Slither - Edward Lee [8]
"A southern dogface butterfly," Loren said. "Colias cesonia, at least I think it is."
"But I'm sure Professor Craig knows for sure." Annabelle glanced over her shoulder to Nora. "She is the professor, right?"
Nora ground her teeth at the blonde. "It looks like, well, let me see, like a fucking yellow butterfly, Annabelle. And beyond that I wouldn't know because I'm a specialist in segmented marine worms, not fucking butterflies."
Annabelle grinned at her jab, then complimented Loren, "You're really a smart guy, Loren."
I do not believe this bitch, Nora thought.
"Well, I could be wrong," Loren deflected. "There are thousands of different species of butterflies from six different families."
"How many different kinds of worms are there?"
"Oh, tens of thousands-"
"And fifty-four hundred Polychaetes alone," Nora struggled to contribute, "but it's estimated that there may still be hundreds more that haven't been discovered yet."
Annabelle wasn't listening anymore, lapsing instead into less specific chatter with Loren.
"I did my OCS bivouac training out here," Trent commented. "Had to live on this island for two weeks. Here's where we camped." He'd taken them to another clearing that caught a welcome breeze. "There's plenty of room in the center if we feel like having a campfire."
"Sounds like fun," Annabelle said. "I should've brought marshmallows."
Nora groaned.
Trent pointed up to a tree. "And there's something else we can roast, for any of you who feel adventurous."
Annabelle squealed and began snapping pictures. Lounging on a branch was a long, scaly iguana.
"That's pretty much all I lived on during my survival training."
"Tastes like chicken?" Loren asked.
"Nope. Tastes like ... crap."
Loren stepped closer to the trees. "Well now, what have we here?" A tall spiky plant was growing out of a patch of sawgrass. "A nettle plant from the Canna- baceae order, more specifically Cannabis sativa, I do believe."
"What?" Nora said.
Annabelle squinted. "You mean-"
"A great big pot plant," Loren said of the blooming, six-foot-tall specimen.
"What's a great big pot plant doing on a tropical island?" Nora asked.
Trent walked up to it. If that's not the damnedest thing ..."
"I don't know much about marijuana," Nora offered, "but I'm pretty sure it's not indigenous to tropical environments."
"It's not," Loren said. He looked to Trent. "But, Lieutenant, didn't you tell us earlier that kids sneak out to the island a lot to party?"
"Not a lot. More like once in a blue moon, when they're lucky enough to have the tides just right. But, yeah, they do get out here every so often."
"Mystery solved. Some kid was rolling a doobie and a seed fell out. By the looks of this plant, it's been growing for some time." Loren grinned, eyeing the others. "Hey, I won't tell if you all won't."
"Sorry, Easy Rider, but no one's touching the plant," Trent said. "I'll have to report this. Christ, that would look great in the papers, wouldn't it? Marijuana farm on army property. The damn air force would have a field day."
"Shucks," Loren laughed.
"I've never smoked pot in my life," Annabelle said. She giggled. "I'm too afraid of the munchies. That would ruin my body."
Nora wanted to gag.
Trent shook his head at the tall plant. "Well, it'll give me something to do while you guys are worm-hunting. I'll have to look around to see if any more of these things are growing here."
They headed back. What's wrong with me? Nora wondered. She knew she was letting herself become aggravated by Annabelle; she also knew it was a juvenile and unsophisticated emotion. Then I guess I'm juvenile and unsophisticated! she finally unloaded on herself, still forced to walk behind the photographer and be reminded that she was purely and simply more attractive than Nora.
Floozy. Thinks she's hot shit with her big boobs and designer bikini. The more Nora tried to let it go, the more she realized she couldn't. Back at the landing pad, the crew had off-loaded all the supplies. The peninsular-jawed warrant officer announced to Trent, "I guess