by Suzanne Cass
‘Yep, Alisha and I’ll help her, Jason, you check if everyone else is okay,’ Tam called from behind her. ‘Cilla sit down.’ She felt a gentle pressure on her shoulders and lowered herself slowly onto the sand. The wind was still howling, whipping sand up into her face.
She heard Jason say, ‘Anyone else hurt?’ then Tam knelt down in front of her, shielding her from the worst of the flying sand with his body. He was fumbling with something, but in the dark she couldn’t see what he was doing. It wasn’t until she heard a ripping sound that she realised he was tearing up his t-shirt. Alisha plumped down next to Cilla, close and reassuring.
‘Cilla, give me your hand.’ He found her hand in the dark and closed her fingers around a wad of cloth – the t-shirt he’d just ripped up. ‘Place this over the cut and keep pressure on it, try and stop any bleeding.’ She did as she was told, having to hold back a groan as the cloth touched her mangled forehead. He kept his fingers lightly pressed over hers. ‘How does that feel?’
‘It hurts,’ she ground out between gritted teeth.
‘Alisha, can you help Cilla keep pressure on that, I’m going to help Jason and the others. I think they’re trying to build a sand wall to give us a bit of shelter from the wind.’ His hand lifted and he started to move away. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can, Cilla.’ Then his warm protection was gone and she was left to be buffeted by the wind and sand. Alisha moved in closer and they huddled together.
Sooner than she might’ve imagined, Tam was back again. ‘We’ve built a wall. Come this way. We’re all going to group behind it. It should offer some defence from the worst of the weather.’ They shuffled along behind him through the driving sand and rain and eventually found the rest of the team. Lowering down to sit next to Marg and the others, Cilla found she was suddenly out of the driving force of the wind. Wild gusts were still eddying around them, but the sand wall was taking the brunt of the force. It was amazing how much better it felt not having to force her body to stand against the battering gale. The rain had even eased up a little.
Tam sat down next to her and pulled her in close, tucking her in under his arm, trying to shelter her as much as he could from the elements.
‘I think there’s only an hour or so before dawn, we’ll be safe here until then,’ he said into her ear. ‘Jason says the wind is dropping already, and I think he might be right. That big gust that blew the tree over was probably the storm’s last hurrah before it went on its way.’
Nodding her agreement she curled tighter into his chest, glad of the warmth from his body. Her head still throbbed painfully, but she drew in a calming breath and let the sense of security Tam offered seep into her soul. She couldn’t believe how close to giving into a full-blown panic attack she’d been tonight. It wasn’t like her to give in to fear. She prided herself on her practical handling of all situations. She didn’t like the fact this island was forcing her to extremes, making her re-evaluate her own character. It was a tough pill to swallow, to find out she wasn’t as infallible as she thought. First the inability to eat the baby chick episode and now her near-hysteria in this storm.
Just this once she’d take Tam’s proffered comfort, let herself feel safe in his arms, even if it was for only a few short hours.
~
Dawn stole up on them, silent and grey. One minute Cilla could see nothing except a few stars, which managed to evade the scudding clouds, and the next minute black edges became grey, shapes morphing out of the gloom became trees. She could even make out the features on Tam’s sleeping face, so close to her own.
Colour washed into the murky landscape as light climbed over the horizon.
Looking around, she took in the tangle of bodies clumped together on the wet sand. Everyone else looked to be asleep. Cilla watched as the encroaching light revealed the storm’s destruction.
The beach was strewn with branches, large and small, and foliage of every kind. Tree trunks the size of missiles littered the sand, washed ashore from the storm-ravaged coast. Other trees were lying flat on the edge of the jungle, or leaning at odd angles where the wind had tried to blow them over, but failed. A lot of the softer leafed trees were stripped of their greenery, leaving bare sticks raising their fingers to the sky. At least the beach had remained fairly much intact, thanks to the large boulders sheltering the bay, but a sizeable hunk looked like it had been clawed out of the sand by some enormous wild animal near the other end not shielded by the rocks.
Their hut was a write-off. Two of the sides were completely smashed to smithereens, the shredded tarp flapping angrily in the breeze. A large coconut palm lay on the ground next to the hut – the tree responsible for doing all the damage. Thank God that hadn’t landed right in the middle, merely glanced off the side as it fell.
The storm had blown itself out, only a weak breeze and a few clouds limping across the horizon remained.
A sound caught her attention, and turning her head she saw a boat swing into the bay, JJ’s worried face at the bow. The boat hardly even slowed as it sped in and crunched straight into the sand. Two crew members vaulted out to steady it with JJ hot on their heels, running up the beach towards them, not caring his designer jeans and expensive shoes were saturated in the rolling waves.
‘Is everyone alright?’ he shouted as he skidded to a stop next to their huddle of humanity. It was the first time she thought she’d ever seen naked fear on his face. ‘We tried contacting you on the two-way, but we couldn’t raise you.’ Tam woke at the sound of JJ’s voice and sat up with a start, blinking like an owl. Cilla sat up too, the effort causing her head to start throbbing.
‘Yes we’re all safe and accounted for. I think the two-way got smashed when the tree came down on our shelter,’ Jason replied, sleep making his voice thick.
‘Let’s get the medics up here right away and get you all checked out.’ JJ gestured for the two crew doctors who were disembarking the boat to come quickly. He swept an assessing gaze over the motley crew, taking in their condition and cataloguing any injuries. Taking two strides over to where Cilla was sitting on the sand he knelt down next to her. She felt Tam lay a protective hand on her back.
‘Cilla, you look like you got hit in the head. Let’s get the medics to look at you first, okay?’ She nodded and then regretted the movement.
As the female medic dropped her first aid bag in the sand next to her and asked her if it was alright if she lifted the blood stained rag away so she could have a look, Cilla heard JJ ask, ‘How about everyone else? Is anyone else injured?’
It turned out Marg had some bruising on her back and shoulders where some of the shelter had collapsed on top of her and Susan had sprained her ankle when she’d jumped down onto the sand from the devastated shelter. All in all, they’d escaped remarkably unscathed, considering the state of their hut.
‘Looks like you guys might’ve been saved by the lower branches of that coral tree you were camped under. That large bough right above the roof of your hut took the brunt of the weight of the falling tree. Deflected it away from the centre, so that it only gave a glancing blow,’ JJ said. Cilla shuddered to think what might’ve happened if the tree had landed where it was supposed to. And she knew JJ would’ve been thinking the exact same thing. He was probably praising the Lord right now at how things had turned out. Things wouldn’t have looked good for him, or the show, if someone had been badly injured or killed.
‘Oww.’ Cilla had been gritting her teeth and trying to stay still while the medic performed her ministrations, but the sting of antiseptic was too much.
‘Sorry, Cilla.’ The woman did look contrite at least. ‘But this needs to be cleaned so I can gauge the damage.’
‘I know,’ she replied trying to raise a smile, which quickly turned into a grimace.
‘How does it look doc? Is she going to live?’ Tam had stayed by her side, holding her hand while the medic poked and prodded.
‘It’ll need stitches,’ she said, her gaze pensive. Cilla’s heart sank. She knew it�
��d been a possibility. She wondered how much that’d slow her down in the knockouts.
‘She’ll be good as new once you’ve fixed her up though,’ said Tam, in a bright voice.
‘Yes, she will. In a few weeks’ time you’ll hardly know it was there,’ agreed the medic. ‘But you won’t be able to continue on Sea-Quest I’m afraid, it’d be too risky.’
Cilla reared back from the woman’s touch. ‘What did you just say?’
CHAPTER TEN
‘You can’t be serious! You’re not taking me out of the game!’ Cilla’s heart was pounding, her voice loud and strained. They couldn’t do this to her. She needed to stay.
‘Tam, don’t let them take me out.’ She turned to him, desperate.
‘Surely things aren’t that bad, are they? It’s just a scratch really.’ Tam looked to the medic, but couldn’t hide the worried frown hovering on his brows. She’d been so angry at the thought a simple cut could remove her from the game, but seeing the unease in Tam, her anger turned quickly into fear. Fear she would indeed be eliminated.
‘It mightn’t look all that bad, but out here in the tropics, things can become infected fast if you aren’t careful.’ The female medic kept her face implacable, but Cilla heard the truth behind her words. Bubbles of alarm rose up from her gut. For the second time in only a few short hours, Cilla felt powerless and afraid. But wasn’t going meekly, to be led away like some woolly-headed lamb. Panic turned to stubbornness.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’ She knew she sounded like a querulous child but she no longer cared. ‘It’s my decision, isn’t it? And I decide I’m staying.’
Cilla saw JJ’s head appear above a group of team members who were sitting in a semicircle debriefing from the night’s events. It was obvious he’d heard the altercation. Other heads turned as well, curiosity and surprise on their faces. Alisha’s anxious face appeared beside JJ’s and she made as if to get up, before JJ shook his head. She sat back down and JJ marched over.
‘What’s up, Cilla?’
‘This medic of yours says I’m not fit to play the game anymore. That just isn’t true. I know you can’t force me to leave,’ her voice got louder, despite her efforts to keep it under control.
‘Okay, Cilla, calm down.’ JJ laid a placating hand on her shoulder. ‘Let’s talk this through. The medics aren’t your enemies, they’re here to help and give advice.’ She clenched her jaw, wanting to pull away from his solicitous touch, his cool logic just making her angrier.
‘Fine, talk then. But you’re not making me go,’ she muttered.
‘Sorry, Helen,’ JJ said to the female medic. ‘What’s your opinion on this one?’
‘She’s going to need twelve to fourteen stitches, which I can do out here in the field, but it won’t be as pretty as a surgeon could do back on the mainland.’ Cilla gave a snort of contempt. As if she cared about being pretty. A million dollars was more important than a little scar on her forehead.
‘My main worry,’ continued Helen, ignoring her snort, ‘is infection afterwards. We can inject a big dose of antibiotics, but with the dirt and humidity and just plain bad living conditions out here, I can’t assure you it won’t go septic.’ Cilla snorted again.
‘Don’t take this lightly, Cilla,’ JJ interrupted. ‘An infection can turn into blood poisoning real quick out here. I’ve seen it happen before.’
‘You need to at least hear her out,’ Tam chipped in, and then raised his hands in surrender when she threw him an irritated glance. Even Tam was telling her to listen now. Whose side was he on?
She glared up into Tam’s troubled face, until he leant forward and touched her leg, entreaty and something else unfathomable in his eyes. ‘I don’t want you to go either, Cilla, but I’d hate to see you take a stupid risk and end up really sick. Or worse.’
As Tam leant forward to talk to her, she noticed what remained of his shirt flapping around his stomach. Then she remembered he’d torn it to pieces to help stop her bleeding. The tattered shirt and the fledgling beard made him look more like a Robin Caruso castaway than ever before. Her anger diminished at the memory of how he’d protected her last night and she drew in a calming breath. Of course he wasn’t trying to get rid of her, the pain in her head and fear of being sent home were making her paranoid, that was all.
‘Fine, tell me what the risks are then.’ She sat back, leaning on her hands, pretending for all the world this was just a precaution and she didn’t really care what they said.
‘Sepsis is when an infection enters you blood stream. In this humidity, if you don’t look after that cut and keep it as dry as possible it could become infected. It also needs to be kept clean.’ Helen gave a pointed glance towards the camp. Cilla knew living on the island in these very basic conditions, without hot running water or soap, wasn’t ideal. ‘Most infections are easy to treat with oral antibiotics, but in people who are perhaps compromised in some way, such as lacking food and clean water, then you can become more susceptible,’ Helen said, explaining the obstacles with cool calculation. If only Cilla could feel that composed about the whole thing.
‘So if she does start to get an infection, there must be some sort of signs we can look out for,’ said Tam. She hated his matter-of-fact tone nearly as much as the smug look on Helen’s face.
‘Yep, the wound will probably go an angry red colour and may even start oozing puss.’
‘Lovely,’ replied Cilla.
‘Other signs that an infection may have turned septic are fever and an increased heart rate.’
‘Well that shouldn’t be too hard to spot, should it? If we keep a close eye on her,’ said Tam. He gave her an encouraging wink and a little of the tension eased from her shoulders. How could she ever have doubted him?
‘And what’s the worst case scenario?’ JJ interceded. ‘Cilla needs to weigh up all the odds, so she may as well know what the ultimate risk could be.’
‘In rare cases this can lead to septic shock and if it’s not treated right away you may die.’ Helen sounded so practical she could’ve been talking about the results of a spelling test rather than the ultimate hazard. Death.
Tam let out a low whistle. ‘That’s a pretty big risk, Cilla.’
‘Well it’s one I’m willing to take,’ she snapped. Damn right she was willing to take it. She was strong and healthy and she’d make sure she kept the wound clean and dry. She wouldn’t let one little scratch beat her. Not when her grandmother’s house and her beautiful boat were on the line.
‘The choice is yours, for now, Cilla.’ JJ stared at her with those dark brown eyes, evaluating her determination to see this out. ‘But we can veto your decision at any time if the medic thinks it’s necessary, so please promise me if you do start to feel sick, you’ll let us know. I really don’t want any of our contestants dying out here.’
Relief surged through her like a breaking wave. JJ was going to let her stay.
‘Don’t worry, JJ, I’m going to watch her like a hawk,’ Tam growled. His gaze locked with hers and she was trapped by the resolve in his tortoiseshell eyes, daring her to argue. ‘The whole team will watch her like a hawk. Any signs of fever or any kind of malaise and you’ll be the first to know.’
~
Cilla was glowering at him. Why was it that every woman possessed a certain look calculated to cut a man down, let him know just how much he’d offended her in one single glance? Let her glower. She needed to know the full risks of staying in the game with her injury and if he had to play the bad cop to make her see the implications, then so be it.
Apart from that, she was also damn cute when she was angry. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes were sparking like flinty emeralds. It was a relief to see her face take on a healthy glow again, definitely a step up from the pale, drawn Cilla he’d woken up to this morning. That vulnerable Cilla had scared him, this angry version he could cope with.
‘You can watch me like a hawk from over there, Tam Connor.’ She left off the implied I don’t
need your help, but it was more than plain in the defiant tilt of her chin. He lifted an eyebrow in a smirk, but the gesture only made her scowl even harder. Fine, he’d sit over here in the shade of a coconut tree and feign indifference if it helped her win back a little of her self-respect.
Helen, the female medic, was coming back from the boat, carrying a large black case. He watched as she knelt down next to Cilla on the sand and spread out clean white sheets for her to lie on. Then she got out a rather large looking syringe and began to fill it from a small bottle.
Cilla’s gaze started to flicker between him and Helen, the sight of the syringe seeming to distract her from her attempt to send him to the fires of hell with her stare. Then Helen got out some more medical implements, tweezers, a large curved needle, a scalpel blade and some blue thread, laying them out neatly on a steel tray. The sparks of anger glinting in Cilla’s eyes went out, replaced by doubt. Cilla stopped glaring at him altogether when latex gloves came out. It was as if he became invisible in the blink of an eye. She become fixated on what Helen was doing, scrutinising every move she made with the wariness of prey watching a hunter.
Cilla’s eyes got rounder and rounder as she watched Helen’s preparations and she pulled her knees up to hug them into her chest, looking more like a worried child than the very angry, very indignant woman he’d been watching only seconds before. The transformation astounded him.
Was it just his imagination, or was Cilla’s joking statement that she didn’t like needles actually true? There seemed to be more than just simple apprehension in the way she clamped hold of her knees, her knuckles turning white with the pressure, as if willing herself not to stand up and run away.
Helen was unaware of the change in Cilla as she finished her arrangements. Ready to start, she leaned towards Cilla, syringe in hand.
‘This is a local anaesthetic, to numb the area before I start stitching,’ Helen said, all cool efficiency.
