Runaway World

Death's Door

     Andrew was awoken by the sound of the autopilot beeping at him, getting steadily louder and more insistent as he failed to respond. "Attention. We have arrived at our destination. Attention. We have arrived at our destination."

     David's face was close beside his, close enough for him to be able to smell the sickly sweet scent of the boy's breath. He could also feel the heat radiating from his red, flushed skin. His fever had intensified. He would need more of the acetaminophen if his small body wasn't to literally cook itself. Or maybe an ice bath. At least he's still alive, Andrew told himself. He couldn't imagine how he'd have reacted if he'd found that the boy had died while he'd been asleep beside him.

     James and Jasmine had also survived the night, but Susan had gone. Andrew summoned the strength to climb off David's bed and back to his feet and went off to find her. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. He waited for it to pass, then staggered towards the door.

     "Daddy," said Jasmine as he passed her bed. She turned her head to look at him, strands of hair plastered to her face by perspiration. Andrew sat on the edge of her bed, glad to take the weight off his feet even though he'd only taken a couple of steps.

     "How do you feel?" he asked. He stroked her hair and felt waves of heat coming off her. She was scarcely in better shape than David.

     "I'm sorry, daddy," said the girl, tears appearing in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

     "Jas, I've told you again and again, this isn't your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself." The girl had fallen asleep again, though, or perhaps lost consciousness. Andrew stroked her hair again and went in search of Susan.

     She wasn't in the upper level so he climbed down the ladder to the lower level. Getting down was a lot easier than getting up had been, but before he was half way down he suddenly wondered whether he was wise to be descending. He'd barely made it up the ladder the evening before. Now, he was sicker and weaker than he'd been then. Would he be able to return to his children? He would, he told himself. Somehow, he would find the strength. He tried to convince himself of it as he continued to descend.

     He found Susan in the kitchen, sorting through the cupboard containing their medical supplies. She looked terrible. Her face was red and inflamed, deepening the lines around her eyes. She was shivering and gasping for breath, leaning against the kitchen table for support. She looked at him with eyes that were sagging and bloodshot. "The children...?"

     "Asleep," Andrew replied. He knew what she'd really been asking, but he hadn't been able to say still alive. The phrase carried the implications that that state could change at any time. Asleep was a safe thing to say, though. Sleep was normal.

     Susan nodded, correctly recognising the unspoken implications of his reply. "Come get your medication," she said, pointing to the bottle of acetaminophen. "Let's see if we can get your fever down."

     "Have you had some?"

     "Yes. Have to keep myself as well as possible so I can look after the children."

     Andrew took the pill she handed him and swallowed it with a glass of water. "The autopilot says we've arrived at New Philly," he said.

     "Yes, I heard it," Susan replied. "Andy, I don't... I don't know how much time the children have. I don't think they've got long." She staggered across to him and fell into his arms. She shook and trembled as he held her. She spoke into his shoulder. "If you go in alone, the time it takes to bring the antibiotics back out here..."

     Andrew nodded his agreement. "We all go in together," he said. "If we get a hostile reception, well, we're dead anyway."

     "Then we have to be fast," Susan said. "We can't waste any time."