by Sue Knott
Pete had been adamant that I not call an ambulance or otherwise try to get him to the hospital. He was off the grid. He intended to remain off the grid. And I wasn’t sure exactly what might happen to him – or to us – if they found out he was here illegally.
I did manage to identify a prescription antibiotic that might be of benefit. I also managed to find a condition that I could realistically complain about to get those antibiotics prescribed for me. I worried if Pete could last long enough for me to see a doctor, though. It was late at night. The island didn’t have a 24-hour clinic. I was afraid that if I went to the emergency room, they might try to admit me to the hospital instead of sending me home with the antibiotics.
Pete’s fever was creeping up over 104°.
“Can you walk?”
“Been walkin’ since I was a baby.” Pete’s speech was slow and slurred.
“Okay, then. Let’s go to the bathroom. You need to take a bath.” I slipped his arm around my shoulders and started to ease him out of bed.
“Do I stink? Sorry…want…smell nice for you.” His legs were buckling under his own weight. I let him drop back into bed and called for the girls. It took the three of us to drag Pete to the bathroom. I filled the tub with water and ice. It was really wrenching to watch him shiver so. But even soaking in the ice water barely kept his temperature at 103°.
In the morning, I left early so I’d be at the clinic the minute it opened. I gave the girls strict orders to keep adding ice to the bathtub and to monitor his temperature. If it stayed over 105° for more than 20 minutes, they were to call an ambulance. I hated leaving them with such a huge responsibility. But, I didn’t feel I had a choice.
Fortunately, the doctor prescribed the exact antibiotic I was hoping for. They had a supply right there at the clinic, so I was on my way back to the villa in under 45 minutes. Pete’s temp was still hovering between 103° and 104° when I gave him the pills. Within two hours, he was edging toward 102° and starting to become lucid.
“Holy crap, woman! Are you trying to give me pneumonia?”
“I thought you’d be easier to take on the rocks. Might cool that hot temper.”
I helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a big, fluffy beach towel.
“Why was I bathing in my boxers?”
“I didn’t want the girls to get any more of an education than absolutely necessary.”
“Girls? Oh, yeah…the twins.”
He was still weak and leaned heavily on me as I walked him to his bed. I was amazed at how some microscopic organism could render Pete’s huge muscles so useless. Did the bacteria have any sense it was harming its environment? Or was it just going about its business, living its life with no inkling that it was living inside – and destroying – another creature?
If we were inside some sort of Horton, was the human race capable of causing him deadly harm? Were the Glyphs Horton’s way of getting us to obliterate ourselves before we killed him? That would certainly be in keeping with the overwhelming feeling that the Glyphs needed to be shared with the entire world. A unilateral weapon wouldn’t keep us down…but if everyone were equally armed – with an unimaginably powerful weapon – how long would it take for us to wipe most of civilization off the map?
I couldn’t help but wonder how religion figured into all of this. Could Horton be God? If not, did God care about Horton (or whomever it was who sent the Glyphs) as much as He cared about us? Could He have cared about the bacteria raging through Pete’s system as much as He cared about us? The bacteria I just helped kill?
Such huge questions. And they seemed so ridiculous. I suppose the notion of bacteria would have seemed equally ridiculous a thousand years ago: invisible organisms living inside us, even capable of killing us. How unbelievable would that be if we didn’t have microscopes? I wondered what even more incredulous possibilities might be uncovered a thousand years from now.
Those questions were beyond me. Did the answers even matter? After all, we’d existed for centuries without those answers. I suppose we’d existed for centuries without antibiotics, too – but they were good to know about. Pete may not have been around much longer without them.
The Glyphs appeared to be a new wrinkle. But, why weapons? And why now?
Chapter 68
At one point during the night while Pete was in the ice bath, he appeared to be somewhat lucid. I had been sitting with him all night, making sure he didn’t drown and holding a large bag of ice on his head. He reached over and grabbed my hand, looked into my eyes and said, “Do you know I love you madly and passionately?”
I assumed that even though he appeared lucid, he was still delusional at that point. But, I wondered…could he have meant what he said?
As Pete quickly started to become his old self, I tended to doubt he even remembered that exchange.
“Why the hell didn’t you call an ambulance?”
“You’d asked me not to.”
“I was delusional. Don’t you think it’s unwise to follow the orders of a delusional person?”
“You asked me not to before you became delusional.”
“Yes, well, I wasn’t on death’s door then was I?”
“I was going to call for help if you sustained 105° for any period of time.”
“105°! Good Lord, that’s slicing it mighty thin don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry, next time I’ll seek medical assistance if you have but a splinter.”
Pete seemed to be kidding during these exchanges. But, I think there was some smidge of seriousness to his tone. Apparently he might have the good sense to be more concerned for his health than his anonymity. Nonetheless, I was glad that we didn’t have to blow our cover.
I did convince Pete that he needed to at least show me how to get to his little survivalist sanctuary. That way, if he didn’t return one night, I’d have a clue as to where to go looking for him. He said he’d take me most (but not all) of the way there the next time he felt well enough to hike up.
Was it my imagination, or were my interactions with Pete just the slightest bit weird now? Maybe was just me, since I was now always on the lookout for any hidden meaning or sign of affection.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Pete had romantic feelings for me. He was incredibly handsome, built like a rock, funny as heck, and a really helpful guy to have around. But, I hadn’t thought about him in a romantic way before. He was certainly wackier than your average human being. But then, maybe I was too. Not too many sane people worked full time figuring out visions in their head.
Since I couldn’t put my finger on how I felt about Pete, I decided to consciously avoid thinking about it. Whenever he’d say something terribly cute, or look straight into my eyes with that little twinkle thing going in his eyes, I’d put any inkling of feeling right out of my mind. I’d replace the thought by fixating on a tall, cold, margarita. I made a mean frozen tropical beverage.
Chapter 69
Pete still wasn’t quite feeling his old self when we got a message from Amy. Well, not exactly from Amy, but about Amy. Jonathon called to tell us Amy was being questioned in the disappearance of the twins.
“They can’t really believe Amy would have harmed the girls, could they, Pete?”
“I doubt it. The bastards are just trying to force you out of hiding.”
“I wonder if some new development made them crank up the heat?”
“Might be. Some of the guys I follow online think the Feds’ chatter is ramping up.”
“People are tracking federal chatter?”
“As best they can.”
“And you didn’t tell me about this because?”
“Who knows how accurate their assessments are? And who knows what it could be about? They could be planning a big state dinner.”
“Anything else you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing pertaining to you.”
Pete and his secrets could be so maddening. But, that penchant for privacy was wha
t kept my involvement with the website off the public radar.
“Maybe it would be best if you didn’t use your computer for awhile.”
Pete losing faith in the nontraceability of the website really scared me.
“Do you think they suspect I’m with you?”
“There’s a possibility. Your little shootout made them aware you’re friends with Jim. If they get real serious about investigating, they’ll start looking into relatives and friends of friends. If that happens they’ll connect the dots that lead to Tortola.”
“Tortola’s small. If they check it out, it won’t take long to find us. Maybe you should leave, Pete.” I hated the idea of him leaving, but there was no reason for him to expose himself to trouble. He was on the island illegally. Who knew what consequences that might create?
“You’re right. It’s not like I’ll do you any good if the Feds show up.”
I was hurt that Pete jumped on the chance of leaving. But, he was extremely practical. He packed his backpack in preparation to leave at daybreak. I woke up extra early to make him a nice breakfast and drive him down the hill, but he was already gone. He left a note: “I meant what I said.” Then he drew a little heart and signed it “Pete.”
Chapter 70
After Pete left, I was an anxious wreck. Without the Internet, I felt like I had no contact with the outside world. I didn’t know what the government might be doing to pressure my friends and family into divulging my whereabouts (not that they knew). And I was constantly on edge, expecting the authorities to turn up at any minute. It was almost maddening when they didn’t show up.
Pete had been gone for a week and I’d heard no news from – or about – Amy. I’d just tucked the girls into bed and happened to turn on CNN. Anderson Cooper stopped me in my tracks. There was an update regarding the Glyphs weaponry. Homeland Security had released a statement: The weapon would be of absolutely no value on earthbound targets. It was strictly designed for objects in deep space.
I turned off the TV and called Amy.
The End of Book One
Autumn, 2009
Catching On Fire was originally slated to be titled Do You See What I See, but research revealed that title to be in use too many times for the author’s comfort. The author intends this book to be the first in a series. The release date for the next book has not yet been set (as of Spring, 2012).
Additional books by Sue Knott include:
TwiLITE A Parody
Vampire The Transformation of Trinity Jones, a novella with adult content
The H.Unger Games Gone Wild Risk Meets Risqué A Parody (under pseudonym, Lardyard Hempoon)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This novel was vastly improved by the contributions of a number of people to whom I am eternally grateful. Among them, Agnes, Carol, Jean, Sharon, Sue and several others who I’m not sure wish to be mentioned…but you know who you are.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sue Knott is the doting mother of a teen son and the long-suffering wife of an equally long-suffering (but much crankier) husband. She has also been “mom” to a bunny (now deceased) and an extremely energetic Siberian Husky.
She has had a varied and successful career as an advertising copywriter. She has lived in Pittsburgh, PA; NYC; LaCrosse, WI; Scranton, PA; and currently makes her home in upstate NY. Occasionally she tries her hand at stand-up comedy, though she is in complete and total terror whenever she takes the stage. She prefers to write, rather than perform, humor and has published parodies of popular fiction.
Sue is an avid gardener and wishes she had time to pursue craft projects (or even just to clean her house). Sue has a sweet tooth. She wears a size 9 shoe. She collects art glass. She recycles. She sewed her own wedding gown (big mistake). She revels in the outdoors and longs to be on the beach. She prattles on at the keyboard. She is a safety nutcase. And she loves to Zumba.