At last they reached a suitable rest point just a few hundred feet before the stream veered around a huge fallen boulder. A small beach of black sand curved in a crescent at the base of the rock wall. They all stood up in the waist-deep water, stepped out of the rope loops and struggled up the bank on cold stiff legs. Though they were shivering the team was in good spirits and looking forward to some rest, and perhaps some more chocolate. Takeda immediately took to lighting a miniature propane heating unit. Each of the HAWCs carried them; they could be used for emergency lighting, as an incendiary device, or in Takeda’s case, a way to heat his precious green tea. Alex allowed the small break in the rules as Takeda was the most serene and efficient warrior he had ever come across; if the tea helped, then he could have it.

Aimee was the first to notice the changes in Mike. He was bent over and his robust frame was smaller and seemed somehow shrunken. Where the rope had previously been looped tight around his lean muscular body, his waist had not yet snapped back into place. He looked deformed, soft.

“Mike? Mike, are you OK?” Aimee grabbed his arm and turned him around.

On hearing Aimee raise her voice, Alex rushed over to where Mike stood unsteadily on his feet. In the harsh light of Aimee’s torch his face was slack and looked like wax. Alex stared into Mike’s eyes and asked, “Second Lieutenant Mike Lennox, what is your immediate operational status?”—a command any of the HAWCs would have instantly responded to.

Mike coughed and fell forward. Alex caught him and lowered him to the ground, turning him over onto his back. Mike’s body was different—he felt lighter and less substantial. Mike coughed again, then again harder. This time some redness appeared on his lips. The team gathered around and bathed Mike’s prone body in the combined light of multiple helmet beams.

“He’s bleeding internally.” Alex rolled him onto his side to assist his breathing and this time Mike began coughing continuously. Blood spots appeared on the black sand, and then with the next racking cough a rush of a red gelatinous fluid gushed from his mouth to pile on the sand next to him.

“Oh shit, there’s something living in him.” Silex jumped back; there was no scientific curiosity, just a base human reaction to a severe parasitic infection. The disgust was clear on his face as he unconsciously began wiping his hands on his sides. Silex was right, among the piles of jelly beside Mike’s face there was a mass of worms, each about six inches long, writhing on the sand. The black and red mess had undoubtedly come from the flesh and blood the worms had been consuming from inside Mike.