Page 19 of Dance Practice, Marooned: Part 2

He stares at me, then for the first time in a while, he grins. “Sorry about that.”

“I appreciate you taking care of me,” I add in. “I really do. Do you think it’s going to get worse?”

“Hope not. You’re young, strong and if we get you plenty of fluids and rest, we should get through it.”

“But will it get worse?” I whisper.

He meets my gaze. “Yeah, it could. These things tend to get worse before they get better.”

I nod and swallow the painful lump in my throat.

“We’ll be good,” Ace murmurs, low. “I got you.”

For a while after that, we don’t talk. I drift in and out of sleep, the ache in my bones constant. Rachel runs back with the supplies and then tells us they are going to stay at camp until I am feeling better, then they’ll move closer to the shelter. After that, they leave us there. Adrian still hops around outside, muttering something to himself, but he doesn’t come in.

The sun sets, and the shack glows with a flicker of light as Ace builds a fire outside, not too close that it can burn. I stare over at him, squatting in front of it, keeping it alive by feeding dry palm fibres and splinters of driftwood. The smell is sweet and earthy. It’s the first thing that makes me feel like maybe, somehow, we’ll survive. Not because of the shack, but because something in Ace refuses to give up.

At some point I must drift off again, because I open my eyes to find Adrian sitting beside me, just staring at me. It takes me a moment to focus, and my eyes move around the shack, but he is the only one here. “Don’t panic, he just went to get dinner.”

“I wasn’t panicking,” I mutter. “Why are you staring at me? That’s creepy, Adrian.”

“I was making sure you didn’t stop breathing. Ace told me if anything happens while he’s gone, he’ll cut my other leg off.”

I press my lips together.

“What time is it?”

He shrugs. “Dark.” He rubs his hands together, then shifts. “Did you know your boyfriend built this place with his own bare hands?”

I glare at him, but it lacks venom. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Adrian snorts. “Whatever he is, that’s talent.”

He’s not wrong.

“Do you think this is it for us?” Adrian suddenly asks, turning to stare at me so intensely I shrink away a little. “Do you think this is where we’ll stay until something beats us and we die.”

Jesus.

I go to answer roughly, my tone short, but then I see the look on his face and the fear that hides behind his expression. He’s scared.

“I don’t know, Adrian,” I say, honestly. “I hope there is a way out for us, but until there is, we will do everything we can to survive. We have come this far, we will keep going.”

He nods.

We both just stare out at the fire, which is still flickering away.

I hope I’m right.

I really hope we survive this.

I DIDN’T THINK IT COULD get worse.

It does.

A few more days pass and the fevers increase to the point that I am sweating constantly, shivering, and my entire body is screaming in pain. I have continuous abdominal cramps that feel as though a hot knife is being driven into my stomach. If this is what being alive feels like right now, I choose death.

“Hey, Grace,” Aggie soothes, wiping a cloth over my face as I writhe in pain. “It’s going to be okay.”