Page 83 of Totally Wrecked
The first thing to do is get the patient to take activated charcoal. Activated charcoal binds with the toxins. Brooke had given Leander the charcoal from the fire. It wouldn’t work quite as well, but it was still a good move.
I check Leander’s eyes, his pupil contracted against the light. After intense seizures, a deep and profound sleep can happen. If the patient survives past 24 hours, recovery is probable. I think we just had to wait for him to wake up.
Looking over to where Brooke is huddled by the fire, pale and shaking, I wonder what she’s gone through. What they have all gone through. Killian and Harvey are flanked either side of her.
“Harvey!” I yell.
“What?” he snaps.
“Get more firewood and build up the fire.” For a minute I think he aims to argue, but then he just stalks off and does as he is told.
“I need to talk to Brooke. Can you keep an eye on Leander for a moment, Killian?”
He nods and we swap places. I squat down next to the shaking girl. I gotta find out where the fuck they are getting their hydration.
“Hey, Brooke.”
“How is he?” Tears pool in her eyes.
“I’m not sure, but I do know that if someone gets through the first 24-hours of strychnine poisoning, they usually make it.”
“They do?” Now the tears breach and spill down her face. “I was so afraid I was doing everything wrong.” Brooke gives a sob. “I just want him to be OK.”
“We all do,” I say. “You did everything right. Everything. The charcoal was good.” I explain about the “profound” sleep that can happen after certain seizures. “Did his back arch off the ground?”
She nods. “I thought he was going to snap in half! It was like something out of a horror movie.”
Damn, the thought of Key seeing that, and Brooke having to deal with it all on her own, is appalling. “Listen, you need to rest, but first we need water. Where have you been getting it from?”
When she explains about the pool, and the lychees, I get a spurt of energy. “That’s amazing. Give me the directions and I'll go refill all your plastics. Is it easy to find?”
She stands up, her legs wobble and knock together like a newborn foal. “I’ll go. I know the way, it’ll be quicker.”
“Why don’t we go together? I don’t want you passing out in the jungle.”
“And leave Leander with Killian and Harvey?”
Harvey is now throwing driftwood on the fire, but Killian is bent over Leander, talking softly.
“We’ll be quick,” I promise her. “But we have to get more water. I’ve got to figure out how to hydrate Leander. There is a lot to do before it gets dark.”
Brooke nods, then once we’ve gathered all the bottles and what looks like a baby-wipe container, we head into the forest once more. I am keeping one arm around her waist, like a nurse ushering a frail patient, but she moves at a reasonable pace. From somewhere, she’s dug up some more cajones.
“How was everything before the poisoning?” I ask her. “I guess that’s a whole other story, but you, Key, and Leander—you were getting along OK?”
I swear she blushes.
“We were good. We’d got coconuts, lychee, clams and water. Leander had caught crabs.” At that another sob comes out. I pull her to a stop.
“What?”
She looks up at me, smiling and crying at the same time and explains about the Leander “catching crabs” joke.
“Yeah, that sounds like our boy.”
“Our boy...” she says, her laughter drying up. “We can’t lose him.”
“We won’t. He is one of the most resilient humans I’ve ever met. He bounces back from anything.”
