This Green Hell

Garmadia placed his hand on Alex’s forearm and looked sternly into his face. ‘We will stay here until we receive further orders, Captain Hunter.’

Alex ignored him and continued to scan the campsite. He and Garmadia were both captains, but Garmadia still believed he had been put in the charge of the mission. Sam rolled his eyes, probably expecting someone was about to receive a small broken bone.

Garmadia dropped his hand and spoke in a lowered voice. ‘I will check in with Colonel Lugo when he wakes. Until then, we hold our position. I don’t need to remind you, Captain Hunter, that this site is under an executive quarantine order and—’

‘Call who you like, Captain Garmadia, but we’re going to take a closer look,’ Alex said.

He dropped his pack and pulled his rifle down from over his shoulder. The three HAWCs immediately did the same. Alex spoke over his shoulder. ‘Sam, left flank; Franks, take the right. Mak, you give us some rear cover and stay with the doctors.’

Just as they were about to step forward, Alex held his hand in the air. No one moved. Seconds passed then a zip went up on one of the tents and a man staggered out and walked to the edge of the jungle. He lifted one leg of his shorts and urinated into the foliage, tilting his head back, obviously enjoying the relief. He finished with a fart so loud it made a coloured bird screech back at him from the tree overhead. Both Chaco and Saqueo sniggered from behind the HAWCs.

‘Well, that looks a little more normal,’ Sam said.

‘Can we wait a second for that gas to dissipate?’ Franks asked, seeing the man was on her right-side flank.

‘Negative. Just hold your breath, soldier. Remember: war is hell.’ Sam grinned as he checked the slide on his gun.

Alex held a finger to his lips then pointed with a flat hand into the camp. Sam and Franks fanned out left and right just behind the tree line as Alex stepped into the clearing. Although a large man, he moved quietly and with sure-footedness on the lumpy wet surface. Every ten feet he paused to listen, but it was difficult to pick up individual signs of life as the jungle was a cacophony of sounds, smells and small movements. It was like a living thing surrounding them and testing all of their senses. Alex knew Aimee was here — and alive — he could feel it. But he also sensed the presence of something else — something almost primordial, repellent and powerful.

He walked past the zipped tents and sensed the men inside. Some of the tents were full, and some only contained one person. Strange, he thought. If there are supposed to be around one hundred workers, there’s an awful lot of them missing.

One of the tents’ zips came down and a small brown head popped out. The man and Alex stared at each other for a few seconds. Alex smiled and winked, but the man’s eyes went wide and, like a magic trick, his head disappeared and the zip flew back up. Perhaps the sight of a giant in green and black camouflage clothing, carrying a lethal-looking gun, was a bit much first thing in the morning.

Alex could sense Aimee clearly now — he almost smiled with relief. He moved quickly towards one of the cabins and stopped twenty feet from the door. He hesitated, unsure why he didn’t just walk up and push the door open.

* * *

Aimee pulled back the curtain and felt shock run through her body. Alex Hunter stood a few feet from her door like a green and black statue. He hadn’t changed a bit — same thick, black hair, same unwavering gaze from grey-green eyes. No, she thought as she looked harder, he has changed. His eyes were sadder, held more pain than she remembered.

A smile split her face and she went to launch herself at the door. Then something inside her yelled, Stop! She and Alex hadn’t seen each other for years, and she had walked out on him. He’d probably moved on by now, maybe even had another girlfriend. All she was likely to do was embarrass herself, and him. Her heart beat hard in her chest, and her stomach flipped and danced. Shut up, stay cool, she wanted to shout at them.

She raised her hand to her cheek and felt the rash pimpling the flesh. Suddenly she became very aware of her body odour and the greasy strings of black hair that hung over her eyes. Alex, as usual, looked perfect…at least to her.

She sucked in a deep breath of humid air, squared her shoulders and pulled the cabin door open calmly and slowly.

I’m going to be relaxed and wait for him to come over to me. I’ll just shake his hand and maybe kiss his cheek, like old friends do. After all, that’s what we are now.

She stood on the top step, fidgeting. She felt as if time had slowed down. Oh, fuck it, she thought, and stepped to the ground with a casual smile and her hand outstretched. Her bare foot sank into a mud puddle. Yech, forgot the boots, didn’t you? She stretched her smile even wider.

* * *

Alex’s extraordinary senses were concentrated on the woman coming towards him, and as she approached he absorbed every bit of information about her — her eyes, her mouth, her heartbeat and breathing. She swallowed, then swallowed again. Her heart was racing in her chest.

She was as beautiful as he remembered, but tired; she looked so very tired. He probably should have expected that — the quarantine order, the power failures, the heat and humidity. But there was something else he could sense within her: fear. Not of him, or the jungle, but of something else — an instinctive fear of something dangerous. The same thing Alex could feel all around them — a hopeless dread hanging over the camp.

He kept looking at her, trying to see deeper into her, trying to read the woman who had once shared his life. Sometimes he was able to pick up potent mental images created by strong emotions. Unfortunately, Aimee’s mind was clouded with fatigue, fear and stress.

Alex flipped his gun over his shoulder so it hung at his back, prepared to fold her in his arms — a reflex from their past time together. He quickly adjusted the action as her hand came up for a formal greeting. Surprised, he took it but didn’t shake; he just held her hand and looked into her eyes, their familiar soft blue.

‘Aimee,’ was all he said, all he could manage. She had once been the most important woman in his life. A bond had formed between them in the ice caves in the Antarctic, and it had grown stronger during the time they’d spent together after that. Even though their relationship was over, that bond refused to break, at least for him. It was still so strong that he would have sensed her death as keenly as if he had lost a limb.

‘Thank God you’re okay,’ he said, continuing to hold her hand.

She just stood there looking up at him, her mouth opening then closing without any words coming out. Seconds passed before they both heard someone clear their throat at the jungle’s edge.

Alex got the message. ‘Okay, come on in,’ he called.

The HAWCs stepped out from the jungle and Alex saw Aimee’s smile when she saw his second-in- command.

‘Samuel Jackson Reid, he dragged you down here as well?’ she said in delight.

Sam had become a good friend to Aimee when she and Alex were a couple, and later had offered a rock-solid sounding board for her anxiety about Alex’s rages.

‘Of course I came, young lady. The boss here said something about nature walks, tropical fruit and sunshine — and, well, who could resist?’ He gave her a wink and a smile.

The scientists and the two local boys had followed the HAWCs into the clearing.

Aimee turned to look at them, then nodded to Maria Vargis. ‘I’m hoping you’re Dr Vargis. Thank heavens you’re here.’ She stuck her hand out, but Maria had looked away and seemed to miss the gesture.

Alex introduced Aimee to the rest of the team. He noticed that Michael Vargis blushed slightly when he shook her hand, and that Casey Franks also looked at her with admiration and interest.

By now many of the workers had poked their heads out of their tents, and their curious murmurs were waking the others. In a few more minutes, the camp’s remaining residents surrounded the HAWCs. A man wearing a creased piece of paper pinned to his T-shirt approached Aimee.

Maria Vargis’s shout startled them all. ‘Keep them back!’

Captain Garmadia seemed to take it as an instruction. He shouted in Spanish and put one hand on his sidearm, waving his other hand at Tomas and then at the rest of the men encircling them.