Gregg Hurwitz - Minutes to Burn

The ground rumbled suddenly, fiercely, and the tree rocked overhead. For a moment, Derek was worried that the tree would slide from the stump and crush them, but it held strong. He laid a hand protectively over the larva as the earth shook around them, then stilled. Aside from its abdominal segments bunching slightly, the larva did not move.

Lying on his back, Derek looked at the brief wisps of sky he could make out through the network of branches around him, the rain-heavy air, and the dark columns of the trees.

The forest suddenly seemed quite peaceful.

Dexterously, Savage moved ahead of Szabla in the rain. From time to time, she could make out the flash of his skin between the tree trunks. He rarely wore a shirt in the forest, but for some reason, the mosquitoes left him alone.

He called out to the larvae, "Hey little guys, you want some candy?" and then he'd laugh his forty-grit laugh.

All of a sudden, he was gone. Szabla scanned the area in front of her but could make nothing out in the dim light. She called his name once, her voice trembling ever so slightly, then reached across and fondled the ball of her biceps and felt her courage steel.

She stepped off the small trail they had been moving along and was immediately swallowed by the foliage. She circled around the area she had last seen Savage, holding the spike up above her head so that it wouldn't rustle through the branches.

"Quiet," she heard him grumble before he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into the foliage, slapping a hand across her mouth. They sank to the forest floor until they were lying side by side, hidden beneath ferns. Savage eyed her for a moment, then removed his hand. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the right. "Something there," he whispered.

He kept his hand near Szabla's mouth, ready to cover it again if she spoke. She was silent, though, and they lay staring into the darkness. After a few minutes, a branch nearby exploded with motion. Szabla tensed until she realized it was only a bird; the large-billed flycatcher shot through the canopy, its sulfur-yellow belly the single spot of color in the gray air.

Szabla let out her breath in a rush and looked at Savage. The mud he had smeared across his cheeks and chest for camouflage had hardened, cracking like a pie crust. It was darker around his mouth; he looked like a predator after feasting on a kill.

He kept the grin on his face, a white floating crescent that reminded her of the Cheshire cat's, and she suddenly became aware of how close they were. One of her arms was pinned beneath his shoulder, her hand resting in the dirty tangle of his hair. He smelled of sweat and mud, and his body pressed against hers was the hardest she had ever felt, though he was over fifty years old. His muscles weren't inordinately large, but they were tight, hard like stones.

She turned her head slightly to face him full on, her cheek brushing against his beard. She held his eyes for a moment, her heart still pounding from the scare. Staring into his eyes was like looking into a black hole; they were bottomless, empty, tinged with gray. Szabla felt she was peering through the surface ice of a frozen lake, peering into death itself.

Her unease was clear as they separated and stood.

Savage cleared his throat, bringing up a plug of phlegm he spit out on a jet of air. It splatted against a frond and dripped to the ground. He stared at her, seeming to read her mind.

"You go places sometimes," he said, his voice soft, gravelly, and, if she wasn't mistaken, gentle, "you can't get back from." He looked up at the living ceiling above them. "I went into the jungle when I was eight-een, and I stepped out of life. I don't…I don't have a choice anymore."

Leaning back against the slimy bark of the tree, he watched a cluster of insects flutter around a branch overhead. Szabla looked everywhere but his eyes, then started back along the trail.

After a moment, he followed.

It was one of the longest days Cameron could recall.

Since the larvae needed shade of some sort, she, Tank, and Justin skipped the sparse coastal zone. They swept the rim of the arid zone near the lagoon where Cameron had located the first larva, before heading north and making their way through the transition zone above the volcanic rift. Finally, they cut into the forest proper, cresting Cerro Verde around noon, steering clear of the caldera itself by circumventing it from the safety of the surrounding trees. At one point, a vantage opened, and Cameron caught a clear glimpse of the active caldera through the tree trunks-a long, flat plain of lava set off with the occa-sional jumble of rocks and dipping out of sight in the middle. Myriad fissures split the dark rock, through which the glow of hot magma emanated. Steam rose in wisps, curling into elongated apparitions before dissipating.

They paused reverently before continuing down the steep eastern side of the Scalesia zone. They combed the terrain in huge swaths, beating the underbrush and waiting for the small creatures to crawl forth so they could beat them to death.

Tank carried the bolt from the specimen freezer, and Cameron and Justin each held a spike. If they didn't start picking the larvae off soon, their situation would get worse. They still had thirty-four hours to extraction, and thirty-four hours could be a long time stuck on a tiny island with master predators on the loose.

They walked on in silence, taking in the trees and the short, darting movements of birds. Cameron's arms were whipped and raw from plant stalks and twigs. Her left shoulder had a large abrasion she might have gotten scraping against the rough bark of a tree, but she couldn't remember for sure. In fact, she couldn't recall the source of most of the aches and pains that shot through her body with each step.

At one point, she could have sworn she sensed Derek close to them in the forest, but when she listened, she heard nothing except the whisper of leaves against one another. She tried reaching him on his transmitter a few times, but it was still deactivated.

They circled up to take a rest, snacking from their MREs. No one stood guard. Cameron rested in a crouch, eating vegetarian tortellini out of the pouch. The rain had stopped, though the air was still gray and heavy. After ten minutes of sitting, Tank was still breathing heavily. Justin said something softly to him that Cameron could not quite make out, but she guessed he asked about Tank's injuries, because Tank shook his head and stood up quickly, pretending not to wince.

They started to leave, but Cameron stopped herself, went back to their rest spot, and cleaned up the plastic wrappers from the MREs, shoving them into her bag.

For four more hours, they painstakingly canvassed the forest, peering into bushes and caves, through the gnarled hollows of trees, and within clusters of boulders. At one point, Tank stopped, snapping his fingers sharply, and they all froze.

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.