Escape Read Online Free PDF Page B

vegeta-tion/’ Ian explained. “I saw it in a show about saving the rain forest/’
    “That World War Two doctor said it was safe/’ added Luke.
    “Forget it. I won’t drink it.”
    But he did drink it, largely due to his sister’s threat to have it poured down his throat. The complaining was a filibuster. Will never seemed to run out of new ways to describe the taste of bitter-melon tea — skunk juice, crankcase oil, toxic waste, boiled sweat, and Sasquatch drool, to name a few.
    It became so entertaining to listen to his graphic descriptions as the day wore on that they almost lost sight of a very serious reality: Will’s fever was still rising.
    “It’s not working,” Lyssa whispered nervously. “Isn’t there anything else we can give him? How about that stuff from the dispensary?”
    “Well, there is one thing,” Ian ventured reluctantly. “Novocain.”
    “Novocain?” laughed JJ. “What are you going to do — drill his teeth?”
    Ian flushed. “Today Novocain is mostly used by dentists. But it can actually freeze any part of the body for surgery.”
    “You mean surgery on W/7/?” Lyssa was shaken by the sudden realization of what the younger boy was leading up to. “Shoot his leg full of painkiller and try to cut the bullet out?” She turned blazing eyes on him. “Are youcrazy ? It’s only a little fever! He’s not that sick!”
    “I agree/’ said Ian. “But if hegets that sick, the bullet has to come out.”
    “In a nice clean hospital!” Lyssa added, a shrill edge to her voice. “With a doctor who didn’t learn his job by watching the Surgery Channel!”
    “Nobody’s cutting up anybody,” soothed Luke, “lan’s just laying out our options.”
    “This isn’t an option,” insisted Lyssa. “Never, never, never!” lan’s expression plainly told her thatnever might come sooner then she thought.
    The second group of smugglers arrived the very next afternoon. Will choked on a mouthful of bitter-melon tea when he spotted the aircraft.
    Lyssa put her hands on her hips. “Oh, come on. Don’t be such a baby.”
    Will kept on gagging and pointing.
    “Plane!” shouted J.J.
    Luke peered through the binoculars. “Twin-engine floatplane,” he reported in a subdued tone. “It’s them, all right.”
    Lyssa’s hope popped before her like a soap bubble. For a few seconds, this plane had carried rescuers and not a fresh set of problems. Oh, God, what if helpnever came? What would happen to Will?
    Watching her brother was like observing somebody with a bad flu. But while flu built, peaked, and then went away, this was growing worse with every passing moment.
    That evening, Will’s fever went well over 102 degrees. His face was flushed, his eyes were sunken, and he seemed languid and hazy.
    In the middle of the night, he woke up the castaways with loud shouting. When Lyssa finally managed to shake him out of his nightmare, he was annoyed with her.
    “Come on, Lyss, I’m trying to get some sleep. I’m not feeling so great, you know.”
    The next night, he kept everyone up with hours of high-pitched giggling.
    “Hey,” muttered J.J., “lose the laugh track.”
    But the snickers and guffaws continued until almost dawn. At that point, Will fell silent, dozing on and off all day. At four o’clock, his fever topped 103.
    “That’s bad, right?” he asked feebly, “That can’t be good.”
    “You’re burning up,” Ian admitted. “We’re go-ing to take you down to the water and cool you off.”
    Luke and Ian helped Will into the surf. He was really weak, but once in the ocean he seemed better, with a natural buoyancy that made him comfortable in the water.
    Will winced from the pain in his thigh. “Man, that stings!”
    “Salt water’s good for the infection,” Ian reminded him. They had been applying compresses to the wound at every bandage change.
    With a chest-pounding Tarzan yell, JJ. leaped off the high rocks at the edge of the cove and hit the waves with a drenching