Amazonia: a novel

by James Rollins

  Manny felt something vibrating on his pantleg. He glanced down and used his free hand to swat the locust away. The bugs were getting bolder.

  “We should be through them by now,” Kouwe muttered.

  “I think they’re following us,” Anna said.

  Kouwe slowed, and his eyes narrowed. “I believe you’re right.”

  “What are we going to do?” Zane hissed. “These torches aren’t gonna last much longer. Maybe if we ran. Maybe we could—”

  “Quiet…let me think!” Kouwe scolded. He stared at the swarm and mumbled. “Why are they following us? Why aren’t they staying where they were summoned?”

  Carrera spoke softly at the rear of the group. She held her torch high. “Maybe they’re like those piranha creatures. Once drawn here, they caught our scent. They’ll follow us now until one or the other of us is destroyed.”

  Manny had a sudden idea. “Then why don’t we do what the Ban-ali do?”

  “What do you mean?” Kelly asked.

  “Give the buggers something more interesting than our blood to swarm after.”

  “Like what?”

  “The same scent that drew the locusts here in the first place.” Words tumbled from Manny in his excitement. He pictured the flaming symbol of the Blood Jaguars. “Corporal Jorgensen and I doused the flames that produced the smoky pheromone or whatever—but the fuel is still there! Out in the forest.” He pointed his arm.

  Jorgensen nodded. “Manny’s right. If we could relight it…”

  Kouwe brightened. “Then the fresh smoke would draw the swarm away from us, keep it here while we ran off.”

  “Exactly,” Manny said.

  “Let’s do it,” Zane said. “What are we waiting for?”

  Jorgensen stepped in front. “With our torches burning low, time is limited. There’s no reason to risk all of us going back.”

  “What are you saying?” Manny asked.

  Jorgensen pointed. “You all continue on the trail after the others. I’ll backtrack and light the fire on my own.”

  Manny stepped forward. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I won’t risk a civilian.” Jorgensen backed away. “And besides, I can travel faster on my own.”

  “But—”

  “We’re wasting time and powder,” the corporal barked. He turned to his fellow Ranger. “Carrera, get everyone away from here. Double time. I’ll join up with you after I’ve lit the motherfucker.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With a final nod, Jorgensen turned and began to trot back toward the camp, torch held high. In moments, his form was swallowed away as he dove through the swarm. Just the bobbing light of his torch illuminated his progress, then even that vanished amid the dense mass of swirling insects.

  “Move out!” Carrera said.

  The group turned and once again headed down the trail. Manny prayed the corporal succeeded. With a final glance behind him, Manny followed the others.

  Jorgensen rushed through the swarm. With only his single torch protecting 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 multitude of terrains: mountains, jungles, swamps, snow, desert.

  But never this…never a goddamn 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 shield 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 balls-out action. How many farm boys from the backwaters of Minnesota had a chance to do this?

  He thrust his torch forward and forged ahead. “Fuck 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 signature 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 God.”

  Jorgensen planted his torch in the soft loam, then leaned over and swept free the dirt and scrabbling bugs from the buried resinous compound. Locusts lay thick over this site. Several bites stung his hand as he brushed them away. Leaning close, the residual fumes from the oil filled his nostrils, bitter and sharp. The professor was right. It certainly attracted the buggers.

  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. “Shit!” The smattering of sticky oil on his hand had caught the flames. “Shit!”

  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. Jorgensen swore and snatched 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, God!”

  Kelly heard the first scream, a horrible sound that froze everyone in place.

  “Jorgensen…” Private Carrera said, swinging around.

  Kelly stepped beside the Ranger.

  “We can’t go back,” Zane said, shifting further down the trail.

  A second scream, bone-chilling, garbled, echoed from the forest.

  Kelly noticed the swarm of locusts whisk from around them, retreating back toward the original campsite. “They’re leaving!”

  Professor Kouwe spoke at her shoulder. “The corporal must have succeeded in relighting the symbol.”

  By now, the agonized cries were constant, prolonged, bestial. No human could scream like that.

  “We have to go help him,” Manny said.

  Carrera 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.

  Carrera 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.

  Carrera 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 Carrera held him back.

  The swarm rolled back over the kneeling man, swallowing him.<
br />
  “It’s too late,” Carrera said. “And we’re all running out of time.” Punctuating 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 foremost in Kelly’s mind. Her daughter needed her. Her mind roiled with flashes of her child in bed, burning with fever. I’ll get back to you, baby, she promised silently.

  But deep in her heart, she now wondered if it was a pact she could keep. With each step deeper into the forest, more men died. Graves, DeMartini, Conger, Jones…and now Jorgensen…

  She shook her head, refusing to give up hope. As long as she was alive, putting one foot in front of the other, she would find a way home.

  Over the next hour, the group forged through the forest, following the path the other half of their team had taken the previous afternoon. One by one, their torches flickered out. Flashlights were passed around. So far, no sign of renewed pursuit by the swarm manifested. Maybe they were safe, beyond the interest of the blind locusts, but no one voiced such a hope aloud.

  Manny marched close to the Ranger. “What if we miss the other team?” he asked softly. “Jorgensen had our radio equipment. It was our only way of contacting the outside world.”

  Kelly hadn’t considered this fact. With the radio gone, they were cut off.

  “We’ll reach the others,” Carrera said with a steely determination.

  No one argued with her. No one wanted to.

  They marched onward through the dark jungle, concentrating on just moving forward. As hours ticked by, the tension blended into a blur of bone-weary exhaustion and endless fear. Their passage was marked with hoots and strange cries. Everyone’s ears were pricked for the telltale buzz of the locusts.

  So they were all startled when the small personal radio hanging from Private Carrera’s field jacket squawked with static and a few scratchy words. “This is…if you can hear…radio range…”

  Everyone swung to face the Ranger, eyes wide. She pulled her radio’s microphone from her helmet to her mouth. “This is Private Carrera. Can you hear me? Over.”

  There was a long pause, then…“Read you, Carrera. Warczak here. What’s your status?”

  The Ranger quickly related the events in a dispassionate and professional manner. But Kelly saw how the soldier’s fingers trembled as she held the microphone to her lips. She finished, “We’re following your trail. Hoping to rendezvous with the main team in two hours.”

  Corporal Warczak responded, “Roger that. Dr. Rand and I are already under way to meet you. Over and out.”

  The Ranger closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “We’re gonna be okay,” she whispered to no one in particular.

  As the others murmured in relief, Kelly stared out at the dark jungle.

  Out here in the Amazon, they were all far from okay.

  Act Four

  Blood Jaguars

  HORSETAIL

  family: Equisetaceae

  genus: Equisetum

  species: Arvense

  common name: Field Horsetail

  ethnic names: At Quyroughi, Atkuyrugu, Chieh Hsu Ts’Ao, Cola de Caballo, Equiseto Menor, Kilkah Asb, Prele, Sugina, Thanab al Khail, Vara de Oro, Wen Ching

  properties/actions: Astringent, Antiinflammatory, Diuretic, Antihemorrhagic

  Twelve

  Lake Crossing

  AUGUST 15, 8:11 A.M.

  INSTAR INSTITUTE

  LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

  Lauren slid the magnetic security card through the lock on her office door and entered. It was the first chance she’d had to return to her office in the past day. Between stretches in the institute’s hospital ward visiting Jessie and meetings with various MEDEA members, she hadn’t had a moment to herself. The only reason she had this free moment was that Jessie seemed to be doing very well. Her temperature continued to remain normal, and her attitude was growing brighter with every passing hour.

  Cautiously optimistic, Lauren began to hope that her initial diagnosis had been mistaken. Maybe Jessie did not have the jungle disease. Lauren was now glad she had kept silent about her fears. She could have needlessly panicked Marshall and Kelly. Lauren may have indeed placed too much confidence in Alvisio’s statistical model. But she could not fault the epidemiologist. Dr. Alvisio had indeed warned her his results were far from conclusive. Further data would need to be collected and correlated.

  But then again, that pretty much defined all the current levels of investigation. Each day, as the disease spread through Florida and the southern states, thousands of theories were bandied about: etiological agents, therapeutic protocols, diagnostic parameters, quarantine guidelines. Instar had become the nation’s think tank on this contagion. It was their job to ferret through the maze of scientific conjecture and fanciful epidemiological models to glean the pearls from the rubbish. It was a daunting task as data flowed in from all corners of the country. But they had the best minds here.

  Lauren collapsed into her seat and flicked on her computer. The chime for incoming mail sounded. She groaned as she slipped on a pair of reading glasses and leaned closer to the screen. Three hundred and fourteen messages waited. And this was just her private mailbox. She scrolled down the list of addresses and skimmed the subject lines, searching through the little snippets for anything important or interesting.

  Inbox

  From Subject

  jpcdvm@davis.uc.org re: simian biosimilarities

  trent_magnus@scriabs.com call for sample standardization

  systematica@cdc.gov prog. report

  xreynolds@largebio.com large scale biological labs

  synergymeds@phdrugs.com pharmacy question

  gerard@dadecounty.fl.gov quarantine projection

  hrt@washingtonpost.org request for interview

  As she scrolled down, one name caught her eye. It was oddly familiar, but she could not remember exactly why. She brought her computer’s pointer to the name: Large Scale Biological Labs. She crinkled her nose in thought, then it came to her. The night Jessie’s fever developed, she had been paged by this same outfit. Well after midnight, she recalled. But the sick child had distracted her from following up on the page.

  It probably wasn’t important, but she opened the e-mail anyway, her curiosity now aroused. The letter appeared on the screen. Dr. Xavier Reynolds. She smiled, instantly recognizing the name. He had been a grad student of hers years ago and had taken a position at some lab in California, perhaps this same lab. The young man had been one of her best students. Lauren had attempted to recruit him into the MEDEA group here at Instar, but he had declined. His fiancée had accepted an associate professorship at Berkeley, and he had naturally not wanted to be separated.

  She read his note. As she did, the smile on her lips slowly faded.

  From: xreynolds@largebio.com

  Date: 14 Aug 13:48:28

  To: lauren_obrien@instar.org

  Subject: Large Scale Biological Labs

  Dr. O’Brien:

  Please excuse this intrusion. I attempted to page you last night, but I assume you’re very busy. So I’ll keep this brief.

  As with many labs around the country, our own is involved in researching the virulent disease, and I think I’ve come across an intriguing angle, if not a possible answer to the root puzzle: What is causing the disease? But before voicing my findings, I wanted to get your input.

  As head of the proteonomic team here at Large Scale Biological L
abs, I have been attempting to index mankind’s protein genome, similar to the Human Genome Project for DNA. As such, my take on the disease was to investigate it backward. Most disease-causing agents—bacteria, viruses, fungi, parasites—do not cause illness by themselves. It is the proteins they produce that trigger clinical disease. So I hunted for a unique protein that might be common to all patients.

  And I found one! But from its folded and twisted pattern, a new thought arose. This new protein bears a striking similarity to the protein that causes bovine spongiform encephalopathy. Which in turn raises the question: Have we been chasing the wrong tail in pursuing a viral cause for this disease?