the tendons of her neck were tight. He didn’t need to touch her forehead.
“This is a fever. Has she ever had one before?”
“Not like this. The arthritis sometimes sends her temperature up and her joints get hot and inflamed but this is different.”
“How long has she been like this?”
“When we went to sleep she was fine. I woke up because her heels were drumming the floor.”
A surge of guilt hit Gordon.
“You don’t think it was the fish, do you?”
Denise shook her head.
“I thought about that but you and I are fine. This is something else.”
Gordon watched the rigors shake Flora’s tiny, bent frame. The lids of her eyes rippled as the orbs swivelled beneath them. Once again, the Black Light expanded from the core of him to pulse behind the skin of his fingertips.
No, he thought. I mustn’t. All it ever brings is trouble.
He pressed his hands together, forced the living darkness back inside himself, shut it off. His stomach bulged and clenched with sickness. He chewed the nausea back, held it down.
And yet, there had to be something he could do.
“We have to cool her off, Denise.”
“But she’s shivering. Look at her. It’s like she’s freezing to death.”
“Her temperature’s sky-high and we’ve got to get it down. Fast. Take the bedclothes away and get her pyjamas off.”
Denise didn’t move.
“We have to do this.”
“OK. Alright.”
Denise shouldered him out of the way and stripped Flora of blankets and clothes. Gordon saw how crippling her arthritis was. Her knees, ankles and elbows were swollen and red her feet and hands already misshapen by the changes the disease had wrought inside her. Her skin was thin and waxen. Below it her veins and capillaries were visible. The bones of her pelvis jutted and her stomach was concave. Her whole body shuddered with fever.
Gordon sighed inwardly. I could make all this go away, he thought. The fever; all of it. But I don’t know these people. I can’t trust them. Not yet.
“Have you got some water?” he asked.
“Some. Not much.”
“You need to wet a towel or blanket and cover her with it. The dampness will draw the heat out of her skin. It should bring her core temperature down too.”
“I thought you said you weren’t a doctor.”
“I’ve been around a lot of sickness since I started travelling. And I had a fever like this once.”
Gordon sat and stroked Flora’s hair while Denise poured water onto an old towel, trying to soak as much of it as she could. Gordon helped her lay the towel over her daughter’s trembling form. Flora sucked in a hiss of breath at the cold contact and Denise flinched, not allowing her end of the towel rest on Flora’s body.
“Please, Denise. You have to do this.”
Denise draped the towel down as softly as she could, not softly enough to prevent Flora from crying out at the touch of it.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” She put her face in her hands for a few moments, then wiped away her tears and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “OK. What do we do now?”
“We wait,” said Gordon. “That’s all we can do.”
After an hour or so, her shivering had lessened and Gordon was sure the fever had receded. Heartened by this and obviously exhausted by the worry, Denise sat back against a cushion and allowed her eyes to close. Gordon checked Flora several more times, noting the heat in her skin much reduced. He too made himself a little more comfortable and soon his eyelids drooped.
They both woke at the same time to the sound of choking.
Gordon sprang across the attic space colliding with Denise and knocking her onto her side. He was first to reach Flora. In her flailing, she had thrown off her towel and it lay in a dry, stiff mould beside her. Gordon recoiled when he touched her head. The heat was too intense, more than a human body could sustain. His hands froze in response, Black Light surging in painful beads from his fingertips and palms ready to do its work.
OK, he thought.
“This is a fever. Has she ever had one before?”
“Not like this. The arthritis sometimes sends her temperature up and her joints get hot and inflamed but this is different.”
“How long has she been like this?”
“When we went to sleep she was fine. I woke up because her heels were drumming the floor.”
A surge of guilt hit Gordon.
“You don’t think it was the fish, do you?”
Denise shook her head.
“I thought about that but you and I are fine. This is something else.”
Gordon watched the rigors shake Flora’s tiny, bent frame. The lids of her eyes rippled as the orbs swivelled beneath them. Once again, the Black Light expanded from the core of him to pulse behind the skin of his fingertips.
No, he thought. I mustn’t. All it ever brings is trouble.
He pressed his hands together, forced the living darkness back inside himself, shut it off. His stomach bulged and clenched with sickness. He chewed the nausea back, held it down.
And yet, there had to be something he could do.
“We have to cool her off, Denise.”
“But she’s shivering. Look at her. It’s like she’s freezing to death.”
“Her temperature’s sky-high and we’ve got to get it down. Fast. Take the bedclothes away and get her pyjamas off.”
Denise didn’t move.
“We have to do this.”
“OK. Alright.”
Denise shouldered him out of the way and stripped Flora of blankets and clothes. Gordon saw how crippling her arthritis was. Her knees, ankles and elbows were swollen and red her feet and hands already misshapen by the changes the disease had wrought inside her. Her skin was thin and waxen. Below it her veins and capillaries were visible. The bones of her pelvis jutted and her stomach was concave. Her whole body shuddered with fever.
Gordon sighed inwardly. I could make all this go away, he thought. The fever; all of it. But I don’t know these people. I can’t trust them. Not yet.
“Have you got some water?” he asked.
“Some. Not much.”
“You need to wet a towel or blanket and cover her with it. The dampness will draw the heat out of her skin. It should bring her core temperature down too.”
“I thought you said you weren’t a doctor.”
“I’ve been around a lot of sickness since I started travelling. And I had a fever like this once.”
Gordon sat and stroked Flora’s hair while Denise poured water onto an old towel, trying to soak as much of it as she could. Gordon helped her lay the towel over her daughter’s trembling form. Flora sucked in a hiss of breath at the cold contact and Denise flinched, not allowing her end of the towel rest on Flora’s body.
“Please, Denise. You have to do this.”
Denise draped the towel down as softly as she could, not softly enough to prevent Flora from crying out at the touch of it.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” She put her face in her hands for a few moments, then wiped away her tears and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “OK. What do we do now?”
“We wait,” said Gordon. “That’s all we can do.”
After an hour or so, her shivering had lessened and Gordon was sure the fever had receded. Heartened by this and obviously exhausted by the worry, Denise sat back against a cushion and allowed her eyes to close. Gordon checked Flora several more times, noting the heat in her skin much reduced. He too made himself a little more comfortable and soon his eyelids drooped.
They both woke at the same time to the sound of choking.
Gordon sprang across the attic space colliding with Denise and knocking her onto her side. He was first to reach Flora. In her flailing, she had thrown off her towel and it lay in a dry, stiff mould beside her. Gordon recoiled when he touched her head. The heat was too intense, more than a human body could sustain. His hands froze in response, Black Light surging in painful beads from his fingertips and palms ready to do its work.
OK, he thought.
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