Minutes to Burn

There was a slight scraping, like nails against bark, and they peered around nervously. Tank raised the freezer bolt behind his head, the knob dwarfed by his large fingers. Cameron and Justin moved slowly for cover behind a tree trunk, and Tank was left alone in the clearing. He took a hesitant first step back but stopped when the scraping came again. A cluster of ferns to his right split open, and a shadow charged out at him. As he stumbled back, swinging the bolt and missing, Cameron realized it was a feral dog, its spotted coat stretched tightly across its ribs. She felt the breeze from the dog's movement as it flashed off into the foliage. In an instant, even the sound of its running had vanished.

Tank swayed a bit on his feet, still clutching the bolt. Justin started laughing with relief, but no one joined him. He stopped.

They arrived back at base camp, defeated and exhausted, praying that Szabla and Savage had had more success. They ducked into Tank's tent to get out of the glaring sun, and Tank collapsed on his back on the ground. Cameron could tell he was really hurting, though she was prob-ably the last person in the world he'd admit that to. "You sure you're all right?" she asked.

"Fine."

"Well, you know what usually makes me feel better after a long day of unsuccessful larva hunting?" Justin asked, glancing over to see if he'd made Cameron smile. "A good hot shower and a back massage. But since I can't have either of those, I think I'll go take a dump."

Even Tank laughed a little as Justin disappeared through the flap.

"Good kid," Tank said. He shook his head, leaving sweat stains on his pad. He ran his fingers across his tender forehead, drawing away peels of skin. He looked at Cameron sheepishly. "Forgot sunblock," he said.

Cameron cringed. She unscrewed the cap from her canteen and took a healthy gulp of water. She'd need to get to the ocean soon to rinse off the grime. It clung to her like another layer of clothing.

Above the barrel of Tank's chest, the strong curve of his chin was bristled with whiskers. Cameron had always liked being in Tank's large, serene presence-maybe it was the constant current of unspoken affection he sent her way. She felt the need to say something to him, some-thing personal, but she didn't know what, so she was quiet.

Justin's voice from outside broke the silence. "Hey you guys! Check this out. Quick!"

They scrambled out of the tent and found Justin furiously buttoning up his pants. He started for the forest, gesturing them to follow. They passed through some recently cleared pasture, and soon the Scalesias were all around them. About fifteen yards in, he slowed, bending aside a leafy bush so that Cameron and Tank could see.

A larva, smaller than the others, with a light, almost yellow-green cuti-cle, had slid itself up a tree trunk, its prolegs grasping the moist bark. It worked its head back and forth, expelling a white sticky substance that looked like silk onto the trunk. It attached itself to the silk bedding and bent its head down to its bottom segment. It was weaving a cocoon around itself.

Cameron stepped forward, moving around Justin. "Incredible," she murmured.

They watched its graceful, repetitive movements with fascination. It had ensconced its lower half in silk when they heard approaching foot-steps behind them. Cameron turned as Szabla appeared in the foliage, Savage trailing her by a few steps.

"I was wondering where you-" Szabla froze, staring at the larva. Without hesitation, she crossed to it and kicked it from the tree, sending a scattering of moisture through the air. It squirmed on the ground awk-wardly, its lower body still encased in silk. Savage stepped forward and raised a foot to the tree trunk, resting an arm across his knee.

Reaching over without even looking, Szabla grabbed Savage's knife from his ankle sheath. She reached the larva in four strides and drove the blade into the top of its head. A gurgling noise issued from its gills. It flipped and twisted, arching like a Halloween cat, its true legs splayed out in front of it like wooden pegs. Green hemolymph bubbled from the slit. It shuddered twice through its entire body, contracted slowly into a ball, and stilled.

Szabla glared at Tank, Justin, and Cameron, running the knife across her thigh and back again. Cameron almost retched at the smudge it left on her cammies, full of virus. She felt Savage's eyes on her, reading her. "That's my tough little soldier," he said, his voice amused and disdainful all at once.

Szabla tossed the knife back to Savage, who caught it expertly by the handle. She picked up the larva, careful to keep her hands clear of the hemolymph. "What's wrong, Cam?" she snarled. "Forgot Floreana's lit-tle Sigourney Weaver trick already?"

She headed back in the direction of camp, knocking Cameron's shoulder hard as she passed her.

Chapter 57