Chapter 49
Three days have passed since the incident with the jaguar, and we haven’t seen it around our camp. Unfortunately, I’ll have to kill her if we do. She was a beautiful creature, but I won’t risk Ellie. She was protecting her baby, and I’ll protect mine.
My wound is healing pretty quickly, and the smaller cuts have already scabbed over.
Surprisingly, it hurts worse today than it did that first day.
The pain almost tempts me to take Tylenol, but I won’t.
There may come a time when Ellie needs it, and I’ll never take something from her that she needs.
“I’m going to head to the river to fish, are you going to stay here?” I ask, expecting her to want to come with me.
“I think I’m going to head to the beach and search for clams. I know the bonfire is going to need wood too. We haven’t tended to it in days.”
I hesitate, worried about her taking such a long trip alone. It feels like we are back at square one, back when we were ill-prepared for the dangers of the jungle. “I’ll go with you. I can fish later.”
“Baby, we can’t live like this. There is too much work to do every day for you to be afraid to leave me on my own,” she argues.
I blow out a breath. “Okay, no, you’re right. Just be careful.”
She walks over to me, standing on her toes to give me a kiss. Her hands brush past my wound and I hiss, the pain almost unbearable.
“Oh…shoot, shoot. I’m sorry!” she squeaks, her face full of concern. She tilts her head, assessing my reaction. “Let me see it. You’re due for a dressing change anyway.”
I nod, removing my shirt and sitting down so she can reach the top of the dressing. She starts peeling the tape away from my skin, and it feels like a thousand pinpricks stabbing at the center of the laceration. I groan, the pain excruciating.
“This hurts?” she asks, perplexed.
“Little bit.” I grunt, attempting to hide the true intensity of my pain. The deep center of the cut pulses under my skin. Removing the tape triggers a throbbing sensation that stretches across my entire back. Her gentle whisper of a touch feels like the lash of a whip.
It nearly takes a decade for her to unwrap the dressing. When she finally gets a good look at the injury, she emits a tiny gasp.
“Give it to me straight, Doc,” I joke. “What are my chances?”
“Does this hurt?” She probes, lightly brushing across my back. I nearly jump out of my skin. “Nate, I’m touching your lower back,” she whispers, alarmed. Considering she is far away from my wound, I would say that warrants concern.
She examines my back for the next several minutes before she begins cleaning the area.
The sting from the antiseptic is mild compared to the deep ache.
She moves around to the front of me, feeling my forehead and running her fingers along my neck, palpating the skin, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Baby, it’s infected. It’s really, really infected.
There is a five-inch margin of erythema outside the circumference of the wound.
It’s warm to the touch, and the edema has increased significantly since yesterday.
Thankfully, there isn’t any drainage, but there’s a strong odor that has me really concerned.
Especially considering the scabs from yesterday are encased in a yellow crust.”
“I don’t know what any of that means, Pip.” I laugh, trying to put the light back in her eyes.
“Any chills?” she asks, ignoring my statement.
“No, baby. It’s fine. Just a little sore.”
“You’re not fine, Nate. You need to stay here and heal without sweat dripping down your back.
If that infection gets any worse, it will infect your blood.
You’ll become septic. That’s really serious, Nate.
You would need intravenous antibiotics, we can’t treat that here.
” Her eyes fill with tears, envisioning something that hasn’t even happened.
It won’t happen. I refuse to leave her over a little scratch.
“Then stay home with me.” I wink suggestively.
She sighs, exasperated. “I need to go look for cordoncillo.”
“And that is?” I ask, raising a brow.
“It’s a plant. Natives to this area would use it to disinfect deep wounds and reduce inflammation. We don’t have access to antibiotics here, but lucky for us, we are living in the middle of the world’s largest pharmacy,” she says, grabbing her basket. “Promise me you’ll stay here?”
“Promise.” I pull her toward me, giving her a lingering kiss. “Be careful.”
“I will.” She sighs against my lips. She’s trying to be strong, but I can tell how worried she is. Maybe I should be more worried. But I can’t imagine a God, fate, or destiny that would give me Ellie back, just to rip her away because I got grazed by a cat.
I pull her against me, holding her tight, hiding the way that I’m using her body to keep me upright.
“Hey, baby.” I click my tongue. “Don’t worry.
I’m going to be okay. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’ve got an immune system made of steel.
My body is going to fight this shit off soon.
” I wink, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
I feel a little dizzy with the movement, but keep my smile wide. “I love you, Pip.”
“Love you, too,” she says, giving me another quick peck. She looks me over again before heading out the door.
As soon as she is out of my line of sight, I stumble back toward our bed, dropping onto it with a loud thud.
This extreme fatigue came out of nowhere, but I didn’t want to give Ellie any more reason to be worried.
I pull the blanket over my body and settle down for a short nap.
I’ll get some things done around here when I wake up.
When I open my eyes, the shelter is pitch black.
It must be getting dark outside, and I haven’t fed the fire in a while.
I roll out of bed, sauntering over toward the fire pit.
I rub my hands up and down my arms, suddenly freezing.
My bare feet feel frozen against the shelter floor, like I’m walking outside in the dead of winter.
My head is throbbing at my temples, making me feel nauseous.
My body feels weak, drained, like the day after an intense workout. I’m shivering so hard my teeth rattle.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I sit cross-legged over by our little stove and add our stockpile of branches, sticks, and leaves to the pit.
I put my hands in front of the flames trying to warm this bone-deep chill.
The movement stretches the muscles in my shoulder, and I am overcome with complete agony.
Searing pain whips down my back, and I fall forward, letting out a loud cry as anguish consumes me.
I lower my body to the floor, lying down beside the fire.
I just need to stay here for a minute. Just a minute. Then I will go find Ellie. She should be back by now. She wouldn’t stay out this late without me. The thought causes me extreme panic.
She could be hurt somewhere.
I start crawling toward the door, nearly dragging my legs behind me. I reach the entrance a few seconds later and push it open. I try to pull myself up, but I’m so weak I can’t even make it to my knees. I drag my body over the threshold, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
Chills rack my body. It’s freezing outside, the warmth of the fire is too far to reach me now.
Why is it so cold?
It’s never been this cold here before.
I pull myself forward onto the muddy terrain.
I call out Ellie’s name, but my voice isn’t working right.
It feels like a chore to talk and breathe at the same time.
My breaths are coming in heavy pants, and my heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. I keep inching forward though, she might be scared. I hate when my girl feels scared.
I decide to crawl toward the path that leads to the beach. She loves the warm glow of the sunset so much, I bet she stopped to watch it. She probably lost track of time and got distracted by that orangish-pink sky she adores. I’ll find her. Even if I have to crawl the whole way. I’ll find her.
I make it over to the tree that sits to the left of our shelter. The squawking toucan is no longer there. Her eggs left behind without the warmth of their mother. That tugs at my heart. Nothing should have to live out here alone.
Fuck. It’s so goddamn cold.
What if Ellie is cold?
I need to get to her. I continue to crawl toward the path, nearly making it before everything goes black.
Drip… Drip… Drip…
Tiny, warm drops of water land on my arm. I must still be lying outside in the rain, but somehow, I feel really warm. The chills from earlier have subsided. I try to open my eyes, but they feel glued shut.
Drip… Drip… Drip…
I hear the fire crackle next to me.
No.
Wait.
That can’t be right. I should be outside right now. I was trying to find Ellie.
Ellie.
Panic surges through me, lifting the fog.
My senses become overwhelmed with her scent. She’s here. My baby is here.
Drip… Drip…
I open my eyes and scan my surroundings. I’m inside our shelter. The fire burns hot beside me.
Drip.
I look up and see Ellie above me, my head lying in her lap. Her tears drip down her cheeks and onto my arms.
My girl. She’s okay.
Thank God.
“Don’t cry, gorgeous.” I give her a weak smile, startling her with my sudden alertness.
“Nate,” she breathes, relieved to see me awake. Her eyes look at me with such sorrow it makes my heart clench. “Let me see that smile, Pip. The one you only give to me,” I whisper.
She tries. She tries so damn hard to smile. But her face scrunches up as she struggles to fight her tears.
“You’re going to be okay, Nate.” She hiccups, trying so hard to put on a happy face.
“Of course I am, baby,” I lie. “What’s that smell?”
“I made a paste out of cordoncillo leaves and put it on your wound.” She sniffles. “How is your pain?”
“It feels a lot better, actually.” I’m not lying. I don’t feel the wound at all. It’s all the other things that don’t feel so great.
“I was trying to find baccharis. It treats a lot of broad-spectrum bacteria. I just…I couldn’t find any,” she says, frustrated. “I don’t know if we are even in that part of the world. I just…I need to find something stronger.” She sniffles again.
“You’re doing so great, Pip. I’m already feeling a lot better. Pretty lucky I got stranded on an island with a hot nurse,” I joke, my voice getting weaker as I fight the need to sleep.
She lets out a wet laugh, her face twisting from laughter to raw, unfiltered pain. My baby is hurting, and it’s all my fault.
I reach up, taking a strand of her beautiful auburn hair between my fingers.
“I missed this the most, you know.” I take a deep, stuttering breath.
“Playing with your hair as you fell asleep. I missed it every night for eight years. I’m so happy I got almost twelve…
months of holding you…when you sleep.” My words filter in and out as my eyes blink heavily.
I’m not doing well.
We both know it.
“Please stay awake,” she begs through her tears. Her muffled voice is breaking my heart. “I have a tawari stew cooking, and I want you to have some. It will help your infection. You’ll get better…in no…time,” she gasps between her words as sobs rack her body.
“Okay, love. I’ll stay awake.”
A few seconds later, the world goes dark once again.