Part 32 (2/2)
”Move out!” Camera said.
The group turned and once again headed down the trail. Manny prayed the corporal succeeded. With a final glance behind him, Manny fol-lowed the others.
Jorgensen rushed through the swarm. With only his single torch protect-ing him, the swarm grew tighter.
He was stung a few times by bolder bugs, but he ignored the discomfort. A Ranger went through vigorous training programs across a mult.i.tude of terrains: mountains, jungles, swamps, snow, desert.
But never this . . . never a G.o.dd.a.m.n cloud of carnivorous bugs!
With his weapon on his shoulder, he shrugged his pack higher on his back, both to make it easier to run and to s.h.i.+eld him from the swarm overhead.
Though he should have been panicked, an odd surge of zeal fired his blood. This was why he had volunteered for the Rangers, to test his mettle and to experience b.a.l.l.s-out action. How many farm boys from the back-waters of Minnesota had a chance to do this?
He thrust his torch forward and forged ahead. ”f.u.c.k you!” he yelled at the locusts.
Focusing on the abandoned campfire as a beacon, Jorgensen worked across the dizzying landscape of whirling bugs. Smoke from his torch wafted around him, redolent with the burning powder. He circled around the Brazil nut tree and headed toward where the Ban-ali's burning signa-ture had been set in the forest.
Half blind, he ran past the site before realizing it and doubled back. He fell to his knees beside the spot.
”Thank G.o.d:”
Jorgensen planted his torch in the soft loam, then leaned over and swept free the dirt and scrabbling bugs from the buried resinous com-pound. Locusts lay thick over this site. Several bites stung his hand as hebrushed them away. Leaning close, the residual fumes from the oil filled his nostrils, bitter and sharp. The professor was right. It certainly attracted the b.u.g.g.e.rs.
Working quickly, Jorgensen continued to uncover the original marker.
He didn't know how much of the black oil should be lit to keep the swarm's attention here, but he wasn't taking any chances. He didn't want to have to return a second time. Crawling on his knees, his hands sticky with the black resin, he worked around the site. He soon had at least half of the serpentine pattern exposed.
Satisfied, he sat back, pulled free a butane lighter, and flicked a flame. He lowered the lighter to the oil.
”C'mon . . . burn, baby.”
His wish was granted. The oil caught fire, flames racing down the twists and curls of the exposed symbol. In fact, the ignition was so fiercely combustible that the first flames caught him off guard, burning his fingers.
Jorgensen dropped the lighter and pulled his hand away, his fingers on fire. ”s.h.i.+t!” The smattering of sticky oil on his hand had caught the flames. ”s.h.i.+t!”
He rolled to the side and shoved his hands into the loose dirt to stanch the fire. As he did so, his elbow accidentally struck the planted bamboo torch, knocking it into a nearby bush, casting embers in a fiery arc. Jor-gensen swore and s.n.a.t.c.hed at the torch-but he was too late. The powder stored in the hollow top of the bamboo had scattered into the dirt and bush, sizzling out. The top of the torch still glowed crimson, but it was no longer smoking.
Jorgensen sprang to his feet.
Behind him, the symbol of the Ban-ali flamed brightly, calling the swarm to its meal.
”Oh, G.o.d!”
Kelly heard the first scream, a horrible sound that froze everyone in place.
”Jorgensen . . :” Private Camera said, swinging around.
Kelly stepped beside the Ranger.
”We can't go back,” Zane said, s.h.i.+fting further down the trail.
A second scream, bone-chilling, garbled, echoed from the forest.
Kelly noticed the swarm of locusts whisk from around them, retreat-ing back toward the original campsite. ”They're leaving!”
Professor Kouwe spoke at her shoulder. ”The corporal must have suc-ceeded in relighting the symbol:”
By now, the agonized cries were constant, prolonged, b.e.s.t.i.a.l. No human could scream like that. ”We have to go help him,” Manny said.
Camera clicked on a flashlight in her free hand. She pointed it back toward the campsite. Fifty yards away, the condensed swarm was so thick, the trees themselves were invisible, swallowed by the black cloud. ”There's not enough time,” she said softly and lifted her own bamboo torch. It was already sputtering. ”We don't know how long a distraction Jorgensen has bought us:”
Manny turned to her. ”We could at least still try. He might be alive:”
As if hearing him, the distant cries died away.
Camera glanced to him and shook her head.
”Look!” Anna called out, pointing her arm.
Off to the left, a figure stumbled out of the swarm.
Camera pointed her flashlight. ”Jorgensen!”
Kelly gasped and covered her mouth.
The man was impossible to identify, covered from crown to ankle with crawling locusts. His arms were out, waving, blind. His legs wobbled, and he tripped in the underbrush, falling to his knees. All the while, he remained eerily silent. Only his arms stretched out for help.
Manny took a step in the man's direction, but Camera held him back.
The swarm rolled back over the kneeling man, swallowing him.
”It's too late,” Camera said. ”And we're all running out of time:” Punc-tuating her statement, her own torch cast a final sputter of fiery ash, then dimmed. ”We need to get as far from here as possible before we lose our advantage:”
”But-” Manny began.
He was cut off by a hard stare from the Ranger. Her words were even harder. ”I won't have Jorgensen's sacrifice be meaningless:” She pointed toward the deeper wood. ”Move out!”
Kelly glanced back as they headed away. The swarm remained behind them, a featureless black cloud.
But at its heart was a man who had given his life to save them all. Tears filled her eyes. Her legs were numb with exhaustion and despair, her heart heavy.
Despite the loss of the corporal, one thought, one face remained fore- most in Kelly's mind. Her daughter needed her. Her mind roiled with flashes of her child in bed, burning with fever. I'llget back to you, baby, she promised silently.
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