“Yes. Be careful with the roots. They’re the most toxic when they’re dried, but even fresh, they can give you one heck of a headache if a cutting touches your skin.”
She pulls on a pair of latex gloves before picking up the sample scissors and sterilizing them. “I remember.”
Kicking myself for not trusting her, I pop open one of the small vials and fill it with teaspoon of soil. “I should know better. You’ve never needed a reminder. About anything, really.”
She offers me a shy smile. “I love this work. I won’t screw it up.”
It takes us three hours. Li carefully excises root samples from six of the eighteen plants in this caldera, leaf cuttings from another six, and labels everything while I test the soil pH, collect rainwater from little pools all around the site, and download the temperature, humidity, wind, and rainfall data from the past four days.
The first week we were here, most of our time was consumed with setting up our equipment. The monitoring stations in the center of each grow site record fifty different pieces of data every hour of every day, but we’re in such a remote area, there’s no way to get a signal back to the lab. So all of our data has to be transferred manually. Tomorrow, we’re supposed to spend the day installing a relay so once we leave, we can continue to collect data.
By the time we return to the trailer, it’s well after 2:00 p.m., and my unease has risen to a truly unhealthy level. I hate that we couldn’t get out to Site One today, and I just know I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight—or enjoy my date with Austin—if I can’t find out whether someone’s been spraying. I saw no evidence of anything untoward at Site Four, but One is the largest, with a full twenty-seven plants.
I took a puff from my daily inhaler once we got here, and my chest no longer feels tight. If I carried the full sample kit by myself, the normally forty-five minute hike would probably take me an hour. Still, I could make it there and back before sunset.
“Li, I’m going to Site One.”
She looks up from the lab bench where she’s cataloging her samples and frowns. “No, Dr. Mik. It’s too dangerous. That climb…”
“I’ll be careful. Take it slow. The other day was a fluke.” It’s hard not to let my frustration show. Asthma doesn’t make me weak. Or vulnerable. “It’ll be worse if I have to go another day wondering if someone’s spraying up there. Trust me.”
Li’s warm brown eyes shine as she swallows hard. “Do you really think—?”
This research project will help her make a name for herself in the academic community, and she wants that more than anything. To prove to her family that she chose the right career. Her parents—like mine—wanted her to be a medical doctor.
“I don’t know.” It’s the easiest answer, though I don’t believe it. Still, I’d rather not dash her hopes until after I climb the rocky path to Site One and see for myself. Let her be innocent and optimistic for another few hours at least. Kneeling next to my pack, I check for my inhaler, then add the sample kit, a couple of granola bars, and a bottle of water. It’s been nice most of the day, but I still grab my poncho before clipping the GPS to my belt.
“I should be back in three hours. Lock the door, okay?” After I tighten the straps on the backpack, I force a smile. “Run the pesticide tests on all the samples we collected today while I’m gone, and as soon as I get back, we’ll do a quick assay on the ones from Site One. Then we’ll know for sure.”
Before I slip out the door, I glance back to see her chewing on her lower lip, her face drawn with worry. “Be careful, Dr. Mik,” she says quietly. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Halfway up the mountain,a light mist starts to cool my cheeks. Not long after, the wind picks up, and what had been a pleasant tickle of precipitation turns into sharp, wet needles stinging my skin.
At the old wooden bridge, I stop and try to shield my face from the rain as I scan the sky. I don’t like the look of those clouds, but as long as I’m quick, I’ll make it back over the river before it’s in any danger of flooding.
The climb gets slicker and more miserable with every step, and not even my poncho offers me much protection against the deluge. But I’ve come this far, and according to the GPS, I only have another tenth of a mile.
Head down. Keep moving. The trip back will be a heck of a lot faster. And easier.
My lungs are starting to protest, and the sky’s turned from light gray to a sickly mix of green and slate by the time I reach the crevasse leading to Site One. At least I’m not climbing anymore. A bolt of lightning arcs through the looming clouds, and the thunder obliterates all other sounds only a second later.
Crap. This is bad. Ducking through the narrow entrance to the private oasis filled with orchids, I slide my pack off my shoulder, unzip it, and freeze.
Three men are spread out around the basin, each with a large, black plastic tub next to them and spades in their hands.
Poachers. Oh God. My lungs start to seize, and I pick up my pack and try to back away quietly, to get out of here and far enough away to be able to stop and retrieve my inhaler, but the panic tightening my chest spreads up to my throat, and I start coughing and wheezing. The closest man, tall, with forest green coveralls and a black raincoat, turns and stares right at me.
“Fuck! Arturo!” he shouts and sprints for me.
I won’t be able to breathe in another minute, but the look in his eyes…I have to run. My legs give out after two steps, and I crash to the ground, clawing at the zipper on my pack until he hauls me up by the arms and starts to shake me.
“You should not be here, bitch!”
My whole world starts to darken and fade away until a familiar voice reaches my ears through the roaring of my heartbeat. “Let go of her!”
As I’m about to lose the battle for consciousness, a hand braces the back of my neck and something presses to my lips.
