Slither - Edward Lee [6]
Nora and Loren traded a glance. What the hell does the army care about a missile site that doesn't have missiles anymore? Nora had to wonder. The only authority interested in vandalism would be Florida Natural Resources.
The WO and pilots frowned as they carried boxes of supplies off the helicopter.
"Where will we be sleeping, Lieutenant?" Loren inquired.
"Bivouac tents, of course," Trent told them. "And we'll be eating C rats."
"Rats!" Annabelle almost shrieked. "What are you talking about!"
"Rats as in rations. You'll be surprised how good they are. And we do have a field shower, so no one will be getting too stinky."
"There's a domestic water line running out to the island?" Nora questioned.
"No, no, the old missile station has a good old army water purifier and desalinator," Trent explained. "And a generator too, so we'll have some lights."
So we won't be living out here like total aborigines, Nora realized. "Loren and I would like to set up a field lab somewhere so we can catalogue worm samples for the college. We have to use a tent for that?"
"There are fifteen empty head shacks," Trent said. "You can use one of those. It's got lights, electricity for your laptops, whatever you need."
Loren inquired, "Head shacks?"
"That's army lingo for the old launchpads. A head shack is a missile bunker. The missile on its launch rail is called the missile `head,' so that's where head shack comes from. You'll see them in a few minutes. You might have to sweep one out, though. All I do is stick my head in them once a month to make sure there's no squatters."
And ten to one this head shack is chock-full of spiders and God knows what else, Nora considered.
"Could you show us around the island now?" Annabelle asked Trent, a camera slung around her neck. "I'm dying to see it. It looks so exotic."
Trent led them toward. a trail. "If you're a tropical nature buff, you'll find this place pretty interesting."
Nora frowned, lugging two suitcase-sized field kits, while Loren carried the laptop and a bigger bag of collection and indexing gear. Annabelle bopped along with her big Nikon bouncing off her bosom. "It's so beautiful," she said wistfully.
You think it might be nice of you to carry one of these for me? came Nora's sarcasm again. She sputtered. Fat chance.
Various types of palm trees formed a maze before them. Nora didn't walk ten feet before she noticed three different kinds of geckos, two kinds of parrots, and a squawking gull-billed tern. Just as they entered the trail, a sedate marsh extended, mangrove roots jutting upward like weird plumbing. Clumps of water locus seemed to shiver as they passed; owls looked down at them from high nests in cabbage palms. A minute ago they'd been baking in the sun, but now the woods seemed to draw them into a labyrinthine coolness. Nora oddly felt as though she were traversing worlds.
KEEP our! a red-lettered sign warned. THIS IS A U.S. ARMY RESERVATION AND IS UNDER SURVEILLANCETRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED ACCORDING TO THE CIVILIAN STATUES OF THE UNIFORMED CODE OF MILITARY JUSTICE AND ALSO FLORIDA STATE LAW.
"That's what I call a welcome," Loren joked.
"You've got surveillance cameras out here?" Nora asked.
"Not anymore," Trent said, bored as he strode forward. "The sign's all bark and no bite, but it usually does the job."
"A heyday of regional flora and fauna," Loren commented next. A marsh rabbit shot away through brush at their approach. Swamp lilies and wild purple petunias bobbed their heads, and Spanish moss hung like mop heads off low branches.
"There are also leatherback turtles, peregrine falcons, and big-eared bats."
"I'll have to get pictures of those," Annabelle assured them.
"Hate to tell you," Trent went on, "but most of the wildlife out here is so unused to human contact, you'll never see them."
"What about alligators?" Annabelle asked next.
"There