Waxman nodded. "Careful, corporal:"
Okamoto headed for the stream.
"No!" Nate called. "I'm sure it's a trap:"
Okamoto glanced to him, then to his captain, who waved him forward again.
"We have to get off this island," Waxman said.
"Wait," Manny said, stepping forward, his voice pained. "I . . . I can send Tor-tor instead:"
The others were now all gathered around.
Waxman stared at the jaguar, then nodded. "Do it:"
Manny guided his jaguar toward the dark waters.
Nate's mind spun. It was suicide to enter those waters. He knew this as certainly as he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. But Waxman was right. They had to find a way across. He ran through various scenarios in his head.
A rope bridge over the stream. He quickly ruled that out. Even if they could somehow string a bridge up, the aquatic creatures were adept at leaping great heights. They'd all just be so much bait strung on a line.
Maybe grenades tossed in the water to stun them. But the stream was long. Any creatures killed by the concussion would be quickly replaced by those upstream. They would sweep down the sluggish current, attacking the team as they tried to rush across. No, what was needed was something that could strip this entire fork of the creatures-but what could do that?
Then it dawned on him. He had seen the answer demonstrated just a few days back.
By now, Manny and Tor-tor were only a couple of yards from the stream. Okamoto was with them, flames lighting the way.
"Wait!" Nate called. "I have an idea!"
Manny paused.
"What?" Waxman asked.
"According to Manny, these things are basically fish:" So.
Nate ignored the captain's glare and turned to Kouwe. "You have powdered ayaeya vine in your medicine kit, don't you?"
"Certainly, but what-?" Then the professor's eyes grew rounder with understanding. "Brilliant, Nate. I should've thought of that."
"What?" Waxman asked, growing frustrated.
Behind them, up the slope, the line of Rangers held the creatures momentarily at bay with rifles and fire. Down slope, Okamoto stood ready by the river.
Nate quickly explained. "Indians use crushed ayaeya vine to fish:" He remembered the small fishing scene he had witnessed as he canoed with Tama and Takaho to Sao Gabriel: a woman dusting the river with a black powder, while downstream the men gathered stunned fish with spears and nets. "The vine contains a potent rotenone, a toxin that literally chokes and suffocates the fish. The effect is almost instantaneous:'
"So what are you proposing?" Waxman asked.
"I'm familiar with the compound. I'll take the satchel upstream and poison the stream. As the toxin flows down this fork, it should stun any and all of the creatures in the river:"
Waxman's eyes narrowed. "This powder will do this?"
Kouwe answered, digging in his pack. "It should. As long as the creatures are true gill-breathers:" The professor glanced to Manny.
The biologist nodded, clear relief in his eyes. "I'm sure of it:"
Sighing, Waxman waved Okamoto and Manny away from the stream. As the captain turned back to Nate, an explosion sounded behind them.
Dirt, leaves, and branches blew high into the air. Someone had fired a grenade. "They're breaking through!" Sergeant Kostos yelled.
Waxman pointed to Nate. "Move!"
Nate turned.
Professor Kouwe pulled a large leather satchel from his pack and tossed it to Nate. "Be careful:"
Nate caught the bag of powder one-handed, swinging around with his shotgun in the other.
"Camera!" Waxman called and pointed to Nate. "Cover him:"
"Yes, sir:" The private backed down the slope with her flamethrower, leaving her post to Okamoto.
"When you first start to see fish float to the surface," Nate instructed the others, "haul ass across. Though the current here is slow, I'm not sure how long the effect will last before the toxin is swept away."
"I'll make sure we're ready," Kouwe said.
Nate glanced around the group. Kelly's eyes met his, a fist clutched to her throat. He offered her a small, confident smile, then turned away.
Together,
he and Private Camera sprinted upstream, keeping a wary distance from the water.
Nate trailed behind the soldier as she strafed the way ahead with continual bursts from her flamethrower. They crashed through the smoking underbrush and raced ahead. Nate searched behind. The encampment of his fellow teammates had dwindled down to a green glow in the forest.
"The buggers must know something's up," Camera said, gasping with exertion. She pointed a free arm toward the stream. A couple splashes marked where creatures were beginning to hop out of the water in pursuit of the pair.
"Keep moving," Nate urged. "It's not much farther."
They rushed on, accompanied by tiny splashes and the sound of crashing bodies hitting the underbrush.
At last they reached the place where the main stream forked into the northern and southern branches, encircling the knoll. Here the channel was narrower, the current swifter, rumbling over rocks in a frothy white foam. More of the creatures leapt from the current, slick bodies glistening in the glow of the firelight.