Minutes to Burn (2001) (21 page)

The soldiers leapt overboard when they felt the lava skim the bottom of the Zodiac, pulling the small boat forward with splashing steps to keep momentum from sea to land. The water was different from the nighttime air only in consistency; the temperature seemed identical. The surface of the pahoehoe was rippled and intestinal; it had been formed during flows when fresh lava oozed forth in tongues from beneath the quick-hardening crust. Mats of Sesuvium herbs, dense patches of ever-green mangrove, and low tangles of saltbush with fat green leaves had somehow pioneered the barren lava.

The rest of the squad met them, hoisting the Zodiac to keep the scraping to a minimum. With their woodland cammies and jungle boots, the soldiers were blurs in the night. They jogged the boat back toward the cliffs, setting it down where Rex and Juan waited. Aside from the birds stirring in the cliffs and the hiss of the surf, the island was surpris
ingly
quiet. A few Opuntia cactus trees broke the skyline at the edge of the cliffs.

Cameron gazed up at the stars, more than she'd ever seen in the night sky.

"Not a creature was stirring," Justin murmured.

Tucker and Szabla unloaded the comms boxes and kit bags from the Zodiac as Cameron deflated it. They dragged them a few feet and stacked them side by side by the gear from the previous trip. Rex watched them carefully when they got to the GPS equipment. Szabla pretended to drop the box filled with tripods, and Rex nearly fell over trying to catch it.

Tank grabbed the two heavy cruise boxes that housed the general purpose tents and tugged them along the lava, the muscles standing out on his thick arms.

"All right," Derek said. "Someone grab the weapons box off the Zodiac. We're gonna camp--"

A howling split the air above their heads. Savage ripped his knife from the sheath as they instinctually backed into formation. The howling died into a moan and then faded away. Savage slowly lowered his knife.

Justin and Tucker scanned the area, still trying to adjust to the dark-ness. Rex and Juan found Tank immediately, crowding him from each side. The wind kicked up again, blowing the blunt edge of Cameron's hair across her cheek, and she pulled it back and hooked it around an ear. The howl resumed. She backed down toward the water, gazing up at the cliffs.

"Cam," Derek hissed. "Get back here."

"It's the wind," she said, smiling. She pointed to a gaping black hole in the side of the dappled cliff walls. "A cave. The wind's sucking across the entrance." She was surprised at how quickly the wind had kicked up; a few moments prior, the air had been almost deathly still.

"The salt and wind have worked hollows into the cliffs all along here," Diego said, wiping his brow with a nylon sleeve. "And there are irregu-larities in the basalt where land fell away from the fissures." He smirked. "Nothing to be frightened of."

A blast of wind hit them so hard that Justin staggered a little under its force. Rex put one hand on his Panama hat to keep it from blowing off. The howl reached a scream.

"What the fuck!" Justin said, as Savage slid his knife back into its sheath. "That's a little embarrassing." The others joined his laughter.

Derek cleared his throat. "I think we can safely say--"

The ground rocked violently beneath their feet, a grinding noise filling the air. Szabla was knocked over, thrown against the base of the cliff.

"!Mierda!" Diego yelled, his voice almost drowned out by the rum-bling. "We've got a shaker. Head down to the water."

The sound of cracking rock filled the air above them, and a shower of dirt slid from the cliff, falling over their heads. Juan ducked the debris, banging into Szabla.

"Move away from the cliff!" Rex yelled. "It could slide."

A rock about the size of a skull struck Justin from behind, but fortu-nately, his backpack took the brunt of the blow. He went to a knee under the force of the rock but was quickly up and running again, hustling Rex and Diego along before him.

Szabla went down, almost taking Juan with her. She struggled to find her feet, and Juan stepped toward her, arms spread wide to keep his bal-ance on the rocking earth. He tried to pull her up but was having trouble maintaining his own footing.

Cameron grabbed Derek's arm and yanked him down toward the water, his shoulder popping with the force of her pull. He stumbled after her until the water was up around his thighs, fighting to keep his balance in the suddenly thrashing waves. Tucker, Justin, Rex, Diego, and Savage were already in the water, and Tank was running toward them on the slippery rock.

"Where's Szabla?!" Derek yelled. He looked around frantically. "Fuck, where's Juan? Where's Juan?"

Cameron saw them at the base of the cliff, trying to stand under the shower of rocks and silt. Juan slipped and landed on his back. He rolled to his hands and knees and Szabla hoisted him up under one arm.

Cameron backhanded Derek's chest. "There!" she yelled, pointing.

Derek turned to the others. "Stay here!" he yelled. "That's an order." He ran toward Szabla and Juan, smacking Tank on the shoulder as he passed him. "Tank, come!" Without hesitation, Tank turned and fol-lowed him.

Juan was finally on his feet, but the ground was loose because the freshly fallen rocks kept rolling and shifting. His canteen dangled from its strap, dancing around his stomach. Grabbing Szabla around one of her biceps, Juan stepped forward onto a mound of rocks. A creaking sound from above startled him, and he turned to see an Opuntia bending over the brink of the cliff. With a screech, it split, snapping in a fork up the line of its meter-wide trunk. The weighty cactus tree plummeted down at them.

With all his might, Juan flung Szabla away from the base of the cliff, lifting her off her feet. She hit the ground in a roll and didn't stop until she was up and sprinting for the water. The force of hurling Szabla threw Juan backward, his shoulders striking the base of the rocky wall. He slid down onto his ass, slumping into the ground, blinking hard as if to fight off a haze.

The cactus tree sliced the air a few yards in front of him, smashing into the lava. For a moment, it rested upside down, creaking and moaning, as though deciding which way to fall. Juan raised his arms to protect his face, his mouth open in a silent yell. With excruciating slowness, the cactus tree fell away from him, toppling toward the water.

The ground slowed its shaking and then, aside from the light pebbles drumming their way down the cliff face, it was still. Juan's breath left him in a gasp of relief.

Derek and Tank clawed their way over the fallen cactus tree, the thick, moisture-retaining spines digging into their palms and knees. "Juan!" Derek yelled. "You all right?"

"I'm fine." Juan tried to sit up but grimaced sharply and clutched his side. He collapsed again, fighting weakness and gravity. "Just need...a little . . . hand here."

Derek stepped forward, high on the cactus tree, and took Juan's hand, gripping it firmly around the thumb so that he could better bear his weight. Tank stood behind him, boots smashing down the cactus pads.

"All right," Derek said. "One...two..."

An aftershock rippled the ground and Derek's feet went out from under him. The cactus spines dug into his back even through his cam-mies, and he grunted with pain, but he didn't let go of Juan's hand. Juan moaned, jerked forward by his arm. Derek managed to sit up, his hand still tight around Juan's. They were only about two feet from each other, their eyes level.

"I got you, buddy," Derek said. "I still got you."

A large lava rock, the size of a sailor's chest, dislodged from the top of the cliff. It banged once against the face, letting loose a scattering of dirt and stone, and was free in the air, hurtling down.

They both looked up just as the rock struck Juan, glancing off the side of his head and smashing into his lap. His hand was ripped from Derek's with such force that his fingernails left red lines down Derek's palm.

Juan grunted under the impact, a spray of blood leaving his lips, and then he was buried under the rock, only the top of his head visible. His legs stuck out awkwardly beneath it, twitching. His canteen was smashed to pieces through his thighs.

"Jesus God," Derek whispered. "Jesus God."

Tank stumbled forward, pulling his boots free from the cactus tree, and stood above the boulder and Juan's body. For a moment, it was deathly quiet.

Then they heard the rasping.

Juan's head tilted and pulled back from the rock. The entire right side of his face was awash in blood, a shard of cheekbone glinting some-where in the mess. Breath rattled through him. His lips faded away into crushed teeth. The bloody maw opened. And screamed. A splattering of blood left the mouth with each cry.

"Get it off!" Derek yelled. "Get the fucking thing off."

Tank struggled forward, cactus pads stuck to the bottoms of his boots. Lines of sweat streaked from his hairline, curving down his ruddy cheeks.

Derek grabbed the rock and fought against it, but it didn't budge. He felt a jagged edge tear into his right hand, but he strained against the wound with all his might.

The screaming quickened.

Tank laid one massive hand on Derek's shoulder and hurled him aside. He spread his arms and seized the rock in a massive embrace. Dipping low on his haunches, he prepared himself as though for a power-lifting squat.

The screaming continued--harsh, rattling cries filled with liquid. Juan started to jerk back and forth, flailing against the rock. Blood was splat-tering all over the place now; Derek could see droplets filling the air even over Tank's shoulders.

"Jesus, kill him. We should just kill him," Derek yelled.

But he had no gun. He found himself looking around for a rock to use as a makeshift weapon, his stomach cold and pulsing at the thought.

Straining with all his might, Tank rose from his crouch. He groaned through his clenched teeth, the sound rising to a roar. His face filled with blood, swelling until it looked as if it would explode if pricked with a pin. His shirt split straight down the back.

The boulder shifted in Juan's lap and then rose, hovering barely an inch above his smashed thighs. With another roar, Tank leaned back, hugging the rock to his chest and getting it about two feet off the ground. With the force of his entire body, he tried to hurl the boulder to one side, but it dribbled out of his arms, thunking into the lava.

Juan lay motionless, his jaw open with his dying scream. His arms were twisted up to his chest, one hand bent out at a grotesque angle, a nub of bone protruding from the wrist.

Tank swayed as he looked at the body, his arms moving like pendulums. He tried to clench his hands into fists but could not. They dangled open in defeat. Red scrapes ran all the way from the insides of his wrists up across his chest. His shirt hung from his shoulders in ribbons.

"Let's go," Derek said. He rested a hand on Tank's shoulder, but Tank shook it off. "He's done," Derek said sternly. "Let's clear out before more aftershocks hit."

Tank nodded once, a slight movement of his head. Derek rested a hand on his shoulder, turning him toward the water. Tank grunted with his first step. Derek stabilized him as best he could with an arm around his waist, but it didn't really help.

They crested the cactus tree, and Tank stumbled roughly down, taking a spray of spines across the back of his thighs. His feet jarred against the lava, and he would have kept going down to his knees if Derek hadn't caught him, staggering under his weight. Tank righted himself, whimpering like a puppy.

Szabla took an instinctive step forward, but Cameron grabbed her shoulder. "Orders," she said. Breathing hard, Szabla pushed Cameron's hand from her shoulder, but stayed put. Tank leaned hard on Derek as they approached, his movements stiff and pained.

A section of the cliff gave way, burying Juan's corpse and the Zodiac in a surge of rocks. As the last few stones tumbled to the top of the mound, Derek locked his arms around Tank's waist, lacing his fingers and straining as they stumbled across the slippery black rock into the surf. They tried to duck a four-foot wave, but it hit them square in the chest. Tank came up gasping, facing the others. To the west, water shot through the blowholes, sending screeching blasts into the air.

Szabla's face was blank. "Juan?" she asked.

Derek shook his head.

Justin leaned into Cameron, and she pressed back reassuringly with her shoulder. Tucker looked out across the rough ocean, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Savage smiled. "Welcome to Sangre de Dios," he said in a low purring voice.

Tank's legs gave out, and he hit the surf with a splash. It took four of them to lift him out of the water.

Chapter
25

The
tremors subsided and soon Derek didn't even have to brace against the waves. The mound of lava rocks at the cliff shifted, sending a trickle down one side that flowed gentle and steady like hourglass sand before stopping. The air stilled.

Trailing long, slender streamers, a few red-billed tropicbirds circled overhead, preparing to return to their nests in the cliff walls. Baby Sally Lightfoot crabs scrabbled across the lava, their bright orange shells seeming to glow against the dark rock.

The soldiers waited silently for another aftershock, standing thigh-deep in the water. After about fifteen minutes, Derek sloshed up onto the flat lava plain. He turned to help Tank pull himself up, and the oth-ers followed.