Island Rush (60 page)

Then, the memory and dream disappeared.  I woke up, cool tears in my eyes.  I was able to remember with complete clarity the fun nights we spent as a family.  I wish I didn’t.  I wish I didn’t have dreams like that to remind me of how wonderful of a family I use to have.  It was a great memory, but it hurt.  To know those memories, those events took place, it bothered me even more. 

It doesn’t matter why dad and Alex did what they did.  They did it, end of story.  I just wish I knew how they could have done that.  How my family could go from that to the hell, I was living since my mom died… I still didn’t get it.  I still didn’t have answers.  To have a dream like that made me want all those answers and justice.

Sighing, I wiped the tears away I hadn’t noticed had fallen during sleep.  Maybe that was what caused me to wake up.  Maybe it was the dream itself.  But I realized what it was once I heard something.  It sounded like coughing, but more violent than normal.  A gasping, a gagging sound….

I whipped my head around towards where Casey should be, and he was gone.  In his place was his shirt and pants he wore going to bed.  That meant he was only in boxers, and it was the middle of the night.  My heart began pounding.  I rushed out of the bed without another thought.

Stepping onto the cold ground of dew, the fire nearly gone now, my eyes scanned over the area.  The moonlight helped as I headed towards the creek, which is where I heard that sickening noise.  Walking along the lake, I stopped in place as I saw him.  He was lying on the bank, stomach down with his head hanging over the side and above the creek.  I moved towards the bend and when I got there, I looked closer.

He was lying right there, breathing hard.  His bare skin was against the cold ground covered in sweat.  I realized what had happened.  He was throwing up in the creek.  Now, though, nothing else seemed to be coming up as he rested his head against the edge of the bank.

I collapsed on my knees beside him.  “I’m here,” I stroked his hair back from where it was hanging around him.  As I did that, he tilted his head towards mine.  The moonlight caught his face, making him more visible to me. 

I felt my own mouth drop open at how he looked.  It made my stomach turn to see he was most definitely not okay.  His skin was more than pale.  It was a hint of green.  What surprised me even more was that he somehow looked a little older!  Maybe it was because of the lines under his eyes.  Maybe it was his eyes in general.  They seemed to have reflected more seriousness because this made it official.  This was no longer a situation crowded with ‘maybes’ and ‘chances’.  This was happening. 

He whipped his head back towards the creek and threw up again.  Threw up all the food that was important for us to have.  I grabbed his hair, holding it back as he continued puking in the stream for who knows how long.  He told me I could go back to bed and that he was fine.  I’m sure he was somewhat embarrassed I was witnessing this and holding his hair back.  But that wasn’t my problem with all of this.  I was more than happy to help him, to hold his hair back.  My problem, Casey’s problem, our problem… was that he wasn’t getting any better.  He was getting worse.

Chapter 61

I was trying as hard as I could to hold it together. It was more than a little hard considering I was watching him become weaker by the minute right before my eyes. I was holding his hair back, the sickening noise burning my ears.

I wasn’t sure how long I was kneeling there with him. I just knew it was long enough that everything in his stomach was out. At that point, he was violently throwing up a small amount of water and air. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any other choice other to hold his hair back and gently rub his back, helping him and making him at least know I was here with him.

When he stopped, he moved back a few inches from where he had his head hanging over the bank. Resting his warm cheek against the cold dew, he breathed hard, eyes closed and just catching his breath. The moon on my side tonight, I was able to see him well. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing considering the sight of him made my heart sore.

I moved a few feet away from him before lying down with him. Besides his terrible breath, I didn’t want to be too close to him because of how warm he was.  Though there were a couple feet separating us, I saw his hand slid through the grass and clasp mine.

We laid there silently for a minute or so more, waiting to see if he needed to vomit again.  Though there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, it didn’t mean he was better.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, getting to my feet a moment later, knowing I couldn’t lay there another minute, watching the sweat drip off him when he should be shivering as I was.

I grabbed a small piece of torn clothing and walked to the lake that was a couple feet away.  I dunked the cloth with the cold water before wringing it out, making it damp. Taking a deep breath, forcing all the shouting thoughts in my head aside, I tried to get a hold of myself.

I nearly convinced myself that this was a dream and that we were still sleeping. But this wasn’t a dream. This couldn’t be because if it were a dream, everything wouldn’t be highlighted in such detail.  Not to mention, this happening seemed to be our luck.  It was too real.

Now that I was thinking about it, it was very realistic that this would happen.  Ever since we got here, we just keep getting hurt. When one injury is healed, one of us gets hurt again it seems. I really shouldn’t be surprised, but what did we do to deserve this?

With a shaky sigh, I walked back to where he was lying on the bank, the moonlight reflecting his sweaty, exposed back. I knelt next to him, gently moving the cloth to his forehead, pushing his sticky bangs back. I didn’t realize he was sweating so badly so I leaned over him, pushing the rag into the stream and soaking it this time.  Dripping along the way, I pressed it to his forehead, the drops sliding down his face and wetting his hot cheeks and neck.  I ran the cloth all the way back through his hair. Doing that several times until all his hair was wet and out of his face, I moved the rag around his neck and back.

“How does this feel?”

He nodded, opening his eyes. “It feels good,” he said simply in a quiet voice, his expression tired and defeated.  He looked as if he was ready to just pass out right then and there.

I took his hand in mine again, my other still working the cloth over his skin, sliding it to his lower back before moving quickly to his legs. Wasting no water in the cloth, I rub it out and over him. I prayed every drop would help and keep him cool. It was unbelievable that he was sweating right now. It was the middle of the chilly night when I was freezing! I didn’t even want to think what it was going to be like for him tomorrow under that deadly sun.

“How long have you been up for?”

“Before you got here, maybe half an hour.”

A half hour added to the time that I was here to help him…  That means he has probably been in this state for maybe an hour. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my breath even. I couldn’t have a breakdown; not now when he is suffering. I had nothing to whine about when he was the one that was sick. I needed to pull myself together.

“Please… don’t worry,” he said, probably after seeing my face.

I wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t fine, and I had to worry! That he couldn’t protect me from the truth.  Even more, he couldn’t protect himself from it!  He needed to understand what was happening. It hurt at the same time.  I didn’t even like him dealing with that cut!  This was so much worse.

“You should have woke me when you first started throwing up,” I said quietly.

“I didn’t want you —”

“You didn’t want me to worry. Yeah, I know! Does that change the fact that this is happening? No, it doesn’t!” I snapped.

He groaned.  “Look, I didn’t want you getting worked up or upset over something that will pass in a day or so. I don’t want you to worry about some small sickness that will go away.”

Sighing, I nodded.  “Yeah, I know, but it’s happening. And though we don’t want to admit it… it’s more than just getting sick for a few days. You were bitten by a rat,” I said, forcing out how serious I knew that could be.

He didn’t say anything. He continued resting his head against the cool grass.  Then, his hand in mine tightened slightly, and his eyes grew.  I saw his skin pale even clearer than before. With the rapid change in his body language, a rapid change of actions occurred after that.

Lifting his head, he leaned forward more until his face was no longer hovering over the grass.  The second after his mouth was above the water of the flowing creek, his body reacted violently.  Casey’s lips parted, a terrible noise leaving him as he tried vomiting again.

Since his hair was already damp with water and out of his face, all I could do was rub his back in comfort. He still was holding my hand, his fingers squeezing in mine as I heard the splashing sound of water hitting the water.  All that was coming up was just more water.  Only a small amount too since a lot of that time was spent just breathing hard and attempting to throw something up.

In the moonlight, I saw his body tense, his back arching with the strangled sound coming from his lips. I felt my heart collapsing, my eyes burning with the sight. It would be better if he at least were properly vomiting. But he wasn’t throwing anything up anymore!  Just some water and a horrible gagging noise. It was killing off hope in me, though it hasn’t even been a full day yet.

Grasping his weak hand in mine, he squeezed back every time his head slumped forward, and he made that gagging noise again.  I felt my eyes water, but that was all that I would allow. Casey was the one suffering, not me. I had to pull it together, be here for him and show him I was okay. He needed to see I was fine so he wouldn’t worry about me.

His gasps and empty vomiting finally ended, and he moved back a foot or so until he was over the grass again.  In a tired and drained voice, he spoke. “Please don’t worry.”

I looked away from him, his gaze on something far away anyway.  I felt my chin quiver, and my heart grew a lump. Out of everything, he just wanted to know I was okay.  That I wasn’t stressing over anything. And that was the saddest thing out of everything. That he didn’t care about his health before he cared for how I was. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.

I grasped his hand harder and looked back to his defeated body.  “I know. I’m not worried,” I said with as much hope as I could pack into those words.  “Like you said, it will probably pass.”

Looking at him, I didn’t know if he heard me. There was no reaction to my words, no energy left to react. Sighing, I grazed my nails lightly up and down his back, silently waiting.  After about fifteen minutes lying there in the grass on the bank, he didn’t get sick and throw up again after that.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said, wincing at the taste in his mouth.

I nodded, shifting towards the edge of the bank more, leaning down.  I cupped my hands together. “Here,” I said as I filled my hands full of water, raising it up to his chin. “Rinse your mouth out.”

He leaned his head forward and down, dipping his lips in my hand and sucking the small puddle of water in. He swished it around in his mouth, spitting out the burning taste of acid. I offered him more water again to rinse a few more times before he swallowed the last bit of water, drinking it down.

As I washed my hands off in the creek, I watched as he cautiously stood, still unsure of how his stomach would react to movement. On his feet, I saw his eyes go wide.  I instantly feared it was happening again. But all he did was slightly sway on his feet, eyes blinking.

I quickly got to my feet, going to his side swiftly.  I wrapped an arm around his back, ready to support him if he needed it. “Do you need to throw up again?”

He shook his head. “I’m just a little dizzy.”

His eyes shifted down to meet mine, his hand lightly raising up and brushing my cheek as we stood there.  His eyelids drooped, body still sweating a little.  At least I could see his hair and skin were damp in the moonlight. His fingertips were warm against my cold skin, his eyes digging in mine.

Those eyes… they were begging me. Begging for me to not worry and for this situation to stop.  Those eyes nearly broke me then and there, pleading for anything and everything, because he knew the truth. We both were realizing it but didn’t want to admit it.  The last time I said anything, he denied it. Denied being sick because that was the last thing we wanted.  At this point, it was getting hard for me to deny that this was much worse than him getting sick.

I averted my eyes, knowing I would break sooner than I wanted if he kept looking at me like that.  There was no question if it was going to happen. When I break down, I had to make sure it wouldn’t be in front of him. Taking a deep breath, I met his eyes again, preparing myself for their attack on my soul.

His thumb brushed over my cheek more. “I think I know why I’m sick.”

I internally sighed. “Why?”

“The berries. They tasted different remember?”

I nodded, understanding how he could think that. But there was one obvious thing that eliminated that. We both ate the berries, and I wasn’t sick.  He was just making an excuse to show me I was overreacting and that it would go away soon. I knew he wanted something to allow us to not worry. 

I nodded.  “Yeah, that might be it,” I smiled slightly, trying to convince him I believed his words.

He smiled. “See? I’m going to be fine. Just give it a day or so more.”

He confirmed that I was right about what he said being an excuse.  He took my hand, turning away from me and heading back to the shelter. I saw his smile falter before his lips were out of sight. Not only did it falter, I saw the sad, dead, and worried look on his face.

We got back into our bed. I suggested to Casey that he sleep on the back of the shelter.  The sun wouldn’t shine that far back when daylight comes.

We fell asleep quickly after that.  I didn’t dream anymore that night or wake up from Casey’s vomiting. I woke with the sun shining bright, warming the Earth with its hot rays. The usual peaceful sounds entered my ears. The calls of birds, the crashing waterfall, the trickle of the creek…

Of course, my brain had to ruin it when I remembered why today wouldn’t be so pleasant. Last night filtered back into my mind and with it, I sighed.  I felt my heart sinking slowly at recognizing once more that this wasn’t going well.  It hurt even more at seeing proof that it would continue getting worse.

Groaning, I turned to my side and opened my eyes, looking towards the back of the shelter. My eyes falling on Casey, I gasped.

His lips were parted as he was lying on his back, breathing hard with his chest moving deep. Though he was in the shade, away from the sun, it didn’t keep the sweat away. In fact, he had to be covered in more sweat than I ever saw before - and he was still sleeping!  Sweat lined his eyebrows, his prickly hair on his chin and cheeks. His hair was damp, but I don’t think it was from the water I spread over him last light.

I moved slowly to him, moving a hand over his chest. It became clear to me, his chest hair was damp and so was his stomach, sweat swimming all over him.  We both sweated terribly before, but that was when we were actually working under the sun. He was in the shade, sleeping with only boxers on. Although a light breeze swept through the shelter, it didn’t make anything seem better given how badly he looked.

I stared, shocked as my eyes continued to take him in. His skin seemed much paler than I thought it was before. Of course, that wasn’t all as I soon discovered. Casey’s hand was in mine, and when I moved, moving his hand, I froze.  My heart began to crack more at the sight. A few tears fell, but I held my sob in as I stared at his arm.

His skin was pale, very pale. All except for where the rat sunk its teeth into Casey.

I raised his arms closer to me, getting a better look. The skin around the bite was red and puffy.  It also looked infected, which made my jaw tighten.  I, at least, had some hope the medicine and ointment would have helped, but I guess not.  I ran a thumb over the bite and felt a whimper surface from my throat at the feeling, the sight of it. It was bad, awful looking, the area covering a few inches along his arm.

I bit my lip, keeping it from quivering as I looked away. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to take care of this, how to take care of him!  How to heal him! Oh god! I wanted to cry and cry and cry right now. I wanted to scream! Why? Why? Why?! Why us? Haven’t we been through enough? Don’t we deserve a fucking break? After everything… after all our work, all our effort, all the love that grew between us and in us… this was going to end it all. This was going to be what takes us down. This was it. A damn rat!