The way Captain Shuler figured it, you could either laugh or you could cry, and that went for just about everything in life. Laugh or cry, give up or soldier on, live or die. There was a long period after his wife died that the captain just wanted to die. She was everything to him. Even though he wasn’t the best husband and definitely not a great dad—he was away at sea more than he was home—he loved his family with every atom of his being. It took many months for him to rouse himself out of his stupor.
Get busy living or get busy dying, he had thought, and he was too young to just keel over and die. Besides, there was a lot of the world he had yet to see. Now that he was alone, he would wander as far out into the world as he could and experience as much as possible before the end came for him. When it did come, whether it was to be tonight or in a dozen years, as long as he kept moving forward, he would be ready.
The slope in front of them ran out for a mile. They didn’t walk down it, because their destination was lateral along the slope line, where the easy rock slope turned into a mess of boulders and crumbling cliffs with sharp overhangs. That’s where the caves were, tucked into the most dangerous part of the mountain. Looking out over the terrain made the captain a little nervous. Marion, the botanist, had already almost killed himself, and Shuler knew that in order to traverse the jagged terrain ahead, they would be using more rope and technical climbing skills that only Magda possessed.
“We aren’t pushing on tonight are we?” Magda asked.
“Why not?” the photographer asked.
The biologist shrugged and looked over to Magda. His expression said that he agreed with the photographer. “The way I figure from the sat maps is that those caves are just a few hundred yards over there.”
The captain had the satellite image map out. He nodded. “That is correct, due northwest, three to four hundred yards at the most.” He caught the dark look from Magda. “It’s getting a little dark out, though.”
The photographer rolled his eyes.
“What are you in a hurry for, anyway? You can’t take pictures without light, can you?”
It was a good question. They all turned to the photographer to await his reply.
“It’s called off-camera lighting, and yes, I can shoot in the dark. That’s not really the point, though, we need to get up—”
“We need to stay safe,” Magda interrupted. “Marion is hurt, he needs rest. And we’re all undoubtedly dehydrated.”
“I feel fine,” the big biologist said.
“And, we’re supposed to be meeting up with the other group that’s heading this way, remember?”
“Well—”
“Furthermore, I’m not setting up ropes that may have to save our lives if I can’t see well enough to be confident in my work.”
“Oh come on, don’t be a wuss.”
The captain suddenly stood up.
“What, Captain? What’s the problem?”
The captain rested his palm on the big bowie knife. “All right, boys,” he began, with determination in his voice. “I’m not sure what’s gotten up your asses today. What the hell happened to all that bohemian friendliness I witnessed back on the boat? Whatever, I don’t care. One thing you aren’t going to do, is speak to a lady like that. Second, if you boys want to go walk out to the caves tonight, fine. I’ll set up camp here and get some coffee brewing. Someone has to wait for the other group.”
This was the most they had heard the captain speak the entire trip. The injured Marion was sitting and just looking from one person to the other. There were a few moments of very tense silence. No one wanted to argue with the captain, and it wasn’t just because at sixty, he was the oldest among them. The captain had a deep voice with the rumble of grit. He wasn’t loud, but when he did speak, every word seemed to demand attention. His confidence was intimidating, to say the least. Captain Shuler had spent many years of his life captaining ships, commanding men, and making many life or death decisions. He stared flatly at the two men to whom he had spoken, daring them to argue.
The big biologist glanced over to the photographer expectantly. The photographer narrowed his eyes at the captain and seethed silently, before motioning over his shoulder to the biologist. The two men then walked away from the group, heading out and away, to the rocky terrain that led to the caves.
“Hey!” Magda shouted to them. They turned back to her and she tossed a coiled rope to them. The biologist caught it easily in one hand. “There’s one hundred feet in that one. Be sure I get it back.”
Magda thought it was funny that the photographer obviously thought he was the alpha dog in this group. Nevertheless, when the captain spoke, it was perfectly clear that though his body wasn’t as large or muscled as the others, he was in fact, the freaking alpha wolf. She watched them walk away in the failing light, then turned back to face Captain Shuler, who had been staring at her. He was attractive for an older man. She thought it was his confidence, more than anything, that made him handsome. Like Sean Connery in The Hunt For Red October.
“You said something about coffee?” she asked playfully. The captain gave her a wry smile.
“Of course, m’lady,” he replied with a grin, and began unpacking the portable stove he’d been carrying.
Magda smiled back at him, thinking the old timer had some guts flirting with her. She put her arm, in a friendly way, around Marion, who still had not moved or said anything.
“Come on,” she urged him. “Let’s work on getting a few tents put up, and be damn glad we aren’t doing any more hiking today.”
“I can show you some of the leaves I’ve collected today,” he suggested hopefully.
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it cap’n?”
Captain Shuler wasn’t paying attention as he was busy setting up the small stove and coffee pot that would sit on top of it. Soon, the delectable aroma of dark strong coffee filled all of their nostrils. The pop tents were easy to set up and were very lightweight since every ounce felt measurable on a long journey like this. They had, in spite of their setbacks, made fairly good time. They reached their destination in only one day, when some less ambitious crews may have split it into two days of hiking.
With the tents up, the three companions set up their small tripod folding stools and rested at last. The captain delivered three piping hot cups of black coffee. Blacker than black, Magda thought. It was so dark and so strong that her mouth puckered against its bitterness. After a few sips, though, she began appreciating the deep bite of the coarsely ground coffee. It had cooled considerably now and the coffee made her feel normal again, as if the ritual brought her back home, to her apartment.
“Too strong for you?” the captain asked. He was gazing at her again.
“No such thing,” she told him, with a wink. A wink? What the hell was she playing at? Ah well, it didn’t really matter anyway did it? You only live once.
The botanist, who tended to blend in when he wasn’t complaining, spoke up. “The coffee is good, captain. Also, thanks for stopping for the night. I needed the rest.” He looked embarrassed and said, “I trained hard for the physical demands of coming out here, but I’m just not as ‘in shape’ as the rest of you. I’ll try harder.”
Captain Shuler had a battery powered lantern on a pole next to his chair. He smiled at the man as he said, “You’re doing fine, son. Just keep your bug spray and your bandana on.”
“Have you noticed there aren’t any birds about?” Marion asked.
Shuler frowned. “I had not really thought about it, but I suppose I haven’t seen any.”
“Right, and I haven’t seen any squirrels, or chipmunks, no shrews or mice. I also haven’t heard any of the many small monkey varieties that live on these islands.”
“What do you make of that, Marion?” Magda asked.
“I’m not really sure.
The only living things I’ve seen are bugs and snakes, and I haven’t actually seen the snakes,” Marion said.
The captain nodded. “I guess that is a little odd, isn’t it? They could just be wary of our presence here though, couldn’t they?”
Magda shook her head. “It is strange, and these animals should have no fear of humans. As far as I know, we’re the first people to come to this island in many years.”
“That’s another strange thing, don’t you think? Why were the Cubans studying this place from a distance? We’re not far from the big island at all, why not just come and investigate themselves?” Marion asked.
The sun was completely down now. Shuler was contemplating Marion’s question when he heard crunching on the rocks.
“Looks like our two bullies have returned,” Marion said.
“No, it’s coming from the wrong direction,” the captain said as he quickly stood up. “Hey!” he shouted into the darkness.
Seconds later, four dirty and weary faces, came into view. “Hey yourself, Captain.”
The exhausted members of the second team trudged slowly toward them. Two of them were holding up another member of the group.
“Jeez guys, what happened?” Magda asked. “You were supposed to be here before us!”
“My God,” the botanist gasped as the haggard group came into view.
“Please,” came the call from doctor Connel. “we need help.”
Captain Shuler was running toward them before she had even finished her statement. Magda was right behind him. The botanist did not rush out to help, but instead started fiddling with the camp chairs.
That guy really is good for nothing, the captain thought.
When the captain reached the group, he stifled a gasp of his own. Between Dr. Connel and Charles was the young Indian Ph.D. The captain didn’t know his doctoral area, only knew they called him Dr. Tsunami. The brown-skinned man was now just as pale as the pearly white Dr. Connel. He was dripping with sweat and his eyelids kept drooping down over his eyes, giving them a hooded appearance. He was conscious, but listless, and his body was limp. It appeared the two holding him up were providing the support for most of his weight.
“My God, what happened to him?” Magda asked, taking up position under the Indian man’s arm, relieving Dr. Connel. The captain took up a mirrored position under the other arm.
“Bring him here,” the botanist called over to them. Shuler glanced his way and saw that the small man had arranged their camping stools into a makeshift cot for their patient. Well I’ll be, Captain thought, he did do something useful.
“We were attacked,” Connel said.
Magda gaped at her, “Attacked? By whom?”
“Not who. What,” the doc said, shaking her head. They reached the makeshift cot and laid the semi-conscious man on it. “You aren’t going to believe this,” she said quietly.
Captain looked away from Dr. Patel, whom he had decided was in desperate condition. “I’m sure, doc, we will believe you.”
The frazzled female doctor looked from the man who had helped her carry Patel then back to the captain.
“We were attacked. By spiders.”
Chapter 17
Holy shit, Emily thought.
Brisbane blinked to lubricate her eyes. They had been glued to the pages of the captain’s journal. Holy shit, she thought again. She had never liked spiders. In truth, she downright hated the little creatures and was a little afraid of them, too. She’d always thought there was something evil about them and here, here’s the proof! She wouldn’t admit that, of course, she had to hide it deep inside. All of her fears, no matter how trivial, had to be buried.
The reason for this was that in her world, the military world, any fear or any trepidation was considered weakness, an opinion that was amplified if you were a woman. Weakness in the military was on par with incompetence. Soldiers would not follow a leader perceived to be weak. That’s why any and all fears had to be tucked away. Emily was disappointed with her behavior early in the day. She had fallen apart, crumbling under the stress of the situation like a small child. Worse, she was sure some of her people had seen it. Hell, she had been sitting on a chair, distraught, in her pajamas, for hours.
That was gossip that, knowing her base, would have been passed all around by now. She sighed. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. The deck had been stacked against her this morning. Migraines were emotional and mental juggernauts. They broke down even the strongest man or the most complex woman. The strongest minds were no match for the unrelenting pain of a migraine headache. She told herself she should go easy on herself, cut herself some slack. Armed men had awaked her by pounding on her door after suffering through a devastating morning headache. Emily had every right to be off, but a leader shouldn’t break down like that. A leader should be able to soldier through anything, no matter what.
“Spiders,” she said aloud. She thought about the large spider that attacked Marc on the Darwin. Marc, who had died tragically and horrifically only a few hours later. “How the hell is this happening?”
In Emily’s mind, the spider that had bitten Marc was most certainly connected to wherever the Darwin had come from. Now, reading this, her certainty was confirmed. Those same arachnids the Darwin crew had encountered were loose in Florida. What the hell was going to happen now?
“I need to bring this journal to the FBI.” Of course she did. I will, she thought, just as soon as I finish it. After all, she hadn’t really learned anything new yet, had she? She was sure that the scientists had surmised, as she had, that the spiders came from wherever the Darwin had been. She knew that the FBI had dumped the ship’s onboard navigation computers and pulled up satellite data from the last sixty days to track its movements. They had determined the ship came from an island called Isla Perdida.
The research team was comprised of brilliant young scientists. Isla Perdida had previously been identified and could be located on a map, but had not yet been explored due to the dangerous terrain and previously hostile Cuban government. Now that the bad blood between the United States and Cuba had settled, the island became open to investigation. This team was the first of what would be many scientists and biologists that would be studying the island in the years to come. Well, maybe not now. How many people will want to go there when they find out there are dangerous spiders that bite people and turn them into freaking maniacal zombies.
The spider was very aggressive and more dangerous to humans than any other that Emily knew of. The CDC scientists hadn’t yet figured out why. Emily hoped to hell that they moved fast. God only knows how many more people would be bitten during the night, and the next day, and the next. Jesus, what if they breed with domestic spiders, just like in that movie with Jeff Daniels? Good lord, she thought, I’m getting paranoid.
Her blush wine was warm now, and the sky was dark outside. Brisbane did not care and filled her glass again. This would be her third generous helping, and the bottle was almost empty. Emily closed the notebook and placed a palm flat on the cover. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She should sleep. The day had been long and mentally draining. Stress and worry were hard on her after a headache, especially when she was not in control. Having the FBI come take over her base was unnerving.
She would not sleep, not now at least. Emily wondered if she should replace the wine with coffee. It really wasn’t good to drink alcohol on a migraine day anyway. A little late for that, she thought. Begrudgingly, she slipped out from under her warm covers and shuffled into the small kitchen. The kitchen was bare; a toaster and a coffee pot were all that was set out on her counter. Filling the pot with water and some fresh coffee grounds, she leaned back against the counter and waited.
A minute later, the rich aroma of Columbian coffee filled the kitchen. Emily took a sip and breathed in deeply. It was warm, and good, but
did nothing to lift her spirits. Nor was the warmth able to pry the icy fingers of dread from around her heart.
“Pick up that end at the same time as me,” Kala said. “No, right under there - under the cover there’s a handle that flips out.”
Abbie located and extended the heavy-duty plastic handle.
“Ready?”
Kala nodded and together they heaved on the five-foot, rigid plastic tote. They groaned under its weight, but the tote rose from the ground. They shuffled it away from the box’s resting place along the workroom wall.
Kala walked the box backward out of the room, banging her shins several times on the hard corners of the large container. Her room was the next door over from the workroom but it seemed to take an hour to get there, most likely because the trunk weighed a hundred pounds. As Kala prepared to make the turn into her bedroom, a small voice spoke up from behind her.
“What are you doing?” Luke asked. He was standing behind her, clad in short-sleeved pajamas emblazoned with a dozen different Iron Man pictures.
The girls paused and Lukie squeezed around Kala in the hallway.
“Why do you have Dad’s hunting trunk?” The curiosity in his voice was thick.
“Dad asked me to get it all cleaned up.”
Lukie cocked his head at her, obviously not satisfied with her answer.
Kala started moving again. “Lukie,” she said, “go wait for me in bed and I’ll come and tuck you in.”
Luke grinned. Mom had already tucked him in an hour ago, and he should have been asleep by now. Still, he had a special bond with Kala and he loved it when she came to tuck him in. Kala thought it was sweet.
“Go on now.”
Lukie turned around and bounded down the hallway to his room. Kala and Abbie returned to the task at hand, backing their way into Kala’s bedroom.
Pathosis (A Dark Evolution Book 1) Page 13