Cry of the Cicada (Short) Page 2

of you in the forest and she's liable to get lost trying." Kate attempted to hide her grin and failed. "And stop playing tricks on her. She nearly had a heart attack when you put that jumping spider on your head and told her it was a deadly—"

  "Wolf Spider.” Sasha finished for her, dissolving into a fit of giggles. “It's not my fault she's silly enough to think they’re poisonous. I had no idea it would jump onto her arm." She sighed and cast a disapproving look at the timid nanny. "Fine, I'll stay with Yellow-Belly-Melanie, but I won't like it!"

  "Thanks honey. And don't call her that. It's not nice, even if it is accurate."

  Kate shuffled around the cramped trailer gathering equipment. After a final inventory, she grabbed her backpack, flopped her old Tilley hat on, retrieved her trusty walking stick, and joined the others at the kitchen trailer.

  Their guide, a young forest ranger named Grey, was attempting to examine a large topographical map which kept twisting and fluttering in the wind.

  Professor Hertson let out a frustrated growl and grabbed the map from her. He laid it on the ground, dropping a rock on each of the corners to hold it down. “They make forestry maps waterproof for a reason. It’s not bloody fine china.”

  Grey’s face flushed as she crouched beside the map.

  Peterson, the group’s Ecologist, discovered a speck of mud on his pristine hiking boots and wiped it off with a bleached white handkerchief.

  Kate wondered, not for the first time, how these people functioned well enough to be counted as experts of anything. Peterson, with his perfectly pressed, specially engineered, matching khaki hiking shirt and pants, looked like he had never even been for a walk in a park, let alone the woods. Judging from Hertson’s attitude so far, Kate figured he must go through lab and teaching assistants like toilet paper. And Grey, poor thing, she suspected this was her first post.

  Kate took in the ranger’s rumpled uniform and untied left shoelace. How can someone who can’t even keep her shoelaces tied lead us anywhere? Thank the gods for GPS and satellite phones.

  After arguing with Grey about their route, Hertson finally threw his hands up in despair. “Fine. We’ll go your way, but we have a better chance of ending up in China than at the mating site.”

  Grey wordlessly snatched up the map, shoved it into her pack in an untidy lump, and headed into the forest. The group hesitantly trailed after her. At the edge of the clearing, Kate turned and waved to her daughter.

  Sasha, who had been watching the proceedings, raised her hand and waved back. A shiver of foreboding crawled down her spine as the trees engulfed the hikers. Casting a nervous glance at the encircling green, she ran off to start her day's mischief.

  Forest. July 13 - 11:03

  After hours of hiking a circuitous and grueling route, the hikers emerged from a lush forest into a wasteland. Trees stood like hideously scarred skeletons, bare and twisted limbs groping desperately for the sky. The sun beat down on the area and a foul smelling steam rose from the rotting undergrowth.

  “Jesus Christ! Look at this place,” exclaimed Peterson. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean, I’ve seen forests after fires and tornados, but…uuuuuugggg...what is that smell?” He clamped a dainty hand over his mouth, gagging.

  Kate shook herself out of her stupor and examined the nearest ravaged tree. “Based on the data collected last time Cicada matured in this region, the destruction shouldn’t be anywhere near this bad. Certainly, not over this large of an area...and not so complete.” She cast a pained look at the devastated horizon. “There isn’t one tree still living. We must be dealing with a massive population. And they must have been active for weeks for this level of decay to be present.”

  She scooped up a glob of putrefying matter from the forest floor and put it in a specimen container. Running her fingers over the mutilated bark of a nearby tree, she found what she was looking for and slipped her pocketknife under the disfigured surface. A cascade of waxy eggs slid down the knife blade. “At least they left plenty of samples. Christ, they’ll have to burn the entire forest to get rid of these.”

  Wasteland. July 13 - 11:24

  "Wolfe. You need to see this," yelled Hertson.

  Kate glanced over her shoulder to where he was crouched and waved. "Be there in a sec."

  The others were already crowded around him by the time she finished collecting her sample set. The sharp, foul scent of rotting flesh grew stronger, the closer she came to the group, so she wasn’t surprised to find the decomposing body of what appeared to be a deer. What was surprising was that the flesh was so thoroughly slashed. The poor creature looked as though it had been turned inside out.

  Kate frowned at the carcass, trying to catch hold of a thought that kept slipping away from her like a wet bar of soap. She scanned the area, but her gaze kept coming back to the deer. It was then she noticed the silence.

  No black flies. A prickle crawled up the back of her neck and over her scalp. Given the state of decay, there should be thousands of flies buzzing around. She slowly turned in a circle, taking in the complete absence of life with growing dread.

  “I reckon this was partly what you smelt, Peterson,” said Hertson, poking at the carcass with a twig. An acrid gas hissed from the bloated body and enveloped the group.

  Grey swore and backed away.

  “Yeah, that was it all right,” Peterson said with two fingers clamped over his nose. “I’ve collected all I want from here. I’m ready to go if you guys are.”

  The group carried on, crossing the wasteland and passing once more into live forest on the other side. There was a collective sigh of relief when Grey headed upwind from the oppressive stench.

  A glint from under a tree caught Kate’s eye and she stopped to examine it. Something chittered and rustled away.

  "Hey guys, check this out. I found a Cicada casement...I think. It's got all the right markings and structures, but it's way larger than anything I’ve seen." She held it out for the group. The casement covered her hand, from fingertips to wrist. "This is amazing! We must be dealing with a new offshoot of Cicada." Kate’s voice rose with excitement.

  "Wonderful. Great big bugs. I knew I shouldn't have come on this damn trip," complained Peterson. He shivered and retreated a step.

  "Really Peterson, whoever heard of an Ecologist who was scared of bugs. You're in the wrong line of work, old boy," Hertson chided, taking the husk from Kate. After examining it, he handed it back to her. "I think you're right Wolfe. But, it's common to find some anomalous size differences within a species. Perhaps this fellow was just large. Then again, the amount of destruction...maybe…" he said with an indecisive shrug. "We'll have to get a look at the adults."

  "Then let’s keep moving." Her interest peeked, Kate set off into the forest.

  Wasteland. July 13 - 13:28

  As they walked, Kate began to hear a shrill droning sound in the distance. It increased in vibrancy and tone the further they went.

  Grey shook her head and yawned, mistaking it for elevation pressure in her ears. When it didn’t clear, she asked, “What the hell is that?”

  “I’m not certain, but it might be—” began Kate.

  “If we’re lucky,” Hertson interrupted, cocking his head to the side. “It’s the Cicada. The males make that noise. I’m disappointed, Wolfe. I thought you'd at least recognize Cicada song.” He pushed past them and forged ahead.

  Kate glowered at his back and then followed, muttering that the Cicada song was merely indistinguishable from the other irritating noises.

  Grey snorted and gave her a quick pat on the arm.

  After sharing an exasperated look with the ranger, Kate cocked her head, trying to determine which direction the noise was coming from. She promptly bumped into Hertson, who had stopped dead.

  Peering around him, she realized that they had come to a ridge overlooking a valley. The air was swaying and swirling, as if consumed by a localized storm. Brown, white, red, and black mixed and separated, carpeting the landscape and
clouding the sky with mesmerizing patterns.

  The group stood transfixed.

  “Holy shit,” gasped Peterson. “I don’t like this. I really don’t like this. Guys...let's just get out of here.” He stepped back, away from the edge, and there was a juicy CRUNCH.

  He let out a high pitched scream when he saw the half-squished Cicada under his boot. A puddle of thick, milky liquid oozed out as its front legs futilely twitched and grasped at the air.

  Peterson howled again and leapt to the side. He vigorously wiped his boot sole on a rock and then through a thick tuft of grass. “That’s it. I’m outta here. Get a damn sample and let’s go.”

  “Looks like that casement wasn’t so anomalous after all,” said Grey. She turned back to the valley and stared at the swarm.

  Kate and Hertson eagerly studied the dying Cicada.

  “It is a new species,” she whispered. As she flipped the insect over, Grey suddenly yelped.

  Kate turned and saw a Cicada’s cutting spur buried deep in the forest ranger’s arm. Operating on pure instinct, she leapt and swiped at the bug with her walking stick. Nobody was more surprised than she was, when her blow connected and sent the Cicada spinning away. Stunned, it hit the ground and lay still for a second before righting itself and clumsily flying off.

  “Let’s get that cleaned right away.” Kate unclipped the med-kit pouch she wore around her waist.

  Grey shakily took the supplies and waved her away. “I’ll take