvae. His advice was simple-the larvae would be attracted to light and humans, and want to keep to the shade. The first larva they'd captured had never made an effort to flee, and it had all but sought Cameron out by the lagoon. It was part of the larvae's strategy to
locate other organ-isms to look over them, a strategy that had worked out nicely on an island with few predators.

  Diego and Rex had also urged that they all keep an eye out for any other irregularities in the flora or fauna.

  Cameron and Justin marched through the foliage, the branches arched like gothic gables, the trunks rising like spires to the vast spread of leaves floating overhead. They were enclosed, the two of them, in a world of vegetation, and it seemed that the canopy above was the floor of another world just out of reach. It was cavernous, the forest, a living stomach dripping with vines and life.

  Cameron had the sudden peculiar sensation that she was going to her wedding. Aside from the fact that she was alone with the man she loved and the night hovered ahead of them intimidating and yet unrealized, she did not know why.

  She passed the entrance of a cave, more like a deep niche carved into the side of a hill, and noticed movement just inside. She called Justin back and he came quietly. They stepped inside, the light casting shadows broad and fearful.

  The cave's wide entrance afforded a view of a cluster of avocado trees just outside-smooth trunks and wide, dark leaves. Rocks and boulders lined the interior. Cameron felt her stomach roiling as they stepped inside. Something flickered in the darkness, and she drew back her spike as Justin fell out to her right. She tried not to imagine what it would be like to batter one of the larvae. She pictured the smooth green head, the sentimental eyes, the soft prolegs that grasped and released, and she felt her mouth go dry.

  There was a flash of movement behind a rock. Justin reached the rock first and shoved it over with his boot. Cameron held the spike cocked back over her shoulder like a golf club. A rice rat scurried for the cave entrance.

  Cameron lowered the spike, relieved, her arm weak under its weight. She dropped her elbow light, and it dangled from its sling around her neck.