“What’s changed the water?” Petra asked. “Is it those lily plants?”
Anaya’s father nodded. “I noticed the same thing in the lab. They change the acidity of the water. They also seem to exhale methane. That’s the rotten-egg smell.” He looked at Dr. Weber. “Did you get hit with any seeds?”
“My leg.”
“We need to get them out fast.”
Anaya helped Dr. Weber pull up the leg of her acid-scorched trousers. In her calf were two red welts where seeds had burned themselves into her flesh. Only their sharp tips jutted out.
“Anaya, can you do it?” Dad asked. “My fingers are still a bit swollen. You might have to dig in a bit.”
“Sorry,” she said to Dr. Weber in advance, and gouged out one seed, then another, with her fingernails.
“Thanks, Anaya,” said Dr. Weber, wincing.
“They germinate really fast,” Dad said, and lowered his bandanna.
Anaya sucked in her breath. On his neck was a raised welt with a small black tendril curling out of it. Anaya felt a squeeze of horror. One of those plants was growing out of him.
“Oh my gosh, Dad…”
“I couldn’t get the seed out. Then it sprouted. I’ve torn it off a few times, but it just grows back.”
“Let me have a look,” said Dr. Weber, peering with her swollen eyes. She prodded gently around the wound with her fingers. “It’s very deep. It needs to be cut out.”
“Can you do it?” Anaya asked.
“It’s too close to the artery. A surgeon needs to do it.”
Anaya scratched at her own neck, feeling a sympathetic itchiness.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Dad said, tying the bandanna back over his mouth and nose. “Here, you’ll want to do the same,” he said, handing Dr. Weber a strip of ripped T-shirt, sluiced with water.
“The sleeping gas from the vines, I know,” the doctor said, tying it around her face.
“It was way worse in the forest,” Anaya said, sniffing the air.
“I think the breeze helps clear it away,” Dad said. “You guys aren’t affected?” he asked, looking at Anaya.
“No,” she said, and saw his puzzlement. But she wanted to put off telling him as long as possible.
“Okay,” he said. “I saw your helicopter. Who else was on it?”
“Two pilots,” she told him. “They died in the crash. And there were two military officers. The vines got Jolie, and…”
She didn’t need to say any more. Her father must have seen what happened to Brock.
“Can we expect a cavalry?” Dad asked Dr. Weber.
“The captain said they might send a rescue team before nightfall. Maybe.”
“Dad,” Anaya asked, “what happened to you? Is Amit—”
“Dead,” said Petra. “He was under the canoe.”
Anaya saw Dad nod and take a breath. “When we got here yesterday morning, that wall of black grass wasn’t nearly so high or thick. Only a few vines crisscrossed overhead. We took the canoe out. Halfway across we stopped to take a closer look at the lilies. I was pretty sure they were the same ones I had growing in the lab. They clustered around the boat and started shooting. I got hit a few times, but Amit got the worst of it. When he fell out, the canoe tipped and everything went in, except the backpack I was wearing. The water got in my eyes, and I could barely see. Amit went under before I could reach him.”
“So awful,” Anaya said, scratching again at her neck. She must’ve gotten a mosquito bite.
“I made it to the island,” Dad continued. “My skin was seared, and both my eyes were swollen shut. But after a few hours, my vision started to come back.”
He gestured across the lake to the stockade.
“By then the wall was even thicker, and more vines were weaving over the lake.”
“Incredible,” murmured Dr. Weber. “They really are hiding it.”
“They started coming for me then, and that’s when I found out they didn’t like the soil. I also figured out they were all growing from one place.”
He pointed across the lake to a marshy spot on the shoreline. A colossal tangle of vines, the width of a car, grew straight up, higher than the black grass, and into the trees behind it.
“It’s a monster pit plant over there,” Seth said. “I saw it open when the vines caught Brock. They were carrying him over to it. They were going to dump him right in.”
“Pit plant,” Anaya’s father said. “That’s a good name for them. Before we got to the lake, Amit and I almost fell into one.”
Anaya could see Dad studying Seth’s feathers. Worriedly she glanced down at her clawed toes sticking through her ripped socks, and tried to pull them back in, but they were too long now. When she lifted her eyes, her father’s gaze met hers.
He must know, she thought.
“Dad,” she said helplessly.
“It’s okay,” he said, and as he reached for her, she started to cry.
It was not okay. How could it ever be okay? She was not what she used to be—and never had been. From the moment of her birth, she’d been something different, and how could her father possibly accept her? But he held her tightly as her shoulders shook, and said nice things into her ear, some of the same things he’d said when she was little and sobbing like this.
Gently she pulled away and took a big breath. She felt bad for Petra and Seth, not having anyone to blubber all over. Seth was staring at his hands, scratching at a knuckle.
Dad looked at Dr. Weber and said, “What can you tell me?”
She said, “You already knew the plants were cryptogenic, yes?”
“Yes.”
Anaya gaped. “You did? And you didn’t tell me or Mom!”
“Mom knew. I didn’t want to terrify you.” To Dr. Weber, he said, “Keep going, please.”
Anaya was happy to let Dr. Weber tell it. About how only half of their DNA was human, about how they were changing. The doctor was calm and thorough, and made it sound scientific, and somehow less personal. When, really, what could be more personal than the fact that your daughter was half cryptogen and you weren’t even the father?
Anaya watched Dad most carefully during this last part, dreading how he’d react. Would something die in his eyes when he next looked at her? Would he be frightened of her? He listened to all of it, and then nodded and said, “Okay.” He scratched at his filthy hair and squinted up at the writhing mass of vines overhead. “This is a lot.” He tried to grin. “Quite a day.” He took her hands in his. “As far as I’m concerned, not one thing has changed. You’re my daughter. That will never stop.”
She smiled, grateful and so relieved, and tried hard not to start crying all over again. She scratched at her neck. The other side was itchy now, too. There must be tons of mosquitoes here.
“We have a lot to talk about,” Dad said. “But right now we need to get this soil off the island. It works!”
“It really kills the plants?” she asked.
“You’re sure?” said Dr. Weber.
“I’ll show you.” He led them away from his makeshift shelter.
Anaya glanced overhead to check on the vines, still coiling over one another like restless snakes. A few dropped down to nose around her head, then retreated hastily.
“I didn’t know how long I’d be here,” Dad said, “so I thought I better make the time count. When the vines were dropping down for me, I managed to snap a few of the tendrils and replant them.” He came to a stop and pointed. “Here.”
In admiration, Anaya looked at the small patch of cleared earth that her father had turned into a test plot. How many people, with their lives at risk, would have the discipline and courage to run a science experiment?
“I planted three tendrils. I even snared a young water lily that hadn’t developed its flower h
ead yet. I planted that, too.”
Anaya studied the wizened plants. They all sagged, their leaves limp and yellow against the earth.
“Whatever’s in this soil, it’s a potent toxin to the plants,” Dad said.
“Any theories what it is, exactly?” Dr. Weber asked.
“A bacterium. But we won’t know what until we isolate it in a lab.”
“Why here?” Seth asked. “Why’s this soil special?”
“You sometimes get these rare fungal ecosystems in isolated places. Like the South American rain forest. Totally unique bacteria. Same thing here. If we can isolate it, and culture it, we might have a way to kill these rotters on a mass scale.”
Rotters. Anaya couldn’t help grinning. She felt a strengthening pulse of excitement and hope. A way of killing all the plants. Possible.
“How long did it take?” Seth pointed at the withered plants in the plot. “For them to die.”
“Within an hour.”
Anaya scratched at her neck, and then noticed that Seth was scratching at his hand. She glanced over at Petra, who was rubbing her cheek. Beneath the dirt on her friend’s face, Anaya saw a red patch of skin.
“The soil,” she breathed.
Petra looked over at her. “What?”
“We’re allergic to it, too!”
“Let me see,” said Dr. Weber, peering at her neck, then at Petra and Seth. “I think you’re right. Is it very itchy?”
Seth shook his head. “Just like a mosquito bite.”
“Makes sense,” Anaya’s father said, “since you guys have some of the same DNA as the plants.”
Dr. Weber said, “The reaction looks fairly mild, but we need to keep an eye on it. If it spreads, or you have any shortness of breath, tell me.”
“Shouldn’t we wash the dirt off?” Petra said worriedly.
“No!” said Anaya. “Or the vines’ll take us!”
She’d put up with a little itchiness to keep those things off her.
Petra pointed at the wilted plants. “It killed them! How do we know it won’t kill us?”
Anaya felt a squeeze of fear around her throat. She’d gotten used to being the one who was immune to all these new dangers: the acid, the sleeping gas, the searing water. Now it turned out she was vulnerable to dirt from her own planet—just like the cryptogenic plants.
“Remember,” Dr. Weber said, “you only share a small amount of the plant’s DNA. Those vines can’t even touch the dirt. You guys have very mild reactions by comparison.”
“Still,” said Anaya’s father, “I don’t like it. The sooner they can clean off the better. We need to get out of here. We’ve only got a couple more hours of light.”
“We’re not getting that canoe back,” said Seth, looking at the boat snarled up in the vines.
Anaya exhaled. Without the boat, they were stranded.
“We could swim,” Petra reminded them.
“I don’t think Dr. Weber and I would make it,” said Anaya’s father. “Even if it weren’t for the lilies.”
“I could rip them out,” Petra said.
“Too many of them,” Seth said.
“Even if we did make it across,” Dr. Weber said, “then what?”
“There’s your boat at the dock,” Petra said to Anaya’s father.
“And a whole forest of vines and pit plants to get through,” Anaya said.
“Well, we can’t just wait around!” Petra said. “What if they don’t send a rescue team? Even if they sent another helicopter, they wouldn’t see us through the vines!”
She was right. Anaya stared up into the dense weave of vines. Already the small hole they’d burned was sealing itself up. Those things were unstoppable. She traced them back to the massive pit plant on the opposite shore.
“How much soil do you think it would take to kill that big pit plant?” she asked Dad, pointing to the shore.
“I don’t know. Why?”
She looked over at Petra, who was nodding with her. “That’s where all the vines come from. We kill the pit plant, then all the vines die, right? If the vines die, a helicopter can see us.”
“And the canoe falls down,” Seth added. “Even if there’s no rescue, at least we’ve got a boat. And no vines to capsize us.”
Frowning, Dr. Weber looked across to the pit plant on the shore. “How could we even get close to that thing?”
Anaya took a breath. Exhaled. “I let it eat me.”
* * *
SETH LOOKED AT her in shock, and then at Mr. Riggs, who was about to speak, but Anaya cut him off.
“I load myself up with as much soil as I can carry. I wash the dirt off myself, and let the vines grab me. They’ll feed me right into the pit plant.”
Despite himself, Seth agreed with her logic. The plant must be hungry; it hadn’t eaten Brock. Even with all its vines collecting light and eating small animals, that enormous pit plant would need a ton of food to keep itself going.
“Absolutely not,” Mr. Riggs said. “Way too risky. If anyone does it, it’s me.”
“Dad, it’ll kill you!” Anaya said. “The acid doesn’t hurt me. I go in, dump the soil, and get right out. I can jump really high now! Didn’t you see me?”
“What if it seals you inside?” Mr. Riggs asked.
“I cut my way out. I’ll take your knife. And I’ve got these.” She pointed to the claws jabbing through her socked feet.
“And she won’t be doing it alone,” Seth said. There was no way he was letting Anaya do this by herself. He held out his spiky arms. He’d just sawed through a wall of black grass; he was pretty sure he could slash his way out of a pit plant. “I’m going with her.”
Anaya turned to him, and Seth didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him with such gratitude.
“Me too,” said Petra.
“You guys—” Anaya began to say, but Petra cut her off.
“With three of us, that thing doesn’t stand a chance.”
Seth knew it was just tough talk, but they needed all the toughness they could muster right now. He looked over at Mr. Riggs. He didn’t say okay, but he didn’t say no, either. Seth figured he must know this might be their only way off the island.
There was no more debate. They dumped out Mr. Riggs’s backpack and filled every compartment to bursting with soil. Seth took off his hoodie and knotted it into a sack, and they loaded that up, too. For good measure, all three of them crammed their pockets with more soil.
“Listen to me,” Mr. Riggs said sternly. “If anything starts feeling wrong—anything—you cut loose, all right? Even if you don’t get to the pit plant, you bail. Understand?”
“Let’s wash,” said Petra. “I want to get this dirt off me.”
“Be careful,” Dr. Weber said, and Seth noticed her eyes rested longest on him. It was a tender look. Something he’d seen plenty of times in movies, but hardly at all in real life. He felt like he’d just been given an amazing gift.
Down at the shore, he splashed water on his head.
“Keep it dirty around your neck and nose,” Anaya said.
“It’s so itchy, though,” Petra complained.
“Yeah, but we don’t want them choking us—or going up our nostrils.”
“Good point,” Petra agreed.
Seth kept his arms dirty, too. He needed his arms and feathers completely free so he could slash and cut. He looked at Petra and Anaya, standing beside him on the shore, hair dripping, clothes sodden. They were not the picture of likely heroes. As Anaya shrugged the bulging backpack over both shoulders, he reached for his soil-packed hoodie. Petra got to it first.
“Keep your hands free,” she told him. “You’re the muscle.”
He felt himself blush and couldn’t help smiling. The muscle.
Mr. Riggs zipped his knife and
a chemical light stick into a small outer pocket of Anaya’s backpack and hugged his daughter tight.
“It’ll work,” Anaya said, but she was trembling, and Seth didn’t think it was just the cold water.
Mr. Riggs retreated. And suddenly the vines were whipping everywhere. Anaya got snared around her arms and ankles, and yanked into the air. They took Petra next, the soil-filled hoodie hugged tight to her chest, and then it was Seth’s turn. Spiraling around his ankles, the vines gripped so tight he grunted in pain. They flipped him upside down and whipped him skyward. His stomach slewed as he soared up, but for one ecstatic moment it was almost like he was flying. Below, the two grown-ups were already so small! He was lifted right underneath the squirming canopy.
Different vines came and took hold of his legs, others released, and he realized he was being passed along over the lake.
In front of him, the vines were doing the same to Petra and Anaya, deftly shunting them toward the shore. The ground trembled, and then split open in a vast gash. His insides went cold. He hadn’t fully appreciated how huge this thing was. From this height, he could see its wet walls, though its bottom was hidden in darkness.
“You okay?” he shouted out to the girls.
“Okay,” Petra grunted back.
A few stray vines oozed past his dirty feathered arms, but backed off. One brushed his cheek but darted away when it touched the soil around his nose. He wished they would flip him right side up, but apart from that, everything was going according to plan.
On the shoreline, the pit plant trembled and began to open. Its fleshy lips made a hissing sound as they pulled wide. The thing was so enormous.
Seth watched as the vines carried Anaya directly over the pit plant—and then dropped her. He cried out in shock. She couldn’t survive that fall! But ten feet above the pit plant, Anaya bounced back, tethered by a single remaining vine around her ankle, like a bungee cord. She bounced a few more times, and only when she stopped did the vine release her.
Anaya plunged into the pit plant and disappeared. Seth swallowed. It must be deep. He wasn’t looking forward to his turn. He calmed himself by going through the plan. Dump all the soil inside, and get out, cutting his way through the top if it sealed on them. They should be out of there in minutes.
Bloom Page 20
