Minutes to Burn

Cameron's stomach rose immediately at the thought of the virus running through the bodies around her, its presence thick in the air. An icy terror trickled through her when her mind turned to the child she was carrying, and to the ways the virus could alter and distort the fetus. She thought of the gnarled little creature that had split Floreana open when she birthed, and felt herself go weak with fear.

She raised her hands to her watering eyes and choked down another breath, feeling the rank odor fill her chest. She turned and vomited twice into the corner. Behind her, Tank looked as though he were fighting to keep his stomach where it should be.

She wiped her mouth and went to lock the door. The two empty braces, one on the door and one on the freezer wall, protruded in paral-lel curves. But there was no bolt.

A chill ran from the base of her skull down her spine when she remembered that Tank had removed the bolt to use as a weapon. Now it was lying somewhere in the forest. She glanced over at Tank and a look of resignation passed between them.

She grabbed a specimen hook from the corner and tried to get it through the braces, but since it was curved, it wouldn't fit through both of them. Setting the hook down quietly, she pressed her ear to the door; she heard nothing over the hum of the compressor and the wind out-side.

Without speaking, she turned Tank around and examined his cut as best she could in the bad lighting. It was deeper than she would have guessed from how well he'd been moving, but Tank was tough like that. She pressed down on the cut with her hand and he winced a bit, the mus-cles in his back tightening into a plate. Her hand came away drenched with blood. She'd have to do something to stop the bleeding.

She unbuttoned her shirt quickly and pulled it off. She wore an army-green tank top beneath, the kind Szabla used to wear. She held up the shirt, finding the seam. The sound of the material ripping filled the freezer.

It was when she pressed the strip of cloth to Tank's back that they first heard the scraping. Cameron froze, keeping her fingers on Tank even as the blood seeped through the fabric. The noise was agonizing- a delicate scraping against the outside of the freezer door, like finger-nails on a chalkboard. Cameron and Tank shivered at the sound, stepping back although there was nowhere to go.

If only they had the bolt.

The scraping started again-probably the mantid's climbing hook screeching down the aluminum. Cameron's whole body went damp. She was breathing as quietly as she could-short inhalations and exhalations that didn't even expand her chest all the way.

She glanced over at Tank, but his eyes were on the door, glued to the empty braces. He chewed his lip, a thick trickle of blood spilling over his stubbled chin. He watched the door, working his lip.

A deafening bang echoed through the freezer and Cameron couldn't help but gasp. She could see the beginnings of a dent in the thick door. They braced themselves for another bang, but there was nothing, only the compressor's labored hum.

Then the scraping started again, seeming to come from higher up. The freezer shifted a bit and then there was the sound of claws on the solar panels above, scrambling to take hold of the slick surface. Terror flooded through Cameron, but she blinked hard, pushing it away. The next strike set their ears ringing-small dimples appeared toward the top of both metal walls simultaneously as the mantid clawed around the freezer in a bear hug. Cameron noted with terror the span of the deadly front legs.

They heard a screech and then the freezer jumped, rocking in its foundation. It was all Cameron could do to keep her balance. In the cor-ner, one of the rotting corpses fell from its hook and went to pieces on the ground.

There was a scrambling sound, like a person running on ice, and then a dull thud as the mantid fell from the freezer roof onto the grass. "She can't grip," Cameron whispered.

The silence that followed seemed endless. Tank and Cameron tried to regulate their breathing, standing side by side among the bodies swaying crazily on the hooks. Cameron no longer noticed the smell, only the rank humidity against her face. She exhaled sharply through her nostrils, expelling the virus-laden air from her body.

The mantid's hook clicked against the metal. It slid down the freezer door, stopping when it encountered the handle. It grinded around the handle, and Tank lunged for the door just as it yanked open with tremen-dous force. He grabbed the empty brace on the door with both hands, yelling as the cut on his back split open like a burst seam.

Blood splattered across Cameron's face. She grabbed Tank around his waist and held onto him, pressing her cheek to his hot, sticky back.