AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rebecca read the letter again. That was as good as it was going to get. She was too tired to try any more.
She gathered up the other papers into a loose pile and pushed them onto the floor. Her mother's letter, she folded neatly, then wrote what she knew of her mother's address on the back. She set it and her pen on the nightstand.
Burrowing beneath the covers, she let her eyes drift closed. She hoped Desmond would return soon.
"ARE YOU CERTAIN?" Desmond asked.
"They're the same," Doctor Chen repeated, laying two colored charts on the desk in front of him. Two identical colored charts.
The doctor tapped the righ
tmost chart. "This is the analysis of your wife's blood, okay?"
He slid the other chart beneath it, where it lined up perfectly. "This is an analysis of the blood cells I created before your daughter's transplant, to prove a child of yours could act as a bone marrow donor."
"But what does that mean for Rebecca?"
"It means her blood chemistry is stable, like yours or Philippe's."
"She'll live?"
"Yes." Doctor Chen held up a hand, cutting off Desmond's jubilation. "At least, if she survives rejection sickness."
Rejection sickness. The specter that haunted each of Gillian's transplants. Rebecca's body was trying to purge itself of the tainted blood.
"What can I do?" he whispered.
"Keep her fever down. If it gets too high, bring her to the hospital."
Desmond thanked Doctor Chen for his good work, and hurried home to be with Rebecca. As he keyed the card reader outside his door, a wave of weakness hit him. He clutched the door frame, and staggered inside.
The room seemed wavy and out of focus. He blinked his eyes, but it didn't help. He rubbed his hand across his face. When he brought it away, it was damp. His face was covered in sweat.
His curse was in full force. He was sharing her death.
"No!" he croaked. He would not lose her now. Not when they were so close.
He made his way to the bedroom and threw open the door. Rebecca lay under a mound of bedding, her face streaked with sweat. She moaned softly and twitched at the covers, her head rolling from side to side in mute denial of her sickness.
He had to lower her fever. Now. He couldn't wait to get her to the hospital.
The room spun about him. He swayed, but stayed on his feet. His weakness didn't matter. He had to save Rebecca.
Stumbling into the bathroom, he caught the edge of the sink to keep from falling. He fumbled with the cold water tap, finally twisting it open, and drenched a towel in the tepid water. Letting the water run until it turned glacial, he filled a cup then gulped it down. His parched throat cried out for more, and he drained three cups before filling one for Rebecca.
The cold and the moisture braced him, and he returned to her steady on his feet. Kneeling beside the bed, so that his body heat would not add to her discomfort, he bathed her face and torso with the wet towel. Rebecca's restless thrashing stilled somewhat, and he lifted her up enough to wet her lips with the cup of water. Even in her fevered state, she recognized what he was doing, and reached for the cup with both hands.
Swallowing the water in greedy gulps, she continued to suck at the cup even after she'd drained it dry. He pulled it away, easily overwhelming her feeble resistance, and placed a corner of the towel over her lips instead. She sucked the moisture from the already warm towel, and he hurried back to the bathroom to get a fresh towel and a full glass of water.
When he returned, not half a minute later, she was writhing on the bed. Her breath came in short pants, punctuated by growling moans. He rushed to her side, placing a hand on her forehead to discover how high her fever had risen.
Struggling to hold her head still, he ended up winding his arm around her neck in a half-nelson. Pinning her in place, he retrieved the cup he'd set down and lifted it to her lips. She stopped fighting long enough to swallow all the water, and he took advantage of the pause to throw the new towel around her. Her blistering heat scorched it in seconds.
His efforts weren't enough. Her fever was still climbing faster than he could offset it. He needed a faster way to cool her.
The tub! Disentangling himself from her, he ran back to the bathroom, this time throwing wide the spigot in the tub, filling it with a cascade of lukewarm water. He turned back to the bedroom, and stopped in horror.
Rebecca had pushed herself into a seated position, cringing against the headboard, as she stared around her with wild-eyed terror. Her hands moved in a blur before her face, swatting and swiping at something only she could see. With a cry, she began desperately clawing at her arms and chest.
