The next day, the few men that hadn't raised their hands at being sick were rushing to the bathroom with everyone else, and many of the men had gotten much worse. Over half had the vomiting that accompanied the water diarrhea of cholera, and those who'd already been vomiting were experiencing muscle cramps and the beginnings of fevers. Jake was struggling to figure out how to keep the crew well enough to pilot into the Islands; they still had a days worth of ground to cover.
"Hey Krista, how are you feeling?" He greeted her, as he walked into her room. He'd been checking on her regularly as he'd promised, and was growing more worried about her.
"Fine." She was sick, how was she supposed to respond to that?
"Right. You look a little pale drink some more water." He handed her a fresh bottle.
"Ow!" Emily dropped the bottle as she went to grip it, a muscle cramp attacking her forearm.
Jake gave her a worried look. The cholera was progressing rapidly, soon muscle cramps would be the least of what the dehydration caused.
"How far are we from land?" Emily was trying not to show how worried she was, but her large belly was a constant reminder of what was at stake.
"We've got another day before we hit the Islands." Jake was lost deep in thought as he answered her. His crew might not make it another day, he had to figure out what to do.
"How's the rest of the crew?" Emily used her ability to read to people in determining that he was worried about more than just her.
"Not great," his reply was absent and unfocused, until his eyes focused on her and he gave her a small smile. "But, don't you worry, everything will be fine."
Emily nodded, though she didn't believe him. She couldn't imagine what was going through his head right then, after all, this was his boat that poisoned his crew.
Jake gave her wrist a little tap to comfort, and then left the cabin as quickly as he'd come in. Emily took a few more sips of the water, before setting the bottle down, and closing her eyes.
Jake headed to his small control room, and begin pacing as he debated what to do. He could try to pilot the boat with less than half a crew, and risk the sickest half dying, or he could call for help and try to save his men, and the pregnant young woman he'd taken on board. Shaking his head and scolding himself for how easy his decision was, Jake grabbed the radio, and began to speak.
"This Jake Mendelson of the Emerald Genie issuing a distress call. Coordinates are 9.4 longitude, 143 latitude. Repeat Emerald Genie, with a distress call. 9.4 longitude, 143 latitude. Out." He released the button and closed his eyes. Jake had never had to issue a distress call in all his years on the sea, and he considered this a testament to himself and his crew, a badge of honor.
"Emerald Genie, this is the Pickering, we're not too far from you. What's the problem? Out." His radio squawked back at him after a few minutes.
"Emerald Genie to the Pickering, we have a cholera out break. Nineteen people on board, 11 are seriously ill, one's pregnant, and the other eight are sick, but still on their feet. Out."
"Pickering to Genie. Shit, man. Do you have bottled water?" Out."
"Genie to Pickering, yeah, started drinking it yesterday. We won't make it to land though. Can you offer help? Out."
"Pickering back to Genie, yeah, give us and hour and a half. We're on our way now. Out."
"Genie to Pickering, thanks." As Jake released the button this time, he also released the breath he'd been holding. They were getting help, this was very good news. Shoving his pride deep inside him, Jake went to find his crew to let them know not to worry.
To Emily the news was received with mixed emotions. First, it meant that things were really as bad as she thought, and that made her worry more about her baby. Second, the fewer people that saw her the better, she was after all, still a fugitive. But, ultimately, they were getting help, that was what was most important. Maybe, she and her baby had a chance to make it through this. Really, God couldn't be so cruel?
An hour and twenty minutes after Emily received this announcement, it sounded like all hell broke loose out outside the closed door of her cabin. She could hear what sounded like hundreds of shoes smacking the floor, but really couldn't have been more than fifty. Things were being moved around, people were talking loudly, Jake was barking orders, as was a man's voice she didn't recognize.
Feeling tired, achy, and slightly dizzy, Emily yanked herself up off the bed, swallowed a few more mouthfuls of water, and opened the door to see the chaos. Jake and a man she didn't recognize, who likely belonged to the voice she didn't know, were talking as men helped each other up the stairs to leave the boat. Several of the men from their rescuer, the Pickering stop and stared when they saw Emily, or more correctly, saw Emily's belly.
There are few places in her life where Emily felt more uncomfortable, and she was reminded again that boat's were very much still a man's thing. Though she was sure somewhere there were a few women that would argue against that like hell. Jake and his friend caught sight of her sudden appearance after the lull in the traffic became obvious. Jake gave her a smile, and walked over to her.
"These are our friends from the Pickering come to save us. I've been talking to Scott here, and he says they have a woman on board their ship with a two-bed cabin that you can share. You think you can walk over?" Evidently, Emily looked as bad as she was feeling.
"I think so. Who's going to take the Genie in?" She wondered.
"I'll be taking her in, with a few of Scott's sailors. A few of my crew that aren't as sick will be staying too. We should be able to get her to port before we all crap out."
"You're going to risk that?"
"I worked myself to the bone to get this ship, nobody pilots her but me." He could call out, begging for help, but he'd be damned if he'd abandon his ship.
Emily shrugged, there was no arguing with a man like Jake about a boat, especially when he referred to the boat with a gender. She turned back to her room to throw a few last minute things in her bag.
Emily tried to ignore how dizzy she was beginning to feel as she finished tossing items into her bag, and started zipping it up. She never got the zipper all the way around. Everything turned black in front of her as if someone had turned her eyes off, but she was still conscious. She let go of the zipper and step back a moment, one hand out trying to get a feeling for her surroundings. Just as her hand touched something warm and likely human, her brain shut itself down and she went down.
Jake and Scott barely caught her as she collapsed, each grabbing her before she actually made it to the floor. They eased her down, and Scott began tapping at her face, hoping to revive her. Jake looked toward her abdomen, relived that so far, there was no trace of blood leaking out from beneath her.
"Jerry! Jerry!" Jake called to the tall blond Emily had seen on the dock, before she gotten on the boat.
"What happened?" Jerry had to have had a whole lot of Scandinavian blood in him, because he was at least six-four, and with that muscle, no less than 250. That was why Jake called him, the man was big enough to carry a pregnant women without struggling and jolting her about.
"Krista passed out, can you carry her onto the Pickering, Scott can show you where they're putting her, right?" He turned to his new friend to confirm the last part. Scott nodded, still gently tapping Emily's face.
Jerry nodded, and in one swift more, lifted Emily into his arms, bending at the knees to protect his back, as he rose from the floor. He'd carried much heavy things, and had little difficulty getting Emily up the stairs and onto the Pickering. Scott followed with Emily's suitcase, taking the lead once they were on the Pickering, to show Jerry to Emily's new cabin.
"This my new roommate?" Gayle Michaels asked as the two men entered her cabin, and placed Emily on the bottom bunk. She wasn't well enough to be climbing off and on the top one.
"Yeah. Gayle this is Krista, she's pregnant and has cholera. Now, being that you are the only one between these two boats that really knows about the former, can I count on you to look out for her?" Scott asked her as she studied Emily.
"Course you can, Scott. But, can I ask what the hell she doing on a fishing boat five months pregnant?" Gayle was fifty-four, still had brown hair naturally, and an adored son in college. True, it may have been a few years, but she could tell this Krista was at least five months along.
"I don't know, and neither does the Genie's captain. Her boyfriend paid him to take her to the Islands, but didn't come with." Scott shrugged, he didn't much care either.
"Alright, shoo both of you, so I can play doctor." She put both her hands up and fanned them out.
Over the next eighteen hours, Emily woke up several times, groggily and barely lucid. The first time an older woman leaned over her, examining her with a concerned and skeptical look. Emily tried to ask who she was, but she passed out before she could. Emily saw the same blurry vision of the same woman the second time she woke up, and managed only to get a glimpse of her surroundings before passing out again.
The third time, Emily saw both that same woman and the man she knew as Scott looking down on her with worry. She figured she must be on the Pickering, with her new roommate. Her head felt fuzzy, her mouth dry, her body sore, especially around her abdomen. She was definitely feeling some pain there, but was too delirious to register what it meant.
The fourth time she woke up, there was a new face in the mix, wearing a white lab coat. She glanced around, trying to ignore the pain in her belly. She was still in the cabin on the boat, so how did a doctor get there? She saw Scott, and her new roommate beside the doctor, strained expressions on their faces. Her mind came out of the fog enough to tell her body there was something warm an wet rushing between her legs. She struggled to sit up, suddenly in a panicked alert. Blood, a lot of blood on the bed. Then once again, the lights went out, and Emily was left in a feverish slumber
Emily actually really woke up a few hours later to the brightest sun she'd ever seen blazing through the open window next to her. She looked around at her surroundings to confused by what she saw to move to another thought. It looked like a doctors office or hospital, certainly not the fishing boat she'd been on, and the transport boat she'd been transferred to. They must have made it to land. Then her mind assaulted her with memories of the last time she woke up. Blood.
Ignoring the IV line in her arm, Emily lurched up, as one hand flying to her stomach. Her much slimmer stomach. She still had some of the weight she'd put on, but she knew there was no baby in her any longer. She brought her other hand to her abdomen, touching her barren belly with both hands so softly, her fingertips were barely dancing over the surface. She wanted to believe that she'd just delivered early, that a nurse would come in any minute, pushing the incubator in front of her. Emily desperately wanted to believe that she'd get to hold her baby safe in her arms, and feel the sensation of the first time it suckled on her breast.
But, Emily was smart, she knew no baby could live outside of the womb at barely 21 weeks. Not on a boat, and not in some tiny Island hospital. With this realization, tears began to slowly slip from her eyes, landing softly on the white sheet, turning it grey. She wrapped her arms across her abdomen, holding herself, as the few tears turned to torrential rains.
After a few minutes a nurse walked in, happy to see her patient awake for only a moment, until she realized the young woman already knew her child was dead.
"I'm so sorry," she uttered her condolence quietly, approaching her patient, and wrapping an arm around her.
Emily continued to cry for quite a while longer in the woman's embrace, unable to silence her pain. Her mind drifted to a thought she'd had the day before: so, God could be so cruel then?
First, she lost her family, friends, job; she'd had to give up her whole life. Then she was forced to say goodbye to the one thing she did have left from her life, Matt. Now, she lost her child before she even saw it, before it even became a child. That was the final straw for her, Emily had had enough pain at this point to last her a lifetime. She pulled back from the nurse suddenly, startling the kind woman. She began to furiously dry her eyes, no more tears, she'd cried enough the last two years to last her ten lifetimes.
"Can I get you anything dear? Call anybody?" The nurse asked her, concerned.
"Yes, where's the nearest airport? I'm going home."
Yes, I already know that you all probably hate me right now, but this is the worst of it; it'll start to get better from here out, I promise! So, don't hate me too much, and thanks for reading, even though it's a little depressing right now, and especially reviewing.