Part 24 (1/2)

”They're out there,” Nate said. ”They're just not in a frenzy any longer.”

”Or maybe now that the fires have died down, they fled back to the main river channel;” Jorgensen offered hopefully.

Waxman frowned. ”I don't think we should count-”

A sharp cry interrupted the captain. Off to the left, a body slid down the slick, muddy slope. It was a Ranger. Eddie Jones. His limbs flailed as he tried to break his fall. ”f.u.c.k!” he screamed in frustration. He tried to grasp a bush, but its roots ripped out of the thin soil. Then he hit a b.u.mp in the slope, and wentcartwheeling, his weapon flying from his fingers, and landed in the stream.

A pair of Rangers-Warczak and Graves-ran to his aid.

He popped out, coughing water and choking. ”G.o.dd.a.m.n it!” He clam-bered to the stream's edge. ”f.u.c.k this jungle!” As he straightened his hel-met, more colorful obscenities flowed. He climbed out of the stream.

”Smooth, Jones . . . very smooth,” Warczak said, running his flashlight up and down the man's soaked form. ”I'd give you a perfect ten in the jun-gle slalom:”

”Cram it up your a.s.s,” Jones said, bending to finger a rope of sticky algae from his pant leg. ”Ugh:”

Corporal Graves was the first to spot it: something moving atop the other man's pack. ”Jones. . .”

Still half crouched, the man glanced up. ”What?”

The creature leaped, latching onto the soft flesh under Jones's jaw. He jerked. ”What the h.e.l.l!” He tore the creature from his neck, blood spurting. ”Ahhhhh . . .”

The small stream suddenly frothed and burst forth with another dozen of the creatures. They leaped at the man, attacking his legs. Jones fell backward, his face twisted in agony. He hit the stream with a loud splash.

”Jones!” Warczak stepped nearer.

Another of the creatures leaped from the water and plopped in the wet mud at the corporal's feet, gill flaps vibrating. Warczak scrambled back-ward, as did Graves.

In the shallow stream, Jones writhed. It was as if he had been thrown in boiling water. His body jerked and spasmed.

”Get back!” Waxman yelled. ”Everyone uphill!”

Warczak and Graves were already running. From the stream, more of the creatures leaped and bounded in pursuit.

The group tossed caution aside and scrambled up the slope, some half crawling on hands and knees.

Kelly's legs suddenly went out from under her. Her muddy hand slipped out of her brother's grip. She began a deadly slide.

”Kelly!” Frank called out.

But Nate was a couple yards behind her. He caught her one-handed by the waist, falling on top of her, holding his shotgun in his other arm. Manny came to their aid, hauling both back to their feet. Tor-tor paced anxiously back and forth behind him.

The Brazilian waved the jaguar ahead. ”Move your furry a.s.s:”

By now, the three were the last of the group. Frank waited a few yards up. Only Private Camera was still with them. She stood and sprayed a jet of fire behind them, her flamethrower roaring dully. ”Let's pick up the pace;” she said tensely, backing up the slope, herding them upward.

”Thanks,” Kelly said, her eyes swiveling to encompa.s.s the entire group.

Frank met them and took his sister in hand. ”Don't do that again:”

”I'm not planning on it:”

Nate kept a watch behind them. He met Camera's gaze. He saw the fear in her eyes. This momentary distraction was all it took. One of the crea-tures sprang at the Ranger from the surrounding underbrush. It had slipped past her firewall.

Camera fell backward, fire spitting into the sky.

The creature had latched onto her belt, but squirmed for a meatier purchase.

Before anyone else could react, a sharp crack split the night. The crea-ture was flung away, the two halves of its body sailing high. Both Camera and Nate turned to see Manny snapping his short bullwhip back into ready position.

”Are you just gonna sit there gawking?” Manny asked.

Camera scrambled up with Nate's help. The group sped up the hill. At last they reached the summit.

Nate hoped putting the rise between them and the amphibious creatures would be enough.

He found the others gathered on top.

”We should keep moving,” Nate said. ”Keep as much land between us and them as possible:”

”That's a good theory,” Kouwe said. ”But putting it into practice is another thing altogether:” The shaman pointed down the knoll's far side.

Nathan stared. From this height, the stream below shone silver in the moonlight. Groaning, he realized it was the same stream they had been avoiding all along. Nate turned in a slow circle, recognizing their predica-ment. They had made a fatal error.

The small waterway they had crossed a few minutes ago was not a feeder draining into the larger stream, but actually apart of the same stream.

”We're on an island,” Kelly said with dismay.

Nate stared upstream and saw that the flowof the waterway split and ran around both sidesof the knoll.

Once past the hill, it joined to become a single stream again. The party indeed stood on an island, in the middleof the deadly stream, water all around.

Nate felt sick. ”We're trapped.”

2:12 A.M. WEST WING OF THE INSTAR INSt.i.tUTE LANGLEY VIRGINIA.

Lauren O'Brien sat at the small table in the communal galley, hunched over a cupof coffee. At this late hour, she had the place to herself. All the other quarantined MEDEA members were either asleep in their makes.h.i.+ft bedrooms or working in the main labs.

Even Marshall had retired to their room with Jessie hours ago. He had an early morning conference call with the CDC, two Cabinet heads, and the directorof the CIA. He had eloquently described the meeting as ”a pre-emptive strike before the political s.h.i.+tstorm hits the fan:” Such were the waysof government.