Infestation

- 26 -

Svetlanova heard the captain mutter and saw him fumble, hands too cold for the task, at his jacket, trying to get at the inside pocket.

She remembered the burnings; the ship’s captain pouring kerosene down the rig, the other captain lighting the oil on the deck, and the red glare of the blazing flare.

She turned to Hynd and, before the sarge had time to complain, pulled one of the flares from his webbing belt.

“The water. It’s full of diesel,” she said, already turning away and pulling the string on the flare.

She ran forward three steps and threw it, a high and handsome arc toward the harbor. Hynd had seen her plan immediately and a second flare blazed only two seconds after hers, both of them falling into the harbor, right among the shimmering blue.

“Everybody down,” Hynd shouted and pushed Svetlanova to the ground, lying almost on top of her. She was only able to turn her head but it was enough to see the result.

The harbor went up first, a wall of orange flame flash-frying the isopods and eating them away even as it sped across the open sea and took hold around the rent in the cargo ship’s hull. The huge isopod on the deck screamed as the small ones burned and popped, then it too took hold, fire washing up and around the superstructure.

The whole boat went up with a muffled crump. A wave of heat blew across the harbor as the boat collapsed in on itself and the isopods burned.

It was some time before Hynd moved to let her stand.

The cargo boat still burned outside the harbor but the seas around were now dark, with no sign of any blue shimmer.

Banks stood above them as they got up, with the phone in his hand.

“It’s still on. If there’s any of them left, we’ll know soon enough.”

They waited for minutes but there was only the burning boat.

“Good enough,” Banks said. “Let’s get some shelter before we freeze our bollocks off.”

They were inside the large house, with a propane heater going full blast, when they heard the sound of approaching aircraft. They watched from the porch as two bomb runs passed over where the rig had been and the water rose each time in a huge bubble of foaming water. There was no sign of any blue.

“Will it be enough?” Banks asked.

Svetlanova replied how she thought Mac might have wanted her to, in her best Glaswegian accent.

“Fucked if I know, Cap,” she said.